Relief

It was time for the big task. Boniface was finally at the monastery, had a free moment, and Colin and I were both healthy and up for talking…however apprehensive we were beforehand. We bought him a beer and sat down after dinner and started the 2-hour bitchfest. NO we didn’t actually turn our one chance at improving our situation into a rant about how frustrating life had been up to that point, in fact neither of us said a negative thing the entire time. It wasn’t the most eloquently spoken conversation (*achem – Colin). We got our point across, but I am sure most of the subtleties were lost on the broken French combo search for the right word in English to fill the gap talking style. And not to say that I was anything close to Proust, but my main point about communication difficulties was definitely, inadvertently emphasized when we switched off talking.
Surprisingly, everything that we said was already known by Boniface, at least the overbearing undertones. He listened to us and put together as much as he could (his English is proficient, but probably his 5th or 6th language). Afterwards he graciously accepted our commentary and added the information that we purposely left out (the ranting and raving pieces). He admitted that we had indeed fallen through the cracks during the power changeover. The monks had heard of the program only briefly, but no one outside of Boniface knew the intricacies. Subsequently, our arrival was overlooked, the monastery was unprepared for us, the director of the school (who was supposed to be “in charge” of us did blow off the appointment on account of “not being the leadership/take the charge type (direct quote),” the new prior knew absolutely nothing about us, and all of the other difficulties of living here were described as some of the worst in Africa (referring to being located in the heart of the countryside of an impoverished 3rd world country without reliable electricity/water and without a decent phone or internet connection). This all came straight from the mouth of the founder of the monastery. I was pleasantly surprised. Most of the frustration that I had built up (and still have) was brought up without me having to say a single thing outside of one word – communication.

Things are far from solved, however. The first baby step has been taken and the problems (which are mutual, by no means is it all on the monastery) are known. And Boniface has promised to talk to the prior more in depth about the situation to make him aware of our program. He is also going to recommend one of the monks to be the program supervisor, which we have desperately needed at times considering the lack of mutual communication. And as for our part, that falls to me. My new “job” along with the garden and teaching, is to finish building the foundation for the program here. I will be talking to monks and teachers to educate them on my purpose, which is more than just teaching English as everyone had previously thought. I will also be working with the supervisor to make sure that he is set on the things that will be expected of him in his dealings with future volunteers, and I will be setting up an official pen pal scholarship program for the students at the school (more to come on this later). After I have finished I will be leaving. As most at SJU will tell you I work quickly and intelligently, it will not take long. While I will not be home in time for Christmas (I feel your pain sitting in that foot deep snow as I am cruising around Agbang at a chill 86F, and yes I did wear a pants and a long sleeve shirt for a better part of the day), I will most likely be spending my first birthday at home in 5 years and possibly even Easter.

And at the end of it I will be satisfied. I came halfway around the world to a 3rd world country to work in the countryside building a foundation, and I have done and am continuing to do it from under the floorboards after slipping through the cracks before I ever set foot in Africa.