HolistiSci

There are certain places that pull our souls to them. When I was in college, my parents set the expectation that I would study abroad my junior year. I embraced the opportunity, but my approach was quite different from others. My friends were going in groups to Italy, or Spain, or England. I wanted no part of it. When I saw the brochure for South Africa, I knew that’s exactly where I needed to be. I approached my dad with the emergency contingency page open and sealed the deal.

My experience in South Africa was one that would change the trajectory of my life. I felt alive and seen unlike in any other place. When I walked down the street and greeted those who passed me by, I felt as though they were looking into my soul. I navigated the streets of Cape Town and Durbin on my own and met people from all over the world on overland trips throughout southern Africa. It was also the first time I ate a meal at a restaurant alone. And with confidence. It was so liberating. I knew from that experience on, that Africa needed to be a part of my life. If nothing else, then to keep me humble.

It was just one step on the journey to where I am now, living in Conakry, Guinea. Conakry is not a place that I ever would have chosen if you asked me and sometimes I question myself as to why I had to fall in love with a Guinean man. But when I look around myself and back at what I’ve experienced here, I know.

In Guinea, men make all of the decisions. Even having a technician over to fix something in the house can become a matter of waiting for my husband to be there for a decision to be made. My voice doesn’t seem to be as valued. So I had to find my value. Within this country, this culture, my Guinean family, but most importantly within me.

In Guinea, there are so many cultural expectations it’s suffocating. You’re not supposed to wear the same dress to any ceremony – and there are a lot of ceremonies. You’re not supposed to wear wax fabric to weddings, but it’s okay to wear it to naming ceremonies and to the parties that take place before the wedding. You’re supposed to serve the men first. Instead, I follow what feels good to me and ignore what doesn’t. If it feels good, it’s God. The rest is ego and I have no desire to feed ego.

In Guinea, when people stay with you in your home, it’s incredibly rude to ask them how long they plan to stay. That’s the equivalent of kicking them out. Instead, people stay anywhere from days, to weeks, to months at time. I’ve experienced all three. So, I’ve learned to set the vibration for my home. So that whenever people come, it’s on my energetic terms, not theirs.

In Guinea, people are open to energetic healing. Much of this culture is built on animistic beliefs that have mostly been dropped, but some are interwoven with Islam and Christianity. It’s hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. They don’t question what heals as long as it does. Prophetic dreaming is a common practice. And whenever I offer energetic healing, it’s accepted with love and gratitude.

In Guinea, we often go hours or days without electricity; sometimes without water. It’s frustrating and can be difficult to sleep well in the heat. So, I’ve had to mentally shift my expectations. I find myself finding more joy in the simple things than ever before and much more adaptable.

In Guinea, there is perfection in imperfection. Paint jobs are messy. The corners of the walls aren’t straight. Everything is constantly breaking. And it’s okay. Everything is perfect just as it is.

Guinea has become a home to me in ways I never could have imagined. It has forced me to grow in ways I never could have imagined. I have stepped into who I am in ways I never could have imagined. I am imperfectly perfect. Ever changing, ever growing, ever loving. Places have way of changing you. And if you allow it, it will be for the better.