Today I went to the internet place and it wasn't a scary ordeal!

Today it’s rainy, which, if I were back home would be an absolutely horrible thing because it’s the end of September and the leaves are turning and the grey skies really put a damper on things.  But here it’s beautifully relaxing.  The sky, even though it’s covered with clouds and there’s no blue to be found anywhere, it’s really wonderful because it’s blocking the sun just enough to make it a not super-hot day.  Just a hot day.  I’ve been here three weeks and the heat still surprises me.  It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and it’s been a struggle adjusting to life where the sun shines bright and hot from dawn till dusk, and even after sunset, the heat still lingers.  I know I talk about it a lot, but the heat is a lot.  At times it’s oppressive, and we often hide in the house for a few hours every day after lunch and nap or read or just sit and talk, because it really is too hot to do anything.  But enough about the heat, because even though it’s constant, there’s a lot more going on also.

Yesterday we went to a local wood carving studio and the men at the studio showed us around and talked to us about their work, about the masks and figures they created, both “traditional” and “modern.”  I use these words in quotations because there are modern things about the traditional works and traditional things about the modern works, and these categories are not exclusive.  They are categories that the men themselves use, but just being there, in the midst of such a mélange of different cultures and different means of expression, it is hard to say that one thing is traditional and one thing is not.  The influences for these masks and sculptures are from local cultures and local expressions, but they are mostly produced for the tourist art market (they have a small boutique and they also sell to venders in Conakry and Bamako, as well as other cities nearby).  This mix of “tradition” and “modern” has challenged my perceptions of these terms normally presented as opposite, because the work these men do blends the lines and challenges the separateness of these two categories, as well as the connotations that comes with each of them.  So many aspects of life here have been this way, and while it’s a constant struggle to embrace both simultaneously without trying to fit things into my preconceived notions of how thins “should” be, it’s been a blessing to be able to see how beautifully people here mixed these colors, have woven so many aspects of life together, that the duality of “tradition” and “modern” gets lost in everything else. 

I am extremely thankful for my time here thus far, and I’ve only been here for three weeks.  I’ve been challenged in so many ways, and with moving in to my host family next Monday, there are more challenges to come.  Sometimes I look back on the path that lead me to here and I can’t believe everything happened as it was supposed to (even with a few bumps and bruises along the way), and that I’m now here in West Africa.  Part of me is still in disbelief, shocked at the simple fact that I am here, and overwhelmed by the love and support that has brought me to this place.  I feel like my journey here is still in its beginning, and every moment something new arrives.  Through all the struggles and all the triumphs, I go to sleep exhausted every night, and wake up in the morning to the rising sun, ready or not, more attuned them ever to the rhythms of the earth and the rhythms within me. It’s not always easy, but every moment is worth it.