Before I left for The Gambia, I likened my emotions to waiting in line at a roller-coaster. It would be nice if my emotions now were like the end of a roller-coaster ride. Instead, I feel like I’m about to step into a swimming pool—on a day when it’s not excruciatingly hot, possibly even a little chilly. But: I really want to go swimming, because it’s been awhile and I’ve got a new pair of goggles and one of those inflatable sharks. But: even if I jump in and avoid that icky half-in, half-out of the water feeling, there’s still going to be a long uncomfortable moment of waiting to get used to the water. Which, I usually spend those moments standing around in the most awkward way possible, cowering from the splashes of the cannon-balling kid.
With less than three months remaining to my service, I am increasingly closer to become an absolute, total, complete mess. For example: the other day I went to buy a sandwich from Isatou Sardines and I wanted to cry as she told me no sardines, just corned beef and I replied, “corn beef is also tasty” and she began pointing out the finer qualities of the dish: “There’s corned beef, tomatoes, onions…” All I know about Isatou is her name is Isatou, but I’m going to miss her. For example: I get sudden attacks of memories from looking at the most mundane objects. Such as the floor. And when I’m not prematurely missing The Gambia, I’m missing America badly, in that way I haven’t missed America since those first months, two years ago.
Sigh.
No comments:
Post a Comment