Africa - Day One

We were leaving on the 7 p.m. flight to Paris, France then transferring to Bamako, Mali from there. Greg Madeley, the trip coordinator and founder of Hands Across the Nations (HATN), requested everyone meet at Pearson International Airport for 3:30 p.m the afternoon of January 12. From there we would travel as a group, sporting our HATN T-shirts with our oversized branded HATN luggage in tow. It had been a long time since I felt part of something special. And there was no denying how good it felt.

Trying to tie up loose ends at work was as possible as parting a mid-sized sea; deliverables and tensions were mounting and more than once I second-guessed my need to be part of the mission to Mali. I say "need" and mean it. There was nothing rational in the decision to go to Africa. I had by-passed logic and awarded my heart full reign for the latter half of January. Too often my intellect had run interference on instincts that had felt right but appeared outwardly irresponsible. Being the eldest child, a single mom and sole breadwinner, I was more than ready to kick responsibility to the curb and follow another vital organ for a change - well... for two weeks anyway. Mali felt right and I was going with it, dragging Gillian along with me.

There were plenty of Everest-sized speed bumps to jolt logic back into the frame: spending $1,200 on international vaccinations was one of them. Greg had warned me that vaccination coverage was expensive but apparently it was a message hard to hear through rose-coloured glasses. Gillian and I endured the countless needles and aching arms, focusing squarely on the purpose ahead and less on the fabulous winter wardrobes that could have been.

Sandra was the first to greet us at the airport. She welcomed us with a smile as warm as a latte, checked off all the appropriate columns on her spreadsheet and made sure we had all the proper documents for customs. The HATN bags were huge, much bigger than Gillian and I had ever packed before - a hockey bag big enough for two goalies, with a 22 kg weight limit. At first we thought we could never possibly fill them, but the list of supplies provided by HATN helped fill the volume.

There were several puzzling items on the mission list: duct tape, head lights, a can of tuna, toilet paper and trail mix. While seemingly unrelated, these items would prove invaluable in the days ahead. Antihistamines, bug spray and my asthma inhalers were also vital, my rescue inhaler most of all. I hadn't considered how the change in climate and air quality would affect my asthma but it did in unforgiving ways. More than once I felt I was in the fight of my life just trying to breathe.

Paul, a veteran traveller with HATN, stepped forward to welcome us. He was clearly ready for the trip, his Tilley hat perfectly positioned over his head kerchief - surefire indicators of the heat and sweat to come I thought. Paul's eyes were brown Smarties: friendly, expressive and yes, smart. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, familiar with the travel routine and the routine of meeting volun-newbies, like Gillian and me. It wasn't until he walked away that we noticed his gait appeared compromised, an injury or stroke I thought. His reassuring presence quickly overshadowed any physical limitation he had and I secretly commended him for taking on the challenge of travelling to Mali. It wasn't going to be easy for the healthiest of us, let alone Paul. I knew then I would need to learn more about this remarkable man.

Gillian and I were lucky to sit next to each other on the Air France flight to Paris. Fifteen days of Gillian's company without a cell phone, Twitter or Facebook to come between us would be an amazing, relationship-defining period for us. Or our Waterloo. Technology has its upside when it comes to required relational space. I chose to ignore the obvious and nestled into my crossword as she programmed The Hangover 2 on her movie screen. Whatever was going to happen, our seatbelts were secured, and we were done taxiing the runway. We were committed to each other and to Mali, Africa.