Accepting a Simpler Life

Daft Punk is playing at my house!

Standing in the front door.

My bedroom...

And the bathroom!

These last few weeks have been busy! I journeyed halfway across Guinea and back, cleaned up midnight vomit (not my own), ate a pound of red dust on a taxi ride, and taught some Guinean children the Electric Slide. I befriended the Port Chief and one of his four wives; she taught me how to deep-fry a fish over the fire. My counterpart, Tounkara, begrudgingly tried the peanut butter and banana sandwich that I said would change his life (it didn’t). The fishermen taught me how to repair nets, I got multiple lessons about fish names, and Tounkara even thinks I’ll be able to find someone to help me prepare a goat. In Koba, I became accustomed to a lack of electricity, a lack of running water, and a constant barrage of attention from local children. It was everything I’d imagined and more.

An old tree that sits over the port.

But in the end I had to come back.

With a stop for Internet along the way!

After site visit, all the stories of everyone else’s perks and amenities started to flood in. Now’s when I have to be careful; when I let my guard down and let my thoughts wander, when I lost sight of my goals and dwell on my baser inclinations, I start to get jealous of what other people have. Jealousy is such an ugly and useless emotion, especially when it’s directed towards things that can’t be changed. I really couldn’t have asked for a better site. The whole time I was there, I kept discovering new places to explore and new people to meet, and had a running list of all the new projects and activities that I couldn’t wait to start. So why am I getting fussy over, for example, a lack of Internet? More and more I have to remind myself: “Though many had ventured farther and done so in finer style, my journey was my own.” My journey is still in progress, and it’s useless to draw comparisons to the opportunities and exploits of others. And besides, the best strategy to combat internal jealousy is to have such a rollicking good time of my own that everyone else starts seething with envy.

Food makes things bearable.

So that’s it. There may be low moments in the future, but I’ll only be reporting on the things that make you dance in your seat and wish to God that you’d had the clanging brass balls that I do; that you’d had the burning passion and reckless courage to do what I’ve done.

Stay chill, y'all