Anybody's Guess

When I first moved here and I didn’t have a single acquaintance in the country, everyone told me that the first three months are the hardest. Again and again I was warned about those first three months. I was told that chances are I’d be perfectly fine friends with all the other months, but those first three – they were untrustworthy and I should watch out for them.

Well? It’s totally true. Those first 14 weeks or so were rather bullying and gave me a rough time. But now that I am ensconced in month four I am much happier. And busier. I have a life. Plenty of projects. Tons of toil and lots of labor and an abundance of amusement and friends.

But. This is such a weird profession that I am trying to be a part of.

I’ve been here four months and I have ten more weeks to go and it is time to start looking for my next position – my next “first three months”.

When I’ve been an expat I have always lived in sub-Saharan Africa. There are 54 diverse countries on this continent (out of a total of 198ish countries on our small blue earth) so I realize how ridiculous this broad generalized statement is (but when is love not irrational?): I love Africa.

Or, at least: I love Basse Santu Su; the lovely city of Addis Ababa; communal Kitgum; crazy Goma; beautiful small Harar; dusty hot loud vibrant Cairo; the huge birds in downtown Kampala; feeling safe enough to hitchhike in The Gambia and in Djibouti; wearing flip flops all the time; tailors and bright lovely clothes; all my friends; all those kids; etc. Etc etc etc.

I need a job with a salary. I need to begin my career. I can’t play volunteer intern associate assistant forever. So? So I have started to consider the possibility that the job I will be able to find may not be on this continent, this place AFRICA that I foolishly feel like I “know”, that I presumptuously imagine I somehow am a part of, that I love.

The opening that makes sense for my career – I want to be in HUMANITARIAN AID – may be in Asia. Or elsewhere. In three months I will probably be relaxing in Pittsburgh. In four months I could live anywhere.

Or maybe they’ll keep me here.

It’s really anybody’s guess.