A 48 hour snapshot of why my life is different here than at home.
- You sleep with an axe next to your head.
- You have a campfire in a gas station parking lot and everyone is cool with that.
- You get told you will be raped, robbed and killed if you go down a road and you decide to go that way anyways.
- You almost puke up breakfast because it smells like you walked through a port a poty for the past 5 minutes.
- You have a serious team conversation about nuerotoxic, cytotoxic, and hemotoxic spiders, snakes, and scorpions; how to treat profuse bleeding, gunshot wounds, stabbings, splints, and head traumas to stay refreshed on the basics.
- You think you get lost because the road signs change, and roads end, but Marty finds you anyways bearing gifts of apples and diet coke.
- you spend an entire day in a random truck stop waiting for cash to clear from the US so we could fill a gas tank that has broken gauges but we think is nearing empty to take it the next day and find that we could have driven a lot further.
- you talk to lots of strangers because that’s what everyone does.
- you run across the highway barefoot, just because you can.
- you saw a sign depicting high accident zone for cars/pedestrian collisions on the road which you are currently walking.
- you had to do a double take this morning when you saw a dog run across the street because you were sure it was a baboon at first.
- then Marty picks you up and takes you off roading through a random area of wooded brush till he was confident the Land Rover was hidden from the road and called it “camp”. We preceded to collect firewood, make dinner, and watch the stars appear.
- April 9
- , 2012
