The Good in Goodbye

Our last day began as any other day would: we had the same routine and same schedule, but there was a different ending planned. Our plan was to leave after lunch, which would mean saying goodbye to most of the students. For Class VI and Class VII, we had planned a dance for Friday night. Throughout the day, I got notes, hugs, and “I will miss you” messages but it was all very surreal for me. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I may never see these kids again and that our last day would really be our last day. We filled our lunchtime with picture-taking and distributing notes. As lunch came to a close, we needed to prepare for our dance, which meant we needed to leave quickly. With 270 students, 17 teachers, and all of us, we had a very chaotic goodbye. So much so that it was hard to be emotional because we were so overwhelmed. We hopped in the car and drove away from LOAMO. Just like that, and we were gone. We had no time to process everything that was happening around us.

 From the moment we got home, we needed to set up for the dance. From the food to the decorations and everything in between, we were all working our very hardest to ensure the preparation was complete. Once everything was ready, the students rolled up in the buses. Seeing them come out in their best clothes, all looking like a million dollars, made the night in itself. All the students blew our minds with all their hidden dancing talents; it was hard to recognize them not in school. When we wrapped up the party, the headmaster and the director of the school lead a ceremony to say goodbye to the volunteers. They thanked us for all we had done for LOAMO and the mark we had left on all of them. What they were not aware of was that LOAMO had left an even bigger mark on all of us. The time had then come for the students to leave and for all of us to go our separate ways. It is always hard to see someone cry, but to have someone break down in your arms and know that they may never see you again was heart-shattering. The students were rushed into their buses and we had a similar experience to the one earlier that day. For the second time that day, I was waving goodbye, grasping hands, and hoping the memories would last a lifetime. Then, the buses  left and the students were gone.

                There is nothing wrong with goodbye. In this instance, we were merely shorted on time. Although it was quick and hard to comprehend, one thing will be for sure. No matter how tightly hands are held, how far the car is followed, or how many tears fall, the strong bonds that are built can never be broken. The connections will be in our hearts forever. 

Looks Can Be Deceiving

Being on this service trip has really shown me the true meaning of the saying, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Behind everything here – the people, the places, and the culture – there is a story. With each story, there is a different depth and new emotions. One of the best parts is being able to see these things without knowing a lot about what is behind their image. The better part is longing to know the whole story.

                Our home visits are a great example of this. Monday afternoon, Krissy, Keelin, Sophia, AJ, and I visited a teacher’s mother’s house. The teacher, Madame Juliet, is bright, colorful, energetic, and beautiful – inside and out.  At first glance, all you see is how happy she is every day. When we got to know her story, it turned out that there is so much more to her. Living in the house was Madame Juliet’s mother, Patricia, and three of her nieces and nephews. They live with their grandmother because their mother left the family and their father, Madame Juliet’s brother, is jobless and can no longer support them. As a teacher, Madame Juliet is paid just enough to get by, which is very little. Regardless, she supports her grandmother, her niece, her two nephews, her brother, and her own family. It is not an easy task, as they are constantly in survival mode, but because Madame Juliet has such a big heart, she carries on with the challenge and manages to keep it all going. Seeing how hard she works is really inspirational, but it is hard to understand unless you have heard her whole story yourself.

                Another great example are the students at LOAMO. Take Noela for instance, who struggles through so much, some of which she knows very little about, and yet she carries herself as if she has everything in the world. It is also visible within each student in the classrooms. This week, I was honored to help out with Class Five. Each student is unique and different and has their own talent, but not all of them are open about it. The majority of the classes consist of the teacher writing a lesson on the board, having the student copy it down, and then the teacher checking to see if they have correct answers. There are the students who don’t pay attention, and it is noticeable when checking their work. There are then the students who can answer all the questions and everyone knows what they are capable of. Then there are the quiet students who don’t seem to mess around and don’t seem to pay attention. When going around to check the work, it is the complete opposite; they are the first ones finished, with only one or two wrong. It really puts into perspective the student’s perceived image, and what is really true.

                Being amongst a culture that prominently keeps things in and is much more closed off is a huge contrast to home. It has my mind working full-time by trying to imagine everything that is hidden behind a smiling face. Although it is hard to immediately find the background of a person, place, or piece of culture, discovering the final story is truly fascinating. 

