Home and Away

Can you be home and away at the same time? Yes! I feel at home in Gamboula and yet I feel away. This is the nature of life here. And I guess I am okay with that.

As a quick aside, this may be my only post until we return to Berberati on the 17th of February on our way home. We are the only ones out here in Gamboula as of tomorrow so we will not have any way to send email. Darren phones me regulary to remind me how many days I have left and to check on how we are. We leave for Bayanga tomorrow and will spend a week checking on the work there.

We returned home safe yesterday afternoon after three long but good days out in the village. However, we returned to the news that Phillipe, the assistant director of the nursing school, had just died. He has been sick for the past year and had just started TB meds last week. What a shock to the hospital. Our trip went well and it was nice to hang out with Chrysler and Eloi. Sosso was Sosso, the group there existing of just 3 members and they were of course scrambling to find a place for us to stay. We ended up at some kind of hotel place, but with no water and Eloi wanted us to bar ourselves into our room as we all felt a little less than 100
percent secure in the town.

Mbiali has grown some since we were last there, and they have managed to build a new school/church next to the pastor's house. He also built a passage (guest house) except it doesn't have any beds. He said he was expecting us to stay the night there but I am not sure what he was thinking since there was nothing to sleep on. We stayed in Bamba but with the concession that we attend church in Mbiali. The trees look great and the Jackfruits are starting to give the first male flowers. Our evening in Bamba was spent talking about the Baka in Mbiali, the church there and all sorts of things to do with development and how best to do it. The hardest thing was seeing that they really do suffer, the children's bellies are full of worms; they are malnourished but not knowing what to do about it. And also knowing that it would be very easy to start something amongst them and feel like you were doing good when in reality you were destroying the last bit of dignity they had left instead of building them up for the future. It was a very difficult time, but I am so thankful for Chrysler and Eloi and their advice.

As I write this I can hear the guys in the wood shop putting together Phillipe's coffin and mourning cries coming from the hospital. Death must be so unbearable for those it leaves behind.

We ate birthday cookies the night we were in Sosso, after we finished our supper at a local restaurant. Tomorrow we will celebrate with a good lunch of couscous, falafel and hummus before we pack up for another week on the road to Bayanga. As I travel I am learning more and more about the culture here, especially from Eloi, and am having to make choices regarding what role I will play in society here. So the question is, who am I? Thankfully, both he and Chrysler have resigned to calling me just plain old Angela.

Feasting on Goat

In all honesty I must admit that I have had a rocky start to my glorious trip back to Central Africa. After 5 nights without any sleep I began to think the strangest thoughts and was afraid that if I never slept again that I would literally go insane. Kim went down to the Berberati hospital to fetch me some Valium in a last ditch attempt at sleep and I was mentally preparing for an early return home. Amazingly, after a half night’s sleep in the village at Remy’s house, I started to feel a little more like myself and have slept every night since, more or less. After my fifth sleepless night I had Darren, Vicki and our hosts wondering what on earth was going on with me. I was hopelessly missing Darren (and still am) but now feel like I can make it to the end of our time here without leaving early.

Vicki is a great person to travel with. She is very easy going, loves people, and has lived in far more primitive conditions than we have here. She is also very forgiving so in my worst moments she shines and she is an incredible friend.

Monday we were treated to a great goat feast at the home of Remy in honour of my ‘home coming’. All the family from around Berberati came to greet us and they were so overjoyed by our presence it is hard to describe in words. I am sure that over the years many short-termers have come and gone with promises that they would be back to visit soon, that they would one day return to work here, but were never heard or seen from again. It was an honour to be so loved and respected by such a wonderful family.

Yesterday we walked around Berberati with Stephane and Riro, our friends from Gamboula and both terrific musicians. We were paraded around town like the golden monkeys from the zoo which isn’t so unusual when half the kids in town haven’t ever seen a white person before. Last night we had a pizza night with the ICDI folks and a lovely Italian nun from the local hospital in Berberati who has lived here 34 years. She is someone who ought to write a book. We even had 4 kinds of ice cream for dessert. You would hardly believe we were in Central Africa. We will be in for a shock when we get to Gamboula where we will be eating beans for the next 5 weeks. Aside from eating in the village, I will be a fully fledged vegetarian for the next 5 weeks.

