There have been a lot of moments recently when I have to decide whether to cry or laugh. (Sometimes my options are get angry or laugh.) Even now, I can't decide whether to write a post about the humorous stories I have from being home with my kids or a serious post about what is worrying me right now. They're both true. They're both now. So maybe both?
I'll start with humor. It's my favorite.
But first a little background.
For those of you who haven't been paying attention to my life (where were you??), I live in Libreville, Gabon, Africa. Imagine a country about the size of Colorado with the population of about the size of Indianapolis and then fill it with 85 percent rainforest with a lot of coastline—boom—that's Gabon. We are nearing the end of our third (and sadly final) year here. Gabon had been free of COVID-19 until last week. On Thursday, our first confirmed case was reported. On Friday, schools started canceling. Yesterday, on Tuesday, two more cases were confirmed. The government put many restrictions in place.
So at the beginning of last week, Monday afternoon, the largest internet provider in Gabon went down. Apparently an ocean cable was damaged. Legit outage right there. By the end of Thursday, I had internet back. In the meantime, I also didn't have cell phone service or data, and apparently my land line is a fake—it functions through the internet—so no contact. And a week before that I was in a car accident, so I didn't have my car for the whole week either. It was . . . a weird week. No internet, no phone, no car. Then internet was back (for me). (Some are still without or just got it back today.) And then school closed, so the weirdness continues (but this time with fear on the side!).
Day 1: Normal day. It was a Saturday. Only strange thing is that all of our activities were canceled: parties, tennis lessons, going running, etc.—all canceled, so we stayed home (and our car was still in the shop, so it was easy to stay home).
Day 2: We did our own church from home. The kids were happy to have it be in English. Then in the evening close to bedtime, the kids were playing. Daniel was getting something from under the kitchen table and smacked his head on the edge of the table as he was coming up, and then there was blood just about everywhere. Blood was streaming: matting in his hair, flowing down his neck, clogging up his ear. Face/head wounds bleed so fantastically! He refused pain medication and said he could handle it, but the tears sneaked out when I told him I needed to cut his hair to be able to see the wound more clearly. Now we know what he values!
Day 3: With my kids home from school and our maid not coming, my kids have stepped up in helping me with the house. I’m discovering that they learned their housekeeping skills from the maid instead of me.
I caught Jill ironing Gordon’s underwear.
Me: Jill, please don’t turn on the iron without telling me. And . . . what are you doing?
Jill: It was my day to do laundry.
Me: Okay, I didn’t think I had to mention that ironing is not required.
Jill: But Esperance always irons everything, even underwear.*
Me: Well, we are Americans. We iron almost nothing. If you don’t want wrinkles just get it out of the dryer quickly.
The image of her ironing tiny Spider-man underwear will stay with me for a while.
Also Day 3: Three of my kids decided today was a good day to fill up the tub and try to surf using our wake boards. I am so glad no one got hurt. And I'm so angry that they would do something so dangerous. It is almost funny now.
Day 4: Gordon learned that I don’t keep all of his school work.
Gordon: Where should I put this?
Me: Either your special things box or the trash can.
Gordon: Well, it isn’t that special.
Me: Then throw it away.
Gordon: You can’t throw it away! Put it with my school stuff.
Me: Baby, there is no collection of school stuff. It is either special or trash.
Gordon: You didn’t keep it all??
I'll start with humor. It's my favorite.
But first a little background.
For those of you who haven't been paying attention to my life (where were you??), I live in Libreville, Gabon, Africa. Imagine a country about the size of Colorado with the population of about the size of Indianapolis and then fill it with 85 percent rainforest with a lot of coastline—boom—that's Gabon. We are nearing the end of our third (and sadly final) year here. Gabon had been free of COVID-19 until last week. On Thursday, our first confirmed case was reported. On Friday, schools started canceling. Yesterday, on Tuesday, two more cases were confirmed. The government put many restrictions in place.
The only testing center for COVID-19 in the country is in a different town: Franceville. The military hospital here in Libreville can start treating suspected cases, but the confirmation will take hours, because the specimens have to travel by train or car, and it is not a smooth trip.
Wait. I was supposed to save my worrying for after the funny part. Whoops! The concern slips in so easily . . .
So at the beginning of last week, Monday afternoon, the largest internet provider in Gabon went down. Apparently an ocean cable was damaged. Legit outage right there. By the end of Thursday, I had internet back. In the meantime, I also didn't have cell phone service or data, and apparently my land line is a fake—it functions through the internet—so no contact. And a week before that I was in a car accident, so I didn't have my car for the whole week either. It was . . . a weird week. No internet, no phone, no car. Then internet was back (for me). (Some are still without or just got it back today.) And then school closed, so the weirdness continues (but this time with fear on the side!).
Day 1: Normal day. It was a Saturday. Only strange thing is that all of our activities were canceled: parties, tennis lessons, going running, etc.—all canceled, so we stayed home (and our car was still in the shop, so it was easy to stay home).
