Que voy hacer? Je ne sais pas. Que voy hacer? Je ne sais plus. Que voy hacer? Je suis perdu. Que hora son mi corazon?

I have a family so far away from this spot. This spot. A messy dining room table that has dirty dishes, last week’s work, a French English dictionary, a salt shaker and random electronic cables. This spot. Thousands of miles away I have a mother that would tell me to clean it up. Thousands of miles away I have an older sister that would try not to say anything about this little mess because she knows how I hate being told what to do. I love them with all my heart. I miss them terribly even if I know they wouldn’t approve of this little clutter. But this pain, this longing, these watery eyes are emotions that I have come to see as blessings. Together they are a proof of a very real, selfless, lifelong love that has kept me inspired to reciprocate.

I have a family a lot closer too. Only a few feet away from this spot I have four mothers and one grandmother. I know they feel the same way about this dining room table as my biological elders. They would not approve but luckily I am very capable of hiding it from them. My four African mothers give me a very familiar look whenever I leave our home. They ask me when I’ll come back and where I’m going. Their curiosity is their caring concern. They protect me from what they can and I have nothing, nothing but love and admiration for them. When I get sick they care for me, when they see me limping they ask why, they make me tea and help me in any way they can. I will miss them terribly when my day of departure arrives.

My four African mothers, like my Mexican mother live away from their husbands. One mother lost her husband in an accident, one mother lost her husband to an illness, one mother lives away from her husband for financial reasons. All of these unique tragedies have brought us together. With all of these men gone I have filled a gap as a male role model to their children. It is a huge responsibility that I did not ask for but one that I have become very grateful for.

I cringe every time I hear little Amadou swear knowing he learned it from me. I feel pride when I read with little Sahabo and he actually sounds the words out like I taught him to. I smile when Laminou puts me in check when we play chess. I gladly lend out my books to Djwaira (she is the first in her class, not because of me though). I love that I can make little Sarifa or Sadia stop crying just by just picking them up. 16 year old Aboubakar shares his love life with me and asks for advice. I have two sisters thousands of miles away but here, only a few feet away I have fifteen other siblings. I love every single one of them and it makes me realize something completely new. This revelation will influence future decisions. I don’t know how much my heart will be able to bear living in so many places. I will leave so many loved ones everywhere I go and I’ll begin to stack up all of these new family members all over the world and not know when I’ll see them again. Even in this ever connecting world a Facebook response won’t be enough. I have no idea how I will handle this.

I call my four mothers here my Dadas. Dada in Fulfulde means mama. The Dadas make me breakfast every morning. Its funny, one of the skills I wanted to work on during my service was to improve my cooking skills but they insist on feeding me every morning. Tea and rice, I cut avocadoes and sometimes put eggs or beans to spice it up. I love this breakfast. It constantly reminds me of grandmother’s breakfasts in Mexico. To show my gratitude to my Dadas I usually do one of the following: bring them fruits or veggies when I get back from Meiganga (carrots, lettuce, watermelon, bananas, coconuts, pineapples), every now and then I’ll surprise them with a chicken or a carton of eggs, when I get back from Yaounde I bring them something small but special (last time I brought them a peeler for when they peel potatoes or yams). They have never asked for anything, sometimes they’ll sneakily guide my decisions on what I’ll bring them but they have never, not once, asked for anything.

I am happy here. Living here has been one of the happiest times of my life. This happiness stems from the jokes and good times I spend with my family but more significantly from the lessons I learn from my challenges and quarrels with them. 

 I reward my siblings with money depending on how good their grades are. I told them that I would only agree to this if they pay me money on the bad grades that they get (I used to do this with my father). They agreed. Little Amadou came home with his grades a few days ago and they were not good. His brothers and cousins did great but he only earned 200 CFA. He refused the money and I got angry with him. I told him that if he didn’t accept the money he was not allowed to come in my house until he apologized. For the first few days he ignored me and I him. I decided to tag along with the kids to the creek to read as they washed their clothes. Amadou hurt his arm and I set my ego aside and asked him where it hurt. He refused to tell me and told me that I was not his brother and I should bugger off. It hurt to hear that, I turned into a child for a split moment and retorted, “You’re right, I’m not your brother, what do I care if your arm is broken?!” I walked off swearing under my breath in anger. I think the Dadas saw for what I’m hoping is the first time just how young I still am that day. They also saw their kid, Amadou, openly and severely disrespect me. I have never hit the kids but the Dadas do it whenever they see fit. Amadou got it bad that night and still did not apologize. I knew he wouldn’t, I know this little trouble maker pretty well so I have punished him way worse. Everyone but him has been playing Game Boy, watching movies and playing with the blocks in my living room. It has slowly been breaking him. He knows he’s one of my favorites, he is also much loved by the volunteers near me so I told him I would inform the other volunteers how much he disrespected me and that they should not talk to him. Finally I told him I would not forgive him until he wrote me an apology with a signature. He has not done so yet but I know he will and when he does I will give him my apology too. I didn’t mean what I said to him and I’ll remind him that I will forever be his older brother. I’ll apologize for my impatience and pray that he’ll learn from my mistake.

With family comes all of the ups and downs. I know not all families are perfect but could it be that the line between love and hate gradually shifts slowly removing hate all together? Amadou is a bright kid, I know he'll apologize. I mean how could he not? I learned that lesson when my older sister apologized to me. Here are some pics of my family.

 Yaouba scratching his head as Ibrahim approves of tonight's dinner

 Represent

 Most of these pictures were not taken by me, from what the kids leave on my camera I have noticed that Aissatou loves self-portraits.

 Bouba and Oumarou

 I'm hoping Sahabo becomes an engineer and thanks me later for teaching him how to do this.

 Amadamadou and me before our bickering

 "A meat lover's medium sized please, wait, what do you mean you don't deliver to Meidougou?"

The Dada's have agreed to making sure these two don't get married unless I approve of their suitors.

April 1, 2012