October 5, 2010
I am having a conversation with Alain, a work partner here at PSI and he is trying to speak English. It is not easy to understand and we are both trying to get connected to the wifi in the office that has been spotty for the last few days. I wish that the air conditioner was turned on, but they never have it on in the mornings.
“It is not very fast,” he says slowly, deliberately, typing something on his laptop.
“Well, this is Africa.” I smile when I say it, teasing, but I am frustrated. Immediately I regret the comment as his eyebrows raise, surprised. He smiles back, but there is tension now.
“It is always fast in America?” He doesn’t look at me.
“Oui.” There is a long moment of silence, something that has just started getting less awkward for me, but now I feel like my months of habituation haven’t happened.
And then: “Tell me why you are here. What are your ideas to help the development of Africa.” He smiles when he asks, but I can feel the anticipation filling the space between us. I don’t know how to answer anymore. If he had asked me months ago I would have said something about providing my time and skills to the people here to help them help themselves, but honestly I have not felt particularly useful in weeks.
When I got here I thought that my idealism was held in check. I thought of myself as someone who was skeptical of the whole idea of aid work and that I had read enough so that naïveté was the last thing I brought with me. Well, it wasn’t true. I don’t think I was lying to myself exactly, but I was definitely clouding some truths about what I wanted to accomplish here. I would have thought that I could answer a simple question about what I hope to do here for the next two years.
But I don’t have any answers and that sounds so cynical it makes my stomach hurt.
No comments:
Post a Comment