Thoughts on living abroad

It has now been just over two weeks since I left Boston and I am now entering that territory of missing things, craving random foods and realizing how much convenience is a part of my normal life. When Mike left for Boston and I was alone in LA, I had a plan of things I wanted to do now that I had so much time to myself. Run the marathon, take some classes, spend more time with friends, volunteer, etc. While I am living alone once again, there is no way to plan for those things that fill your free time outside of work. I am not spending 5 hours a night watching TV, and even if that were tolerable, there are only 4 channels here. I thought about working out outside, but there are no sidewalks and it gets dark, very dark here by 7pm. I can’t search the web for adult ed classes in French and I am already working for free, so volunteering seems redundant. We have it good in the US because everything is so convenient.

My life is decidedly inconvenient right now and I don’t think this is true of life in general here in Ghana. If I had a car and a tremendous amount of courage to drive around, I would be all set. The lack of stops signs and regular use of the horn would be no problem. In my situation though, I need to take taxis everywhere and the cost of the cabs here rivals those in New York. I also have to barter every time I want a ride and I am sure the cab driver sees my look of desperation to get to the grocery store or the bank or to get a smoothie. My last two cab rides have involved 1) the cab driver getting backed into and then the woman getting out of her car to yell at the taxi driver, followed by the cab driver yelling at me for taking too long and insisting I pay him more and then getting lost on the way back to the hostel – somehow I was able to navigate us back while looking through a window that was so dirty everything looked psychedelically distorted and into headlights that were barely functioning; then 2) no seatbelts. The no seatbelt thing wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t experienced ride #1 and if they had not been intentionally removed from the vehicle. At least #2 was friendly and provided some conversation; he is a Chelsea fan and encouraged me to eat only Ghanaian food while I am here.

I want to preface this next part with the fact that I really do enjoy experiencing life here and am so happy to get the opportunity to live in Ghana for three and a half months, but it is somewhat ironic that I have found myself in the land that really exposes my two eccentric issues – snails and chewing. One I love the other I loathe. So, the snail thing first… I can’t explain it, but I definitely think it has become a phobia. I know they don’t move quickly and are basically harmless but I can’t look at them and it makes me uncomfortable to even think of them. Ghana has the world’s largest snail. It is called the Giant Tiger Snail. While, I didn’t see this one breed in particular, I saw a garden variety snail and the thing was enormous. The shell alone was probably the size of my fist. They think of me as funny in other not so odd ways, so I decided to open up about the snail thing and now one is very excited to take me somewhere where they cook them.

I guess that leads me to the chewing thing. I am a definitely a chewer. I love to spend lots of time masticating every single bite to make sure the pieces are nice and small. I tried the local dish fufu over the weekend. It can be described as a bowl of spicy tomato stew with large pieces of fish, goat, beef, and probably other meats that has a small mound of pounded cassava and plantain dough in the middle. It looks like mashed potatoes but has a sticky consistency almost like bread dough. The idea is to pinch a piece of the dough off, form it into a small scoop, scoop up some of the broth, pop it in your mouth and then swallow. No chewing. The more you chew, the stickier it gets. This was just not easy for me. Tawiah had generously invited me over to her house to watch some American TV, hang out with her 8 month old son, Nana, and eat fufu. I noticed the bites that little Nana was eating were quite similar in size to mine and he seemed to be able to swallow. It took me two bowls of broth to eat most of the fufu and I took bites every time. The curious thing about this whole thing is how much people laugh when I tell them that I chewed the fufu. They laugh and laugh and tell me that I just need to swallow it whole. Maybe next time, but it is doubtful. Besides the whole chewing issue, I really did like the flavor of the soup. Things are very well seasoned here and after spending a few days in London, the flavors of the foods here are glorious in comparison.

With that being said though, I have had some random cravings for things. The heat here reminds me a bit of training for the marathon. Often when I would go for my long runs on the weekends, I would spend a considerable amount of time planning what I would eat after running for 3 hours. Usually, it was which smoothie I would get from Jamba Juice, what popsicle flavor would I choose, which fruits, etc. I am craving a lot of those as well and am starting to go through in my mind what food I will eat first when I get home. One of my good friends was a Peace Corps volunteer and she talked about how her group would sit around and fantasized about what they would eat if there were med-evaced to DC. I am starting to get a sense of that. I realize though that I am at the point where most people are done with their vacations and ready to return home. They had enough change and escape from the ordinary and are ready to return to routine. A vacation this is not. Again, not like it is boot camp or anything… they feed me well and don’t make me wake up early. It is just somewhere in between making a new home in a foreign country and a vacation from convenience.

