experience.

what is just as interesting to me as trying to grasp the african culture, is watching the other westerners interact and grasp the same thing.

i've found there are several ways people experience such a different culture. some must come with a totally different perception on what it will be and spend the majority of the time on the defense. they complain endlessly and discuss what they miss about home despite how short time had passed since they left. they battle the differences instead of accepting what they see.

while all volunteers and travelers come with different backgrounds, there seems to be several levels from this "defense" point where by which the new culture is embraced. the furthest point from defense would be those travelers that "go native". this occurs when westerners walk around a bit like mayors of their new-found city, dating locals and putting themselves in the middle of both good and bad cultural traditions. this is obviously a risky way to embrace new culture, but at least they will leave with powerful stories on how africa changed them.

isn't that the point of learning about another culture? to change your perspective, beliefs or world view? i would find it hard to believe anyone would sign up for an extended trip in a third world country without the intention of gaining something new.

those that come and fight against the differences can't expect to leave with much. if you come here thinking it wouldn't be hot, or that you wouldn't be treated differently - read a book before you book your next trip. you will go home satisfied to be where you left, learning little about yourself and the world you live in.

the more we open ourselves up and embrace different languages, traditions and ways of thinking - the more we in turn change ourselves.

i watch people walk through the slums, staring at the hundreds of families living in mud huts and listen to them complain that they're hungry. or those that don't understand why their school is so poorly organized. one volunteer tried to convince a mother to not take her daughter to the market before school because that made her tired and therefore it was difficult for the volunteer to teach.

we cannot expect to change another culture. we can only accept the way it is, live it, breathe it and try to understand it.

the minute we let go of "our world"... of "our ways" and "our view" is the minute we finally get it. we leave with photos, stories and homemade crafts - but what will really stay with us forever is the experience of allowing ourselves to become absorbed.

time.

time is the only "thing" we all actually have. while it's not something we can hold, it is what defines our lives and facilitates our memories.

in the western world time controls us. while it is us that believe we are controlling it, with our time management classes, our outlook schedules and our triple booked hours... it is indeed the factor that controls our lives.

we panic if we're running late, stress about finding more time and even budget out our "free time". we live in hourly boxes, square days and columned months.

occasionally, i find myself complaining that time is moving too slowly. that if only i could speed through the boxes i don't want to do, i could get to a box i'll enjoy. usually though, we look back at our memories created throughout a particular day, hour or even a moment and complain time went by way too fast. it slipped right through our fingers... leaving projects incomplete and we then realize what we thought were our priorities received the least attention in the end.

in africa time is not an object of desire. all they own is time. leisure is prioritized and the clock maintains little purpose. the sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. time passes, little changes. a meeting at ten means see you around 11. no one stresses, no one is concerned. no one is controlled by the idea of time.

while some may point out issues to this perspective... the main point is, does it really matter?

whether you live your life planning every second or ignore seconds entirely... seconds always pass at the same speed. moments pass and experiences happen and we have absolutely no control over it.

we can either spend our life worrying about the idea of time, or... we can step back, breathe and take each second as it comes, controlling things we can - not what we cannot.

appreciation.

i feel like i have been talking and thinking a lot about what i don't like about the culture and experience here in tanzania. so, i figured i should discuss what it is exactly that sticks inside my soul and has burned inside my heart since the minute i left last year...

i love the clean smell in the air right before it rains. i love the taste of the mangoes. i enjoy driving on the road as wild aloe plants and sunflowers grow wildly alongside of my journey.

i love the village children and hearing their voices say "good morning", regardless of the time of day. i love the classroom songs and little dances the children perform after a student answers a question correctly.

i admire the general carefree attitude, (despite its tendency to veer towards complete inefficiency :) ).

i love pretending not to care what time of day it is, so i too can be on "african time", but secretly checking my phone just in case.

i adore local churches and hearing the songs of praise and appreciation for all their gifts from god. i love even more looking at their drawings of their future church... a real concrete building where they can worship as soon as they raise enough money.

i love meeting people who know it is their mission in life to help the less fortunate in their country. people who have little themselves, but unconditionally give because that is just what you do for people who have less.

