Just some thoughts...

For the past week I've been volunteering at an arts/education center in Tanzania. My life here is quite extravagant by my standards: hot showers, vegetarian cuisine, internet...and although my time here has been wonderful, I am struggling to find my place.

And why does this upset me so much? After all, my stay here is only temporary...

I think to answer this, I have to be honest about the kind of life I've been living in Gatundu. There, I'm treated the same as all of the other teachers (all of whom are Kenyan.) We eat together, we work together, we live together and we all have the same responsibilities. Life is not extravagant, but it is very nice and I have never been cold or hungry. Don't get me wrong -- the circumstances that I come from, being an American living in Kenya, automatically put me in a different situation than those around me. I am in no way trying to assume that my life is "the same" as the Kenyans that I have met, but we are all provided with the same basic resources from the school.

My time in Tanzania has been quite different. I have been treated according to my assumed status (like a wealthy, American tourist). If I did not want to have any interactions with the locals, it would be very easy for me to avoid them. If I did not care about learning about Tanzanian culture, it would be very easy for me to stay in my little, comfortable bubble. If I didn't want to learn, I wouldn't have to.

There have been many examples of segregation between the "volunteers" and the Tanzanian staff members, but here is one example. Everyday, the visitors are provided with three amazingly prepared meals. On my first night here, Jared, the chef, even asked me if I was a vegetarian (a word which almost escapes Kenyan vocabulary). The food that we eat is quite Americanized, with french fries, pizza, and steamed vegetables being on the menu a few times a week. While I am very appreciative of the food that I am given, I noticed that the students, teachers and staff members all eat different meals than we do. Usually, they eat some combination of rice and beans, which is typical of East African cuisine. It is not fancy, but it is inexpensive to prepare and filling for even the most hungry people!

Why does this happen? Why am I given such a fancy meal while the chef himself eats ugali?

Even though I will have lived here for three weeks, I cannot say that I know anything about what it is like to live in Tanzania. I cannot even tell you the basic differences between life in Kenya and life here. But in realizing this, I spend a great deal of time with the staff on the compound, because when pealing potatoes or washing dishes I might learn something new about this culture. So what scares me the most about this set up is not the result of my own experience, but the results of the experiences of the many, many other visitors who pass through the center. Will the same questions run through their heads? Will they leave claiming that they have had a cultural experience?

How can change happen if we never step outside of what is familiar? How can we grow if we never try something different?

I never thought that I would prefer ugali and cabbage in the staff room at Icaciri to mashed potatoes and Eggplant Parmesan...but that is what is happening. I am so thankful for my life in Gatundu. I am thankful that I am treated like a friend and a colleague, and not like a visitor.

Have you ever wondered what people from other cultures think of Americans or American culture? After staying here for only a few days, I am curious to know what the chef thinks. Maybe I'll go ask him. I'm sure he'll have a very interesting perspective :)