Two months in Africa: Living in a new reality
Maite Uranga
Life in Africa
I woke up last night in my mosquito net sleeping on the roof when I realized how rapidly my definition of normal and daily reality changed in just two months.
My three host brothers and one sister sleep next to me and periodically re-adjust throughout the night. Any night a rain or dust storm may send me into a sleepy frenzy of taking down my mosquito net, rolling up my mat, finding my shoes, my water bottle, my flashlight and somehow maneuvering everything down steep stairs with a 180-degree turn. Unless, of course, it is a light rain, in which case I attempt to sleep through it. I am acutely aware of the moon's cycle because the fuller it gets the brighter the night becomes.
The call to the mosque at 4:45 a.m. and the goats at 6 a.m. are my daily alarm clock. Animals are everywhere — goats, lizards, birds, very large insects and chickens — all just outside the imagined protection of my thinner-than-paper, transparent mosquito net. This is my nightly reality.
Daytime brings a whole new set of adventures. It is only possible to shepherd a goat out of my room or ride on a donkey cart so many times before it moves through the cycle of being scary, funny and unusual to finally normal.
The letters I write home are less and less about these sorts of things and more about my personal life or various emotions. People generally write letters about things that are at least somewhat exciting or humorous and my life here feels more like routine than adventure.
In my mosquito net on the roof I thought back to a letter my college roommate wrote me. She wrote something about meeting some friends, going out to a restaurant and then dancing. She went into detail about the people, the dancing, the drinking, the music and other debauchery. Then at the end she wrote "but I am sure this all seems so trivial to you as you sit in your hut in Africa."
My reaction was the same as I am sure her reaction is when she reads stories about my days and nights. It was amazement.
At this point I love reading about the boring and mundane details about America. Bars are so far out of my realm of understanding that I loved her story. Even if she simply wrote "I drove a car today. I took a shower. I went to McDonald's. I e-mailed. I used a phone. I ate with a fork," I would be amazed.
At this point the concept of a grocery store is overwhelming to me. The boutiques in Mauritania sell about 25 different products and it satisfies almost all my needs. It would be very difficult for me at this point to go to a grocery store and try to figure out what I wanted, but this is her reality. She is astonished by my average day and I by hers.
I have spent approximately two months in Africa and I already have no idea what is on the radio or in the news. Perhaps Britney Spears wrote another meaningful song. Maybe Survivor is in Antarctica or maybe I am on Survivor. I know more about the politics of Senegal, Morocco and Mauritania than I know about the politics in the states. Is George having a fling with Monica? My brother starts med school in about six days. I do not know if he is nervous, excited, scared or even if he is still going. Letters take between two weeks and never to get here. News and pop culture takes about the same amount of time. I will not know what I missed, in some cases, for two years.
Do not get me wrong; sometimes that is a good thing. I am not bombarded daily with whatever the media thinks is the hot story of the week and I get away from the American and Western slanted media. The truly important things do get to me eventually.
My patience is increasing and my pace of life is decreasing. I very much enjoy the lack of instant gratification e-mail provides. I think, partly as a result, my life "crises" are no longer so severe. I know when I write a letter to friends or family they will not get it for at least 13 days and a response back takes approximately two and a half weeks. When I e-mailed I would get upset if I did not hear back for a day, which did not really give me time to think situations through on my own.
I feel like I finally have time to think in an unaccustomed daily reality that is almost normal some days.
Maite Uranga graduated from Notre Dame in 2000 as an anthropology and government major. She is currently a Peace Corps volunteer in the Islamic Republic of Mauritania.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
All Viewpoint Stories for Wednesday, September 26, 2001
