September 2011 is now here and we are back in school mode working at our little school with the big heart: American International School of Conakry(AISC), here in Guinea. Am I glad to be back? I do not have the same enthusiasm as I did last year. I do not vibrate at the newness of everything like I used to last year. I do not get frustrated with everything that does not work. I know my reality now. There is a sense of acceptance of my life as it is, here in Guinea, Africa. Am I glad to be back? I am glad to be working at the school and want to complete the projects that I had started last year. I and we did commit to a 2 year contract and we will honour that, but I am finding living in Conakry more challenging than last year and I do look forward to a more comfortable lifestyle and a new place to live in the world.On September 14, Raymond and I announced to the school staff that we would not renew our contract and that we will leave in June 2012. We explained that we love the school, staff and parent community but living in Conakry is very challenging. All the teachers were sitting around the table in the staff room and not a word was spoken. Even if I was at peace with our decision, I could feel the sadness and tension in the room. I wanted to jump out of my skin! Some teachers were crying and most were staring at the table, eyes downcast. I had feared that there would be a big reaction from the staff but not this big. This was a solemn moment. Africans, I have come to observe tend to be more contemplative than we North Americans. We process information, crises and difficult situations by talking and talking more. Africans are more quiet. They let news of any kind sink inside of them; they honour silence and are comfortable in a room full of people that are silent. So at our announcement, they were processing the news they had just heard, in silence. One teacher looked straight at me and said “you” pointing at me. I shrugged my shoulders, bit my lip and tried a half-smile as I squirmed in my chair. She was telling me that she did not like our decision. Since last year, she had been telling me that we needed to stay at least another two years, that the school was doing so well with the two of us here, that the school needed the continuity, that the staff admired the positive atmosphere and noted the upward momentum since our arrival. I had not given her any sign whether we were leaving or staying.
After the initial shock, Raymond got up and we both walked outside. Three teachers came to chat with us, still in disbelief. “Is it something we did?” one asked bravely. We immediately answered no! What followed was an open, frank discussion of the many factors that we took into consideration as we were deliberating to add on another year or to leave. The school is a wonderful community. Living in Conakry is the challenge. Too bad the school is not located somewhere else in the world or even in another country in Africa. That discussion on the steps of the school opened the communication doors wide. I’ve noticed that since then my colleagues are more transparent; they are sharing their thoughts more and that is good. Last year, I often wondered what they were thinking and feeling and perhaps now our relationship will change. We were real, frank and transparent as we announced our difficult decision of leaving and they sensed our openness and truth. No one begged us to stay. They knew.
Nevertheless, this was indeed one life moment I will never forget. If we would have been wavering in our decision, we could have easily been swayed to stay because the group reaction was so strong. We are appreciated and we both feel fulfilled at our school. June 15 2012 will be a very sad time when we say our final good-bye. But, I also know that I will carry in my heart our little school forever and the people that I have grown to love also. That I know for sure.
