I thought you guys would get a kick out of this. I wrote this a couple of days after getting settled in. Looking back, its a bit dramatic… but this was all new then. Since then, the journal entires have become much less frequent (unfortunately) and I find myself overlooking things that now seem normal to me.
This is no prison… its Africa.
I find myself on the dark continent for the second time this year. However, this time my intentions are to stay. It is no less than God himself that has me here. He showed me a need, and I responded. However, we will discuss that more deeply at a later time. For now, I want to write of my surroundings.
This is the place that modernity seems to have forgotten. My new home is a village nestled slightly upcountry from the coast in a West African nation. It is hot here, and the grass left long ago. Streets, yards, and for that matter, any flat piece of land in town is worn completely bare to the red African dirt. This village is possibly the ugliest and most beautiful place I have ever been.
Despite the lack of organic ground cover, the area is lush like I have never seen. Rich, tropical, and green, the plants grow everywhere there is not trodden ground. Seemingly, all of the plants bear some kind of fruit. Mangos, bananas, pineapples, lemons, limes, and a vast array of other edibles hang off the branches of these trees that clutter the landscape. The landscape itself is some of the most majestic scenery one could lay eyes on. Mountains, of some sort I have never seen, force their way up out of the terrain. They are not simply mountains though. Each peak has its own distinct, almost carved look. No two look anything alike. They march across the landscape, each as though it were a hand crafted totem designed by a master creator. That is precisely what they are.