Baskets, Butchers, and Beer
I managed to paparazzi Yana in her big green sweater.
I’ve managed to cry less the past two days, so I’d call that progress. Yesterday was a work day at school so K and I went to Ganta so I could bank and she could shop for gifts. On the way there we realized the bank would be overflowing since it was the end of the month so she went to the ATM and spotted me some money until we can get to Monrovia. We went to the market to shop for small girl dresses and ended up with only some bracelets.
A semi-cold drink at Beer Garden then we headed out of town to the leprosy and TB rehab center. It was about a 30 minute walk back down the Sanniquellie road. The sun was strong and the air cloudy with dust. As soon as we turned down the drive, however, massive flowering trees shaded the road and tiny brick houses clustered around. It was a welcome change from the bustling Ganta main street. Matt met us there and showed us to the shop. One of the neighbors sent for the key and an old white nun came to greet us.
The shop was amazing! K and I spent $50US but could hardly carry out everything we took. I got a giant patchwork star made out of different different lapas. I plan to hang it wherever will be my new ‘happy place.’ We each took several baskets and almost all the figurines. We carried everything back to town and had jolof rice at Justina’s. It was only mediocre. I had a giant piece of skin and only unidentifiable meat, but I was hungry so it was good enough. (No I didn’t eat those pieces.)
K and I went to the Total so I could buy small things then Chris and Matt met us at the taxi stand. They bought the entire back seat so we could leave quicker but K and I squeezed up front anyway. After all, we’d each only paid for one seat. Truth be told, I’m going to miss taxi rides with her so much. Sunday we’ll charter a car to Monrovia so that trip from Ganta was probably the last time we’ll sit on top of each other in the dusty heat. No pape or ol’ ma will ever take her place. And I wouldn’t want them to.
When we got home I went back into town to buy small things in the market and visit the butcher. I’ve never bought meat before because our UN friends always handle that part. But I knew they’d want me to so I sucked it up. Of course the man with the key for the freezer had just gone on an errand so I went back to the club to have a drink. Half an hour later he’d returned and Ahmed cut me a really nice piece. Success. I cleaned the meat and K picked out one of the soup mixes from America. It turned out great, but just as it finished I suddenly lost my appetite.
Everything is changing. My god, this sucks.
Everything will be ok. I know that. But how long will it be before it’s great again? Too long, I fear. I’m going on alone. Oh destiny, where are you taking me? Please be kind.
“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.” ~William Shakespeare
Five O’Clock Somewhere
Yesterday I stood in class less than one hour after one of my best friends left Sanniquellie forever. I felt numb and lost. But as I scrawled binomials on the board I heard a calm authoritative voice. “That can’t be me,” I shook my head. But of course it was. Some part of me was still grounded, functioning, and strong.
An hour later I watched Krista tell 11th grade she was leaving. Beer after school never tasted so good.
The Small Things
Paper watches are quite the fad in Sanniquellie. I usually open shop after school.
"RB, make my wa'sh?" Grandpa and Daniel show off their fine designs.
The 12th graders finished their practice WAEC this morning. A group of 20 or 30 walked past the window while I was in 11B. We hadn’t started class yet so I went to the window and yelled, “Hurray! Hurray!” They cheered and burst whooping through the gate and into my classroom. “Thank you! Thank you!” they yelled, grinning. “Everything you taught us came!”
Heart overflowing. Oh, I needed this.
Hug me! Now!
I held it together this morning until Prince Flomo came to see K and told her not to cry. It was like my body went, “Oh! I forgot we were doing that.” I walked out on the porch with tears streaming down my face. “I’m sad,” I announced to the kids. “Hug me.” They stopped and stared. “Hug me!” I repeated. Nothing. “Grandpa, come here.” He obeyed and I grabbed him. He put his arms around my knees bashfully. “Yada, your turn.” Then Nya, Godgift, and Yana.
So many emotions are swirling through my mind I can hardly think of anything. Creating a week’s worth of lesson plans for 11th grade took every scrap of my concentration. I’m so glad to be going to Monrovia Sunday. I need to get away. I’ve been thinking that for months (I haven’t been south of Ganta since IST in late November). It’s too bad it had to happen this way, though. Oh god, it’s too bad.
