(Last ?) Saturday in Africa

4 Dec

Last Saturday or not last Saturday, that is the question…

Some ask me why I want to stay here longer. Seeing how hard and unpleasant things can get down here, why do I want more ?? That is a valid question. Is it just love ? The opportunity to find work ? The chance to work on foreign grounds where things are not even close to the modern standards we know in Europe or beyond ? The climate ? Not having to stress about where to eat, drink or food shop and choose among the only 3 places available ? Shopping-rehab ? Learn to speak Fang maybe… And Spanish at the same time. Many reasons…

Despite the hard, boring and unsocial life here, I must admit that on some level, I do wish to stay longer, no matter how much I miss my friends and family back home. Am crossing hands, legs and feet to get a positive answer regarding my extended visa at the beginning of the week. It’s tough getting into the country as you may have understood after my almost 4 months wait, but I am trying to tell myself it may be easier to stay in it once you’re here…

So today may be my last Guinean Saturday. My Sunday flight has been postponed to Wednesday night with an arrival Thursday morning at dawn, wearing flip-flops and all of my cloths in order to prevent me from turning into a red haired ice cube. If things don’t go as wished, Thursday I am back among the French.

So what’s on the menu on this maybe-last weekend ? I’ve been working in Nico’s office in the morning. Being the perfect assistant anyone could hope for. After, a karate tournament in the French Cultural Centre in the afternoon, food shopping and pizza making… The first pizza I (we) will be making and by making I don’t mean opening the pizza box and cutting…


On my way to the CCF this afternoon I saw my first Guinean wedding. 8 cars driving by. The first one had a guy standing up in the back of the pick-up holding a cinema-worthy camera on his shoulder, filming the second car, hiding the wedded couple and a third pick-up truck with at least 30 people standing on it, sitting on it, on top of each other, underneath each other and looking like one happy singing sardine box. Traditional songs, traditional cloths… What I have noticed here is that many families dress alike. Same fabric for everyone, making dresses for the little girls. A suit for the little boy or shorts and a shirt. A dress for the mother and a shirt for the father. Families walking around dressed in the same colors and looking identical. Hard to shake off… I see where Maje, Comptoir des Cotonniers and other clothing brands got their ideas of mother and daughter collections. Same cloths, different sizing. The umbilical cord is still hanging in the air…


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