Date: 9 January 2008
I met the new intern this week. My "replacement".
I've come to the conclusion that meeting and interacting with other Yovos is now a strange experience. Very strange.
First of all, they seem very very white. Like very white. This girl was Finnish and I kept staring at her skin, almost in disbelief. Yes, I do realise how odd I sound right now.
I also talk differently. I guess I got used to speaking to people who weren't fluent in English so I automatically simplify my words, slow down my speech, cut out any slang, and just don't sound like myself at all. It's almost a relief to just talk like myself, without having to worry whether the other person will miss something that I've said.
We talked about things that only Yovos really notice in Africa, also very weird. For example, "So do you ever drink tap water?", "Man how weird is the fish sometimes", "Have you seen that AIDS billboard with the old guy on it?" (I only mentioned that because there are many shocking billboards on the roadsides - ask me about them and I'll tell you. SHOCKING. Shocking enough that I can't bring myself to elaborate right here.)
I suddenly felt like home wasn't that far away. I don't know how to explain this really. Okay, so I'm leaving on Sunday morning. It's weird - going back to ordinary life doesn't seem possible. Like, I guess that being here is so different to my "normal" life that going back to it feels like I'm going to another planet, and that either my life before Togo, or my mini-life in Togo, were just dreams that I had once upon a time. After being here for 7 weeks, I've gotten used to a lot of things, and un-used to a lot of things that were habits before. When I first got here, it felt like I was going to be here for a really long time, and it was difficult to come to grips with it. But then with any change in lifestyle, you eventually get into the swing of things, you find things that make you feel like a place is home, you find your way around, figure out how to get the things you need, the way things are done, understand certain cultural differences a little more, and you make friends and synchronise with your new life.
It's interesting comparing who you were before such an experience with who you are afterwards. There are a lot, and I mean a LOT of things that I'm used to now that I never ever ever thought I could possibly ever be okay with. Even just a lot of personal characteristics that I've had to suppress or overcome, and others that I've had to develop and improve. Sometimes I'll just look around at my surroundings and it hits me just how different this life is to "my life". I'm in Africa. Rasha is in Africa. I thought about this trip a lot before I came here, trying to imagine what it would be like, and whether I'd go through with it or whether I could handle it. In a sense I guess I was setting a challenge for myself, seeing if I could bite the bullet and commit; dive into unknown territory. On some level, it all seemed too different and too far away to ever materialise into reality, but it did, and I'm here. SO WEIRD. And now it's almost over. I feel torn - there's a sadness when I think about the people, places and things that I know I'm going to miss (especially the people), but then when I think about going back to what's familiar, I admit, I feel relieved. With all the incredible things I've experienced here, it hasn't been easy, but I'm grateful for that. I'm glad that I got to see a lot of things with my own eyes, meet remarkable people, and learn priceless lessons, not just about the world, but about
myself and my role, however insignificant, in it.
Last night was tough - normally the kids come only on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, but last Sunday I told them to come every afternoon this week and we'd just play games and sing songs and have fun. Man. I don't know how I'm going to go through with leaving them. It's amazing how despite the language barrier, we've still communicated, and connected, and developed relationships with each other. I've gotten very attached to them - they truly brighten my day. They keep threatening to cry when I leave. One girl yesterday kept ignoring me and didn't want to talk, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said that it was because I was leaving. I can't help but feel like by leaving, I'm letting go of a responsibility. I keep trying to think of ways that I can continue being a part of their lives after I go, and gathering email addresses and phone numbers so that I can keep in touch, but it just doesn't feel like enough. I'm almost jealous of the new intern - while she was greeting them yesterday, I just watched, thinking: no, they're my kids, get off my territory, don't replace me! I don't want them to forget me, because my God, I'm not going to forget them.
Don't EVEN get me started on my feelings about leaving my host family. Every night now, one of them will bring up the fact that our time is running out, and I feel this tightness in my chest because I know it's true. I'm going to miss sitting outside together and laughing, I'm going to miss Clara's INCREDIBLE storytelling (this woman has a gift - she can be telling a story about how she got a certain mosquito bite and it's completely riveting). I'm going to miss having visitors stop over in the evenings, sitting in the cool night air, listening to the sound of the language and the animated expression in their voices while they talk. I'm going to miss lying on the straw mat with Elom and Grace while we each read our books on a Sunday afternoon (I've turned them into geeks like me, YES), and playing DJ on my laptop while they show me the latest dance they've choreographed.
3 and a half days. Clara told me she's going to be out of the house on Sunday morning because she doesn't want to see me with my suitcase getting all airport-y. I still can't believe my time is up. People often ask me what I like most about Togo - I don't even have to think about it, it's the people that make this country. I've learned enormous amounts from them, and will never forget the impact they've made on my life. I hope one day I can come back.
I met the new intern this week. My "replacement".
I've come to the conclusion that meeting and interacting with other Yovos is now a strange experience. Very strange.