Today was K’s last day at school so she said her goodbyes and I helped her take a million pictures. Yesterday I watched her break the news to 11B with tears in her eyes and mine. Morris slumped over and put his head in his lap. Several students brushed away tears of their own. “Is this really happening?!” all their faces said. I couldn’t have agreed more.
But as hard as it was and is and will be it strengthened my resolve to stick it out. These kids are counting on me. They are why I came here. They are the reason any of this happened. I never thought I’d fall in love in Africa. I never imagined life could be this good.
Tonight we went to Pelle’s office and watched Tangled, Krista’s favorite movie and something she’s been talking about since August. “This is my favorite scene of any Disney movie ever,” she said. The undiscovered princess sat in the boat with the unlikely hero waiting for the lanterns. “I’m scared,” she says. “I’ve been dreaming about this my whole life. What if it isn’t what I expect? Then again, what if it is? Then what?” The hero pauses to think, “Then you get to move on to a new dream.”
Three years ago I sat in my windowless office, slumped in my chair, staring at the photo I hung opposite my desk to look like a window. If it had been a real window I would have climbed, jumped, repelled out of it. “I just want to be happy,” I’d think, rubbing my forehead and biting my lip. “This can’t be what was meant for my life. There has been a mistake.”
I sit here in Liberia having found it. Happiness exists, but you must trust and believe your heart. It and it alone knows the truth path. My heart glows and smiles. Change is hard, but what doesn’t challenge you doesn’t change you. What is the next dream? I’m not sure yet, but I move forward with confidence it’s something good. Thank you to everyone who made this dream reality. It was the combined effort of three continents.
“Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue, and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.” E.Y. Harburg
What doesn’t challenge you…
I started crying last night and it continues even now. The stress of everything is finally getting to me.
I have nothing left.
I can’t say any one thing is wrong. I’m just suddenly washed over with despair. I want to stop and sit like a stubborn mule. That’s it. I’m done. Just try to make me do something more. This is the closest I’ve been to early terminating since coming to Sanniquellie.
Thankfully tomorrow is another new day and even though it will be almost exactly like the ones before it’ll be another fresh start. And I’ll be back at school with Festus and George and together we will all climb just a little higher.
What doesn’t challenge you doesn’t change you.
“Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.” Anne Frank
My Dear Moderator!
On March 13th my quizzers had their first match. Three of the four local high schools met in a quizzing championship. It was our first competition since August. We went directly after school (about 4:00) and finally left around 9:00 when the generator cut off.
The guys were so nervous! As soon as I walked in the door the captain, George, grabbed me and pulled me on stage. “We need you to be our representative.” Ohhhkaaay. I’m used to things like that around here so I took my seat next to the moderator. THEN they handed me the microphone. I had no idea what they wanted me to say!! So I stared open mouthed for about fifteen second then Prince, one of my kids, mouthed “say your name!”
Tryin’. Tryin’.
We got started and my kids jumped to an early lead. I was thrilled! Then the fighting started… and continued almost the whole night. My team was getting cheated small with them acknowledging the other team when the question should have been ours, deducting points from us for no real reason, being overly technical with answers, etc. George got flustered and started demanding things be righted. “Moderator, actually, I have a qualm with that…” (Our match ended up taking *two* hours)
He was usually right, but the team was getting vexed and I knew their heads were no longer in the game. At the half I tried to calm them down “you’re smarter than they are. Just keep focusing on the questions. You know this!” And I knew they did. We’ve been practicing three hours a week for months and some of the questions were either verbatim from questions I wrote or from my class.
We lost the first match 60 to 150 and the other team, one of the “rich” private schools, raced around the room screaming and cheering. Not classy. My men were obviously devastated. I tried to comfort them, but they just told me to sit down and went outside to eat plantain chips.
We sat out the next match and finally around 8:00 took the stage again. …after St. Mary’s defeated for a second time and both teams ran screaming from the hall. I stood on the stage with my guys and about five other students from our school (no one else could afford to pay $40LD, about fifty cents, to enter). It didn’t look like there would even be a competition. The other school didn’t even want to bother competing against us. I was MAD.
