En route: A day in Paris
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Short trip update
It’s the eve before the start of the big trip– Baltimore to DC to Paris to Djibouti to Yemen and home but this time coming home via Amtrak from DC to Philly.
My cast came off yesterday but my fifth metacarpal on my right hand is still broken. For travel, the doctor put me in a wrist brace 24/7 with instructions not to use my hand.
Boo! I wasn’t expecting to go bowling but I thought I could have some function.
I am packed. I got a haircut today and played with tying my hijab one-handed.
I usually travel with my mother-in-law’s Nikon Coolpix S3000. It’s a thin camera with a rechargeable battery. The poor thing won’t turn on. She bought me the L26 hoping it would match hers but it doesn’t– it takes double A batteries which makes it too fat to fit in a pocket and the flash takes forever to charge. My girlfriend lent me her S5200 which is thicker than the S3000 but smaller than mine.
En route: Packing for Djibouti
I already called my banks. I emptied my wallet.
I selected my travel outfit: a white camisole with gauzy white tuxedo style shirt (long sleeved), fake leather cropped black jacket (washable), lightweight black pants, silk scarf and Velcro “Mary Jane” style sneakers.
I will begin in this outfit Thursday a.m. when my family drives to the suburbs of Baltimore to have breakfast with my college roommate. We need to be in DC by noon to head to Dulles for my afternoon flight to Paris.
My traveling companion and I arrive at CDG in Paris at about 6 a.m. Friday, which will be midnight our time. Our plane to Djibouti leaves in the middle of the night Paris time so it’s possible I will wear this outfit for more than 48 hours.
So what’s in the current draft of my suitcase?
Carry on
Change purse
Business cards
Wallet
Notebook
Pen
Feminine supplies
Two pairs underwear
Socks
Boxer shorts
Camisole
Passport
Vaccination record
Paris map
Ibuprofen
Sunblock
Chapstick
Baby powder
Soap
Hand sanitizer
Alcohol wipes
Meal bars
Chargers
Laptop
Disposable toothbrush
Deoderant
Long skirt
Suitcase
Shampoo
Liquid soap
More listerine
Barrettes
Toothbrush
More meal bars
More hand sanitizer
Boxer shorts
Underpants (many of which I will toss when dirty)
Socks
Sandals
Ankle length skirt
Khakis with lots of pockets
Three t-shirts
Bra
5 relatively lightweight long sleeve shirts
Plastic bags
Dryer sheets
Wipes
Cooling wipes
Ethiopian scarf
Messenger bag
Pens
Why I’m not excited
Everyone keeps asking me if I’m excited to leave for Paris. I’m in Paris for a day between flights en route to Djibouti. It makes me chuckle because I’m not really traveling to Paris, I’m traveling to Djibouti. But the average American is much more familiar with the idea of Paris and I suppose Paris is easier to understand.
Last week when my traveling companion and I received our visas, I felt a thrill.
And when I check the weather… It’s 90 degrees in Djibouti with an 18 mph wind and 62 percent humidity that creates a heat index of 100 degrees. That’s a tad scary.
But no. Now, I’m not excited.
Three weeks ago today I broke the fifth metacarpal of my right (dominant) hand. This has provided some challenges and some frustrations. Many of these challenges I believe I conquered but certainly the manual can opener still stands between me and that tuna fish sandwich.
So what makes me excited is the fact that tomorrow the doctor’s staff will remove my rockin’ red cast.
I did attempt to pack yesterday and I’d like to review my choices today, but the cast makes folding near impossible. I may just save that until tomorrow. I also broke the camera I planned to take with me so that lead to some scrambling. I will practice my hijab today. I have booked a haircut for Wednesday.
When I know the status of my broken hand, then my attention will shift to the trip.
Then I shall be excited.
Spiral shaft fracture of the fifth metacarpal
My upcoming trip to Djibouti may create an image of me as a brave, intrepid adventurer. In reality, I’m a former journalist who has used the changing media landscape to explore what I’d really like to do with my life. I have a really practical part-time job working for a great corporation with some of the most interesting and genuine people I have ever met. This has allowed me to return to school and earn a second bachelor’s degree, do a virtual internship with USAID, spend more time with my daughter and serve on boards in the community. And travel.
So, Monday should have been the day that I prepared my visa application materials for transit to D.C. but a funny thing happened at work. I broke my right hand and yes, I’m right hand dominant. Less than four weeks out from my exotic dream voyage and I broke my hand. Specifically, I sustained a [rather fortunate under the circumstances] spiral shaft fracture of my fifth metacarpal.