Time Is Not Of the Essence

Here in Tanzania, time is low on the list of priorities. As a part of the culture, the people here are so much less concerned about being right on time and being so precise. Back home, we have every minute of every day planned out, making sure we get where we need to be and that our timing is right for what we have to do. Here, the schedule is wrapped around a different concept.  Instead of “I” and “me”, it is “us” as a community. If someone here were to be late, it would be no issue. The reason behind being late would have to do with being a part of the community. People would be helping somebody else and spending their time on someone other than themselves, and with the loyalty here, they would finish the task at hand. It’s really amazing to see the difference in how time is spent, in this culture and in America, and the reasoning behind it.

To begin in my class, so that we could teach and help, I needed to gain the teacher’s trust. I asked questions, learned stories, and investigated my teacher, all so I could gain her trust.  After a few days, Teacher Doroth and I were as close as could be. She called me sweetie, gave me hugs and kisses, shared whatever she had with me, and trusted me with her class. It wasn’t an easy task and it wasn’t quick, but after I did gain her trust, it was amazing. When I took the time and had the patience, gaining my teachers trust was worth every moment.  

On Sunday, we took the second half of the day to visit an orphanage called Save Africa. When we got there, everyone was shy and didn’t know what to do. The kids were doing their thing and we were doing ours, and we just didn’t know how to join together. All it took was one pass of a soccer ball, one move, one slight task, and we were intertwined.  After that, it was as if we had known each other for weeks. We were holding hands, and dancing around, and we all became inseparable. It took some time to warm up to each other, but without that time we wouldn’t have become what we were. Later on, at the orphanage, we discovered this puppy. He was pulling the chain attached around his neck and crying his loudest cry back behind a tree. As we went out to the field in the back, the kids decided to bring the puppy, Ziggy, along with us. As we got closer to him, we noticed that he had sores all over, prominently on his ears. He obviously wasn’t healthy, and he was covered head to toe in fleas. Just until Krissy could take him to the vet, I wanted to help him out. So, flea by flea, I pulled them off of him and discarded them. There were so many and it took a lot of time because they are so small and they are so fast. With, each flea I removed, I knew I was leaving Ziggy a little better off. It was the same notion: the more time I took to de-flea him, the healthier he would be, and the better I felt.

Because people are more relaxed about time and are more open with their schedule here, I have so much needed time to think. I have time to think about things at home, in the media, and about family and friends, and with that time, my mind is able to run wild. With all this time, and all this thinking, I come back to one thing. I come back to the astonishing fact that I am in Africa. Not only am I in Africa, but I am working in a school and teaching children; I am stepping towards a better place not only here, but to a better me. So the next time you are rushing out the door, checking your watch, or cramming your calendar, pause. Stop and give yourself some time to think, because we don’t know the value of time until we really experience it for ourselves. 

Every Little Thing You Do Is Magic

If you want to be happy, you must surround yourself with happiness, and being at the school with the kids is exactly this. There is not a moment that goes by that my heart is not filled with warm content or that there is not a smile drawn on my face. Every word that is spoken, every smile on their face, and every laugh they laugh, all makes the day superior to any other.

                Every lesson, every class, and every day with the “babies” fills me with complete joy. It doesn't matter the situation- if the slightest joke is made, the whole class is cackling. There is something about those four year olds’ little laughs that turn any person into mush. It doesn't matter if you are in the best mood or the worst mood; their laughs give you no choice but to laugh along with them. The children also get super hyped about learning. Whenever they are repeating something or answering a question they are told to “yell to the town”, and they surpass it by miles. These children can scream not only to the town, but to all of Tanzania. The notion that they can put so much energy into learning is so remarkable.  There are things that happen every day that make them all exceptional, but then there are the little bursts of happiness that make each day uniquely amazing.  One morning, Nikko and I were dragged upstairs with a group of students. The girls and boys asked us to sing them a song. Within no time, we broke into “The Cup Song”. We had a group using cups to make a beat, and the rest were singing the song. We were off pitch, out of tune, and off rhythm, but it was still the most beautiful music because we were all doing it together. When we finished, they asked for another song, and I instantly thought about “The Macarena”. The students knew parts of it, so it began with the two of us and a few students. Progressively, student by student, the whole class was dancing with us. Seeing each one of them participating in something they learned in seconds was so heartwarming to me. They then brought the dance to their assembly line, which made my day.

