27 february 2009
Its been a long month, its almost over and things are going well. I’ve changed my perspective a bit because:
-Dabi is alive and well and is de-wormed
-The bees are thirsty so they are less likely to notice me at the pump but I still don’t think that bees should be swarming me at the pump… I do believe that a project is on the horizon. Maybe if I can turn the area around the pump into a cement water-trough the bulls wont charge, the sheep will quit walking around with their tounges hanging down and the bees will take up sipping from the spillage at a spot other than directly beneath the handle.
-A sweet old woman died. Her skin was like blackened crepe paper. I loved holding her hand during conversations. Her eyes were still livid and bright. She told me I was the only white person she wasn’t afraid of. Except at night – of course she is afraid of me at night, “you glow, Oumou.”
-my huts are standing. That’s pretty big in these parts.
…………………………………..later that day……………………
Everything can fall apart, can go to pot, can dissipate and then there is nothing but me, stark white, plainly foreign and I am the stranger.
Fisher’s first day of preschool is in two days. I’m so proud of Ryan, although he slipped when referring to the teachers as friends that “we” have and was, in fact, to refereeing to me in that “we”. It sucked my heart out, it curdled in my belly. This verbage. This wordage. Only semantics… but indeed said.
I have to let it go.
All of it.
The fear of death, of life, of missing out, of being too small in a place that demanding – needing big things. Thoughts of Ryan fill every part of my days.
He is solid.
He is stable.
He and I have a “We” that no one else knows.
He is making everything better everywhere he can for us: myself, little Fish and himself.
He is so good.
I’m going to go sit with Dabi and talk in the way we do about dirt and poo and stars and baby goats and it will make it all ok. It always does. Who doesn’t want to sit and revel in a child’s ability to talk? a child’s ablity to laugh and smile and cry and breathe and hold my hand and lie on my belly and mock my voice and giggle when I tickle?
I love this life. Full of questions and answers and stars and time and love. Lots and lots of love.
I miss my parents and my brother so.
They will like Dabi, I know it.