I spent the first three hours of the trip in the back of the bakkie (truck) with three other people. Cierra, Cat, Jerome, and I squished ourselves into a camper shell, on top of the mattresses we would be sleeping on for the next month. I was glad that it wasn't hot; I couldn't imagine sitting back there in the summer heat. We played cards. Jerome talked us into trying biltong, which is Namibian beef jerky. We told Jerome that we wanted to be Namibian. He told us that we would be on probation for the next three days, and that we needed to learn the national anthem.
By the time we stopped for lunch, we were grumpy from hunger and queasy from riding sideways down bumpy roads. We ate fried egg sandwiches that we'd brought along, and bought french fries and drinks from the grocery store.
The drive was long, and I had ample time to think about my expectations for the trip. Here is what I wrote in my journal that night:
"I want to listen more and speak less. I want to care more about what others are saying and to daydream less. I want to live with a deeper understanding and a greater concern for what life looks like, and how people around the world live. I want to focus less on words that hurt me and more on blessing others with what I choose to say. I want to speak scripture as everyday language."