Just moving

If you were to stand outside my door, you’d think Alex was still around. Since she moved to Praia a week ago, to start her extended third year in Peace Corps working with a public radio station, the conversation has continued as if she never left.

Have you ever thought about how much of one’s day is filled with conversation? When I wake up and make myself decent, I converse with myself about what I have to do that day -- I plan, I note, I make something to eat. Once I walk out the door, I’m prepared to speak with people - prepared to put my own thoughts on pause and make conversation with the people I will see that day.

“Modi ki bu sta?” How are you? I ask everyone on the way to work.
“So na moviment, bo?” Just moving, you?
“Sem, mi tambe, so na moviment.” Yep, me too, just moving.

When I get to school, I converse with my students, then dilly around with the solar project – talk with other professors, get materials, plot with Nick how we’ll will attack the next step, and so on.

After the sun runs its course, I return to my house. Earlier, I would prepare myself to talk for hours on end about my feelings, why people act like they do, or something else aspiringly intelligent with Alex. But now things are different. I come home prepared to go head first into an evening of meditation: hours of self-directed thoughts reflecting on the day, preparing for the next, thinking how simple life can be and how complicated it sometimes is, and thinking about how awesome it’s gonna be when the young open-minded Internet-savvy generation makes their way into the workforce. Basically, I sit around and chew on the things that enter my head.

So if you happen to be within earshot of the green apartment in Achada Riba, don’t be shocked if you hear me talking to myself. I’m just a peaceful resident trying to respect the thoughts that are often times not listened to enough.