Whenyouwriteasentenceyouincludespacestohelpitmakesense. Or rather, when you write a sentence you include spaces to help it make sense. This holiday has been such a space. Gone were the long walks provoking introspection, the desire to hole up under a mosquito net, the continual sense of accidentally offending someone as cultures collide, the checking every sentence for British English idioms that don't translate to West African English, needing to spell out each thought because the hints used at home don't work and knowing I am also misreading those hints from new friends, the need to back fill information to new friends in each story.
For three weeks I have had instead barely a free moment, luxurious beds providing the deepest sleep of the year, other people's stories unfolding that, on my return, I too will be a part of. I have argued about who gets to pay for comedy clubs, drinks, dinner, cocktails and transport. I have played with children who aren't equally terrified of and intrigued by my skin colour or "cat eyes". I have had my make up professionally done and blow dried my hair, as well as drank many pints in old man pubs with my favourite oldmanpub company, mum, Mags, Helen, Chris and Lizzie. I've walked into art in the shape of a big blue cockerel* (is it a comment on Boris?) and in landscaped gardens picnicking with Kath and Aodhan. I've caught up on politics, bikes and swapped advice with Irene. I've taken a turn around a lido and eaten roast dinner with Anna, opulently opting for ice cream. Kate, Al and I have laughed at realising that for the first time we're all currently both committed to employment but actually unwaged. I've depleted Suzi's wine stock and been reminded what it is to renovate a house, been escorted round supermarkets to get provisions I now know will make a difference to daily life. I've eaten with my family and enjoyed hearing details of their lives, singing old songs and swapping stories. I've seen good friends marry and danced dramatically in a castle, having a perfume fight as if we were teenagers once again. I've missed seeing two particular families but spoken to them and shared woe, work, worries and joys. I've travelled around England and I have laughed and cried with those people I love, advised and been advised, sung and been spoiled.
In short I have had a holiday in my own life. It has been busy and a slightly condensed version of what I usually do as I didn't have to fit work in. And through that I have realised that I love my life, the friendships we have built and the family I live in. Through the break in life in Gambia and the space to stop thinking and analysing decisions have crystallised and I have a sense of purpose and direction again. I'm so excited about it that working hard in Gambia will be the only way to distract from being only at the very beginning of a long path. I am back to myself. As was observed "I know you're better, your ranting about important things rather than things which don't matter".
Gambia, see you very soon. It'll be lovely and fun and busy. I'll make a hundred mistakes and get cross for no apparent reason. I'll rant occasionally and continue my reputation for being "a bit horrible". I'll find parties and evenings and spend time on the beach and think hard about what I can concoct in the kitchen. I'll ask whoever's around most questions in my head, and will work hard to share those skills I have at a pace which suits us both. We'll explore more ideas, paths and possibilities. UK, thank you for my space to think.
* never go for a pun that's that easy
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