As much as I am happy to be here, I am also absolutely, terribly missing Darren. It makes it hard to be objective about certain things, and easier to see other things. I don’t want to write it here because I will likely change my mind over the next few weeks.

Tomorrow we have a very busy day. We will be eating lunch with Elise and then will be attending a concert at the Catholic Cultural Centre, where our friends will be performing. Then we are the invited guests at their house for supper, which we hope will be rather speedy as we will be taking off for Gamboula that evening and I know there will be a welcoming party waiting for us down there. I know there will be lots to do there and I know time will go by quickly but when I see that we have 40 days here left, I am not sure if that is a small amount or a large amount at this point. I‘ll let you know when I’m down to 30.

Feasting on Fruit

Written January 5, 2008

As I write this letter Vicki and Paul are outside on the porch sampling two different Jackfruits they just picked off the CTC trees. It is 9:15pm and we just came back from pizza night with Paul and Sheryl and the kids. What a treat.

I have had terrible insomnia the last two nights and so haven’t actually had a nights sleep since Tuesday. I lay down to sleep and my heart rate goes up, my head starts spinning with all kinds of random thoughts and I count the hours on my watch until morning. I feel for anyone who lives like this all the time. So, after a quick trip downtown with Vicki to buy a few supplies, we ran into Sheryl at the store and came back to CTC with her cab and were invited for the pizza night. I am not sure why I can stay up all night worrying about stuff when God proves himself over and over that he is in control and has our best in mind.

Vicki had a nice surprise in the shower this morning. As she bent over to rinse her hair in the freezing cold water she saw a very giant centipede curled up in the corner of a very small shower. I heard her muffled shrieks and while she wrapped a towel around her self I came to the rescue with the dustpan and whisked it away and chucked it into the yard below. Welcome to Africa. Actually, Vicki is the hardiest soul I know so it is a joy to be here with her.

I still miss Darren like crazy, and that may be the source of my insomnia. I am praying for a good nights sleep tonight and maybe once we make it to more familiar territory in Berberati I will sleep like a baby.

Better go pack our bags and be on the road. We have an early start tomorrow and have to be at the airfield at 6:30 for our weigh in (no, not the biggest loser Africa Edition, but close). We will arrive in Berberati at 11:00 for my home coming and hopefully a chance to get on Skype with Darren.

This is not an easy trip. As much as I want to be here, I also long to be with Darren. I love being with Vicki so am praying that my double vision will not hinder my effectiveness in any way. This is a good lesson though. Next time, take Darren with you!

Yaounde

Vicki and I have arrived safe and sound in Yaounde. We were met by our good friend Benoit and ferried direct to the guesthouse where we are staying until Sunday. I really don't like Yaounde. It is a big city (which I am adverse to in the best of countries) and I look forward to getting to CAR as soon as possible. I admire the folks who live and work here. It would not be my first choice that is for sure.

I ventured out early this morning looking for sugar and milk and some phone credit. Had to give Darren a call. Hearing his reassuring voice gives me courage for the journey. Vicki is well and had a good nights sleep which is more than I can say for myself. I think I slept one hour. Can't wait for a siesta today. We have internet today and then again on Sunday.

My sango is coming back quickly as I have been visiting with Benoit and his family. Maybe tomorrow we will venture into town a little. Got to get my courage up for that.

Ange

On the Road to CAR-I am human after all

So leaving is hard. Really hard. I am in the Victoria Airport already having said good bye to Darren and I am still fighting back the tears. We have been together for 15 years and it doesn’t get any easier to be away from each other, it just gets harder. I admit that I was feeling mighty cocky the last 6 months as planning for this trip was underway. Oh, I’ll be fine, 7 weeks is nothing. At this moment I know I will be fine but it isn’t nothing. I was wrong and I’m sorry for ever thinking it was easy.

Someone once describe ‘leaving’ to me before. He said that when we have a strong relationship with someone it is as if the two had really joined and become one. Like two different yarns that were knit together. He said that this is what God intended when he said that the two should become one, that we are knit together. When you separate, even for a time, it means separating out the two and it causes tears in the fabric. It hurts. And it should. It was designed that way. I felt this way when I left my faithful friends in Gamboula and I feel this way now, leaving my most faithful friend and companion.

I am not sure why I am blogging these thoughts. Maybe just to remind you and myself that I am human, that we are supposed to feel and that if it didn’t hurt, something would be wrong. Really wrong.