I have fallen in love with this small country in East Africa, and saying goodbye is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I arrived two weeks ago knowing I’d fall in love with the kids in my class but didn’t imagine all the beautiful things I’d fall for as well. Some things will be etched in my memories for the rest of my life: like jumping with Maasai warriors; walking into Class 3 and being greeted with twenty-seven smiling kids saying, “Good morning Teacher Grace,” in unison; or how the sky looks when the first rays of the sun come over the summit of Mount Meru early in the morning. There are also things that time will slowly take from me, like the bright yellow of the sunflower fields, how the air smells after a thunderstorm, and how the broken English of the locals sounds.
My parents have always told me, “All good things must come to an end.” Heartbreakingly, my time in Arusha is coming to an end. I’m coming home with more than I came with; each student in my class has taught me something. Alice helped me understand the importance of laughter, Ebenezer told me that your happiness should come before everything else, Enock taught me to persevere no matter your circumstances, and Emily taught me to enjoy the little things in life. Going home, I want to honor the kids at LOAMO and the lessons I learned from them. I want to remember that laughing is essential, especially when laughing at yourself. I want to remember that I’m the only one who can let someone else make me unhappy. I want to work as hard as Enock every day, doing things I’m passionate about. I want to look at the little things in life and remember that they all add up to enhance life’s beauty.
Before I fell in love with the kids, nine thousand miles was just a number. Now that I love them with every piece of me, it’s the number of miles between us. Saying goodbye will break my heart in two, and when I miss them more than anything else, I just have to look up and remember the sun I’m looking at is the same one they’re looking at. The moon I look at is the same moon they look at. With this, I hope I can realize that we aren’t all that far apart after all.
Showing posts with label Tanzania Blogs 2018. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tanzania Blogs 2018. Show all posts
Monday, July 30, 2018
Friday, July 27, 2018
Enock & Ebenezer.
Public speaking, being abandoned, and moths all make my head spin and my heart race. These things scare me more than anything else, but my fears pale in comparison to what my students here face every day. When I talk about my CGA trips, the question I’m asked is, “What is the hardest part?” I always answer with, “Leaving the kids.” I say that because leaving them breaks my heart, and it is one of the hardest parts, but listening to their stories is just as hard and just as heartbreaking.
Enock and Ebenezer are two of the brightest boys I’ve ever met. They exude love and happiness, and after meeting their mother and visiting their home, I know why. The house is a twelve by twelve-foot room. There is a double bed on the wall across from the door where the boys and their mother sleep, a couch is pressed to the wall on each side of the room, and a coffee table between them. On the floor next to the buckets of water, there is a small kerosene stove; there is no electricity or running water. The house was dimly lit; the only window was boarded up. At first, I was confused about why the room was so dark, but after meeting Mama E, I knew why. Enock and Ebenezer’s mother has lived in a dark world for thirty-eight years; she is completely blind. While at their house, I talked to her about a lot of things. The topic she could really lose herself in was talking about her boys. She told me about their love for school and for football (soccer) but didn’t say anything about their father at first. That soon changed when I discovered that when Ebenezer was four and Enock was three, he took them away from Mama E. He had them for almost eight years. Each day was filled with abuse, neglect, and endless worry for Mama E. While they were with him, he would beat them if they asked about school and made them live outside so they could watch his herd when the boys were seven. Mama E told us that the only thing that scared her more than the boys starving when school wasn’t in session was their father taking them again.
I can’t begin to imagine what the stress of fearing your children may be taken from you at any moment is like, or the fear of not being able to feed your children when schools aren’t in session because you don’t have a steady income.
Enock and Ebenezer have each taken a piece of my heart and have changed my life for good. I was fortunate enough to see both boys thrive not only in a classroom setting but also on the football field. Although you may find the boys cracking jokes in the back of the classroom, they are always on their A-game, the first to finish, and are two of the hardest working kids in my class.
Even though listening to the stories of the people here is one of the hardest parts, it is one of the most important and impactful experience someone could have while on a CGA trip.
