Journal Entry 12.28.07

TOO MUCH OF NOT ENOUGH, the journals and thoughts of a man not accustomed to having them.

I should have known when I couldn’t find it on a map as they handed out our assignments and locations of service for the next two years. The 24 of us rushed ourselves to a map. I remember feeling lethargic that afternoon and made a slow attempt to see my name on that piece of paper hung above the water cooler at Tendeba, less enthusiastic to find out where exactly Malikunda was and when I couldn’t find it on the map and the other volunteers there and LCHS had little information about it, slightly I began to worry. Where was I going? What was I doing? Training had been a very humbling but coddled experience. As long as we were with other Americans, everything felt very normal still. Even throughout site visit, I knew I’d only be there for a few days, then back to Kombo and the fighting 24 and the idea of safety and normalcy and comfort. As long as we weren’t there, then it wasn’t really real yet, and we could all still believe in the dream of Peace Corps, instead of the reality. The reality being something, three weeks in, I still can’t quite comprehend.

After Bakary arrived during site visit I felt a load come off my shoulders, as if seeing a Gambian, who I could speak English to, was just as good as seeing an American, I could speak to him my thoughts that were more complicated that “I am sitting” “I am reading”. I had no idea how badly I want to express myself until the option is wholly stripped away. The feeling of leaving a place, even temporarily is, it seems, symmetrical to arriving. The switching off of lights echoed by the switching on, or here with the emotional weight of coming transforms into the blissful relief of walking away. As I just spent Christmas further up country with fellow newbies coming back, even with Amber accompanying me, there’s a loneliness type feeling especially today now that she went back to site, that I can only describe as sad. Not having the time yet to make strong connections in the village, and having one too many bad tastes in my mouth, I can’t honestly say that I am excited to be back, as I was in training village or of even leaving the states.

The job essentially starts now, today. Right now. No more holidays or jaunts or visitors or visits until February when hopefully I will be able to go to the softball tournament in Dakar for all West Africa PCV’s who’d wish to attend. And I would. But today as Amber got onto the Gele-gele, in a hurry, unexpectedly as we had waited three hours and were resolving our thoughts, preparing for the idea that she would just have to spend one more night, prolonging the inevitable, I guess. But no, she jumped on at the last minute gele and we said our goodbyes and an emptiness sure did pour over me. A 30 minute bike ride home from the main highway and I step inside my abode and wonder again as I did the day I couldn’t find Malikunda on a map and still can’t-- what the hell am I doing here? Moreover, what the hell am I GOING to do here?