Why do we trick ourselves into thinking the situation is so bleak, so unresolvable? In Cape Verde I get into funks that last days, weeks . I have no idea why I am here, what I am doing, and it’s all I can do but lie in my bed and listen to Explosions in the Sky and feel sorry for myself.
It doesn’t have to be like this. That’s what I always forget. The beauty of life is its ability to change without any fore-thought or planning.
I was in town when I saw M. She and I have a special connection. She has this sort of inexplicable quality, when you look at her for some reason, you just feel that she is a warm person with good intentions.
M is 24 years old and does not have any children—this is rare in Cape Verde. Her life is hard, her family is poor, and she did not finish high school. However, she tries. She is enrolled in the GED equivalent course that I teach the English lesson for. She recently obtained dual citizenship (Cape Verdean and Portuguese) which will allow her to travel and find work more easily. I know she feels estranged from other girls her age because she doesn’t have children, a boyfriend, and doesn’t drink alcohol. Her mom is a big, gregarious Cape Verdean woman who always has a comment about everyone’s personal lives, my health, and the weather.
I told M I was on my home to wash my clothes. We got into the same car, headed back to our zone and she started the hike up the mountain to Achada Costa, where she lives. She told me she was going up there and then back down. I told her to rest, she didn’t need to. I ate lunch (cold beans and rice) outside barefoot with Daminga (my mom/woman I live with) and our neighbor Inalida as they shelled beans. M showed up and the four of us shelled beans. I was mostly silent as they talked about how kids these days lack respect, who is pregnant, who is moving to America. I brought out a snack of goat cheese Lisa had brought me from Santo Antao (it’s a Cape Verdean delicacy) and tortillas I had recently made. Everyone was impressed by the tortillas especially when I explained I eat them when I want bread but don’t have any, as our zone doesn’t have anyone close by that makes and sells bread in the mornings.
I refused to let M wash my clothes with me, partially because it seemed wrong to make her do even more housework, but mostly because Cape Verdean women seem to be terrified of my granny panties (women here tend to wear skimpy thong underwear). We sat in my room at my desk, the only place I have to sit in my room. She asked to see some photos from our English class’ Christmas party. I showed her, along with some other photos on my computer, praying the folders contained nothing too damning. I don’t know what really lead to it but somehow the conditions were appropriate and we had a Real Conversation. This stands in stark opposition to the majority of my daily conversations in Cape Verde. Perhaps there is safety in confiding in someone who may not totally understand. Like a Confession you know you will be absolved against. Or perhaps she really has no one else to talk to.
We talked about what we want to do with our lives, what we like, where we want to go. She told me there is a man she likes in her zone. His family however, won’t let him date her because her family is poorer and she is un-educated. I had never seen her so agitated, she nearly cried. I was touched she confided me but found the comforting words foreign and muddled in my throat. I tried to console her, hoping my genuine sympathy for her would bridge our language gap.
She is good at math and wants to be an accountant. I commended her for exceling in a male-dominated field. I told her about applying for jobs in Africa in health communications. I told her about the one I had been interested in focused on preventing HIV/AIDS transmission from mother-to-child through breast milk. She didn’t know that AIDS could be transmitted like this. She thought it could only be spread through intravenous drug use. I have read Cape Verdean literature that indicates intravenous drug use is the ONLY route HIV/AIDS is transmitted. She also talked about how immigrants come from Africa and have sex with wealthy Europeans who live in Cape Verde, and that these immigrants have AIDS. I explained that anyone can have AIDS, even wealthy people in America can have it.
Women in Cape Verde can’t be trusted, you can’t have real friends, she whispered to me. I truly felt sorry for her. Imagine feeling unable to relate, understand to most everyone in your own country? It is one thing for me to feel lonely, a foreigner in another country, but to feel like alone like a foreigner in your own country must be awful.
I do not have a lot of young Cape Verdean friends. I live with an older couple, Daminga is like my mother. My counterpart is also an older lady, our association, and the zones closest to where I live are largely made up of older people whose principal activities involve agriculture and farming. Maybe to a degree, I understand M’s point of view. I feel little in common with girls my age, constantly have to explain why I don’t have children, a boyfriend, a husband.
I feel a flutter of nervousness whenever M or anyone stops by my house. First, I am awkward. I’d be uncomfortable with American surprising me at my house. With my Cape Verdean neighbors I worry my language will falter and she won’t be able to understand me. This is compounded by the fact I feel that I should not have this type of worry this late in my service, so rather than confront it by practicing; I act like it’s not a problem and ignore it. Call it a bad habit, call it self-loathing , it comes perfectly natural to me. However her visit ended up being like what soccer practice was for me last year. I would dread going but then while there I felt so connected, in-touch with my community, I couldn’t understand why I dreaded it.
The ironic part of all this is, she would probably be uncomfortable with how I live my life. Maybe it’s a cultural thing, I don’t know. By that I mean Americans have the luxury of education, sensibility, prevention. Americans might drink but we are sensitized strongly against drunk driving. Young people might engage in sexual relationships but we have seemingly unlimited access to various birth control strategies. It’s like we have baby-proofed our country for all our stupid, reckless behavior.
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