2017 Travel Questions and Superlatives

 

After a whirlwind of a return to the U.S. in which I have spent getting reacquainted to the fast paced life of New York City, Pennsylvania and Charlotte, I have had some (generally) thoughtful questions regarding my favorite and least favorite parts of my journey this last two and a half years.  I wanted to share them with you all and hope that it gives a bit of perspective on my experiences as well as helps you when speaking to a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer in the future.  We are a bit overwhelmed by the amount of stimulus intake and might be feeling somewhat lost in a world of fast paced English speaking and over-consumption, so your patience and understanding while we transition is more of a gift than any physical one could ever compare to.

 

How was Africa?

I cannot comment upon the entire continent of Africa, but the eight countries that I visited were lovely and unique in their own respects.  We should all check the way that we speak about Africa, especially the ways that the media portrays the continent and lumps it into poverty porn for the benefit of charity organizations and feeling superior in the West.  Check out an awesome article below that discusses the detriment of unchecked privilege and misunderstandings.

https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2013/08/confusing-country-continent-how-we-talk-about-africa/311621/

 

How did you manage to travel so long after your service? Wasn’t it expensive?

In total, after traveling for five months exactly, I spent less money than most people would spend just on their monthly rent for five months, especially now that the housing market has exploded in the Charlotte area. I traveled by bus instead of by plane, unless water got in the way, cooked a lot of my own meals, stayed at hostels or CouchSurfing instead of staying at hotels. I prioritized new experiences and mental health over a flat screen TV, the latest iPhone or a new version of a car that was working just fine.

 

What I looked like for five months – a homeless blob of bags and back pain.

 

Which country did you have the best CouchSurfing experiences in?

Ukraine. I met some really unique and incredible people who shared their cultures, customs and great conversations as well as their homes. It felt really natural to be near where my ancestors came from and to get to know new routines, occupations and perspectives. I felt an affinity to the mindsets of the friends I met while in Ukraine and appreciated the curiosity and kindness I felt.

 

Finding local restaurants off the beaten path – the benefits of staying with someone who knows the best places.

 

How was your experience in the Peace Corps?

Amazing, perspective shifting, some of the most difficult and challenging experiences I have ever had. I cannot begin to culminate 2.5 years into a few sentences; can you tell me how your last 2.5 years have been?

 

Just harassing some kids at the Orphanage in Khorixas.

 

Wait, you were in Africa.. does that mean you have HIV, Ebola, Yellow Fever or some other scary disease that I can’t pronounce and don’t know the epidemiology of because you were living with people who were biologically different from you?

This one came as a surprise to me, although I should have been prepared for it.  Despite the fact that the Ebola epidemic was mostly contained in West Africa (Namibia is in Southern Africa, for geographic reference – https://www.cdc.gov/vhf/ebola/index.html) and you can contract HIV anywhere in the world if you participate in unsafe and risky behaviors, I have begun to learn empathy for those who have never had education outside of “Africa is dangerous”.  There are more people living with HIV in Charlotte than the population of my entire village in Namibia.  In order to be invited into the Peace Corps, we have to go through rigorous health testing to ensure that we are fit for service.  We also get quite a bit of blood work done towards the end of our service, including optional testing for HIV and a slew of antimalarial, schistosomiasis pills to make sure that we are returning at optimal health.  I have chosen to use this question as an opportunity to provide education on foreign health and take on a very transparent communication about my health while abroad and returning.  If you have specific questions about vaccinations, prophylaxis or how my health is looking now that I have returned, please feel free to ask.

 

What city or country had the best food?

I absolutely loved the fresh fruits and vegetables everywhere in Uganda, and my budget loved it even more. The friend I was traveling with at the time and I made a lot of guacamole for meals and our hosts, one of which introduced us to the best goat cheese and cafes in Kampala. This is also the home of the Rolex, a flat egg with veggies and onions wrapped in a fresh chapatti and all the oil your body can handle, which we feasted on many times (by that I mean every day).

 

In my element, taking over someone’s kitchen.

 

 

Which country did you spend the most time in?

I spent almost a month in Germany, traveling to the main cities and visiting old and new friends. I have now dedicated myself to becoming fluent in German, so being there helped me to practice having conversations instead of just learning vocabulary on DuoLingo. It was the first country I visited after leaving the African continent, and provided just the right amount of Westernization with the strict time constraints that I hadn’t felt in two years of Namibian non-existent time.

 

Sunrise in Berlin, Germany

 

Which country did you feel the most culture shock in?

