I have been waiting years to say that.
Like most of my better decisions in life, it was a
spontaneous decision. And like most of my better decisions in life, I chose to
go back to Africa in the middle of the night.
I think we, as humans, are more honest with ourselves at
night. I think we have a clarity at nightthat escapes us during the day as we
busy ourselves with work and errands and meetings and people and so many other
things. But, at night we can choose to pause all those things and spend time
with ourselves. The parts of ourselves that we are sometimes scared to dialogue
with because who knows if one night that part of ourselves will tell us to go
back to Africa or to sell the house or to quit your job or take a risk on love.
When we are left with nothing but our hearts we are able to see the truths our
souls are searching for, but more often than not these truths leave us
vulnerable. Vulnerability is a strange thing. It’s such a powerful and
beautiful thing, but many people today seem to avoid vulnerability because they
are scared of the outcomes. What happens if I get malaria or I won’t have a
place to live or I won’t be able to find a new job or my heart will be
broken?
I know I’m young, but I’ve found that the times in my life
where I allow myself to be the most vulnerable I discover great things about
other people, the world and myself. During those times you are reliant on the
goodness of other people and strength of yourself. You aren’t held back by fears
and doubts, so you allow yourself to walk new roads filled with revelation,
companionship and adventure.
I’ve thought about going back to Africa for years, but I
always found reasons not to go back. Last year I thought about taking my peace
corps money and spending it to go to Africa, but the rational side of my brain,
no matter how small that side is, convinced me it was better to go to Southeast
Asia since I’m already over here and it would be pretty cheap. I convinced
myself to wait for Africa till after grad school.
If you know me you know Africa has significantly impacted my
identity. It has given me passion, shown me grace and offered me wisdom. It has
given me hope and strength and a reason for living. This will sound cliché, but
I have literally dreamt of Africa since I was a little girl. I have always
understood Africa to be God’s gift to keep me going. For many years my dreams
of Africa were the only things I had.
Life used to be a lot for me to handle. On my worst nights though I
would feel a comforting presence as I fell asleep to beautiful smiles and an
overwhelming sense of freedom and peace and hope and the vivid colors of a
marketplace and the powerful sounds of drums. I would wake up and continue on. Africa
understood me. It cradled me and strengthened me. It gave me an identity and a
purpose. I knew I would one day go to
Africa and I knew the embraces from my dreams would again be felt.
I have been blessed with a couple opportunities to spend
time in Sub-Saharan Africa. One of my greatest pet peeves is when people refer
to any one country in Africa as “Africa.” It is such a massive continent filled
with diversity of language, ethnicity, religion, art, music and history. But,
no matter where I have been in Africa, whether West Africa, East Africa,
Central Africa, or South Africa I have been welcomed by the same red soil and
the same sense of belonging. No matter where I have been in Africa it has felt
like home…the place that has given me so much and taught me the value of life.
So, until I find this statement to be untrue, Africa, the whole continent, is a
place of significance for me.
Africa is this continent of majestic power. It is a complex
place filled with mystery and clarity. It is a real place, and the moment you
come in contact with African soil you know you have met all that ever has been
or all that ever will be. When you close your eyes you can see thousands of
years all right where you are standing. You open your eyes and can see the way
all those years have changed you and illuminated the histories that have formed
your being. Ancient truths are realized,
while each step presents a new discovery. Africa teaches that each moment and
each breath is a true gift. It is something that can be taken at any moment, so
you must learn to celebrate each breath and mourn each passing. It is a place
where there is always time for another person. Food is shared as are laughs and
tears. Time is measured in the songs of children, blessings of rain, and the
passing antelope. Time is found in relationships rather than a watch. Africa
teaches that enlightenment and peace can only be attained when we see who we
are through the lives of other people and we see the lives of other people in
ourselves. We are all connected, and that connection is what gives Africa its
power. It is a place where the
supernatural and the ordinary are one.
