If you have even an ounce of perfectionism in you when it comes to housekeeping and having things in order, then perhaps Guinea is not the place for you! If God does call you here, you will spend endless days in frustration over the state of your house. Not that housekeeping in America is a breeze, but it does seem that there are not as many things working against you. On a constant basis, I fight one or more of the following:
Desert dust: every day, but especially during the months of December – April, when the rains are non-existent, there is an endless stream of dust that flows into the house. Within a few hours of dusting, you can usually return and write your name visibly on whatever surface you just dusted. Of course, all of that dust lands on the windows too. Windex is rather pointless for cleaning our louvered glass windows. You just need a bucket of water and some soap. After washing my windows and dusting, I enjoy walking around, looking at the surfaces and enjoying their dust free appearance, know it will be short lived.
All of that dust also lands on the floors, along with all the dirt trudged inside by my family. In Niaya, I had someone who swept and mopped all week, but do not have that privilege here yet, so it is up to me to stay on top of it. On top of that, our great room floor was not finished correctly, so in my daily sweeping, I end up with piles of cement dust. When it rains, the dust is less, but I then am left to deal with mud. Also, the rains bring out flying termites – a treat to the national kids who catch them, pull off their wings and roast them as a tasty snack. The white lady is less pleased with their appearance as she is left to contend with hundreds of them who fly around the lights at night, dropping into every container imaginable and then who are gone by morning, leaving behind piles of paper fine wings everywhere. On those nights, it brings to mind the plagues of Egypt – I guess I should be thankful they are not frogs.
Another reason for the constant sweeping and mopping is all the medical work that I do on my front porch. I have established a “pus corner” here on the new porch, where I do all of my lancing and cleaning of wounds. I have an endless stream of visitors as well, with little kids peeing and occasionally pooping right on or just off of my porch. Even if you are inside the porch, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what is happening when you hear me yelling “Hey, this is not a toilet” at someone.
Last but not least, I have piles – not of the Biblical sort – but piles none the less. I have a pile of stuff that I want to give away in the village, a pile of stuff that I need to sort through, a pile of stuff (usually in a trunk) of stuff I need to take back to CKY when I go next time, and always a trunk going of stuff that I need to give to my teammates the next times I see them. That is usually full by the time we meet – even in a week. It is full of books and videos that we trade around, meds that Mindie might need, or a grocery item that someone is short on, things that I want to pass on that someone might be interested in. And then we have paper piles – lists of emails I need to write and things I need to chat with my teammates about, list of groceries needed for whomever is going to CKY next, a pile of medical papers of sick people who are coming back to see me, my to-do list for the day.
All in all, I still LOVE a clean, neat house, but am much less anal about how my house looks than I used to be – mostly to preserve my sanity. My kids might not notice, but it is true. Not if I could just get them to pick up after themselves and experience the joy of a clean, neat room. . . .
Desert dust: every day, but especially during the months of December – April, when the rains are non-existent, there is an endless stream of dust that flows into the house. Within a few hours of dusting, you can usually return and write your name visibly on whatever surface you just dusted. Of course, all of that dust lands on the windows too. Windex is rather pointless for cleaning our louvered glass windows. You just need a bucket of water and some soap. After washing my windows and dusting, I enjoy walking around, looking at the surfaces and enjoying their dust free appearance, know it will be short lived.
All of that dust also lands on the floors, along with all the dirt trudged inside by my family. In Niaya, I had someone who swept and mopped all week, but do not have that privilege here yet, so it is up to me to stay on top of it. On top of that, our great room floor was not finished correctly, so in my daily sweeping, I end up with piles of cement dust. When it rains, the dust is less, but I then am left to deal with mud. Also, the rains bring out flying termites – a treat to the national kids who catch them, pull off their wings and roast them as a tasty snack. The white lady is less pleased with their appearance as she is left to contend with hundreds of them who fly around the lights at night, dropping into every container imaginable and then who are gone by morning, leaving behind piles of paper fine wings everywhere. On those nights, it brings to mind the plagues of Egypt – I guess I should be thankful they are not frogs.
Another reason for the constant sweeping and mopping is all the medical work that I do on my front porch. I have established a “pus corner” here on the new porch, where I do all of my lancing and cleaning of wounds. I have an endless stream of visitors as well, with little kids peeing and occasionally pooping right on or just off of my porch. Even if you are inside the porch, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what is happening when you hear me yelling “Hey, this is not a toilet” at someone.
Last but not least, I have piles – not of the Biblical sort – but piles none the less. I have a pile of stuff that I want to give away in the village, a pile of stuff that I need to sort through, a pile of stuff (usually in a trunk) of stuff I need to take back to CKY when I go next time, and always a trunk going of stuff that I need to give to my teammates the next times I see them. That is usually full by the time we meet – even in a week. It is full of books and videos that we trade around, meds that Mindie might need, or a grocery item that someone is short on, things that I want to pass on that someone might be interested in. And then we have paper piles – lists of emails I need to write and things I need to chat with my teammates about, list of groceries needed for whomever is going to CKY next, a pile of medical papers of sick people who are coming back to see me, my to-do list for the day.
All in all, I still LOVE a clean, neat house, but am much less anal about how my house looks than I used to be – mostly to preserve my sanity. My kids might not notice, but it is true. Not if I could just get them to pick up after themselves and experience the joy of a clean, neat room. . . .
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