First off: Why am I posting this? This is not an uplifting blog about changing the world. This is about how I'm having a tough time right now. This is not to scare you, future PCV or PCV parent. This is not to have some great moral of the story. It's just what's going on with me, and I need to tell about it. Because my Normal reaction to things is to share with everyone I can. I like to talk things out. So the fact that I haven't wanted to tell people about this means that it really is tough for me. So this is my attempt at a little self-therapy. Tell the world what I'm going through and hope it helps me help myself.
It's been an emotional roller coaster here. I got into Conakry last Thursday night expecting to leave on Saturday. I was planning on working on the Peer Support Network training that we plan to do at G21's (that's the group after me) in-service training in a few weeks. I was sitting outside my director's pool, sipping limeade and eating chocolate chip cookies, when suddenly, out of no where, a man came sprinting around the house, wild-eyed and headed straight towards me. He tackled me to the ground and then refused to let me go, though he wasn't moving or trying to hurt me...he seemed to be using me as a shield against another stranger who had rushed into the scene trying to beat him with a stick. Four Guineans pulled his arms off me and I ran away to sit down. At the moment I was attacked, I felt like he wanted to hurt me.
It was clear the man was a "fou", a street person with mental illness, drug addiction, or both. Fous are found nearly everywhere in Guinea. As we pieced it together, it seems that the man had gone crazy trying to escape being beaten by his "brother" and therefore had broken into the neighbor's property, climbed on the roof, and jumped over the fence and razor-wire into the compound. I was just in his path. There is no system to deal with him, so though he was taken into custody, I suspect there will be no treatment for him. He wasn't targeting me, he wasn't being malevolent. I believe I was just in his way, and he saw that I could shield him from pain.
I was a little bruised, so negligeable damage physically, thankfully. We could have very easily gone into a cement column. Mentally, it's a bit more complicated. While I was oscillating between laughter and tears initially, it wore off quickly into a bizarre moment that didn't seem to have much bearing on how I felt. However, last Sunday, facing going back to site and being around other fous, I discovered that it had effected me more that I expected. I felt fearful and panicky, weak and fragile. I stayed in Conakry a few days longer to stabilize. During this time, I found out that a friend's friend at site had died in a tire accident. Though I didn't know him, his death affected me a lot. It contributed to my fear of senseless bad things happening to me or people I care about.
I went back to site on Tuesday, which basically ruined my entire week of school, since my kids all left Wednesday early, thinking I was still gone. Things were pretty dandy all week. Ran into my familiar fous, felt fine. Had some nervous moments, felt significant fear of things like cars accidentally hitting me or bad things happening to my family, but figured it was just some paranoia.
Friday was my birthday! Hurrah! Went to a nearby city and had a great meal at a morroccan place. The owner gave me a real cake! And a necklace and earrings! And we had beer on tap and even a shot of rum. Quite the celebration. Back at my site, my family made a big meal for me and we all ate and I gave a speech and there was a bit of music and dancing. It was a great day.
Saturday I was having stomach issues (not a rare moment, especially considering the sour-tasting ice cream i ate from a street vendor) so I stayed inside all day.
Sunday I spent leisurely listening to the BBC, drinking coffee, doing cross-stitch. Then I needed to head out to go get lunch at the market. La dee da, regular stuff. But as I walked to the market, I started feeling overly emotional and sensitive to things. Thinking about my parents, hoping they can be around my kids when I settle down. Thinking about my neices. Worrying that by a fluke my friend might have been in the karaoke club in Korea that burned down. I was like "Keep it together, Mary. Just get your shopping done." Then, on my way to the market, a young man passing me offered up both hands for a handshake--a friendly move. However, he was dressed all in black and the movement was sudden and startled me. I flinched, apologized profusely, and found myself on the verge of tears. Keeping it together got a little harder.
I walked back fast, trying to avoid the endless greetings that happen on every walk. I envisioned myself in a field of flowers in Switzerland. I started counting steps. I started trying to generate random numbers. I kept it together and drew close to my house. I stopped to greet my host dad and brother, who were setting up electricity poles (whhhaaaaat? irrelevent detail). And my host dad said "Did you hear about the accident this morning? Five people..." "Five people died?" I asked, hoping that this worst-case scenario would get a no as an answer. Instead, he said "Yes, all dead." Strangely, my reaction was to say "I'm fine" in English, then run away, through the garden in front of my house, leaping over plants and holes and arriving, hyperventilating, at my front door. I honestly couldn't remember how it opened. Somehow I managed to get inside and succumbed to what I can only describe as a panic attack. After I started breathing normally again, thanks to another volunteer on the phone, I called our doctor and he sent me a car to bring me in to the capital (again...)
So here I am, back in the capital, waiting to talk to a counselor from Washington. I still feel what the internet tells me is anxiety--fear that bad things will happen. The bad part is that, well, bad things do happen in Guinea. Car accidents are common. Child mortality is not negligeable. Unexpected fous can emerge over a wall (see? humor! Dealing! Wooo!). Dealing with death is part of life in Guinea. Before I was attacked, I had come up with a philosophy for facing it. I could, you know, see it in the Circle of Life. But right now my brain feels a lot like a snowglobe, with lots of disembodied thoughts floating around, and it's going to take some time to settle down. The challenge now is being nice to myself while I'm out of sorts, dealing with mental issues in a country with no understanding of psychology, and finishing the school year.
TL;DR: I got tackled by a crazy man running from a beating and am now experiencing significant anxiety.
Silver linings: It will be a funny story sometime in the future. I've gotten lots more internet than planned. I was around to support a friend when she found out her friend died. I had potatoes au gratin today.
