At first I wasn’t sure I would like it.
Africa, that is.
It was hot and humid and when the power went off (a regular occurrence) the fans went off and I could feel every inch of me glisten in the heat. It was very different than Southeast Asia and I felt like I was betraying Thailand, a land and a people I love so much. There were no rocky crags to climb or mountains in the distance and oh how my constantly sticky skin missed the dryness of Colorado. And I was tired and burned out and this laid-back African pace was difficult to adjust to after ten months of nonstop chaos.
But I’ve quickly come to appreciate even the briefest surges of power that allows me to charge my computer and cool my face. I’ve met the Ghanaian “Three Musketeers” trio of my co-workers Leo, Collins, and Stanley who never fail to provide entertainment and encouragement. I’ve been directed to a brightly painted room and a desk next to two windows overlooking the expansive City of Refuge campus, where I can see the kids playing soccer at recess and hear the teachers’ bells ring when it’s time for class. I’ve visited an oceanside shanty and met the beautiful Millicent, Monica, Janet, Joanna, and Alice, some of the artisans I will be working with weekly.
The kids. Oh, the kids. I’m here to work primarily with the women in that oceanside shanty but I can’t help but make a little time each week to hold hands, take pictures, and read books about happy worms and hungry caterpillars. These kids are overcoming such odds – some have been rescued from trafficking, some from abusive homes, and others walk miles just to attend this school that promises a sound education.
So as I’m sitting at that desk in this big empty room, as the afternoon breeze drifts through the windows and the low-hanging clouds promise more rain, as the fan spins and the internet runs, as laughter floats from the school to the east and roosters crow from the coop down the dirt road, as I (almost) forgot the chaos that is life back in America, I am happy.
This is Africa.