                Being in class with my teacher, Teacher Doroth is a joy in itself. She recently asked me to teach her English, and I agreed. I had no idea what I was in for. When I started, it made me realized how much about English I don’t really understand. After a little while, we were talking about the word “speckled”. I showed her my freckled arm as an example. I told her my parents used to tell me that my freckles were angel kisses. She had to process it a little, but when she finally understood, she broke out laughing. She sat there and giggled the cutest giggle I had ever heard for a solid five minutes. Everything about that particular moment had me smiling ear to ear.

Yesterday, four of us traveled to a student’s home on a home visit. The young girl’s name was Noela, and we went and asked about her life and her story. In summary, her mother died from HIV, and Noela is HIV positive, but doesn't know it. On top of all that, she has a skin disease and doesn't have enough money to get medicine for it. Knowing the story was, of course, eye-opening, and it really hit all of us, but there was something else that was so powerful about the situation. Coming to the house, we were greeted by her grandmother, Ana, who hugged us all and was so welcoming. Her father was then so open about everything, so happy to share their story with us, and so supportive of Noela. Personally, seeing the environment that Noela lived in and who she was supported by turned the story upside down. It made her story SO amazing because she was in such a supportive setting that it seemed nothing that could go wrong. 

 Today is Saturday and we spent all day cleaning everything in the school. Each person was assigned to their individual classrooms, and they cleaned their tables, chairs, walls, blackboards, and floors.  Of course, the work was challenging, but every bit of it was worth it. At the end of the day, we got so many compliments about the job that all we completed and it just felt SO good to know that they were so thankful for what we accomplished. My heart was filled with delight knowing that I had done a task that had made so many people happy.

                Everything about being here and helping the children is so amazing. Being here is not only a privilege, but it is life changing. Not only the special parts of everyday make me smile, but just the mere presence of the students is pure bliss.

Simple is the New Complicated

We have so much and think so little of it, while there are so many other places that have so little and can turn it into so much more.

Living in such a fortunate area is something we take advantage of. Not many people really realize what we have and what we are able to do. It can be told and shown through pictures and videos, but there is no way to see how fortunate we really are without actually experiencing it firsthand. Yesterday I spent my morning sharpening pencils for the “babies.” At home, twenty pencils can be put into an electrical machine and eaten up into a point in no time. Here, there is no machine, there is no hand twisting sharpener, there is no “do it yourself.” Twenty pencils, one blade, and that’s it. I let teacher Doroth teach the children so I could take on the pencils. As I was hand sharpening, I just thought about all the effort that is put in for such a simple task. The most amazing part is that they are so appreciative. They don’t know the luxury of a machine doing it, they only know the simplicity of what they have now, and so for that they are grateful. We also have to copy each lesson by hand into each workbook for every subject. At home all we need to do is make one copy, place it on the glass, and make as many photocopies as we want. It’s amazing how easy some things are for us and how little we really know and care about. It is astonishing to me that, even though we have an excess of simple items that make things easier, we don’t think of giving them to others where they might be of better use. The things we have at home that would be so overlooked could be so treasured here.

Although the people here are less fortunate than many other people, they would never think to complain. Some people just don’t know anything better than what they have. But others, who do know what luxuries and privileges they don’t have, simply know how to live better. People who have so much are so used to everything that anything less wouldn't do. I know because I am guilty of it myself. I am not proud of it, but it is the way I grew up and what I was surrounded by. But these people, these people are in their right mind, small-minded with big hearts. They are the ones doing it right and it makes me disappointed that more people can’t live up to this lifestyle.  

Mountain Out of a Mole Hilll

Coming to Tanzania was a whole new experience, not only for me, but for everyone. The only past experience similar to this was when I traveled to Cambodia, so naturally, that was the only picture in my head. I was expecting poverty, dry nature, and African people like you see in the movies. As I arrived, I was awakened to the actuality of where I had really come. Where I was looking for the slums, I came to see the majority of the area urban and well taken care of. While I was scoping the landscape for sand, dry grass, and tumbleweeds, I stepped off the plane into a gorgeous site of greenery and vibrant flowers to paint the view. Finally the already interpreted impression of the people I was going to encounter was changed in an instance. Their looks, their attire, their greetings, and their personalities, were all different than their projected images from the films. The combination of all these first impressions left me in awe. If simplicity and serenity had a distinct picture, I would be currently living in it.

