The Stories of Two Guinean

There are two people in Forecariah that I will not soon forget. Their characters have been forever imprinted in my mind, and I believe they are two of the strongest and most human people I have ever met.

The first one I would like to tell you all about is Aminata Kouyate, my host-mother. Aside from her physical beauty, she has a charm about her that is difficult to describe in words. Her strong body carries the heaviest bidons of water with grace and ease, in a manner that leaves me speechless every time. She is the first to rise and the last to bed, and her entire day is spent taking care of her family and taking care of me. Her smile and charm warms up the coldest of strangers, but there is also a force within her that makes me sure that she is the strongest woman I have ever met. She is tall and thick, and she moves in the slow Guinean manner with purpose but not haste. She performs her thankless job everyday with little reward, and I could not thank her enough before I left Forecariah for all that she had done for me. She is a woman I will work to model myself after. If I could capture a hundredth of her charm and beauty, I would be satisfied.

The second Guinean I would like to tell you about is Oumar, Eden’s host-uncle, and the generous owner of The Plantation. Oumar studied botany at University, but never took a job in the field. Instead, he became an artist, a difficult profession in a country where few have disposable income. Oumar met a woman and had two children with her, but she left him because she believed that an artist could not properly support her and her children. After separating, both of Oumar’s children passed away, so now he lives alone at the age of 45. Since his wife left him, however, Oumar has had great success with his painting. He traveled to France to show his work, and he sold many of his beautiful African paintings that were directly inspired from his Guinean environment. He now lives in Forecariah at the Plantation, a hotel with a bar and nightclub. He welcomed all Americans with his endless generosity, and he always said that we were his family. He treated us as such, he argued, because his sister is now living in San Francisco, married to an RPCV, and he hopes that someone welcomes her the same way he welcomed us. Oumar often has so much energy about him that he can’t stop dancing. He loves American music, and he is often found dancing alone as if no one is watching. At other times, though, he can be found sipping a beer and smoking a cigarette in a somber mood alone outside his bar. These are the times when Oumar seems most human – you see his loneliness and solitude for an instant, but as soon as he sees you arrive, his mood changes and his smile lets you know how welcome you truly are.

These two Guineans have struck a cord of beauty within my soul. Their strength and their warmth capture what it means to be human, living the same existence as the rest of us. This beautiful humanity is what brings us together as a race, as a people, and I am lucky to have found this common humanity in a place so far from my home.