Thursday, September 12, 2013

The Beginning of the End

9 September 2013

Things are wrapping up. Everything that took so long to create, is taking so little time to come to conclusion. At the beginning, I had so much free time to spend shooting the breeze, hopping from meeting to meeting in hopes of creating something from nothing, attempting to converse in a rather paltry patchwork of grammatically incorrect French, and trying day after day to create a livable house for myself. It was stressful trying to figure out what to do with myself day in and day out because it felt inappropriate to take me-time when I hadn't spent any time doing anything constructive for the community. The comparison between then and now is dramatic. Yet, even now when I'm in such a different situation than I was two years ago, I find myself again with more free time than I know what to do with; efficiency and productivity have turned out to be a double-edged sword now that I know I can't start anything new.

The projects I'd spent so long trying to devise take practically no effort to step away from now since they stand on their own already. Things like the market that used to be such an exhausting effort have become a simple, almost boring routine. I don't have to explain to people what I do here anymore, because I can quite succintly state "I've lived and worked here for two years, but I'm moving home soon." I'm not struggling to create friendships anymore, instead, I'm often struggling to avoid making them since I know that I'm leaving here in only a few months time. No more meetings struggling to create something or to meet somebody important. My house is comfortable; the months of sitting eating alone in my furniture-less living room are a laughable memory. And so now, here I am, sitting on the squeaky bamboo bed in my living room, thinking about what the next chapter has to hold.

For anyone that's reading this from the "other side," this next bit may not hold much meaning--it's hard to find value in the common-place items in life sometimes. But, as my motorcycle-riding, marriage proposal-denying lifestyle in Batouri has lost it's flash and glamour, bizarre aspects of the American lifestyle have become unsuspecting glittering gems in my future. In a way I've never craved it before, I'm looking forward to predictability, to order, to a schedule, and to obligations. I'm ready to have free access to Public Libraries and all the glories they behold. I'm thrilled to have coffee shops and hiking trails in my life again, and to know that whenever something goes wrong with my house, there's always some technician (pest exterminator/plumber/electrician, etc.) I can call and reliably expect to show up and fix my problem. I look forward to winter: cold weather, flannel pajama pants, boots, snow-topped trees, and sweaters. I'm excited to live in a country again where house pets are seen as a positive, and public urination as a negative. I'm looking forward to being able to wake up in the morning and look at the weather report so that I can plan my day accordingly. Most of all? Having clothes that aren't stretched out two sizes too big from repeated handwashing.

I remember hearing during training that, at some point near the end, we'd finally feel competent in both cultures. It's been a long time coming, but I think I'm finally there. I know what to do, I know what's expected of me, and I know how things work. While it never seemed like it at the beginning, I realize just how big of an accomplishment it's been to make it through two whole years. Two years of feeding myself, communicating in a language I didn't understand, finding clothing, staying reasonably healthy (incha'allah); doing all that and staying happy, however, is a whole different story...a story of flourishing.

With these last two months, it's sure that there's a lot of change and challenges still ahead. It's difficult watching this coming to an end and knowing that there will be someone else right after me who'll know this place in a whole different way than I have, but ultimately, that's ideal because stagnancy holds no hope of positive development. And, more and more, I'm growing okay with the fact that I won't be able to see this. Batouri can change and grow, but I'm going to be content hearing about it from behind a computer screen from the comfort of my couch. After all...


Seulement les montagnes ne se crossent pas, les hommes se crossent toujours.