Getting a Life

I'm convinced that the people nearest and dearest to me totally agree with the following statement:

I am pretty much a closeted hermit. I spend way too much time by myself, and during about 70 percent of that time, I'm perfectly content. I've written before that I have an incredibly vibrant, if borderline loopy inner life, which means I'm actually pretty good company for myself. I've never really needed to have a lot of people around me, for some reason.

But I've always believed that if at any point in my life, if I really WANTED to have a swingin' social life, I could.

I became fully convinced of that during my years as a freelance writer for the Delta Airlines Shuttle Magazine in Washington. As the person responsible for exploring DC's culinary and cultural scene, I wound up on everybody's list. There were weeks when I was at a restaurant opening or exhibition or party every single night. I mixed and mingled beautifully, if I do say so myself. So much so that even after that gig ended in 2000, I was STILL invited to every splashy restaurant or hotel opening, still a much sought after warm body to fill a coveted seat at some high profile event.

And then I moved to Northern Uganda, where all of that interpersonal revelry came to a screeching halt. I was a 45 year old woman in a, shall we say, culturally-limited remote African village where electricity was optional...forget about mixing and mingling. As for my potential pool of social companions, most of the humanitarian aid workers were nauseatingly idealistic Europeans and European Americans in their mid-20s who were immutably convinced that they had the solution to world poverty. Their idea of a social life was to get wasted and have sex with anything that wasn't nailed down, all while listening to obnoxiously loud music. The rest were bitter, cynical 50-something European and European American aid workers who were pretty much fed up with the ignorance and greed of the local power structure, were abusive to their African staffers, and had lost that idealistic zest for saving the world. They were just holding on by their fingernails until the next posting in the next country, where they would ALSO be infuriated by ignorant, greedy local politicians and wind up drinking too much, being even MORE abusive to their African staffers and eventually be permanently relieved of their duties.

The whole time I was in Gulu, I had nobody to talk to, nobody to hang out with. Oh, sure, it was fun rollin' with The Intern every now and then, and I appreciated having a fellow American to relate to. The Ugandan Technical Consultant, Akiiki, was a married man separated from his wife and 2 young children; most of the time, he was totally preoccupied by long distance family crises....that is, when he wasn't working insane hours for the program. The contacts I made with other expats were fleeting at best; the few interesting people I met were usually just in town for a few days before moving on, or they were based in Kampala.......6 hours south of Gulu.

At this point, you may be pondering another fairly obvious option....bonding with local residents. For example, I suppose I could have worked harder to be friends with the vivacious Jane, who owned the only decent restaurant in Gulu. She was married with grown children, about two years older than me, and very friendly. We kept saying we'd get together at some point to cook our favorite dishes, either at her home or my cottage, but we never got around to it. Or I could have accepted the numerous invitations to attend local churches, but I really didn't see any point to that. Besides the fact that most services were conducted in the local languages, there wasn't much hope of building any lasting connections there. Mostly because I didn't see myself being "Born Again" just to have somebody to go drinking with a coupla times a week.

What I'm trying to say is that I never made a single friend during my time in Gulu, and that solitary sojourn definitely took its toll. On the other hand, I've only been in Nairobi 3 weeks, and I've already made contact with quite a few folk. In fact, one of those interesting, age-appropriate people I met briefly in Gulu lives here. I hung out with Jackie and her daughter last weekend, and once I get my apartment together, I'll probably have her and her family over for dinner. My NPR colleague and friend Muthoni is from Nairobi, and I've also met her sister Lucy and her family. I've already promised to cook for them, too. And on Friday, I met a young man who works for a socially conscious PR firm I've dealt with in DC. He's based here, and he and his new bride are eager to start venturing out more.

Are you starting to detect a pattern here? Basically, just about every potential social contact I meet is married....most with children. As pour moi, I seem destined to be "Ms. Perennial 5th Wheel," the kind of woman who's sparkling company at dinner parties, but what the heck do you do with her afterwards? I mean, you don't really know her well enough to call up for a chat or to invite on a shopping trip. And somewhere in the back of your mind, even though she does not emit a single "wanton slut vibe," you're thinking you might not want to leave her alone with your husband or boyfriend..........

See, that's the weirdest thing about my social status right now! A couple of acquaintances have alread suggested I might be persona non grata where their significant others are concerned. It's that last thing I would ever do, because I believe too strongly in Karma. Make a move on somebody else's mate, and not only will it happen to you, it'll probably happen when you're most vulnerable...maybe lying in an iron lung somewhere desperately needing someone to spoonfeed you bland gruel and make sure the plug stays in the socket. What goes around comes around, and frankly, I have yet to meet the man worth going through the trouble of taking from some other woman.

Nevertheless, as a single, attractive, older woman, I'm perceived as a threat. You know, in a way, it's kind of cool to think that about myself. I mean, after decades of fairly lousy self-esteem, I can finally say without a trace of ego that I'm a pretty hot number. Even if I AM the only person who fully appreciates just HOW hot I am.

Anyway, the bottom line is because of that fact, I may be in for another long, socially-arid stint here in Nairobi. I know, it's still way too early to reach that conclusion. Since my arrival on June 25th, I've spent the past few weekends just recharging my batteries. I haven't had the energy to venture out much, but the good news is that Nairobi has a pretty vibrant social scene. I'm sure that once I start checking out the local theater and arts scene, and link into the expat community, I'll eventually get a life.

At least, I hope I will....