I think I’m finally ready to write my final post, which is good, because I leave for the airport in nine hours. And I wish I hadn’t calculated the number of remaining hours just now, because a jolt of panic just ran through me.
There were lots of stories left to write, that I guess at this point will remain unwritten. Also lots of adventures left to have, that I guess at this point will remain un-had.
I never did find the Swedish Newspaper Warehouse.
Or go to church.
Or see the Wassu Stone Circles.
Or photograph the Janjanbureh dragon.
I contemplated writing a post about what it felt like to leave my village, but realized it could be summarized like this:
Now I’m feeling more like this:
And what’s annoying is, everyone keeps asking how I’m feeling and while it’s nice to be cared about, it’s frustrating that I don’t have an honest answer less confusing than “I feel like Picasso’s Family of Saltimbanques.” So I’ve just been telling lies.
People have also been asking what’s the first thing I’m going to do in America, which is silly, because obviously the first thing I’m going to do in America is walk up to that man behind the glass and hand him my passport. I hope he says, “Welcome home” like he did when I got back from my semester in Hong Kong, because even though he says it to everyone, it still felt nice.
And some people like to ask about my Future and I sort of wave my hand and mumble something about the circus and change the subject.
But I guess the note I would like to conclude on is this:
When I said goodbye to the imam, part of our conversation went as follows:
Me: “Tomorrow I am leaving; I am going home to America.”
The Imam: “I’m happy.”
And I thought about it some, while all my dearest friends reminded me that after I left Fatoto the people would be sad, they would cry, and their hearts would not be happy.
And I thought about it some, while I sat in the car that was taking me away, leaving home to go home. And I realized, with tears streaming down my face, that I’m happy too. So happy.
I’m happy I joined the Peace Corps. And ended up in The Gambia. And had so many adventures. But most of all, more than anything, I’m happy I got to share two years of my life with the people I did–the people in my village, the students at my school, my fellow volunteers. That sounds like the start to a speech, sorry, and I also think I've over-used the word "happy." But if it were a speech, here's what I'd tell them:
"You will not believe how glad I am that I have met you."
I wish I’d thought of that, but it’s something I once read on a magnet. It’s true, though. Saying goodbye is never fun, two years pass too quickly, but I will always be glad to have met you, Gambia. It will be enough to make me happy all my life.
[Oh, I nearly forgot: www.sonjasblogg.wordpress.com is the address to my new blog. There is exactly one post at the moment, but no, it's not the default one. The straightforward title is so I can stop creating a new blog every time I have a new adventure. The extra 'g' is to make it less boring and more Swedish.]
