The Journey

{I wrote little blurbs at the airports in Washington, Newark, and Brussels, but nothing really gets interesting until we actually get to Douala.  I left July 11, but this post picks up on July 14 when we finally made it to our final destination, Fundong, Cameroon.  See pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2240305&id=55700796&l=842401c6ab, or click here http://harvestchildrenshomes.org/abouthch_compound.html for a virtual tour.}

7/14/2009
Let's recap, and a little more detail to the equation.
--Brussels security check-- Christina's peanut butter was confiscated under the new liquid rules.  Drink that PB, girl!  Kelsey had her bag sent through like three times to figure out what the thing that looked like a metal spoon was.  My bags were stopped too, until we all figured out that our would-be spoonish weapon was actually a reflex hammer.
--Flight to Douala-- mostly uneventful, although we were not the only white people on the plan, contrary to rumor/expectation.
--Douala airport-- "the gauntlet" of the trip.  Tons and tons and tons of people tried to help us with our bags and with customs, and we tried to refuse.  I would say they won, because they definitely elbowed their way onto our carts, but I'm pretty sure we didn't pay them (or customs) anything, so maybe we won after all.  (This is pretty much entirely thanks to Emmanuel Ngala.)
--Douala guest house (Baptist Mission House)--excellent digs.  Run by a very trusting European (German?  Austrian?) lady who looks a lot like my Granny.  Kelsey, Christina, and I had a huge room with AC.  There was a pool, and even wireless!  We all called home.
--Dinner-- I almost got barracuda, and then I almost got ananas (pineapple) chicken, and then I ended up getting plain (but yummy chicken).  My exotic food fetish was not to be.
We were super pooped when we went to bed at 10 or 11, but little did we know what the night had in store for us. . .
At about 3 AM, Kelsey, Christina, and I woke up to a banging on our (locked) front (only) door.  We waited, the banging happened again, then Kelsey was about to go down from the loft where we were sleeping to see what they wanted when Christina stopped her for safety reasons.  The banging started again, going on for what seemed like forever.  The invader attempted to open the door, and then finally went away.  We all sat straight up in bed for about 20 minutes as Christina tried to get Eric on the walkie-talkie to figure out what had happened/calm us down/stay safe.  Eventually she got him, and he informed us that it was Philip who had mistakenly set his clock 10 hours forward instead of the 5 we actually needed. . . Good times.
So that was day 1 on the ground.  We got up the next morning to a delicious breakfast of french bread, coffee, pineapple, and an omlette provided by the mission.  After breakfast the ladies headed to Western Union to pick up money (and attempt unsuccessfully to change it) while the guys packed their bags.  Eventually we piled everything on top of the van and headed on the looong journey to Fundong.

Observations:  The roads here are either pretty decent or non-existent.  Our van traveled both.  Everywhere is a lot cleaner than the other developing countries I've been to.  It's gorgeous here. . . hills that spring up out of nowhere and keep going, surrounded by a mist that makes it all pretty mysterious.

{. . . I talked about a few events and the road trip to Fundong, but now I think I'll skip ahead to when we actually get to the orphanage}

After our driver, Henry, navigated an amazing mud puddle, we arrived at Harvest Children's Home to mobs of screaming (happy) kids.  Three girls (Vigiline, Mariana, and Shansline) latched onto me immediately.  I was reminded of what Michelle said in response to my fears about loving and leaving-- the ones who need you will come to you.  It was overwhelming, in a mostly sweet but a little sad way. 

More on our evolving plan soon!  Bon soir! <3RH