Appreciation Birthed Abroad

It is hard to judge just exactly how I have grown from my time in Tanzania, though I can feel something different inside me. Perhaps when I return to the States, the ways in which I have changed will become evident. I know my perspectives have been altered, my mind widened, and my tolerance for stuffy uncomfortable bus rides has grown more than I ever would have hoped. I know that I have learned more in Tanzania about life, the world, and the environment than any traditional classroom could have taught me. This experience both led me to have a greater understanding of Tanzanian life and culture, and yet also humble me in realizing how very little I really know in the world. I have witnessed beauty and suffering. I have experienced joy as well as pain.

I don’t really know what could prepare a person for cultural immersion coming from the States to the heart of a developing country. I’m actually quite good at adapting and acclimating to new cultures and situations, so that aspect wasn’t too hard for me. What was hard though, was comprehending how differently people on this side of the world lived. It was easy for me to deal with living in a mud and stick hut with the Maasai for a week because I knew it wasn’t permanent. It wasn’t an overly big hassle for me to cook over a fire or wash my laundry by hand for three months, because I knew soon enough I would have access to a gas stove and a washing machine. But what of them? Tanzanians live what many Americans would consider to be “rough lives.” Very few people have homes that include appliances (or even electricity for that matter), a large majority of people cook over fires in outdoor kitchens, and showers are done with buckets of cold water. Yet, most Tanzanians live these lives humbly and with grace. Our program director for study abroad said something that really struck me: “There is a difference between simply being involved, and being committed.” During my time in Tanzania, I only had a chance to be involved. Even though I didn’t have the time to commit to any one issue, that did not detract from my incredible learning experience about both the people and the environment of Tanzania.

What these people have taught me by allowing me to enter their lives and experience their culture not as a tourist, but as a student eager to learn, is that the United States really is just one small part of the world. Despite our tremendous influence, it is important to remember that not everyone has the privilege of living the way we do. I learned the importance of getting out of our western bubble and seeing the rawness of life in a developing country and I am so thankful for this opportunity. Looking beyond the fancy tourist safari lodges, Tanzania is made up of a lot of good people just trying to live their lives and provide for their families. It can be hard, but it is
also beautiful. I have been filled with a greater appreciation for my home in America and the endless opportunities I have the ability to access as a student. These are things I will never take for granted again.

I hope to return to Tanzania, or anywhere in Africa one day in the hopes of spending more time experiencing and understanding culture, providing outreach in the realm of education and conservation, and most importantly, moving away from simply being “involved” to instead becoming “committed”.

Pop-Tarts and Traffic Laws

The water pressure in my shower is glorious.  The hot water is, indeed, hot.  And the internet– it’s so fast!  It’s everywhere!

Why did I ever leave?  The United States are great.  There are traffic laws.  And pop-tarts.  And American coffee.

Being able to go barefoot around the house?  For the first time in four months?  Because I’m no longer living in the Middle East?  Awesome.

Telling people I’m vegetarian?  And having them know what that means?  And not debate me about it?  Awesome.

Public transportation being regular and timely?  And having set routes?  That I can actually look up online?  Awesome.

We might as well be the United States of Awesome.  So I’d like to take this opportunity to express my great appreciation for the US.  In the less serious ways, and the more serious ones– personal liberties, freedom of press, etc.  I’m grateful to the four months away from it to remind me of the big things and make me, for the first time ever, really think about the little ones.

But.

(You knew that conjunction was coming, didn’t you?)

But there’s a lot to be said for Jordan as well.  For the call to prayer, a beautiful, ethereal sound to punctuate the day with moments of reflection.  For the ability to find a taxi anywhere, any time, and make it all the way across town for less than $7.  For the fact that there’s no such thing as nosy, so you and a complete stranger will go from “Hello!” to “So why don’t you have children?” in five seconds flat.  For the family-oriented culture that reminded me to appreciate my own.  Even for the strict social rules, since they helped me to become more conscientious, polite, and professional.  Jordan was beautiful, in so many ways, and I am honored to have experienced its culture.

I love the US– more than when I left, even– but the magic thing about love is that it’s not a finite resource.  Coming home and realizing the amazing things I’ve taken for granted in no way diminishes my love of Jordan.

And, really, that’s why I left in the first place: to find someplace I love, be it a new place or new appreciation for an old one.  Next year is senior year, so I’ve got some downright terrifying decisions coming up, and a big one for me is– do I want to live in the Middle East after graduation?  Stay to work in the US?  Return to North Africa, where I first discovered my love of Arabic?  And now, I think I know– but that’s for me to occasionally agonize over in sleepless nights, and you to find out.

Suffice it to say, being in Jordan has taught me about Arab culture, American culture, and myself.  And trading four months of really, really amazing showers and speedy internet for that understanding was totally worth it.

Warning: Cliché Up Ahead

This look out point is a fantastic five-minute walk from my apartment. The bridge in this picture is one of two bridges in Istanbul that connects Europe and Asia. When I took this picture I was standing on the European side looking toward the Asian side of Istanbul. This is also the spot where I first really talked to someone in Turkey.

Living abroad is an amazing thing. So amazing, that you start to realize all of your firsts when you look back… The first time you correctly use the host language, the first time you successfully use the subway system, and even the first time you are going down the slippery steps of said subway system and you fall and nearly break your wrist. Every time you do something even close to noteworthy you feel as if you should write a novel about it: “The time I was being chased by a dragon in Istanbul and I slipped down the stairs to the subway…”

Seriously though, I had been in Istanbul for about a week and I had yet to really talk to anybody. I already finished all eight Harry Potter movies, so I think I was more than ready to take on the city. It was early September, so the weather was perfect, and I wanted to take full advantage of it. I grabbed my wand and went for a walk. I had absolutely no idea where I was, so when I left my apartment building I took a left and hoped for the best. Fortunately, it turned out great, and I ran into this amazing place that overlooked the Bosphorus.

After taking some pictures I noticed someone had joined me at the lookout. I pretended to not notice the new company, while silently hoping he would come talk to me because I hadn’t had real human interaction since the flight attendant asked if I wanted the normal or vegetarian meal. Finally, I noticed he was approaching me. For about two seconds I was excited until I realized I knew zero Turkish. I was about to turn away until I heard him say “hello.” I vividly remember thinking, “Thank God, English!” (Now, I love the Turkish language, but it is a beautiful thing to understand someone and to be understood fully.)

Anyway, we started talking about who we were and what we did. We even helped an elderly Turkish man take a picture of the view with his non-camera phone… See what I mean by fully understanding someone?

Now, this guy and I never became friends. I talked to him probably five more times after the lookout, and he has since graduated and moved away. However, this is the first conversation I had with someone while abroad, and I walked home that day with a smile on my face. My confidence level grew exponentially and since then I have met more people than I could have ever imagined. The friendships I have made with people here are some of the best friendships I have ever made. There is something about knowing you both have this new, foreign land in common that makes you skip the boring acquaintance step and move to close friends right away. I’m glad this is how my friendships here have played out because we don’t have the same homeland in common, and my time here will unfortunately come to an end.

With that being said, I have made friends all over the world and I know these friendships are permanent. I cannot wait to further my travels while visiting my new friends’ host countries and let them visit mine.