dreamstate

In many ways I feel like right after I graduated, almost a year ago, I fell into a deep sleep and have not yet woken up. The past (almost) 11 months in Cape Verde have passed with a kind of surreal glow that both holds the weight of time and is completely timeless. Each day begins and ends with such weightlessness that it does not seem real. Even dreams come and go with a kind of third degree of removal, like a painting of a painting... or a photo of a painting within a photo. Where exactly am I? Is this real? Am I really 24? Am I really going to be 25 by the next time I set foot on American soil? Who am I going to be when that happens? This, I do not know.

A few truths;

Cape Verde will be following me home. Already one of my closest friends here in my community will be moving the Boston on June 29th. A handful of my best students (and some that aren't the best) will also be moving to the Boston/Providence area. Who knows who else from here will be there awaiting my arrival there in 2008... I think I will need to have two parties when I return, a welcome back party for me and a welcome party for my Cape Verdean friends.

I am/will be a different person when I arrive. I already am. I couldn't possibly point to exact changes (other than the few extra pounds...), but, like a snake, I have shed my skin many times as I have grown. I have laid at night and watched the stars. I have watched as the sun put itself to rest, each day upon a different horizon. On this tiny island in this giant ocean on this tiny planet in this giant universe, I am just a fraction of a speck of a particle trapped in a galactic sneeze. Like a chameleon, my colors are constantly changing from idealistic to pessimistic to realistic to fatalistic to altruistic to seflish to apathetic to energetic to understanding to caring to anger to pride to shame and everything in between. Who am I to have the rights that I do and what did I do to deserve to be born into the life that I was born into?.... little questions...

Lonliness and isolation will do a lot of strange things to you. However, if you are not a cat person, you will not become a cat person.

Milestones come in all shapes and sizes. I am approaching the end of my first year teaching. Do I feel any more competent than I did when I began? Maybe a little, but competence is not one of those things that can be neatly sized and packaged. We will see if my students pass or fail, but that is no way to judge anything. Where do I see progress? Last night, I watched the slaughtering of a cow. If you remember, in December, witnessing the slaughtering of a pig was one of the hardest things I had done. It stabbed at me. It hurt me. I cried. I was made fun of. I couldn't bear to watch. Last night I stood on and watched as the cow was tied, cut, bled and opened. I even ate dinner at some point during the process. There is a difference in the manner of a pig and a cow. The pig screamed and faught. The cow just kind of accepted its fate. I watched though. In some ways, I feel like I experienced a new side of the culture here that I had been closing myself off from. It may be hard to imagine going for an evening walk beneath the stars and coming upon your neighbors preparing the cow for slaughter in front of the porch, but that is life here. The meat eaten here is from animals raised here. Every festa that I have been to has served chicken, goat, cow or pig that had once lived a stones throw from where it was cooked. Who knows, by the next time I write, I may have participated in the act of taking the life from a future meal. (disclaimer: I still do not eat the cow or pig. I politely decline at festas and face hundreds of questions, but that is my right to choose. Even if I did get to the point where I would want to eat beef/pork, I don't know how I feel about eating it here. I have yet to get sick from something I've eaten and, frankly, I'd like to keep it that way.)

The simple, beautiful things in life will always be simple and beautiful, it is up to us to take the time to recognize and appreciate them.