Friday, May 28, 2010
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
The Ocean
“If I get out of this, I’ll never live again in the limits of a lake. Next time, the ocean! I’ll make the infinite my home.” – Rumi
I’ve had writer’s block since November, which has meant both an empty blog and a sparsely filled journal during this time. On one hand, I feel like I have nothing new to say. On the other, I feel so incredibly overwhelmed with new stories and thoughts that I don’t know where to begin. Someday, a book may suffice.
“Adventure is a path. Real adventure, self-determined, self-motivated, often risky, forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world, the world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way, you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind, and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black and white.” - Mark Jenkins
I think it will take many years to fully wrap my head around what these past 25 months have meant, how my Self has been transformed, and how my previous perceptions of the world, of people, of relationships, of culture, and of international aid work have exploded. In these current moments, I simply don’t have the words to express most of it. It . . . seems more complex than anything I have ever known.
For now, I can say that my time living in Botswana has made me stronger, in part because it has redefined several terms for me:
Boredom is NOT the feeling of having little to do or an inability to choose among the options.
Boredom is having no more than five options of what to do with your time, and you have explored those five options so often that those activities are no longer exciting, interesting or even mildly appealing. Boredom is the longing for more options.
Loneliness is NOT being physically alone or aching to fall in love with someone who cares as deeply for you.
Loneliness is caused by the inability to connect. Cultural barriers are so thick and so tall that they are impenetrable and impossible to see over. Loneliness comes when you feel so isolated because no matter how you try to interact with others, you feel like you just can’t connect.
Indecisiveness is NOT indifference or ambivalence about a decision.
Indecisiveness is the inability to choose between two options because what you really want is option number three. Option number three is never available. You can’t choose between pasta and rice because what you really want is green vegetables. You can’t choose between 11 hours on a bus or 9 hours in a car because what you really want is to be able to afford the 45-minute flight. Decisiveness and triumph arrives when we work with what we have.
Burnout is NOT wanting something different or being ready for something different.
Burnout is completely shutting down. It is a version of post-traumatic stress disorder. It is the complete lack of any capacity to take on any new projects, to talk about what you’ve been doing, to talk about anything related to your work or your “exotic” life.
Living in the moment is NOT about being spontaneous and making lemonade out of lemons that life has given you.
Living in the moment means being grateful for silence and solitude, accepting situations completely as they are without any interest to change them or any frustration. Living in the moment is wrestling with demons you thought you chased away long ago. Living in the moment is looking within your Self instead of pointing fingers.
Expectations are not the things you hope and dream for. Expectations are not the big assumptions we make about how things will turn out or what will be provided to us.
Expectations are all of the little things we take for granted within our cultural norm. I cannot expect people to understand the words coming out of my mouth, whether I speak English or Setswana. I cannot expect the internet to work. I cannot expect my phone network to be operating. I cannot expect the post office to have stamps. I cannot expect my co-workers to fulfill any of the duties in their job description. I cannot expect people to care - about anything - from good customer service to a dying baby - because I will never understand centuries of culture that has made people who they are in their home country or the innermost priorities of their lives.
The only things I can expect is that gravity still exists, that the sun will rise and set, and that I will continue breathing through every moment.
“When you travel, remember that foreign countries are not designed to make you comfortable. They are designed to make their own people comfortable.” - Clifton Fadiman
I have never felt more patriotic in my life. America means having options, and I miss having a plethora of options, in every context, more than anything. There are several parts of my life in Botswana that I will miss, but I long for America, and all of its complicated, messy, imperfect glory. In many ways, I got exactly what I wanted, and so much more, in my experience abroad. I can’t express enough how grateful I am for that. However, I am eager for next steps in my life.
My last day in Botswana is May 18th. From there, I travel to Madagascar, Egypt and Berlin. I land in Los Angeles June 21st, and from there I move to New York for graduate school sometime mid to late July.
As I think about this transitional phase of re-entry back into the States, I am excited, but I know it will also be a challenge. I try to reflect on who I was, but my life pre-Peace Corps seems like a hazy and distant reverie. My friendships, past relationships, and love interests have faded into a far-off memory that feels like someone else’s life.
To those of you who want to know how I’ve changed or what it was like, I don’t know how to answer those questions, and I don’t know when I will. The very thought of trying to answer those questions feels incredibly overwhelming, in part because the full answers have yet to be revealed to me.
For now, this Rumi poem sums up how I feel after this experience and time away from everything that is familiar, both identity-less and one with humankind in a way I could never understand before I took this journey.
