What's missing?

 What's missing?

I’ve been pondering this over and over in my mind and in my heart all weekend. What is missing right now in my life? Nothing is missing as far as my essential needs are concerned. We have a nice place to live, plenty of food, a good job.  In our  2 bedroom apartment we have 3 bathrooms and even though there is always one of these that is leaking water somewhere and the toilet seats are cracked and have been changed several times since our arrival and the eating area is claustrophobic, I have nothing to complain.  I still have our 5^th floor balcony where I can observe Guinean life day by day, moment by moment. Today for example, there was a large gathering in the courtyard in front of us. Raymond and I contemplated the scene that was playing itself out. People were all dressed up, some sitting on chairs, children playing by themselves and a large woman singing from a megaphone. The atmosphere was solemn. “Maybe someone died,” I told Raymond. We could not figure it out. At least it did not look like a political rally. We know what those look like now! Later in the day, when I went for my usual walk to the corner store, I asked the neighbour who was busy trimming a tree, what this ceremony was all about. He explained that it was a wedding and that in their Muslim custom the religious wedding occurred in the home and then later there would be the legal wedding at the city hall. I thanked him for the information and wondered if the families had now left to eat and dance in a hall somewhere, like we Canadians celebrate weddings. Somehow I don’t think this was the case. Still it had been all pretty solemn. Come to think of it, weddings are a serious affair!

So what’s missing? I do have a good job that I like and that I work very hard at right now, because I have so many course preparations and it is all new to me. I do enjoy my students and I do enjoy re-learning everything I learned in Middle School myself.  After the success of our Open House on Saturday, I have nothing to complain.  The food continues to be great, especially the fresh vegetables and fruits. Even though mango season is over, there are still juicy pineapples, plenty of big and small bananas, huge avocados, potatoes, zucchinis, green peppers, tomatoes, onions, apples, oranges and grapefruits. There are stall after stall overflowing with the fresh produce so we can eat to our heart’s desire for a fraction of the Canadian prices. Salad, spinach, broccoli and cauliflower are the only veggies missing in my diet. An interesting anecdote that came to my awareness this week in regards to the other foods we consume(canned goods, cheese, milk, yogurt, canned meats, eggs etc). I walked into the corner store and noticed the store workers busy as bees, unpacking boxes and filling the shelves. I had noticed that the shelves were getting bare. I spoke to the store owner and he explained. “The port was closed for the past 2 weeks because of the riots due to the election campaign, he explained. “Orders were given that no freighters were to dock, so no products were delivered in any of the stores in Conakry. Our economy has suffered due to this. But now business is back because everything is calmer now. That is good.” He continued stacking items, seeming relieved.  I had no idea that the political events of the last few weeks had that much of a domino effect on the local population. For a city that is built on a peninsula, it is critical that the port stay open and functioning smoothly. Most of the goods  people use arrive by freighters, are docked at the port and are brought in town by big trucks at times and by small men pushing humongous carts at other times.  It makes for very interesting scenery as we drive through Conakry.

So what’s missing is still the unanswered question. I often feel like I am looking for something deep inside of me, something that needs to be filled. Weekends are lonely and boring. Perhaps it is just that there is nothing to do other than school work. It feels like I don’t have a life. I have met a few people but I still feel isolated. Walking around is not easy because of the hot and humid climate, the noisy and careless drivers and the dirty streets with non-existing sidewalks. Most of all there is basically nowhere to go and nothing to do.  I have nothing to do on weekends, at least nothing like what I used to do in Vancouver. So is that what is missing…something to do?  I think it runs deeper than that. I think more pondering is necessary, but I have a sense that I miss belonging to a community. Today I found a church and got driven there by my Spanish friends Tanit and Patrick. It was very nice and invigorating…a small Catholic Church of 50 people, with a choir of 5 people that belted out hymns, accompanied by the African drums, their voices so strong that it blew the roof away. I felt at home here. Father George, the East Indian priest was inspiring. I will make this my regular Sunday morning routine.  This is community and it does fill my soul.  I still need a larger community to belong to and this may happen as I get more comfortable living here. I may need to belong to many small communities while I am here.  This is how I lived my life in Vancouver: first I had my family and home community, then my work communities, my gym community, my women’s group, my close friends and my neighbourhood community. I had many small groups that I belonged to and that would fulfill my life. After saying all this I do admit there was a bright spot in my week last Monday and this may add to my need of community. The highlight of my week was going to an African dance class where I met a dozen expatriate women all willing to follow the handsome instructor Ibrahim as he jumped from one intricate step to another. It was fun and a great workout too! All in all, today’s reflection leads me to see the importance of belonging. If I left Conakry right now, I would have a sense of unfinished business, but there would be no strong feelings of grief. I have not made any strong attachments yet. Perhaps that is what is missing in my life right now: a sense of belonging. I don’t feel I belong here yet.

