Choices

It's Christmas and I'm happy to be with my family, but part of me wishes I was still in Africa. I miss it there. I've shared some of my pictures and told some of my stories, but it all seems so superficial compared to what I actually experienced. I don't know how to explain to my family how this trip to another continent has actually changed me, but I think they can tell I'm a little different...I'm a little happier, a little more appreciative, a little less tolerant of people who complain, a little more loving, and a little less concerned about anything & everything.

In the last couple weeks, I've realized how many choices we have in America. Did you know Trader Joes has about 40 different types of cheese?  I'm in a house with two refrigerators, both packed with food, yet we still can't decide what to eat. And have you been inside a Target? It's truly amazing. I feel so grateful to be in a country with so many privileges, but I'm concerned about what it's done to us. I'm surrounded by kids who have hundreds of toys, but still "need" more...adults who are going into debt to buy the latest and greatest presents for their loved ones...and friends who have arguments about which elementary school to choose for their five year olds. So here I am enjoying a holiday in my most familiar environment, but I can't stop thinking about Christmas in Africa and about what some of my friends there did for the holiday. I'm guessing they went to church. (Hmmmm...there's an idea.) Here are a few people who are most on my mind...

Kassanda & his two boys

The first person I met in Africa became one of my all-time favorite people in the world. Kassanda was the taxi driver who met me at Kilimanjaro Airport the night I arrived and one of the last people I saw before I left Africa. Just thinking of him makes me teary-eyed.

I'm not sure why Joyce liked me right away...maybe it's because I liked her, or maybe it's because we jumped rope together. I don't know...but I do know that I didn't give her a proper goodbye. I told her I'd be back in a few weeks and she had the exact date memorized, but I never returned. I'm sure she's over it, but I can't seem to shake the guilt. If I had one regret on this trip, it's not coming back to see her again. Luckily for me, I captured her superhuman trick on video:

Gerard lost his entire family, except one sister, in the Rwandan genocide. He witnessed unthinkable acts of violence and betrayal against his loved ones. I can't even imagine functioning after what he's experienced, but he seems happy and hopeful and patriotic. He was my personal guide for five days and on day two he became my Rwandan boyfriend (or so it seemed). On day three he asked me to marry him. I tried to explain that my parents wouldn't know what to do with five cows, but his persistence was endearing. Part of me actually considered it (the mentally ill part). He recently sent me an email about a teaching opportunity in his village. Nice to know that's an option.

Babu would kill me if he knew I was using this photo.

I think Babu Bob may have been my father in a past life because I feel a connection with him that is unusually familiar. He has spent the last 17 years trying to help the most needy people in East Africa and has been betrayed time and again by its corrupt and dysfunctional governments. But he's still there! His health has suffered as a result and it's actually a miracle that he's even alive. If the only thing I did in Africa was help him, my trip was totally worth it.

Jackie with her mom

I also keep thinking about Jackie, the 16 year old cook at Orphans of Kilimanjaro. She is such a kind, gentle person, but has the maturity of a ten year old. This is why she's not in school (no such thing as special education where she lives). She's usually very silly and giddy, but she sometimes gets very sad and quiet too...which is why I keep thinking of her. I'm worried about her future and I'm worried about how attached she gets to volunteers who come and go out of her life. Her mother has many other children, so Jackie is pretty much already on her own. I've had friends tell me they expected me to return from Africa with a little adopted baby, but it's someone like Jackie who I really wanted to take home with me.

There is a HUGE difference between life here and life there. I don't know which one is better, but I do know I would like to find some sort of balance between the two....a balance between consumption and sustainability; between comfort and inconvenience; between wants and needs. And even though part of me is still emotionally in Africa, I'm ready to move forward and take what I've learned to change the way I live. I've decided not to return to Monarch when my year's leave is over. I've also decided that going to  Guatemala and hiking Machu Picchu is no longer part of the plan, at least not right now...but I do feel like it's time for something big. I'm trying to listen to my gut and see where it takes me. I'll keep you posted.

Kwaheri

I have mixed feelings about leaving this part of the world knowing that I'll probably never return. I feel sad and tired, embarrassingly privileged, sentimental...and sweaty. I already miss people I've met here and know I'll miss other things too, like sunset soccer games, hearing each morning's call to prayer, cool looking creatures, Tanzanian brews, "hakuna matata" attitudes, dala dala rides, street vendors, unsupervised gangs of children, Swahili Coast dhows, and maybe even instant coffee. But I'm ready to leave and anxious to make some changes in my "real" life.
 

Swahili Coast kids

Centipede? Millipede?

 

Sunset soccer game under Mt. Kilimanjaro

This trip has changed me by helping me realize, more than ever, the importance of kindness, love and living life without fear. Here are some of my (not-so) profound thoughts about the last few months:

Life is much more simple than many of us make it. I think it all comes down to survival and happiness...and it's all relative, of course, depending on where and how you live. Many of us seem brainwashed to think we "need" so much to survive and that we "need" even more to be happy. Survival here is much more raw than it is at home. Many people are struggling to just get the basics: clean water and calories; while folks at home are devastated because their new car got a scratch or their latest computer gadget broke. This is all very obvious, of course, but being here has really put it all into perspective.

There is so much sadness and despair in this world...but the resiliency of the human spirit is mind blowing. I've met people who (by American standards) have no reason to be so damn happy...survivors of mass genocide, AIDS orphans, people who have lost everyone and everything they love. Next time I'm feeling "woe is me" I will think about these people, my inspirations for finding true happiness.

If you live in the United States, you are one hell of a lucky person. This trip has made me realize how easy we have it at home...and even though we complain about our government, politics, education, taxes, medical care, etc...WE HAVE IT MADE.

One more thing, I've been reminded (once again!) of the Earth's beauty. We live on an incredibly diverse and complicated planet with amazing creatures - large and small. Over the last few months, I've snorkeled in protected coral reefs, made eye contact with mountain gorillas in their home, watched hippos mate, and have fallen in love with the fascinating world of birds...but I've also seen pristine land turned into trash fields, natural spring water turned into streams of raw sewage, the raping of our oceans, and endangered species used as hunting practice for the rich. I'm worried about our future, but I've decided not to let my fear control my own future...which I guess is the biggest lesson I learned.

Eco-Tourism at its best

The Silverback who allowed me into his home...the greatest highlight of my trip to East Africa!