jenniferhawke.com

for my mom and anyone else vicariously stalking me on a minute-by-minute basis.

er, not that my mom does that.

Wednesday, May 30th
8:35pm – depart Vancouver

Thursday, May 31st
1:40pm – arrive London Heathrow (after 9 hours in the air)
7:05pm – depart London Heathrow

Friday, June 1st
6:50am – arrive Johannesburg (after 10 hours in the air)
11:05am – depart Johannesburg
12:40pm – arrive Livingstone, Zambia

i used SeatGuru.com to ensure i got the best possible seat available in economy. plenty of leg-room (thanks, bulkhead!) on both long legs of the trip.

there were also a few small additions to my initial packing list:
- herbal sleep aid (valerian root)
- after sun lotion (just in case)
- SPF60 sunblock stick (small enough to keep in a pocket for emergency or excessive sweating)
- harness front-loading camera bag
- scrabble-to-go (gift from a lovely friend)
- a pile of audiobooks (including “The Langoliers”, Deepak Chopra, and Pullman’s trilogy)
- noise-cancelling headset (this was a tough/expensive decision, but once i learned that ALL economy seats on British Airways are either on or behind the wings, it was a no-brainer. plus, all the flying i’ll be doing in the next couple of years should make them more than worth the price.)

i will try to keep in touch and post photos (or at least updates) during the next month. your emails of well wishes are all immensely appreciated. you guys are the bestest! huge bear hugs! keep me in your thoughts with whatever god you prefer. xoxo!

wow – phone blogging is sooo geeky. I love it! am positive Mr. Young is throwing up a little bit in his mouth right now.

we paid our respects to the strong Canadian dollar on the weekend with a quick trip to the Apple Store in Seattle. Jonathan bought me a present for Zambia: 160GB of portable hard drive luv for LOTS of raw photos. : ))

i promised myself i wouldn’t gush about Africa until i’m there (or at least on the plane). i guess my lack of posting indicates it’s pretty much the only thing on my mind… !

EDIT: sorry for the multiple postings. testing is complete. next phone post should get rid of that black border and default to a special “Between Here and There” category.

it’s no secret that i’m a morning person, but even *i* haven’t been up before 5am in a very long time. as my eyes unglued this morning, i remember thinking: “holy crap, it’s early.”

followed by: “holy crap, it’s light out.”

according to my desktop widget, dawn this morning was at 4:37am and sunrise at 5:17am. i love summer.

i had to drop Maddy off at the airport cargo hanger before 7am, so we were up at the crack of dawn (quite literally) to run off a little energy at the park first. her WestJet flight leaves Vancouver at 9am and arrives in Regina just after 1pm. she should be running around with Chiclett on my mom’s new acreage by 3pm at the latest.

yup. i miss her already.

aren’t they the bestest??

often when you’re looking forward to a Big Event that is months and months away, it ends up creeping up on you. turn your back for two seconds and — surprise! here it is! i’m a fan of countdowns* and for me the most jarring threshold is the “This Time Next Week” threshold. for example…

this time next week, i’m going to be married.

this time next week, i’m going to be thirty years old.

this time next week, that baby in my belly is finally going to be out.

this time next week, i’m going to be eating/doing/seeing/playing/thinking things that are so different from what i’m eating/doing/seeing/playing/thinking this week that i can’t even put thoughts to them right now.

for some reason, after waiting for months and months those final seven sleeps don’t really count. they slip by in what can only be described (in a completely cliché-ridden way) as a “frenzy” or “flurry” or “whirlwind” when you finally have the time to reflect in hindsight. those are the moments i pull out this little laptop to tap away a few letters, trying to capture a whiff of something in my brain before it evaporates with the next adventure.

today i got to take my dog to the park and wander the streets of my favourite city snapping photos of a neighbourhood i have seen a million times in a million different ways. tonight i get to have dinner with my beloved boyfriend and sleep in a familiar bed.

this time next week, i’m going to be taking my first anti-malarial pill.

this time next week, i’m going to be on a plane to Zambia.

————
*103 days till school starts again!

so i’m hearing (reading, actually) a few bad things about the dorms at MUA. according to school policy, single first semester students are required to stay in the campus dorms. i can understand the good intentions of social integration and assistance for those living in a new country, but a few red flags are popping up for me.

