Talk about throwing a monkey wrench into the equation that is my life. Guess who was pretty much offered a job with GAA (my internship since January) to help set up a community library in a rural village outside Moshi in Tanzania. That’s right, this kid. And if I hadn’t already accepted Peace Corps, I completely would’ve jumped at the chance to do it. Is life/fate trying to tell me something by my boss asking me when he did? Or is it just really shite timing? After I was finally coming to terms with my decision and getting completely comfortable with the idea of picking up life and resettling it in Kafrakifrangipanistan for two years, this big ‘un hits me upside the head. In the end, I’m still going with the PC, since I already told them yes – although, to be fair, I haven’t actually started filling out any of the paperwork – but it doesn’t help that my brain goes into overdrive and starts overanalyzing whether or not I made the right decision.
And something else has been weighing heavily on my mind recently – the fact that I get too attached to people too quickly. I’m not sure that I 100% thought about the implications of doing a ‘job’ like this one (in Zanzi): I meet, interact, and live with pretty much a different group of people every few weeks. Me being the type of person that I am, I definitely latch on to people with whom I get along for the need of some semblance of distraction from missing home and/or friends. For example, I was with this awesome Kiwi for three weeks and we just got on incredibly well, adding a swanky Brit into the mix for two of those weeks. When both of those girls left, I felt as if little bits of me were leaving with them. Good Christ, that sounds so cheesy. But when you’re me, it’s just inevitable – I haven’t gotten to the place in my life where I can detach myself so easily from everyone and just side with those that’re going to be constant for me – in this case: Toni, Dulla, and the random kids/students. I’m finding it really difficult.
The other day while sitting in nursery school with the kids, I realized how utterly absurd primary/nursery school is in the States. Is it really that necessary for every single student to bring their own box of 24 crayons to put in their own Hannah Montana/Transformers (if that’s what the cool kids are even bringing to school nowadays) school box?! I’m currently teaching a class of over 30 students and they ALL share a tub of broken crayons and they do just fine. And they each only have one pencil and writing book as well. It baffles me how materialistic and individualistic the US is/has become. It’s no longer about the act of learning and community and being together, but who has the most pimped-out pencil or desk accessories. As underprivileged as schools like the ones where I’m teaching are, the students are still learning. And they’re learning a foreign language from a bunch of crazy mzungus at the ages of 6 and 7 (which is definitely not an easy task, that’s for damn sure)!
The past couple of days have definitely been hard for me. Just haven’t been in the right headspace for much, lately. Don’t know if it’s the issue of not having a constant group of friends that changes or if I’m going through massive America-withdrawal or scared about the future. Who knows? I sure don’t.
Miss and love you all.