I'm a very adventurous person who loves to go new places and try new things. My eagerness to travel has long been rooted with my faith. Six years ago I decided to go along on a mission trip with my church to Milwaukee , Wisconsin. This trip first ignited my fondness for traveling and going new places. The experience proved to be so fulfilling I continued to go around the country with my church, meeting new people from all walks of life. I've gone on seven different trips to places from Rapid City, South Dakota all the way to Queens, New York. Each trip was unique and rewarding.
After my last trip to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, in the summer of 2005. I was left with a slight distaste. Don't get me wrong, I loved the trip and had a great time, but things seemed to be getting a bit redundant. I wasn't sure I really wanted; I just knew I wanted to go further away and see something I had never seen before. The next winter of I read the list of different mission trips my church was putting on, and as soon as I saw Tanzania, Africa, listed I knew that I needed to go there. About fifty signatures and eight
shots in the arm later I found myself with four airplane tickets that would after many hours of air travel, and layovers, drop me off in Africa.
As I began unpacking my suitcase and putting away my cloths in the cabin that I would be staying in for the next two days my stomach growled for the satisfaction of a real meal. The five hour bus ride out to the national park in which we were staying limited my appetite to only a few crackers and a couple pieces of candy. It was seven p.m. and the sun was almost already set. It would still be another half an hour before the Messai guide would come to pick me up and lead me to dinner. As I unpacked the last of my clothing two harsh raps sounded against the door. I opened the door and found myself face to face with a man wearing a scarlet red robe draped across his body, both of his ear lobs were...
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