The Space Between

This month has been a lot about me coming to terms with being back in Africa, and being comfortable in that space. Much of the adjustment is second nature at this point. The fishbowl stares when I walk down the street; fumbling through local language; tolerating the heat and unforgiving sun; meeting new people and seeking harmony in beliefs and experience; navigating public transportation. And being mindful of my expectations, leading to the ever-forgiving lessons of: Patience. Tolerance. Acceptance. Nothing in Africa happens quickly. Nothing. I should know better by now, I’m fully aware of this… but I have learned that just by acknowledging the difficulties of a situation, or even predicting potential pitfalls doesn’t make working through them any easier.

I have never consumed so much tea. I’m not even entirely convinced that I like tea, but it takes up roughly 45 minutes of my seemingly endless nine hour work day. As a dear friend noted this week, this period of adjustment feels a bit like swimming through mud. I sleep ridiculous amounts. Nap at lunch, nap after work, in bed by 9:30pm. I make lists. Compulsive, overly-detailed lists. Small tasks that will make me feel remotely better about my daily existence. Many days these efforts prove fruitless, others are slightly more successful. And I start over again the next day. I have no other choice. 1. Shave head: today, this took roughly two hours for an otherwise effortless ten minute activity. Solution: take off the guard and avoid sun at all costs until any hair grows back. Awesome. 2. Check email: uh, no comment. 3. Laundry: while the guesthouse maintains a washing machine, its functionality is quite the mystery. Some days, the cycle finishes in a reasonable 45 minutes. Other days, three-and-a-half hours later and it’s still stuck in spin cycle. 4. Finish 750 page book (that you started yesterday). 5. Nap. 6. Eat Ramen noodles. 7. Revamp failed exercise routine. 8. Drink another cup of tea. 9. Pluck eyebrows. 10. Paint fingernails. 11. Watch six hours of Glee. 12. Take a shower. These are the things that are currently consuming my schedule. It’s discouraging at best but I just keep telling myself its temporary. It’s the adjustment period.

Three weeks after arriving at work, I am still patiently awaiting permanent housing, driving lessons, Swahili classes, finance tutorials, and basically any remotely useful activity that doesn’t make me feel like I’m getting fatter by the mere act of sitting at my desk. I love my colleagues. I am inspired by the work that we do. Honestly. But right now I just don’t feel like an asset, like I’m contributing, like I’m being utilized in any way that makes me feel valued and excited to show up to work every day. And that’s the hard part…the waiting. I know sometime very soon, I’ll turn that corner and suddenly be swamped with project proposals, site visits, and meetings. And I very much anticipate that time. It’s the space between that’s the killer. The big downer. The self-doubter. Because if I’m not here for the work, what the hell am I doing here? All the sacrifice wouldn’t be worth the trouble. And all those seeds of doubt would blossom into trees. And then where would I be?