Karibuni!!

Mambo, from Tanzania!

These past two weeks have been absolutely incredible… definitely a whirlwind, as expected. Since I arrived on Dec 5^th, I’ve been sweating non-stopped (seriously, I didn’t think a human could sweat this much), eating MANY meals with neighbors and friends, and trying hard to begin to understand this new culture that I will be a part of for the next two years.  It’s kind of like a weird time-warp stage… I’ve been here for two weeks, but it feels like I just arrived AND that I’ve been here for months. Strange, but awesome. Rather than going on and on about general life here, I thought it would be more interesting to share a few stories with you from my experience so far. Hope you enjoy!

Lost in translation
Language here is going to be a struggle, and I’m already feeling frustrated that I cannot communicate or express myself as openly, honestly, and easily as I can back in the states. Caitlin and I have had three Kiswahili lessons so far (taught by a woman who teaches at Gonzaga and lives nearby), and they’ve been very practical in terms of being able to purchase mcheze (rice), maharage (beans), and other staples at the Duka (little shop across the road from our house)… but I still find myself dumbly gaping at folks who greet me while I’m walking, unable to get the correct responses straight. I am getting better, and can survive a brief, friendly exchange of “Mambo!” “Poa!” “Safe” “Vipi Safe”… somewhat. But any time the conversation gets a BIT more deep, I just smile and chuckle, shaking my head. Even my name is a struggle… most people call me “Bet” or “Beti” or “Betany”. I haven’t decided which to introduce myself as… thoughts? What’s amazing, though, is how patient and welcoming people have been, regardless of my hopeless lack of language skills. A Tanzanian will switch to English, even if he or she knows very little, or will smile and teach me a word. It’s a great feeling, and quite contrary, I think, to how many folks are treated in America if they cannot speak English very well. Language is such a connecting force, but I’ve found in my short, SHORT time here that some level of trust and friendship can be forged through non verbal means as well. WHEW!

During this past Monday and Tuesday, I left my comfortable house in busy Mabibo to spend time on my own with a host family out in the rural part of Tanzania. The family was amazing- a mother who teaches at Gonzaga, a father who works during the day, a house girl who helps with cooking and childcare, and two children- a five year old boy and a two year old girl. I was nervous about communication before going to stay with them, since the mother teaches Kiswahili and doesn’t have a very strong grasp on English, and the children are just learning, but the silence was ok. The two year old would chatter away in Swahili, while I kind of smiled and laughed, making really weird facial expressions so she would giggle. We also spent a LOT of time throwing a stuffed dog around, doodling on some paper I brought (they were OBSESSED with writing things and scribbling), and watching weird Tanzanian music videos (the pop stars all dance like me… kinda awkward and silly. I knew I’d fit in here). Just sitting with them was pretty sweet. If you know me at all, you know I’m a TALKER. I rarely shut up. This was a really different experience, but still awesome.

“Karibu”: the arts of stomach expansion and Uno
If there is one word that I hear more than ANYTHING, it is “Karibu”, which, as mentioned above, loosely translates to “you’re welcome”.  It goes WAY beyond being a polite response to “Thank you”, and people use it ALL THE TIME. When you enter someone’s house, you hear “Karibu!”, “You are most welcome here”. When somebody offers food, they will say “Karibu”, meaning “please feel welcome to all that I have”. When you are leaving a house or someone’s presence, they will say “Karibu”, “You are always welcome to consider this your home, and me your family”. It was SUPER overwhelming at first, and still is. The AMOUNT of generosity is ultra humbling, especially since I feel as if I cannot adequately express my thanks quite yet, but it has made my experience very communal so far, and the transition easier. Some examples of “Karibu”:

My community mates and I have eaten dinner at a number of families’ houses who are friends with the JVs here. When you are invited to dinner, you eat at least two, usually three FULL plates of food. You STUFF YOUR FACE. As soon as your plate is empty, the host will insist “karibu, karibu!”, sometimes spooning food onto your plate for you. Not that it’s considered rude to refuse the outrageous amount, but eating a LOT of food shows your appreciation for their hospitality. Thus, stomach expansion. I’ve eaten more than I thought possible, of food that I’ve had to adjust to. I’ve been luckier than my housemate, Cait, though. She discovered an eyeball after munching on brains last week in her pile of food. The trooper that she is kept on powering through.

