Familiar Feet

I feared coming back to Cape Verde. No, it’s not because of the incessant tourist label that my whiteness may instigate. And not because I fear the dripping heat, or possibilities of unfriendly hello’s. It’s because I fear that my interest— that exciting new feeling of being somewhere so strange and yet so wonderful—may suddenly turn into a feeling of regret. I do not need to feel that I am in an “exotic” place per se, but if this place is going to be my dissertation site, then I know that I must continue to be excited and interested in it. It’s like a second date (well, if I actually had experience “dating”). I fear that the newness and excitement of meeting and liking a person may pass as swiftly as the arrival of my butterflying stomach. I suppose in some ways this is the reason that I haven’t returned to visit my friends in Dakar and in Salvador Brazil; perhaps a part of me fears that these life-changing experiences might somehow spoil when I get to understand them better.
But there is something to be said for finding the same paths. I remember the same pond~like muddy puddles after a heavy august rain. I remember the refreshing feeling of hot rain meeting sweaty skin. I remember the little cafes that are within the gas station mini marts, and that they are actually cool to go to to chill out, drink coffee, and socialize. I remember some of the paths that I took from the beach to the corner store, and get excited when I am wrong, because it means temporarily playing detective in order to find them again. Today has been about just that—walking and finding. There isn’t really anything else that I can do. The 3 day festival (which was only two days—cancelled one day due to rain, but doubled up the next day) was the place to be over the weekend, and it ended at 5am this morning. I am kicking myself now for leaving early at 3am. i should have stayed up. what a wuss. then again. i was sunburned and had tired arms from filming all day in that post-rain clear hot sky. All the stores are closed today. Even the mayor of the city announced that all government offices and jobs will be closed Monday, calling a city-wide “day off” for city jobs. This also means that all other jobs are also closed, because everyone has been partying all weekend. So there’s nothing else to do, but wander, walk, and hang out at little café’s that are open. It’s almost as if today is a club for “go-getters”. Only those who wake up earlier than 2pm are out and about. The Senegalese and other African merchants are out selling African clothes at the nearby markets, but those are the only peole working.