I do not like to think of myself as old, because age is primarily a mental construct. However, when I remember that the average life expectancy in Côte d’Ivoire was 55, it makes me feel both ancient and super lucky. Immediately after arriving in Cabo Verde, I could tell that the life expectancy was definitely higher here, not because there are necessarily excellent medical facilities, but because people eat a lot of seafood (not fried) and vegetables. There is also a serious culture of outdoor exercise. I just looked it up, and people here live (on average) to the age of 76. If you cannot do math quickly, that is a full 21 years more than the expectancy in Côte d’Ivoire. Wow.

However, since I believe that most of aging is just mental, it seems like picking up Portuguese would be easier than it actually is. It’s not a dealbreaker from a life perspective to live without an excellent command of Portuguese (or Kriol, the local language). Still, it might be helpful to know what I am agreeing to in nearly every meeting I attend. Luckily, I like surprises! Ha!

When I think about age, I want to go back and shake my younger self for some of the assumptions I’ve made over the years. Take, for example, when I was 18 years old and had recently left college. I worked at a small, delightfully fragrant specialty grocery store. At that time, I met a coworker who wore cool bands in her beautiful hair and smelled like spice. One day, she told me that her band was playing locally and invited me to the bar to hear her sing, but I had to admit, sadly, that I was not yet 21. I suspected that we were about the same age, but when she shared that she was 32, I could not believe it! A 32-year-old woman in a band? With cool hair? Who smelled like spice? What?!?!?!?!? Ah, young me, so so mentally undeveloped. If young me could see current me, what would she think?

Short Story Interlude:

If you think that my assumptions about age were bad, just listen to the story about how I came to work at that delightful grocery store in the first place. To make the story flow faster, I will outline it as a series of mistakes that were made, rather than the true saga that it is. If you are a parent, this may be a painful read, but please have hope, as I turned out all right in the end.

Mistake # 1: Don’t let your irresponsible child take herself on her own college tour

My parents sent me to DC to visit some colleges and stay with my older sister for a few days (who was a college student and just a year older than me). Since this was in the 1980s, and all funny things included a band of misfits coming together for a good time, my trip to DC included my hilarious friend Tom and my German exchange student named Alex. Just writing that made me wonder why my parents ever approved of this idea.

Mistake #2: Hold on to your shit

When Alex, Tom, and I arrived in DC, taxi cabs seemed like a strange and innovative phenomenon to me (I was from a small town). In my overwhelmed state, I proceeded to leave the giant folder with all the college tour schedules and meeting contacts inside the taxi. Oooops.

Mistakes #3, #4, & #5: Genuine Dumbassery

Once I left the folder in the taxi, my schedule suddenly seemed very open and unencumbered by appointments. Remember the days before the internet and cell phones? There was no information, and so much time! It was delightful. Besides, I had seen the lookbooks (remember those?) for all the schools I was planning to visit, so why would I really need to see them in person?

I cannot blame my sister, Tom, Alex, or any of the numerous other college students I interacted with for what happened next, but let’s say there were more taxis involved and maybe a few bars (and some fake IDs). When you are from Cape Cod and there is a drink named the Cape Codder, it would be a shame not to honor the homeland, am I right? There was also the “Revenge of the Cape Codder,” also known as my head touching the inside of a toilet bowl. Tom and Alex were not at all helpful during this period.

Mistake #6: I lied to my parents

When I got home from my trip, my parents asked me eagerly how my college visits had gone. Since I swore Tom, Alex, and my sister to secrecy about the events surrounding the visits, I cheerfully told them that things were great and that I loved American University. And I thought I would get away with it until……

Mistake #7: I went to American University, and I hated it

And when I hated it and left after one semester, nobody (especially not my parents) felt bad for me. Since I was not in college, I had to get a job, and that is where I met the 32-year-old with fantastic hair who smelled like spices. And I learned that “cool” comes in many ages. That is a lesson that I have never forgotten.

Since Cabo Verde has a fitness-conscious culture, Tim and I joined a weekend hiking event up in the spectacular volcanic mountains. The drive was harrowing, the views were incredible, and the crowd was delightful, with all ages represented. But I really need to dedicate more time to learning Portuguese. I am not old. Oy.