Before we begin, important to note: my writing is fuzzy; hasn't been sharp in a while. But if you're up to it, let's quickly sum up our arrival.
The weekend before we jetted off was super busy, and I could not snap my pep and focus out of leftover lethargy. Excited and anxious and overwhelmed were all safely buried under some 'idontcare' mud. I zombie-packed as if hiking for four weeks, minus the sleeping bags and tent essentials, plus bug and sun repellant, plus more clothes, plus more food. We got a ride to CT (thanks again!), and stayed with Grandey and Papa, who drove us to JFK early the next day. Suddenly we were on the plane, and flying (feeling like by the seat of my pants). Landing in Liberia, we butchered espanol, got a taxi to our new home, and I accidentally told the taxi driver I loved him- when trying to ask his name.
Day almost-one: disappointed and embarrassed in my lack of preparation and study of Spanish. This will only get worse, since I am no longer a sponge brained child, but need to put forth 100% effort and confidence in speaking this language, to encourage the guys.
Day almost-one: we met one of many, many unkempt, uncollared dogs. She was rail thin and her eyes pled sweetness, through bloodshot infection. She looked like a Penny. We tried to let her be, and tried not fall in love, but she slowly followed our hesitant feet. Max ran ahead home and got her a large papaya and bowl of water. Penny guzzled the water and ate half of the fruit, and like Kaiser, disappeared into the woods. If this keeps up, we may return with a dog.
Day almost-one: we met our hosts and were told to relax and enjoy. I have learned that relaxing is not really possible for me, so I'm sure to respond with feelings of rationalized guilt and failure, until I chill out and fully adjust. Unfortunately, knowing this does not ease my transition.
Found the beach
Drive