A few months ago I climbed aboard a crowded plane in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, at 10 at night. Four flights, two continents, and about 26 hours later, I stepped off another plane in Lexington, Ky., where it was only late afternoon. To say I was disoriented is an understatement, especially after crossing 16 time zones in seven days (not a feat I recommend). But what was even more disorienting was the contrast between my ride to the airport one day and my drive home the next.

Working cart horses wait beside the road to Debre Zeit, Ethiopia, in late November 2013

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