We waited about fifteen minutes and my team told me to go home. “Ms. RB, go home and rest. You don’t have to stay with us.” I just laughed. “If you’re here I’m here.” A few minutes later the other team reappeared and we got under way. There was only an hour of fuel left so they skipped introductions (one of the funniest parts) and we ran straight to the questions. The other team was cheating. All their teachers had left and a student was acting as their representative. He was caught mouthing answers to his team. My men erupted, as they should. A different student was brought up and we switched sides. But the damage was done. My boys jumped up from their seats and left the stage. Whoa whoa whoa! I chased them. “Gentlemen, I beg! You are playing with dignity and can always hold your head’s up high. You are smarter than they are. You know this! Come back and show them what you can do!” They shook their heads but turned around the resumed their seats.
We were winning. How could we forfeit?
But again, the damage was done. Baptist won some points on technicalities then we were neck and neck until the end, losing by a scant five points. As Baptist cheered and slapped each other’s heads my men left the stage in silence. “We’ve disappointed you, Ms. RB. We’ve damaged your name.”
I couldn’t hold back the laughter.
“Are you kidding me??? I could not be more proud of you in this moment. You played an honest game. You worked *so* hard. You are the real brains in this room. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. I see you everyday so I should know.”
They smiled weakly and surrounded me we walked into the darkness. “Ms. Rb! Ms. Rb!” an unfamiliar voice yelled as a student from one of the rival schools ran up. “Thank you for our brothers. You are making them very strong. We all fear them in mathematics!” I could feel my boys smile in the dark. “It is all them,” I replied. “All I do is point the way.” This continued as we walked back to town and I hoped they were soaking it up. They deserved to be the ones celebrating, but instead they settled for walking their white teacher home.
“Go!” I tried to tell them. “I am able!” But they only laughed and insisted they must carry me through the darkness (walk me home). They kept apologizing and saying it was all for nothing and I kept trying to reassure them. “What doesn’t challenge you doesn’t change you, remember?” George just laughed. “Surely.”
We compete against Gbarnga next Friday. I hope for their sake we win.
They deserve it.
Just Keep Moving Forward
The past few weeks have been exhausting. My long days/weeks are catching up to me and I just don’t feel like I have much left to give. But the WAEC is just over one month away. It feels like mile 13 of a half marathon, when you’ve spent more than you thought you had only to turn a corner and see a hill. You know the finish line is at the top, but every fiber of your body begs you to stop.
“Just keep moving forward,” I used to chant. “You are stronger than you believe. You can do anything if you believe.” And I can. And they can. But do they believe?
…giving me hard time
My head has been killing me for days, one small spot just above my right eye. I’m just waiting for something to pop out of my forehead Zeus and Athena style. Bending over 200 exams the past few days, crunching 4th period grades, has been torture. I finally broke down when we got home and took some antibiotics. When I called Bill two weeks ago he told me the dust was just giving me hard time and I should drink more water. I’m sure it’s infected, though… or there’s a dirt clod. Something bad is going on. I know that much. Eeeeh, dry season.
But do you love me?
I’m about to go to school to teach my nineteenth and final hour this week. I’m drained. Between study class, quizzing, and grading I’m watching my free hours fly away. But the nods, the smiles, the laughs keep me going. I haven’t graded any exams yet, but I can tell we’re making progress, even if it’s small small. As I finished a review class yesterday after study class Othello grinned and pounded on his desk, “Good, Ms. RB! Good! You must stay with us for long. We will be missing you if you go to America!” I replied that I wasn’t going anywhere until they passed their national exams and they broke out in applause.
An hour later I was passing out sheets for the 4th period test and Angeline beamed at me. “You really love us, Ms. RB, don’t you? You love the 12th graders!” I winked at her, “But do you love me?” She laughed, “Let’s see the test.”
They have been a pain for months, from the moment I stepped into their classroom, but she is right. I do love them. I know almost all 85 by name and I no longer dread our time together. Their graduation will be a proud, emotional, day for all of us. The next two months will be a sprint to the finish. What did I used to shout at Wilson’s? Keep moving forward! Just 10% more effort! How bad to you want it?
Claim your prize.
“We find no real satisfaction or happiness in life without obstacles to conquer and goals to achieve”
~ Maxwell Maltz
life magnanimous 