Signing off and going to ground

Sitting in a coffee shop in the international terminal at Istanbul Airport with Fleur de Lis playing in the background. Surreal does not begin to describe the mental turmoil.

Wednesday was a day of seeing post-op patients. A rewarding way to finish up in Darkoush. This was followed by the expected protracted (that doesn’t appear grammatically correct but I will plead sleep deprivation and hypoxia) farewells before the journey home began. Due to the military activity in Damascus and Jisr al-Shagour and resultant increase in border security on the Turkish-Syrian border, time spent at the river crossing was kept to a minimum.
My wish to cross an international border in a makeshift raft at dusk by moonlight was fulfilled.

The start of a series of layovers began in Antakiyya / Antioch. Removing the Syrian mud, running water showers and no sleep. Red eye flight to Istanbul. Then Cairo and home.

Steve Jobs sums p some of what is bustling around in the post Syria vacuum:

“Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart”.

There will be no mortar fire at night. No gunfire in celebratory panache. No heavily armed guards.

I will be back at work soon after I touch down in Mzanzi so will be going to ground and flying below the radar for a while. On resurfacing, the torrent of photos will be unleashed.

Ma’a salama

مع السلامة


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