The Truth About Ousmane II

So I had a dream last night that Ousmane II came over to my house and I was like (in French): “Oh, do you have something you want to tell me?” And I can’t remember how the rest of the dream went but I don’t think it was pleasant.

Today, this morning, as if right out of my dream he shows up on my porch. I open the screen door, holding Yogi by the bandanna that is his collar and I say, “Oh, is there something you want to tell me?” He smiles guiltily (or maybe it’s bewildered?) in the way he sometimes smiles and I think it MUST be true and either during the night or very early this morning someone told him that I was a bit on the warpath and he has come to “m’inform” as “bientot” as is polite. Turns out my poor friend Ousmane II is in a lot of distress.

I mean, I thought it was weird when Aissatu told me he had gone to ask a village girl to marry him because I KNOW he has bigger plans and it turns out my instincts were right.

Ousmane II was very troubled. After the first smiles he did not smile again as we sat on the porch. He had actually come over to borrow my phone (as he often does) so he can hike hours up a mountain to make a phone call. He wants to make a phone call because of the following: it was not he who asked Lundi to marry him but actually Lundi’s family who went to Ousmane II’s family to propose the union (this is how rumors get started). Ousmane II’s family is receptive to the idea as they have been pestering him to find a first wife since he is getting old (he is 23). However he has no money, no job, no bride-price and a yearning for MORE which is the strongest deterrent of all.

I felt SO BAD for him as we sat there on my porch. Usually we are very talkative but I had nothing to say. I have never dealt with arranged marriages before. I can’t even really CONCIEVE of the idea. He was pleading with me for advice and all I could say was that I had to think about it.

Then he started saying he was going to “voyager” (go away), and I was like, “to Conakry?” And he was like, “no, to another country.” And I said he would have to go somewhere where they speak French because if he wants to get anywhere he has to at least speak the national language. So we start brainstorming African countries that speak French (never before would the internet have been more useful). Senegal, Mali, Cote d’Ivoire (uh, Ivory Coast), Morocco, Nigeria, Niger, Benin, Togo, Cameroon – there are several countries we wonder about but don’t know what language they speak like Equatorial Guinea and Angola. We rule out Mozambique because they speak Portuguese (I know this from my “Nominee Dinner” in LA – girl sitting at my table was headed to Mozambique and was learning Portuguese…plus Solana [volunteer here] was offered a third year spot in Mozambique and will have to learn Portuguese if he accepts it).

In my heart I want to tell him that if he has a stout heart he should stay in Guinea and try to make a change. But it just seems so HOPELESS. You need a MOVEMENT, and a movement of strong-willed people with influence and money (sad to say) and numbers behind them to really affect change in a place like this (#9 on the Failed States Index). What I finally admit is that if someone is content to make a life here just building a couple of huts and maybe a house (not the way an American would think of a house) and working the land to get food and making Attaya all day and having a family that will also probably never leave the village, one can do well here. If you have no greater aspirations of leaving the village and having a “more interesting” life, you can definitely live in Guinea without problems. But if you want to DO something, if you want to GO places…it’s not like the US.

In the US anyone can get a job. Even if it’s McDonald’s anyone can get a job. And you can save your money, and pull yourself up by your bootstraps and ACHIEVE YOUR DREAMS, no matter what they are – if there’s a will, there’s a way.

I have this horrible, cold, sinking feeling for my friend Ousmane II. He would have to be EXCEPTIONAL, incredibly smart, cunning, creative, to get out of this place and even achieve what even the LAZIEST American has just by birthright and it makes me want to SCREAM. I have no advice for my friend. I mean, I guess, learn English. That can slowly get you places somewhere like this. You could work for an NGO or for Peace Corps and maybe go to university and get a grad school scholarship in France or England. But Ousmane II never finished high school (though his French is strong and his mind inquisitive).

I don’t want this for him. HE doesn’t want this for him. And I have NO ADVICE. And it is driving me crazy. More than ever I want to DO SOMETHING and I have nothing I can do. And to make it worse he has always counted on my advice. And yet I remain silent.

As they say…”la vie est dificil aux Guinea.”

The 8 ball said I will not be able to help him, that he will not marry Lundi, that he will leave Guinea and he will be happy wherever he goes. The 8 ball knows all.