Aiports, Energy, and Insights
Note to readers: If any of you are familiar with Courtney Dicmas’s emails from Brasil, you know she has a special flare for bringing the place to your emotions and tactile senses. And Keon West’s random drama from France bringing such real feelings to the reader, you will understand where I am trying to draw my inspiration as I begin writing these blogs. We’ll see how successful I am, and who knows, maybe I’ll create my own style by the time I am done.

Stop, 2 • 3, Breathe, 2 • 3, Think your way to sense. Airports are crazy places with all sorts of people from random places going random places. Each with a story, a life journey, pain and sorrows, and countless joys. The air is stale, with a constant message booming through telling people to find their parties. I sure wish I could get invited to one of these parties some day. Bleach blonde 57-year-olds walk around with tight jeans, a thong and an American flag poking out of their purse. Do they remember they’re traveling? It is continual “hurry up and wait” routine. It is full of accents, languages, tears, and “Love Actually” hugs. I have to say I am thankful that signs are still in English, cause those Italian signs did not get my anywhere I was supposed to be. However, I am still not in the correct location to wait my 8 hours until the non-stop flight to South Africa begins. But once I find a place, I am just going to sit and chill, letting my body go into a semi-hibernation mode for the time being.

Last night was the bomb-diggityest goodbye party with a plethora of people coming over to wish me off. WOW is my word of choice to describe my resultant feelings. I thought the beach party earlier this summer was amazing, but WHOA, this was tha real ting dis. Sushi and spring rolls, banana bread with chocolate chips and without, and jello with freshly-picked strawberries among other things found their way into the mouths of the people. Laughter, loudness, and lavishness characterized the evening. However, there was really no time to talk to people, for as Nyalleng said, “You have to talk to everyone, so you don’t really get to talk to anyone.” And even now, it really doesn’t feel like I’m really leaving for half a year. It’s gonna be good. I feel it in my fingers; I feel it in my toes.

Anyway, I’ll let the airport energy consume me for awhile and give your poor reading eyes a break. Until next time…. Brich-i-neeeee

P.S. Those of you who wrote messages in the little book Demoya was militarily instructing you to sign, you had me laughing and crying on the plane…no joke…out LOUD in true Brittany style. The words, the poems, the memories were so awesome and make me feel less lonely here in my little airport seat. Much love y’all, and keep it real!