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.