Enock and Ebenezer are two of the brightest boys I’ve ever met. They exude love and happiness, and after meeting their mother and visiting their home, I know why. The house is a twelve by twelve-foot room. There is a double bed on the wall across from the door where the boys and their mother sleep, a couch is pressed to the wall on each side of the room, and a coffee table between them. On the floor next to the buckets of water, there is a small kerosene stove; there is no electricity or running water. The house was dimly lit; the only window was boarded up. At first, I was confused about why the room was so dark, but after meeting Mama E, I knew why. Enock and Ebenezer’s mother has lived in a dark world for thirty-eight years; she is completely blind. While at their house, I talked to her about a lot of things. The topic she could really lose herself in was talking about her boys. She told me about their love for school and for football (soccer) but didn’t say anything about their father at first. That soon changed when I discovered that when Ebenezer was four and Enock was three, he took them away from Mama E. He had them for almost eight years. Each day was filled with abuse, neglect, and endless worry for Mama E. While they were with him, he would beat them if they asked about school and made them live outside so they could watch his herd when the boys were seven. Mama E told us that the only thing that scared her more than the boys starving when school wasn’t in session was their father taking them again.
I can’t begin to imagine what the stress of fearing your children may be taken from you at any moment is like, or the fear of not being able to feed your children when schools aren’t in session because you don’t have a steady income.
Enock and Ebenezer have each taken a piece of my heart and have changed my life for good. I was fortunate enough to see both boys thrive not only in a classroom setting but also on the football field. Although you may find the boys cracking jokes in the back of the classroom, they are always on their A-game, the first to finish, and are two of the hardest working kids in my class.
Even though listening to the stories of the people here is one of the hardest parts, it is one of the most important and impactful experience someone could have while on a CGA trip.
Monday, July 23, 2018
More Than the Sahara.
There are no words in the English language that could begin to describe this place. Although I got here just a few days ago, I am head-over-heels in love with this country, its people, and the incredible experiences we’ve had so far. Everything we’ve experienced has exceeded all of my expectations, including those of the appearance of Arusha.
I knew Africa was more than just a desert, but I never took the time to picture anything but the Sahara. Arusha has to be one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. Instead of seeing a sandy abyss and cacti for as far as the eye can see, I can’t look more than ten feet until I see a giant tree, grass, and flowers. The air always smells of a campfire, and the rain smells like flowers and cut grass, much sweeter than the rain back home.
The experiences we’ve had here are also much different than anything I’ve ever been a part of. Cradle of Love was the first of many adventures that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Cradle of Love is an orphanage for babies and toddlers who’ve either been given up or their family can’t care for them. While we were there, most of my time was spent in the nursery with a year old baby named Christopher. In the few hours I spent with him, I discovered that his mother had died in childbirth, and his father gave him up because he couldn’t care for him. When the Dadas told me about Christopher’s past, I wanted to burst into tears. Not only because I had gotten so attached to him, but because I knew he had no one to take care of him or love him. It was sad to think that he wouldn’t have his mom or dad around to watch him grow up.
All of the people I’ve met are extraordinary examples of human beings and can be described as colorful, welcoming, and kind. From the shopkeepers in the bustling market; to the Maasai welcoming us into their bomas, these people have taught me a vital lesson. People matter more than time. Seeing as this comes from a country buzzing with life, it must be important.
I am over nine thousand miles from my home, yet Arusha, a city, lying at the base of Mount Meru, has quickly become a place that feels like home.
I knew Africa was more than just a desert, but I never took the time to picture anything but the Sahara. Arusha has to be one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. Instead of seeing a sandy abyss and cacti for as far as the eye can see, I can’t look more than ten feet until I see a giant tree, grass, and flowers. The air always smells of a campfire, and the rain smells like flowers and cut grass, much sweeter than the rain back home.
The experiences we’ve had here are also much different than anything I’ve ever been a part of. Cradle of Love was the first of many adventures that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Cradle of Love is an orphanage for babies and toddlers who’ve either been given up or their family can’t care for them. While we were there, most of my time was spent in the nursery with a year old baby named Christopher. In the few hours I spent with him, I discovered that his mother had died in childbirth, and his father gave him up because he couldn’t care for him. When the Dadas told me about Christopher’s past, I wanted to burst into tears. Not only because I had gotten so attached to him, but because I knew he had no one to take care of him or love him. It was sad to think that he wouldn’t have his mom or dad around to watch him grow up.
All of the people I’ve met are extraordinary examples of human beings and can be described as colorful, welcoming, and kind. From the shopkeepers in the bustling market; to the Maasai welcoming us into their bomas, these people have taught me a vital lesson. People matter more than time. Seeing as this comes from a country buzzing with life, it must be important.
I am over nine thousand miles from my home, yet Arusha, a city, lying at the base of Mount Meru, has quickly become a place that feels like home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)