Carry here, carry there

The things that we carry say a lot about ourselves. Sometimes it feels like what or where of how we carry defines us. That which we carry can help us fit in better. On the other hand, these things can make us stand out and not fit in.

During a recent spirituality night, a component of the program where my fellow volunteers and I reflect on our experiences, I thought about this question. The prompt was: choose two pictures and think about the dynamic between those images here and back in the United States. I chose one picture of an iPod and another of a Maasai warrior. The Maasai are a prominent tribe from Northern Tanzania who still wear traditional clothes and are known for their strength as warriors. (I have become fascinated and in awe of these people).

Anyways, looking at these two images, I got caught up in thinking about what we carry both physically and emotionally. The Maasai carry walking sticks, daggers and a forceful strength. In their plaid clothes called ‘shukas’, these men and women walk through city streets bridging a span of time and tradition. Then there is me, living my days teaching and growing with a small part of this huge city. Each time I see one of these elegant yet rugged warriors, I am shocked back into realizing the gift that is my life here.

Back to carrying and the reason for this post: where we go and how we go there can look or feel different depending on what we carry. While I like the image of one of these Maasai men with an iPod clipped to his delicately beaded belt, the two feel worlds apart. The unfamiliar and the familiar, however, are shifting as the hours, days, weeks and months define my perceptions, understandings and, simply put, me.

As I walk through the streets and walkways between houses of Mabibo, I do not carry the same things that I did in Seattle. Five months ago, walking to work with an iPod in one pocket and a wallet with an ID, atm card, credit card and so on, was somewhat of a security blanket. These items seemed essential and made me feel normal. There I was, securely stable and successfully striding toward my next destination with my things, my comforts.

Here, I rarely carry money, I haven’t an iPod and security is not the feeling that guides my path. What do I carry here? I currently carry thoughts of exams, exercise books and enthusiastic students; to-do lists, to-email lists and to-pray for lists. I carry friendships new and old. I carry uncertainty. Above all, however, I carry hope. Hope for my children. Hope for this new life. Hope for those I love back home.

I guess if I can conclude with my first statement that what we carry is that which defines us, I am defined by my thoughts, my to-do lists and my hope.

Lastly, to anyone who is reading this, I hope you are well. I miss home and I miss you. There is not a day that goes by that I am not overwhelmed with thanksgiving and gratitude for the people who have inspired and supported me. So, I thank you, I love you and I hope you feel a bit closer to me and my life here in Tanzania after reading this!