Today is the Day

I'm outta here! The total travel time is only 26 hours... yikes. For the first month it'll be hospitals and clinics, then for the second month I'm going to see how much of South Africa I can cover. I'll try to post here frequently. Take care! If you get a chance drop me a line as well, I know I will miss friends and family back home.

Heading On Downstream

Well... the Gauley River has seen its last day of busting through the Summersville Dam, so I am headed home for about a week to relax, see friends/family, and play with my dog. The kidney stones mysteriously turned into "nothing". The doctor said I was fit as a fiddle and that the ER doctor lied. And graciously, the mysterious pains went away. I'm okay with that.

Just this morning I received my housing assignment for South Africa. I'll be staying with a couple who are both gradeschool teachers who have two sons, ages 12 and 15, one of who's name is BoomBoom. There are 4 others that will be doing the same program as I am through November, which is an intensly focused, academic course consisting of daily lectures and observations seeking to help us begin to understand the complex culture and health care system of this facinating country. More on this soon... Chipotle is calling.

Aches, Groans, and Kidney Stones

Well, after a week of pretty intense pain I headed to the hospital where they informed me that I have kidney stones. Great. So I asked them what to expect, what I should do, and how I should or shouldn't alter my lifestyle. Their response: It depends.

Thanks.

Then it seemed like a good idea to get the first-hand account from others who have experienced the joys of passing small solid objects through their urethra. Their response was encouraging: "It's a bit worse than childbirth."

Thanks.

So for the next week I'm laying low, which is frustrating because the meds they gave me for the pain make me feel slightly less motivated than a slug. I'm going to the doc on Monday. Maybe they'll have answers.

Seneca Rocks

I have spent the past three days climbing a fantastic pile of rocks. It is like God was bored one day and decided to stack rocks, one boulder on top of another. I'll post pictures as soon as I have access to do so, but for the meantime, think of a giant fingernail sticking out of the ground, 900 feet tall, 100 feet thick, large enough to take you a day to walk around the base.

After hiking, it takes four to five 100 meter pitches to reach the top, each one scarier than the last as we edge our way above the tree line, above soaring birds, above every hill in sight. On our first day we climbed easy routes to the summit, each of us repeating to ourselves, "it's not hard, it's just scary." Once acclimated to toeing along a ledge, attached by harness, rope, and rusty peton, we began to climb more challenging pitches. The next two days were unbelievable. I have never climbed so hard, or felt so satisfied to top out a tough route.

On top of the world, I could feel myself breathe and laugh with such ease. It was the feeling of being so overcome with delight that you can't help but giggle with joy. Pushing past my perceived physical limit, each climb was a new ecstasy, shared by incredible friends who know what it means to love deeply and wonder at the good in each other.

After setting up the final rappel, I was left alone on a cliff, waiting my turn to descend. Birds flew by, and I could hear the wind catch under each beat of their wings, a pulsing rhythm, that mingled with a low whistling of air over hollow spaces in the rock, and the shrill of eager crickets at twilight. Moments like these are so overwhelming for me, because I feel so small, yet so complete. Like everything makes sense all of the sudden, and I'm so overcome by the clarity and joy of insignificance that I can barely stand up straight, and all I want is to hang on to the simplicity and beauty of this moment.

The chatter of my friends called me down and within minutes I was on the ground with them, hiking back to the van. As we drove back to Ace-land, the full moon rose orange, lighting the road home. I can't wait to show you the pictures.

My Home

Here's a look at my summer home in the hills. Thanks Immanuel.

Catching Up

Sometimes I wish it wasn't so easy to stay in touch with people. Mostly because as I continue to find out how easy it really is, I realize how much I suck at it. Maybe it would be easier if I didn't live in a tent. Or at least more convenient. No guarantees that I'd be any better at it though.

Living in Wild Wonderful West Virginia has been an adventure for sure. Earlier this summer I guided a boat full of Amish folks from Illinois. They were in full garb - bonnets, big muslin dresses, button up shirts, work boots, etc. Basically each wore an ensemble that could sink a small yacht. Somehow we survived.

Other noteworthy incidents that I have lived to tell about include frequent visits from black bears (heeere bearcub bearcub bearcub...), jumping into a pond to pull a drunk friend out of an unsettled SUV, getting my knee STUCK in a crack while rock climbing, and one extremely intense lightening storm. As if the river is not exciting enough.