For a long time I didn’t know if I had an identity other
than Africa. I was that girl who wanted to be a doctor in Africa. That’s all
there really was to me. That’s what people knew about me. I feared I would lose
Africa. I feared I wouldn’t end up living in Africa. I feared that if my path
changed I would be nothing.
In time I learned that Africa wasn’t my identity. It isn’t
who I am. At least not entirely. It is a
part of me as it is a part of any person. It is a place that has encouraged me
and has gotten me to this point in my life. It helped me get through many hard
things and I will forever be connected to the people I have both dreamt of,
have met, and will see in the future. It will continue to inspire me and sing
me to sleep, but I have realized it is not all I am.
I think I was afraid to go back to Africa because I fear I
have romanticized it. What happens if the colors are different than I remember
and the songs are sung to different tunes? What happens if I don’t feel the
connection? What happens if I never leave? What happens if my feelings of
helplessness become too much? What happens if I realize I will never live there
or I realize it is the place I will die or I realize I no longer have
realizations while I’m there? What
happens if God no longer speaks to me in Africa?
I have let go of those fears with the knowledge that whatever
happens will happen, and whatever is felt will be felt. Whatever I see I will
see, and whatever I hear I will hear. Africa and I have an ancient
relationship. One that was formed before I was born, and I trust that that no
matter where life takes me, or how the universe directs me, Africa will always
be with me, and in my times of need it will remind me to stand with faith. I’m
excited to see what she says to me this time.
One of my favorite books is “African Nights” by
KukiGallmann. She is an eloquent writer and her words bring to life my
experiences with Africa. Enjoy:
“Africa is a continent of extremes.
There are droughts and there are floods. There is an Africa
of tragedy and famine, of corruption and war, of blood and hunger and tears, of
incurable disease and tribal clashes and misery and violence and political
unrest. It is the Africa we read about today in every paper, the one we see
daily in biased cable television reports. It is an Africa captive to and
dependent on the blackmail of foreign aid constantly judged, constantly
criticized and never understood. Here the rich West has imprinted its competitive,
frantic image, created alien needs, imposed alien philosophies and financed
impossible schemes, unsuited to the potential and true spirit of this troubled
and fantastic continent, all too ready to take back that help and sit in
judgment of yet another failure.
I do not sing that Africa. There is no need for another
negative reportage, which will leave a bitter taste and serve no purpose.
There is a different side of this ancient land. It is the
Africa that, since the beginning of time, has evoked travelers a deep recognition,
an inexplicable yearning to return. The place that still has what most of the
world has lost.Space.Roots.Traditions.Stunning beauty.True wilderness.Rare
animals.Extraordinary people.the land that will always attract those who can
still dream…
This maternal, primordial Africa taught me acceptance,
endurance and survival. I recognized it as a place to find wisdom. A place to
end this journey and begin a new one.A place of renewal and rebirth. A good
place to die…
Walking alone through the pervading magic of untouched
African landscapes, open to growth as one is when at the bottom of pain, I felt
quintessentially part of the whole. One evening, looking down at the
breathtaking depths of the Mukutan Gorge in the Great Rift Valley, in this
living cathedral of the spirit I discovered my crusade and found peace…I was in
Africa, and this was my cure…
Mine are love stories about Kenya, my Africa. it is the
Africa of sunshine and endless vistas, or roaming herds on the plains of red
dust and galloping giraffe, of forests and snow and prehistoric lakes, of
gentle, handsome, intelligent people who protect the young and respect the old,
care for the sick and feed the hungry, even if it means sharing the little they
have; generous people, ready to smile and to forgive; people with a song in
their heart and a dance in their step; enduring, compassionate and infinitely
patient. The people of Kenya, whose ancient, proven wisdom I respect. I salute
them and thank them for having allowed me to live amongst them, to bury my men
in the soil of my garden as Africans do, and for allowing me the honor and the
choice of becoming a Kenyan like them…
Magic, and the unexplainable, still touch our lives. This is
the lyrical, therapeutic Africa that I describe, the one I live every day of my
life, the one that is my life aim to preserve.”