“Not Christian or Jew or
Muslim, not Hindu,
Buddhist, Sufi, or Zen.
Not any religion
or cultural system. I am
not from the east
or the west, not
out of the ocean or up
from the ground, not
natural or ethereal, not
composed of elements at all.
I do not exist,
am not an entity in this
world or the next,
did not descend from
Adam and Eve or any
origin story. My place is
the placeless, a trace
of the traceless.
Neither body nor soul.
I belong to the beloved,
have seen the two
worlds as one and
that one
call to and know,
first, last, outer, inner,
only that breath breathing
human being.”
-Rumi
Despite feeling a bit unsettled due to an inability to express, I am so incredibly happy. I wouldn’t have traded this experience for the world, and I am beyond ecstatic about where my life is headed. My time in this land-locked African country is coming to a close.
I’m ready for a different sense of freedom. I’m ready for the next steps that will lead me to something bigger. I’m ready for America. I’m ready for the ocean.
“Do you think water is strong? The river? What about the ocean? When you find yourself facing the ocean, the question of whether or not it’s strong doesn’t really matter anymore. Water is water no matter where it is. That’s the nature of who we are. Our true value is not in being the water but in that we could be the ocean. Can you be the ocean?” - Kohei Azano
I’ve had writer’s block since November, which has meant both an empty blog and a sparsely filled journal during this time. On one hand, I feel like I have nothing new to say. On the other, I feel so incredibly overwhelmed with new stories and thoughts that I don’t know where to begin. Someday, a book may suffice.
“Adventure is a path. Real adventure, self-determined, self-motivated, often risky, forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world, the world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way, you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind, and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black and white.” - Mark Jenkins
I think it will take many years to fully wrap my head around what these past 25 months have meant, how my Self has been transformed, and how my previous perceptions of the world, of people, of relationships, of culture, and of international aid work have exploded. In these current moments, I simply don’t have the words to express most of it. It . . . seems more complex than anything I have ever known.
For now, I can say that my time living in Botswana has made me stronger, in part because it has redefined several terms for me:
Boredom is NOT the feeling of having little to do or an inability to choose among the options.
Boredom is having no more than five options of what to do with your time, and you have explored those five options so often that those activities are no longer exciting, interesting or even mildly appealing. Boredom is the longing for more options.
Loneliness is NOT being physically alone or aching to fall in love with someone who cares as deeply for you.
Loneliness is caused by the inability to connect. Cultural barriers are so thick and so tall that they are impenetrable and impossible to see over. Loneliness comes when you feel so isolated because no matter how you try to interact with others, you feel like you just can’t connect.
Indecisiveness is NOT indifference or ambivalence about a decision.
Indecisiveness is the inability to choose between two options because what you really want is option number three. Option number three is never available. You can’t choose between pasta and rice because what you really want is green vegetables. You can’t choose between 11 hours on a bus or 9 hours in a car because what you really want is to be able to afford the 45-minute flight. Decisiveness and triumph arrives when we work with what we have.
Burnout is NOT wanting something different or being ready for something different.
Burnout is completely shutting down. It is a version of post-traumatic stress disorder. It is the complete lack of any capacity to take on any new projects, to talk about what you’ve been doing, to talk about anything related to your work or your “exotic” life.
Living in the moment is NOT about being spontaneous and making lemonade out of lemons that life has given you.
Living in the moment means being grateful for silence and solitude, accepting situations completely as they are without any interest to change them or any frustration. Living in the moment is wrestling with demons you thought you chased away long ago. Living in the moment is looking within your Self instead of pointing fingers.
Expectations are not the things you hope and dream for. Expectations are not the big assumptions we make about how things will turn out or what will be provided to us.
Expectations are all of the little things we take for granted within our cultural norm. I cannot expect people to understand the words coming out of my mouth, whether I speak English or Setswana. I cannot expect the internet to work. I cannot expect my phone network to be operating. I cannot expect the post office to have stamps. I cannot expect my co-workers to fulfill any of the duties in their job description. I cannot expect people to care - about anything - from good customer service to a dying baby - because I will never understand centuries of culture that has made people who they are in their home country or the innermost priorities of their lives.
The only things I can expect is that gravity still exists, that the sun will rise and set, and that I will continue breathing through every moment.
