It's been almost a week...

...and my body's holding me hostage.


I suppose it's because I battled my way through six airports on minimal sleep. On one of the long flights, I sat beside a... slightly large woman whose arm pressed against me no matter how I tried to shrink away.


I don't like to be touched. I really don't like to be touched by a stranger. I really, really don't like to be touched by a stranger for seven hours running whilst on a two-day tour of half the airports in the world.


I realize the woman didn't have a choice in this either, but it was hard to be magnanimous when I felt like her conjoined twin.


At one point during the long, cold night, I threw my upper body diagonally across the aisle until a stewardess crept up behind me and told me to behave myself.


I think it was as I remora'd my cheek to the woman's arm again that my body began to rebel. Sometime during pinballing through Africa and Europe, my left eye decided to turn a virulent shade of red. I had no idea until I was about an hour away from my final destination (although it did explain all the screaming children in my flights).  


What's more, since arriving in Canada, my face has decided its calling is to be a 'Before' picture for Proactiv. It is even now working diligently to achieve this goal.


Finally, although the weather is unseasonably warm for January in the prairies, my extremities have utterly given up even pretending to be useful members of society. The temperature is a balmy -5°C, and yet I shuffle around the house in three layers, socks, and slippers because my body is convinced I should just curl up and die of hypothermia. Especially since my fingers and toes no longer respond to stimulation and my brain likely thinks they've fallen off. 


However, this last post is not entirely about my various complaints (for a change). It is also meant to answer some questions that keep cropping up:

• I did explain what happened to my fiance. Recently. I forget exactly where it was, and I refuse to go looking into that embarrassing chapter of my life. Suffice to say that he maturely understood (thanks to Steve) that I had no intention of showing him Canada on a world map, much less becoming his wife. 
• No, I didn't say Malawi, Bali, or Maui. I said Mali. It is a No Man's Land in West Africa. It is landlocked and surrounded (clockwise) by Algeria, Niger, Burkina Faso, Cote d'Ivoire, Guinea, Senegal, and Mauritania. You know when people say, "I'll knock you straight to Timbuktu," or "She could be in Timbuktu for all I know!" Timbuktu is in Mali. 
• No, there aren't many animals in Mali. Except for goats, sheep, cows, and chickens. (I won't mention the rats.) The scenery is pretty, just not in the way that I am used to in, say, Banff or Kerala.  Imagine... the savanna, like you'd see on the Discovery channel - only without the lions. Without any signs of life whatsoever, really, because most of the people are in the capital city (where the party's at), and all the wild animals have escaped to countries with conditions more conducive to life. 
• The name of this blog has caused much wailing and gnashing of teeth because no one has any idea what I'm on. (Don't worry, I get that a lot.) It comes from Sarah, Plain and Tall. But it's Sharon (being my name), Plains (being the landscape of Mali), and Sol (being the hot sun in Mali). I thought it was highly self-explanatory and clever because I am also plain and (sort of) tall. Aha. Ha. Ha. (I know; I need to get out more.)  

Now back home, I am amazed by how fast and easy the Western world is. Though I'm totally sure I remember Youtube being horrifically slow to load before I left for Africa, now I barely have to blink before an entire video loads. 


Also, Superstore is close. 


(Wait, there's more.) 


It has cheese. 


(It gets better.)


The cheese is cheap. 


In addition, I no longer have to dread the day that the gas canister thing for the stove finishes. For me, changing that canister was akin to building a rocket to take me to Saturn and back. It involved a wrench.

(Stop me if this is getting too technical.)

Each time we (yes, I needed someone to hold my hand each time) changed that beastly thing, there was something wrong with its replacement. Either it leaked, or it hissed, or it looked at us funny... One way to test whether it was working or not involved giving it a warm, soapy bath. Apparently it would blow bubbles if... I dunno... the moon was aligned with Venus or something. 


It never blew bubbles. 


But somehow Muso Koroba, Lori, and SA were all Gas-Canister Whisperers and knew, after tenderly bathing the thing, that it was gonna blow. 


Another way to test it was seeing if it went up in flames. 


(If it did, that was a bad sign.) 


Note: Whilst using this method to test the safety of a metal canister of compressed gas, it is helpful to have a quick thinker by your side. Preferably a quick thinker who enjoys life. In case you're wondering, I lose on both counts. 


But aside from all this... I'm settling right back into the groove of life in North America.


Now I'm trying to explain how it feels to share a bowl of water to wash up before and after a meal. How it feels to share a bowl of food with a women whom I cannot name, but who dance with joy in the presence of the Lord because of His saving grace. How I can miss Mali despite its many shortcomings. How I was readily welcomed into a community though I looked, acted, and thought differently. How people are turning to the Lord by the mere presence and witness of those who are called by His name to a strange country, never mind the missionaries and local Christians who are actively working to 'preach the gospel to all creation.'


I thank God that He has kept my going out and my coming in, and I pray that I will have a chance to work (and play!) again in Mali. Thank you to everyone who has taken part in this mission.


Signing off for the last time (I hope), 
Kermit

...Surely God is my salvation; 
I will trust and not be afraid. 
The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense; 
he has become my salvation.” 

With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.

In that day you will say: 
“Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; 
make known among the nations what he has done, 
and proclaim that his name is exalted. 

Sing to the Lord, for he has done glorious things; 
let this be known to all the world...
- Isaiah 12: 2-5