Sparing the exciting details of my first 24 hours with a broken bone, most of which were spent waiting for an ortho appointment, let’s say that my package got out today and I have a nice red cast. I have mentioned my upcoming out-of-country travel to my medical team. On April 15, they will remove my cast and place me in a removable splint of some kind based on the rate of healing. My traveling companion has expressed his relief.
When my hand heals more, I shall devote a blog entry to “life imitates art” and how my fiction tends to draw weird coincidences into my life. I think my imaginary friends and I share karma. When Basilie got pregnant, I got pregnant a few months later. She had a stroke a few months ago, and she lost the use of her right hand. From here on out, only goodness for Basilie. I’d share some of the stuff I’ve already written about Basilie, but I am very clumsy with my left hand only on the keyboard. It has taken forever to type this.
Remember all that time I dedicated to finding a journal for my trip? I used Facebook to poll my friends about the final three candidates and now… here’s hoping I can write in it when I travel.
Let me leave you will this… My daughter has been obsessed with broken bones since she saw the episode of the Waltons where Elizabeth fell off the wood pile and broke her legs. Needless to say, this process has fascinated her and the medical staff has allowed her to come with me for most of my treatment. I’ll share a photo she took while I got my cast.
En route: Hijab practice
When I traveled to Tunisia in 2012, I learned to tie a hijab. I used this skill twice during my travels, once very successfully and the second, well, a tad dismally.
I am renewing my hijab practice since I will certainly need to cover in Yemen.
I struggled to use the same scarf that I did in Tunisia, but it kept looping over my face. I used a more narrow scarf in a jersey-like fabric and that became much easier to maneuver.
I made some YouTube videos of my initial attempts. I like the red scarf, and have a purse that matches it. Continue reading “En route: Hijab practice”
En route: Djibouti prep with paperwork & underwear
The preparations for Djibouti continue. My husband and I use remanufactured ink cartridges in our home printer and we had a small mix-up with our latest order. This meant by the time we received the basic black cartridges we ordered, I spent two hours before work printing and sorting backlogged household paperwork. In addition to my state tax forms (filed federal online), my mother’s various taxes and her roommate’s taxes, I had to print my daughter’s Girl Scout camp paperwork and then my travel related documents.
I finally printed my visa application for the Republic of Djibouti, and using a brand new black pen I bought just for this occasion, I carefully printed my information in the blanks. You see, travel for me requires a hunt for good pens and new journals.
Every time I travel, it usually coincides with a fresh journal. I never really plan it that way, but it works out that the preparation and planning spur my desire to scribble down my mundane life. The journal that perhaps I’ve worked on for several months or even a year suddenly fills up.
I started a new journal a few days before I found out about this trip. Since it was an everyday journal, I used one a friend had given me. It has a nice folded in piece to mark your page, but the outside is an Eiffel Tower. It’s also lined, and I prefer my travel journals to be blank. This allows me the freedom to sketch (although I have no skill) or to use the page in creative ways.
For this trip, I wanted something small, as it the journal will serve only this trip, not my life-at-large when I return home. I found a little blank book with a ribbon and an accordion pocket in the back that measures about 3.5 x 5.5 inches and the layout is horizontal instead of vertical. This has me excited. The pens are PaperMate InkJoy. Ballpoint but with a smoothness, and crisp ink colors.
My printing endeavor included my train tricket. My flight leaves from DC and I live in Pennsylvania. My family will drive me to DC, and then they will have a lovely weekend in the Nation’s Capital before returning home for Easter dinner. My daughter has the key sites listed: the zoo, City Target, the Ethiopian restaurant (which has a certain irony since I will be very close to Ethiopia), and the bakery Paul. On the way home, I plan on hopping the Northeast Regional from Union Station and meeting the family in Philadelphia.
Then, early last week Amtrak announced a sale— $38 for travel between DC and New York City. The tickets had to be booked by March 20, and travel had to occur before May 1. Hooozah! Saved about $15 on my Amtrak ride.
My next priority involves obsessing over my suitcase. I will dedicate a blog entry to my suitcase when I finally embark upon that phase. I’m not bringing many clothes. It’s going to be hot. I’m going to be sweaty.
I bought two camisole/shaper garments to wear instead of my normal bras. They will offer consistent coverage and support without padding or underwire to irritate me. They also increase my modesty as my blouses are so light and flowy that these camisoles act as second shirts.
