"Somewhere around here is where Antoine de Saint-Exupéry must have crashed his plane," I told Shoshana as we were flying between the Algerian and Mali border. I almost cried when I saw the Saharan dunes from the plane, and landing in Africa for the first time gave me emotional chills. I'm now laying in bed at the hotel in Accra watching CNN and jet-lagged as hell, wondering what new experiences tomorrow will bring. I never imagined myself traveling this far, but I always pictured myself collecting stories; life stories. "Aren't you acting a little bit paranoid?" Victor suggested after I asked if I could wash my teeth with the water from the sink. "Probably it's because of the malaria pills," I suggested as I scanned the room for mosquitos.

My eyes are closing.