Last Day

Sunday 9:40 am


First off, Happy Birthday to bannoubunkacoby!!

Liz had wanted to go over into Gisenyi today, but I decided after last night that I really wanted to spend my last day with the chimps, and nowhere else. I spent from 6:30 am on with them this morning, and then the last 30 minutes packing all my worldly goods.

Last night was sort of incredible, and I've been filled with this additional reverence for the relationships I've formed here. I put the chimps to bed -- Okeysha and Kanabiro -- and Kanabiro uncharacteristically fell asleep right away, nestled into my arm. Okeysha, intent on still being important, curled into my back. So I was a Sleeping Chimpanzee Sandwich.

I felt so happy, so intoxicated with the smell of chimpanzee (which thankfully masked the smell of urine on the mattress) that I had Liz go get my camera so that I could capture the moment forever. I worry how "professional" my copious picture taking is, and what she'd think of it, but at that moment, I didn't care and knew I'd regret it if I didn't get the shot.

This morning was really nice -- Etaito is still determined to act as bad as possible while Liz is here, tormenting and biting her. She and I got our belly beads at the same time, and she'd managed to keep her strands all through Cameroon. Mine have been the only jewelry I've worn this entire time here, and, although my pants falling down exposes them and the chimps have grabbed them from time to time, I'd managed to keep my little memento of my first week in Uganda.

Anyway, Etaito almost got them today, and when I scolded him, he bit me hard. Ha! Goodbye, sucker! [says he]

What's fun though is to see how much they've all learned and changed since I arrived. I always play this game with him where I blow air into his mouth right after I've brushed my teeth. He likes the smell, but today, I blew on him, and he blew back. He'd never done that before! I was so thrilled and proud that I squished him in a big hug.

Liz has actually been nice to have around, and, eating at Lebanese together two nights in a row, Primus has definitely lubricated our friendship. I'm still wary, but I'm really amazed and pleased with how well it's all gone. I mean, we're sharing a teensy tiny room, and I'm sleeping on the couch, and things could be just awful. But they're not, and it makes me happy.

I cracked up today when Etaito dangled from one of the ropes we have up and hung there, peeing onto the ground 2 feet below. Very smart!!

I will spend the rest of the day playing now that I'm packed, too. And taking MORE photos, of course. I feel really at peace.

Mother?

Saturday 7:32 pm

For the first time, I cried tonight at the thought of leaving the chimps. I was sitting outside with Okeysha and Etaito, and he was calming down since Liz, the new toy, had gone into the house and was no longer around to torment.

It was dusk, the sky blue with twilight, and the lights of the radio tower next door were just flickering on, red and bright. Okeysha was already falling asleep, and Kanabiro was sprawled across my shins.

Etaito was sitting in the crook of my left arm, and as I looked down, he twitched his mouth, making his "tired" face, reached up his arms around my neck and pulled himself closer to me, nuzzling himself into my armpit and pressing his face tightly into my breast.

I looked into his little face as he looked into mine -- so trusting, so "loving" if I even dare to assign such a weighted verb...

I could not imagine not seeing his face again. Or feeling him pressed into my chest. Or even having my jeans covered with a slobbery mixture of powdered milk and cerelac (a sort of formula) from Okeysha's messy bottle-eating.

I felt so at ease, and so happy, and I'll admit that, after extended periods of time with only chimpanzees, it does feel strange having to revert to all-verbalized conversation forms. A look, a touch (of cotton?) ... each thing means so much, and having the chimpanzees share that with me is something that, until now, I've somehow foolishly undervalued.

Do I feel silly for crying tonight? Sure. And part of it is certainly guilt. There's this unspoken covenant -- Trust me, love me, I'm like a mother, and I'll take care of you. Let down your boundaries, pose for silly pictures with me, and most importantly, rely on me enough to include me in your family and come to me for comfort and support.

So to be leaving that? Breaking that covenant, that bond? It makes me feel, if I'm honest, like a bit of a fraud. Obviously I'm not arrogant enough to think that the chimps will never be the same. But I know enough to have seen how the chimpanzees have been affected by the exit of other caregivers. Etaito has been mad at me if I've been gone for several days.

And I put it upon myself to somehow "add" to their lives, and I think I've succeeded. The offshoot to that idea is that, by leaving, I remove that "personal enrichment" ...

Debby is thinking of sending me back to work with Liz in Bukavu, once we move these chimps to a proper sanctuary. Sure, it's a little less secure (what color is that? Mauve?) but the idea that Monday will not be the last time I see these chimpanzees is incredibly comforting. Of course there always has to be a line... I can't sacrifice all of my life to stay here and take care of them -- it's thankless work and I've seen its evidence firsthand, and it's not "what I want from life"... whatever that may eventually back.

I guess the point is that I'm feeling the weight of my exit, and despite my improved mood these past few days since my utter breakdown, the Exit From Goma is not as entirely happy as I perceived in my fretting that it might be.

Either way, having this experience has been incredible. And from this point on, I'm going to be thankful every moment that I've had it.

Strange Goodbyes

Sunday 3:46 pm

I'm sort of glad that I had my mental "goodbye" yesterday evening, because the new day of Sunday feels so strange, having a third person here.

The chimps seem to be responding too. I'm a snuggle mother -- calm, relaxed, grooming -- and I don't really play hard and rough with them -- I'd prefer if they played with each other. Not only does it save me potentially lost fingers and thumbs, but I feel like it's a more natural interaction for them.

Liz is wonderful with the chimps, but her approach is much more of a rough and tumble playing one. I'm obviously not sure if the chimps reflect that change in their behavior, but yesterday, Etaito had tons of calm moments where he'd come to me for some grooming.

