Sunday, August 7, 2011

And then there were four

As in, four full days left for me in Kongoussi, and it's finally starting to feel as though reality is lining up with my mind.

Had a big huge party for myself on Saturday night, with all of my neighborhood folk in attendance. Kids of course were the first to show up, before I got down there with the first wave of food, carried on the heads of my lovely wonderful girls from Sainte B's. Tiny legs and arms flailing everywhere in wild dance, with my lil' bro Mathurin (20 or 21 I believe) commanding the DJ post, a stereo and some pretty impressive speakers hooked up to a car battery. He, in fact, was my savior for the night, listening to me gripe about the awkward surprise arrival of some dude, reassuring me that other grown-ups were going to come (three hours later than programed, duh), organizing the food-doling, letting me know when relative Big Shots showed up, and informing me continuously in various ways that since he is the oldest brother presently in Kongoussi, it's his job to make sure everyone knows how much his family cares about me by making sure that everyone is having a good time.

We had a ridiculously huge amount of food and there were some ambitious youth who stayed and blared music (really, really loudly) until literally 7:30 in the morning. I had turned in around 1 for good, and don't know if I ever actually fell asleep. Things were roaring out there still, and I was honestly enjoying being inside and on my bed as people were laughing and dancing and as Mathurin continued to come in to heft more rice into huge bowls and to partition the millet beer as he saw fit (he had a pretty good time). At around 6:30 I came out to enjoy the cloudy early morning sky and to sit in my one remaining intact chair and listen to Red Red Wine (without the rap verse at the end, which makes the song a lot less exciting, if possible) for approximately the trillionth time. Mathu by then was the lone man standing, if you don't count the dude who calls me "mariAM!" continuously every time he sees me, who had left at some point and ventured back in the morning. I'll always remember Mathu sitting peacefully behind the stereo, turning to me with a smile from under sunglasses and a winter hat as I emerged into the daylight. And then we fed lots of children the leftover rice.

I absolutely loved preparing for this party. I loved giving people the opportunity to help me out, as silly as that might sound, and I loved leaning on the different relationships that I've formed. Sister Elisabeth, Robert, Andrea, Claudia and her family, my cuisinaire girls, all of the 15 or 20 girls from my neighborhood who woke me up the morning of with buckets of water on thier heads, anxiously awaiting my sleep to finish so they could get started helping me with things. (It was, of course, six in the morning and I was outside under my mosquito net when I awoke to them looking down on me.)


And now, the real goodbyes commence. I've started with the goodbye warnings...that is, everyone who needs to know I'm leaving on the 12th knows. Today I went around the market in an attempt to say real goodbyes to the market ladies, but they refused and told me to come back later in the week to REALLY say goodbye to them. (I wish my camera wasn't broken...the market is nonexistant in my collection of photos, and my good vegetable-selling friend from way back in the day is one whose face I never want to forget.) My plan is to make Wednesday my final In Town day. Then Thursday is my final At Home day. And then Friday morning...bye bye!

1 comment:

Jess said...

It's kind of unbelievable to me that you're not here anymore. Thank you for blazing the trail. Your blog posts have always made me smile, laugh, think, and somehow see my own service in a new light. So many good wishes for joy and happiness in your next adventure!