Trip to the eastern region

This would be my first trip to a new area of the country and I was definitely looking forward to seeing what more there was to this country I was staying in. We ventured out of the city and attempted to avoid the traffic by taking side roads that run parallel to the main roads. This afforded me more views of the way normal Ghanaians live. There are nice houses along the road with shopping areas that come right to the edge of the road. There is barely any room for a car to pull over to purchase something. As we got further and further out of the city, the greenery increased. We drove through a valley that contained pygmy-like palm trees, a few scattered houses that seemed in the process of being constructed – or taken down, and a sign that point toward New York City. In the distance was a tall mountain, covered in trees and what looked like a small narrow road that would along the face of it for quite a ways before disappearing behind it. I soon realized we were heading on that road.

I feel like Americans tend to use the phrase “hairpin turn” a little loosely after traversing this mountain. These were true hairpin turns on the switchbacks that enabled us to climb higher and higher up the mountain. The cement blocks provided some security for not careening over the side, but they looked very new and I assume had probably been added in the last ten years. The view was somewhat obscured by smog, but you could see almost the entire valley of the city and its limits… you could also see how high we really were, so I took a quick glance, remarked at how impressive the view was to myself and then quickly turned my eyes to the road in front of us. We came upon a toll booth after coming down the mountain, which was basically a blue plastic hut with a window area. The toll booth employee leaned out the window to collect our 20 pesawas (equivalent to 20 cents) and we headed on our way. There was no swing arm thing preventing us from moving forward. You just stop and pay the guy.

As we continued on, we passed through small towns that reminded me of the old West in the US -except with cars. The set up is probably similar, there were store fronts right on the main road with are single lane roads that people drive about 75 miles on through towns. Again, there is no real place to pull over and as quickly as we entered the town, we exited. Also, right out of the old west, we passed someone who was trying to herd cattle across the road. The cows got very close to the car and our driver had to beep at them to keep to the side of the road. I thought to myself that this is not the day that I want to kill a cow with a motor vehicle. As we drove into Koforidua, the main city of the eastern region, the buildings become more concentrated and the number of people greatly increased. It felt a bit like the Boston of Ghana. The buildings were lower than in Accra, life felt quite orderly and it was just generally more peaceful seeming for a city than the capital.

So I forgot to mention why I was even driving out here – the point of the one-day excursion was to introduce 250 at-risk girls ages 15-20 to the Girls 1^st program and to get their feedback on the future of the program. I was responsible for organizing the girls into focus groups, developing a focus group survey of information from HIV knowledge to job skills they would be interested in acquiring and training the focus group moderators on how to use the survey and what we were looking for from them. This came after a little impromptu speech from me. Kwame, the Red Cross director, introduced me in Twi, so I couldn’t understand what was being said and then said, “How about saying a few words to the girls?” Um, what??? 250 girls, plus community leaders and assembly people and you want me to say a few things extemporaneously? Thankfully the girls were all just so sweet, so when I said trite things like “I have enjoyed the new foods I have tried in Ghana” they smiled and laughed. And, I don’t think they were laughing at me.

Besides for my especially unremarkable remarks, other women leaders stood to encourage the girls on the importance of this program and the great opportunity they are going to have to learn a new skill that will empower them to make their own money and not have to rely on men. The girls were reminded about how conniving men can be and how it is difficult to trust me at their age. Many girls nodded in agreement and it made me realize the universality of teen problems and challenges. These girls though struggle not just with healthy relationships and avoiding teen pregnancy, but a poverty that is so gripping that prostitution or selling goods on the street is a more viable choice than being in school. I do want to dispel some myths though about poverty in Africa, or at least in Ghana. The children and houses do not necessarily look like those depicted in the commercials by Suzanne Struthers from All in the Family. The girls were dressed like teens from the US for the most part with gaucho pants, jeans, t-shirts and accessories. Most of them also have cell phones. There were 17 girls there who had babies and two were pregnant. These statistics might compare to an area like Lynn, MA or parts of the southern US that don’t have the informational resources to prevent teen pregnancy. I met one 17 year old girl who said that the guy denied he was the father of the baby and took off soon after she disclosed she was pregnant. This is pretty common here. In Massachusetts, as many of you may know, the pregnant woman can go to court to order a paternity test. The man is required by law to submit to the test and if it turns out positive, is required to pay child support. Of course, we all know how well the child support system works for many of these moms, but at least it is better than no system at all.

