alone in the dark

Last weekend was my first weekend home alone in Guinea (T was in Sierra Leone on business) and I had been bracing myself for something unexpected. Maybe it was the ominous sky we'd had the night before.

Maybe it was the fact that the scary things always happen when T's away. Maybe I was just bored and hoping for something dramatic... But the doors and windows were locked tight each night.

In Le Résidence, our apartment is just one little anonymous cubicle in one of six, eight-story buildings. As I sat around, waiting for something unexpected to happen, I got to thinking about how many very strange people must live above, below and beside me in a curious mix of expatriates and rich Guineans.

And curious is the word, because once these people start talking about their lives past and present, I can't seem to pull myself away. Red Cross workers driving Czech Tatra 8-wheelers into the depths of the Congo to perform emergency surgery on rebels. Kidnap victims who shrug their shoulders and say it was only 36 hours. Lawyers working to free prisoners held for years after the papers were signed granting their release. People who've been spied on by third-world governments. Others who can't say why they're here because it's classified. In short, people living life on the edge.

There, alone in the dark, reflecting on all this, I got to realizing how very far from the edge I am in comparison, safely tucked away in the apartment, one little ant in the farm. I got to realizing how very in the dark I actually am, and probably always will be when this realization wins the prize for the most unexpected event of my weekend.