Camp Life

Camp life is basic. You’ve seen the shower and my tent. I’ve just added a picture of the loo to that post so you can have a better visual of where I do my business. Note that it is called a “long drop”. Literally it is a long hole dug into the ground with mud built up around a plastic toilet, might I add a very uncomfortable throne. There are only very small mirrors, if you can find one, therefore 99% of the time I have no idea what I look like. I often use the side mirrors of the truck to put a bobby pin in my hair. I have no access to exercise in great extents. Some push ups, sit ups and a game of badminton. It is obviously unsafe to simply go for a run. I sit all day in the truck and all evening. My physical body is changing and it is all somehow wonderfully liberating. I used to obsess about when and how I would fit my workout in on any given day. It was an added stress in my life. Because of the lack of mirrors and such, you don’t care what you look like. You can’t care. My feet are always dirty. They always will be. Manicured nails are a thing of the past as are designer suits and high heels. There is no room for one of the seven deadly, vanity. The result of all this seems to be this overlying feeling of developing my self awareness, feeling more and accepting more that this is a multi-faceted exercise of all parts of my being, no matter what there will always be new layers of me to uncover and new things to learn about myself. Becoming more spiritually and self aware begins with the process of learning to accept exactly who I am, with all of my warts, wonders, blemishes, un-plucked eyebrows and dirty feet. Being out here in the raw is and will force me to look at my physical self, mental self and spiritual self and integrate them into my total being without vain.


Since I’ve been here the rest of the world really does seem to fade into the distance. I don’t access news, I can I suppose, but I choose not to. I figure if its big enough news I will hear through email from family and friends. What I have tried to be conscious of is, not to forget to grief the loss of my father. Deep down inside me there is a lot of pain, and I fear that by removing myself from so much of my life as it was I may be suppressing what needs to come out. My emotions are raw. The truth is the pain cannot be outrun, I can’t run around it, over it or under it. I must run through it. I need to keep working through it.

There is so much in Africa that reminds me of my father. When I look into the male lions eyes, I swear I see him. He was a leo. And he was as burley as the lions and sometimes as grumpy as one.

When I look out into the open fields, it reminds me of a picture I have of him standing in his own similar field.

I speak about him out loud and in that I am reminded that he is no longer with me, and I fight back tears. I am quickly learning that it is something you get through, not over. At this point I must mention my remarkable company. I’ve managed to be surrounded with empathy. Both Graham and Andy have lost their father and both similar in age to myself. Which brings me back to my earlier points to that message that I sent out to the universe, the universal law of attraction.

I don’t think it’s any coincidence that the company I’ve found myself surrounded by is awesome.

Franette is simply lovely and in 23 years young very much reminds me of my cousin Katie. It’s like there is a piece of home here with me.

For whatever reason, Brad seems to like to crack jokes about south park and the mounties, I’ve challenged him to come up with something else canadian to tease me about. I fear this may be all he knows about Canada.