After a few speeches and some information about the Girls 1^st program, the girls divided into their focus group areas and I sat down with the moderators to explain the questionnaire. I made a novice mistake by not asking if anyone had lead focus group discussions, but luckily Susan came to my rescue to assess the level of experience. All of them had done something like this before, which was kind of surprising to me because I am so used to them being a part of market research, not necessarily development research. So rarely do agencies ask the population they are serving what they themselves would like. It was encouraging news to hear that this is at least a semi-regular occurrence for the Red Cross. After a brief explanation and some key highlights, such as making sure the girls understand that this is a 9 month program and we cannot teach them a skill that would take 2 years or more to master and confirming that they all have enough time during their week to participate in something like this program. We also wanted to assess how many could see themselves running their own businesses.

With anything I am responsible for, I tend to fear the worst. What if the girls don’t talk? What if the survey is confusing for the moderators? Have I offended someone somehow with the wording of my questions? Fortunately, the moderators we had were amazing. They were animated and really engaged the girls in discussions and were just the perfect kind of moderator you would want to have for a program like this. The girls themselves were very impressive too. Most of them seemed excited about the idea of a program just for them and were happy to respond to the questions. I couldn’t understand anything of course, but it was fun walking around and taking pictures. Many loved to pose for the camera, make funny faces, and see their pictures in the preview screen. One girl’s 2 year old walked in my direction and had this look of shock and horror and her cute little face. I was wondering if I was one of the first white people - “obruni” in twi - she had ever seen. Other than that poor little girl’s reaction, the Ghanaians are a very warm and inviting people. Rich, poor, educated, not educated, they all say hello, smile and are just generally nice. At the end, the Red Cross team seemed excited for my return and gave me big hugs. I met the Queen Mother of the community, who I found out overrules all community leaders as this is a matrilineal community. How lucky! She gave me such a big hug that I felt enveloped in her soft, plump skin.

The ride back was much the same as the ride there. Bernard and Susan dozed while I tried to take photos out the window. No cows this time, but I saw a few bigger lizards and kids coming home from school who were picking up water in buckets to carry to their homes. I did notice more mud homes. These are homes whose walls are constructed from the red clay mud that is prevalent here. Asymmetrical bricks are created and the walls are constructed with these bricks. Most have roofs made from that wavy aluminum material and are either hammered down or weighted down with large rocks. Many had large branches leaning against the house that seemed to be attempting to keep the walls from collapsing. Although it keeps the rain out, I can’t imagine it keeps much more out and seems like a stressful way to live. There are some leaning houses in East Boston and I wonder how people can live in them thinking that any day now the house will just fall down. I guess at least the mud hut dwellers are not on the second and third floors.

Commuting in Accra

If you looked at the houses and the cars in the area that I live in, you might mistake it for Pacific Palisades in Los Angeles. Although I am staying at a hostel, I am surrounded by foreign ambassadors, government officials and many of Ghana’s elites. The houses are multiple stories with large yards, surrounded by high fences and security guards at each entrance. There is a new development going up behind the US Embassy and I heard that each house is going to sell for at least $400,000. The builder is either from California or has borrowed the plans for most of the major developments going up in southern California as the houses have the distance Spanish tile roofs and cream-colored stuccoed walls.

Although I am definitely enjoying living in this extraordinarily safe neighborhood, I thought I would check out another place that one of my colleagues found near his house that has running water nearly all of the time. This afternoon around 4pm, Mordicai and I ventured out to see the potential new apartment. While it was only about 10 miles away from the office, I took us 2 hours to get there. I think I lost a few hours of life just from breathing in all of the exhaust.

