I was extremely disheartened when I heard that I would be stationed at the most neglected area among all the camps we were setting up in Ivory Coast. There’s no internet there. While other camps had air conditioning and were closer to the city, mine would be in a tent, more like a countryside setting.
When I finally reached my first camp after a long day’s journey and it was almost evening, strangely, I felt very calm. My camp was in a secluded valley surrounded by hills.
Hills have been my first love. Though I slept soundly that night due to exhaustion, my first dawn in Isiaye was so beautiful that I was speechless in awe.
As soon as I woke up, I saw an incredibly beautiful, green valley. Nestled within it, like a handful in the palm of my hand, was a small camp. Winding around it were steep, hilly roads. A little further away, on another high valley, was a neat little town that seemed to be overshadowed by a colossal black mountain, like a prehistoric god.
The most delightful moment came when I saw a flock of ashen herons flying up from a deep gorge right beside me, emerging from the morning mist like a riddle. I’ve seen flocks of cranes flying in the sky before. But the sight of a flock of ashen herons rising from a deep mountain gorge in such a rhythmic, poetic manner was simply extraordinary. How can I express the wonder of it? I fell in love with it.
For the next five months, I lived a dream in Ishia. Through countless activities, I had grown very close to the hearts of the people in that small hill town. I won’t tell that story today.
Whenever I felt extremely low, I would climb alone to the peak of that distant black mountain. Evening would fall over the town right before my eyes. One by one, the lights would come on. Dense darkness would envelop me from all sides. But I didn’t want to go anywhere else. The deeper the evening grew, the darker the darkness became. Just below the mountain, deep within the forest, the peaceful, solemn hymns from the church seemed to float on the winter wind like a deep sorrow. I would sit on that mountain peak like a saint, drenched in the darkness.
