Prepare for re-entry….

It’s 3:00am, and I'm wide awake on the day of my departure from Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso and Africa.  I paused for a moment to consider whether this is the beginning of restlessness referred to in the article about “re-entry shock” (a.k.a “Reverse Culture Shock”).   Lying in bed, under my mosquito net, I wonder how often I’ll think to myself “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen…You don’t know what I’ve seen”.  The truth of the matter is, sometimes I don’t know what I’ve seen.  In some cases, this will be because of my misinterpretation of language, culture or context and sometimes it’s just my mind subconsciously altering things to fill in the blanks.  I’ve recently done some reading on this and I think you’d be surprised about just how big a role the mind plays in fabricating your reality.

Nevertheless, my thoughts begin to weave a perspective on returning home; to family, to work, to myself. One month away.  Aside from the African experience, this experience has been a first in being away from Bev and the kids for any length of time.  After 20 extraordinary years of marriage and both kids lifetimes, this is the longest period of time I have gone with out being with them.  While we have no regrets,  Bev and I have spoken of this often, this opportunity has allowed us to affirm that no experience, no salary or lifestyle is worth living apart from your family.  It can only imagine how life becomes an empty, dark and unbalanced existence where you fool yourself into thinking that’s why your here…to consume, accumulate, and live alone.  No thanks…I know why I’m here and I’m looking forward to getting back to them.

I spent my last few hours in Ouagadougou, doing some last minute souvenir shopping; trying to time the spending of my last few cfa (African Francs) with my departure.  There nothing like haggling over of a price when all you really have is a few francs in your pocket.  You really do get the “Bonne prix” in the markets, when you can sincerely walk away saying “Sorry that’s all got”.  I usually try and distribute my cash through out different pockets so I can even pull my pocket inside out to show them “That’s all I really have”.  As you walk away, you “almost” always hear the merchant calling you back.  I was surprised when one merchant asked for my $9.99 Walmart watch, “then maybe your sandals”, “What about in your hotel room…you must have a cadeux for me in your hotel room?”.   And remember everything is in french so there’s always a little pause in responding.  It must appear to them, I am contemplating the deal…I’m actually just translating in my head and for a brief moment appreciating the reality of the story unfolding in front of me.  Like I’m gong to return to my hotel room with 4 guys and let them pick through my stuff until we have a deal.

You’ll remember from yesterday’s entry, I’ve asked my driver drop me off at the airport a little early to allow him to return to his home in time to watch the Burkina Faso/Nigeria CAN2013 final match.  My flight has been delayed an hour so I’m actually sitting in the small (fairly underserviced) airport for 5 hours. The fact that Burkina Faso appears to be trying to solve their national unemployment through airport security helps past the time.  Our flight is the only flight out tonight and it took 2 hours to board he plane.  I showed my passport no less than 7 times, scanned both hands and thumbs for finger prints, had my picture taken, passed through a metal detector and then had both carry on bags opened up and explored.  What do they think I’m going to leave with?

Taking my seat on the plane, I paused for a minute and returned to the moment I sat in that plane seat in Montreal one month ago.  I laughed a little at how little confidence I had that this experience was actually going to happen.  I kept waiting for the “course correction” for the change in plans, for the “something's come up and we’re not doing that anymore”.  But it didn’t happen.  I vividly remember the Greyhound bus driver in Ottawa having my name on his list, the baggage attendant in Montreal handing me my boarding pass and finally taking my seat on that airplane in Montreal only then did I allow myself to believe it really was happening.  Well we’ve come full circle and it really did happen.  It (Yako) was nothing like I thought it would be and I wasn’t exactly who I thought I would be either.

I’ll share with you that twice on the long flight home, my throat got thick and my eyes began to water; once listening to a song and once watching a movie.  I was able to catch myself and hold onto the feeling long enough to explore what was happening.  It’s worth doing this.  We often race from one experience, emotion or thought to another without actually pausing to reflect on….reality; like Tarzan swinging from vine to vine never really stopping.  To be honest, I don’t know if that lump in my throat and moisture in my eyes was the who and what I was leaving behind or the who and what I was returning to but after a few minutes on the edge, I buried it and chuckled to myself whispering under my breath ”pussy” :).

As we begin our descent into Montreal, I look out the window, wondering if I’ll see any snow; LOL…that’s all there is down there.  The video screen on the seat in front of me tells me the outside temperature is –2C, so I begin switching my sandals over to socks and running shoes.  I noticed a group of West African men (I recognize the accent now) have already put their parkas, mitts and tuques on.  They seem as excited about the snow as I am.

The Greyhound bus that connects the Air France airport service in Montreal to the Ottawa Train Station was delayed an hour but I was able to connect with Bev so she wouldn’t be stuck waiting for too long.  This also gives a chance to wrap up my thoughts on the entire experience.  I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to “wrap it all up in to a neat little package”.  This journey has had so many dimensions to it; family, community, international and professional development, spiritual, cultural, etc.  I’ve tested myself in so many ways; some grand and some not so grand but worthwhile experiences none the less.  I’m reminded of a section in one of my favourite books “Illusions…or The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah” by Richard Bach.  Don Shimoda provides Richard with a simple explanation as to why we are here.  Sitting in a movie theater, Don draws a connection between the illusion presented on the movie screen and the illusion of life…of reality.  He proceeds, through a series of questions, to help Richard see that we show up for the illusion offered in the theater for 1 of 2 reasons…to learn to have fun or both.  That’s why we are here.  With respect to my African experience…all I can say is mission accomplished.

Note: the preceding blog entry was one of 3 or 4 blog entries I posted shortly after I returned home.

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