Volume Two: Kenya- Entry 1

As my plane left the Charlotte Douglas tarmac yesterday afternoon, I took one last glance over my shoulder of the Queen City sky line in the glistening sun. It was actually really beautiful with the Bank of America building standing tall, surrounded by the smaller buildings of downtown, and all of the sudden I was hit with a bittersweet feeling. I finally felt this new chapter in my life taking form, even with the dreaded 2 days of travel ahead of me.

Charlotte and I have this love/hate relationship really. I love it because it's my home and 18 years of my life were spent in that city. Looking out over the "Crown Town" I already was thinking about when I walk through my front door four months from now- taking that deep inhale letting the smell of an 80-year-old house with memories that have seeped into the floorboards and walls fill my nostrils. But so much of the city remains the same to me, a monotony, which is why I sometimes feel a strong "dislike" towards it. Perhaps it's because I relate it to my recent past, reminding me of the person I was before really seeing the world and opening my eyes to its truths and realities.

Currently I am reading several books, but one that I cannot seem to put down is Anderson Cooper's "Dispatches from the Edge". It is a memoir of some of his more prominent stories that he has worked on in his life. It is dark and raw with actual accounts of the tragedies he witnessed- the Tsunami from the Indian Ocean, the war in Iraq, the starvation in Niger, and the destruction of Hurricane Katrina here in our own backyards. But he is incredibly open about his feelings and thoughts that with every image Cooper describes you feel as if you are standing right beside him in that moment watching different parts of the world crumble and suffer. Some parts will make your stomach churn and others will make you want to cry- but it is well worth the read.

Cooper actually traveled to Africa when he was 17 years old by himself. He left high school a semester early before graduation since he had completed all of his requirements and just flew to Africa and traveled for months around the continent in a truck. Part of it he claims was dealing with his father's death, "Africa was a place to forget, and be forgotten in," while the rest was escaping the pressures of pre-college life.

I was lucky enough to hear Anderson Cooper speak in person in the gym of Elon University my freshman year. I went partly because I knew how big of a deal it was to hear him speak, but also for an assignment in one of my COM classes. I went not really knowing what he was going to talk about. The only footage I had actually watched of him reporting was from Sri Lanka after the tsunami hit and some of the Katrina footage. I ended up leaving the gym inspired and enamored by Cooper.

Since then I sometimes I feel this small connection to him, especially when reading his book. It is not one of personal nature, but rather someone you look up to, a hero of some sort. It's different moments or thoughts that he has that remind me of my own life. He starts off the book recounting a scene from his childhood. It's about a globe that Isak Dinesen, the author of "Out of Africa", gave to his mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, as a gift. Here is the excerpt:

"When I couldn't sleep, I'd touch the globe, trace the contours of continents in the dark. Some nights my small fingers would hike the ridges of Everest, or struggle to reach the summit of Kilimanjaro. Many times, I rounded the Horn of Africa, more than once my ship floundering on rocks off the Cape of Good Hope. The globe was covered with names of nations that no longer exist: Tanganyika, Siam, the Belgian Congo, Ceylon. I dreamed of traveling to them all."

It's funny because in my first journal entry last year before I departed for Ghana I had recounted almost the same experience, except that in my version I am twirling the globe with my siblings and wherever our fingers landed was the destination of our next "big adventure". As children it was all fun and games of course, but somehow I would always try and inch my finger over the the gigantic landmass of Africa, one day hoping that it actually would be my next big adventure.

So here I am less than 24 hours away from touching Kenyan soil for the first time and Africa for the third. Blessed with another incredible opportunity to see the world from a different corner. The next four months will be filled with memories to last a lifetime, and for those of you who got me here, thank you.

My last attempt at blogging went awry because I was in constant transit for one month. But the nice thing about a semester abroad is the time to reflect and truly write about your experiences, which is what I hope to share with all of you from here on out.

I will be out of touch for a couple of days since our orientation is outside of Nairobi, supposedly roughin' it without electricity or running water (I wouldn't have it any other way). Once I get settled you'll be hearing from me with updates!

So until then...