Friday, May 17, 2013

Initial Thoughts...Many At That


Tarehe kumi na tano Mei

            I land safely in Moshi, Tanzania at night after masaa ishirini na nne (twenty four hours). I step off the plane and take a breath of air in—it’s clean and you can smell the grassland. I am the last one from my flight out of the airport (too classic!). My visa took dakika thelathini (thirty minutes), na alafu (and then) I was stuck behind someone in customs who was arguing with the officials about an item he was bringing in. I greet my new family, the Franciscan Nuns, who are holding a sign up for me. After exchanging greetings, we head to the van to start back to Moshi on one of the only ways to travel, the Moshi-Arusha Road. We talk for a bit, but they can see nime choka (I am tired), and so they let me collect my thoughts, reflect, and stare out the window.
            I think about life as a Tanzanian, observing people traveling and conversing on the side of the highway in the dark. I know I could never imagine or feel what their life is like. “Can you believe I get that feeling immediately?” I write in my journal. I don’t know what people’s struggles are like. These people on the roadside, what are their goals, their North Star? While I fully acknowledge this is a generalization based on, really, very little, I can’t help but think of it.
            I self-reflect even more and acknowledge how scared I am. Little communication, a foreigner that represents money. Can I make a difference here? Oy, my mind just keeps flipping over. Maybe it’s the jet lag. I think of wazazi wangu, dada wadogo zangu, na rafiki zangu (my parents, my younger sisters, and my friends). Again, they support me and it flat out gives me strength when I think about it.
So, sasa (now) it’s real, there’s no turning back. Part of my brain, a fraction, wants to run away, not face it. But Lorraine noted, ‘If you’re squirmish and uncomfortable, you care and are taking it seriously.’

Under the safety of a mosquito net, writing in my journal and reading kitandani (in bed). Lots of thoughts, especially at the end of the day.

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