Baby Steps

  My departure from my time in Africa came in small, baby steps.  Rather than suddenly leaving my life in Africa during the middle of a field service and immediately being transplanted back into Canadian society, I've been slowly weened off of my Mercy Ships experience.  Sniff, sniff.
  Mid May, the dental clinic saw our last patients.  Then began the pack-up process.  Thanks to our team leader's previous experience, we packed everything up quickly and smoothly, cleaned the clinic, handed over the keys, and transported all of our dental equipment to our container.
  Then came our goodbyes to our extended dental 'family,' our lovely local day-workers.  They were an integral part of our team and we would not be able to do the work that we do without them!  This was a sad time for all.
  I took up a new job in the galley slicing vegetables.  This new job was fun, but totally different to what I was used to.  And new co-workers.
  The ship became ocean-proofed, as we packed away and tied down all our cargo.  We slide-proofed the storage shelves in the galley with bungy cords.  Landrovers suddenly appeared parked and tied down to the top deck.
  Friends continued to leave.  About a week before MV Africa Mercy's departure was a mass-exodus to the airport, complete with a convoy of 12(?) landrovers carrying about 60 departing crew.
  Finally came the day that we pushed off from our moorings and chugged out of the port.  Sent off with much love by a crowd of our  port-worker friends.  Our neighbourhood tugboats and pilot boat bid us "adieu."
  Off at sea!  What a treat.  But where is Conakry?  I miss the shore.  Different view from the windows, different job, and not the same neighbourhood.
  Then came the terrifying day that we landed in Las Palmas, Gran Canaria!  Far off shore, as we approached land, the extensive modern infrastructure became visible.  High-rises everywhere in multi-colour combinations.  Rolling hills reaching up out of sight and into the cloud-cover.  What is this place?  I have been used to downtown Conakry, which is flat.  Many of the buildings there are one or two stories tall.  Some 4 story government buildings line the main streets, with a very occasional apartment building transplanted into the low-lying neighbourhood.  But this colourful, shiny new city seemed like something cartoon-like out of a Katy Perry movie.  (Does that even make sense?)
  As our boat reached it's 'parking spot' in the ship-yard, nearly all the crew could be seen eagerly anticipating their first steps on land.  The gangway lowered, crew meeting, and we were free to go.  We let loose a bunch of crazy sailors on Las Palmas.  I was not so eager to venture out.  Firstly, I was still on shift.  Tomatoes, cucumbers and a knife will be my entertainment, not the shopping malls and beach.  When 7pm came around, I used my freedom of choice to stay in my comfortable communal surroundings, rather than venture into the great unknown.
  Another exodus of crew followed the next day.  The ship was abuzz with tales of kiddies at McDonalds, the liberal Spanish clothing style and shopping.  The land was still not calling my name, but I decided to be brave and trek past the monsterous looming ship-trains, and out of the port.  I wanted to get a good dose of culture shock and decided that the mall would be a grand place to start.  Floor after floor of shops, all lined neatly with sparkly, treasures.  I hadn't been in a western 'mall' for 6 months and this proved a lot for my senses to take in.
  The comfort of the ship awaited as shocked and overwhelmed Alice returned.  Different city, different friends, different job, but still the same home.  I would cling on to the familiar for dear life.
  Now that my date of departure stood a few weeks away, I may as well become familiar with my departure portal.  Through a series of adventures, I glimpsed the airport from the highway, drove in a Landrover to drop off departing crew, and then finally, the day before I was to leave, I joined some friends in picking up another Mercy Ship guest at the arrivals gate.  Whew!  Too close for comfort!  But as i said, I took baby steps.
  June 20th came.  Backpack expertly stuffed, I bid "See you later," to my fellow crew friends.  I exited the gangway for the last time, and I didn't get to swipe out with my badge!  Oh no!  Now I am really leaving my lovely white bubble of familiarity!  Into the Landrover I hop, and off we go!  Farewell Africa Mercy, stay safe till I return!