New Year Notes

"The emotions, the plans, the feelings, the objectives I had seen swirled like floodwater through the city of facts I was slowly erecting on the grave of my other self, and though an act is an act, in the best Steinian tradition, each wave of interpretation that broke upon me shifted the position of one or more things I had thought safely anchored, and by this brought about an alteration of the whole, to the extent that all of life seemed almost a shifting interplay of shadow about some never to be attained truth.  Still, I could not deny that I knew more now than I had several years earlier, that I was closer to the heart of matters than I had been before, that the entire action in which I had been caught up seemed to be sweeping toward some final resolution.  And what did I want?  A chance to find out what was right and a chance to act on it?  I laughed.  Who is ever granted the first, let alone the second of these?  A workable approximation of the truth, then.  That would be enough..."

The above is taken from a novel by Roger Zelazny, and sort of introduces the train of my thoughts for this new year, 2009.  The passage of clock time is often incomprehensible to me, but reflection is a regular pastime and not out of the way of my everyday activities.  So I've been in Mauritania over half a year.  What's changed?  What hasn't?

I am one of the things that has changed.  I'm not sure Africa is any different for my presence, thus far anyway.  But my experience has affected me.  There are shallow changes: I love Coca Cola and straight shots of espresso.  Slightly deeper changes: a different regard for hygiene (let's just say that there are levels) and a closer relationship with my digestive system (I call it an enemy closer than a brother, in kinder moods I refer to it as a treacherous ally).  And my French is now sufficient to converse, and to deal with service personnel and people harassing me.  Although I wouldn't say I was to the point of being able to particularly recommend myself to strangers.

It has been over half a year since I've seen my family, slept in a bed, had a hot shower, and been really clean (although I got to do the last three while I was in Nouakchott for vacation and work).  A little story for you: while I was there, I went to a real grocery store.  I can't really describe how that felt, although I can say it probably isn't what you'd imagine.  I could barely stand to be there.  There were too many items arranged in tidy rows, the place was too clean and well lit.  I felt an urge toward a visceral reaction, perhaps a scream, perhaps even throwing up.  

Moments of that sort cause me to realize I hardly know myself anymore.  I hope my readers understand this is not a negative thing.  Re-read the quote at the start.  Yes, I feel unmoored from who I was, but who I am and who I am becoming are closer to the truth.  A "workable approximation of the truth", anyway.  :)

Living in a village where everyone is preoccupied with day-to-day survival and trying to facilitate development there is a lot like repeatedly smacking one's head against a cement brick wall.  Fun, no.  Pleasant?  Not often.  Challenging, yes.  Am I learning anything out here?  Absolutely.  I wonder where this next year will take me.  Keep writing and sending love.  I've got some really amazing projects in the works.  I'll write some of it up next time I'm in town.  All my love!