Plans change. It's normal. In fact, not being open to change is a sign of naïveté. If nothing changes, nothing happens. In fact, you can fight change all you want, but it's going to happen anyway. "Change is the only constant", as quoted by at least dozens of wise souls.
Here's me being naïve: My biggest life dream was to travel to an African country, fall in love with it, form unfathomably beautiful bonds with it's people, be a teacher surrounded by adorable children in a thatch-roofed hut, and through my teaching and community service, make history book impact. Here's that turning ironic: I wanted to come to Africa and make changes, and now that I'm here, those imminent changes have been revealed as personal. Suddenly, I renounce change.
I left school, but that's okay because this trip--my ultimate, overly fantasized goal--was going to redirect me to my real life's purpose, which obviously was third-world service. Maybe I'll become a skilled grant writer and raise millions of dollars for a supremely altruistic organization. Or maybe I'll end up like famous Katie Davis over in Jinja and start my own NGO while being the best adoptive parent to a dozen African babies. Whatever is revealed for my life path, it's going to be third-world related, it's going to manifest during this trip, and it's going to be phenomenal.
It's very important to be hopeful. Having a positive outlook on the unknown future is healthy. It gets unhealthy when we attach to these outcomes which we've dumped every fiber of hope into. Because this attachment disallows for change. And things change. My extravagant ideals for this trip have crashed hard, and my attachment to those ideals have rendered me hopeless. I'll back up briefly.
After speaking with several Peace Corps volunteers, locals, and other travelers, we've gotten a unanimous response: If Katy and I were to accomplish all that is so desperately needed by Taata Kids for it to attain any of its visions, we really would have to be here for well over one year. Even then, our implemented changes and improvements would be drastically scaled down. We're up against a culture that is very much content with a backward way of living, and without any hurry in allowing any kind of change. Adding to this issue, our setup is two very inexperienced young women working with one very ignorantly distracted director of a barely functioning school. His physical and mental presence is anywhere but at the school, and his somewhat lavish financial decisions and daily secret meetings unrelated to the school make us trust him less and less. Throw into that setup a location that is well known as the dangerous part of a slum town surrounded by garbage and iron gates. In a thirty minute period I saw a very young boy steal a piece of food and get chased down by two massive men who threw things at him to knock him down, and then a dog baring all ribs and innards through his matted fur hobbled on three legs up to me and followed me until he couldn't keep up anymore. Then a guy around age 18 tried grabbing me and cracked up when I squirmed away. I hear children crying constantly and can't intrude into the homes to console them. A few nights ago Katy and I swear we heard a gunshot, and the night before a woman was yelling and crying very close to our house.
I wasn't naïve to the point of thinking living in a third-world country would be all rainbows and clean streets. And I knew my heart was going to repeatedly break as my head spun over the turmoil and poverty. So why don't I just suck it up, work hard, and eventually reap the benefits of the perseverance that I know exists within me in high volume?
I struggled to explain myself in an email sent out to my family about this change of plans. They didn't all ask for it, but I was losing sleep over the lack of communication between them and my brain. I admit to at least partially creating this feeling on my own, but I feel like everyone I know has used me as their fantasizing doll for doing something as storybook "inspirational" as helping poor kids in a third-world country. And now that, at least for August, that isn't the case, everyone who knows this change of plans is surely to be shocked and disappointed. Disappointing anyone has always been my most crippling phobia, so I pleaded my case.
I won't copy and paste the novel that I sent out to parents, siblings, aunts and close friends. To sum it up, I'm choosing to take care of myself. A few years ago I realized the profound impact my surrounding natural setting has on my mood, motivation, balance, and overall wellbeing. One of my favorite quotes says, "The clearest energy comes to you when you find the spot on earth that most enlivens your physical being." I've moved around a lot, and I know my clearest energy, when my vibrations are so high they're jumping off the charts, when I'm immersed in that euphoria of unshakable peace, is when I'm seaside. Part of this global adventure, I secretly pondered, is to find that place on this earth which fills me with such energy. That place that feels like I've finally come home. That place where I just know I belong. Perhaps my heart was planting subtle hints about this adventure's itinerary underneath my obsessive aspirations for NGO life. Thank you, Heart. You now have my attention and submission.
In six days, we leave Taata Kids, Mbale and Uganda. We have implemented some improvements for Taata Kids, in their classrooms and on their websites. We've gained friendships and experiences that are bittersweet to leave, but this next experience, full of new friendships and experiences, beckons our hearts. Moving to the Kenyan coast to volunteer at a Backpackers for a month makes my cells tingle with excitement, while making my ego reprimand me for being so selfish. I want to watch the sun rise while meditating on the beach. I want to practice yoga, matching my breath with the rolling waves. I want to read and study my own interests in my hammock under palm trees. I want to befriend locals, other travelers, and myself again. But still, my head drowns in guilt. I've held internal debates in my journal and out loud to Katy, sought advice from relatives and friends and books, and spent sleepless nights in tears. Again coming to a unanimous consensus, I have the right to, the obligation to do whatever I want. Yes, I still yearn to make people feel loved and important, and I still believe this is my life's purpose to be carried out in some form. But first, I need to make myself feel loved and important. I withdrew from school mostly due to my urgent need to give my brain and spirit some time to heal. Then I worked two jobs and put that "vacation" on hold, waiting for it to happen once I left. Then I left, and it got worse. My memory capabilities and everything else in my frontal cortex that was obviously deteriorating is only worsening. And that is scaring me. But I have the power to tend to this ailment, so I must exercise that power.
I know I can come back here or somewhere similar once I am more healed, prepared, and with an organization for more structure. Who knows, maybe after our Kenya leg we'll hook up with a fantastic NGO that also fits our needs. Until then, im'ma do me. No more outcome attachments, no more objection to change. I am going with the flow, all the way to the Indian Ocean.
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