Congo · Congostyle · Family

being home

Even the hellish travel experience is no damper on how nice it is to be home. They paved the roads of Pointe-Noire which was a major shocker to me. Most of the streets were dirt roads before, and lots of them were dirt roads covered in thick layers of sand–we’re by the ocean.

There are even gas stations WITH CONVENIENCE STORES. That kind of freaked me out a little.

Mom and dad are great, as usual. Nic is having a good time, getting funny tee shirts made and placing orders for various crafty things to bring back. The dog is very cute and very tiny. I already taught him how to sit. I’ve managed to sleep soundly and dream, and remember my dreams, something that I’ve never been able to do outside of Congo. With the exception of Trinidad…I don’t remember my dreams in America, and when I do, they’re usually extremely boring.

The school looks great, all the classrooms are painted in different colors, some  lemon  yellow, some pistacchio green. There is a mural in the cafeteria that is of Tintin and Milou “at the International School of The Stars”, which rocks.

Traces of the fire are gone for good, which is so great.

I had my first saka-saka and grilled fish, oseille and fanta juice last night. Foooooooood. And now I really feel like I’m home. Everything is so normal. Home is so far for me and so hard to get to, I forget what it really feels like to be at home, but now that I’m here, struggling on this ancient keyboard, waiting for the infinitesimal delay between the key stroke and the letter appearing on the taped up screen, being very careful not to jiggle the entirely taped up computer tower lest I lose my internet connection–that just happened a half hour ago–now I remember what it’s like. Everything here is normal, even the crazy stuff that happens that make your har rise up on your neck in anger or your toes curl up in your shoes.

I saw a guy yesterday paint rims with silver paint out of a tin-can that used to contain food. He was giving rims a fresh coat of paint.

The taxi that drove us around Brazzaville remembered my dad by name because he gave him a ride a couple of years ago.

Everything is awesome. Having a great time. Happy as a clam. I think I get to teach a couple of classes to the elementary school kids next week. I’m thinking of reading The Little Prince to them or getting them to do some arts and crafts.

5 thoughts on “being home

  1. This is quite amazing, to be connected to another continent.
    I would be freaked out too to see gas stations and convenience store. The fish sounded so good, and you do sound as happy as a clam. Nothing like being home.
    Say hi to Nic for me. Enjoy. Rest.

    Love,

    Mona

  2. thanks for staying connected; soo interesting to read your stuff; hi to your mom and dad and nicolas; haven’t seen the pictures yet; but girl you go!

  3. I love to hear of your experiences. I think it’s telling that you not only dream but that there is depth and interest to those dreams. I know u keep reminding me how I should be looking for what is good and intersting about LA but I can’t help thinking that the dream connection is indicative of a lack of a soul of the place that is your new home. Although I have never been connected to a place and don’t really have a place I call home in that spiritual, intangible sense, I do think that place becomes an intergral part of who we are

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