It’s Sunday night. I can hear the usual night sounds of Freetown, despite my stereo pumping the rhythm of Brenda Fassie—an instinctive beat that moves the body! I just finished closing up my flat for the night; I shut my windows, pulled the curtains, slid my glass balcony door shut, and let down the thick blue mosquito net over my queen-sized bed. As I lay here on my foam-cushion wicker couch, I can smell a ‘Splash of Summer’ still lingering in the A/C chilled air. Since Friday, I have gone through almost an entire $5 bottle of Glade, a $7 bottle of Febreze’s ‘Fresh Linen,’ about 20 sticks of sandalwood incense, and 3 various scented candles to overtake the rancid smell of burnt boiled eggs. Yes, I burnt the eggs I was trying to boil. I should stop cooking. As you can imagine, my apartment smells like a burnt down candle shop that happened to catch the chicken coup as well. Not sure if my head hurts because of the toxic air, or because I live in Salone (local word for Sierra Leone).
Speaking of Salone… oddly enough, the piece of cake I’m eating from the coffee shop next door tastes like the cheddar cheese that is in my fridge; cheese that tastes like the supermarket from which I bought it—Saint Mary’s. And it isn’t just me who thinks that the cheese tastes like the supermarket. What is even more peculiar is that the same phenomenon occurs at the Saint Mary’s supermarket in The Gambia; all dairy products taste like the store. Hmmm….
It’s a calm night and I feel relaxed. My living room is lit by three scented candles; all 8 of my living room lights stopped working yesterday. I thought the bulbs blew at once, so I went to the store (which turned out to be a 60 minute journey) to buy new ones and air freshener (ended up buying the Glade). I carried all 8 bulbs to the store to show the man. Turned out, they were all identical. But I was glad I didn’t risk it. Last time I went shopping for light bulbs it took several hours and included 3 trips back to the house and 5 stores. Anyways… obviously the light bulbs weren’t the problem; the lights just don’t work. Hopefully, I’ll remember to get the maintenance request in first thing tomorrow at work.
‘Say Hey I love You’ is now rock’in out of my Bose, another fabulous Franti hit. OK, so I’m going to attempt to write a blog entry every Sunday about an event that I experienced over the week; one that is hopefully worth writing about. I’ll write this first one now while I wait for a friend who is flying in from Headquarters. For this week, you are going to have the opportunity to read about my experience buying picture frames…not the best experience of my week, but certainly the most entertaining!
I have been told that I have arrived at the Middle Place, or the Center of the Earth, while in the Southwest, the Middle East, and Africa. And each time, the face of the voice has the same look of pride, confidence, and love. I think they want me know that I have entered a sacred place as a visitor. Whether it is to interpret what I experience or simply describe observations as a silent witness in awe, this space is to capture—in the written word and images—my moments in the Middle Place.