1) you can request a single dorm, but are not guaranteed to get one.
this means that depending on demand and enrollment, you may be expected to share a tiny room with a complete stranger that (based on a dorm questionnaire) hopefully has approximately the same sleeping behaviour as you. i realize this happens all the time in first-year university residences in Canada and USA, but it’s one of the huge reasons i have never lived in a campus residence.

i go to bed early, i get up early. just about every other minute of the day is spent either studying or eating. i am a solitary person who will take breaks to be social — not the other way around.

2) bathroom cleanliness leaves something to be desired.
as i read the forum post about the state of the bathrooms, i remembered the line in the MUA handbook that recommended bringing bathroom cleaning supplies. the OCD in me is freaking out.

3) lots of people in small quarters = lots of socializing.
as mentioned above, i have always avoided living in campus residences. that doesn’t mean i didn’t enjoy attending parties in res. but i definitely liked being able to go home and leave it all behind at whatever hour my little heart desired. i am not spending thousands of dollars to go to med school on a Caribbean island so that i can host different/better parties. i’m probably going to end up seeming like a total snob, but most of my 18 months on Nevis are going to be spent with my nose in books, not beer mugs.

4) not exactly worth the money.
other than the socializing, students often choose campus residences because they can save money on rent and transportation. a single dorm at MUA is $500/month, not including internet or laundry. my preliminary real estate searches have found fully furnished pet-friendly 2 bedroom houses close to campus with fenced yards and air conditioning, for less than twice as much.

5) how can you come visit me in a dorm room?
one of the benefits of going away to school has got to be the potential for friends and family to come visit. you come up with the airfare and i’ll provide the couch/spare bedroom!

to be fair…

i have heard that quite a few students are a little older/more mature, so the situation may not be as bad as my imaginary OCD nightmare. i can also appreciate the importance of creating and establishing solid social networks while in school and beyond. i think relating to someone that is going through the exact same thing you are can be a very valuable resource. i’m not a snob! really! i’ll go for a beer with you after that brutal exam! but i also need the opportunity to study in my own space during my own schedule with my own silence. i think it’s overly optimistic to hope for a building full of students with the exact same intentions.

i am still researching pet-friendly accommodation and may end up paying more to live off campus during my first semester even if i don’t bring Maddy…

listening to: KCRW
not-quite enjoying: silty (new filter *sigh*) coffee
watching: people walk to work
thinking: writing is one of the best ways i know to slow down time

wow. what a whirlwind weekend. i can’t believe it’s monday tuesday(!) again already. once again, i had too many things to do and not enough hours to do them in. dropping Jonathan’s mom off at the airport yesterday afternoon felt strange. it was like we had just picked her up.

this morning, the apartment is all mine again. i think i’ll wander around in various states of undress while eating/drinking things directly out of boxes/cartons, after which i will unapologetically read and nap the afternoon away. it’s also time to resume the role of domestic goddess — at least for another couple of days. Maddy leaves early on Friday and after that, i’m not sure what i’ll do with myself…

birds in the eaves of the apartment across the street are going crazy this morning. a few grey clouds here and there are attempting a stand, but mostly the blue is winning out. thank goodness.

right this minute, my mom is picking up the largest U-Haul she can find. within 24 hours (10 or so of which will involve a house full of hired men packing the truck) she will be hauling herself across 2 provinces to re-settle back in Saskatchewan.

PMS this month has brought with it the strangest cravings: right now i could really go for chips and jalapeño ranch dip for breakfast and i have been thinking about McNuggets with sweet ‘n sour sauce for three days. my eating habits have remained fairly stable, but you can see the hormones written all over my face.

a week tomorrow, i will be on a plane across the Atlantic. i have been wearing earplugs to bed in preparation for the night flight because i’m not the best plane sleeper. and bonus! earplugs help with our local traffic noise as the nights get warmer and we leave our windows open wider.

other than the earplugs, i haven’t been thinking about Africa much. i don’t think it’s fully set in… does it ever?

lastly, i’m noticing a huge difference in my neck from looking down at the laptop monitor instead of straight at my old PC monitor. i have been consciously keeping my posture better, but figure i’m stuck with the neck kink for at least a few more years.