Everyone commutes in this city, and most commutes take at least two hours to get to work in the morning and two hours to get back home. Generally, the roads consist of two lane roads with a small divider in the middle. The divider provides a platform for young people hocking bags of water, peanuts, soccer paraphernalia, fresh fruit and t-shirts. They walk amongst the cars who are sitting on the roads and wait outside the window for a moment to make sure you aren’t interested in their offerings. I never actually saw anyone buy anything, but I am assuming people get desperate for things like water and food in the hours they must sit there on the roads. In addition to the people, the roads contain a mix of cars, taxis and tro tros. Tro tros are buses about the size of a Volkswagen minibus that pack the people in like sardines before whisking them off to any number of destinations. They also pick people up on the road as they go along. I have heard that you could sit on one for a few hours waiting for it to fill up before it departs… and then they fill it up some more as it travels along.

We made it to the residence finally after driving on a very bumpy dirt road. I was definitely glad to be in an SUV. The Miata would never have made it. It was a very nice apartment complex. The building houses many of the university students, so I would clearly be the oldest one living there -- by far. I was told that in order to make it to work on time from there, I would have to leave by 6 or 6:30. “On time” means 8:30. So that is a two hour commute in a cab every morning. I hated to immediately reject the new place, but no water is certainly preferable to waking up at 5am only to drive two hours, breathe in fumes and listen to someone else’s music. There is a reason I left LA! I was told that everyone does it here though. They cannot afford to live in the middle of the city, so everyone has to commute several hours.

I was told that the city grew too quickly to set up any kind of formal public transportation system, and although politicians talk about it, nothing ever gets done… sounds familiar to my conversations about LA and its traffic issues. I am curious as to why the motorino market here never picked up like it has in many parts of Europe and Asia. The world’s cheapest car was released recently and I can’t even imagine what the impact will be on traffic in already congested areas of urban emerging markets. It doesn’t seem like what the world most needs is access to more cars.

Photos of the water situation

The purple garbage can holds my
weekend water supply.














Three buckets for the
bathroom. I use the bottled
water for brushing my teeth.


This is the main water container
for a few of the rooms.




















Outside of my apartment -
You can see an elevated black
container in the distance.
This is what wealthier people
use to get water to the upstairs.

One week down

Friday was spent primarily in pursuit of a mosquito net. 90% of malaria cases could be prevented with a mosquito net used over the bed at night, so I figured it would probably be a good idea to get one. One of the drivers for World Education, Augustine, was the unfortunate one who got roped into this adventure. First he found a particularly smelly mechanic who would install the hook from which to hang the net. Then we went off to the local hospital to purchase the net. I felt lucky to see the clinic in a situation where I wasn’t in need of medical attention. The waiting area is outside and there are little booths, kind of like voting booths, against a wall that are curtained for doctors to see their patients. The clinic informed us that they were all out of nets, which was a bit worrisome. The next pharmacy that we went to said that they did not have any either, but they called someone else who said they would bring one in about 30 minutes. I am beginning to learn that minutes here are quite longer than they are in the US. 30 minutes in fact actually meant 2 hours.

We ran another errand for another World Ed staff person which included bringing him to a funeral to get the director’s approval on some budget items. I felt lucky again to see a part of Ghanaian daily life without the drawback of actually knowing the person who passed away. At the same time though, it seemed very strange to interrupt a funeral to get someone’s signature on a few documents. Couldn’t it wait? We arrived at Christ the King Catholic Church of Ghana and much like other things in the city, it was pretty chaotic. There were cars parked inside, taxis waiting outside and people selling ice cream and water to funeral goers. I quickly learned that funerals here can easily last three hours. Also, they are very well attended. The church had set up a hundred chairs outside in shaded areas for people to sit who could not fit in the church and they had speakers outside so that they could hear everything. We walked around looking for Susan or her driver to no avail. There was also a chicken walking around, so while I didn’t feel comfortable photographing the funeral attendants; I took some shots of the chicken. While we were on our way out, a little girl about two years old walked right over to me and stood toe to toe with me while looking straight up at me. I waved and she didn’t blink or smile or anything. I crouched down to get at her eye level and a minute later she copied me and crouched down as well. It was very funny. There we were, crouching together. Her family noticed what she was doing and smiled at me. Ahhh, kids are cute everywhere.

