Chia-Like, I Shall Grow

Chia-Like, I Shall Grow!

Not only a title to a song by a band called “Say Anything”, but also my new personal mantra for this trip.  . Maybe even a possible tattoo idea when I finish this trip?  Maybe put it somewhere in Swahili?  Although, I doubt there’s any real translation for Chia...just kidding mom and dad!

I had a real experience of personal growth today.  Today I went to a new placement called “Urumwaella” with Sasha and Jodi, two other CCS volunteers. This organization does a lot of different things that involve working with youth.  Teaching, fundraising, taking care of orphans, and making home visits to students who are viewed as being in critical situations to name a few.  Lastly, they rely on volunteers to do seminars on HIV/AIDS.  The three of us had been putting together information about HIV/AIDS for the last few days and today was the presentation.

It was the first day I had been to this placement, so I had no idea what to expect.  A half hour after we arrived we made the 25 minute walk to the school yard.  The school grounds were composed of quite a few separate buildings. I believe it was a primary and secondary school (so for ages 6 to 17 approximately).  As we walked, Sasha explained to me that the presentation was going to be for the students who were in critical situations at home. “So about 22 students or so,” she said. 

The previous day Sasha went to the home of a 14 year old female student.  Her mother was dead and her father disappeared. She was living with a neighbor who couldn’t work because of some disability and neglected the young girl.  She had been raped numerous times by various people.  She was infected with HIV and had recently started prostituting to try to make money.  “Critical situations” on a Tanzanian level are much more critical than we could ever imagine at home.

We arrived at the school and sat on a bench waiting for the students to finish their current classes and get assembled.  After 10 minutes or so we were led behind one of the buildings where well over 100 young Tanzanian students were sitting silently on the dirt.  This is where, in normal life, I would have become intensely nervous, probably even nauseous.  It was so strange though, even as I walked in front of this crowd of curious, wide eyes glued on the “mzungus” in front of them, I didn’t get nervous.  We introduced ourselves, introduced the topic of HIV/AIDS, and discussed causes, symptoms, treatment, and of course PREVENTION, pausing after ever sentence to have it translated by the head master.

The language barrier is still one of the hardest things for me.  I hate not being able to address these students directly.  Throughout the presentation I’m constantly wondering, “Is she getting the message across, is she relying the information correctly, is she understanding what we’re saying in order to translate if for the kids?”  These thoughts are especially strong when it comes to the part about prevention.  The age range is from 9 to 15 and I can tell the head master isn’t completely jazzed about the idea of discussing abstinence and safe sex.   Granted, they are very young, and yes, a wave of giggles pulsates through the crowd when I hear the word condom in the translation; nevertheless, if we negate to educate on prevention then what good is educating them on symptoms, or causes, or treatment? 

At the end of the session we take questions, but there really aren’t many.  I’m almost relieved since I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on the subject by any means.  We tell the head master that if any of the children have questions they don’t feel comfortable asking in front of everyone or if there is anything we don’t have the answers too, the students should write it down and we’ll research the answer and get back to them.  I tried to make it extremely clear that we wanted them to have any and all of the information they desired.

                                               

After the presentation we briefly met with the students from the “critical situations” category.  Sasha told me that a handful of them were infected with HIV already, the 14 year old girl I mentioned earlier being one of them.  This is the first time I really became emotional for a reason other than homesickness and self-pity while being in Africa.  The condition of their lives suddenly became so real when I could look them all right in the face.  It was all I could do to choke back tears.  Optimism is usually a quality I possess, but it was nearly impossible to think of anything positive knowing the rest of their lives would be a downhill battle with an incurable illness in a third world country. 

As overwhelming as this experience was, it reminded me why I want to be a health educator.  It gave me a renewed passion for being here that I was definitely lacking before.  Also, can someone please tell Dr. Tornabene that a used the word passion? (sorry for the health education inside joke other readers).

On the walk back we discussed the seminar with the program mentor.  He told us that the students really quiet down and listen when white people are teaching them.  This seemed really curious to me.  Why would they trust this Westerner, this complete stranger to their culture, more than their own people?  He said that they associated white people with having a lot of education.  There is definitely this trend of thinking in Tanzania that if white people are working for an organization, or volunteering somewhere that good things will happen.  I think this generally comes from the fact that many Westerners act as donors to non-governmental organizations.

Since I’ve been here I’ve struggled quite a lot with living in the moment.  I just can’t seem to keep myself in Africa mentally.  My thoughts are constantly swinging back and forth between the past and the future.  Distracting myself by drifting into daydreams of what I’m going to do when I get home, and what I miss the most becomes another pass-time.  I’m almost embarrassed.  How weak is my mind that I can’t go a few months with out ice in my drinks?  I chose to be here so why can’t I just BE here.  Today made me realize that the only way I’m going to make a change in this place and in myself is if it’s conscious.  This is why I’ve made a conscious decision to live in the present. 

So this is how I’ve arrived upon my mantra: Chia-Like I shall Grow

It’s a metaphor for my personal, internal growth as I progress through these weeks in Tanzania. I feel like the impact I make here is in my hands, the extent of my growth is in my hands. I need to cultivate it, nourish it.  I hope to progress as a student, a health educator, and simply as a person.   

I hope I can keep riding these positive feelings! Keep sending me your good vibes friends and family!