Duct tape should do it, right?!

Yes, I’m still up on the roof.  I suddenly realize it’s been almost three weeks since I’ve written a post for my blog; where did the time go? Everyone expressed envy at the plethora of leisure  hours I would have once I began.  I remember thinking the same thing as I contemplated my time on the roof.

I pictured myself learning and practicing meditation.  Quietly re-reading favorite biographies. Peacefully writing short stories from my development experiences.  Languidly contemplating the air around me. It all sounded so idyliic in my head as I anticipated my free time on the roof.

The reality?  How to adequately describe the madness of my days?  Here goes…

Edmonds sits peacefully on the waterfront where ferries cross the Puget Sound delivering cars and habitants to the Olympic Peninsula. My roof is right in the middle of a corridore that funnels wind from the ocean to the hillside bowl of Edmonds.

What this means is that tiny wind gusts become exaggerated and the ensuing flapping of my tent causes frequent wakeful nights.  Imagine  adding rain to the equation and one has a formula for Maslow’s basic needs heirarchy: safe shelter.

Much of my time lately has been spent securing tent flaps. Anchoring wind-whipped tarps to prevent rain from creeping into my home for the past 100 days; my tent. If there’s an open nook or cranny, the rain soaked wind will find it.  Let’s just say that towels and brooms and tarps have become my best friends. Not to mention duct tape!

Never thought wind could cause sleepless nights.  It does.

I wake after tossing and turning most of the hours dedicated to sleep, to find it mid-morning. I reluctantly exit my warm cocoon to face the day.  Walnut street Cafe has lovingly prepared and volunteer Carol Collier has delivered my morning latee.  I clean my porta potty and begin daily tasks which include: bookkeeping, product inventory and ordering, volunteer scheduling, meals management, phone calls and  a regular plethora of 60 -80 daily emails.

IS IT POSSIBLE TO DECLARE EMAIL BANKRUPTCY?   If so may I be the first to sign up?  I haven’t had an empty email inbox since late 2002, the last time I had a vacation.  Is 500 emails normal?  Shall I sign up for techno-therapy immediately?

I thought technology was intended to make our lives easier?  at least more efficient? I never realized how much technology could complicate and cause life stress!  Used to be one could contemplate an answer for several days before responding. Then write a letter.  Hand signed even.  Ah I long for the good ol’ days.

One reason I enjoy working in developing countries is that I slow down.  I slow down enough to re-discover  breathing. To pause. To contemplate.  Life in an African village is rich.  We have much to learn about that wealth in this country.

One of our foundation projects is to support the expansion of a credit cooperative 5 hours by  truck in the Senegalese desert northeast of Dakar, Senegal. The credit cooperative, run by Treasurer/Manager Cherif Sow, serves 7 villages surrounding Ndiaw Ndiaw Village.

Cherif would walk hours and hours between the 7 villages, collecting loan

Cherif walks, bringing credit union services village to village

payments and member savings plus solving member challenges throughout the seven villages. Cherif Sow was hired by the credit cooperative because he reads and writes and can effectively manage daily operations and record-keeping.

After working with Ndiaw Ndiaw village for several weeks, I became a ‘family’ member to the Board President and his family with whom I lived.   Over the years I kept in touch as we funded several institution building projects.

One grant request in particular would save time and energy for Treasurer/Manager Cherif Sow, allowing him to travel more efficiently between villages:  funds to purchase a horse.  Fabric of Life Foundation duly sent a $500 grant to fund the transportation purchase.

I remember thinking what a shame to add that Western sense of urgency when the walks between villages were a peaceful time for contemplation.  But then I wasn’t the one walking  hours a day.

Two weeks after the grant was sent I received a telephone call.  By the ‘fuzzy’ connection, I knew it was coming from overseas. Didn’t realize how far until I heard Cherif Sow’s voice in French,  “Mme Carol? C’est Cherif Sow.  Je vous telephone pour vous remercier pour le cheval.” The thank you for the horse was obvious as I heard the neighing and clop clop through the phone.

“Where are you?” I asked.  “Almost home” came the reply. “Wait, Cherif.  How can you be home?”  Home is 3 hours into the desert far from electricity!  ”Ah, Miss Carol, we called to thank you for the grant for transportation.  You actually sent us enough for both a horse ~ and a cell phone!”

Just when I thought I’d escaped technology.  <sigh>   “At the sound of the horses hoofs, please record your message.”

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