initiative to spend less time on the computer, right?

my opinion of pitbull owners is torn… part of me thinks they are stupid for choosing a breed with such aggressive reputations if they are unable to “handle” them. the rest of me feels bad because there is a lot of prejudice against them. pitbulls and their related (or similar-looking) breeds really can’t do anything right and don’t get much slack at local dog parks.

yesterday, Maddy and i met a lovely pitbull/bullmastiff cross. the owner was quite chatty (as some are) and seemed to need to vent to a sympathetic ear. he spent several minutes relating a couple of previous encounters between his dog and smaller dogs. small dog owners can be over-protective and, while i understand it is occasionally within reason, often they end up encouraging the small dog’s fear. this is the easiest shortcut to promoting passive-aggression or straight-up aggressive behaviour.

but his stories surprised me. after all, the dog’s meet-n-greet with Maddy was completely uneventful and he was now peacefully lolling in the grass with his bright orange ball. he ignored all of the other dogs at the park and listened attentively to commands. at 18 months, it seemed like his owner had done a good job of training the aggressive tendencies out of him.

a few minutes later, a few more dogs arrived with their respective leash-holders. one was a small, bouncy Kleenex-box dog. no one (pitbull/bullmastiff cross included) had paid the yappy thing much attention. but as soon as it was off-leash, it started barking and ran straight for the pitbull cross.

still, the pitbull cross did nothing. i turned away as the woman ran after her yappy Kleenex box and shushed it. when i turned back, the small white dog was back on its’ leash and the pitbull cross owner had his dog in a down-stay. the entire encounter had lasted less than a few seconds. as soon as the small white dog was back on its’ leash, the situation was completely calm.

“your dog just tore my pants,” the woman said as she checked her dog over, presumably for additional tears.

“he did?” the pitbull cross owner answered with a note of resignation in his voice.

i didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as Maddy and i moved away, but later found out that the woman had actually been scratched/bitten in the rear during the dog separation scuffle. blood was drawn. and a tailor would need to be called.

the pitbull owner treated Ms. Kleenex box with total respect and deference, but i found myself hoping he didn’t offer to pay for the repair of her pants. part of me was upset that the woman was arrogant enough to erase/forget her dog’s role in the scuffle. the pitbull cross and his owner left soon after and i found myself wondering…

who’s responsibility is a situation like that? the small white dog obviously initiated the “situation” — everyone was friendly before it arrived. but if you know your dog has a chance of responding to aggression with aggression, why doesn’t it have a muzzle on? why do you run it with other loose dogs at all?

a glimpse of life after Africa from James in Sudan:

he was speaking the other night that after you do one mission, and you go back home, you are ruined. there is a distance between you and others that is irreconcilable, things that you cannot share. when you try, the people you talk to either cannot place themselves there, or they realize they don’t want to know after all. the larger the rift becomes. you arrive home, exhausted, longing for familiar comforts you thought you missed, but after a short time, no matter how hard the previous mission was, you feel the pull. if at least to be around people who have known a similar world.

i’ve had a few emails and comments from friends asking if i’m excited about and looking forward to Zambia. a lot of friends don’t even ask at all because it’s sort of taken for granted that going to Africa for a month will be such a freaking amazing experience, how could someone NOT be so excited they could jump out of their pants?

and yet, it’s sort of bittersweet. Jonathan’s job has been crazy since i came back to town a month ago and only promises to slow down next month, after i’ve left. i also think i’m going into this a bit blissfully naive. James’ quote above speaks of MSF stints longer than a month, but i don’t doubt the power of 30 days to change me inside-out.

if i was to be really honest, i’d admit i’m nervous.

i haven’t seriously second-guessed my “call to medicine” in the last four years. and i have never doubted my desire to (eventually) work overseas in third-world countries. this is going to be so very different than volunteering at St. Paul’s in downtown Vancouver…

firm slaps in the face with reality always make me a little nervous.

but it’s why i love to travel so much. every trip, every tribulation, every challenge, every failure, every triumph, every leg of every flight is another experience egging me on to the person i am meant to become.

i’m so excited i could jump out of my pants.