I’ve also seen the “Karibu” culture in the amount of visitors who come to our house. Pretty much every day since I’ve been here, at least two children have come over to hang out, learn English, or play Uno. I have become an Uno master. Seriously. Even without the language skills, we get INTO it. That, and Jenga. Spending time with the children and peers in our neighborhood who come to visit, sometimes to just sit and listen to music, is pretty awesome, and makes this experience seem more permanent than just an immersion trip.

Home away from home

While I’ve only been here for a short time and I have SO much more the learn and adjust to, I am already starting to feel like this is turning into a home. I have had really deep conversations with my housemates, Cat and Shea, who are here for their second year. We’ve talked about culture, sexuality, women’s rights, spirituality, LGBT issues, and are still able to all dance around like idiots and watch Lord of the Rings on someone’s laptop. I am pumped to form relationships with Tanzanians and the culture here, but it is so nice to have Cat, Shea, and Caitlin here as my rocks.

Something that happened last week that was not so fun- I got sick. Not an intense, needing to go to a clinic sick, but stomach pain and a lot of time curled over the toilet (sorry for being graphic) sick. Probably my body just adjusting. For the first few hours, I was really upset. I was in a new place, didn’t know what was wrong, and did not have the comfort of my friends or family. I wanted nothing more than to be home. Worse, it was the middle of the night, and I didn’t want to wake anyone up. Unfortunately, Caitlin was soon awake with the same symptoms. I say unfortunately, because no one wants to be sick, but it ended up being a positive thing. Alternating use of the bathroom, talking each other through the stage of sickness we were at (“You’ve got the chills? Yeah, I had that about an hour ago, it’ll stop eventually but then you feel really really hot, get ready), and getting water for each other, we helped each other through. It definitely sucked that we were both sick, but being there for the other was so important, and turned the really negative experience into something good, something that I walked away from feeling comforted. I have a family here, like a family, I’m sure we’ll disagree and want to kill each other at times, but it’s a family.

Tomorrow the four of us will travel to the northeastern corner of Tanzania for a retreat with the seven other volunteers who are in country. Today, we must say goodbye to Gretchen, who has completed her two years of service and has been such a fantastic person to learn from during the first few weeks. It is a time of transition for everyone, but I can feel it becoming a bit more stable.

Also, Caitlin and I filmed a little video showing what our house and neighborhood looks like. We haven’t figured out how to upload it yet, but probably within the next month we’ll have it up. WOO!

Thank you SO MUCH to everyone for your thoughts. I miss you all, and look forward to hearing from you, either from email or letters! Believe me, getting letters here is SO exciting. I hope you are all enjoying the time leading up to the holidays!

Amani,

Beth

My last plate of nachos

Hey there everyone! I apologize for the enormous gap in my writing, which I credit to the fact that for the past four months, I have been experiencing such a wide range of emotions- it would have been a bit silly to keep you updated on all of them. But man oh man, SO much has happened since August! The strange limbo of a preparation stage that I have been floating in since graduation has come to an end, and I finally feel somewhat 'ready', in the most modest sense of the word. My stomach is still doing those annoying somersaults at least a few times a day, I get teary-eyed (or straight up bawl my brains out) with each "good-bye", and I am constantly reminded of how very little I know about the experience that I am about to begin. But with all that, it's awesome. Surprisingly I'm not afraid, and although it is extremely difficult to part with the people who have been a constant up until this point, I can feel their love and support, and that makes it more exciting than upsetting. To everyone who has been or grown close to me, no matter how recently-- get ready, 'cause you're with me in spirit (cliched as that sounds), and our plane leaves in about 10 hours.

