The Beautiful Truth

Looks beautiful, doesn’t it? This is sunset behind the Peace Corps bureau in Conakry. I’m sitting at the beach bar that many volunteers frequent for their “cold” beers and pizza. Like how a cover of a book can be deceiving to the eye, this picture conceals the truth. But I will reveal the littered waters full of plastics of all sorts from food packaging to toilet seats. I will point out that silhouette of a man in the corner who seems to be praising the scenery, but in reality is talking to an imaginary audience induced by his mental state. I will admit to being scared of the sickly looking stray dog that lays under my table hoping for my attention just as much as for my pizza.
This is what I see after being away in America for two weeks and after having been gone for almost two years. This is what I feel: confusion. It’s like I went through a time warp and my concept of reality was lost in another dimension. I went through reverse culture shock while I stood in Time Square or even just standing in the candy aisle of a Rite Aid. But I didn’t plan on coming back to Guinea and going through culture shock as I lit a candle, used a latrine pit, or worried about clean drinking water again.
I found myself getting upset because I wanted the easy life again. I cursed the night along with this country when all I wanted to do was flip a light switch to see. Have I lost my strength and patience in just two weeks?
I don’t know, but I’ll tell you what my best friends back home think I’ve lost. They said I have lost my butterfly wings. Peace Corps allowed me to see with my idealistic eyes, but Guinea wiped them anew. I was reminded to look at things objectively, allowing me to exercise my scientific mind. And what I’ve observed is that looks truly can be deceiving. I remember that night I stood in Times Square was the first night during my visit to America that I cried myself to sleep. Being in the capital of consumerism may be as beautiful to someone as a sunset on a beach, but to me it was a delusion. I won’t expand any further on this so as to avoid the idea I’ve become a misanthrope, but I’ve learned that there is always beauty in truth, no matter how ugly that truth may appear to be.