My Day

My average day. Wake up at about 6:30 to the sound of some native African birds, don’t know what their names are. They start at precisely 6:30 sharp; you could tell time by them! I am met by the noises of the morning neighborhood activities such as (most often heard) babies wakening and putting out an outright fit, hah. People in the tailor hut about 10 feet away from my window start these days with radios and washing and conversing about the day to come, all in thick Krio. I finally get up at about 7 and begin the day, most commonly sitting in meditation for the day’s events and tasks. I might write in my journal and I always read some of Thomas A Kempis’ Imitation of Christ. Then I suit op my backpack with the tutoring materials and any other supplies I might need. Every third day I am responsible for spending for food and transportation for my two housemates upstairs. Mondays I go to morning prayer in town, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays I go to Krio right after devotions. At about 10:30 the team heads out for town to go to out corresponding places for tutoring appointments at 11. At about 12:30 everyone has lunch and then I go to the City of Rest. My time there is highly variable depending on what has gone on before – maybe a few guitar lessons on a worn out old bunk bed or chess or draft on a bench. On Tuesdays and Thursdays we host an art class from 3:30-4:30 and that wraps up the day. Much of my time at the City of Rest is spent with a select few of the people who have been recommended to me by Helain – The Dutch woman in charge – identifying those who have very few friends and loving relationships . I get on a poda-poda (public transport) to get home in time for dinner either to make it or to buy it off the streets (usually an egg and cheese or banana and peanut-butter sandwich). Every dinner is different and demanding of itself, either cooking or simply deciding what to eat. We usually eat (me and my two teammates living together) at about 7-8, and at this time the sun has set so that we are eating by candlelight or completely in the dark. We make enough that we’re all usually stuffed with rice and some sort of sauce, and sometimes we top it off with a delicious mango. And then we’re exhausted so it’s time for sleep (where I hope there will be electricity for a fan to be on so that I don’t sleep coated in sweat, ugh). Then: a new day begins! Wow, what a life!