Here I am, 7 days into my trip. 7 days of little to no sleep. 7 days of feeling (like) a stranger.
A recap: I'm in Namibia, on a business trip. I'm certain that my colleagues would call this "field work" instead. But, by most conventions, I'm definitely on a business trip. Gaudy hotel: Check. Lavishly-wrapped bars of hand soap that double as body soap: Check. Obscenely-priced hotel laundry service: Check. Check. The smell from smoking rooms wafting down the corridor. Check mate.
I'm stationed in Windhoek, the capital. Monday is the 20th anniversary of Namibia's independence. Rumors suggest that Raul Castro will be making an appearance. I'll ask him to autograph my Cigna card.
Pictures, later/tomorrow.
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