“When you travel, remember that foreign countries are not designed to make you comfortable. They are designed to make their own people comfortable.” - Clifton Fadiman
I have never felt more patriotic in my life. America means having options, and I miss having a plethora of options, in every context, more than anything. There are several parts of my life in Botswana that I will miss, but I long for America, and all of its complicated, messy, imperfect glory. In many ways, I got exactly what I wanted, and so much more, in my experience abroad. I can’t express enough how grateful I am for that. However, I am eager for next steps in my life.
My last day in Botswana is May 18th. From there, I travel to Madagascar, Egypt and Berlin. I land in Los Angeles June 21st, and from there I move to New York for graduate school sometime mid to late July.
As I think about this transitional phase of re-entry back into the States, I am excited, but I know it will also be a challenge. I try to reflect on who I was, but my life pre-Peace Corps seems like a hazy and distant reverie. My friendships, past relationships, and love interests have faded into a far-off memory that feels like someone else’s life.
To those of you who want to know how I’ve changed or what it was like, I don’t know how to answer those questions, and I don’t know when I will. The very thought of trying to answer those questions feels incredibly overwhelming, in part because the full answers have yet to be revealed to me.
For now, this Rumi poem sums up how I feel after this experience and time away from everything that is familiar, both identity-less and one with humankind in a way I could never understand before I took this journey.
“Not Christian or Jew or
Muslim, not Hindu,
Buddhist, Sufi, or Zen.
Not any religion
or cultural system. I am
not from the east
or the west, not
out of the ocean or up
from the ground, not
natural or ethereal, not
composed of elements at all.
I do not exist,
am not an entity in this
world or the next,
did not descend from
Adam and Eve or any
origin story. My place is
the placeless, a trace
of the traceless.
Neither body nor soul.
I belong to the beloved,
have seen the two
worlds as one and
that one
call to and know,
first, last, outer, inner,
only that breath breathing
human being.”
-Rumi
Despite feeling a bit unsettled due to an inability to express, I am so incredibly happy. I wouldn’t have traded this experience for the world, and I am beyond ecstatic about where my life is headed. My time in this land-locked African country is coming to a close.
I’m ready for a different sense of freedom. I’m ready for the next steps that will lead me to something bigger. I’m ready for America. I’m ready for the ocean.
“Do you think water is strong? The river? What about the ocean? When you find yourself facing the ocean, the question of whether or not it’s strong doesn’t really matter anymore. Water is water no matter where it is. That’s the nature of who we are. Our true value is not in being the water but in that we could be the ocean. Can you be the ocean?” - Kohei Azano
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Island of Madagascar
For several years, I have dreamed of a trip to Madagascar. These thoughts arose before the Hollywood blockbuster came out, a movie which I’ve never seen, a movie which depicts many animals (lions, zebras, penguins, giraffes, hippos and more) that don’t even live anywhere in Madagascar. I think that’s unfortunate because Madagascar is one of the most biologically diverse places on the planet with 80% of its species unique to the country. I know, it’s just a movie. ;)
Immediately following the end of my Peace Corps service, I made the trip to this beautiful island and spent a week hiking through lush green rain forests and stumbling upon creatures found nowhere else in the world.
Madagascar is the fourth largest island in the world, located off the southeastern coast of Africa in the Indian Ocean. A country slightly larger than Texas, it is home to approximately 16 million people.
Stacy (another Peace Corps Volunteer) and I spent a day in the capital after our flight from Joberg and took a domestic flight up to the northeastern part of the island the following day. We spent 8 days here, in the largest piece of protected rain forest on the island. Our first two days were spent on Nosy Mangabe, an island just off the coast. For those two days, there were only 5 people on the entire island: Stacy, myself, our boat driver, our guide, and our cook. It is home to many animals, but no humans.
The flight:
Boat to the island:
The shore, where rainforest meets beach:
The burnt sienna sand:
Our home for 2 nights:
Our waterfall shower:
Our new friends, the real characters of Madagascar:
The leaf-tailed gecko:
The mouse lemur:
Some of many frogs of which I don’t know the name:
The brown lemur:
The panther chameleon:
The white-faced lemur:
A molting cricket:
The black and white lemur:
The pygmy chameleon, the world’s smallest:
The Madagascar snail:
After a few days on the island, we took a boat to the town of Maronsetra (home to the tomato frog) and then another boat to our bungalow in the rainforest where we found more creatures and spent a morning snorkeling at the marine reserve swimming with many colorful fish.
