From the Mitten to Mozam: Moz25 to ground control

Alright, so enough with the deep-minded philosophical jargon about why I'm doing this and the personal reflections about what I experiencing. Because frankly I'm on this plane half way across the Atlantic to Johannesburg and there is little turning back unless I'm deathly ill or I can't stand Mozambique more than a whole herd of pregant women taking the pleasure to let me know that they are going to "pee." Plus I'm promising there will be more of that vast psychological mind magic later to come.

I just want all you beautiful people at home to conceptualizer some of the experiences I'm going through and some of the hilarity that I'm bound to witness. I will more than certainly be wishing some of you experienced it with me. But for now this is the closest it can get and will hopefully do.

Being that I've never flown on an cross oceanic flight before my imagination of what to expect was slighty on and far off as well. For starters, when I first started picturing this flight I couldn't help but conjure up scenes in my head of Samuel L. Jackson in Snakes on a Plane with that iconic line, "All these Motha F^€%ing Snakes on this MOTHA F^€%ING Plane!" Also the idea that we were going to Africa and I would problem encounter more deadly snakes in my trip than the sum of my time spent in the reptile room on field trips growing up, it seemed plausible. And then of course Liam Nessiam, after watching the Taken trilogy more times in the Cougar Hunter with the boys than I care to admit. The epic hostel hostage situation in Non-Stop came to mind as well. Though I'd vote trump to get a personal recording of him telling me, "Good luck." But I'll do without the plane bomb scenario.

What I have had to experience though in this air pilgrimage to Africa has been some what entertaining as well. At least for me. Being someone who enjoys flying, 15 hours in the air ain't nothin to F^€% wit. After being informed of the crippling possibility of acquiring swollen ankles from the lack of movement, struck the fear of having kankles he size of bread loaves in me. So I've been on the strict regiment of walking around, standing up, or using the head every couple hours. Safe to say so far my calves have not begun to sag into my achilles. Second on my air time journey has been the somewhat young and hipster European newly wed couple that is seated right in front of me. The guy rocking a beard like he's Dan Balzarian and looks like his lankier dopple ganger and the petite little blonde arm piece he has with him. These two have been exchanging sweet nothings like their in the back of math class, probably my math class, and their PDA (public display of affection) rivals that of the underclass first "love" we would witness at St. Joe High in between passing periods. And they just went to bathroom, $5 this flight has been christened , what UPP. Feel bad for Rob, my roommate from staging, who has been enduring their endless love for the duration of this. But third of all that has appeased me on this flight is the on par food and beverage service we've been getting. Salmon with mashed potatoes and a lager for lunch, game on. Along with the great accents of the stewardesses. Which I'm sure to hear more of in Moz, has been quite fantastic. All in all, I'm like a kid who road his first roller coaster, hooked. And the best part of this international flying is that when we do touchdown, I'm gonna be even more (aye aye) blown away and taken back by the place where we make port. Can't wait! And if you can't tell; I'm soaking in all the luxuries into my sanity bank for myself during those expected low points during service.

Hungry Peace Corps volunteer XXL TV dinner