The many faces of Guinee

It’s Saturday morning and I’m off with Bivan for a special treat….my treat to myself: a massage! It’s not just any massage though, it is a massage with Julia. I discovered Julia last May after asking around for a good massage therapist. She lives downtown in a run down apartment building on the 2^nd floor. Julia is Chinese and is learning English and French on the internet, by herself. She mixes both languages and at times must put in some Chinese because I haven’t got the foggiest idea what she is speaking. I love Julia. She is a healer of the body and the heart. Her aura is so positive and caring. One can’t help but feel good when around her. So I make it a point to see Julia as often as I can.

On my way to Julia’s, I watch life unfold Guinee-style. Since the car’s air conditioner broke down last fall, rolling down the windows is the only option left for air circulation. Having the window down makes me closer to people walking by and also to sellers who extend their arms begging me to buy their wares….anything from phone cards, to toilet paper to lemons. The bright yellow lemons bouncing in a small orange bag looked tempting but I declined. Traffic was inching along as we approached the bridge under construction. An old man cried out ”madame, madame.” I pretended not to hear but he persisted. I wish I could not understand French sometimes. He walked slowly towards our car, weary looking in a long black robe. He looked regal to me with his little round hat placed just so on his head. He folded his hands in prayer and said again ”madame, madame”. He was praying for, begging for money. I just shook my head no and turned the other way.

I wish I did not have to deal with this every day…the constant begging from children, adults and handicapped people. I don’t want to be hassled by people selling stuff or people begging for money. I’ve had enough of this. It just breaks my heart to have to say no or just look the other way. When I see the handicapped people rolling in old dilapidated wheel chairs or some walking with crutches and still others sliding on their bottoms legless, walking with their hands, my stomach churns. I can’t possibly GIVE to everyone that begs so I don’t. I still feel like a knife goes through my heart though. Why do I feel so guilty? To help numb my guilt, I raise the car window. It also does help dissipate the red dust from rolling in and does keep the sellers from sticking their hands and arms in the car. But mostly rolling up the car window helps me stay at an emotional distance from all the needy people on the street.

Traffic started moving again. Whew…I begin to feel the first waves of relief. I can breathe a little easier now and my guilt slowly dissipates. Moving along with the traffic means that beggars and sellers will not be able to “bug me” as we are actually driving now and not stopped dead in traffic. Good , this is better I think to myself. As we get closer to down town, the rackety Saturday hussle and bussle reaches me. I try to look with new eyes as I watch scenes of what has become so familiar to me. I choose to look with fresh eyes watching the brightly coloured dressed women sell dried fish. The large aluminum platters overflow with dried fish, their tails sticking in the air as if they have been caught doing a somersault. Funny I thought!

As we drove on, hundreds of women were sitting on small stools surrounded by baskets of fruits and vegetables. They lined the road as we were passing by. I love fresh vegetables and fruits but even more so when it is sold on the street or in markets. Something about being outdoors makes me feel like I am closer to the source where this juicy, fresh produce was born and harvested. Produce season is at its peak right now with sunny coloured mangos, papayas, pineapples, grapefruits and oranges. The bananas are available year round so I neglect to talk about these sweet, tasty nuggets. They are sitting in baskets sold in bunches of 15 -18, still attached to the huge stem, waiting to be bought by a hungry customer. A small girl is huddled in fetal position on the side of the road, fast asleep. I gasp! Just like that I think, just like that huddled in a ball where anyone could walk on her. She looks to be 6-7 years old and amidst the noise, dirt and commotion, she sleeps. I am in awe, amazed at the capacity of human beings to live in difficult situations. This is another face of Guinee.

After Julia’s massage, we drive back home and I decide to take Ismael’s picture in the carport of our apartment building. He is also one of the many faces of Guinee as he is a guard and helper of our building. When he smiles, his entire face lights up. When my girlfriends visited, back in August, they thought Ismael should be on the cover of Men’s Health; he is a real hunk and also very charming. So here’s to you girls and to all my blog followers…one of the many faces of Guinee…enjoy! ….by the way, he looks much better in person!

It takes a village.....

I’ve been living alone in Conakry for almost one week now as Raymond is in Vancouver and then on to San Francisco to meet and hopefully hire two new teachers. We will be losing our two American teachers and we need to replace them.  It is not easy to recruit teachers, let alone competent teachers who are interested and willing to come to Africa, and  not just Africa but Conakry. There is the “hardship posting” aspect of  Conakry also that  unnerves people.  What exactly is a hardship posting?  It is a location where expatriates will not find all the amenities that they are used to in their home countries, their support systems and their points of reference for every day living. You know the usual Starbucks, Walmarts, Canadian Tire, malls, cinemas and corner street diners. Life in developing countries is just not developed in the same way. What is a developing country anyways? We used to call countries like Guinee, poor countries, third world or underdeveloped countries. Now this is politically incorrect. We use the words “a developing nation or country”.

I’ve pondered these words lately….a developing country. Developing in what exactly? Is Guinee that underdeveloped? Guinee is struggling with economics, poverty, a failing school system, health and malnutrition of its population. Failing infrastructure  with adequate water supply, electricity ,very bad roads with huge potholes and a non existent sewage system are other important issues that this country faces. Extremely slow internet seems unimportant when people’s basic needs are not met, but that is another issue. I guess this is a pretty long list. So I look at this now and I wonder in which way is this country developing?  There is a huge bridge with several exits being built right now and this is giving employment to hundreds of Guineans and the progress of this ambitious project is remarkable. On a weekly basis, we see changes. It is very encouraging. More NGO’s are entering the country, apartment buildings are rising and changing the skyline of Conakry and several flights a week  from Air France are bringing in more expats to work in the mining sector. There is a housing shortage at the moment.  So it is a developing country when we consider the physical aspects. But what about emotional and social aspects? Is this country still developing?

My personal experience and observations of the last 2 years have taught me this. It takes a village to raise a child. It is an old saying which may have lost its charm but nowhere else does it make more sense than here in Africa. People take care of kids here. At church today, I was watching a little 2 year old child crying as his mother stepped outside with the hollering baby sibling in her arms. Right away, a man sitting beside the boy  sat closer to  him and patted him on the head, then a woman sitting in front turned around and picked up the boy and put him on her lap. The boy stopped crying immediately. It is not the first time that I have witnessed this. It is with adults as well; there is an understanding that you are all brothers and sisters here. People’s cars break down (and they break down very often because the cars are ratty and rusty) and others run out to push the vehicle off the road. Brotherhood seems very developed here. Compassion and regards for others seems very developed here. A woman I barely know invited me to her wedding next week. This is a celebration and people are invited to celebrate.

Expressing joy, sorrow and anger are also very developed. Dancing around the kitchen was our cleaning lady’s way to show her gratitude when we gave her a pay increase…her joy spilled over and she danced for joy literally!  When kids bump themselves at school, the teachers cuddle them instantly and say I’m sorry over and over until the child stops crying. When we gave the maintenance crew a bonus at Christmas, they bowed down to us. I get goose bumps as I write this. No one has ever bowed down to me. There is something of humanity touching humanity that is rich here.  Not afraid of showing compassion to your fellow man or woman is obvious here. There is something very tender that perhaps we need to develop in our western culture. These past 2 years, I feel I have been raised by a village, raised in a way that I have become more sensitive to the needs of others, more understanding of poverty, less judgmental towards a culture that is new to me and more transparent to the needs of those who suffer. It has taken a very big village to raise me, to transform me and for this I am grateful. Grateful for the experience of  awareness….