These past few days have really brought out moments where my emotions were sparked and they left me thinking. My first day, arriving at the school, I was fearful of how the day was going to all happen. I was assigned baby class, which I later found out was a class of children ages 3-5. The day progresses from a lesson or two, tea time with porridge, another lesson, nap, and then finishing off the day with a nap or resting time. Day one and the porridge was poured into everyone’s plastic cup and then offered to me.  Politely, I took the cup and inspected it, took a sip, and thought about it. While I was thinking I found that this could be a small snack to one person, but for another it is an instant connection. Somehow, throughout the constant exchange of looks, I could tell that we were all thinking the same thing. “She’s drinking what I’m drinking, were matching, it’s the same thing.” Our mental connection led to so much more of our physical connection.  During the times outside, starting from the first break first day, it had progressed from me running and having a few small children following, to me sprinting only to look back to a large group of children full on chasing me. The smiles on their faces as they “capture” me and then tickle me to death are enough to power a whole country. To add, the attention that is targeted at my hair is crazy. Back home I get comments as well, but here, not one moment goes by that the blonde ringlets are not strung through children’s fingers or are being whipped around by a free hand. Any other day, I would back away, but there is an unmentionable quality about those children that eliminates the feeling of tugging and pulling and turns it into an act of curiosity and love. The little things at home that would blow over our heads or amount to nearly nothing are so much more here with these children, the little things here are the bright light that shines within each and every one of them.

Today I was sitting and talking with the teachers of my class, Teacher Careen and Teacher Catherin, and I brought up that my mother’s name was the same, only spelled different. I wrote it down and showed her how it was spelled and she just looked at me and smiled. “I am your mom in Tanzania, okay?” and my heart just flew and I had a smile ear to ear for the remainder of the day. 

Loopholes in Life

The African Slave Trade and the Holocaust. Both harsh, both uncalled for, unnecessary, and yet are so very different from each other. Where the Holocaust involved around 6 million Jewish people, the Slave Trade was roughly 12 million. Double the lives. These two massive events  were both acts of belief that people of a certain race or religion are lesser value than others. Today, we know that this is completely untrue and that we are all equal, no matter who we are. There may not be a "bright side" to these events per say, but in every dark tunnel, no matter how small, there is a speck of light. I wanted to find that speck of light, that speck of hope, from the outcome of this terrible event.

The main purpose of the Holocaust was genocide, killing off an entire race. Just putting myself in those shoes, knowing that someone wanted you dead and everyone like you, family, friends, acquaintances, strangers, all gone, compares to nothing like the actual feeling and experience. But in every dark tunnel, no matter how small, there is a speck of light. I wanted to find that speck of light, that speck of hope, from the outcome of this terrible event. A very famous individual who lived through this was Anne Frank. In "The Diary of Anne Frank", Anne talks about how close her family was and how they became even closer as they were in hiding. I think its amazing how families are split and sent off to camps, with or without each other, but this family was lucky enough to find an alternative for a while, and it impacted them in a positive way. Although their journey didn't end as they had probably hoped, they had made the best of it and they did whatever they could to take what they had and appreciate it. 

The sole purpose of the African Slave Trade was cheap labor. Stepping into that position, not being able to make decisions for yourself and then being pushed around and treated unfairly, solely because of your skin color, its not humane. Although this gained a good economy and had the landowners rich with not only money, but with people to do their work, the slaves weren't being treated as equal, and there wasn't a positive for them. It all took time, and a lot of effort, from the first slave who decided to stand up to their owner, to little things that people did like Rosa Parks, to making a huge difference. It's people like Martin Luther King Jr. who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world that they do, those are the people make things happen. As I stated, there is good in everything, and although this certain "good' took its time, it payed off. As a result of the African Slave Trade, my personal opinion through reading interviews of survivors, and merely observing the mentality of Africans throughout history, is that these people have the highest level of tolerance and perseverance. The masses of people who stood for all the inequality and unfairness, the next generation, the next, and so forth, all looked for a better outcome but couldn't see their way through. As time passed, they figured out slowly that they wouldn't stand for it anymore. This trait has been carried throughout history up to modern days and sticks with the culture and the race to hopefully live on forever. They know what they've been through, what they are capable of, and where they wanna go. 

Even though the Holocaust and the African Slave Trade were tragic events and didn't end in the greatest outcome, the people who were lucky enough to survive and live through it all, or even just carry on their legacy, they are the light at the end of the tunnel.