Today, though, he's on a tear and I've received more bites today than I have in the last two months. Hard ones too. My normal tactics of hooting to show that it's hurting isn't working either. He's so angry. Does he know?

If anything it's making it easier to go, but at the same time it makes me slightly reminiscent for the time when it was "just us" and I didn't feel so out on a limb.

... So to speak.

Liz and I had a nice lunch at the Hotel Nyira. My dad called with Skype and finalized things for his trip here -- Wednesday!!

Anyway, it does feel like I'm "handing over" today and I almost just wish that it went faster.

I've also talked tons with Liz about "the life" out here, and seeing her intensity and self-started projects and disinterest in any sort of "real" life (whatever that really is) makes me wonder whether, for the long term, if this is what I really want.

Sure, Delphine had a Brad. Rita has a Jeremie. But 90% of the other people out here have absolutely sacrificed love, family, children, to live this path. Maybe it's my incredible love for the chimps, but uh, I really know that I want children (I almost just wrote "chimps" ... hehe)

And a family. I don't have this intense push to save everything, or everyone, or initiate projects on my own. Do I absolutely love being here, and making a difference? Yes. Without a doubt.

Either way, this last week has been really illuminating. And now, it really is time to go.

Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite

Sunday 6:25 pm

Okay, there are totally bed bugs in the couch I've been sleeping on. My entire midsection is covered in HORRIBLY ITCHY LITTLE BITES. GAHH!

As a total aside, falling asleep with chimpanzees continues to be blissful. Etaito crashed before the other chimps, falling asleep on the couches in the other house.

We stretched out their Transformers sheet over the mattress, collapsing with the rapidly snoozified chimpanzees. Kanabiro and Okeysha argue over who gets groomed. I'll be grooming Okeysha, stroking her face to help her get to sleep and Kanabiro will pull my hand towards her belly, wanting to be rubbed.

Okeysha will retaliate, reaching in the dark for the feel of my hairless hand (several times she grabs Kanabiro instead of me and makes this annoyed, disgusted face) and pulls it towards her face. It goes on and on, until I readjust, leaning one arm under Kanabiro's head to reach Okeysha and my free hand to rub Kanabiro's belly.

As Okeysha falls asleep I can stop rubbing her face, and I curl around Kanabiro, feeling her warm breath on my chin and her little whiskers twitching against my cheek. I hear her breathing become regular, and I slowly move my arm from under her head.

She wakes briefly, and I stroke the hairs at the side of her face and above her eye ridges [superorbital torii for the dorks] and I see her eyelids becoming heavy again and she falls back to sleep.

I move, quietly, slowly, hopeful that the mattress won't squeak or creak. None of the three babies stir as the sliver of light from my bedroom becomes a halogen triangle, illuminating their tiny peaceful faces. I slip into my room and close the door behind me, leaving them to dreams.

Explosive Diarrhea

Monday 6:23 am

It would figure that my last night would involve the chimps not sleeping through the night. It sounded like someone had had a bad dream, and made a hoot-call, but then there was silence.

10 minutes later, everyone was screaming, so I ran in in my pajamas and promptly ran through diarrhea in my bare feet. While subtly trying to cat-in-a-litter-box wipe my feet on the floor, all three kids jumped on me, clutching me tightly, causing my far-too-big pajamas to go cascading to the floor.

I shuffled to the window to tell Mwacca to get Faustin, using the window's torso-only viewing to hide my exposed derriere.

I transferred two chimps to my back and leaned forward to regain my PJ bottoms.

After I was again clothed, I went to put the kids back into bed, only to rest my hand in another big clump of diarrhea. The bed was full of pee and poo...

Thankfully, Faustin changed the sheets while two chimpanzees curled on my lap, pretending they weren't going to go back to sleep.

After new sheets and new blanket, as well as a thorough floor-mopping, we turned the lights back off and plopped the kids back on the mattress. They were asleep within minutes, and I went back to my room to watch movies.

A Goodbye

Monday 9:14 am

Well, he might have bitten me hard enough earlier this morning to draw blood, causing me to whimper and look at him while he tried to wipe it away, but, on my very last day, before I left, Etaito came up onto my lap, warm in the stunning sunshine, and let me groom him contentedly while he ate a guava.

I got to hug all my kids today, and I'm feeling good about going. Yea, it's hard, but there's lots more ahead.

The Importance of Life

Wednesday 5:31 pm

Yes, I made it to Entebbe safe and sound. Sorry, there was no power last night if anyone was worried.

Anyway, I wanted to comment. I wrote this to bigrob about 2 months ago:

Oh, and people who DO know continue to have unprotected sex. See,
the real distinguisher here is the concept of death. For us, death
is something we try very hard to avoid, and if it happens
unexpectedly, it's a huge blow, because everyone is supposed to live
until they're four hundred and seven. But here, people die ALL the
time, just randomly. Old people, young people, thin people, fat
people. They die in car accidents, drownings, shootings. So, for
them, having AIDS, being sure they're going to die, is not a reason
to start behaving differently. Giving someone else AIDS isn't a huge
deal either.

Anyway, I really got a taste of it today. On the way back from Kampala and the beauty parlor, there was this traffic congestion on the road and a bunch of people milling around on the lefthand side.

Debby suddenly gasps, and we look over, and there's a tiny girl -- probably 8-10 years old. She's being carried by this man, and she's sprawled across his arms.

She's wearing this dark blue pinafore dress, and her head is drooped down the side. There's blood all over the big round white collar of her dress, and I'm relatively sure that if she wasn't dead already, that she probably would be soon.

I gasped audibly. No one said anything in the car for 20 minutes.

Eventually we had a conversation about how people drive too fast and there aren't enough road humps.

Watching this man, holding this tiny girl... it brought it all into focus for me.

To quote booksymagnifico:

beauty parlor and death
what a surreal combination