Thursday, January 19, 2006
For the very beginning…
About two months ago my mother asked me if I wanted to go to Africa with her. She has lived in Africa before, spending about a year in Senegal before I was born, and she recently returned to Tanzania. When in Tanzania she paired up with an agency called Cross Cultural Solutions and worked at an orphanage for three weeks. She fell in love with the town she was in, Moshi, and decided that that was the place where she would finally relocate and retire. She wants to create a free bookstore in Moshi, a place where people can come in and read books for as long as they want. Books are rare and expensive in the area, therefore people who want to read cannot affordably do so. We believe that education is the key to revolution, and that a project of this nature has the potential to be life-changing for many poor Tanzanians. I suppose that’s the long and short of it. I’ll go into much more detail later as it comes together.
I have been always been curious about my mother’s fascination with the African continent, as my own fascination rests mainly within South America. I’ve wanted to explore South America since I was a teenager but it hasn’t been feasible for me to do so yet, at least not in the rugged way I’d like to experience it. So when my mom finally decided to relocate from Canada and try to build such a fantastic project in Moshi, I thought I should find out where she was going, what kind of life she would be living, and who she would be living with. I also want to help her set up a US nonprofit, because I believe in her project and know a lot of people in this country who do as well. I wanted to see it all for myself though, to better understand where we were going. I let her know about my concerns, and a month later we were set to take off together.
Keep in mind, I’ve been married only a little over two years. I’ve just been hired to write for a magazine that I love. The decision to leave the country for a month and possibly change my future in ways I can’t imagine was not one that came without lifestyle considerations, but given the opportunity that was put before me, I could not say no.
I’ve been working my butt off to get work done in time, to get all the shots and pills that I need, and to get my husband into the swing of taking care of our two dogs and new house. I’m nervous about stepping foot onto the African continent seeing as I’m heavily tattooed and don’t know how that might affect peoples’ reactions to me. I am too pale-skinned and tattooed to cover everything up, so there will be some adjusting, but so far in all my travels I’ve presented myself as who I am, and most have respected me for it, so hopefully that trend will maintain itself in Africa.
I’ve been corresponding with one of my mother’s friends, Anthony, who runs a small tour company. Because of his presence I’m reassured by the fact that we will be guided by locals wherever we go. It seems that he has found a house for us to rent, a mzungu (Western style) house, with a few separate bedrooms and a guard dog. I feel a bit guilty about living in a home with more facilities than most Tanzanian homes, but this is my first trip, and since I’m leaving for a month, I don’t want it to be filled with homesickness (which I’ve felt even here in Los Angeles). For now I feel okay with being white in Africa, and living as a white person in Africa. At least I can rest assured that I won’t be going on any air-balloon safaris, something that rich Americans who don’t care about freaking out the wildlife tend to enjoy. I’ll keep it as original as I can, for me, and tell you all about it.
This is just the beginning, and there is so much more to tell already. ¶ 1/19/2006 01:59:00 AM
I have been always been curious about my mother’s fascination with the African continent, as my own fascination rests mainly within South America. I’ve wanted to explore South America since I was a teenager but it hasn’t been feasible for me to do so yet, at least not in the rugged way I’d like to experience it. So when my mom finally decided to relocate from Canada and try to build such a fantastic project in Moshi, I thought I should find out where she was going, what kind of life she would be living, and who she would be living with. I also want to help her set up a US nonprofit, because I believe in her project and know a lot of people in this country who do as well. I wanted to see it all for myself though, to better understand where we were going. I let her know about my concerns, and a month later we were set to take off together.
Keep in mind, I’ve been married only a little over two years. I’ve just been hired to write for a magazine that I love. The decision to leave the country for a month and possibly change my future in ways I can’t imagine was not one that came without lifestyle considerations, but given the opportunity that was put before me, I could not say no.
I’ve been working my butt off to get work done in time, to get all the shots and pills that I need, and to get my husband into the swing of taking care of our two dogs and new house. I’m nervous about stepping foot onto the African continent seeing as I’m heavily tattooed and don’t know how that might affect peoples’ reactions to me. I am too pale-skinned and tattooed to cover everything up, so there will be some adjusting, but so far in all my travels I’ve presented myself as who I am, and most have respected me for it, so hopefully that trend will maintain itself in Africa.
I’ve been corresponding with one of my mother’s friends, Anthony, who runs a small tour company. Because of his presence I’m reassured by the fact that we will be guided by locals wherever we go. It seems that he has found a house for us to rent, a mzungu (Western style) house, with a few separate bedrooms and a guard dog. I feel a bit guilty about living in a home with more facilities than most Tanzanian homes, but this is my first trip, and since I’m leaving for a month, I don’t want it to be filled with homesickness (which I’ve felt even here in Los Angeles). For now I feel okay with being white in Africa, and living as a white person in Africa. At least I can rest assured that I won’t be going on any air-balloon safaris, something that rich Americans who don’t care about freaking out the wildlife tend to enjoy. I’ll keep it as original as I can, for me, and tell you all about it.
This is just the beginning, and there is so much more to tell already. ¶ 1/19/2006 01:59:00 AM
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Looking forward to the rest of your adventure. I've always wanted to travel to Africa...maybe that'll be next on our list of places to live (six months ago we left Canada to live in New Zealand)
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