Five years ago today, I boarded a plane for the second time in my life. I had never left the country, but had decided to spend my three weeks in between semesters of college in Tanzania. WHAT? People ask me all the time when I’m going back and I always make up some bulls**t excuse about why I haven’t yet, but the real reason is this: When I got back from my trip, I fell into one of the longest depressions of my life and I don’t have the heart to go through it again.
As someone with crippling anxiety, self-doubt and all the other things you can think of, my first reaction when I got off the plane was, “What have I done?” Within a week that thought turned into “How am I supposed to leave?” I guess that’s what happens when they place you in a host family with the cutest five year old boy you’ve ever seen. No, seriously… the cutest boy in the entire world. His name is Yasri, and although I’m sure the experience as a whole had the same impact, I pinpoint my first morning tea with him as the moment that changed my life.
I should probably take a step back first. I told a friend that before our last year of college ended I wanted to do some type of trip abroad and I wanted there to be some type of volunteer work involved. Had I told any other friend this, it would have been a casual conversation and then nothing would have been done. However, this particular friend I told is the definition of Type A. The next day I was given a choice between two organizations and was told to look at the countries and what the volunteer work consisted of and to name my top three. If any country on each of our top three lists matched, that was where we were going. Tanzania was number one on both. We convinced one more friend to go and five months later we were on a 20 hour trip to East Africa. Again, WHAT?
Here’s a quick list of all the things running through my mind in the first couple of hours after landing:
When all you’ve ever experienced is Missouri, a trip to pretty much anywhere can shock your system.
The next morning I was introduced to my youngest host brother, Yasri. He knew about 5 words in English and I knew about 5 words in Swahili, but we did a lot of talking and a lot of laughing. My friends and I taught him and his friends “duck, duck, goose!” and he taught us a game that I’m almost certain had no actual rules.
All in all, a typical day consisted of tea and bread or fruit for breakfast with Yasri, either a ferry ride to a primary school in Dar es Salaam to teach English lessons, or social media lessons and hanging out at the Kigamboni Community Centre and then English lessons for any adults that wanted to join at the Centre for night class. There was a lot of fun mixed in as well. A New Year’s Eve party on the beach where we stayed the night in a hut. A day of soccer with boys at a local orphanage we delivered books to. Some snorkeling in Zanzibar. A night club in Kigamboni with the boys from the Centre (the main act didn’t take the stage until 3 a.m.) The Saturday show at KCC where everyone around came to the centre to watch performances. The days flew by until one day I woke up and had to leave.
I had never experienced joy quite like knowing someone for 3 weeks and already loving them. I had also never experienced gut wrenching sadness quite like knowing someone for 3 weeks and having to say goodbye.
When I got home I was miserable. Aside from being grateful for a shower and a Dr. Pepper, all I felt was sadness and guilt. Guilt that for even a second, I thought 3 weeks teaching English was noble or somehow made me a good person. Guilt that I knew everyone there had changed my life for the better, but I wasn’t sure they could say the same. Guilt, guilt, guilt. This lasted for months. This feeling of being incomplete didn’t go away until I decided that travel and cultural interaction was what made my trip so special. Experiencing a world other than the one I knew left me better off and although it was good to acknowledge communities aren’t changed in 3 weeks from someone passing by, it was ok to replace guilt with gratitude.
We owe it to ourselves to make the most of our life. That probably means something different to everyone, but for me it means being open to new adventures, cultures, people, ideas and experiences. Getting to know strangers and being kind. This is how I’ve tried to live my life every day since.
This is my first post so I thought I’d go ahead and make it the most personal. Feel free to ask any questions or to leave any comments about your most memorable trip! And stay tuned for my next post when I tell you about the time I quit my job during a layover in Detroit…
– Liv
Here’s a few more pictures from the trip!
livlovelacewanders.com 