An angry female tomato frog:
Happy tomato frogs:
Tomato frog tadpoles:
Our bungalow in the rainforest:
Sunset on the beach:
Hermit crab:
Slug:
Stick bug that’s bigger than your hand:
The red-ruffed lemur:
More frogs:
Sand spider:
The tenrec:
A baby gecko:
Another panther chameleon:
The Madagascar day gecko:
The crazed blue speedo lemur:
For the full album, click below:
Immediately following the end of my Peace Corps service, I made the trip to this beautiful island and spent a week hiking through lush green rain forests and stumbling upon creatures found nowhere else in the world.
Madagascar is the fourth largest island in the world, located off the southeastern coast of Africa in the Indian Ocean. A country slightly larger than Texas, it is home to approximately 16 million people.
Stacy (another Peace Corps Volunteer) and I spent a day in the capital after our flight from Joberg and took a domestic flight up to the northeastern part of the island the following day. We spent 8 days here, in the largest piece of protected rain forest on the island. Our first two days were spent on Nosy Mangabe, an island just off the coast. For those two days, there were only 5 people on the entire island: Stacy, myself, our boat driver, our guide, and our cook. It is home to many animals, but no humans.
The flight:
Boat to the island:
The shore, where rainforest meets beach:
The burnt sienna sand:
Our home for 2 nights:
Our waterfall shower:
Our new friends, the real characters of Madagascar:
The leaf-tailed gecko:
The mouse lemur:
Some of many frogs of which I don’t know the name:
The brown lemur:
The panther chameleon:
The white-faced lemur:
A molting cricket:
The black and white lemur:
The pygmy chameleon, the world’s smallest:
The Madagascar snail:
After a few days on the island, we took a boat to the town of Maronsetra (home to the tomato frog) and then another boat to our bungalow in the rainforest where we found more creatures and spent a morning snorkeling at the marine reserve swimming with many colorful fish.
An angry female tomato frog:
Happy tomato frogs:
Tomato frog tadpoles:
Our bungalow in the rainforest:
Sunset on the beach:
Hermit crab:
Slug:
Stick bug that’s bigger than your hand:
The red-ruffed lemur:
More frogs:
Sand spider:
The tenrec:
A baby gecko:
Another panther chameleon:
The Madagascar day gecko:
The crazed blue speedo lemur:
For the full album, click below:
Unblogged Excursions: Quick Notes and Lots of Pictures
I’ve taken several trips over the past couple of years in southern Africa that I haven’t blogged about. Since my time in Botswana is almost over, now seems to be the best time to post about them. I’m going to write very little and post a lot of pictures. I trust my readers won’t mind. ;)
Over New Year’s, I went to Mozambique and Swaziland for 2 weeks with 7 others. We spent about 30 hours on buses to get to our first destination of Tofo, Mozambique, and it was worth it. We played on the beach, went snorkeling with whale sharks and dolphins, danced in the rain on the beach at midnight, stayed in a wildlife sanctuary in Swaziland and saw spectacular lightening storms.
Last summer, I took a quick trip across the border, between Zambia and Zimbabwe, to Victoria Falls, one of the seven natural wonders of the world.
In February, while in Kasane, in Northeastern Botswana, I went on a boat ride on the Chobe River and had my closest encounters with elephants and hippos.
Finally, two months ago, I went on my last safari and saw more wildlife in one trip that I thought possible. It was at Lagoon Camp, close to the Namibian border. There were only 6 tourists there, and several guides, with no other people around for at least a 30 mile radius. We got close to cheetahs, a hyena and cubs, a leopard in a tree with its lunch, and many other animals.
For the full album of photos from Lagoon Camp, click below:
Over New Year’s, I went to Mozambique and Swaziland for 2 weeks with 7 others. We spent about 30 hours on buses to get to our first destination of Tofo, Mozambique, and it was worth it. We played on the beach, went snorkeling with whale sharks and dolphins, danced in the rain on the beach at midnight, stayed in a wildlife sanctuary in Swaziland and saw spectacular lightening storms.
Last summer, I took a quick trip across the border, between Zambia and Zimbabwe, to Victoria Falls, one of the seven natural wonders of the world.
In February, while in Kasane, in Northeastern Botswana, I went on a boat ride on the Chobe River and had my closest encounters with elephants and hippos.
Finally, two months ago, I went on my last safari and saw more wildlife in one trip that I thought possible. It was at Lagoon Camp, close to the Namibian border. There were only 6 tourists there, and several guides, with no other people around for at least a 30 mile radius. We got close to cheetahs, a hyena and cubs, a leopard in a tree with its lunch, and many other animals.
For the full album of photos from Lagoon Camp, click below:
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