I know I have said this before but
I feel it applies more and more every day I spend in Africa. I’ve always known
that I would love this place, like I was meant for this place, that this place
would change me. It seems sappy to constantly be writing about this happiness
and the unceasing love that I receive, but it’s my simple, wonderful life, and
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Most of the things that make me
love Africa I probably wouldn’t if I were in America. I love taxis that are so
full you can’t even move, that their doors all have tricks to get them to open
and shut, and they have to close their trunk doors five times to get it to
latch. I love that you can’t go anywhere without getting completely covered in
dirt because it’s dry season. I love that you greet everyone you meet along the
way to where you are going, and that often times, even complete strangers, will
ask you where you are going and why. I love that the villagers and children
know my name, or their versions of my name. (Courndy, Court-ta-ney, Cotin,
Curtain, Cotini, and many more.) I love that the more I fall in love with these
people, and this place, the less I see of the things that make us different. I
love the old people in the village without teeth, I love the snotty nosed
children who are often times covered in fungus, and my heart breaks and
overflows with love for the people with HIV. I love that Angel and I go to
every football game and that the villagers fill with pride at having wazungu
(whiteys) go support their team. I love that the football games are often times
played in the worst fields I have ever seen, including a game that was
literally in the middle of a cow pasture. I love that every day is an
opportunity to learn, grow, and change. I love that I never go a day without a
million hugs and kisses from the most beautiful children I have ever seen. I
love working so hard in the field that at the end of the day all I do is fall
into bed, exhausted and feeling accomplished. I just love that the things that
bring me the most happiness and joy are the little things, the things that
often go unnoticed, the things that are often taken for granted.
A couple of weeks ago I had a
water bottle in the freezer, and naturally the water froze. When I took the
water bottle out the children were amazed. They all wanted to hold the water
bottle and see the contents inside. I never in my life thought I would see
people get so excited and so amazed over something as simple as ice. It’s the
times like these that make me never want to leave a place so simple and so
beautiful. (Now the children all have their own water bottles in the freezer
and want to have ice all of the time.)
Angel and I have started to get
out more and hang with the villagers. Every evening for about an hour we go to
the school and play volleyball with some of the twenty-something year olds in
the village. It’s a great time with African rules like using your head and feet
to hit the ball is considered a really great hit. (And actually it usually is,
if it makes it over the net.) We are playing with mostly guys but we’ve been
working on getting a few more girls to play!
The last few weeks, almost month
now, have been spent working in the fields. We have been harvesting maize,
potatoes, and wheat. I never picture being a farmer, and I definitely never
pictured loving it; working till your whole body hurts, being covered in dirt, callouses
forming on your hands, getting the most awesome farmers tan, and at the end of
the day just falling into bed, exhausted and content.
Well i am officially coming home for a little over a month. I leave Tanzania on November 4, and leave America December 12. While i am excited to return home to see everyone, my children are not as excited. They said they would rather i stayed in Tanzania, but when i told them that i would bring back gifts for them, they gave me an ok for two weeks.
Here are some pictures of the past few weeks, the highlights at least.
(sorry for the delay in post, no internet lately and lots of working in the shamba(field))
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| Sesi's 8th birthday |
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| Priska and Akwirino, working in the shamba. |
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| Akwirino |
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| Elenesta |
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| Priska's 13th birthday |
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| Harvesting Corn |
I know I have said this before but
I feel it applies more and more every day I spend in Africa. I’ve always known
that I would love this place, like I was meant for this place, that this place
would change me. It seems sappy to constantly be writing about this happiness
and the unceasing love that I receive, but it’s my simple, wonderful life, and
I wouldn’t have it any other way. 
