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Tuesday, November 15, 1977, 8:00 am, Day 658
I've been working out at the well site these past four days. I'm getting some good production out of myself, at least. I took one day to finally get the well started. I went out and took a look as to where the two streams joined, and then chose a place for the well so as to collect water from both streams. I cleared and leveled an area 24 feet in diameter, and then dug a 6 foot diameter hole in the center. This went down about 3 feet, hitting water at 2 feet down.
The other three days I spent working on the footpath. Yesterday I finally finished it up so that now a motorcycle should be able to reach the bottom with no trouble. I haven't tried it yet, but a few days ago a Honda 70 came down as far as to where I was working, just 200 feet short of the bottom.
The situation with Sia Kundi, my cook here in Kamiendor, is really strange. She is here while Tamba Kabba, her husband, is in Sefadu, where he has been working for the past two months. A week before I came back up to Kamiendor, the chief sent Sia Kundi here to make sure that she was here to cook for me when I came back. Therefore, the only reason for her being here at the moment is to cook for me.
Sia Kundi claims that she doesn't want her husband again. She says that when she goes to Sefadu now, she stays with her own people, and doesn't go to her husband. We have been spending an awful lot of time together. All of my evenings have been spent with her, and many of my afternoons also.
Sia Kundi has me wrapped around her little finger. Just about anything she wants I give to her without any hesitation. That is probably because I love her, and love her I do. Of all the ladies that I've met here in Sierra Leone, she is the best. I've told her many times that I would marry her if it wasn't that she was already married. I think that I mean it, too.
I am planning to look into the possibility of Tamba Kabba giving her up, thereby making the way open for me. It would mean paying him the money that he paid her family. It was 440 leones, which is very high for a wife, but the money doesn't matter to me.
Sia Kundi claims that she wants me also, which is probably true, as she has been out tempting me these past 8 months or so.
I've said before that marriage means alot to me and that I wouldn't marry a woman here with the idea of leaving her here when I went back home. I still mean that, and that is bothering me. If I marry Sia Kundi, that means that I will also bring her back to America with me, and how she will manage in America has me worried. She does not know how to read or write. Her English isn't too good, but she knows Krio so I think she could get by. The reading and writing part is the biggest. If I can teach her enough to get by on, then that would be okay. Another thing would be how well she would fit in with a group of educated white people. She does just fine with socializing here, but in America she might always feel left out.
Another very big concern would be how well all of my family and friends and other people-at-large would react to my having a black wife, and how they will treat her. I wouldn't want them to treat her badly or make fun of her, just because she can't write her own name very well.
I think I have it figured out how I can manage everything. If I were to marry Sia Kundi now, then that would leave 7 or 8 months together here in Kamiendor while I finish this project. During that time I could try to teach her to write and read a little English. I would also need that time to get her passport, visa, shots, etc.
Next, we would go to America together for my 6 weeks leave. This would just be a visit for her, but it would also be enough time for everyone to see if Sia Kundi will be capable of fitting in, so that we could spend the rest of our lives together. Then, after this visit, we would return to Sierra Leone, where I would then stay for another year or two, to do another water system. After all of that, if everything had worked out fine, I would take Sia Kundi home with me permanently. If things really looked like they just wouldn't work, then I could set Sia Kundi up nicely here in Sierra Leone, disolve the marriage, and return to America.
Either way, we would both be recieving many benefits from the arrangement, for the time being. I would have a live in cook and bottle-washer, someone to care for me and hold me close at night. She would have me there, ready to fulfill her every desire. She would get a trip to America and if she showed that she could handle it, then we would later go there permanently.
Tuesday, November 15, 1977, 9:00 pm, Day 658
A person died and was buried today here in Kamiendor. The first thing that I heard of it was after I had finished work down on the pumphouse site, and was walking back up the hill into town. Halfway up, I started to hear all sorts of moaning and wailing coming from inside the town. From this I figured that 1) someone had died, and 2) that it was someone whom alot of people liked, due to the fact that many people were moaning and wailing. I was a bit wary as I finished walking up the hill, because if it was someone that alot of people liked, then it had to be someone that I also knew. It turned out that it was Ky, the driver for the Paramount Chief's LandRover. It was a sudden, unexplainable death. In Sefadu last night, they say he finished drinking his coffee and then went and laid down. This was near midnight. A while later his wife went in and found him dead. He wasn't sick or anything. His body was brought here by lorry and with him came many of the villagers who happened to be in Sefadu, some of whom I haven't seen for months. He was from the house next door to my own. His grave is plainly visible from my window, being no more than 20 feet away.
This was the biggest death that I have seen in this country. Everyone in Kamiendor was wailing and moaning, or at least standing around with very solemn looks on their faces.
In this country, when a person dies, the people do not hide their emotions. Maybe its better that way. If they can let it all out, then the theory is that it won't all build up inside. In our country, where showing ones emotions just isn't done, then everything can just keep building up inside until finally the person cracks. I know that sometimes I've felt like I need a good cry, or at least a few tears and a sob or two, but have found that I was unable to let myself go.
Thursday, November 17, 1977, 9:00 pm, Day 660
I think that I have talked myself out of marrying Sia Kundi. Yesterday evening, I was going all over it again, especially the part about what I wanted to do once I got out of the Peace Corps. I saw that what I wanted was to find a job in the San Jose area, so that I could be near home and be able to go to church. The church had a big part in it. San Jose Church is where my roots are, and I want to go back so I can get involved in it. I don't think that any other church would do the same for me. Marriage was also a big part of it. I found that the person that would be ideal for me would have to come from the same background and be interested and involved in the same things that I am. An ideal setup would be to find someone from the San Jose Church. (I don't have anyone lined up as yet.) In trying to figure how Sia Kundi would be able to figure in here, I found that I would be in for alot of problems, changes, and setbacks. Love might conquer all, but it would sure be an upward battle.
Tamba Kabba came back today, finally. It had been about two months since I had seen him, and I had been alone with Sia Kundi for three weeks during that time. Sia Kundi wanted me to ask him tonight, but I don't think I will do it. I wouldn't mind just discussing the question, but I think I have my mind made up already. Also, I don't think that it would be good to let the future course of my life depend on if Kabba says "Yes" or if he says "No". My marrying Sia Kundi would change both of our lives completely. And all of it wouldn't be for the better. They wouldn't change hardly at all as long as we remained here in Sierra Leone, but as soon as we moved to America it would change emmensely. Too much to handle, possibly.
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