Day 2: We did our own church from home. The kids were happy to have it be in English. Then in the evening close to bedtime, the kids were playing. Daniel was getting something from under the kitchen table and smacked his head on the edge of the table as he was coming up, and then there was blood just about everywhere. Blood was streaming: matting in his hair, flowing down his neck, clogging up his ear. Face/head wounds bleed so fantastically! He refused pain medication and said he could handle it, but the tears sneaked out when I told him I needed to cut his hair to be able to see the wound more clearly. Now we know what he values!
Day 3: With my kids home from school and our maid not coming, my kids have stepped up in helping me with the house. I’m discovering that they learned their housekeeping skills from the maid instead of me.
I caught Jill ironing Gordon’s underwear.
Me: Jill, please don’t turn on the iron without telling me. And . . . what are you doing?
Jill: It was my day to do laundry.
Me: Okay, I didn’t think I had to mention that ironing is not required.
Jill: But Esperance always irons everything, even underwear.*
Me: Well, we are Americans. We iron almost nothing. If you don’t want wrinkles just get it out of the dryer quickly.
The image of her ironing tiny Spider-man underwear will stay with me for a while.
Look at Jill's sweet laundry piles!
Also Day 3: Three of my kids decided today was a good day to fill up the tub and try to surf using our wake boards. I am so glad no one got hurt. And I'm so angry that they would do something so dangerous. It is almost funny now.
The scene of the shenanigans: Clearly that wake board does not fit in that tub.
Day 4: Gordon learned that I don’t keep all of his school work.
Gordon: Where should I put this?
Me: Either your special things box or the trash can.
Gordon: Well, it isn’t that special.
Me: Then throw it away.
Gordon: You can’t throw it away! Put it with my school stuff.
Me: Baby, there is no collection of school stuff. It is either special or trash.
Gordon: You didn’t keep it all??
. . . a few minutes later.
Gordon: I made this heart. It's only kind of special. I not know where it should go.
Well, darn it, now he just made it go from kinda-special to definitely special!
Day 5: I discovered that my plan for this time at home is not going to happen. I had promised my kids sewing projects, science experiments, cooking lessons, craft projects, sports competitions, walks in the jungle and on the beach, reading races, and all manners of jolly good fun. See that optimistic poster I created and hung on the wall? It looked great. But I have since discovered that my kids' school did not simply close—they switched to online learning. Which is great, in theory, because I don't want my kids to repeat this school year. In actuality though, it's been bumpy trying to figure out how to match the school's schedules. I think next week will be much smoother than this week. There have been some highs and lows.
What I thought I would do . . .
. . . what I actually should do. (I made this chart by compiling all of the information from the school about what needed to be done. This is one at-home school day.)
Crafting with the neighbors (I am counting my compound as my quarantine group.)
Settlers of Catan and a messy room
The kids played a new game today unlike any they've ever played before. Some sort of something happened outside, poisoning the earth. They all came running in, searching for bandanas and masks to wear. They pushed the buttons to make all of our security blinds close. Then one of the kids was "outside for too long" and became infected from the whateveritwas and ran around trying to "infect" the other kids. Then I yelled at them to stop yelling (I'm totes a good mom!) and to stop hitting each other and to go back outside.
Aside from the kids, life is strange. The drastic news feels so far away, but then you read about the tragedies and deaths, and it feels much too close and so devastating. My Church canceled all meetings. They recalled their missionaries from Gabon. My husband's work has created an alternate work schedule, so he's home every other day in an attempt to have fewer people in the Embassy at once. The State Department authorized evacuations and curtailments for those with high risk health issues. Friends have left Gabon and returned to their home countries. Everyone is talking about it. "Are you staying?" "Are you leaving?" "Are there any flights anymore?" "Do you think the airport will shut down completely?"
Am I safer here? Would I be safer there? Is anywhere safe anymore? What will the world look like when this is over? Will food continue to be shipped to Gabon? Without exaggerating, I can say that practically everything we eat here is imported.
I had to reassure Alice at bed tonight that her daddy had really good taste in women, so even if I died, I promised he would do a great job choosing a new mommy for her. But I also promised I would do my very best to not die. She's had a lot of concerns about death since losing so many great grandparents in August and September 2019, and this virus isn't helping. So many people actually are dying right now from a scary invisible bug.
I'll close this off with a smile. Oh, the local wildlife! When I am in their natural habitat, I can never catch one. These lizards are much too quick. However, when they are in my natural habitat, they literally play dead to try and fool my cats. Nothing can make them move when they are playing dead. So why not take a lizard selfie??
Please be safe and cautious right now, friends!
*There are a lot of very valid reasons to iron everything, even underwear, here. I will describe why sometime if you're curious. But ironing is so unAmerican!
So much to think about. So much to lament. So much to love. So much life. Love you all. -KC
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