Getting there.

It's 2:45 a.m. and my brain just won't give it a rest.  It's been on overdrive for the past week.  You'd think exhaustion would have seeped into the picture by now.  But it's the strangest thing... I'm sitting here, in front of my laptop, watching bad infomercials on TV (but not really watching them) in my parents' basement, and am almost afraid to go to sleep.  No, afraid isn't the right word.  I'm not really sure what the right word is right now.  I know "excited" is in there somewhere.  So is "What the hell do I really think I'm doing?" and "How did it all get here so fast?"    

Today is the day.  I fly out at 3:25 p.m., North American Central Time.  Eight hours later, I'll land in Amsterdam with overnight-on-an-airplane breath and only a vague idea of how to navigate an international flight transfer.  And by a "vague idea," I mean that I'm trying not to think about it anymore because I'm just going to freak myself out.  My plan right now is to hang onto my passport for dear life and hope somebody takes pity on the poor little lost American girl.  I figure I have eight hours over the Atlantic Ocean to befriend the neighbors sitting around me, with the hopes one of them is a veteran globetrotter and can hold my hand to the departure gate at Schiphol.  Bonus points for a cute, male, European hand-holder.  I know I'll figure it out, and it'll all probably end well (and with me in Kilimanjaro), but in the meantime, I'm a little worried.  I don't speak Dutch.  

Once I'm in-country, I honestly don't know when the next time will be when I'll have access to a computer, let alone the internets.  Since the next blog post date will have to be a mystery, here is some fun info to hold you over:

a) Tanzanian time is 9 hours ahead of Central time.  Bracing myself for some incredible jet lag.

b) I'm keeping a journal and plan to write in it every day, regardless of quality.  Its contents will be regurgitated faithfully onto this blog whenever I can grab a taxi into Moshi and find an open kiosk at an internet café during my free afternoons.  Promise.

c) Here is a fun video tour of my home base, in the village of Karanga.  Thanks, Volunteer Harold!  (http://community.crossculturalsolutions.org/video/homebase-karanga-village-1)

d) Despite the insecurities over airport navigation in a foreign country, I really am optimistic that by the end of the day on Saturday (noon-ish, Minnesota time) I will be walking around Karanga, breathing in the African air, and so completely overwhelmed with giddiness I can't see straight.    

Hakuna matata.