Coming up the banks, from the sleeping waves. My clothes are drying in the sun, so I feel less heavy. Not grudgingly trudging, nor cursing my sunrise alarm.

Who holds the measuring stick? I've asked myself that question a few times. Increments of inches, meters, miles (God forbid)? There is undoubtedly a "fire beneath my seat", and I don't know whether to curse it and stamp it out or feed it and savor the sweet sting that sends me howling upward/downward. It is a sourceless pressure; yet, whenever something seems without origin, I am, likely, that origin-- the pressure to produce, to be productive. Nothing seems enough or up to snuff, yet I do not know where all the struggle is leading. Yes, it keeps me moving. Keeps me "self-aware", keeps me guilty. But then, it's just absurd. Who am I trying to satisfy? What ancient deficit am I trying to appease?

Hah. I'm not living so bewildered and stupefied with life. Not like it seems, above. But that is life, and its puzzlings have a reserved spot at the forefront of my mind. So while I scratch my pitiful sacrifice into this infinite desert, I am aware of the pitifulness. That being said, I'm back to teaching Englishes classes at a couple of Kalemie High Schools. Trying to use my deeply-unfounded attempt at teaching as a medium for new relationships and my own learning. While I don't know whether the students will truly benefit from my "lesson plans", I know that I am indeed learning a great deal and making many new friends. So teaching seems the means --flings green beans-- to other unforeseen fruits. Maybe that's why a person's "call" in life can seem so absurd. The pressure to move forward and to do more. It's because it is truly absurd, perhaps meaningless. But the direction "matters not", when an undetectable treasure lies at the end of a long, looping, angular, spotted, checkered rainbow.


Not sure if there's anything pertinent to report on. I watch the news every morning, open-mouthed. So much suffering. People are screaming (terrible screams that we'll never hear). Somewhere, people live against a background of blood and smoke. But not here, not where I am. I hear only the faintest remnant of their cries, like a chilling whisper.

There are other things, actually. Vincent, the qualified cook from Bukavu, arrived surprisingly a couple of days ago. And now I find myself blessed with coconut-adorned goat meat and delicious potatoes. I'm so glad to have him here, providing me with a balanced diet. Frozen fruit in the mornings, big meals in the afternoons, and soup and salad at night. I actually feel energized by it.

Other, simpler pleasures. Keith left me with a Nerds bag deceptively filled with Life-Savers mints. If I have a breast pocket on my shirt, you'll likely find one in there. I love how they're individually wrapped. I wonder if anyone's ever accused the guys at Life-Savers of being arrogant for sanctioning their fleeting little sweets with individual abodes. Well, I think it turns the process of eating a mint into a special ritual. Eating a Life-Saver requires more skill and forethought than, say... an Altoid. Maybe I should say "taking a Life-Saver" like "taking tea".

I also just found a sealed stick of cherry chap stick in one of the medical Ziploc bags I've had stowed away. What a perfect time in my stay to find something I'd forgotten about! It's true that I am nearing the end. Conversations with my family and friends have turned slowly towards my homecoming. And while I lay reading, behind my mosquito-netted Congo display, I smell that cherry chap stick (my lips aren't dry) and think about home.

I wanted to include something about my developing interest in linguistics. I don't think I've mentioned it here, yet. This experience has given me an acute awareness of my unfilled capacity for knowledge/skill/specialization. Now, I am truly excited to continue my education and feel driven to do so. I'm extremely interested in studying language, and have been fascinated during my research of it, here. While there is still time for further development and mind-changing, I can seriously see myself entering college en-route to becoming a linguist.

Thanks for reading!