Sabbatical

As you may have noticed, I took a break from writing. I didn't really decide deliberately but I just couldn't ever find the right words. Last year was really difficult for me, both personally and professionally. One of my best friends, Kay Mosely, passed away and I spent ten months sorting out her affairs in Nouakchott and trying to say goodbye.

I saw her driving every where (any woman with grey hair) and I always felt her presence, giving me advice and guidance. "What would Kay do?" I don't believe in life after death or ghosts but I do believe that the people we love live on in our hearts and the lessons they taught us give us strength every day. 

When I was faced with the task of going through Kay's things, I realized how much I truly admired her. I found so many of my favorite books in her collection and I discovered new favorites as I read the ones I hadn't before. I regret not spending more time with Kay while I had the chance because I realize in her absence how much we shared. 

I remember visiting her apartment in D.C. a month before her passing and seeing her fantastic collection of treasures from her travels. Most of her apartment was decorated by her mother, who also had impeccable taste, and traveled extensively through Japan and Asia in the 1940's and 50's. Since most of her possessions were in storage, I begged her to bring them out and redecorate her guest room as an office where she could be surrounded by her favorite possessions. The entire weekend we listened to calypso music and thankfully I downloaded many of her favorite CDs into my computer. My plan was to send her an ipod with all of her favorite music on it in order to help make her music collection more portable, since she was always on the go. She still had boxes and boxes of cassette tapes.

I silently admired a brass bell of a Voudun snake woman, most certainly acquired from her time in Benin in the 1970's. We both spent significant time in Benin and we shared a love of the history and art present in daily life there, although we never really discussed it. On the bookshelf in her room, I saw a small collection of brass weights from Ghana. It made me smile because these weights are my favorite part of every African art collection I have seen at museums. We had admired similar weights at the African Art Museum earlier that same day. Kay had been incensed that the museum had labeled a bracelet as, "Toureg, Mauritania" since there are not Tuaregs in Mauritania. She told the guard and promised to write a letter to the curator. 

I told her a story about how I had bought a tiny weight of a man on a horse in Togo and how I had truly loved it but unfortunately it never made it back to the hotel with me after I left the shop because I gave it to my friend to put in her pocket (I didn't have any) and it had somehow fallen out, most likely during a walk on the beach. I waited for days for her to tell me it was a joke and reveal the tiny treasure but it never happened. Kay smiled and brought out her little gold weight of a man on a horse, the same as the one I has lost. I instantly realized how special my friendship with Kay was and how I had never met anyone so much like myself. 

I left DC reluctantly and I remember telling my friends in Chicago how I had formed this amazing friendship with an incredible person who was nearly twice my age in years but my exact same age in spirit. Kay taught me that friendship has no age limit. I was so excited for her to return to Nouakchott in the Fall so I would have someone to go to concerts with, visit museums, and travel to cultural festivals. 

I read on FB from a mutual friend that Kay was in a coma in the hospital. I was still in NY and I called one of her best friends in DC. I remember walking down Greenwich village when she called me back to tell me that Kay had suffered from a brain aneurism while meeting with an architect to design her dream house in Vermont. Kay passed away the following day. I was not able to attend the service in Vermont because I had to return to Nouakchott to start my fourth year training teachers. 

Kay's greatest gift to me was to teach me how to live in the present. She showed me how to rely on local resources in countries and not try to live the same as I can in the United States. I knew this, and tried to do this before I met Kay, but she reinforced it and helped me to see how I can truly live by her example. Kay also showed me how to use my experience in a country to work for the greater good. She was a great mentor and role-model for me. I will never forget her independent spirit and infectiously positive outlook on life's quirks. We laughed so much together, it really doesn't seem right to cry so much in her absence. 

A lot of other hard things happened last year - my main work partners became unreliable and manipulative, my new director invited my colleagues to assist in trainings while telling me it was for "participants only," and my employer banned me from traveling within Mauritania without providing an explanation or cause for concern (last year was the safest year and tourism was at an all time high since I arrived in 2009). In addition, my father's poor health continued and he is still extremely sick today. To make matters worse, my other best friend in Nouakchott became unhappy with her life there and was away for months at a time. She emigrated to Europe before the end of the school year. 

Nonetheless, I persevered and had a pretty successful year with my projects and classes. I taught a marvelous group of first year teacher-trainees and strengthened my friendships with new work partners who proved to be much more reliable. It was a year of growth, change, and truth-seeking. I was able to finally understand the ways that the power dynamics in Mauritania operate. I witnessed how divisive and destructive it can be when people in high positions feel threatened (even if there is no basis). Still, working in Mauritania for a fourth year was so important to me and if I had left any earlier I would have missed out on so much. I wouldn't change the year for anything. I feel more capable in my ability to design and implement programs and the challenges actually forced me to be more creative and independent. 

I was able to leave Nouakchott on a positive note. I didn't feel up to having a big goodbye party but I did have a party at the end of the school year and I will have another party next year when I visit. There were no dramatic goodbyes. I learned that I don't have to say goodbye to my friends in Mauritania because I can find a way to keep coming back. That's another lesson that Kay taught me.