 

 

School

School is a good place! School is a happy place! School is a fun place!  Here a few pictures of my students. Olivier, a grade 8 boy from Rwanda is very wise for his age. It will be interesting to see where he goes in his life and what he becomes. he is grounded and sensitive and very well liked by all. The girls picture from the farthest are Fredrein from Sierra Leone, a nice, polite all around good kid who looks older than a grade 6 student, Almitra, a grade 8 student from India who is interested in traveling around the world before she turns 18 and Lebo from South Africa, my 13 year old rebel with a mission to become herself! Here they are...vibrant, energetic and lively! Look at the principal, Dr. Lemoine enjoying his chawarma! 

What I know for sure

What I know for sure……

 

When was the last time you read Oprah’s monthly magazine?  On the last page of the O magazine, Oprah always writes a short article entitled “What I know for sure”.  Inspired by this title, I felt drawn to writing about what I know for sure in the context of my life in Africa.  Here goes!

 

What I know for sure is that  as I drive on my way to school, I will see chickens running across the road. Ever wonder why the chicken crossed the street?  It’s not only to get on the other side, but to avoid the Guinean traffic, which may include men pulling huge wheelbarrows, half ton trucks, motorcycles or 4  by 4’s !  What I also know for sure is that I will see several men urinating along a building or in the field along the railroad or close to a few goats busy munching the grass(the grass that the men were just urinating on….think about that, next time you eat goat meat!) I will see women and children washing or brushing their teeth right in front of me as we drive by.   I will see people set up stands to sell fruits and vegetables. I will see toddlers sitting on pee pots. I will see women brushing, pulling and combing girls’ hair, tying it tightly in corn rows.  I will smell the muggy morning air. I will see people dashing across the autoroute.  I will see mounds of rice being sold by gossiping women and men carrying baskets overflowing with loaves of fresh bread. I will see albinos, the same few every day and I will do a double take, convinced that they are white folks like me.

 

When I get to school, what I know for sure is that I will hear the roosters crow throughout the day. I will also see geckos scurry just in front of me. I will see the same 4 hens hiding under the bushes, their chicks huddling close to them.  I will take in the view of this school yard in a tropical setting like I’ve never seen before, with its' single papaya tree brimming with un-ripened green fruit and the flowered bushes undulating the rocky path to my classroom. I will smell the salty ocean air, hear the waves crash on the jagged rocks and feel the hot windy breeze  on my face.   Before I open the door to my classroom I will see the four maintenance workers in brown uniforms cleaning up the entire school yard, trimming the bushes, pulling out weeds and sweeping the sidewalks.  This is the reality of my life in Guinee five days a week at my little school, the American International School of Conakry.

What I know for sure is that my 8^th week begins in Conakry and I am still amazed by my daily observations of the Guinean way of life. It fascinates me, troubles me at times and touches me at other times. It is a journey into this new world in Africa that teaches me about a culture, a people, a nation.  It teaches me about my own resiliency, adaptability and creativity. For this experience I feel blessed and lucky!

 

(On the picture:  Can you find the roosters in the school yard???)

Eid Al Fotor

What a week this has been! First we had Monday off because the Muslim community ended Ramadan and then we had Friday off because the Muslim community celebrated Eid AlFotor which to my understanding is like Christmas to us! So as I was walking to the corner store, people were saying Bonne fete, Bonne Fete! Little kids shook my hand. People were dressed up in beautiful colors. Men and boys were wearing long tunics and many had the small round hats which added to the festive tone of the day. Music was playing in the streets and spilled out from people's homes. From my small balcony on the 5th floor, I can see that celebration is in the air! No one is selling items. The women are extravagantly dressed and not walking with banana trays on their heads...no, not today! I answered back: Bonne fete to anyone who addressed me and anyone who made eye contact.

