:)

As my time here is coming to a close, I’m realizing that I am going to miss it so much. I’m also coming to terms with the fact that my study abroad being over marks a new phase. I have been thinking about being here for so long, and now I’m remembering that more stuff happens next. I don’t know if other people can relate, but the fact that this is my last summer is a big deal. Of course there will be other summers, and there may be other summer breaks, but this might be the last year that I think of myself as a child on summer vacation.

I find myself thinking that I have one more year to be a kid, and even though I know that largely depends on the way I choose to look at things, I start to panic. This semester has helped me see (I think) that I’m kind of an adult already. Yesterday a music video came on the television and I realized that the pop singers are almost all younger than me now. It’s not like I am looking at the TV and thinking, “Oh, when I’m there age…” Now I’m just like, where are these kids’ parents? How badly could your 15-year-old heart have been broken? And, do these people have any idea how their little play-time filming an extravagant music video is impacting the culture here? But, I digress.

My point, if I have one, is that one of this semester’s themes has been growing up. I’ve noticed that every semester has a theme or two that describes what area of life I learned the most about. It’s like I’m in an old “Seventh Heaven” episode where all the subplots relate and conveniently tie together at the end. Some past themes have included attachment, death, love, time, privilege, and priorities. This semester has had a few, but growing up is a huge one. When I get home I am going to be almost done with college.

I’ve noticed that everyone has ways of organizing their personal history and future in their minds. Little kids in the States often say things like, “But that was when I was 4-years-old, now I’m 5-years old,” or, “I’m a second grader now.” Some people mark it with religious ceremonies, prom, graduations, or marriage. Some people organize their lives around tragedy and spend the time in between torturing themselves with the past and bracing themselves for the future.

Even though I have been learning to stay in the present, nearing the end of college has forced me to come face-to-face with the time line I have put my life on. It ends after college. That may sound naïve, but everything up until now was laid out for me. I have made choices that have lead me to where I am, but at age 10 I probably could have told you that I would go to school the next year, have a summer beak, go to school again, have a break, and continue that until I was 22. My choices became obsolete after a few months because another year of school came. But next year, I’m stepping into groundlessness.

I’m not that stressed out about it, I’m just more in awe of how I got here. And I don’t have any way of predicting the future. I can’t count on another summer break or another year of school. The time after I graduate isn’t divided into clear chunks – it’s an abyss (“And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you” – Yeaahh Nietzsche). I don’t know what I’m going to do after I graduate, or if I’ll get married, or how much more school I will do. Even if I could know the things I'll do, I have no way of determining when.

Being here, or maybe being anywhere but in the realm of close familiarity, has definitely solidified who I am. I know what I care about, what I want, and what I believe. It’s also a lot clearer what I don’t know, and that’s a lot. It’s SO weird being the oldest out of the group. I know I keep saying that, but it is really weird. (Side note – I’m so happy Melendy and I are roommates. I love her. We are both the oldest and I have never been in a situation where the age gap was so exaggerated. I feel weird saying that, as I have a long history of not associating age and maturity, but I think we have all agreed that it’s true)

I was doing a project for a class last year that involved me interviewing people close to me about my own strengths and weaknesses. One of the things Mom told me was that she thinks I sometimes don’t recognize that older people have experience and know a lot that I don’t know they know. I think I have changed that at least a little, and I’ve realized that everyone does things for a reason. People don’t just go around doing things. I feel like I’m on the opposite end now, because some of my friends here don’t seem to realize that there is more to a situation beyond what they can see. That’s not just culturally and in terms of age, but in all circumstances. Someone doing something that doesn’t make sense to you does not make that person stupid. At the same time, though, I’m learning that my friends have reasons for not yet being able to see other people’s reasons.

Anyway, enough ranting for one post. Dad is coming! I feel like I’m about to have a child and experience life all over again through their eyes. Ahaha, it’s true! Everything will be new to him and I will discover new things because he will see things differently than me. I even feel really protective. It’s bizarre.

A really good quote that my professor, Ailish, told me a few years ago. I forget who said it, “Transformation is not about what you get, it’s about what you give up.”

Random things about Tanzania that don't want to forget:

-Everyone goes out to the clubs, and it isn’t weird that professors and students are both there.
-Personal space doesn’t exist. Privacy doesn’t exist.
-There is a very, very small number of girls that wear pants, and a lot of them wear congas over their pants.
-“Ninakupenda” means both “I love you” and “I like you” in Swahili, so people tell you they love you all the time (and I never really know if they really mean they LOVE me, as I hear it, or if they mean they like me, or if maybe neither of those concepts exist in a way that is comparable to home). They also say they miss you all the time.
-Everyone is your brother and your sister. If a child’s parents die, the friends, neighbors, or family members raise them. Most families have at least a few orphans (or kids who’s parents can’t support them) living with them.
-If you say that you will go to someone’s house, you go to their house. None of this, “Oh yeah, that’d be cool…”
-Everyone holds hands. So much hand holding.
-If I go somewhere – like to the school I volunteer at, for instance – people want to carry my bags for me.
-If I am sweaty someone else will wipe it off. Not a joke.
-If you ask someone how old they are, they often have to think about what year they were born and count. Birthdays aren’t really a thing here.
-I've been asked if I'm Black American more than once or twice.
-The other day I was walking home from school and a couple started talking to me. They introduced themselves and asked me to come see their home so that I know where they live. It was getting dark, and I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t be walking into a back alley with strangers, but they were really nice. We talked for a minute and they really wanted me to come have dinner with them at some point. They walked me home and were really, really nice.