When I first arrived in Burkina I had a lot of trouble sleeping. Why? Well, lots of reasons: heat, sickness, goats, baby goats, prayer-calls, cows, cockroaches, sheep, sheets, roof noises (thatched = creepy crunching and random rustling; tin = thunderous thumping and screechy scurrying) lumpy beds, hungry bed-bugs, itchy bug-bites, heat rash, and well, STRESS! So, ultimately, lack of sleep was my biggest challenge during training.
I distinctly remember the first time I cracked: It was about three weeks in and I had just fallen ill with the amoeba (although we wouldn't know it for another two weeks) and I hadn't slept for two nights. So when one friend asked me if I was feeling ok (why was he ALWAYS asking how I feel?!) I snapped: I'm freaking* FINE! -- now picture Jesse Spano from "Saved by the Bell" on the episode where she gets hooked on methamphetamines -- I'm just... soo... TIRED... sob... choke... oohh waa ha huh...
The way I remember it: when it was a reasonably late enough to go to sleep my host sister showed me to bed and shut the door. In retrospect: showed me how the door shut.
They gave me two sheets and a pillow so clearly I tucked my sheets, my mosquito net and myself into bed with sheet no. 2 draped over me. Because that's what sheets are for! In retrospect: what's with me and sheets? was I suicidal that night? or was it so genuinely hot that my brain had gone dead?
OOOOOOWWWHHHOOOOOAAAAOOOOOOOWWWWOOOOWWOOOW....
So I started to recall my research on Burkina Faso. What do I know about traditions in this country? They are Muslim, Christian and what was it - 30% Animist? Wait, did I not read somewhere that most everyone, despite their claimed religion, is an animist at heart? Could the family Tall be wailing about...ME? They are running in circles around my hut... Could this be some kind of freaky African welcoming blessing or worse - OMG - a curse??? Or maybe its a purifying ritual? But WAIT, OK -- maybe it is just an unrelated-to-me nightly household ritual. Oh God I hope not.
What do I do? Should I go outside? Should I call out something? Should I offer to participate and run the wailing circles alongside? What's culturally appropriate? No, I'm not moving. This is too wild. I've already had my door shut. But WHAT IS THIS??
which means:
YOU-MUSN'T-HAVE-FEAR-SOMEONE-IS-DEAD!
and she slammed the door in my face.
Needless to say I did not sleep much that night though I did learn the next day that the person they thought had died actually hadn't. What did I do that next morning? Who knows, I probably just went around to shake hands with everyone just like they taught me to- Good morning. How did you sleep? And your family? Your courtyard? Peace only! Peace throughout the night. Ha.
Now where do I go from here? Why didn't I write this story when it happened? I think I was a bit lost for words at the time... heck, maybe I thought it was a hallucination? It wasn't. But my sleeping troubles didn't end there. I tried staying inside with the door open, I tried moving outside into my tent with Yaneth's yoga mat, we even moved the mattress outside from time to time and hung my mosquito net from the straw hangar above. But nonetheless:
Princess Christina
I was first inspired to write this post 21 months ago after successfully (!) sleeping one night on a cement floor. The only thing between me and anything that crawled the night or lurked within the cracks of this filthy floor was a cheap woven plastic mat and a thin pagne draped over me (still with a sheet (!) man, old habits die hard/my mother would be proud.) The theme of the post was to be how very far I had come in six short months to realizing sleep under the most uncomfortable conditions. I slept on a concrete floor!
Princess Christina six months later.
At the time I felt had come to the absolute pinnacle of tough-girl sleeping. But the thing about Peace Corps is that you are always exceeding your own expectations. Where I have slept since then: on a mattress on the floor of my house; on mattresses on the floors of other people's houses; on a mattress on the floor of my porch; on my yoga mat on the floor of my house; on my yoga mat on the floor of my porch; alone outside on my cot; alone outside in a tent on a silver of a mattress, on a yoga mat and on the ground; and ON TRANSPORT.
So lets fast forward to just the other day - I was in my house sleeping on a thin mattress on the cot when I awoke to utter darkness and a bit too much heat. I went outside to pee only to discover that the crescent moon had set and the May stars were as visible as they EVER could be. It was also cooler outside than inside and I decided to get a thick blanket to throw over a thin mattress to put down on my termite-ridden, collapsed and rotten, wooden lounge-bed. Yes. This sorry excuse for a piece of furniture has lived the past two years outside in the elements since I value it that much. Once, when I had a Burkinabe guest, I absolutely marveled that he could lay a thin mattress on this dilapidated, disgusting ol' thing; cover it with a mosquito net and simply fall asleep! But I too took that final step just the other day. First, I adjusted the thing's position so as to see the greatest portion of the sky and then when I laid down - exhausted, cooler and more comfortable in the starry breeze than inside my house - I remembered: I never EVER thought I could fall asleep on this!
So I looked up at the stars, reflected on my progress, imagined finally writing this blog post and I never fell asleep. Later I got up and moved back inside where the original cot was waiting for me and I was glad to still think of myself as The Princess with The Pea. I was glad to know I haven't made all my progress yet. The next night I did sleep on that makeshift bed. So what is next? I have my aspirations and dreams...
HAHAHA... JUST KIDDING!! Here's what I'm really going for:
And I lived happily ever after...
* I didn't say "freaking".
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