Where to begin...!
First off, I’d like to note that everything I express in these
first weeks of my time in Africa is highly coloured by the various transitions
I am experiencing. I endeavour to be sincere about the things I talk about, but
acknowledge that these same things impact the ways in which my
mind operates. Often, especially when I make these crazy moves, I wonder about
how realistic it even is for me to think that I have something like a single,
real identity which permeates everything I do - a soul. Every experience I have
ever had has shaped me, and I am not the person I was 2, let alone, 10 years
ago. As always, my existential musings and crises inform my experiences abroad
as they do my life at home. And so do note, as you read this or other, personal
messages and updates from me, that although I try to keep up with the
processing constantly occurring in my brain in order to produce honest and
clear accounts of my life, many things are influencing me and it may not be
until weeks after I am back in Vancouver that I am able to get back to some,
more cohesive version of myself.
Also, I’d like to thank my best friend Jacqueline, because
having just sent her about 10 pages worth of updates, I feel much more calm and
better able to draw my thoughts together.
Here we go.
Hello kombis, scorpions, and 35 degrees!
Kombis are essentially white vans which happen to serve as
the chief mode of transportation in many African nations. Semi-comfortably, the
vehicle can accommodate 10 people, perhaps 11. On average, 15-20 individuals are
squeezed inside them. This means sweat diffusion, cramped limbs, and at least
mild claustrophobia – every single day, twice a day. Buuut, they’re actually
kind of fun once you get used to it after the first few, slightly traumatizing
occurrences. For instance, sometimes they play catchy pop music and everybody
in the van rocks out to it. And people just smile and laugh with and at you. You're all feeling the same discomfort, and sharing in the humour of the situation.
Let’s talk about colour, I'd rather not avoid it. I knew it would be something I would have to deal with coming here, quite
obviously. I suppose that, as with all things in reality as opposed to
expectation, I couldn't have imagined what it would feel like. I get called Lekgoa
quite often, which literally translated means: spit from the sea (white person).
I remember when I was 10 years old, when my family first moved to Canada, and I
saw a black person for the first time. My eyes could've popped out of my head,
it was so different. I thought it was the coolest thing ever and I just wanted
to follow them around and observe their magical skin. Here, there are some
people who seem to have a friendly fascination with me. Many however,
especially the men – aren't quite as innocuous. Every person holds my gaze
unblinkingly. I'm in a small village, and many people have never seen a white
person before, and if so, quite rarely. So I'm certainly something to be stared
that, understandably. Not to mention the obvious egregious developments
whiteness has injected into this continent. All of it precedes and influences
my time here.
Discomfort has become a regular part of life. Whether because
of the immense heat (roughly 35 degrees – the very beginning of summer, they
tell me), or the looks and comments, every day involves adaptation and emotional
steeling. However, the adaptation is generally quick. Whatever potentially negative thing
I observe diminishes in effect with each day. I can’t say that adjusting to
work in the heat is going to come easily, my whole system is wired to operate
in the cold, rainy climate of Vancouver. As much as I lament that type of
weather, right now it would be incredibly refreshing to be soaked from head to
toe. So, so far below the Equator. Cold showers to the rescue! (usually
accompanied by some nice insect I'm trying not to kill with the spray.. they’re
living creatures too, it’s not always a pleasure to kill them).
But like I said, I strive to maintain the attitude that every
single challenge is surmountable and an opportunity for growth. I go through
many states of being every single day, so much goes on in 24 hours! There are
moments when I feel inert, barely functioning, and others where I feel so alive
and invigorated. At all times I am learning, which I cherish. I know that my
mind is working things out that I couldn't possibly understand or keep up with,
not yet at least. This is why I do these things. Every time I throw myself
outside of my comfort zone, it does incredible things for my growth as a human
being and for expanding my experience of the world. One uncomfortable thing that has become a luxury is not caring about what I look like or how dirty I am. The state of my feet is...mildly abhorrent. And it feels fucking liberating.
