I was visiting a country in central Africa, where there were wide expanses of gorgeous, low-lying plains surrounded by dry, hilly regions. I was there to do scientific research. The city in the hills where I arrived was terraced with cobblestone and yellow soil roads—large, wide steps, really, that led down the hills. Dwellings covered the terraces, with few trees or any greenery.
An enormous, beat-up red pickup truck carted me around with several other people here to do research. Some were familiar faces. My children had arrived in this city with us but were staying elsewhere while I ventured out into the countryside to take a look around. I was there to serve, to help with a project, but it was my immediate surroundings that captivated me.
The driver of the pickup truck turned the vehicle backwards and proceeded to speed down the terraces, slamming the rear end of the truck—an open bed, containing several people, including me—with each step as we went down a seemingly endless and rather steep hill. Dust billowed around us as the truck slammed down with each step. Apparently this was a common way of traveling through the city. Go backwards at a high speed and threaten to toss out the people riding in back.
We left the city and drove out into the plain. It was blissfully peaceful and a much more moist climate. We did what we had to do out there and loaded back into the truck. Then I noticed the gathering storms in the distance. The sky looked so huge, so endless, we could see so far. Black wisps of clouds were curling around, organizing up high, and as my eyes scanned the expanse, I realized there were several funnel clouds touching down, very far away. These were long thin strands of black, an army of them. The longer I looked, the more I saw, so far away that it was impossible to tell if they would reach us.
Although it was the middle of the day, it became as night, and the driver of the truck began to travel not back into the hills, toward the city, but out into the plain, toward the storms. I muttered to myself that this was crazy. I had dreamt about being in tornadoes, and that had been frightening, but now I was really going to drive into one, and this would finally be the end of me.
As we continued on the sky grew dark and night truly appeared to have descended upon us. I could see pools of water ahead, and trees around us. Dark grey funnel clouds swirled and swarmed and loomed ahead. The driver slowed down to navigate through the pools and lakes, apparently covering the road, if there was one. Everything was strangely quiet. No one spoke.
Without incident, we suddenly emerged from whatever storm there had been, into an uphill road surrounded by flower and brilliant greenery. Sunlight was shining down gloriously upon us. The entire landscape was transformed. There was no sign of any storm whatsoever. We returned to the city totally full of joy.