Nostalgie

To say they miss something here, people usually say “J'ai la nostalgie de....” (I have the nostalgia of....) or “….. nyenafin be n na” in Bambara. I've been thinking about things I miss while I'm here, hence this blog post. It's funny because a lot of what I miss seems so foreign to our current life here that I can't really imagine having it. Food is probably the best example of this. The other day I had a strange craving for a Triscuit*, and Neal mentioned our favorite breakfast place the Tin Shed, which sounds delicious, but I can't actually imagine being bundled up in a sweater digging in to a plate of my favorite gravy smothered things, so it is almost like I don't miss it at all. I've been feeling a little under the weather today, and my sore throat did get me thinking about orange juice (and Trader Joe's) in a highly nostalgic way. Of course, I can't imagine being in a Trader Joe's either, the AZAR supermarket here nearly undid me and its selection is definitely more limited than the average TJs.

What I really miss, as is always the case, are people. I miss my family, as I always do when I'm away from them, and my/our wonderful friends. I came to the sudden realization at a bit of a emotional low point the other day that I spend 95% of time with men, small children, and Malian women who are either much older than I or teenagers. Add to that how hard it is to connect in a real way with Malian women because of the language barrier and the fact that we spend our days doing entirely different things, and the limited but lovely time I spend with Stephanie and the SIT girls and I really miss my amazing, intelligent female friends. I think four years of living with you in college and coming home to hang out with another amazing group of women spoiled me.

Another weird kind of “nostalgie” I feel here is a sort of preemptive missing of things here while they're still happening. Having left the people and places I love here once before, when I'm in a certain kind of mood, everything develops a sort of bittersweetness. This feeling always gets me thinking about Baba, my host dad. My sister Fadima and I talk about him often, I think because generally people here do not talk too much about those who have passed away and so she doesn't often get the chance. Even though I am already used to the “new normal” of the house without Baba, I still notice his absence often. I have taken over his usual role of helping my little niece's with their work, now it is Issouf or Fadima who changes the channel when there is too much kissing on the soap operas, and now I talk about the news with Neal or Voldo. I miss him.

Lest any one be concerned, I am not usually in a state of nostalgie, and am still having a great time. Most hours of most days I am very optimistic, but I think the occasional bout of nostalgie reminds me of what is good in various parts of my life.

* Neal insisted that one and a half biscuits is in fact equivalent to a Triscuit.... which while amusing, did not get me a Triscuit.