BECAUSE ALL NORMAL PEOPLE HAVE A CONTAINER

Thursday, 13 January 2011, was the worst day of my life. At least that's what I thought at the time. Reasons... Moving? Leaving Gabon? Leaving the kids? Separating from Jandro for some time? No job? No flat? Wow, I could really get depressed, right? But no, it was not any of the above that made me sit down in the middle of my living room and cry like a baby. The monster that made me do it was the scariest one of all - and its name is Packing.

Let's face it, I had never been fond of packing. But this time was different. This time, the plan was daunting: to gather all of our earthly possessions and fit them into six suitcases, twenty-three kilogrammes (and God forbid half a kilo more!) each. We were to pack up our whole huge flat, give or throw away whatever we weren't taking with us, so that by the end of the day the big white flat were clean and tidy and big and white.

Right.

About three hours into packing, my crisis began. First, I felt anxious. I didn't know where to start from and I could not evisage the end of the whole process. It seemed to me that we would never leave Gabon, because we would simply not manage to pack.

Consequently, I decided it was time for some damage control. I thus sat down on the big white floor of the big white living room and gave way to the packer's rage. This having no effect on Jandro or the suitcase, which stubbornly refused to pack on its own, I moved on to the second stage: despair. A lot of crying followed, during which I requested a container (like all normal people... since when do I believe that all normal people are in a possession of a container anyway?). Finally, I stated firmly that I wasn't leaving. The statement was closely followed by stage three - resignation, or thoughless staring into the big white wall.

And then Jandro, the most peaceful, the most rational packer in the world (have you any idea how annoying this felt back then?), ignoring my blaming him for the lack of container that all normal people have, picked me up from the floor and took me out to buy an additional suitcase.

Slowly, the packing continued. By 5:30 pm we were nearly done and the world did not end. Six bags were filled with exactly 23 kilos of stuff each. The flat was as big and white as ever. That was it. We moved out.

And if I don't say it enough, here comes: my boyfriend rules! Totally.

A BIT OFF BALANCE

In case you are wondering how our adventure with the police ended, I must tell you it hasn't. However, after two visits to the insurance company ("Don't change your drawing, you're tampering with evidence!" and "Even if he hit you from behind it could've been your fault... did you leave enough space for the taxi?") and one visit to the police station ("You must fill in this form. However, we do not have a copy. We do not have a copying machine either."), we decided to just abandon the matter. Nobody will notice anyway.

And so, we work, we go to the gym and we go to the beach. We attend parties, have lunches, go for walks, see films and concerts and the French Cultural Centre and also try to decorate the flat. Everything's back to normal, I suppose, and the life is good. Gabon is a beautiful place and we are really lucky to be here. In spite of all this, I do have my blue moments. They are mostly due to two reasons:

1) French. I have reached a point where I can communicate my basic needs, have a conversation at a party and make small-talk with the guardians of my building. It's still not enough, of course. Many times I'm simply mute in this country. The frustration related to this is beyond description and I'm pretty sure I'm driving the people surrounding me absolutely nuts. For which I venture to hereby apologise in public.

2) I miss Poland. And Galicia. And when I leave Gabon, I will miss Poland and Galicia and Gabon. I miss Polish, too. A lot. But most of all, I miss the people. Here yet again, for the third time in two years, I must struggle to meet new friends and, fascinating as it always is, I feel a bit tired by the constant changing of milieu.

I sometimes get overwhelmed and forget about all the positive aspects of being here. I stay in bed, sulking. It's easy, it requires no effort. There are many people here who want to leave, who are very unhappy and frustrated. But it's not my intention to become one of them, no sir! This is a valuable, amazing experience and I will not let it become anything else. So let this post be my anti-sulking device. I promise to myself and my five faithful readers that I will do my best to stay positive. I will learn French, enjoy the beach, eat cookies, go to parties, have all the brochettes my organism can absorb and always remember that I have no real reason not to be happy. The life here is not exactly simple but that was what I signed up for and, after all, I have always been consequent. The promise has thus been made. I'm sending you a big smile.

PROS AND CONS

Well, here it is. A bit later than planned but finally the moment has come: I'm going to Libreville again, and the big day is 13 August, this Thursday. Of course, I'm terrified. People keep asking me why on Earth I want to do this. I try to explain but, well, let's settle this in writing.

The cons are obvious and many. I don't speak French. The political situation is of the very attractive "you-never-know" kind. The sea breeze reminds you of an open oven. I can't possibly get a good job out there. There's no MTV and no Supersweet Sixteen. I'm really far away from my family and friends. I'm probably gonna miss my flight and get stranded on Charles de Gaulle. And it seems like I'm simply going after a guy. And then there are the diseases. Yup, believe it or not, I'm aware of all this.

Why am I going then? I don't speak French but I will learn. And I like languages, you know that. The work situation is problematic but I do already have a job there and even though it's teaching again (and this bugs me a little) I really want to give it a go. To live in that country, to live the culture and get to know the people, to learn learn learn, it's very exciting. And if teaching is the means to do this, teaching it is! I don't think I'm ready to settle just yet. Being away from Poland does hurt me a bit - after all I've just got back. But maybe that's the way it has to be? I learned to appreciate Poland while I was in Galicia and this new-found patriotism is very exciting, too. I think it will grow stronger still in Africa and I'm looking forward to it. And yes, of course I'm going after a guy (check out the cute cute picture) but not entirely. It's Gabon because he's there, clearly, but I'm also going after my personal need for adventure, travelling, seeing the world and just being out there. And sharing it with the person I love.

So, here I come, Libreville! Hope these kids are ready for their new English teacher!

Oh, and I will keep you posted! :)