Goodbye Senegal, for now. I love you.

I thought yesterday’s bus trip from Toubacouta to Dakar Airport would be five hours long, but doorstep to doorstep it was only 3:25.

We were dropping young Ansou off at his new hometown of Passy. His brother Ali and I have become close during two visits and I wondered if he’d be on the side of the road as we slowed into town. Actually, I knew he’d be there.

He was. I saw a boy in the distance. From my perch in the front passenger seat, I started waving, just as he too began the greeting. I hugged Ali twice in those few minutes. I wear his bracelet on my left wrist. He’s my friend.

This was one more goodbye in yesterday’s lingering departures. So many African friends, not stopped by language in the pursuit of love. I have families both here and there.

The road to Dakar was sprinkled with villages – fruit stands, parked semi-trailers, rows of motorcycles with young men astride. People flowed everywhere and the din of voices blasted through the open windows. There’s just such an incredible energy in this country.

Lydia, Marie-paule and I were flying overnight to Belgium. I was scared about my ability to stay well all the way to San Francisco. Lydia gave me half of a sleep-promoting tablet to see me on my way. It didn’t work. I got less than an hour of shuteye. I experimented with different sleeping positions. At home, I flop from side to side, but on the plane this left one foot edged onto the floor. That hurt after awhile and sleep didn’t come. I finally figured out that a symmetrical stance worked best, head straight back on a pillow and feet flat on the floor. But that didn’t produce the result either.

We landed about 5:30 am, and Jo was soon there to whisk the women home. I had more than five hours before getting on a plane to London. A flight attendant on the Dakar-Brussels flight told me about a lounge that had actual beds! Oh … give me sleep.

It turned out that this lounge was only for customers of Brussels Airlines, but I found another one … the Diamond Lounge. They had a little bed available, and a shower! I got wet, washed my hair, shaved and brushed my teeth thanks to the supplies provided. My toiletry kit was in my checked luggage. There was even a spread of food and drink. Yay. After, I set my alarm for two hours thirty hence and fell to the sheets … … Nothing. No sleep. (Sigh)

Here I sit in another departure lounge, this one in London Heathrow Airport. The direct flight to San Francisco will be twelve hours, not the fourteen I thought it was. Small mercies.

I’m now at the thirty hour point of little sleep. Another twelve hours on the plane plus maybe two hours to get to the Downtown Berkeley YMCA, and I’ll stand at forty-four. If I can’t sleep on this flight, I bet I’ll be delirious. No thanks. I have a full version of one of Lydia’s sleeping pills at the ready. Pray for me.