Sing while losing a friend--Leila RIP March 1-July 28

Tuesday night after a particularly frustrating day, I got back to my house around 5:00. I was almost in tears on the walk home, frustrated and angry with a former "friend" who is now trying to steal money I lent him when he was sick, avoiding me whenever I try to find him, evidently intending to avoid me in order to never pay it back. I got home, sat down on my bed outside, and two of the 5 year old neighborhood girls came over, informing me in Fulfulde "Elizabeth, your dog died. A car." I walked up to the road with the girls, thinking in my head, "no, no no no no." There were a few kids playing around the road, and I asked them "Where?" I couldn't see any thing and the whole time was thinking, maybe she was just hit, maybe she'll be ok. But they pointed, and there she was on the other side of the road down a ditch on a bed of grass. I imagine she died instantly which is good. It is also good that I didn't see it. I sat there and cried for a little while before picking her up and taking her back to the house. I was so sad, and so frustrated, thinking, "why this now?" Life is hard enough here as it is, why does my best friend here have to be taken away too? You don't know. I would say that she was probably my biggest joy in my life here, along with Fulfulde, and work with some of the communities. So this has been a hard week. At first I thought, well what's the point? I don't really want to work any more. I don't really have much desire to be here anymore. Maybe some of you might think it's a little sappy or silly to have a blog posting about a dog dying (and if so, haha, you'd be thinking very Cameroonian!)It is one thing that I am an animal person, and love animals very much. It is another thing on top of that to be in a different culture, where the life and work is frustrating a lot of the time, where you're always speaking a foreign language, where sometimes you feel like you will always be an outsider, where you don't have the friendships you had back at home. So for me, Leila really was my best friend here, always greeting me whenever I came home, always there at the house, going with me to the field, to the mountains, sleeping with me during thunderstorms, and outside any night. Two of my friends came over the first two nights and stayed with me, which really helped, one of them the next morning digging a grave for her, and burying her with me, and then staying and helping me with work in my field and getting water and chores around the house. Thursday night was the first night for me sleeping by myself in the house since I'd moved there, and it was very empty, very lonely. However, life continues, and I am learning how it is simply that "Leila's not here any more." I am happy that she had the best life possible for a dog, running free, having lots of love and shelter and food, having fun. I'm happy that she and I could be together a little bit. And also that in the beginning, when I really hadn't developed a lot of relationships, that were close, she was there for me. Some of the people in Mafa Kilda have been really surprisingly sweet. I say surprisingly just become the idea of dogs/pets here is completely different. There is not the connection or importance for animals as "chez nous" but on top of that dogs in particular are looked down on as mangy, dirty, not really valued creatures. So most people were just like "Don't cry (crying is also not appreciated or allowed--I sure am sharing goal Peace Corps number 3 with them!). Just find another one. Just get another dog. That's all. It's no big deal." But then my neighbor came over and just sat with me the first night for a while, not saying anything. And her husband, my landlord joined us a bit later, and kept saying "Oh it's awful. It's terrible. It hurts." And I'd say, "It's ok, it'll be alright, it happens." And he'd respond "No but it's awful." And they'd check on me the next few days. It was as if they understood. As they would because the whole neighborhood, and especially their family loved her as well. And the students of the pastors school astounded me, as they heard through the grapevine and actually came to see me and offer condolences! That does not happen when a Cameroonian's dog dies. I think some of them knew she was like my child, comparatively. That night I wrote down my favorite memories and things I was thankful for for her, and maybe I'll add them, or maybe I'll just send them to my family, who perhaps are the only ones that would appreciate that and not think I'm going absolutely overboard with being sad about a pet. Life goes on, and now Leila is no more. Or maybe a butterfly.

My friend Jessie wrote a song for me and Leila that night that she died. It has a beautiful melody and I wish I could upload the singing, but alas all I can do is the words. We sang it together when we planted flowers on her grave.

Jessie's Song:

Leila, Leila, Why'd you have to go?

Leila, Leila, Some things we'll never know,

Oh Leila, Leila, Leila my friend,

Oh Leila, Leila, I'll remember you until the end, it's true,

Oh Leila, Leila, Leila goodbye.

Leila, Leila from now on, to me, a butterfly you'll be,

Oh Leila, Leila, Leila, Leila, Leila Bright Eyes,
Leila, Leila, Leila Goodbye.