I decided I’m not bringing home my soiled underpants. I realized in the last few years that most of my underwear is aging, almost ten years old. I usually select my best underwear for traveling but this time I’m taking the ratty stuff and throwing it away when I’m done. Yup. How first world of me.
My girlfriend, who lived in Texas and has survived more than one hot summer, advised wearing shorts under my long skirt to prevent chafing. I hate shorts. Don’t own any. Any I certainly don’t want too many extra clothes under my skirt. But, I do like the concept. So, I checked out the men and boys underwear at Target. I figured I’d be a large or extra large boy, and they had a large selection of dark colored and cartoon figure boxer briefs. They seemed too heavy. I went with the traditional white men’s boxer. My husband and I wear the same size, so I can give them to him when I get home.
Or keep them, and run around the house this summer in my “Djibouti attire” of camisoles and boxers.
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En route: Preparations for Djibouti
The preparations for a voyage are perhaps as much of the “experience” of a trip as the actual travel. Passport photos, visa applications, daydreams of what itinerary you might want and packing a suitcase frame the essence of what the trip will be.
My traveling companion, M, whom I’m sure you’ll hear more about later, he reads the tourism guides, speaks the languages and books the hotels and modes of travel. I do silly things like fuss over shoes, shop for a new journal, and read books.
Thank goodness I got my new 2×2 photos when I did. The same day I visited the local CVS (poor new employee couldn’t load the batteries in the camera, use a memory card or figure out the photo machine— the store manager had to do it himself) I fell walking the kids home from school and took a chunk out of my chin that probably should have received stitches. The last of that scab fell off last night.
When M and I started planning this trip, he originally considered Mauritania. I took Nina Sovich’s new book, To the Moon and Timbuktu, from the college library (on my husband’s card). In the book, Sobich follows her father’s use of Timbuktu as a reference during her childhood and her own appreciation of Mary Kingsley’s Travels in West Africa to embark on her own journey in the region. She travels alone, in part to soothe her own marital restless and as homage to her Swedish mother who loved the African continent.
I read Kingsley myself 20 years ago in college. I still have the book and may reread it before embarking on my adventure, though we are no longer visiting Mauritania. Many of our destinations are decided by the availability of seats on airplanes and Djibouti proved logistically more feasible. This greatly excites me as I have wanted to see Djibouti for almost four years.
M thinks I’m crazy. It’s beautiful country, with a shortage of water, a small piece of land (the size of Massachusetts) carved out by the French colonial empire. As I type this, it’s 10 p.m. and 90 degrees. The French have abandoned Camp Lemonnier and the majority of their FFDj presence to the Americans, who are there to fight terrorism in the Middle East. Between piracy, terrorism and even cyber security, Djibouti’s strategic location on the horn of Africa has made it a garrison town for Western Europe, the United States and even the Japanese.
I can list many reasons why visiting Djibouti appeals to me. It received its independence from France in 1977, which means this country is younger than I am. It’s an artificial/crossroads kind of country. It didn’t develop organically but due to western involvement. It once served as the largest overseas French military operation. After the loss of the Algerian colony, while France still conscripted its young men into national service, thousands of French men spent a year here. The geography is supposed to be some of the most unique and breathtaking terrain (and most inhospitable but yet inhabited) in the world.
My husband thinks I’m crazy. Like Sovich’s spouse he doesn’t share my enthusiasm for the bizarre. My daughter has started her own travel memoirs and says some day she will visit Africa. I hope she does.
One month from today, I will board a plane for Paris and thus will begin my travels in East Africa.
Our region has suffered from an average of two snow storms a week and temperatures below freezing for extended periods of time. My daughter, her friend and I walk to school everyday and today I took my phone. I wanted to snap some casual photos.
While wearing two coats, a scarf, a hat, a hood and gloves, it’s hard to motivate oneself to unveil a hand and take photos.
But I did.
My daughter had positioned this chair under some frozen ivy so she could play with the icicles. Unbeknownst to her, the melting ivy created new icicles on her chair.
Icy Chair
Expressing Visions
I had an opportunity at the end of January to explore a position in the fine arts field, using my words to promote their art. That gave me the opportunity to spend some quality time with my scanner. I reconnected with several pieces from Lafayette College magazine.
I wrote this piece on senior art projects and even had a photo featured. (Bottom photo on the second page.)
Then there was this feature on Gregory Gillespie working with Lafayette College students.
Angel Ackerman 