Fears

I’m back!  Ok, I didn’t really go anywhere (minus a trip or two to Dar for meetings/trainings), I’ve just been on a writing hiatus.  I wrote one blog last month but I never posted it (I will post it with this one) and I don’t really know why.  I think it just got lost in my daily routine, a routine that has become somewhat devoid of responsibilities.  I went from having too many things at the beginning of the year to helping the secretary sort rice (yes, you read that right) after I’ve taught my math lesson for the day.  Well, if you know me relatively well at all, you know that my brain refuses to relax…ever.  So while I’m sitting and staring at the wall and waiting for time to pass, the gears in my head are starting to burn.  A lot has happened to feed the fire and I almost wonder if the time I have to think has been the greatest gift I’ve gotten from Peace Corps.  This last year has included a lot of self-reflection that I know I never would have gotten had I stayed in the states because I was too addicted to being busy to accommodate it.

In the last month, a few things have happened that have stirred up some serious emotions of all different kinds.  The most recent actually happened last night when I received a phone call from the US Embassy.  It is not uncommon to get phone calls from random Tanzanians calling just to greet you or harass you for one thing or another.  They don’t even have to have met you.  Example: my friend used my phone to call a bus driver about a month ago and the bus driver still calls me to say hi.  I don’t even know who this guy is!   Anyways, when an unknown phone number comes up on my phone, I take a couple of seconds to decide if I want to answer or not.  I answered thinking it might be Peace Corps and got a little huffy when I heard an unknown Tanzanian speaking on the other end (thinking it was the bus driver again).  Then when I heard him say “US Embassy” I got scared that I was going home and the first thing that popped into my head was “Oh my gosh! What did I do?”  My heart jumped into my throat.  Then I heard him say one of my students’ names, a student who applied last month to participate in a leadership program in America.  They chose ten students from the whole country of Tanzania and Laila is one of the lucky ones who will be boarding a flight to America next month for a 24 day trip to Denver/D.C.  When I told her, I saw so much fear in her eyes (the good kind that comes right before something amazing) and today as we started to prepare her for her journey, she told me that she feels like throwing up.  I laughed and explained that that’s exactly what I was feeling before I came to Tanzania.  I am bursting at the seams with excitement for her and I can’t wait to hear all about her adventure.  I know she’s going to have a wonderful time and learn some amazing things.   All she has to do is be brave and get on that plane.

While my heart is singing with pride and joy this week, it had its fair share of crying last week.  One of my biggest fears about going into the Peace Corps was that a family member would pass away while I was gone.  Even on my last day in America, to calm myself down, I was writing to myself that “I can’t stay here and wait for people to die, I have to live my life and hope that they will still be here when I get back.”  It put things in perspective for me at the time but, of course, didn’t eliminate the possibility of it happening.  On September 30, my Grandmother passed away.  The bone head that I am, I went to school to teach anyway thinking I could pull it off, but instead spent the first part of the day choking back tears and finally throwing in the towel and going back home to spend the next two days thinking about her (I'm serious when I say I'm burning out the gears in my head).   I’m really grateful that I had the opportunity to spend some time with her before I left but now that I can’t anymore, I think of all of the things I wish I had been brave enough to ask her or talk to her about.  I only really interacted with her consistently as a child and I wish that I could have heard some of her stories after I had become old enough to hear them.  In the end, like everyone else, she did the best she could with what she had and I am incredibly proud to be related to her; a woman who always followed her heart and just wanted to be loved in her own way.  I did love her, I do love her, and she will always be in my heart.  Not being there and not being able to attend the memorial is really hard but it only makes me more excited for Christmas... WITH MY FAMILY! (This is my transition from sad to happy.  Sorry about the abruptness.)

After FOUR years, I am finally going to be spending Christmas with my Mom, Dad, and brother.   The decision to visit the States during my service makes me extremely ecstatic while also filling me with insane amounts of anxiety.  Right now, though, emphasis on the ecstatic.  I can’t wait to spend some time with people back home, speak English, and take hot showers (even if it’s to escape from the insanely cold weather and not necessarily just to be clean). It’s going to be AMAZING. And get this, when I go to a restaurant, they’re going to give me a menu AND I will be able to choose anything I want AND the restaurant will actually have it.  I’m counting down the days!  Ahhhhhhhhh!

Anyways, here's a picture of Laila, my student who will be heading to the US next month!