Life in the Mountains

            29 Aout, 2012

There’s a part of me that thinks I should be sitting down more often to write down my thoughts. I keep sitting at this chair with far too many thoughts to unload because I’ve allowed vast amounts of time to pass since I last wrote.  And yet the only reason I have so much to put down is because I’m spending my time doing things other than writing. Who’s to judge that which is a better way to pass the hours, enjoying new experiences or reflecting and recording all that occurs.

            I cannot recall what was my frame of mind the last time I sat staring at this screen, writing to it and to all of you, so I’ll just jump into what the last week has been like for me. I’ve finally gotten a glimpse of my life for the next two years; I’ve finally seen Sola, the beautiful lush valley where I will grow my new world. The week at post was fantastic and I am finding it unimaginably difficult to think of how to dutifully encapsulate the experience.

            I arrived in the valley early in the evening last Saturday, just as the sun was making its bed on the west flank of the mountains. The canton chief and several movers-and-shakers of Sola greeted me with a small fête of Fanta, boxed wine and even some champagne! (FYI a canton is a classification of region somewhat equivalent to what we call a county in the US.) After the brief greeting I was introduced to my future home: a beautiful compound in which I have a living room, bedroom, bathroom and two terraces to embrace as my own.  The house is new, and due to this it is a little impersonal as of now, but have no fear, I will change that quickly.

Extra bonus: my compound has a bounty of fruit trees including four mango trees, two guava trees and a lemon tree in addition to the small field of corn, sorghum, okra and tomatoes that inhabits the center. Needless to say, I’m looking forward to mango season already.

I spent the week visiting several of the organizations currently working in my village, including the disponsaire (medical clinic), MUCAD (microfinance office), Affairs Social, and the lycee (somewhat equivalent to high school), CEG (somewhat equivalent to middle school) and two EPPs (somewhat equivalent to elementary school).  The lycee consists of a set of tables under an open air pavilion atop a small hill in the village next to Sola center- I’m not sure what the local opinion is of this set up, but its just what I dreamed of studying in when I was cramped up in the stifling white, windowless buildings that seem to characterize many schools stateside.

School isn’t in session currently; it’ll recommence in September. There were, however, some summer classes going on and I attended one with my neighbor M’fa, who was teaching some French classes. The teaching style here is certainly different than in the states. It’s much more direct and teachers are not hesitant to call students out- while these days I feel I have the confidence to persevere in such an intense environment, I think teenage me would have been terrified.

I spent my evenings with the people of my compound, including my landlord’s wife, Hermine, who is a student in Lome, her 9-month-old son and the 6 or 7 other kids that were always running around (some of whom are my landlord’s kids, not exactly sure on the relation of everyone though). M’fa would give us lessons in the local language and I was pushed to practice my French intensively. It’s hard to believe that I’m learning a new language through my second language (in which I’m nowhere near fluent).

People keep asking me if post visit was awkward, expecting me to share stories of language fumbles, loneliness and discontent. It goes without saying that my communication was in no way perfect, but that’s to be expected so I just laugh off my mistakes. There’s a strong joking culture here so I find it easy to twist everything with humor and people seem to embrace it. My landlord said he was impressed with how quickly I’m adapting. But in reality I don’t feel like I need to adapt at all; I’m just being myself and so far its working.

To be honest, I felt more at home in Sola than I have during my entire sojourn in the south. I can’t say if this feeling will continue as I come to develop a deeper understanding of my surroundings; perhaps these sensations are only an illusion of my initial honeymoon-esque level of joy. But I hope, and truly believe, that they will only strengthen with time.