Let It Flow
For the past three months, I've been traveling throughout the country quite a bit and it doesn't look as though it will let up until the end of April.
For the times that I'm in my village, which ranges from one week to two weeks at a time, I've been busily awaiting the arrival of my family. I finally received an additional bed/couch-like piece of furniture from the village's bamboo furniture maker. Unfortunately, it took me 7 months to receive it and lots of badgering, threats, and various individuals stalking the furniture maker's whereabouts. I've also recently purchased a chair (no more sitting on the floor mat!) and a nice desk/table. It finally feels like a home and at times, my retreat (although I still really like the silk cottonwood tree in the bush that I run to (literally) when I need a hiatus...but the tree doesn't fit in my house).
At nights, I've been heading to bed earlier than usual so I can come inside and paint a portion of one of my sitting room's walls that did not have blue paint on it (I ran out of it when I was painting last summer). Each morning, members of my family (old and young) have been peering through my door, seeing the sketch transform into a collision of colors, patterns, and designs. The painting (and room) is still incomplete, but I'm hoping to have the real family help me with filling in the blank spots of the walls, making candle holders, and sewing up some pillowcases I've made. My host family is so infatuated with this painting of mine (it's not even that good as I'm out of practice) that my 37 year old host brother wants me to paint a painting/mural in his family's house. I think I might try to paint a picture of Fatty Kunda...but that means, I'd have to paint all 65 members of the family. Maybe I'll just paint a landscape picture for them...Birds of The Gambia sounds good to me.
---
So it's been a while since I've posted and don't think I've forgotten about you all...I certainly haven't. Your emails, cards, letters, packages, and thoughts still accompany me throughout the days.
My family arrives soon, but it doesn't seem as though it's real. My host family seems to be just as excited about my real family's arrival as my real family is. I'm sure my family's time here will be quite the adventure and I've urged them to 'roll with it' with a sense of humor as that is how one gets through the not so normal things here. I've told my host family and Gambian friends that I will cry when I see my parents and my sister, and every time I'm told the same thing...'Why would you cry? You'll make them think life is not sweet here!' and I always respond 'I'll cry because I'm so happy.' The surprised Gambian then says, 'You don't cry when you're happy!' And I said, 'No...YOU don't...but I most certainly do.'
Being in the Gambia has certainly helped me to uncover or reveal things about myself that weren't always evident, but being here hasn't changed what makes me, ME. So I say...
Let the tears f l o w...
Safe travels Mom, Dad, and Susan..
For the times that I'm in my village, which ranges from one week to two weeks at a time, I've been busily awaiting the arrival of my family. I finally received an additional bed/couch-like piece of furniture from the village's bamboo furniture maker. Unfortunately, it took me 7 months to receive it and lots of badgering, threats, and various individuals stalking the furniture maker's whereabouts. I've also recently purchased a chair (no more sitting on the floor mat!) and a nice desk/table. It finally feels like a home and at times, my retreat (although I still really like the silk cottonwood tree in the bush that I run to (literally) when I need a hiatus...but the tree doesn't fit in my house).
At nights, I've been heading to bed earlier than usual so I can come inside and paint a portion of one of my sitting room's walls that did not have blue paint on it (I ran out of it when I was painting last summer). Each morning, members of my family (old and young) have been peering through my door, seeing the sketch transform into a collision of colors, patterns, and designs. The painting (and room) is still incomplete, but I'm hoping to have the real family help me with filling in the blank spots of the walls, making candle holders, and sewing up some pillowcases I've made. My host family is so infatuated with this painting of mine (it's not even that good as I'm out of practice) that my 37 year old host brother wants me to paint a painting/mural in his family's house. I think I might try to paint a picture of Fatty Kunda...but that means, I'd have to paint all 65 members of the family. Maybe I'll just paint a landscape picture for them...Birds of The Gambia sounds good to me.
---
So it's been a while since I've posted and don't think I've forgotten about you all...I certainly haven't. Your emails, cards, letters, packages, and thoughts still accompany me throughout the days.
My family arrives soon, but it doesn't seem as though it's real. My host family seems to be just as excited about my real family's arrival as my real family is. I'm sure my family's time here will be quite the adventure and I've urged them to 'roll with it' with a sense of humor as that is how one gets through the not so normal things here. I've told my host family and Gambian friends that I will cry when I see my parents and my sister, and every time I'm told the same thing...'Why would you cry? You'll make them think life is not sweet here!' and I always respond 'I'll cry because I'm so happy.' The surprised Gambian then says, 'You don't cry when you're happy!' And I said, 'No...YOU don't...but I most certainly do.'
Being in the Gambia has certainly helped me to uncover or reveal things about myself that weren't always evident, but being here hasn't changed what makes me, ME. So I say...
Let the tears f l o w...
Safe travels Mom, Dad, and Susan..
posted by Stephanie at 11:12 AM
1 comments
