We have been living in the house next to our host house.
Arriving at night we met one son.
Which son, I don’t know.
First day we go outside and see many, many people.
Kids, young adults, parents
I assume they are all one family.
I didn’t hear anyone speaking English.
Not even the kids.
I assume no one except our contact spoke English.
Yes!
This is an out for not getting too close to the family.
Yes!
I won’t care leaving these people.
…
Wrong.
I was swinging in the Eno with the kids when Consalva came over.
She spoke English.
Clear English.
Great!
I tried avoiding her the first week but that didn’t work.
My heart wouldn’t allow myself to stay away.
We got to know each other.
She is like a good friend from back home.
A couple weeks later I decided to help/watch them cook dinner.
I was terrible but in my vulnerability, the other women became comfortable with me.
They laughed at me, of course, when I took pictures of how they cook.
It was funny to them and to me.
I would have laughed at me.
That night after I failed miserably at cooking, I got up the courage to ask Consalva about her life.
She explained everything.
This is what she said:
I live her with my Aunt and Uncle.
They have six kids.
All but one is away at university or married.
The youngest girl still lives here, Joyce.
Happy, the other young girl is their granddaughter.
Joyce and Happy are about the same age.
My few of my cousins live here as well.
The boy you see running around here is my younger brother.
I have two other siblings but don’t get the see them.
My mother died two months ago by some sickness.
I have been living here for two years and barely had enough money to visit my mom in the hospital.
I arrived the day she died.
She couldn’t talk to me and I couldn’t tell her anything.
I hated that I couldn’t speak to her.
I was so sad.
I still find myself crying when I am alone.
There is more to her story and to this family’s story but I feel it isn’t appropriate to tell the whole world.
So as hard as it is for me to leave, it is even harder to her story’s and love on the people here and then have to leave them after a month.
A month isn’t a long time but it is just long enough to feel the pain of leaving people you care about.
I know these people are strong but I wonder if I can handle two more months of leaving these wonderful people.
