FUNDRAISING UPDATE: I currently need $3,105 in order to be fully funded! We only have 5 months left on the race and if I need to have raised the remaining funds soon — or I may not be allowed to finish the race. If 31 people donate $100, we can knock out the remaining need and I can stay on the field!
{January 2nd, 2017} – we arrived in Seronga, Botswana in the back of a safari truck, shortly after crossing the delta via ferry. Tents were set up along the grounds and a quiet spot in the hammock, overlooking the delta, provided an excellent view of a hippo that had made this particular watering hole his home. Life here includes showering under the stars, side stepping lizards, birds that sound like crying babies, no guaranteed power, water that tastes like blood, and a grocery store that’s only 2.5 hours + a ferry ride away. But for the next 4 weeks, this is my new “normal”.
{January 6th} – Found out what “fat cakes” are. If Estelle keeps feeding us like this, we’re all going to gain 10 pounds. Still haven’t decided if I like them better savory or sweet. Better get both then. Praise the Lord she makes these every Friday.
{January 9th-10th} It’s nearly 2am and I’m lying on my 2″ sleeping pad, curled up beneath my stolen airline blanket (Thanks Emirates!), listening to the rain pelting the roof of my tent. I’m jolted awake every 2-3 minutes with an overwhelming need to sit up and cough my lungs out. At least that’s what it felt like. with pain in my chest, throat & head, sleep is long forgotten as I focus on trying not to wake up the 3 girls tenting nearby.
A few hours later and the heat sends me crawling out of my tent, desperately trying to put my chacos on without falling over, while rushing to escape the pouring rain. By now the whole camp’s awake & several are gathered around our tiny picnic table eating their daily portion of oatmeal while discussing their plans for evangelism that morning.
I force a few bites of oatmeal down, steal a glance at the rust colored water and decide it’s not worth taking a sip of; potential (more like guaranteed) dehydration has greater appeal. After donning the appropriate ministry attire, I gradually make my way towards the table for prayer. Before I can take a seat people are inquiring about my health. I assure everyone that I’m fine, despite that fact that I’m convulsing with each cough and can hardly get 2 words out without coughing for a solid 5 minutes. Teammates & Squad Leader demand that I stay home and rest, I’m later told how pale, weak, miserable, and all around ghastly I appeared in that moment.
The following day I’m squished into the backseat of a truck, bouncing along as we try to navigate the river of a road, complete with hidden pot holes and cattle who stopped for a drink. With every water hole we drive through, we’re checking our legs to make sure no water seeps in from under the doors. Occasionally we have to stop and Willie (our host) wades through the water looking for shallower bits — the water’s so deep in places it covers his knees. But we eventually crossed the border and made it to the hospital in Namibia. After experiencing African healthcare in both Zambia & Namibia, I can officially say I have a new found respect & gratitude for the American healthcare system. Doctors told me I had Tonsillitis & Bronchitis which they claim were the result in the change in climate (hello African rainy season). And so the saying “Molly’s allergic to Africa” was born.
Health Update: The meds quickly cleared up the tonsillitis but my bout of Bronchitis has messed up my lungs a bit. I’ve regained most of my energy and strength, but high humidity & rainy weather makes breathing a little harder. Prayers would be appreciated as the remainder of my route guarantees one/both of those things.
{January 18th} When the rain finally ceases and the skies begin to clear, the stars above illuminate the darkness around them. Scattered around the camp you’ll find racers huddled together in silence, eyes lifted towards the heavens, basking in the immense beauty of the shimmering lights trailing across the sky. Tents open up, as we lay beneath, losing ourselves in the vastness of the skies.
{January 23rd} Last day of children’s ministry. Herd of goats crashed Arista’s lesson on the Israelites leaving Egypt, by stomping through the brush behind her. New jump rope record of 113 – the boy was so proud of himself, and actually helped some of the other boys realize that playing soccer wasn’t the only option. Dennis is still rocking his fish shorts, I’m almost positive that’s all he owns. Thankfully, no one got pooped on today, although there was a little girl with baby spit up all down the back of her shirt and all of the other kids acted like it was normal.
Gaone shows up with her kids!! I’ve definitely seen her son before, and I’m almost positive he’s the one I was talking with the other day. Gaone wanted to know if we’d come see her in the morning, and proceeded to take 15 pictures of us with her kids. I’m going to miss them.
{January 24th} Sat in the hammock for a good 3 hours today, swinging back and forth while chatting with Liz. Mr. Hippo made a quick appearance, but mostly it’s just the horses + donkeys these days. They’re probably the only thing I won’t miss when we leave tomorrow. From the picture I saw of Namibia, it’s way nothing like this bit of Africa. Way more desert over there. Although I heard a rumor we’ll be on the coast, I know ZaCrea have been fighting for us to stay there. Bless them. I will miss Botswana, but I think I’m ready to re-enter society.
