Morning Travels

Quick update: Santa is alive; the dog not the fictional giftgiver (sorry kids your parents are lying to you). Everything is still good.

Journal Feb 3 2009

A family of ducks numbering in the high 20's decends gentally with a unison splash on the gently rippling surface. The breeze carries the complex scent of sugarcane, rotting fish and brush fires. Birds, both large and small, hover over the water taking turns diving through the air in swoops returning from the water in a figure 8 with a small fish tightly grasped between talons. This scerenity can only be matched by the calmness that I have felt watching the swans in Brugge or else the ducks in Vondle Park. I leave the dock where an old and rusty boat is tethered by an equaly old and rusted metal rope to begin the 7km journey back to my village. First I must circumnavigate the lake via a path 2m wide and 15m above the waters green and blue surface. Evaporation and constant irrigation has left the water level considerably lower than when I first arrived 3 months prior to now. The Chinese (whom constructed the lake), created numerous canals to feed the vast lands of the sugarcane fields. As I traverse the path I am witness to a herd of cattle led by a man with a larger straw hat slowly striding toward the water for hydration. I continue watching the the herd as I progress on the path. On the other side of the lake a young man is swimming with a large net collecting small fish for later consumption and sale. Past the man is a women laboring over her family's laundry as her children floric at the waters edge. In the trees behind the women and kids and other herd is being led to the same source. I carry on down the path until it intersects with the larger but still rugged, rocky and sandy unpaved route that vans, motos and bicycles travel on between Game (a medium sized village) and the Route Nationale. Another man on a bike waves and greets me in Akposso when our voyages converge. 1km past this interaction yet another herd of monsterous cows line both sides of the path. They slowly munch on the vegetation and breath heavily a musty stench. Here I am able to get a closer inspection of the beasts of remarkable size. Each is at least 2m at the shoulder. I can see the flex of their muscles as they lumber toward the final destination. The horns on the giants are the size of my arm and I judge much stronger. I slowly continue in fear that the slightest agitiation will cause panic and stampeed the herd. Carefully passing through the crowd I continue down the beach-like road. I often disembark from my bike becuase the deep sand prevent my tires from spinning. Soon I reach my house and drink some water and eat a few packages of bisquits. I catch my breath resting underneath a large tree. The breeze lightly strikes the sweat that was soaked my shirt feeling nice and refreshing after the long bike ride. After I am sufficiently rested I take a shower. Now it is lunchtime.