Three letters and a rant

If you are smart you know not to say the three letter word h-o-t to me.

My family and friends call me, and you know a conversation isn't complete without a weather report. "It's hot" they say. I just say, "Oh yeah?" as I sit on my porch baking in the sun, restraining to itch my heat rash that has consumed me for the better part of three weeks, and I am covered in baby powder, which seems to be the only relieve I can find. I look like Powder from that 90s movie, but I don't care.

Yeah, I know, what did I expect when I moved to Africa. But think of it this way, it's like having a kid; everyone tells you its painful and you see it on movies, but you do it anyways and then when it is painful you want to rip the guy who did this to you's head off. So I fully am aware I came here voluntarily, knowing it would be hot, but there is no way to prepare for how hot it is, and yes I wouldn't mind ripping something. I have to cope though, which is why trees, frequent and habitual cat naps, and showers are good friends of mine.

Around 12 or 1 I eat lunch everyday, and just this act alone can send me into the transpiration equivalent of running a marathon in August. I don't even notice the sweat sometimes, until I feel a drop descending my calf like someone has flicked water on me suddenly. Typically after lunch, I lay under the giant tree just outside my concession. I want to hug this tree, because if there is even the slightest wind it catches it, showering me with coolness that only air-conditioning could beat.

I sleep a lot. I do the bare minimum to prepare my lesson plans and even then it is usually under my tree in between one of my naps. I don't ever get into a constant sleep as there is always something to wake me up--drums, children, music, students, crazy old man fascinated by the white girl who speaks local language even if it is just a handful of words. Sometimes getting to sleep is more of a challenge than staying a sleep. I have developed a strategy, in which I simply fan myself to sleep.

I shower a lot. Before the real heat set in I usually showered twice a day, sometimes three. Now anytime I move for five minutes I run to the shower. I am also happy to say I have a real shower now, which was installed right before I broke my hand, which was also when the heat started. I love showers. The only thing better would be my own personal baby pool, which I would most surely fill up every evening and sit in all the next day.

When it rained for the first time, I don't think I have ever loved rain more. The mere presences of a few droplets makes me smile with glee. Everyday now since the rain started I ask my Maman's son, Philippe if today it's going to rain. Like I can tell the weather at my parents house in Maryland, he knows the weather here. He knows I hate the heat, I am constantly saying it's going to kill me, and I think he wants to be able to tell me it is going to rain. So even if he looks up and its obvious it isn't going to rain, he humors me and thinks for a few seconds before letting me down. The heat shall prevail.

What I Have Become

It’s Saturday night. It is the first time in over a month I am able to sleep comfortably indoors and that there is electricity so I can have the simple joy of a fan. I have spent the last couple hours grading papers.

I was walking home today after my French lesson and as I reached down to adjust my bag, I was reminded of the beads under my skirt that are tied around my waist. The wind was blowing my skirt against my skin, as I strode, thinking how I was walking less like I used to and how one day I will win the ongoing battle of keeping my feet clean. Then it occurred to me; what have I become?

Sometimes the most exhausting part of my life as a volunteer is dealing with the life I used to have and comparing that to where I am now. The first day we were in Benin one of the staff members told us to be wary about keeping one foot in the States and one foot in Benin. If we were going to be volunteers we needed to be committed one hundred percent to Benin.

First, I can’t say there have been many things I have not committed to one hundred percent and second, I would vehemently argue with anyone who dares to challenge my commitment as a volunteer, and yet I constantly feel I am playing this game of hopscotch. I have not figured out the best way to explain this.

It would be selfish for me to believe nothing was going to change with me gone, and I knew that, but I never anticipated how the changes would make me feel. And it isn’t the changes alone, it is going on facebook and seeing everyone living a life I can’t relate to, but used to relate to, and will go back to. It isn’t that I look down on anyone and to some degree I am envious I don’t have that, but I also can’t imagine doing anything else and being anywhere else but here. In some ways I feel like I am getting left behind, while also being the one going ahead.