i love sitting on couches of families in the slums and listening as they tell me how they just saved up enough to start building their own home. they show me floor plans and the ten bricks they have begun to accumulate for when the time comes.

i love seeing hope in people's eyes.

i love watching children learn and knowing that this desk, this chalkboard and this teacher is their one chance to overcome everything they've ever known. that even if they don't understand it today they will one day realize, it is education that gave them wings.

i love telling people they're beautiful and watching them smile from one ear to the other and knowing that despite their un-brushed teeth and dirty clothes, they are indeed truly beautiful people.

i love the untouched beauty of the country. the wild animals and trees... they are images i had previously only seen in dr. suess books, but here they are real and more alive then in any zoo or garden you could ever imagine.

while i could go on forever... the most important thing of all is the feeling you get. it's something un-describable. something you have to see to truly understand.

distrust.

i was raised to always tell the truth. i was taught to be honest at all times.
while i grasped this concept at a young age, i have never valued the importance of it like i do now.

in tanzania, (and other third world countries i would presume), there is an underlying theme of distrust. a strange paradox then develops between "trust" and "happiness".

as one of the poorest countries in the world, tanzanians all want money. money to eat, money to pay rent, money to buy a pair of shoes and put money on their vodacom phones. at the same time as they are trying to obtain these objects or money, there is a sincere lack of trust as everyone else is feigning for the same things.

i have never seen a community more fearful of one another and because of this there is a constant sense of fear and discontentment.

the novel, geography of bliss, explores ideas and interviews individuals from across the world to identify what drives personal happiness. while his book concludes there is indeed no happy utopia as we all dreamed, there are reasons that some places are "happier" than others. one of the most important of these factors, is trust.

i honestly don't believe the people of tanzania are unhappy people. i think usually, they are quite joyous and appreciative. but i think they are scared.

scared of not having money and fearful of what happens when they do. the one thing they all want, is the one thing that is making them unhappy.

i just visited the home of five new orphans. their mother and father were shot by their brother in law because they found out they had $5000 to their name. mind you, they lived in the mountains and this was their life savings. they were finally building a concrete home and moving out of their mud hut. the mother lived a few days after being shot several times in the stomach, but just passed away two nights ago. the children now have no place to go and no money to call their own. all over $5000.

theives are stoned to death in the street if caught, or wrongly accused. but people lie about seeing theft and about who was the theif. is death the appropriate justice for a man stealing a few dollars to feed their children?

there is no justice in a environment of distrust. people fear their government and know their police will not help them in need. who can they call on?

money doesn't actually buy happiness. it buys things.
things can be taken just as easily as money and without these prized posessions and objects of desire, what are we left with?

it's almost as if, if we had no money we would have nothing to be taken, nothing to be feared. we could be, in some respects, happy.

i don't have any answers, i'm just posing questions.

Massai Village

Just a quick snapshot of the tour i took in Massai village... more to come, just wanted to share.

We went in their little huts where they lived, walked aroudn their village and saw their school (all donated funds), was goign to watch them kill a goat to eat the meat and drink the blood but once it started moaning all us ladies decided against the kill. so we saved a goats life. then we danced with the locals, jumping up and down during their chants and ended the tour with purchasing hand made beaded bracelets.

interesting culture, too many flies.

Back in Arusha

So I arrived.

the burnt air smells the same, the sounds of swahili and massai chants are the same, but somethng is different.

maybe it is because i've never traveled to do the same experience twice, but everything that shook me and awed me last year, feels somehow commonplace.

the stories of abused wives, impoverished children and watching the families inside their wooden and tin huts doesn't evoke much inside of me.

have i become immune to extreme poverty?

maybe it has something to do with the fact that ever since i left last year, i've been writing grant proposals, application essays and website copy that reflect the emotions i had felt, that i literally have become emotionless.

of course i was thrilled today to see zuma and my beloved children again. hearing their songs of mango trees made me happy and watching them recite their english words made me feel proud to have made some sort of impact on their lives. but as i walked through the slums, i felt no saddness, no heartbreak.

i still have weeks to come and learn more, see more and feel more, so maybe i will.
while i am happy to be back at cheti school, surrounded by the faces i have been thinking about for a year, i have a feeling this trip will be something different.