Grieving

I'm having a hard time right now.  I had a great time at the baptism, but I'll talk about that a little later.  For now, I'll talk about Caleb.  I got a text from him on my way home from the baptism explaining that he thought it would be best if we didn't talk again until I get back to the U.S.  There was an email from him waiting for me when I got home, and then I called to discuss things with him.  I understand that he's been having a much harder time than me being apart, but our priorities are different.  He wants to be able to move on and see other people.  I don't particularly want to move on and I'm indifferent at best about seeing other people.  Not talking will be hard for both of us, but it will help him attain what he wants without doing anything for my goals.  Also, he can read my blog if he wants to know what's going on in my life.  I have no way of doing the same.

Today marks the first day of five months of no contact with Caleb, who's been a fundamental part of my life for the last year.  Today also marks exactly one year since our first date.  I bet he doesn't remember that.

So now we're going to watch Erica go through Kubler-Ross's Six Stages of Grief.

Stage one: Denial
This one happened after I got the text but before I talked to him on the phone.  This is the part where I was telling myself that he would change his mind after we talked.  Clearly, in this stage, I forgot about how stubborn he is.

Stage two: Anger
This is where I am right now.  Not only is cutting off contact NOT conducive to having a future with someone, it's also not fair to the other person and it's selfish.  I realize he has to put himself first just like everyone else, but there are better ways of doing that.  I think it's stupid that he's dealing with the fact that we're both still in love with each other by pushing me further and further away, rather than listening to what he feels.  I know he's had bad experiences with long distance relationships, but I'm not that girl.  It doesn't have to be that way.

Things to look forward to: Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance

Now for the baptism.

We were planning to leave at 11:00 am for downtown, where we'd catch the bus to Kaolack.  Naturally, we didn't leave until 12:15-ish, and didn't get on the bus until about 1:15.  Someone had taken all our seats, so we were standing awkwardly when the bus started moving until they figured out who to kick off.  Our seats, when we got to use them, were fold-out seats in the aisle.  The backs of the seats came up to about the bottom of my shoulderblades, and there wasn't much padding on them.  The man to my right had a stutter and I'm not sure he spoke any French, but he seemed determined to talk to me.  I tried to understand him for a while, and then got frustrated and started trying to ignore him instead.  Then later, I looked  down and saw a spider on my lap.  I quickly brushed it away--it was a jumping spider!  It went hopping all over my area while I silently freaked out.  It was hot, and there was very little breeze on the bus.  The ride was 6 hours.  That was a new level of discomfort for me.

We got in and had "lunch" (by then it was about 8) and dinner was maybe an hour later.  Both were delicious, but would have been better if they'd been spaced out more.  We made attaya that night, which was a lot of fun.  Katy's "uncle" (he's in his late 20s) is vulgar and flirtatious, but he's also really funny.  It's interesting--a lot of "stylish" men here dress in styles that we consider gay in the U.S.

On Saturday morning, we were supposed to go back to the big house where the baptism was happening at 8:00.  I woke up at 7, and our house was dead silent.  I decided to wait around until I heard some movement, which wound up being about 8:30.  Then I had a hypoglycemic attack, then Amadou had to get a haircut, then we finally got to the house at 10:30.  We'd missed the actual ceremony, unfortunately.  They taped it, though, so we'll get to see it.  For now, I can describe what happens at a Muslim baptism.

The baptism is actually more of a naming ceremony.  They bring out the baby and two sheep, and they kill the sheep and then whisper in the baby's ears what its name is.  This baby is now a Muhammad, just like his father.  Then they dance and sing and serve lakh, a hot cereal with yogurt on it.

I slept in a bedroom for a bunch of hours, and Katy and Alyssa joined me for the end.  Then we socialized, ate lunch and dinner (peas!!!), and went home to sleep.  We went back Sunday morning for breakfast (bread with a chocolate spread like Nutella, but made with peanuts, and coffee) and lunch (cheb bu jen!), which were delicious.

Coming back, we decided to hire a car rather than taking the bus.  The family said it would be more comfortable and take half the time, and it was only 1.5 times the price!  They were wrong on both counts, though.  They stuck the three of us toubab girls in the way back with our bags, so we didn't have enough space to move our legs at all.  The car didn't stop at all (the bus stopped for lunch) and there was exhaust leaking in, so I felt a little queasy from breathing fumes.  6 hours later, we got home.  Enter drama with Caleb.

Also, sharing a bed with Alyssa, who's sick, got me sick.  So now I have a cold, I didn't get any sleep last night, I'm not allowed to talk to one of my closest friends, and I'm pretty depressed.

Oh, and Youssou is mad at me for going out this weekend.

I'm pretty sure this week will get better.  I'm looking forward to that.