There are two things that I really
value: a good story and a memorable moment.
My good friend Ricky and I always say ‘life is an accumulation of
stories.’ And along with that we are
both always in search of the next best one.
As you read that you might wonder ‘so is that what he is really doing in
Africa?’ I would be lying to you if I
said No because I am always searching for the next great adventure. I also know if you ask Ricky the question
‘why did you join the Navy?’ he would answer it the same way – for the next
best adventure. We are both in search of
life experiences, maybe by different means but both in the attempt of a better
life for others.
The memorable moments are of a more
personal nature and can only truly be valued by me (but I will try to help you
understand my value in them). They are
snap shots in a bigger story that I can look back on. The moment is so clear in my mind I can
remember the smells, the scenery and what I felt. If I was a good enough artist, I could paint
a picture. I have a card catalog of
moments and when I need them, I can pull them up in my mind. One of my favorites is at the Sea of Galley
in Israel. Another is on a cloudy night
in Puerto Rico on the beach. A third and
fourth are in the swimming pool. All
most every competitive swimmer has that one race that they can remember where
they almost felt like they were outside their body swimming their personal best.
I am lucky enough to have two and I used to draw from them to swim my best in
every race. There are plenty more but I
don’t want to give away all my secrets.
This next story is both a memorable
moment and an adventure tied into one.
It is rainy season here in The
Gambia and thus far it is proving to be a wet one – raining almost every day. About a week ago the rain was the hardest I
had seen it yet. It created a stream
down the middle of my village. I see my
9 year old brother burst out of the door in his underwear and run out to the
center of the village. He and a couple
of his friends are playing and dancing in the rain. My first thought is ‘I know how bad the
sanitation is in my village’ and ‘that water must be really gross.’ But the storyteller in me was like ‘you can’t
miss this!’ I rip off my shirt and throw
on my board shorts and I stormed out
into the rain from under the dry cover of my house. I yell to one of the kids “am nga football?”
(Do you have a soccer ball). As soon the
football was kicked out into the rain 10 more kids run out from there
compounds. We played shirts and skins
for a good 15 minutes but in an African thunder storm that means boys wearing
underwear and boys who are naked. At one point the ball is stolen away from me;
I just stand there in the pouring rain, put my head back, feel the rain on my
body and revel in the moment (think of Shawsank Redemption when the main
character escapes from prison)
And that is how great story and
memorable moment is made. I hope this
story helps you remember one of your own.
Happy thought travels
And
Jamaa Rek
