The Excitement of Arrival

As the lights of Cairo appeared below us from the plane ten hours after leaving New York, I felt that I ought to be feeling something momentous, overwhelming. Each step that had led us to that very moment – leaving Wrangell, leaving Wyoming, leaving New York – had felt so grand like we were doing something that was a big deal, but as we were landing in Cairo I couldn’t conjure up any of that. The moment felt, in fact, normal and right. Scott and I were about to start our African experience not with any fanfare but simply, as two people among hundreds landing in their destination.

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We touched down in Cairo around seven this evening – seven hours later than scheduled. We lost a whole day, which is a big deal since we started with only five, but there is nothing that can be done about it. We just have to be appreciative that we are finally here – in Africa, alive and well.

Scott and I are traveling with two big backpacks each – one very large bag and one medium sized bag. This means that we stick out as obvious tourists, which I have mixed feelings about. But when we were standing outside the airport, among the new sights and sounds, waiting for our arranged taxi and my posture was all screwed up from carrying a large bag, all I felt was glee. Carrying a heavy, awkward-shaped bag on my back means that I am traveling, that I am somewhere brand new, that I am exploring again. I could never fully express how much I loved living in Wrangell and feel fortunate for having had the experiences that I did the past four years, but I’ve never stopped longing to travel, and now I’m back at it.