Because of the feast of Eid Al Fotor,the school staff was invited to the Saudi Arabian ambassador's residence. What a feast that was! Trays and trays of food, boxes of chocolate and dates displayed everywhere in the living room along side Saudi jewelery. I remember the jewelery from my days living in Riyadh as it was quite elaborate yet cheap. His Excellency the ambassador and his youngest son Hussein were very gracious hosts. Hussein, a grade 10 student at our school spoke softly to Raymond asking if he was doing a good job of hosting! This was our exciting Friday night and our second outing and visit to someone's home. Seems like we "hang out" with ambassadors! This could make for a very interesting year!

The road not taken

In Canada it is the Labour Day weekend and here it was the end of Ramadan, the month long fasting and feasting of the Muslim community. It has been a more quiet day out on the street. We could tell it was Holiday.

I spent all afternoon, pouring over my books and trying to decide what textbooks to use with my students. I’ve assessed them now and I have a better sense of their abilities and how far I can take them. As I was preparing tomorrow’s grade 8 English Literature lesson, I fell upon a favorite poem of mine by Robert Frost. The poem is called The Road Not Taken and I probably studied this when I was in Middle School. Here are a few lines :

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveller, long as I stood

And looked down as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth

 

 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 

I think Robert Frost wrote this poem for me  as I ponder  the road I have taken, the choice I made to live in Conakry, Guinee.  Last year was a year of reflection for me. It was a year of deep self-evaluation. It was a year of discernment. It was like walking on a road in the forest of choices.  The decision of living overseas was challenging.  It was a year-long process of tossing ideas around about the motivations that I had and the motivations Raymond had to want to go live elsewhere outside Canada. We talked about leaving our  children, our home, our  well paying jobs and our comfortable lifestyle. Why leave everything behind ? What are we looking for ?  Are we crazy to leave all this ?

 Dialogue after dialogue, our road became clearer.  I kept asking : what motivates us to do this?  Raymond answered that he wanted to end his teaching career working overseas. He also wanted three things : 1) to live in a warm place 2) to make tons of money and 3) to not work too hard. He didn’t get all his 3 wishes by coming to Conakry, he only got the first!  For me, wherever we did land, it was imperative that living in an overseas location would have to be good for Raymond, good for me and good for us as a couple. So Conakry came to the surface of our choices and it looks like Conakry chose us!

 My personal quest had been long coming. I had been stressed for the 2 past years as far as my career was concerned. My personal and social life was great but not my career life.  I was extremely dissatisfied with the public school system. I felt limited with the counseling work I could do in schools  and simultaneously I felt stressed and stretched beyond my capacities and time with the demands of this job.  Too much time was spent with useless paper work and not enough people work.  Too much time was spent in meetings and not enough time was actually spent with students. Too much of my time was spent talking about needy students and not enough time was spent actually helping and supporting those needy students. Elementary schools are very intense places to work and I resisted the fast pace.  I wanted to get out of this system, this box called the school system. My head was always buzzing with mental to-do lists.  It was like I was always running in my head.  I started looking for counseling jobs elsewhere,  outside the school system. I met the chiroprator who was also manager of  Port Moody Integrated Health, a centre that offers massage therapists, chiropracticians  and a naturopathic doctor.  He was looking for a counselor in private practice to complete the services.  I was very attracted to this work, imagine actually counseling !  I could see myself greeting clients, seeing many different kinds of people and helping persons that really wanted counseling. I let myself dream for awhile. Then the reality of paying $600 rent every month(whether I had seen clients or not), having 2 weeks holiday a year and working evenings and Saturdays came to break my bubble of temporary joy.  I could not acccept these working  conditions, not at this point in my life.  After I let go of this dream, I applied for the Fraser Valley College in Abbotsford where they were looking for a college counselor. This job appealed to me even more as there was freedom to create and lead workshops pertaining to anxiety, stress and career choices at the college level. I never received a reply and I was dissapointed. Looks like my road was not leading me in that direction.

So the road not taken was the comfortable road, the road I drove so often to 50 Bedingfield Street in Port Moody, BC. That was the road I loved to take because it took me home. Now home is here in Conakry.  This road  I chose is leading me deep inside myself to the depths of me. Living here is teaching me important life lessons about money, lifestyle, comfort and the difference between wants and needs.  It is teaching me to ask important questions about the way I lead my life.  Living here in Africa is teaching me about me. And that is making all the difference.

(This is Bivan Camara our driver, posing with the school vehicle he drives every day on the many rocky roads of Conakry.)