Are you where you thought you'd be seems to be a theme that keeps leaching its way into my mind during my journey filled hours of staring at the wall, waking in the night to sounds of rats in the ceiling, cooking, and other terrible habits I've developed since being in Africa waiting for constructive work to develop at my organization. A decade ago I knew I would be a defense attorney holding up the side of law few glamorize yet I found noble. I grew up and spent a handful of years rambling through college, which by the end I thought I knew where I wanted to desire myself. I would surely marry after I finished grad school and found a decent job with an international NGO and live a life less ordinary but still with hints of Rockwell as Americana would seep through the edges of rebellion as fresh zeal for the world would turn to concerns about school districts and the inevitable soccer game. Even six months passed, I knew where I need to be. I would seek my life in Africa trying to find salvation through the faces of those in mire and slowly sink into the daily works as I embrace my footing amongst all. Now I'm 24 nearing 90days in the bush and my hair has grown longer, beard is full, eyes quite haggard, head more heavy, grin a little less crooked, and heart more wrenched with disbelief. Sleep seems some sinister game made by a jester and he's informed all but me. I know I can win if I just slow the fidgeting of the strings of the mind. I'm sitting in a community hall waiting for a Domestic Violence to commence and I know without dissatisfaction or anxiety that this is not where I expected to be 6 months ago, let alone years. What sets this moment in obscurity from all the dusty blips on my path which moved my hand to door number two is that I have no vision of where I should be anytime in the future...and I currently don't mind it.