Let me back-track for a bit, because I do still want to share some things about JVC orientation (alll the way back in July) and some highlights from the "prep limbo stage" that I'm transitioning out of at present. (The word "present" has become extremely important to me recently, and I imagine it will continue to hold significance throughout the coming years... I've been trying my best to be HERE now, wherever 'here' may be. Probably why I still don't know a whole lot about where I am off to or what I'll be doing, but definitely why I feel so blessed to be surrounded by the people and places that have left an imprint on me since graduation. It's not a blind ignorance that I'm entering this experience with, but a more confident knowledge of and appreciation for the people and experiences that have absolutely ROCKED here at home, at present). So here are just a few anecdotes from the highlights of my waiting period. I hope they shed some light on where I'm at.

Orientation: July 17-August 1
It's tough to wrap the whole orientation up into words, because it felt like I was on another planet. Seriously. Two solid weeks of deep reflection, prayer, relationship building, meditation, a silent retreat (YES, I was silent for two days. Unbelievable), an investigation of the JVC foundations, dancing (YAY!), and about 40 of the coolest and most admirable folks I have ever met, all volunteers and shipping off to various international service sites (either through JVC or RdC, a comparable program that sends volunteers to Ecuador for a year). It was a whirlwind of activities, structured info sessions, meals together, socials, and optional daily masses.

I'd like to share specifically a day in which we focused on "Spirituality", one of JVC's four pillars (along with simplicity, social justice, and community). This spirituality session was lead by Carlos, a guru of a man who spoke with such passion and intentionality that I was immediately hooked. He began by asking us to sit. Just sit, in silence, for three minutes. This was our initial exposure to meditation. He shared with us, and I'm paraphrasing because it was four months ago, that "It is so important to pause and just listen, to what's inside, to God, to nature, and if we do not practice this, it will be more difficult to center ourselves into the present moment". Of course, my mind was racing from one thing to another and I had a LOT of trouble just trying to quiet my head, but just the intentional action of pausing that morning was so different from my typically frazzled and gogogogogo tendencies. After our foray into meditation, we each took some crayons and colored pencils and were told to draw our "essence". Uhmmmm what?  Many of us were confused at first, including me, but Carlos encouraged us to just DRAW, anything, an object, a feeling, anything that creatively captures who we are at our core. Granted, people spend their whole lives trying to determine this, but it was the first time I was confronted with this question, so I just sat there for a bit and started doodling with the colors I had chosen. I ended up with a bunch of leaves, red and yellow and brown, a little bit of green, all different shapes, just kind of blowing around. I won't jump into a deep analysis of what that means, because I don't think I truly know yet, but it was AMAZING to spend so much time just thinking about who I am. Who AM I? I am many colors. I am blowing in the fickle direction of the wind, I am changing frequently, I am dancing. The coolest part was hearing the other volunteers share their essences. It was like an enormous giant poem of us, and I loved it (also because we were using crayons... thank goodness I'm teaching at a primary school because there will be a LOT of coloring with Miss B- my potential teaching name, thoughts?). During the whole time we were drawing, though, I could not figure out what the point was. Ok, we're spending the day talking about spirituality, and so far we've just sat quietly and drawn who we are at the core, to the best of our novice abilities?  Carlos quickly answered my internal questions after we had all finished sharing our essences. "That, is spirituality. Your core, your essences, YOU. God lives in your deepest passions". This was followed by an amazing talk by Carlos in which he discussed how various religious beliefs may differ, but people sharing their core with one another is at the heart of spirituality. It's a connection to people, to ideas, to God. At one point of the talk, he became very emotional and mentioned how disgusted was at the negative ways gay and lesbian people are treated in many cultures, sometimes arrested or put to death, and almost always possessing unequal rights. He felt betrayed because often, religion is incorrectly used as an excuse or scapegoat for this persecution, when the whole basis of faith should be love and acceptance above all. He had tears in his eyes, and I cried. I didn't hoot and howl in the middle of the session, but I was overcome with emotion. LGBT rights are so important to me, and it sometimes made me feel as if being spiritual or religious or Catholic put me at odds with my passions. I felt a physical and emotional reconnection at that moment, as if he used that example exclusively for me. It was warm and amazing and felt like I was being hugged by everyone in the room, being welcomed back, being truly accepted for who I am. I really felt LOVE, the love of God and the love of everyone around me. It was overwhelming and I will never forget that feeling. I struggled with the decision to participate in a faith-based program when I was figuring out my next steps, but was attracted to the opportunity to really face tough questions and be forced to examine my own spirituality over the next two years, and be able to find God in the most unlikely places, including within myself when times get tough. This day at orientation solidified my decision. I am exactly where I need to be, doing what I need to do, and living the connection between faith and social justice. I definitely do not know what that means in full yet, but I cannot wait to find out.   



