I must pause here for effect.
The Atlantic Ocean wind off of The Gambia is like the Balm of Gilead. It is steady, cool and refreshing every minute of the day. Our hosts tell us it never stops, and probably averages 20 miles an hour all day, but from about 5pm until morning, it averages 30 miles an hour. Coming from the colossal heat, humidity, and relative stillness of Liberian air, the breeze exhilarates and heals.
I ain’t kiddin’. These zephyrs do not simply waft over the body, they massage the soul. They carry our anxieties and tension away with them as they pass.
So, now I’m thinking only those privileged to work in a climate like Liberia get to experience the breeze like we do. Which in a weird and ironic way makes me appreciate Liberia more. There is a metaphor in there somewhere, but I’m grokking the moment too much to pursue it.
Anyway, we arrived very late Friday and have relished each hour of our three days here so far. We’ve got a few pictures, but Blogger once again is only allowing this map. Check back later.
The Gambia-- a country within a country. We are just a little south of Bakau, west of the capital Banjul.
2 comments:
grokking?!
Lorraine,
For more on "grokking," I refer you to "Stranger in a Strange Land" by Robert Heinlein.
Bob
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