After the net was finally purchased and installed, I headed to the W.E.B. du Bois Center for a late lunch. It was a beautiful spot to eat with bamboo fencing under a grass roof. The chairs were cute too with red cushions on bamboo chairs. I twice ordered things that the waiter returned to say they were out of… this is also something I am learning about Ghana. Rarely is everything available on the menu. I finally ended up with something called Jolloff rice (spicy red rice), grilled plantains, some kind of bean that is light with a black center, and breaded fish. They like to eat the whole fish here, so it came with the tail and head intact. A man and a woman sat down next to me and were told that they were all out of rice and out of fish. Apparently I got there just in time. The woman turned out to be from Boston and had taught several African Studies courses at BC. The man was a delegate from Benin and invited me to visit his country.

Today (Saturday), I went to La Palm Beach Hotel. They call it “The La Palm” here. The pool area was spectacular, especially after struggling with bathing this week. The pool was lined with white beach chairs with blue cushions and palm trees. As soon as I put my head under water I felt all of the craziness from this past year, melt away. It was heavenly. Prices are no joke here though. Bottled water costs $3, swimming for the day costs $10, my sandwich with fries was $10 (it was supposed to be $9, but I never saw the change). But, like in the MasterCard commercials, I day spent at the pool after a week of cold bucket baths really was priceless. The pool was visited by primarily expats from Europe. I met one guy from London and another who was working at the World Bank. One of the pool employees offered to be “my friend” which was very nice of him. He quickly moved to a group of three teens from France who seemed much more interested in his friendship. I ended the day with some peach sorbet from the gelateria there and got a driver to take me first to get a smoothie for dinner and then drop me off at the hostel. The city is getting very excited for the African World Cup of Football which starts tomorrow. I saw someone painted head to toe in the colors of the Ghanaian flag. Tomorrow should be pretty interesting. I am also going to see if I can find a bar that will have the Pats game on. There must be some other people in this city interested in real football…just kidding. Oh, speaking of which, I get asked on occasion why American sports teams call themselves “world champions.” I don’t feel like I have a good answer to this question.

Waterless

OK, so the bucket bath… imagine yourself, puff in hand, standing in the tub and staring down at a 3 or 4 gallon bucket of water. I had heard that the important thing to remember with bucket baths is to keep the soap out of the water so that you have clean water to rinse the shampoo out of your hair. I did an excellent job of this, however after soaping up my hair I realized there was no way in hell I was going to be able to lift this bucket over my head. I did some splashing and more contemplating about my next steps and finally realized the only solution was to dump some of the water out and attempt the lifting one more time. Halfway empty and it was still too heavy. I started getting concerned that I wasn’t going to have enough water to actually be able to rinse the shampoo out at this point. The only option I had left was to dunk my head in the bucket. I proceeded to then condition my hair with a little Bumble and Bumble thickening conditioner (seems both anachronistic and unimportant) and rinse the hair in the same water as the shampoo rinse. What else could I do?

So, that was last night (Wednesday) and it is now Thursday night and I have officially no water. No tap water and no bucket water to speak of. The good news is that they sell Dasani here pretty cheaply and am considering bathing in that pretty soon. And why, because it is HOT here. Right now it is a cool 83 degrees in my room and I am sitting directly under a ceiling fan. I think the moving air keeps the mosquitoes away as does the lack of water, so there is a plus to this whole no water thing.

Besides the challenges of living in Africa, I had another interesting day of work. We did a more formal orientation of World Education in Ghana with the whole team. I found out my supervisor, Tawiah (which means sibling of twins), was born on the exact same day as me, only one continent away. Nadia, Tawiah and I had lunch at a cute coffee shop where I was able to drink cappuccino and have a falafel wrap. Ironically, Nadia had a burger and fries with a side of cole slaw. This trip also included my first trip to a Ghanaian grocery story. I love seeing foreign supermarkets. I am such a sucker for packaging and seeing all of these new logos and brand mascots is fascinating. A couple of surprises included the fact that yoghurt here costs $12, but a huge bottle of Dasani is 70 cents. The meat and deli section was interesting and I made Nadia question the butcher about the long narrow items that were mostly pink with a dark black end. Apparently, they were tongues. I went to the grocery store, albeit a different one, a second time for dinner and purchased emmanthal, bread and soup for dinner. Once I got home, I realized that hot soup was certainly not the idea dinner food for this weather and just ate the cheese, bread and some Smartfood which had earlier exploded in my suitcase rendering all of my clothes smelling of white cheddar.