Road Trip- September 8-October 3
Another awesome thing about orientation is that I met my future partner-in-crime and housemate, Caitlin O'Donnell. She will be living in Dar with me, and let me tell you, this girl is AMAZING. We compliment each other very well, and at the end of orientation, we made a semi-joking and completely spontaneous plan: Let's go on a cross-country road trip before our departure date in December. She was done with work at the end of August and I really did not have plans, so our silly afterthought became an actual reality, and for the month of September she and I spent our time driving from Connecticut to California and back, over 8,000 miles of travel. This was incredible for MANY reasons:

Caitlin and I in front of the Rocky Mountain Foothills in Colorado

 1- We got to know each other. When people heard of our plan, the majority did that slight-grimace face and said "Wait... you've known each other for two weeks? And you're spending a month on the road together? Before living together for two years? That could get dangerous". Well, doubters, we proved you wrong. There are just some things that bring people together, and one of them is definitely the open road. We shared awesome conversations, silly interactions, and just had a GREAT time. The coolest part? I'm about to spend two years living with my friend, not just an acquaintance. How AMAZING?!

Cait and I with my High School friend Megan and college friend Lillian in Tuscon, AZ

 2- We were able to say adequate good-byes. Between the two of us, we knew enough people scattered around this great country to only have to check into a hotel about 4 of the 25 nights. That gave us the great opportunity to meet each others' friends and family, and spend time with people separated by distance who we otherwise would not have had a chance to see before we left. This meant a sense of completion and a readiness to move on to the next step. .

 Cait climbing up a STEEP ladder in The Badlands while Colin, our new friend and South Dakota JV, and I follow

3- We met incredible people. A very cool thing about JVC is its pillar of "community". During some of our stops, namely in El Paso and South Dakota, neither Cait nor I knew of anyone with whom we could stay. There are domestic JV (Jesuit Volunteer) communities in many of those places, however, and after a quick email exchange, we were welcomed in as family, because we were part of the JV family. The hospitality that we received at the JV houses in South Dakota, Oakland, El Paso, and Nashville was unbelievable, and I felt so humbled and gracious. It was like we were staying with old friends. I still keep in touch with some of the JVs that we met over the journey, and the ability to share my story with them and hear of their experiences as a JV in the states is such a beautiful thing.

Left: Our drive into Yosemite National Park. Right: Me looking over the Badlands in South Dakota.

4- America is SO DIVERSE! Chicago was the furthest west both Caitlin and I had ever traveled (not counting a few plane rides to California when we were younger), and our jaws dropped COUNTLESS times at the sheer beauty of this land. Indiana has SO MANY CORN FIELDS and we were both in awe of the mass of wind turbines that stood like giants against the horizon. South Dakota is remote and BEAUTIFUL. We pulled onto the side of the road when we realized that apart from the road itself and our car, there was nothing man made. We took turns screaming as loud as we could, and there was no echo. Nothing to for the sound to bounce off of. WHAT? Oh, and we also drove through a blizzard near mount Rushmore in EARLY SEPTEMBER. We saw bison in Wyoming, slowly but surely drove through the Rocky Mountains in my '98 Camry dubbed "The Struggle Bus", stared at the most beautiful rock formations in Utah, endured a doozy of a hike in Yosemite national park, blasted music as we crossed the Bay Bridge in California, hiked by more types of cactus than I could count in Arizona, peeked over the border to Mexico in El Paso, had fried green tomatoes in Memphis (SO GOOD), and were comforted by the familiar color of changing leaves once we reached the Appalachian Mountains and made our way back up to New England. It was very special to have an opportunity to actually SEE the country that I am about to represent, and it gave me a sense of pride that I don't think I ever had before. If anything, I feel more prepared to leave.

