I’m doing okay. Yes, just okay, as though contentment is inferior to other emotions. I’m not swarmed with moments of joy gnatting at my ear, and I never let the raincloud over my head grow large enough to storm. I just let be what wants to be, as long as it leaves me be, too.
As Comoros is 98% Muslim (locals would argue 100% of true Comorians are Muslim), the entire country has been participating in Ramadan since we arrived. During this month-long holiday, people who are Islamic fast while the sun is up –from dawn until dusk. Along with abstaining from food, the fast includes no drinking water and even no chewing gum (which I thought was superfluous before I learned that many Comorians don’t even drink their own spit during the daytime).
One overly patriotic Comorian woman from our host village, Mvouni, extended the fast beyond Islam to everyone on the island. She argues –literally—that fasting is a sort of respect: you fast because everyone else has to fast, too. I didn’t buy into that logic, which made the woman a little angry once when she confronted me and a few other PCT’s on the way to buy phone credit (we decided to play dumb, and pretend we didn’t understand what she was saying. It ended with shared laughter, so I’d call that a successful encounter).
But Ramadan has ended. It’s been just over a month since we arrived. A month of being asked if I was fasting every day by a stranger who would always scold me when I said “no.” A month since I’ve had a warm bath. A month since I’ve used a toilet that always works. A month since I’ve watched TV (quite the stretch for me), or seen my twin sister’s face in real time (I’ve been lucky enough to FaceTime my new baby nephew with wifi from the HQ office). A month since I’ve had a complete night sleep uninterrupted by morning prayer (or those freaking roosters…or cats, oddly enough).
I miss a lot of things from home, I’m not learning the local language as quickly as I wanted to, and I’ve been a little sick for the last few days. But I also have a family that treats me like their own after only three short weeks, and I’ve found identity with my group of trainees.
I’m still lost in the hedge maze of “why peace corps,” but I know the answer is waiting to be found somewhere toward the center. And I know there, too, hides another piece of me (As my Peace Corps wife and writing buddy, Nora, would quote: “All wonders you seek are within yourself” –Sir Thomas Browne).