This morning I was supposed to fly to Port Hartcourt at 9AM, which meant to get up at 6:30 AM, getting my pick up at 7AM. All went according to plan, but about 40 minutes into our journey to the airport we get a phone call. My colleague answers, sighs and hangs up. ‘They changed the time of the flight. I forgot to check this morning. We’re now flying at 2.30 PM.’ The only thing to do was go back to the hotel, where I took breakfast and got my room back to rest.

This has been about the ‘biggest’ adventure I’ve had so far. And yes I am in Nigeria. Of course there’s lots happening in this country that could lead to much bigger adventures, but when you simply work, either finding yourself in an office, conference room , the hotel room or the conveniently close Chinese restaurant for dinner, I can assure you, not much will happen. This said, the hard work paid off. My monitoring and evaluation training got ‘raving’ reviews from participants and Nigerian colleagues, and this week I’ll give the same training again, tweaking it that little bit more to make it hopefully even better, and I am thoroughly enjoying it. In particular because of the good collaboration with my colleagues who are very easy going and fun to work with

Maybe ‘bigger’ adventures will follow, but for now I’ll leave you with a poem I wrote on Sunday after my flight over the Sahara desert. It was a fascinating display out of my little window and I think I stared at it for about 2 hours.

30.000 Feet above

Trespassing, sneaking over borders

that never existed

put down to organise the vast unknown

following lines only Nomads ever crossed for real

mounting the sea of sand

 

Red, dust, filling up lungs

taking away breath

stopping pitch black glistening eyes

staring towards even blacker mountain ranges

lined by one single cloud

 

lost, out of place, offering shade

lulling the mind into the short comfort

of forgetting the incinerating heat

 

And here I am, 30.000 feet up

Only to imagine what it must really feel like