All in all, this trip was such an important thing to do before leaving, and I couldn't think of a more perfect send-off!

Life at Home- My Last Nachos
When I returned home to Connecticut after the road trip, I had some pretty lofty plans. I would study Swahili for at least an hour a day, preferably two. I would dedicate another hour or two to reading up on Tanzanian culture. I would meditate daily. I would go through my room and sort out what I was bringing and not bringing so that I did not have to pack at the last minute. I would read avidly so that my shelves of unfinished books would be completed before I left. HAH. Needless to say, very few of those things actually happened. I have been listening to Swahili tapes, but it is closer to an hour every week, and I have not done an extensive amount of reading on the culture that I am about to enter. At first, I regretted this, but then I thought about what I have been dedicating my time to instead: the people I love. I have an incredible group of friends at home-- friends I grew up with, friends from High School, friends from my theater days. I spent almost every day with these friends, and I do not regret one second of it. I cooked meals with my mom, drank beer and sat outside with my dad listening to his stories, and focused almost all of my time and energy on where I was at the moment, rather than where I would soon be. There are of course pros and cons to this, but I do not think I could ever be adequately prepared for what I am about to experience, and I honestly feel I would have regretted not spending as much time as possible with the people who formed me into who I am. I was able to take day or weekend trips to Providence to see my friends from college and my brother who is now a Sophomore there. I spent a week in Nashville with my boyfriend and his community mates and loved every moment. Those were the times that stood out to me during this transition period.

It's pretty weird now, what I'm feeling. It's currently 8:45 on the morning that I depart. My two closest childhood friends, Caitlyn and Amber, are sleeping on my couches after they spent the last two days helping me pack, and took countless days off of work in recent weeks just to spend more time with me before the big day, today. I will soon have to say goodbye to them. I will soon have to say goodbye to my parents, who continue to astound me with their amazing support and love. I grew so close to them when I moved back home after college, and I feel unbelievably grateful and blessed. These relationships are ones that will last so much longer than the two years I will be away.

For the past month, I have been eating ANYTHING I want, with the mindset of "Well, I probably won't have this for two years, so why not?". The other day, I was feeling a little nervous about leaving, and hungry, which combined into a disgustingly delicious, giant plate of nachos upon which I piled leftover macaroni, three different types of cheese, salsa, hot sauce, and onions. As I was eating, I thought "HOW am I ever going to give up cheese? This is probably my LAST plate of nachos for the next two years!". After an initial and dramatic feeling of sadness, within moments, I found myself chuckling. One of the most important reasons for me choosing this program is that I want to understand what it means to live simply. I want to focus my attention on people rather than things, on relationships rather than commerce, on sharing a community meal of rice and beans that took hours to cook rather than sitting alone in my house with a giant plate of cheesy nachos that took seconds to make with a microwave. I honestly do not know what to expect in these upcoming years, but I know it will be very different from the life of comfort that I am used to. I couldn't be more excited.

It's not goodbye forever. It's see you in a bit. And I'm ready to go :)

I will hopefully touch base via this blog after I've arrived in country. Thank you all so much for your constant love and support, and for your interest in this big step for me. Off to Boston in a few hours, where I'll fly to Germany, then meet up with my fellow Tanzania volunteers in Switzerland, and finally soar over The Sahara to my new home.

