My friend Elena has inspired me to write this entry. A problem we have all encountered is articulating our experience here in Burkina Faso to those back home. Its not that it’s too profound and silly Americans could never understand. Not at all. Its just that in sharing our experiences here, there is no way to really do justice to the experience itself or change I am going through. I cannot explain the little moments and observations that are too small to point out but without these hundreds of seemingly unimportant events, I would not be able to interpret the bigger picture that makes this experience incredible.

My housemate Yuki, just walked in a minute ago as I was writing this and his first disenchanted words were, “Its incredible how everyone in this country always wants something from you.” Sometimes it is hard when writing home not to romanticize the experience into stories of self-realization and world discovery. Trust me there is plenty of that, but there is just as much difficulty and frustration. As I have said before, I have found the Burkinabé to be sweet, beautiful and generous but sometimes I feel like every time I have a conversation I end up lying about having a husband, no phone and no email. And I cannot blame these people either. There are no opportunities here. Half the population would be ready to get on a plane out of Burkina Faso tomorrow. The positives and negatives of being here are sometimes too hard to balance bringing on a state of confusion that is difficult to reconcile. As I try to articulate this to you I myself am trying to come to terms with the irrelevance of my own culture and its comforts. But don’t worry; I’m not depressed or ungrateful. I’m happy and healthy having the time of my life here. If it were all just a series of heart-warming anecdotes, then I wouldn’t have wanted to come anyway.