In Which I'm Still Pondering...

I've had people ask me over the last couple of days since returning home when I would be writing about the trip, and honestly, I'm still processing. Maybe it's the jet lag, the utter lack of sleep, or the reality of being home, but I have begun to finally feel the effects of this experience and they rush over me in waves. And not the sweet, relaxing, subdued, calming type waves. I'm talking tidal waves. The kind that completely rock your world and knock you senseless for a minute, leaving you clawing for breath. 

In light of this hypersensitive, extremely vulnerable state with which I'm currently grappling, I thought it might be best instead to share a glimpse into my personal journal entries from the trip while I work to compose a more literate, less shallow explanation of my trip experience. I've done so much brain dumping since getting home Monday afternoon, and I don't want to recklessly share that which I haven't properly pondered. My mantra right now is Luke 2:19: "But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart." 

And I'm still pondering... 

(Note: We arrived in-country on Sunday afternoon, spent the night at our hosts' house, and drove to the village late Monday afternoon. I arrived after dark, and, after spending a few rushed moments getting to know the village leader and his family, I was ushered to the house where the women would be staying. I hardly had enough time to get acclimated to the "squatty potty" (read: hole in the middle of the bathroom floor) before sleep completely overtook me, and I crashed hard on the floor in a room that was situated at the far end of the house. It had no windows, and the only light came from cracks and gaps between the walls and the ceiling. It wasn't until the next morning that I realized that there was actually a small florescent light bulb mounted to the middle of an exposed ceiling beam...)

Tuesday, 4 March 2014

I was jarred from sleep to the sound of roosters crowing and the Muslim call to prayer. It was like being in a movie. I slept in a room alone against an outer wall, so any time a car or motorbike drove by, the vapors permeated the thin space between me and the road outside. The rooms here are full of structural gaps and spiders, and all sorts of insects crawl the walls and underfoot, which, in turn, makes my skin crawl. Chickens and roosters roam free, giving a whole new meaning to the phrase "free range." 

I awoke for good in a frenzied panic at 4:15 a.m. absolutely certain that some unseen creature was intent upon sharing my bed, which at this juncture is merely a camping mat on the tile floor. I sprang from the bed, groped in the dark for my flashlight and, still shaking, made a hasty inspection of the floor. Nothing. Perhaps I'm paranoid... 

Today's plan is to spend the day preparing for the filter distribution ceremony, which takes place later tonight, and exploring one of the nearby beaches. As I arrived in the village well past dark yesterday, I expect to spend a bit of time getting my bearings. I get the feeling that it's going to be an interesting next several days...         

- J.