Blog Update: Goodbye Par-tay

So my goodbye shindig went well. I was completely dreading the whole thing but it worked out fine. I wanted to sneak out but realized that was impossible. I really don’t like the attention or saying goodbye to people- I much prefer avoidance. But I think it was a good thing- it sort of made everything more real. Everything happened after lunch. The head teacher thanked me for everything as well as Rovina the nurse and a reluctant social worker. The kids put on a gymnastics show for me (“Whitney today we do show for you”) and I passed out lollipops. The education department gave me this dark brown outfit that’s basically Capri pants and a shirt with little white zebras. It’s REALLY Tanzanian and I thought it was really sweet. I was given an Amani shirt as well. I expected to be really depressed and thought the whole thing would be awful, but I was actually just really touched from all the love from the kids. It made me feel much better about the whole thing. Anyways, I started crying, which was so awkward and embarrassing, but I felt really touched standing in front of all the kids. I told them I’d miss them all and I’m so very grateful for their friendship. The best gift of all was a huge stack of cards that Anna came in to make with the kids last weekend. I’m hoping to make a book for myself out of drawings and thank you letters. It’ll be a really great booster to look at when I’m feeling crappy about life. I feel like a little part of me is missing knowing that I’m leaving the kids behind. They’re my family. I’m not afraid of change as much as I’m afraid of feeling incomplete.

Here’s a list of my future plans:
-Apply to grad school
-Plant a vegetable garden
-Go kayaking regularly
-Listen to new music
-See my dear friend Ang when she comes to visit CA from NYC
-Sell African fabrics at the Ojai Farmers’ Market
-Get a job (boo)
-Take a dance class or some kind of fitness thing
-Be an amazing pen pal to the kiddos
-Find some inner peace daily
-Eat a lot of tacos
-Bake a pie
-Make a sandwich
-Send my dear friend Anna some care packages

What I’ll miss about my life in Africa:
-Waking up on the weekends reading and drinking tea in our little country house and doing my laundry by hand & letting it sun dry (surprisingly)
-Speaking Swahili
-The kids (of course)
-Cheap travel
-Phones that don’t have voice mail (it’s a beautiful thing)
-The calls to the mosque that go off five times a day
-Our three-legged wonder dog
-Milk tea
-Mangoes
-African beaches and long weekends spent exploring
-All the beautiful walks to hidden waterfalls in the villages
-Not having shitty/depressing news pressed upon me in my apt/house or on the street
-Barbeque for less than $2
-Being able to buy an EMS fleece-lined jacket for $2.40
-African fabrics and the beautiful women that wear them
-People who say hello and are friendly and dress colorfully
-Greeting every elderly person I see to show respect
-Little TZ kids in the boonies who randomly give me high fives and scream in my presence (like I’m Elvis)
-Vegetables and fruit sold everywhere


It’s coming down close to my departure date, December 3rd, and while I do feel like a dark cloud might soon be following me, right now, I feel at peace. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt at peace in my whole life, so this is definitely a new beginning after twenty-four years. I am worried about my transition back- all the luxuries and somewhat feeling detached from the land (i.e. buying food without having any idea of where it’s coming from and even washing my clothes in a machine will seem so separated). One of my favorite things about living here is feeling connected to things. I have clothes I own that I physically labor over to be kept clean. I buy fruit and vegetables from the people that grow them, or at least know the farmer in some way. When it doesn’t rain, there isn’t much produce for anyone to eat. I really think the world would be in such a better state if we were all more connected to our lives and the land we live on. Maybe it sounds trite, but I think everyone would just be happier. There would be an unwavering sense of balance. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to buy some fruit in New York, but because it came on a plane, I couldn’t afford it. This is clearly something people can avoid going to farmers’ markets, but it still doesn’t seem the same as having almost all your food products come from the country you live in. You want to eat a chicken- you need to know someone who has some chickens to sell and kill that day. It’s so strange that the most self-sufficient countries are the ones that struggle so much. I hate how eating in the U.S. is so solitary and so taken for granted and so unappreciated. No wonder it leaves you feeling a little more lost.

I’m so grateful for this year, partly because I feel so much more comfortable in my own skin. So many people have this image of Africa as a place filled with AIDS and misery and hunger. Not that those things don’t exist, but they are definitely not defining. People are so proud of where they come from, so unshakingly optimistic, so honest in their welcoming. It’s hard to say that about many other places, particularly ones with money. Even in the face of all the difficulties, most of the men and women and children I know are so thankful that they are survivors. Death is so much more common here, but in my opinion, so is life. People celebrate their life as a gift so much more than I’ve seen in richer countries, and there’s something incredibly genuine and embracing about that.

I will definitely miss going into the villages and walking through the jungle and finding a beautiful waterfall somewhere and going swimming with friends. I think I’ll miss those moments that feel so pure. Purity is a rare thing in this world. It’s definitely worth celebrating. In the end though, I feel like it’s okay that I’m moving on. I will always feel connected to life here. This place will always feel like home; more so than any other place I’ve lived. But I feel okay saying goodbye to a place that’s given me so much and made me realize what’s important and what is worth hanging onto.