Welcome

Dennis Jones is a Jamaican-born international economist, who has lived most of the time in the UK and USA, and latterly in Guinea, west Africa. He moved back to the Caribbean in 2007. This blog contains his observations on life on this small eastern Caribbean island, as well as views on life and issues on a broader landscape, especially the Caribbean and Africa.

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Saturday, May 24, 2008

Different forms of pain.

I say that everyone has a story. Life is full of common problems, but THE story is about how we each cope with the common problems. This post is based on a conversation I had last night and this morning with a friend in Asia. It's mainly HER story.

My past is flashing back in my face. Weird. I got this email last night from one of the friends I used to go rafting and flying with in the African countryside. He was happily married, at least, so I thought. But his email to me was a lover's letter. I'm still in shock. This guy I really considered a friend.

Then, of course, after that everything about that time in Africa came back and I woke up during the night with a terrible nightmare about THE man in my life at that time, who is now no longer in my life. I thought the pain of the end of our relationship was gone but it is still very much there.

Then, a former colleague and friend of whom I had lost track sends me an email saying he's going to Africa to do the final evaluation of the project I had been working on.

Not a good night.

I think and say: "Phew! Well, there is pain and pain. I'm not sure what to say. The love letter is bizarre enough. I hope all of this won't spoil the weekend."

She replied: "There's nothing to say. I just needed to talk. This pain about my former relationship was real and physical when it woke me up; I was screaming. That man from Africa, who now sends me a love letter ... what was difficult was the realisation that I fostered (again) fantasy from a married man ... against my will, I mean." What a pain.

Me. I remember driving during today with a friend of a friend whom I just met yesterday, whose sister, 7 months pregnant, with a history of miscarriages had to be taken to hospital just as the friend's friend was boarding a plane to travel here. I had said that the baby can live. Different pains.

Me, again. I tell her that my daughter's sobbing: her mother left on a business trip and she wants her back at bedtime. Different pains.

Now, the next day arrives. My friend in Asia tells me she had a good day. There are workers changing windows. She has been trying to read. But, she just spoke to a good friend in Greece, the one who had cancer... more bad news. The Greek friend is in her early 40s and had been diagnosed with cancer 18 months ago after a miscarriage at 3 months pregancy: the baby was highly desired. Had that little girl lived through the 9 months the Greek friend also says, I wouldn't be here. Breast removed; chemotherapy; prosthesis; now under hormone therapy. She is told that she cannot have another baby because that would immediately cause another cancer. The couple both accepted this. They use condoms except on two occasions lately. She just learned she is pregnant. The doctors don't believe it. She will have to terminate the pregnancy. Too much pain.


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