FIRST DAY BACK

(Written 1/17/14)

When the need to pee woke me up around 4:30am Thursday morning  I was disoriented for a few minutes trying to figure out where I was. As my foggy brain cleared, and the sense that I was somewhere west of Boston and had to catch a plane lifted, I realized I was in my own bed, wrapped up with Don in very nearly the same position we had fallen asleep in 5+ hours earlier. I was flooded with relief at not having missed the last leg of our journey home; actually being home after 17 days of the unfamiliar, felt sooooo good.

As much as I reveled in the warmth and sunshine of a climate so close to the equator, the humidity imposed limits on intensive cuddling. How delightful to be in my bed, nestled under a comforter against sheets free of sand and construction dust, entangled with a guy with whom I feel even closer to after a roller coaster ride of an adventure.

In just the few hours since arriving home I had already taken much pleasure in what I had previously taken for granted: multi-temperature water coming out of a faucet instead of non-heated water hauled from a well in a bucket and dispensed with the bottom half of a plastic water bottle. The upside of "African Showers" as our host termed them, was an increased intimacy between my partner and myself.  While we have showered and bathed together countless times here in the US, the acts of scooping water over each other and helping to rinse away dust and grime from all the nooks and crannies was a deeper level of interdependence and reverence. I noticed that I barely batted an eye when a faulty desk lamp didn't turn on -after living in the land of sporadic electricity and unreliable generators, a single malfunctioning lamp in a home full of lights didn't register as a problem.

I savored my morning coffee in my favorite ceramic mug and am still not sure if this new brand is THAT good or just a vast improvement over Nescafe crystals in a plastic drinking glass doused with hot water - time will tell!  While the bread baked on the island was delicious and the mornings we had freshly picked coconuts were quite the treat it was wonderful to have a breakfast of my choosing complete with protein.

I later walked to the post office to mail the postcards I was unable to mail in Guinea - the days we were in the city the post office was closed. The irony of carrying post cards across the Atlantic only to mail them from Boston makes me laugh.  En route, I passed the neighborhood pre—school during recess time and smiled thinking "these kids are just like the ones on Kassa - making up their own games, running and squealing, chasing each other around."  While on the island I was fortunate to have some play time each day with the children - drawing pictures, swimming, learning words in their Native Susu.  It wasn't always the same kids, just whomever happened to be wandering by and was curious enough to approach me. I reveled in finding ways to communicate with these youngsters with whom I don't share a common spoken language. Laughter, music and pictures are wonderful bridge builders.

Coming through my living room I tripped on the stack of djembes yet to be unpacked. We went to Guinea with four filled duffle bags and came home with one, the other 3 replaced by 6 drums. We had transported toys and school supplies for the island children. Having distributed those as well as our bedding, towels and most of our clothes, we were able to use our luggage allotment for custom made drums - true works of art! We haven't yet unpacked the drums and I am curious to see what the artist created – after watching us look at the drums in his shop and some brief discussion, he made drums that he felt matched us.  I am looking forward to seeing his interpretation of our energy.

I got teary at the supermarket in the produce aisle for in all our time away we had eaten cooked  green vegetables only once.  I probably bought more than I can eat before they go bad, but as a vegetarian who had felt deprived for 2 1/2 weeks, I was like a kid in a candy store, feeling gratitude for the bounty we have in this country.

This time in Conakry, Guinea, both on the mainland and the island of Kassa, was one of the most challenging trips of my life. I am glad to be back home. While I have tried to be responsive to emails and calls from friends and family, I find myself craving the quiet, still needing to sort through for myself all that I learned. I am surprised to find myself wondering what Alciny our drum teacher is doing - is he still repeating the inside jokes that evolved over our time together? And Nana - the 5 year old who was abandoned by her mother and was taken in by Daniel and his wife - is her anger continuing to result in fist fights with the other girls? I wanted to wrap her up in love while her tears flowed and tell her it wasn't her fault and that she didn't deserve it until she could believe it for herself, but that was my need in the moment - not hers.

Yup - more stories to write but I will close for now.