Thoughts at Week Seven

I am coming to the last stage of my trip. I cannot yet count the remaining days on the fingers of my hands, but that day is rapidly approaching. I have been reflecting on my seven weeks in Tanzania, taking stock of what I have seen and thought and felt. I have thought about the people I have met whom I really enjoyed getting to know. People like Sukh, Hannah, and Amanda. People like Antonio, Liz, and the twins. People like Maristela, Christina, and Josephena at the orphanage. People like Mr. Machary, his son Prospect, and my friend Sangu, the science teacher who works so hard with so few resources. And of course, people like the girls for whom the orphanage is a safe haven, a family, and a home.

The orphanage is noisy these days. Including myself there are 14 volunteers on site, 12 of whom arrived yesterday. Most of them have been in Tanzania for mere days (or even mere hours). They are still in that wonderful stage where everything is magical and every difference from home is a wonderful discovery. It is a fun stage, and it is fun to watch them react to their new realities.

I have enjoyed watching people's reaction to Tanzania and its people. I think it truly was a "life changing experience" for many of them. They have found something that was missing in their lives. They all talk about how what they have seen has affected them. When I was on safari, my traveling companions spoke about how surreal it was to be in Africa -- the Africa -- seeing real elephants and giraffes and zebras mere metres away. When I was on Zanzibar, my fellow tourists continually spoke about how surreal the beauty of the beach was. When I have talked with other volunteers about the bus ride to Arusha or Kilimanjaro or walking down a dusty, bumpy country road, they talk about how surreal the experience was.

I agree that this is all special, but I think they mean "sublime" and not "surreal". I can understand the mix-up -- people don't speak much about the sublime any more. I have been lucky in the woman I married: she and I exist in a shadow world of of the concrete and the sublime. Our world is one where the near transparent skin of a baby gecko can leave a person breathless. Our world is one where the symmetry between the folds of an old lady's skin and the folds of the cloth on her head can make you want to cry because of its sheer beauty. Our world is one where music is heard with ears and fingertips and soul. Our world is one where beauty is reality and reality is beauty.

Africa is beautiful, but it is no more beautiful than the other places I have been. I have enjoyed Tanzania, but this trip has not been a major life-changing experience because I already see a world of sublime beauty. I am happy for my friends whose lives have been changed, for there is something sad about being limited to a world of three dimensions and five senses. I am happy for them, but Africa holds no magic for me because I have lived in a magical world for my entire life.

And now I just want to get home.