As for the work itself... I have now had 4 days of work,
after my one week orientation last week. Like I said before, every day is so
incredibly full and there are so many adjustments that it really feels like I
have been here for a month or so. My work plan is still ambiguous, in its fetal
stages as we figure out in what ways I can be of use, and how my time can be of
most mutual benefit. So this means a lot of sitting around, trying to make
sense of my time here, trying not to let the heat, sweat, and inertia of early development
get to me. Stepping Stones International, my NGO, is very much about
self-initiative. Nobody is going to boss me around and have a set work plan
outlined for me. I must admit, it’d be easier if they did. But this is
interesting because they’re going to let me gradually figure out the tapestry
of operations they’re constantly in the process of developing, and with
training and my own initiative, we can see where I fit in.
It’s an after school program, so the kids come around 2:30.
They are a story unto themselves. I don’t think I can talk about them in great
detail here, primarily because they are too special. The work they are doing in
their own lives, and the impetus they have to stay positive and work hard – I
can’t convey what that means to me. Words are cheap.
At times it's a struggle to maintain perspective, and to
readily observe the extraordinary things happening here. But if you bother to see, it’s all there. The kids whose home lives,
if existing, are nothing short of horrifying. Their exuberance and tireless
energy. The older adolescents who graduated from the program and now spend
their days mentoring the younger children. Their progress and
well-adjustedness, their kindness, sincerity, and dedication to passing on
positive ideas and leadership. The staff. This is an adopted family of
individuals who have invested literally everything they have into the hope that
something will come of this program. And it’s paid off, big time. It all
started off with a few donors several years ago, but it is the individual
skills, compassion, and immense effort of all the staff that has sustained this
organization, developing it into one of the foremost groups of its kind in the
country, and quite possibly on the continent. It isn’t seamless, but it’s
unreal what they have been able to accomplish in just a few years.
Although I've said a lot, I haven't covered all that much in this long post, but I have touched
on some of the main things. The primary thing I want to get across this time,
is that I am inspired by the human capacity to exist in and adapt to
challenges. Nothing stays the same, every day is different and there are
continually myriad lessons waiting to be explored. If you are observant.
Even as I sit now in my room, at 10pm, I can hardly tune
into my thoughts from the overwhelming heat messing with my senses. Plus, I
don’t know if you remember, but I have about 3 pounds worth of hair on my head. I hope I will get used to it all, I
suppose I don’t have a choice. That’s a thing for me, choice. I always struggle
with long-term commitments, invariably feeling the urge to pull back, reverse
events and actions taken in my life, to go back to some time which I perceived
as easier or more comfortable. Of course, it’s only an illusion of my mind.
Every moment carries its own challenges. Some are just more familiar than
others. And as I learn the face of many different difficulties, I am that much
more able and fit to cope with the immense breadth of challenge presented by life in this world.
This week hasn't been easy. The euphoria and energy of the first
week is dissipating and the reality of longevity is starting to settle in. I
trust this state a lot more, and am nevertheless motivated to continue and get
as immersed as I can in it all. Every day I am more in love with this
continent.
A thought struck me very powerfully yesterday. It isn't a
novel one, but certainly something which I continually need to remind myself
of. Hatred is intimately linked with fear. The way forward from racism,
homophobia, sexism, and other cripplingly ignorant mentalities is to
acknowledge the fear present when dealing with difference, and to have
confidence in your own as well as humanity’s ability to grow beyond it.
Fear is
perhaps the most formidable barrier we have in progressing as a global society.
I may not share the fears I listed above, but I certainly have others. One of
the reasons I am here is to deal with certain demons that have haunted me for many
years, some that I'm still carrying around since my life in Montenegro. They are frequently evoked by the many parallels in the life here. Who knows if I’ll
achieve success in diminishing some of their gravity, but I know that I am
enmeshed and wrapped up in them every day. And insanely, I trust it.
I am Lekgoa here. But I am also helped every step of the
way, and showered with genuine, irrespective
of so many differences. Heart filling every day.
Until next time,
Milena
Of all the places in the world I expected to develop my Yoga
practice, Botswana wasn't one of them! But my roommate is a dedicated Yogi, and we have an instructor friend who leads sessions in her resort like home. Bliss.
The view from my bedroom
