'goodnight dear void'

Dear friend,

This past weekend was ridiculously chilled. After our epic evening dancing in the moonlight Friday, Saturday consisted of a lie-in (= British colloquialism for 'sleep-in'), pies from the nearby bakery, a film and an early night. It rained for the first time in a couple weeks, a reminder that the rainy season isn't over quite yet. And Sunday was even more relaxed. Another sleep-in followed by brunch out on the terrace of the cliffside restaurant we went to on Friday night -- coffee, pancakes, scrambled eggs, mhmm... followed by an afternoon at a 4-star beachside resort out in the tourist-y part of town (they let you use the pools for free if you order some drinks/food). A bit unsettling to experience that kind of luxury in a country where education/healthcare isn't a given, a similar feeling to what I've described previously re- bargaining on purchases that are already, compared to back home, indescribably cheap (and for which I would normally pay way more than the highest price asked for here). Haven't quite reconciled myself to all this yet... but I guess that didn't stop me from spending the afternoon beachside in movie-like luxury. Ironically enough literally two minutes after we arrived it started to pour down with rain -- torrential, for two hours, complete with booming thunder and flashes of lightening. It was beautiful to watch from the open-air pool lounge and, in the end, only added to the chilled out tone of the day. My friend and I even dared to go for a swim in the rain which was great fun; there was some crazy conversation in the pool though -- on retrospect, I think the two of us were going a bit insane. The insanity continued back home where, during a dinner of Pringle Chips and Dairy Milk Chocolate, the conversation was so ridiculous and funny I laughed like I haven't laughed in YEARS. The two girls who are here with me now have become such dear friends, they will be painfully missed.

It's so strange to think about what a different person I've become here -- a person who I didn't know I had in me to be. Someone who is relaxed, and chilled, and cooks for people, and convinces others to spend a couple hours at the beach in hammocks with a cool drink in hand at the end of the day. Increasingly I have found myself thinking, 'WHAT am i doing here? Who is this person?' I now know what it feels like not to be constantly inundated with work and busy-ness; what it feels like not to be so highly strung -- and that, actually, that's okay. I thought I'd be coming here to 'accomplish' something... but rather, it's been one of the most amazing Life experiences ever.

Chatting to one of the girls on Sunday about this person I've become here, we wondered what it will be like once I'm back home. Is this person purely a product of environment and circumstance? Will I get home and, like a light-switch, flick back to the person I was ten weeks ago? Already I am making plans and commitments (via email) for my return which, undoubtedly, will make my first year out as a doctor more busy than for most. Plans and commitments which I am excited about -- opportunities that are too good to pass -- but which, undoubtedly, will require me to be the busy, efficient, work-focussed woman I am all too familiar with. Will this experience, here in The Gambia, create some sort of... middle ground? Are these two different versions of myself mutually exclusive, or is some degree of compromise possible?

I don't really want any answers... just sending these questions out to the void. I guess I'll find out soon enough. But I am excited that in a year's time I will be reflecting on the crazy, unexpected adventures of life post-West Africa.

Always,

-A