Breathless

When you jump in cold water, you can literally feel the air get sucked out of your lungs. You come out of the water gasping for air – breathless.

That’s the only way to describe how Tanzania has left me – breathless.
From acres of corn fields and goats, to the cramped, endless markets; the crowds of people who smile and shout, “Mambo!”, to the 268 LOAMO students who I have absolutely, undoubtedly fallen in love with. This country is awe inspiring.

Day 1:

After 13 hours of life changing sleep, we got ready for a tour of Arusha. We met our tour guide, Rasta John, who is one of the most inspirational people I’ve ever met. As we walked to the first museum, Rasta John explained to me the morals he lives his life by: jobs are pointless if you’re only working to make benefit for yourself, but if you love what you do, success is inevitable. If you always wear a smile, people will like you because they see you have love in your heart. And peace and love must prevail over Earth.
The first part of our tour was at the Natural History Museum, where we learned about the history of Tanzania through plants, fossils, and skeletons. The rest of our day was spent at a beautiful cultural museum, and two of the cramped, insane (yet enjoyable) markets that stretched back into the streets like an endless maze.

The entire day, no matter where we went, we were greeted. In Tanzania, you greet someone by saying, “Mambo!” to which they reply, “Poa.”, and the greeting can go on even further. Every person I made eye contact with would smile and greet me, then get even more excited when they found out I knew some Swahili. I never turned a corner without someone welcoming me or asking how I’m feeling. It made me realize how informal, slightly rude, and usually nonexistent my greetings are. When I see a friend, it’s rare that I even ask how they are and genuinely want a true, meaningful response. In Tanzania it doesn’t matter if you know someone. Everyone cares about how you actually feel, because it’s in their culture. So often we forget the importance of greetings. Of leaving “first” impressions every day, long after a first meeting. Greeting someone doesn’t just mean saying hello, it means instantly being selfless, and making the conversation about the well-being of another.

Day 2:

Love can come when you least expect it. And it comes fast.
Our van bumped down the uneven dirt road, squeezing between the sagging houses. My heart shuttered and slammed against my chest, my mouth sore from trying not to smile.
I knew one of two things could happen: on one hand, the kids will be overwhelmingly grateful and absolutely in love with us. On the latter, they won’t want anything to do with us. And to be honest, my bet was on the latter. But the second I stepped out of the van, I knew I lost the bet. My feet hit the ground and instantly, kids of all ages were holding my hands, hugging me, and asking my name.

All day I worked in Class 3 with 26 students and two teachers. For the first few hours, I spent my time helping the teachers (Juliet and Mary) grade papers. Then, at 10:40, we had a tea break. After the break, Madam Juliet had to work on papers in the office, and trusted me (because of the first group) to look after the class. So I played math games and talked with Mary, but by the end of lunch, she needed to work too. I was on my own. Twenty-six pairs of dark, shiny eyes stared up at me – waiting. I knew they liked math games, so for the rest of the day I lead the class in math games, and threw in some things like Heads Up 7 Up, and outside games like “ball” and “running”.

Over the course of the day, the kids began respecting me more. I went from just, “Ava”, to “Teacha!” And every pencil, piece of paper, or box of flashcards I gave, was accepted with a huge smile of disbelief.

It sounds so incredibly cliché, but we take so many simple things for granted. However, I don’t think that the too common ungratefulness found in America is a product of our greed – but of our opportunity. Most of us are born and raised in an environment where we have unlimited access to pencils, papers, and countless other common objects. We are born with opportunities, while the students of Tanzania struggle everyday merely to sharpen a pencil they feel lucky to have.

Day 3:

Today was our last day at LOAMO, and I can’t even begin to describe it.

It has only been a day and a half, and the class of twenty-six students who used to be just students, have become my family. My new sister Einoth spent the day wrapped around my waist, while Rodrick, Sabrina, Ahlam, and Ester held my hand and played with my hair saying, “You have so many long hairs!” The rest of my family clung to my clothes and limbs.

Both teachers had to attend a staff meeting and couldn’t make it to class, so I had the whole day to play games and teach the kids. We used flashcards to learn about and practice multiplication, we drew pictures, sang, and played soccer. But it wasn’t long before my brothers and sisters were handing me cards, and asking if I could live in Africa.

Our time at LOAMO ended the same way it started – breathless.

After the goodbye ceremony, it was time to give our last hugs. We gave out our last kisses, and held the kids’ hands one last time. Hands tugged at my shirt, wrapped around my fingers, weaved through my hair, and the constant whispering of, “I love you.” echoed in my mind like a song. Einoth, her arms squeezing my stomach, looked at me with sad eyes and said, “I want to cry.”

“It’s okay to cry,” I told her as she buried her face in my scarf and sobbed.

 Less than two days. It took less than two days to change lives. To fall in love. To become a family. If something as life changing as our experience at LOAMO can happen in one and a half days… then imagine what we can accomplish in the next two weeks.