Flying, flying, flying some more...

So we're on the Northwest flight to Amsterdam. Its after 10 pm and I'm so exhausted but Linda doesn't stop talking for a second. I keep thinking she would get along fabulously with my mother. This thought will continue to be confirmed for the next 10 days. My only question is who would stop talking to listen to the other. A short way into the trip we get into Canadian airspace and the Captain comes on and asks for Jennifer Hamilton to push her call button. I do and he comes back, super nice guy, and I say "Have you been talking to my dad?" Yes, of course he has. See, my dad is an air-traffic controller in Newfoundland, and of course I gave him my flight info so that he'd know when they were taking care of my plane. Dad doesn't so much get why I'm going on this trip to begin with and all the old "daddy" issues always come flooding back, the childish desire to have him approve of everything I do. In the same way I feel stupidly safer because he is helping guide my plane across the humongous Atlantic Ocean. Because, you know, Dad's can do anything even when you're 36 and don't have a super great relationship with them, they still can do anything. Just knowing he's down there somewhere, keeping an eye on me makes me feel less anxious. They start showing "Kung Fu Panda" as the movie, which I really want to see except I don't so much want to see it on a plane by myself to Amsterdam. I want to be cuddling with my kids on my couch. About halfway through the movie the sound goes out on my headphones and I'm so tired I'm barely keeping my eyes open anyway, so Panda will have to wait and I fall into an extremely uncomfortable sleep...

Coming in over Amsterdam---green, green, green and lots of wind turbines and canals. Water everywhere! We land and it takes like a whole other day to taxi to the gate...Finally we get off this stupid plane and go into Schipol, a fact which makes my husband extremely jealous. Never mind that I won't see a lick of Amsterdam, just the fact that I am there at all brings back fond memories of his time there. He's always wanted to take me there and show me around. Anyway, we make our way through the enormous crowds to where our gate is. It looks like any other airport except its much bigger than most airports I've been to. Plus I'm in a sleepy fog and kind of have a headache. We meet up with the rest of the members of our team...First impressions: Courtney, Candace and Nancy already seem like best buds with little room for anyone else...of course, Courtney and Candace actually ARE best friends, Nancy just fits in with them. Nancy will be my roommate for the trip--she's not what I imagined, she's cute and young (I guess not much younger than me actually) and Latina, and I was picturing...I have no idea, honestly. Linda the leader is very motherly, Phil is older and quiet, like having your grandfather with you which is comforting. Rob...decked out in as much Texas Longhorns gear as possible, shiny bald head, muscular build...quiet, stoic seeming...definitely seems like the Marine he used to be...it will be a while before he breaks out of his shell and acts all crazy and fun, but he definitely has a brooding side that will continue to manifest itself...I'm not sure about him at first but he eventually becomes one of my favorite people from the trip.

In an effort to stave off a migraine without actually taking my medicine, I go in search of a Coke...I also kind of want to get away from all the "team-y" camaraderie that's going on back at the gate. I'm still not totally invested in this trip even though I'm halfway across the world already and its pretty much too late to turn back...I find a little snack stand and thankfully don't have to figure out the whole Euro thing, my credit card does the work for me even though I feel stupid using a credit card for a coke. I know in the age of debit cards we use them all the time for everything but it still feels ridiculous to me to use a card for something that's like 2 dollars. Amsterdam apparently has one of the strictest security policies for an airport--unless I get my drink hermetically sealed in a special bag I'm not allowed to bring it on to the plane. I drink fast. Then its time to get on the plane...this is it, the last leg (sort of, there's actually an overnight at a hotel, another flight and a long bus ride too, but this leg will actually bring me to AFRICA, holy crap) of this crazy trip I'm embarking on. I wish I could talk to Bill.

Trying to keep it real...

So I'm realizing that its been almost 6 months since I went to Uganda, and its starting to fade, its starting to feel like I never even went, like it was just some dream that happened to somebody else. So I've decided to try and recount everything I can think of about the trip, to just have it down and out there so that I can look back at it as it goes away even more...this is going to be kind of stream of consciousness, so here goes.

Its the morning I'm leaving, I'm leaving my family for 11 days to go to Kitgum, Uganda. I have fought with God about this trip for many months, hoping for any excuse not to go and yet wanting to go with all my heart. I wake up early, shower and get ready. I'm trying hard not to cry because I'm afraid if I start I won't be able to stop. I take off my engagement ring, intending to leave it home (we were told we should) but it seems to ominous and so I put it back on where it should be. I get everything set and get the kids up. I've bought them stuffed animals with the idea that they have something to hug when they are missing me. This is more for Julia than anyone I suppose. Finally its time to go, Amber's here, we need to get to the airport. Julia's sobbing hysterically, Kendall starts crying because Julia is, Bill is trying hard not to cry. He is just as nervous about this trip as I am, for so many reasons. 5 days with my mom, work, football starting, worrying about me and my safety...I feel like someone has punched me repeatedly in the stomach. My mom is trying to be inconspicuous but because she's my mom it just doesn't work. We drive away and all I can see is Julia wailing and I'm trying to keep it together...

The drive to the airport gets better. Sun comes up, we get past all the depressing emptiness between Laramie and Cheyenne. Being at the airport, there's people and busyness all around to distract me...it feels strange checking my bags to Entebbe, Uganda...I wonder if they will get there. I manage to eat a McDonald's southern chicken sandwich because I have to take my malaria pill and know from experience that no food is a bad idea. I sit waiting for Stacy and Ryan, the couple from Laramie, to arrive. They're late. I try to read a magazine, call Bill on the cell phone and ask what the heck am I doing, see how Julia did getting off to school. Finally Ryan and Stacy arrive. They are annoyingly not nervous at all. Of course they're not, they're on this adventure together, they're not leaving their most precious people behind to travel to Africa. We get on the plane at some point and head for Detroit. I don't remember much about this flight at all.

When we get to Detroit it is depressing and rainy. There is a cool indoor monorail thing that glides above us which is interesting to look at. I want to find the nearest ticket counter and head straight back to Denver. Stacy and Ryan and I eat at the Chilis near our gate. I have a half sandwich and a salad and Ryan kindly pays for me. Then we meet up with Audrey and Linda, 2 of our teammates. First thoughts--Linda doesn't stop talking and Audrey is a total dear. I'm not so much in the mood for socializing so I call Bill and cry and say I want to come home. If he tells me to get on a plane and do just that, I would but he's a good husband and encourages me and makes me feel better. I talk to Julia and I'm sure she cries because she cries every time I talk to her on this trip. I try to be brave and eventually we get on the plane for the overnight to Amsterdam.

More later...