Going North to Get South

Have you ever watched somebody go about an action so wrongly, but you just don't know how to tell them? Like when you all pile into the car to go to the local rec center, museum, or even just another friend's house, and the driver takes off in the wrong direction? Of course they eventually arrive, but you know and harbor the guilt (or pleasure) in knowing that you could have made it there much faster if they would have just gone the route that you know? Well, that is kind of how I feel right now. While I am writing this I am flying over the North Pole on my way to Western Africa. Yup, I'm headed north to get south. I am not sure what it says about capitalism (or maybe socialism since I am on a European airline) that the cheapest ticket to West Africa flew over the North Pole? (it was $700 cheaper). But, being the thrifty scout and law student I am I had to take it. That's not to say that the detour has not been without it's rewards. Greenland is absolutely stunning from the air (I can only imagine from dog sled (I didn't see a single sign of civilization)). The sun has now been setting in the northern horizon for a good two hours. Its normally evanescent orange, illuminating the snow capped peaks, has failed to leave us behind. Truly this day will never end. The 96 year old Grecian sitting next to me has forgotten at least ten times that I don't speak Greek, and had told me at least five times that she makes her own bread and milks her own goats in Greece. None of this junk Macdonald stuff. I will spend a total of 18 hours in a window seat where I stare at all of God's wonderful creations. (I will also have spent, by the time you read this, 11 hours in airports watching many of God's less wonderful work works). But still, in spite of all these great benefits of going the long way around, I still feel like I am going to wrong direction. I mean, have you ever seen a bird fly north for the winter?