I live near the US Embassy and am hoping to take photos of it despite the warning of “No photography allowed.” It is unlike anything I have ever seen. It is literally a modern day fortress. Apparently, the locals jokingly call is Guantanomo Bay. It is expansive, heavily walled and there is tight security all around. Accra has open trenches lining the roads that seem to be water and garbage drains. I don’t quite get it, but the US Embassy has the nicest exposed drains that I have seen so far. I am also hoping to get a shot of these! Speaking of the US, Ghanaians that I have met so far are very interested in the US primary election. They know all about the candidates on both sides and have strong opinions about the Bush administration. They seem to favor Obama and feel that he would best heal America’s reputation abroad.

One other interesting thing that people have been asking me, not that it is unusual, but that it rarely is asked in the States, is what church I belong to. I have twice responded with “Congregational,” which elicited looks of confusion. I was also asked how often I go to church, and my response of Christmas and Easter was met with considerable laughter. I think they thought I was joking. The best was when Nadia asked me if there was singing and dancing at my church and I couldn’t help but think of the contrast of their church experiences, where it is probably very lively and interactive with my own, which would be considered subdued at the very least in comparison. Hopefully, they will invite me to go with them on Sunday so I can get the experience of going to church in Africa. Maybe I will pray for running water…

48 hours and still no water…

48 hours and still no water…

I arrived in Ghana safely and am adjusting to the HOT weather, spicy food (even at breakfast) and uneven living conditions. I am officially going on my second night of no running water and have two large buckets that are waiting for me to attempt my first bucket shower. I am not sure I can even lift them! Despite the challenges, the bugs and the heat, I am VERY happy. It feels good to be breaking out of the comfort zone of hot running water, familiar food, nearby gyms and air conditioning. There is so much to take in that the little inconveniences are really not bothering me that much.

OK, so enough about me… if Ghana is for beginners, I can’t really imagine what the other students must be going through in other parts of Africa. The city of Accra is an assault on the senses. There is a chaos in most areas, apart from the few blocks around where I live and work, with cars, motorcycles and people playing chicken with each other to get to their destinations faster. For those of you who know me well, I tend to have a very good sense of smell. I am not sure if this is a good thing here. The food all has intense odors and smelling it in the morning is tough. Different parts of the city have their own smells – some smoky, some muddy and some with a mix of food wafting into the streets. It is unlike anything I have experienced in the states.

The wonderful thing about Ghana so far is the people. They are unbelievably nice and so interested in helping me out. There is a driver at World Education who brings me to get dinner and makes sure I get to my apartment safely. He removed two dead cockroaches from my apartment last night (these are hopefully the only ones I will see!) and offered to get me more water when he found out that I didn’t have water again. The rest of the people at World Ed are just great. They have good senses of humor and are trying to teach me the local language of Twi.

Today (Wednesday), I had a field trip with one other staff member from World Ed, Bernard, and several members of the Red Cross team from the eastern region. We ventured to the Central Market area of Accra to visit an organization that is doing something similar to what we are attempting. They run a residential program that rescues female victims of child labor, provides them with basic education (literacy and mathematics), STD and HIV education, job skills training (hairdressing, dressmaking, jewelry making, and baking), and basic business skills to ensure their success. They accomplish all of this in nine months, which is very impressive but also very encouraging since that is the same timeframe for the World Education project I am working on.

OK, I am off to attempt the bucket shower. Wish me luck!!

En Route to Ghana

Day 1, January 14, 2008 - London's Heathrow Airport

Hello and welcome to the blog of my three.five month adventure of interning in Ghana. I am currently in transit and have a 6 hour layover in London. I should arrive in Accra at about 11pm at which point a driver named Julius is picking me up and bringing me to either a hotel or my apartment (my housing hasn't been finalized yet!).

For those of you who haven't heard, I am interning with World Education for the semester and will be working on an HIV prevention program in the eastern region of the country. Specifically, I have been tasked with interviewing 250 girls between the ages of 12 and 19 to find out what they currently know about HIV and other STDs, what job skills they have and what job skills they would be interested in pursuing and the business skills they are interested in acquiring to further their job skills. The focus of the program will be to further career opportunities and increase their capacity to succeed in these careers.

Quite possibly, this could change knowing the nature of international work! I am pretty tired after a long trip over to London. It is hard to believe I still have one more flight to go!