Monday, March 16, 2009

when homesickness starts to kick butt

Yeah, it's starting to kick in unfortunately. That small achy feeling of wanting to be surrounded by all things familiar. granted I can still feel at home in the beautiful toan of Nyamina, but I can say I truly miss hanging out with the old pals from home. I called Jimmy the other day and got off the phone thinking...wow...eight months down...only 18 months left! Ive dabbled in the idea of staying, but I know my time here with Peqce Corps is not close to done.

To fight the unwelcomed feelings of loneliness and homesickness I visit the place that brings tranquility. I wanted to take pictures but unfortunately all of my batteries are dead.

This place? The banks of the Niger River. It has dried up greatly; Currently, my favorite thing to do is sit on the banks of the river. My first real memorable encounter was when my friend soccer star Bamoussa asked me to walk with him. We walked along the river. It was still rainy season so the water reached the banks of where I currently sit when I visit. The walk was taken in silence, but not the awkward silence that you could imagine. All of a sudden we approached the large tree that is near Basineli's house. He asks me if I know the name of the tree. I take a few guesses, but no where even close. After he told me, there was no way for me to forget. everyday I walk by this tree. its called in bambara Bana. The night before he left, Bqmoussa, Amahfah, and I drank ea and talked very late into the night. as we decided to head to bed the boys walked me to my house. Bamoussa was by my side while Amahfah lagged behind. Bamoussa whispers to me "sisan, an te nyogon ye." We aren't together anymore. My heart sank. I knew he was going to leave for Bamako and he wouldn't be back for awhile but it was just starting to hi. As I unlocked my door Amahfah starts to say the same thing. I told him to stop, wished Bamoussa some blessings. Tears were ready to run doan my face, but I didn't want the boys to see

Another memorable river moment took place recently. One morning I woke up at 5am. Unable to put myself back to sleep I threw on some pants, grabbed my CD player and my dog Sidibe and started running towards the soccer field where I used to watch Bamoussa and the boys play soccer every evening. I run past the mango trees whiwh were flowering and reach the bank which now has a 10-15 foot jump to the real banks of the river. I qqt in darkness, the sun had barely started to rise. I hear Moussa's friend in the distance and watch him and some other guys load sand onto their wagons. I'm close enough to hear their laughs but far enough that I cannot make out what they are saying. I watch as slowly one by one the fisherman wade through water to get to their boats. One boat has filled with water and two young men work to scoop the water out. As they hop in their boats they slowly paddle their way into the shadows. As the sun slowly starts to rise people start to notice me. This is my cue to return home. Soon peace will be interrupted by the sounds of women pounding millet, childre getting ready before they go to school, and the friendly greetings of fellow neighbors.

Another moment. I was sitting at my friend Bakalou's house sitting on the banks. It is market day, but soon everyone will hop into the boats to head back to their respective villages;*. I look towards the left and think of how the view triggers memories of the St Louis River, fishing with dad. Just a few days later on a Sunday, I'm sitting on the same edge overlooking the river as mom calls me. She tells me that Burt passed away. I was not ready to go home. I needed to sit on that edge qnd think about home.

The most recent moment I ventured with amahfah to the banks of the river on the road to Koulimana. Hot season is starting to begin and the haet was really starting to show it self; We found relief under a tree and the wind off of the river provided us with some comfort. As the last fisherman leaves we make our way down to the rivers edge. Sidibe can't avoid the urge to take a dip.

The Niger has definitely helped me cope with homesickness and is definitely helping me find myself.