Looking Back ...

I was walking home from work the other day, when a passing car left me futilely waving away a cloud of reddish grit and thinking to myself “I can’t believe I’ve been here long enough for it to get dusty again!” It’s more than a little hard for me to believe, but in another week or so I’ll have been here for a year. Looking back, perhaps it shouldn’t be all that surprising – after all, not only have I been here long enough for it to get dusty, rainy (really rainy!), and dusty again, but I’ve also been here long enough to become fluent in NGO-acronym-ese, master the art of cooking pancakes ... outside ... over a charcoal “stove,” and travel around Burundi, Egypt, Kenya, Rwanda, South Africa, Tanzania/Zanzibar, and Uganda.

More than anything, I have been here long enough to be able to begin to appreciate how eye-opening this past year has been for me – how my experiences here have shaped the ways I think about myself, about my future, and about my place in the world. On a very personal level, this year has given me a taste of what it’s like to live with only yourself and a shelf or two of books for company. Adjusting to life without friends, family, or a campus full of students with backgrounds similar to mine turned out to be a significantly harder adjustment to make than transitioning from the 1st world to the 3rd. All in all though, I would say that it was a worthwhile adjustment to go through – not only because I learned how live alone and with relatively few distractions, but also because it has given me a renewed appreciation for good company and conversation. My time here has also sparked what I believe will be a lifelong interest in sustainable development and humanitarian relief efforts, although I suppose only time will tell whether or not that will be the case.

On a more general level, the most jarring element of my year here has been the constant stream of reminders that I have been living in the midst of poverty. For most Americans, growing up in the States usually means growing up believing that with hard work, anything is possible. For all that part of me knew that this wasn’t universally true, it took moving to Tanzania for me to realize just how privileged an attitude it was. Living here, it is impossible to deny or ignore the fact that while the “hard work pays off” mantra might hold true for the majority of the developed world, it is the exception – not the norm – throughout the majority of the developing world. In countries like Tanzania – and especially in underdeveloped areas like Kibondo – crippling poverty (compounded by lack of or limited access to clean water, affordable health care, basic infrastructure, and adequate educational facilities) is the norm. And while the country is slowly strengthening the economy, extending social service infrastructure, and developing a middle class – and while organizations like TCRS are doing what they can wherever they can – it is a slow process ... and in the meantime I walk to and from work everyday shadowed by small children whose kwashiorkor bellies and tattered clothing is all the proof one needs of the vicious cycle of poverty that they and their families are trapped inside of.