waiting...

(copied from the paper i duddled on this morning)
I think someone could write an entire dissertation on the time spent on "waiting" in Africa (possibly an entire Ph.D topic there). Last night I spent a good 60-90 minutes waiting on my friend Grace to show up, then another 2 hrs waiting on Jessica. This morning I spent a good 30 minutes waiting on the computer lab to open up and now that I am here, I am waiting for the "programme" to get up and running. I was told it will be another 2 hrs before it's working and was asked if I could return later. I asked if I could just wait here, as I have nowhere to go or be. "Pas du probleme"--- oh good.

I think my favorte "waiting" story in Africa has to be the one of my brother Kyle and I trying to catch a bush-taxi out of my village on a bright and early Saturday morning. Thank goodness for the saturday marche in Nymassilla or we would have never found a ride. Two mini-vans passed thru village on the main road that morning in a matter of 3 1/2-4hrs. The first had a little room on top of the van, but we chanced it and waited for the next one. When the door to the second one opened, there were around 24/25 people in there, chickens tied by their feet under the seats and any and all goods to be sold at the marche; that was inside. On top of the van were three live goats, large bags of coal, maize, etc--- all strapped down under a net to be sold at the marche. Kyle looked at me and said "there's no room," in which I replied" oh sure there is. Let's go," and in we piled.

I was stuck between two marche mama's who greeted me with a smile and an "allafia" which is "hello" in the local language of Kabye there. Kyle was stuck next to the sliding door which continued to fall-off, so he and the apprentice attempted to hold it on during the 50-60 minute rough, bumpy and dusty ride to the main road. Did I mention that the apprentice basically sat on Kyle's lap as well? Once we arrived to the main road, we stretched our legs, attempted to rid ourselves of the thick red dust/dirt we had accumulated during the 1st part of our journey, then jumped back into the van and headed south to Atakpame--- where working phone lines awaited us. Kyle wanted to call Lori and I gave Mom and Dad a ring.

Reflecting back on this story, I love it for numerous reasons. I love it because this was one of the many stories Kyle and I share from this two-week venture in Togo. While his visit was a little rough from time to time, I wouldn't change our time shared there for the world, not a minute of it. I love it because it now enables me to look at the situation from both ends--- Kyle's possible perspective and the average villager's possible perspective. While the mini-van situation might sound "out of this world" to possibly many of us, this is simply a way to get around for the villager traveling to and fro in many parts of Africa. Nothing more, nothing less. Heck at times the bush-taxi could be considerred the "posh" way to travel as it may be out of budget for many (I believe it cost us a total of just under $6 for the whole journey down to Atakpame). Many would have just walked the 21km int he scalding heat of the morning--- maybe biked it if that option was available. But to me, the bush-taxi had become the norm; squashed in like sardines, I didn't think twice about it. Just pulled out my book and went with it. That was just how it was. But for Kyle it was new, something different than what he was used to and it was good for me to remember that. Just as it is good for me to remember that it would be odd or different for any of my village friends to jump in a car and take a 5-hr trip with only three people in the vehicle.

It's just a difference in lifestyles--- in livelihoods--- which I think is good to remember from time to time. Here "en Afrique" you might have to wait longer than you wish, you might have to walk 21km for food, you will probably sweat A LOT, you'll get dirty, you may have only the essentials, you will hand wask your clothes (and if you wash like I do, they'll never be truly clean again), you may work from sun-up to sundown and not make an income but a living for yourself and family, you may have lost both parents to two separare wars only to wake-up and find yourself in another country--- not quite sure how you arrived there, but that is life for a number of people here. Does that make it any less of a livelihood than what we consider to be one back home in the West? I don't know, I am not the one with the answers--- you'd have to ask someone who lives here. I am just fortunate enough to see the differences in lifestyles--- in livelihoods--- both of which I have come to appreciate a great deal and love. There is so much to learn from both sides of the spectrum here, so much to be taken away. I guess it's just a matter of allowing yourself to be open to both--- not judging one as superior to the other, but rather maybe just different and that both of made up of positives and negatives. Like I said though, I don't have the answers--- I am still just learning.

And so I'll continue to wait and learn some more...