SO much love,
Beth

"Jambo" and other useful Swahili phrases

Hello everyone, and welcome to (dun dunun DUN!) my blog! Disclaimer... remember that kid who kept a journal, was SUPER excited to write in it for the first week, and then left it in a pile to be forgotten for years, only to get another journal for Christmas and think "Wow, this'll be great, I LOVE writing!", scribble in it like a miniature JK Rowling for a week or two (no, I am not comparing my writing skills to those of the great Hogwarts inventor herself), and then POOF, completely forget about it for another five years? Yeah... I have quite a few of those 2-page deep diary gems collecting dust under my bed.  I guess you could call me a recently cured commitment-phobe when it comes to this method of story telling. My first blog attempt has one REALLY great post about my semester spent in South Africa... seriously it was an awesome post. It was so awesome that it was the only thing I wrote in five whole months, which left my family pretty bummed. But, FEAR NOT, for I can honestly say that this blog is something that will become a consistent part of my upcoming two and a half years, and any lull in updates will directly correlate to the amount of internet access at my disposal. Additional disclaimer... this post will not focus on useful Swahili phrases, I was just trying to be clever.

So, for a quick introduction, no, I am not JK Rowling, as we already cleared up. I am not here to paint beautiful pictures of fictional lands and adventurous characters with glasses and wands, although that would be pretty cool. Rather, I am here to invite you to share with me in a journey that will undoubtedly challenge my current beliefs, open my eyes wider than anatomically comfortable, and tear a realistic hole in my heart. Sorry for being so graphic.

In early December of this year (yes, four more months, it seems like forever), I will be departing to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, for two years to serve as a teacher at Gonzaga Primary School. I will be working through the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, an AWESOME organization that works to offer young men and women (like me! woo!) the opportunity to work full-time for peace and justice across the nation and globe (taken from the JVC mission statement). I will be working directly with the community of Mabibo, an area just outside of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Located right on the coast of East Africa, Dar es Salaam is Tanzania's largest city, and I am eagerly awaiting the opportunity to become immersed in the culture of this amazing place. This means learning as MUCH Swahili as possible before I go (Jambo! Habari gani? Nzuri Sana!- Hello! How are you doing? Very well!), and slowly preparing myself for the departure by reducing the amount of technology I use, starting to say my "good-byes" early, and visiting old friends and family.

I cannot express how unbelievably excited I am for this opportunity. As a recent graduate of Providence College with a degree in Public and Community Service Studies (what the heck is that, you ask? I'll explain more later), I knew that I eventually would wind up in this field of work, but I never imagined finding an organization so committed to values that I find so important when considering service and social justice. I just got back from a two week summer orientation that brought the values of community, spirituality, simplicity, and social justice to life, and really helped me feel prepared (or, at least, as prepared as possible), for this experience. In my next post I'll explain more about the orientation experience, and a bit of a closer look at how on earth I got to this stage.

But, before I sign off for now, I'd like to explain why I chose the little quote on the top of this page (it doesn't look too fancy, I'm miserable at web design). I read it in a book entitled "This Our Exile" by James Martin, a Jesuit priest who did work in Kenyan refugee camps for two years (just north of Tanzania). This book was extremely beneficial to read in order to understand not only some of the challenges that go into adjusting to a new culture without aiming to change it, but also the Jesuit values of accompaniment for the poor, where relationship building is stressed above all else. I am a firm believer, as you will again and again learn, that all life is connected in some way. What we do impacts others, whether we know about it or not, and the gift of being conscious of our actions and aware of our relationships is how we can greater understand how precious all life is, through their connections to us. When elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers. When nations are crippled with war, those with no say or stake in that war feel its worst effects. When two friends argue, the third friend is damaged. When I make a decision, I do not want to forget about what that decision means for the grass. Hopefully, I can learn to tread lightly and confidently, acknowledging and respecting the life that I will encounter. I know it's a bit idealistic, I know I will fail often, but I am ready to try. I am ready to grow, and I am ready to realize the beauty and worth of the grass that is often forgotten.

Thanks for joining me for this!

Amani (Peace)

(see, I was able to throw some Swahili phrases in there after all!)

**To help sponsor me on this experience, you can help by donating to JVC! My fundraising page can be viewed at https://jesuitvolunteers.myetap.org/fundraiser/smts/individual.do?participationRef=3926.0.318180891