Wednesday, February 23, 2011

"Your Are Your Memories of You"

I am standing at the end of a small wooden pier, next to a pitifully small beach. It is a typical Northwest day: gray, clouded over, drizzling. I am cold, and tired from biking, and waiting for my dad, who, unlike me, DOES have a key, to get into the house. As I look off at Lake Sammamish my thoughts slowly leave the present and travel back, back in time. I have been on this pier before, I think. When I was a kid. And now, I am here again. Time is dissolving, as memory and reality swirl together. My body may be here but my thoughts may often be elsewhere, perhaps distant. It is a funny habit of our mind's, this traveling. And yet I am glad for it, for memory lets the past live again, and again, and more, until it hurts too much and we must return to the present. Ah, idleness. A blessing and a curse.

Lately when I have too much time to think do these temporal distortions occur. Usually, not so far back in time (a few months) but far in place. Namely, to a small, poor, little-known West-African nation that took my friends and I in for 6 months and showed us another place and another life and gave us a chance to wonder. What would I be doing right now were I in my village, I ask myself. Did that all really happen? And then the images of friends appear in my mind, friends whom I may never see again. And yet, their memory lives on. I carry them with me. That is not enough but it is all, so I must be thankful. I am trying.

We flow in and out of time's stream, backwards and forwards, defying "rational" linear limits, in our search for emotional truths. Past happiness beckons to us and we float back, leisurely. If not careful, we may lose ourselves. For a time, perhaps, And really, how bad is it to be lost? I spent most of the last 6 months in Niger "lost" and it was one of the best things that I've gotten to experience. But, to all things a season. Onward, onward. To new horizons! New jungle underbrush to confuse me and test me and drag screaming to the surface the best that I have in me. I am thankful for all that I may experience, and how I will grow from it. And am grateful to be able to recognize this.

One path finished, but many others will be open. Just need to know where to look. And, from my time living and working in Niger, I think I am better able to do just that.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

The Post I Could Never Write in Niger





Hi friends. I am back in the U.S.A. right now, currently in the town I grew up in, Redmond, Washington. After we were evacuated from Niger (click here) I traveled a little, spending a week in Rome and then up to England, to visit my sister who is studying abroad there. But now I'm back, and from a computer at my mother's pristine, modern apartment I write this. Being back, so much sooner than I expected and in circumstances I never could have imagined is overwhelming me. Life is too easy here, I feel. There are too many goods, all of them so easily available. I keep converting prices of things I buy from dollars into CFA (Niger currency) and wondering at much even these small amounts could provide so much for the people of Niger. Meals at restaurants here could give food for my neighbor family for a week, or more. And, looking at my pictures, I am saddened, thinking of the friends and co-workers and kids I left behind.

Recently, I have been looking back at the posts from this blog I made in Niger, and am not content. I did not provide details on so much of my experience in Niger. Specifically, I didn't describe the outrageous poverty, sickness and overall desolation that we all confronted on a daily basis. So, let me just say: yes, hunger and disease and LACK were everywhere. The hospitals in my village were missing all sorts of basic supplies. The schools didn't have chalk, textbooks, desks, teachers, etc. Hunger was just a reality. And many of the Nigeriens I met were quite open about talking of these facts. But as to why I could not write it, I wonder if I just had to normalize these harsh facts in order not to have my spirit crushed as a daily occurrence. Or was my apparent acceptance of these painful realities a sort of heartlessness? Did I not care enough, and if not, why not? Does one just become numb to it all? These are some of the questions I have been asking of myself. The title of this blog entry refers to all that in Niger that, for whatever reasons, I couldn't write about. I'm trying.

Related to that, one of my best friends in Niger, a very sage man, often discussed with me these sorts of questions. We talked about our Peace Corps work in Niger, and wondered about its value. One of his ideas that he spoke of was what one could call "The Unity." By this, he means our connectedness with every object in the universe. Too often we think of ourselves as separate from our environment and everything we interact with, but this is wrong and unsatisfactory, according to him. And once we realize this connection, our lives change- we see things completely differently, and wish goodness for all we see. That's probably not the greatest paraphrase, but, meh. There's a great book on this: The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are, by Alan Watts. Check it out, if it doesn't sound too crazy! Also, Walt Whitman in "Song of Myself" has some great thoughts on this. Amazing poet!

A further challenge I am facing is how to apply what I learned while living in Niger to my life here. How does one live simply, frugally, when one is presented often with so much plenty? Supermarkets and bookstores I have visited make me feel a little crazy. I just want to buy it all, so much more than I need. Why? WHY WHY WHY? However, I am trying to stay busy. I am looking for some volunteer opportunities in the area. Also, it would be good to find ways for me to practice my French. And I kind of want to take a dance class. We shall see! For work, my boss at my old tutoring job has graciously offered me some part-time work tutoring kids in English, so there is something to do! Thank the Lord!

If you see me (and I hope to meet up! friends are so important) please have patience. Much has passed. Thank you. I am looking forward to seeing you, friends! Still no phone though, so shoot me an email: david DOT metting AT gmail DOT com

-David

P.S.- Here's some of my favorite pictures I took while in Niger