Life in Africa is much harder – for everyone. And that’s true essentially no matter where you go. It might be different if I were a rich person here, and could pay for a nice house, and a working shower, and a generator. While I was in Peace Corps, I lived exactly like a local would. It was easier to become a member of my community because people saw that I lived just like them, without any extras. It would be insensitive and wrong to claim that I lived exactly like them, because when I was sick, I could call a doctor, and when there was political violence, I could fly away. But regarding daily life – I lived just like any person did.
It makes life a lot simpler and calmer, and that’s a big reason why I like being in Africa so much. I like sitting and just talking to someone for hours with no interruption of a cell phone or the television. I like eating food off the side of the road that someone has made in front of me. I like being around so much nature without any concrete and metal buildings blocking the view.
There are moments, however, that I don’t like living in Africa. I have been living in Freetown for the past 5 days (I guess it will be 7 days by the time I post this online). For the most part, I have loved being back. It’s been hot and sticky, and I’ve been living out of a suitcase, but I’ve been happy.
Everyone comes to a breaking point however, and mine came yesterday morning. I had been dealing with a growing frustration of being in a city, rather than a village. And the heat, while expected, was starting to wear on me. Yesterday morning I woke up after sleeping very little. There was no electricity all night, meaning I couldn’t even put on a fan. I opened the windows to let some air in, but the only thing that was coming in was hot humid air, and lot of mosquitoes. I woke up feeling disgusting from sweating all night, and I had a sore throat, and was covered in mosquito bites.
I decided that a bath would be the best thing for me, so I went into the “shower room,” which is just a small room with tiling. When it rains, the wells and water reserves fill up, and you can get running water sometimes. Unfortunately for me, it hadn’t rained in awhile. The owner of the guesthouse had placed a bucket of water outside the shower room for people to use, but there wasn’t much left of it, and I could see worms at the bottom.
Deciding NOT to use the bucket water, I turned on the sink and saw that a very small trickle of water was coming out. I filled up a cup with water and splashed it on myself. I started to fill the cup up again. It literally took about 3 minutes for the cup to fill up with water. I resolved myself to just do the best I could with the water I had. About halfway through, covered in soap, the water just stopped. I had been standing waiting for the cup to fill up, looking at the mosquito bites on my arm, wondering whether I was going to get malaria, when the water stopped coming out of the faucet. And my meltdown began. I was hot, simultaneously disgusting and covered with sweat, and feeling stressed and sick. My only thoughts: WHAT AM I DOING HERE!? How did I put myself in this situation AGAIN!? I could be back in the states, taking a nice warm shower, in my air-conditioned house, with television and internet and fruity pebbles waiting for me when I got out. Instead, I’m in Freetown, with no water, no way to stop the constant heat, no fruity pebbles or milk or even a clean bowl. WHY AM I HERE!??????????
Luckily, I got over it. After managing to finish my bucket bath, I got dressed, hoped in a poda poda to get to work, and spent the day learning about the laws of Sierra Leone, and why Timap was so desperately needed in this country. After work, the interns and I had an amazing dinner, made on the side of the road. I took another, more effective, cold bucket bath, and finally felt a little bit clean. Before bed, the other interns and I sat on the balcony of our guesthouse, reading books and relaxing.
And I think that’s the reason I keep coming back. Despite the moments, or hours, or even days when I am in a bad mood and wishing for nothing but to be back in the U.S., the meaningfulness and peacefulness of this life keeps pulling me back. There’s a peace and comfort that comes with being here, that makes up for the mosquitoes and lack of water.
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