Staffer Reflects on Visit to Tanzania

If this were last year, I would have insisted my parents buy me the new iPod. Sure, the one I already have is only one year old, but the new one has a camera. I need that. I would have used every trick I had to convince them to buy it. And they would have said no, just like every other time I begged them to drop hundreds of dollars on an unnecessary item.

Thinking back on the last few years of my life recently, I realized how much time and energy I wasted on trying to convince my parents that what I had just wasn’t enough.

The realization came when I was looking back on all 1,600 pictures from my trip to Africa over the summer with my dad. In 2008, we sent him to Tanzania for his 50th birthday, a trip he had always wanted to make. When he returned, he told me he wanted to “show me the real world” before I left for college. On  May 31, we left for Arusha, Tanzania.  We spent six days visiting schools and 10 days on a safari. I didn’t fully appreciate my experience for what it was while I was there, but four pictures really got me thinking.

The first  was of my dad and I opening the classroom we funded at the Mikuuni Primary School in the village of King’Ori. When we arrived at the tiny, run-down, four-room school, we were greeted by a welcome ceremony. The students sang, danced and chanted ‘karibu Mikuuni!’ (welcome to Mikuuni).

After being given a tour of the school, we were taken to the school’s new classroom. We had funded 25 new desks for the room, Mikuuni’s greatest need. When we got to the door, we noticed a small piece of cardboard held between the metal frame by a thin piece of masking tape. It read: “A new class open today. May 2010.” We were handed a pair of scissors and told to cut the tape. The parents from the community had gathered around the building and the students and teachers were anxiously waiting to see their new classroom. As we cut the tape, the mothers from the community began to cheer. Before, with only about 15 desks per room, three or four students had to share one desk. The cramming made it hard for them to focus. Seeing the happiness that came from a simple set of desks reduced me to tears.

Looking at the picture from this moment reminded me why: When I go to school, I have always had my own desk. I have the proper learning environment needed to make it to college and eventually have a successful career. However, the kids we met may not even make it to secondary school, let alone college.

Then I thought to myself, “Wow. What in the world do I have to complain about?” My future is solid, I have a nice house with a room to myself, and I never have to worry about whether or not I will have food to eat. So my iPod is “old”, but that’s not what’s important.

Next, my favorite picture from the trip popped up: me, surrounded by 20 of the most charming children I have ever met. The children at all of the schools were fascinated to see us in their communities and wanted to have their pictures taken with us. Seeing this picture reminded me how fortunate we are to live a part of the world where we are taught about other people and cultures. The kids we met can’t turn on CNN and learn about current events or other cultures. The lack of media prevents them from understanding other cultures and ways of life. It is no surprise for us to see people from other countries or races in our communities. They don’t understand the power of diversity, simply because they had never been exposed to it. Knowing about and interacting with other cultures is a gift that many Americans take for granted.

Third was the picture of Dad, Happy, and I. Happy is a young volunteer school teacher at the Kirenga Primary School. She had more passion for teaching than any teacher I have ever had. When she walked into a classroom, the students lit up. Despite the fact that she was speaking Swahili, I could still understand how her energy captivated and inspired them. The students were more focused and interested when Happy was speaking, than when any other teacher was. She wasn’t  getting paid for her work with the school, as she had not been through Teacher’s College. She told us that her biggest dream was to get her teaching certificate so she could give her students the opportunity to make it to secondary school, but financially, college was out of reach for her.

“How unfair,” I thought to myself. “She wants this so much, and deserves it more than anyone, yet it is unattainable for her.”

“We need to get her into college,” Dad said to me on the plane ride home. “That is one extraordinary girl.”

When we got home and settled in again, we began working to send Happy to school. After $3,330 and several donations from family friends, Happy left for college in late September.

Finally, I came across the picture of Happy, Rebecca (another teacher from Kirenga), and three students from the Kirenga Primary School. It was the first day of our safari and we were visiting Arusha National Park. We invited the top three students from Happy’s school to join us. Even though they live 10 minutes from the park, they had never been because it was too expensive. I was shocked to hear this, because I had assumed that they had visited the parks and seen the animals many times. Learning this, I realized yet again that my view of the world was skewed. When my friends and I have nothing to do, we spend money to go out to eat or to a movie. People in small African villages make fun for themselves with what they have. They don’t need to spend money to have a good time. Now, whenever I spend $6 on a Chipotle burrito because there’s “nothing” to eat in my fridge, I feel a little pang of guilt, because with that $6, I could have bought an African family food for a week.

While the pictures a souvenirs I brought home are amazing, the most amazing thing I brought back was the realization of the fortune I have in my life. When I hear people whine about how they don’t have the newest phone or most expensive clothes, I shudder. They don’t realize how lucky they are to have what they do. I wish that everyone could experience what I did this summer, and finally the understand how lucky we truly are.