rain and a weekend ramble

well, i awoke this morning to the third consecutive day of rain. it ebbs and flows, ranging from a drizzle to a downpour reminiscent of a hurricane (with winds to match), but it never really stops. but one blessing out of it all is how cool it has been. yesterday i had to bundle up with a sweater and a woven blanket i had bought at the market. last night i was downright cold. it's been fun, though, getting caught in the rain and then warming back up again with a cup of tea or hot chocolate. not exactly what i had in mind when i packed for my time here in west africa!

in two weeks exactly, i will be landing in london, and sierra leone will be far behind me. then all i will have is the memories in my heart, the pictures and video clips on my computer, and the various things i have picked up along the way: two calabash (a type of gourd) bowls, a few strings of beads, a blanket, and some wooden animals. it's a rather depressing thought, actually. but with change always comes growth, and i am beginning to look forward with great anticipation to the coming semester. i have some really wonderful classes ahead of me, a family of loving friends, and many adventures in store.

the one thing that i am probably looking forward to with the most is the independence of being at school. any feminists which feel that american women are oppressed by the male race really should step out of the box a bit and come to sierra leone. it's not so very awful at least on the surface. but when i hear that our women (who are advised to remain sexually abstinent for six months in order to heal fully) can't go back to their husbands right away because they will be forced into sexual intercourse, or about husbands who leave their wives because they having children and take any children she has had with him, or about the beatings and violence - i begin to see a glimmer of what i have been so blessed as not to experience.

for me here, it only becomes evident as a vague feeling of discomfort. it comes in the calls of 'hey white girl' from across the street, in the winks of the male passersby, in that indescribable look of ownership and hunger in so many of the faces of the young men i have met along the road which speaks so clearly: you are a woman and i can do whatever i like with you. you are white and therefore you are an especially exotic toy. generally, i brush it off. but the hardest to endure is when it's a couple walking together and the husband or boyfriend blatantly flirts with me while his wife/girlfriend is standing right there. she stands there, eyes cast to the ground. glancing up, our eyes catch and i see a brief flicker of something. pain, anger, sorrow, despair? i can't be sure. but my heart aches as i continue along the way. i have begun to take a perverse pleasure in completely ignoring all the men i meet along my walks, acknowledging the women only. these greetings are often met by surprise and, just maybe, a smile.

don't get me wrong, not every relationship is like that. i have seen husbands come to the clinic faithfully to visit their wives. sitting with them and touching them when no one else outside the hospital will. i have seen women so strong and forceful that you almost fear for their husband at home. i have seen women who know that they have a value independent of who they are married to, how many children they have, or how much they sell at market. but i also live in freetown, and i know that the rest of sierra leone - the real sierra leone - is much different.

honestly, i'm not sure where i am going with all of this, but these are the ramblings that fill my mind on these rainy, rainy days. i think that time will bring equality to sierra leone. already i see women beginning to question the status quo - the result of the efforts of countless men and women working for a handful of ngos over the years, as well as the efforts of many a pastor and politician. as the elections approach, i wonder honestly what will happen. i wonder if the special strengths and skills of the sierra leonean women will be embraced or once again placed on the back of a shelf somewhere. in neighboring liberia, the presidency of her excellency ellen sirleaf-johnson is a wonderful example of what african women have to offer. my times in the kitchen at the clinic, helping with cooking and picking out bits and pieces of the Krio chatter, have taught me that i certainly couldn't measure up to these bold, courageous, and altogether amazing women...

in more general news, things at the clinic are small-small. the rains and the upcoming election have slowed our steady stream of patients to an ever dwindling trickle. we'll be down to one ward on monday - thirteen patients altogher, i think. but as all the girls that i have become so close to leave to go home, it makes my own departure that much easier.