Grating My Expectations: Finding Paradise Lost Again.

I received a message last night from a friend I had made in Guinea, whom I shall call "Chrysanthemum". Like many people these days, we have continued to stay in touch in writing and by exchanging pictures on Facebook. She left a very ambiguous wall posting a few weeks ago that she had left Guinea and was headed to Cote d'Ivoire, a neighbouring country.

It turns out that she had only begun a new adventure, after seven years in a country that draws all of your energy and sometimes places so much despair on your plate that you have to wonder how much more you can take. As a foreigner, you can leave. Imagine how a national feels.

She quipped that I am often passionate about food. True enough. But I had to explain that food is something that creates memories for me and I often savour the excitement of a meeting or an occasion through recalling the food that was involved. I gave her an example of being very excited about eating bread, feta cheese, cucumbers and fresh tomatoes. Why? The first time I ate that I was on a train (part of the Orient Express route) travelling from Greece (Athens), through Yugoslavia (Belgrade), into Austria (Innsbruck), then on to France (Paris) (see map). I had little money--penniless student at the time--and was working on eating when I got to Austria the next day. The train's guard struck up a conversation and I told him about the trips I had been making, travelling as a Eurorail/Studentrail passenger for a month. Lunchtime arrived. He unpacked a large printed cloth, and in it was...bread, feta cheese, tomatoes, and cucumber. He added some salt, and also opened a jar of olives, then extended the feast to me. I declined initially, but he frowned and said "Eat!" I ate. That memory is one of my first recollections of "The Give" and how people's inherent generosity can come forth. Never knew his name. Can barely recall his face. But the meal? Unforgettable.

Chrysanthemum travelled with a friend and two dogs to Abidjan in Cote d'Ivoire, having to dodge rebels along the road. But she did not stay there long. She switched coasts quickly, however, and went to Madagascar (a large island in the Indian Ocean) off Africa's east coast. Madagascar is much more than an animated film title. It is the land of lemurs; the island of vanilla and cloves; a country with family names like Andrianampoinimerina (which means something); a country that has lost nearly 75% of its forests since 1950 as coffee cultivation developed [11 million hectares were there when the island was colonized; 7.5 hectares remained in 1950, and only about 4 hectares remained in 1985; more has been lost since 1985]. Deforestation has put the island that once held five percent of the world's species on the verge of an environmental catastrophe; a country with levels of poverty that reach incredible depths is struggling to survive, yet remains unbelievably beautiful, truly Eden. Truly, paradise lost. Ironically, the same could be said for Guinea, from which Chrysanthemum had fled.

But, Chrysanthemum also met again many old friend and she has hope and suggests that she could become a "paradise counsellor", a modern eco-tourism guide. In Guinea she was involved in tourism, running a hotel and car rental business.

I have to be inspired by the fact that almost everyone I know who has had the chance to live in an African country has many fond memories, and tends to find ways to stay on the continent.