Journal date: 3-7-2013

   Our friend George, the logistics coordinator working with my son’s team, needed a ride to the airstrip. My son, daughter-in-law, grandson, co-teacher friend and George piled into the vehicle and off we went. 
   Motivated by hunger, we stopped along the way at a run down restaurant. Actually, every thing built here looks run down. But I think it has to do more with the type of available materials when the building is built than things wearing out over time. With no building codes to be bothered with, one just puts a building together with whatever materials they have.
   Tasty potatoes slightly seasoned, alongside tender beef, and chipoteh (goodness, at the moment I can’t remember what that was. But not the deliciousness of the main dish) was the general fare. Meat and potatoes are always sure to please, even back in the States!
At the restaurant

At the restaurant!

   As we drove to the airstrip (can’t really call it anything else, no buildings you see) we saw a group of people parading in celebration of “The International Day of the Woman.” Made up of mostly Jia’s (people group, identified by the platted bangs and patterned markings on their foreheads. We were told they were of a fierce nature. But all decked out in their pleated plaid skirts and chanting in unison a very African sounding euphony, they didn’t look fierce to me at all! But intimidating? oh yeah! 
A young lady from Jia people group.

A young lady from Jia people group.

    Our final adventure of the day was in arriving at the airstrip. We all tumbled out of the truck and, as always, immediately drew a crowd. I never did get use to that! If I lived in this land long enough, I am sure I would. But given my bent to shy away from being the center of attention, it probably would take quite a long while for me to adjust.
   Airports in these bush areas can only be described as an airstrip. No security checks, no baggage checks, no tarmacs, no hustle and bustle of people’s goings and comings, no air traffic control towers guiding the multiple planes in their landings and take-offs. You just drive up close to the airstrip (made of firmly packed dirt) and wait until you see the plane drop out of the sky. The pilot knows you are there and thank God for that. (Of course, before you set out, someone calls the aviation company you are flying with to book your flight. That’s about as close to modern day flying as you can get!)
   Eventually, the plane arrived and my son helped George get his luggage on board. We said good-by and watched as the plane took off (only a few feet from us) and disappeared into the sky. You really get up close and personal with the flight experience here.
  We closed out this day of adventure and headed home. Can’t really compare traveling back home to traveling here in this part of Africa. But each has it’s appeal!
Airport? Yep, dirt runway and 1 plane!

Airport? Yep, dirt runway and 1 plane!

Waiting on the plane!

Waiting on the plane!

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