First of all, they seem very very white. Like very white. This girl was Finnish and I kept staring at her skin, almost in disbelief. Yes, I do realise how odd I sound right now.
I also talk differently. I guess I got used to speaking to people who weren't fluent in English so I automatically simplify my words, slow down my speech, cut out any slang, and just don't sound like myself at all. It's almost a relief to just talk like myself, without having to worry whether the other person will miss something that I've said.
We talked about things that only Yovos really notice in Africa, also very weird. For example, "So do you ever drink tap water?", "Man how weird is the fish sometimes", "Have you seen that AIDS billboard with the old guy on it?" (I only mentioned that because there are many shocking billboards on the roadsides - ask me about them and I'll tell you. SHOCKING. Shocking enough that I can't bring myself to elaborate right here.)
I suddenly felt like home wasn't that far away. I don't know how to explain this really. Okay, so I'm leaving on Sunday morning. It's weird - going back to ordinary life doesn't seem possible. Like, I guess that being here is so different to my "normal" life that going back to it feels like I'm going to another planet, and that either my life before Togo, or my mini-life in Togo, were just dreams that I had once upon a time. After being here for 7 weeks, I've gotten used to a lot of things, and un-used to a lot of things that were habits before. When I first got here, it felt like I was going to be here for a really long time, and it was difficult to come to grips with it. But then with any change in lifestyle, you eventually get into the swing of things, you find things that make you feel like a place is home, you find your way around, figure out how to get the things you need, the way things are done, understand certain cultural differences a little more, and you make friends and synchronise with your new life.
It's interesting comparing who you were before such an experience with who you are afterwards. There are a lot, and I mean a LOT of things that I'm used to now that I never ever ever thought I could possibly ever be okay with. Even just a lot of personal characteristics that I've had to suppress or overcome, and others that I've had to develop and improve. Sometimes I'll just look around at my surroundings and it hits me just how different this life is to "my life". I'm in Africa. Rasha is in Africa. I thought about this trip a lot before I came here, trying to imagine what it would be like, and whether I'd go through with it or whether I could handle it. In a sense I guess I was setting a challenge for myself, seeing if I could bite the bullet and commit; dive into unknown territory. On some level, it all seemed too different and too far away to ever materialise into reality, but it did, and I'm here. SO WEIRD. And now it's almost over. I feel torn - there's a sadness when I think about the people, places and things that I know I'm going to miss (especially the people), but then when I think about going back to what's familiar, I admit, I feel relieved. With all the incredible things I've experienced here, it hasn't been easy, but I'm grateful for that. I'm glad that I got to see a lot of things with my own eyes, meet remarkable people, and learn priceless lessons, not just about the world, but about
myself and my role, however insignificant, in it.Last night was tough - normally the kids come only on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, but last Sunday I told them to come every afternoon this week and we'd just play games and sing songs and have fun. Man. I don't know how I'm going to go through with leaving them. It's amazing how despite the language barrier, we've still communicated, and connected, and developed relationships with each other. I've gotten very attached to them - they truly brighten my day. They keep threatening to cry when I leave. One girl yesterday kept ignoring me and didn't want to talk, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said that it was because I was leaving. I can't help but feel like by leaving, I'm letting go of a responsibility. I keep trying to think of ways that I can continue being a part of their lives after I go, and gathering email addresses and phone numbers so that I can keep in touch, but it just doesn't feel like enough. I'm almost jealous of the new intern - while she was greeting them yesterday, I just watched, thinking: no, they're my kids, get off my territory, don't replace me! I don't want them to forget me, because my God, I'm not going to forget them.
Don't EVEN get me started on my feelings about leaving my host family. Every night now, one of them will bring up the fact that our time is running out, and I feel this tightness in my chest because I know it's true. I'm going to miss sitting outside together and laughing, I'm going to miss Clara's INCREDIBLE storytelling (this woman has a gift - she can be telling a story about how she got a certain mosquito bite and it's completely riveting). I'm going to miss having visitors stop over in the evenings, sitting in the cool night air, listening to the sound of the language and the animated expression in their voices while they talk. I'm going to miss lying on the straw mat with Elom and Grace while we each read our books on a Sunday afternoon (I've turned them into geeks like me, YES), and playing DJ on my laptop while they show me the latest dance they've choreographed.
3 and a half days. Clara told me she's going to be out of the house on Sunday morning because she doesn't want to see me with my suitcase getting all airport-y. I still can't believe my time is up. People often ask me what I like most about Togo - I don't even have to think about it, it's the people that make this country. I've learned enormous amounts from them, and will never forget the impact they've made on my life. I hope one day I can come back.
1 comment:
WOW Rasha, you made me cry, I can feel every word you said. I know how kind and kind herted are these people and i am so happy you planned and organized this trip and that you made it and attained wonderful achievements on all levels. I am sure you will be back one day to this part of the world one day. I love you Rasha and I am proud of you.
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