A lot has happened since I wrote last; most significantly, I have been in Burkina more than a year now and I seem to have gotten over the struggle with my (very American) expectation of achievement. I have decided to do what I can with what I have where I am and let that be enough-- screw everybody’s expectations, including my own.
October 10, 2011
I was eating dinner at my kitchen counter, shoveling it in as if it was the last spaghetti in the Faso, when over the pounding bass of dance music down the street I heard a soft noise outside my door.
I don’t get many visitors that aren’t local kids, always wanting things, and breaking things, and stealing my heart anyway. I was oh so ready to yell at them (it was too late to be bothering the white lady). When I looked up I saw it wasn’t my kids, but instead a woman I know from around town standing there with her chubby baby, Noel (born, you guessed it, Christmas day). I stopped, mouth open, mid-Moore thought, and then tried not to look shocked as I went out to greet this rare grown-person visitor.
at 7:05 AM