Please define normal

I know I have vaguely mentioned this in the hubsterblog already, but it's worth stating again that the human mind is capable of really amazing things. Such as accepting as normal something that beforehand would have been qualified as absurd. Impossible. Surreal.

If you think of it, that is quite a good thing, because otherwise many people would go insane all the time. Imagine waking up on a Sunday, realizing you're under a mosquito net, looking out the window, seeing Lake Victoria and a couple baboons, and understanding you're looking at Entebbe. And then not starting to feel a vertigo panicking „OMG, I'm on a different continent, what's gonna happen now”, but rather thinking: breakfast. And that you should probably put on some clothes. And that soon the football world cup will start. Then for a moment you think of good old Davor Suker, because Croatia will be playing the opening game, and tadaaa: you're thoughts are in a completely familiar field already. Ok, you stop and think for a moment before brushing your teeth, because you probably shouldn't be doing that using tap water, but otherwise you feel (and look) like you do on any given morning waking up in a hotel, after a long day of travelling.

And it's the same later, or even more natural. At first of course I ended up with a few wide-eyed „wow, there really is no electricity”, but it lasted for about five minutes. It helped a lot that I got here in summer (the European notion of summer), and weather didn't shock me much at first. Ever since I got comfortably stuck in eternal summer.

What is important though is that I don't start every morning with a „WTF Africa” moment, but rather with thoughts like: Coffee. What should I wear. Why is it Monday. Why did I stay up so late last night. When will it be weekend again. What do I have to do today. What should I wear. And at work too, I mainly go on about things like why is my computer so slow, why did I not write this newsletter yesterday, and if I did, did I print it too? And if I did, why can't I find it. Optionally, I wonder whether it will rain exactly when I have to go to the other compound, or why is it always the problematic French girls and not the cute French boys calling me all day long.

And it is still all right, but the thing is, since I accepted this one as the only currently valid reality, I also accepted that the guards of the neighbouring motorbike shop change shifts at 5.30. Yelling all over the place. And that Papa Pierre always washes our pink fresbee, very meticulously. Already, that there is a Papa Pierre who comes to our place to clean. Whenever he feels like it, that is. I agreed to participate in important and demanding trainings over the weekend, in a container, where lights, projector and air conditioning come and go, and there is a complete construction site working next to us - not quite like the soundproof isolated training rooms I was used to when I was organizing those courses.  With the acceptance of this version of normal come the ladies selling bananas and cigarettes by the side of the road, and also that the „Attention! Road blocked!” sign is always put at a point where you no longer have a chance to take a detour but have to completely turn around. And of course you're being looked at and looked down on, for making such a fuss. And of course the motorbikers in the roundabout, coming from the opposite direction, giving you an angry look. Depending on mood and level of fatigue I get annoyed by these, but no more than I did by the high schoolers shouting on the Luxembourg- Kleinbettingen train. I never understood why they would do it, but I knew that's the way it is.

And the good thing is, this works the other way around too! Usually for two days after arriving to Europe I keep locking all doors of the car and feel like honking at every intersection. Or any time I see a motorbike, a pedestrian, a bus or any other car. But then it's done. I don't feel haunting nostalgia for all the construction vehicles (although I often think how much my nephew would enjoy an average drive to work here), and I only laughed at the avocados once. But they were so tiny! Ok, I am very happy about tap water, and I take real long showers, in anybody's bathroom.

Maybe it's because the way from here or back takes so long, and I have time to apparate from one life to the other. It's usually then, during the trip, that I realize how very far we really are. And when I have a look at the statistics of the hubsterblog, and I can see on the map how many of you are reading me and from where, and when I see Mali being green, I know it must have been Bea, and then the distance kinda hits me.