A Leaf on a Stream

Writing about the second month of school during the second year here in Tanzania is far less captivating than it was last year. As I have sat here today setting the school’s midterm examinations, I have been mulling over what I could write about. The month did pass quickly, but I think if I was to look back through past entries I would find that I begin more than half of those with a sentence along the same lines. Yes, it is indeed true; time continues to pass ever more quickly and will undoubtedly continue to do so until I leave. This is to be my last reference to the fleeting nature of Time.

As eminent as February’s fugitiveness was its lack of extraordinary events. And so the news of February is perhaps its lack of news and what that implies. Surely if I were to look through the lens with which I viewed last year I could find something to report, but our lens is ever-changing. Fr. Don, our in-country coordinator when we first arrived, always reminded us when we found ourselves frustrated with circumstances or in awe at the differences between home and here that we are leaves on a stream. This was difficult to appreciate at the beginning, but as the year progressed it came to make more sense. What then became difficult was not maintaining a lifestyle of the leaf (it can be easy floating downstream), but rather continually being aware that as a Canadian living in Tanzania I am to be practicing leave-no-trace volunteering while watching what I consider to be injustices sprout around me; that is to say, actively participating in everyday activities while trying to ensure that my presence will not be felt when I depart.

Enter the second year JV. I think that one can grow tired of the constant realization of being a Canadian leaf on a Tanzanian rainbow-tinted stream, especially with the restraints that it can place on one’s actions. And so, to some extent, I feel that as I have commenced this second year at Gonzaga I have grown weary of the realization and have allowed myself to grow too comfortable with the surroundings. I haven’t stopped asking why?; instead I have stopped seeing situations about which to ask why? The rainbow river has tie-dyed my leaf. I have been travelling along here for such a length that new scenes no longer appear strange and I do not feel as out of place. This comes with advantages and disadvantages. I am growing in my enculturation with the people and this country, but at the same time I have stopped noticing the more subtle differences between the two cultures; differences that may stem from injustices here or that may promote equity here where it is absent at home.

Along with being a leaf on the stream, Don also warned that when we grow too comfortable we stop learning. I suppose it is time to slip some peas under the metaphorical mattress to rouse the sleep that is life in a different land.