For the first time in years, landing in Pointe-Noire this time, felt like coming home to stay. I knew almost from the moment I landed that I would pack up my life in Los Angeles and return to live here. Sometimes, when you’ve been in the desert long enough, that oasis blurring in the distance isn’t a mirage, but an actual promise of fresh water to quench your thirst.
I spent the last three years running up against disappointment and rejection in my job search and my efforts in trying to making it work in California. I was fighting for a place in a putrefying job market and trying to stay upbeat in a depressed social climate. I’m no sociologist, but continued lack of positive outcomes don’t encourage growth. Anyway. I don’t mind if people say I gave up. I was among the unaccounted for statistics of those who stopped looking for work.
From the moment I landed, I started to see where I could fit in here. Volunteering in a start-up Children’s Museum project, helping the music and art teachers at my parent’s school redesign their curriculum, participate in weekend English conversation classes, spend time training staff in computer skills. It was clear very quickly that there was no shortage of projects.
I got excited…