Mi Dacie—A Non Fiction Story Turned Fiction

Mi Dacie—A Non Fiction Story Turned Fiction



When I walked off the metal bird, I stepped into a sea of humidity, and I easily stood out like a sore thumb, but being the inverse of all the naturals. One of the weirdest feelings is coming in on a rollercoaster and stopping on a bumpy, dusty, redish-brown dirty snow called African sand as a driveway for all metal birds. Walking into the airport from the all-dirt landing strip where we landed (by chance, there was only one landing strip for the whole airport, and this is in the capital city), we all were welcomed by a bunch of “Akwaaba’s” and hearing people holler out “a bruni! A bruni!” And when we got our luggage, we all had a chance to feel the read caulk in our eyes from us landing and had a chance to really taste the red caulk. I wish it would have tasted like pizza sauce. Sadly enough, it didn’t. I almost started to cry in pizza sauce. That would have been super tasty. That would of also been the best food I had there.

But one of the worst feelings there is that everything sweats. My toes sweat. My body sweats. My food sweats. I sweat in the shower. Heck, even sweat sweats. We couldn’t go anywhere to escape our sweat. We tried covering our sweat with our sweat, but that didn’t work. So we just slept in our sweat, with the air conditioners going at 60 degrees. Whatever that makes out to be in Celsius.

One of the weirdest things when I was there was when I walk outside and down the street, I hear a loud “psst!” and look over and see someone waving at me. My first several days of such, I thought they wanted to tell me a secret across the street. Afterwards, I find out that they were they were trying to get my attention. Sorry.

But at the end of the trip, stepping back onto the metal bird, sitting down, and flying off, I wish the time could of lasted a little while longer. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll come back in a few years. Or this all was just a simply dream. If a dream, help us all God! But if it’s reality, if so, I may challenge one of my future “guys” to do what I did for a summer. And if this is reality, I may challenge one of those pretty smelling ladies with the seatbelts up front to a pose down! Oh yeah!