Ducks Call, Blackville, Rwanda  I get off an airplane. I feel very disoriented, like I'm losing awareness, because I've been traveling so much. I don't know where I am. I've lost track of the numerous airplane flights. I walk down the ramp. Some people go to the left to get luggage. That isn't the correct way to go; I go to the right. There are many luggage carousels. I don't know which will have my luggage on it. Some carousels are labeled with names. I walk to one that I think is correct because I vaguely recognize the people around it as being on the same flight as I. The luggage starts to feed out onto the carousel. I stand on the flat side and wait. A very large piece of cream-colored luggage appears. A young man runs after it and grabs it as it approaches me from my left. It's a very big, heavy bag, and appears to be hard-sided. As he grabs it, its slow but steady momentum makes him lunge forward, jerking his body. He manages to jerk and drag it off the carousel, and I see that it's not hard-sided, but is made of flimsy black cloth. The man starts to swear because there is a cello in the bag, and it was bumped when he removed it from the carousel. The carousel area is in the bush. There are sparse trees and pale green tall grasses around, dry looking scrub brush. I see a cellular phone on the carousel as it goes past me. I go after the phone because I know it's a man's phone: he is there but just missed it. I go to grab it and give it to him. I pick up the phone and am going to toss it to him but I don't: I'll walk it over to him. All the lighting in the area turns off: the area is dark. A dull, dim, but noticeable light is cast around and upon me. I feel on the spot: uneasy having a light shined on me in the dark. I may go to give the phone to its owner. I think I may have hit a button by accident when picking it up. The light on me changes its intensity. I walk with my grade school classmate Patrick Bergman. It's dark. We have some fleeting light at times to view what is in front of us. I see tan-colored mud, bubbling and boiling, giving off steam. We sidestep or trek lightly through this. We arrive at an entrance-like area where several young adults are. My friend Holly Lapson is there with two others, one of whom is a woman I recognize from school. They're at the entrance to act as greeters. We talk a bit. I am uneasy because of my past behavior around them: I've always been fairly antisocial in appearance and demeanor. Holly says there are two groups, one of which is going out tonight to do an activity. She reads the names of three or four people who are in this evening group. Then she tells me I'm with the morning group. She points out several small cabin-like shacks that are our lodgings. I know that this is a camp-like organization where meetings of young adults take place, in groups. I'm then in a crowd of people in the camp. I see many people I know, including my friend Emerald Reinhold, who waves and smiles at me. She's wearing gray with a hint of bright orange on a zipper; it may be fleece. Holly is there. I walk by my high school classmates Daryl and Chris Yeller. One of them walks on each side of me. I say hi. I see my high school classmates Kristy Puffy and Amber Sherman. My friend Jill Banks is there. I think Jill is back from Africa. I see two Jill Banks', who look exactly alike. There is a girl there who seems to be Jill's younger sister. I sit by myself as people walk and talk to each other. The atmosphere is friendly and happy. A younger blond man comes up to me. I vaguely recognize him as a basketball player, which is how he knows me. He says something like, "Hey Hanson, how's it going?" I respond lukewarmly, say, "Okay." I talk with Kristy. I'm losing awareness because I've been traveling so long. I ask her where we are because I honestly have no idea. She says we're at the Duck's call, which is the name of the camp. I ask where it is, and she says Blackville. I ask where that is, and she says Rwanda! I recognize the name of Rwanda to be in Africa. I ask if we're in Africa and she says yes. Wow. I can't believe I'm in Africa. This is an orientation outing, to get to know people. I think this is a really long way to have flown for orientation.