Friday, December 19, 2008

Hey Jealousy

Let me try to paint a picture.

It is the twelfth of December. I am sitting on my foam cushions listening to the sounds of a child getting beaten by her mother. The child is screaming for the abuse to stop but her mother isn't listening to her in her blinding fit of rage—the child will later emerge from the house with a huge black eye. Outside the sun is shining on the dry and dusty earth. Normally, the nights and mornings reach a cooler temperature in the low 70s, but at this time during mid-day, the sun's rays are at full force and the only people outside my door who dare brave the heat are the barely clothed children who run and play with their holiday toys—old tires, balloons, and recycled cans. To mask the sound of tears and pain from my neighbor, I begin to play my Christmas music mix. The first song on the list is “Please Come Home for Christmas” and it seems so out of place in this moment that it almost cruelly plays upon my ears. I begin to feel certain emotions that I can only describe as dangerous when felt in a place so far from home: loneliness, confusion, anger, a yearning for home and family. Though I realize these emotions have no place in my heart, I let them start to seep in and the tears start to form. And then, at this moment of fragileness and vulnerability, Otis Redding starts to play “Merry Christmas, Baby” and the barely clothed children who are gathered so close to my door run over and start to dance in a way so comical that I can't help but smile and try to purge myself of the negative emotions.

This snapshot of life in Manigri isn't unlike many December days that I have here. It's why I have such a difficult time imagining a blustery snow storm and family members gathered happily together. It's why everyday is a mixture self-pity, that I'm alone in a strange world missing my family and friends, followed by a moment of self-realization, that I'm surrounded by love and family of a different sort.

I remember feeling similar emotions around the holidays last year. The holidays are the hardest time to accept the differences of a world so foreign from the one you once knew. It's hard to force yourself to let go of old family traditions and accept that this year new traditions are going to be made. The truth of the matter is that even with every smile and laugh the holiday spirit brings me in Manigri, I smile a little brighter knowing that next year I can return to my more familiar holiday traditions of snow and family and trivial pursuit. And so, as I said last year to my family, I will say it again, “Somebody sing something!”

7 comments:

loehrke said...

We sure do miss you too, little one. It is most definitely not the same without you. And it makes it even harder to know how sad and lonesome you get sometimes. Even though you are far, far away; you are close to our hearts and minds always. Always.
I hope you can keep focused on the beauty around you and hopefully can soon treat some of those beat up kids to the CUTEST dolls EVER.
Hopefully in Mali this year you'll have a Christmas that will be amazing beyond words as a new experience and even be able to play "hide the thimble" as an old one!!! :)

Anonymous said...

Um, so I'm hopefully getting the new Trivial Pursuit this Christmas that contains easy, medium and hard level questions. And hopefully one of the questions will be an obscure African reference that only you can get. And the women will rise from the ashes like a phoenix and stir the pot! That is my Christmas wish for you next year.
I'm sending all my prayers out to you and your little village. Hope you have a moment of peace this Christmas!
-Hanna

Anonymous said...

Nancy told me to read this blog thing. I found out I have a niece in the Peace Corps in Africa! Who knew?

Actually, I'm rather proud of you. You chose to do a worthwhile thing, and it seems that worthwhile things are often hard to do. Chin up. You put the "awe" in awesome.

Brad

Anonymous said...

As we sit here in -2 degree weather and up to our knees in snow and ice- we shall sing- "This is my island in the sun" (Rizzo the rat)
Nancy

Shari said...

Hello Carly, Jessica's mom here. Your dad and mom are such good cheerleaders for Jess, and give her such wonderful moral support: I would hope to be able to do the same for you. Oh, your post was sad! We are sad also to think of our girls being so far away at the holidays, and missing you and knowing that you are missing your family, home, friends, and traditions. I agree, it is not the same withought you, and feels less festive!
It seems to me that such times will serve to make home/family/tradtions more valuable and treasured when experienced once again. Also, that pain, dispair, sadness, lonliness, loss, frustration, etc and the processing thereof are emotions that give even more depth to one's character. And, although I, for one, generally think at such times that in being a compassionate and empathetic person, one could just as well have expereinced such feelings vicarioulsy while still managing transformational learning,nevertheless, the struggle that you are experiencing, and depth of emotion involved are all part and parcel as well as the gift, of your PVC experience. Take care, be well, and never doubt that your mere presence is also a gift to those whose lives you touch, even in the smallest of ways. Peace to you in the New Year!
Warmly,
Shari Crist
Jessica's mom

Anonymous said...

Hi Carly,
I've been following your blog pretty regularly, though this is my first comment. I completely understand this latest post. Christmas in India this year included nothing much more exciting than my host grandma's cataract surgery...
Anyhow, I just thought you should know that your insights are inspiring. You probably don't know how many people you've touched by writing so earnestly and by sharing these experiences.
Take care,
-Sakhi

Anonymous said...

Hi Carly, this is sheela, sakhi's mom!! sakhi forwarded your blog to us because she knows we love reading these experiences!! i loved Shari's response, i don't think i can say anything better than that!! you are learning so much at this young age,and teaching us with your blog that we are so blessed!!may god keep you in his care, be well!! warm wishes, sheela