sweeping up the heart

11/5/2002:
i was reading about water in The Healing Wisdom of Africa yesterday. about tears, sadness, grief, anger, rage and frustration. about keeping things inside. not properly grieving over lost loved ones. or about failure and loss.

Malidoma Somé calls for water rituals to address this pent up grief. water brings balance and realignment. it counteracts the fire that can rise and rage within us if we don't grieve. if we only move on/away from loss and keep busy.

i don't know about his rituals. not for me. but there's wisdom in his insight. and his comments on grief hit home. he wrote something i recall telling Rama once myself. reflecting my refusal to express or deal with emotion because of the fear of losing control.

according to Somé, this is symptomatic of our denial of grief's social component. we deal with loss and failure alone. but in doing so, we don't really deal with it. it's kept inside. it's pent up. it grows and swells. one day it will burst.

the flood gates will open, and Somé says that's not so bad. i'll quote him on this, then quote Emily Dickinson. her poem speaks for itself.

"I have heard many times people express their fear of grief because they feel that if they even begin to release it, they will be overcome, eventually drowning in their own tears. Indeed, this is how it feels, but this is not what actually happens" (p. 220)

"You cannot truly grieve within and remain composed without. Emotion is an extroverted phenomenon, and it cannot find its much-need release if expressed only internally" (p. 220)

"The end of the domination of one's life by such emotions requires an outpouring of liquid" (p. 220)


The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted opon Earth –

The Sweeping up the Heart
And putting Love away
We shall not want to use again
Until Eternity –

a glimpse of leadership, and dead chickens

10/25/2002:
hmmm... thought that i'd not written in here for a while. not so. yesterday and today were long days. both good. the lecture [a pedagogic seminar that i helped organize and present on learning/teaching styles] went well yesterday. have not talked to Peter and Paul about it, but i imagine they also feel the same. the VP had nothing but praise for the effort.

in fact, he really surprised me yesterday. several of his comments were right on the mark, timely and helpful. explaining, emphasizing and even making missed points. he really did show a glimpse of what we need in our administration. insight. leadership. motivation. knowledge.

he said something to me about the fact that most teachers conveniently left before 1pm. he said that people who don't produce have a certain view on people who do. 'nough said. the VP... a man of 2 faces. if he just had some scruples. c'est dommage.

another dommage is "my" chicken. the one "Iron Lady" brought mama the night before she left. i gave it to Ibrahim to keep until... and the thought crossed my mind that "what if it dies?" BAD LUCK! it did. got sick and died. but it doesn't end there. 7 other chickens, all Abdou's [Ibrahim's brother], got sick. had to be slaughtered. and there are still 3 more sick chickens. subhan Allah!

c'est la vie...

2/1/2002:
...and the days just keep marching on. indiscriminate. the passage of time, that is. but i won’t go there. i nobi in mood fo philosophizing.

i have been speaking more pidgin as of late. maybe that speaks to how little i’ve been in the classroom? and that shall only get worse. or is it better?

will no longer have 3rd year now. i’ve actually only had them all of 2 times this term. one class with 3A, one with 3B. but let’s not go there, either. i know i will have to soon, but not tonight.

been exercising these past few days. eating ravenously as a result. all is well there...

went out to visit Mu’allem [literally, teacher] Gibreel’s compound. man passed away last Tuesday. left behind 3 wives and 12 kids. people here were real shook that first day. good man.

i think i only met him once or twice. didn’t speak to him more than once. had to see a pic to remember his face. his compound is way out there. about ½ an hour by motorcycle down Bu Road. then a five minute walk down and up a hill.

the road is bad at parts. rocky. Ibrahim [Muhammad Omaru's brother] took me... wasn’t the comfiest ride, but i’m glad he took me. Sani [Ibrahim and Muhammadu’s older brother] was there.

Gibreel lost a wife a year or 2 ago when lightening struck the compound. i saw her/his orphans today. people die all over the world, everyday. c’est la vie... so why does it seem like it happens more here? why does it seem so much more unfair here?

gotta amend that tired cliché to something like c’est la vie en afrique... doesn’t make it any more fair, but at least a little more realistic.

mourning morning

6/15/2001:
dreams were not a problem last night. hope i can say the same tomorrow morning. men are still outside with Das. women are drumming in the house where Yoyo’s body lays... Petit says they’ll be doing so until ~1am. all is well. i will sleep. just hope i don’t dream.

Mirabelle was kind/considerate enough to make dinner. Das was kind enough to step away form his duties to eat with us. they keep the house open during mourning for 7 days here. he won’t be able to wash for that week. they’ll bury the body tomorrow morning as all the family come in from Douala. the house will be busy these next few days.

Jean, Sylvie and the crew came to pay their respects earlier. as did many of the trainees. i know Jean has my best interest at heart but i feel uncomfortable when they show up to make sure all is well... like my well-being takes precedence over everything else going on in the family. alas... no complaints. glad someone’s looking out.

can’t wait until i hear from the fam. gotta send them something, too... just not motivated b/c i know it’ll be ages before they get it, reply and i get their reply. so much i want to say, though. lights went out. i wrote this entry by flashlight.

Yoyo is dead.

6/14/2001:
couldn’t finish writing a letter to mom. so much to say that i can’t possibly say it, but i tried and just rambled... not sure what i’m going to do with the letter now. suppose letter writing won’t necessarily come as easy as i expected... much like french.

i’m struggling with french. maybe Petit Prince speaks too much english? maybe i’m not trying hard enough? maybe it’ll come with time? i’m studying a little... just tough devoting all my time to work on french with everything else: tech reading, health reading, family time, “chores,” etc. time management... it never ends.

anyhow... enough about that. after 2 or 3 days battling with serious gas issues i had to walk out of our general training meeting today. Japhet found me ½ way down the main-road ––– wait, people are crying and wailing outside...

Das’ older brother Yoyo is dead.

my “issues” (physical, emotional, whatever...) seem trivial. Yoyo’s body is lying where I saw him last this afternoon. he seems much more peaceful now than when he was alive. Petit says he had heart issues. he arrived this morning from Douala and left to the hospital only ~4 hours ago.

Das is together. he showed me a picture of the 2 of them. and one of Yoyo’s little baby. it’s quiet outside now. the men are probably still in with the body. not sure where the women are. feel bad for Petit... he’s got an exam tomorrow. i took my mefloquine today. not looking forward to my dreams.