Chapter 2: Meeting my First Wwoof Host

Still sitting on a log at Jakolof Bay, I sat there and waited for my host.  You see, I am what you would call a wwoofer.  What is that you may ask?  There is a program called Wwoof which stands for Working Worldwide On Organic Farms.  At least, that’s my definition of it.  I found out about it when I was losing my mind back at home and desperately needed to get away. That was when I started researching the best ways to travel if you are on a budget.  Wwoofing gives you the ability go literally anywhere in the world and have the chance to help out on an organic farm.  In return for your work you get three meals a day and a place to sleep.  It is known as one of the cheapest ways to travel.  It was the perfect combo for me, since I love gardening and always had wanted to travel.  Anyway, that is why I am here waiting on my very late host to pick me up from this abandoned car graveyard in Alaska.  My excitement was slowly fading away and jet lag was quickly replacing it.  Pulling out my journal I started to scribble in it, just thinking about everything that had led up to this point.  She was officially thirty five minutes late, had she forgotten about me?  I would call her with my 1% battery life left on my phone, but I had absolutely no signal.  And it was getting dark very quickly.  Suddenly I heard wheels coming quickly on a nearby dirt road.  Turning around the bend of pine trees, a Toyota Hiace truck drove up towards the dock near the boats and came to a stop.  A lady stepped out and came around the front of the funny looking truck.  She was the most interesting person I had ever seen.  Her clothes were brightly colored, and her hair was done in the most elaborate way.  There were ribbons of all shades twisted into her graying hair  that went into a spiral and came down into a braid.  She also had thick black frames that framed her face nicely.  “Leya?” She asked, squinting her eyes at me.  Picking up my small suitcase an shoving my journal back into my book bag I said, “Hi!  You must be Sakina?” I asked.  “Yes Yes!” She said, as I walked towards her and shook her hand.  I said, “It is so nice to finally meet you!”

Reviews

[Christopher Miller]

That answers my question of 'why Alaska'. Sakina's appearance could be expanded on more, to tell us what exactly made her the most interesting person you've ever met. The phrase 'frames that framed her face' was a bit alliterative and repetitive, would 'glasses' work?