After a full 24 hours at home, it was time to pack up the car and head to Table Rock. Fortunately there had been good weather the last few days and the lower road was passable, although a bit muddy and rutted in a few spots. Driving in during the winter is so beautiful because you can see everything. I relish the early morning drive to TR with the sun rising. It's truly some uninterrupted quiet time and I really enjoy it.
I checked out the new Philips building and then started settling back into my office. It felt so strange to be back. For a few minutes I just had to stand and let the feeling of this place sink in. To get grounded here. To call it home again.
Remi, Caylin, and I made a plan to start getting things open and we all got to work. The basecamp was in pretty great shape considering the Winter that WNC had this year. A couple of broken pipes, lots of down branches, but otherwise functional and NO rats this year.
Things really get started on Saturday when the OLC instructors show up. Hard to believe there will be students in the field here this time next week. 2010 has officially begun at Table Rock.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Just A Plane Ride Home....Sort Of
What I thought was going to be just a plane ride home and a anticlimactic end to an incredible journey was far from it. The first couple of flights were great, good food, half-full plane, and smooth. When we got to Addis Ababa, we switched planes and I got onto the big old 737 that would take us to Rome and then on to DC. The first few hours of the flight were great. I was really tired so I was actually getting some quality sleep on the plane.
About half way across the mediterranean sea, I was awoken by the ethiopian man quietly praying in the seat next to me. He was sitting with his carry-on on his lap and had already demonstrated some nerves about his flying experience. So far no big deal. Within seconds his praying was much louder, "praise be to Jesus." Then he stood up, with his arms raised above him and was praying at full volume. This got the attention of everyone on the plane and two of the flight attendants came over to get him to sit down. No such luck. He started pumping his fists in the air and screaming, "Jesus is my savior. I am going to be with my MOTHER, and my FATHER, and my BROTHER, and my SISTER, in heaven. Praise be to Jesus......on and on" Now I was fully scared, I looked at his carry-on sitting next to my legs and couldn't help but wonder what was in it. I was surprisingly calm and had pretty much figured I was going to be deep in the Med. Sea, but there was nothing I could do about it.
That's not it. The man then pushes past a flight attendant and sprints to the back of plane. Oh shit. Whats going on? The flight attendants chase after him and tackle him to the floor. They stay with him and sit him down in the galley area. After about 20 minutes, they let him come back to sit with me. I am understandably a bit shaken. The flight attendant just says, "he was praying, he is sorry." The man wraps his head in a blanket hunches over and doesn't move til we get to Rome. We sit in Rome for about an hour and then finally someone comes on and escorts him off the plane just before we took off. My BP went way down, and my eyelids got heavy again. I hope to never experience anything like it on a plane again and will remember the scene vividly forever. It was crazy. Crazy.
I arrived in DC safely, had some breakfast and drove straight back to NC. The adrenaline of being home really kept me going. When I sat down after dinner I passed out in seconds. Glad to be safely home.
About half way across the mediterranean sea, I was awoken by the ethiopian man quietly praying in the seat next to me. He was sitting with his carry-on on his lap and had already demonstrated some nerves about his flying experience. So far no big deal. Within seconds his praying was much louder, "praise be to Jesus." Then he stood up, with his arms raised above him and was praying at full volume. This got the attention of everyone on the plane and two of the flight attendants came over to get him to sit down. No such luck. He started pumping his fists in the air and screaming, "Jesus is my savior. I am going to be with my MOTHER, and my FATHER, and my BROTHER, and my SISTER, in heaven. Praise be to Jesus......on and on" Now I was fully scared, I looked at his carry-on sitting next to my legs and couldn't help but wonder what was in it. I was surprisingly calm and had pretty much figured I was going to be deep in the Med. Sea, but there was nothing I could do about it.
That's not it. The man then pushes past a flight attendant and sprints to the back of plane. Oh shit. Whats going on? The flight attendants chase after him and tackle him to the floor. They stay with him and sit him down in the galley area. After about 20 minutes, they let him come back to sit with me. I am understandably a bit shaken. The flight attendant just says, "he was praying, he is sorry." The man wraps his head in a blanket hunches over and doesn't move til we get to Rome. We sit in Rome for about an hour and then finally someone comes on and escorts him off the plane just before we took off. My BP went way down, and my eyelids got heavy again. I hope to never experience anything like it on a plane again and will remember the scene vividly forever. It was crazy. Crazy.
I arrived in DC safely, had some breakfast and drove straight back to NC. The adrenaline of being home really kept me going. When I sat down after dinner I passed out in seconds. Glad to be safely home.
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