Outside of the U.S, the UAE left my jaw on the floor. I spent an 8 hour layover in Dubai on my way to Germany and thanks to a fantastic friend, got to see a few amazing places in the city of lights and excess. I think that Dubai is overwhelming to most people, but it was certainly a contrast to the oft-felt depravity of where I was living and traveling. The lights, the huge infrastructure, taking a gondola to the restaurant where we were having dinner – it was a lot to take in. But nothing beats the noise of Charlotte traffic, suburban normalization and the “Jesus Saves” bumper stickers that abound my current peripherals.

 

Brooklyn, NYC after the initial enormity of the city wore off.

 

Which city had the best architecture?

Initially I thought that I would have said Prague, for the rest of my life, but then I went to Gdańsk in the northern tip of Poland. Nestled on the Baltic Sea amidst old shipping ports, the architecture here had me wishing that I was able to spend more than one extended day there. The starting point for World War II (many people know the city by its German name Danzig), a few buildings are left structurally intact, but most were reconstructed similarly to Warsaw.

 

Gdańsk, Poland

 

What was the best book you read while traveling?

Definitely a tie between Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche and The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. Both fantastic female authors who bring about modern issues of feminism, freedom and morality (or mortality in Atwood’s case). I read Americanah passing from Kenya into Uganda and The Handmaid’s Tale in Ethiopia before I finally left the continent – books that will remain my mind alongside my memories of these countries.

 

Butterfly Space Hostel, Malawi – the most dreadful hour long ride up a mountain for the most worth-while views in the country.

 

Where did you feel the most in danger?

New York City. I arrived back in the Big Apple a few days before the most recent attack and happened to be staying at a hotel two blocks away from the crime scene. Many people assume that it is incredibly dangerous to travel in Africa or in Central and Eastern Europe, but I felt nothing but appreciation for the warm welcomes that I received in all of my wanderings. A little extra awareness and cultural sensitivity to where you are traveling goes a long way in regard to your safety in a new country.

 

Hotel room view of the One World Trade Center, NYC

 

Where did you feel the most harassment?

And the grand winner is.. my old village of Khorixas, Namibia! I do not say this to continue beating a dead horse, as I have spoken about the immense amount of harassment I felt while I was there many times, but I felt the need to address it since this is a question I have received multiple times. I feel as though I have processed a lot during my travels and in the last two weeks being back in the States, as well as let go of a lot of the negative experiences I had there. I am in awe of myself for persevering and navigating through challenging cultural circumstances and have embodied a new sense of confidence in my adaptability and comfort in discomfort.

 

Halloween in the ‘Xas – bringing U.S. culture to Namibia.

 

How do you think that your travels changed you?

In numerous ways, of course. I feel a profound sense of confidence in my ability to adjust and adapt to new cultures, and a real strength in cultural sensitivity. I have been able to put my stubbornness behind me (mostly) and realize that there are so many different ways to look at the world – my way might be the best for me, but it is certainly not for everyone. This goes for the Muslim women in hijabs I met in Zanzibar to the radical Christian women I have come in contact with since being back in Charlotte. A deep respect for others and the unique ways of life they encompass has become more of a priority to show respect for instead of opposition or confusion. I do not fear the unknown and instead feel more ready to embrace the possibilities of a non-traditional lifestyle.

 

Zambezi River, Zambia

 

In closing, I want to thank those of you who have offered support to me during this time of transition. It has been more of a culture shock than I anticipated, and just knowing that there are people willing to listen to my stories in broken English means more than I had ever imagined it would. I’m thankful for the friendships I have that seem to have picked up easily where we left off 2 ½ years ago, and the comfort I feel in seeing people I missed so much during my service. Thanks to all of you who give patience and understanding to RPCVs who are struggling with coming back to a home that feels more foreign than familiar.

 

Kulpmont, Pennsylvania with my 92 year old Grandfather.

Close, and Yet So Far

 

Disclaimer: This was written about a week ago.  I am completely fine, safe, staying with a good friend. (Mom, please re-read that last statement) and on my way to Rwanda very soon.  Now that you have been briefed.. Proceed 🙂

 

Here I sit in my hotel room, aptly named Hotel Harambe, feeling like I arose from the dead compared to the despair I felt yesterday. Yesterday I discovered that I unintentionally sent my passport to the UK with my friend who I had been traveling with for the last two months, meaning that I am stuck in Kampala for the foreseeable future until the extremely reliable mail system gets my document to me. After realizing this most unfortunate circumstance, I took a relaxing walk through one of the busiest sectors of the city, dodging men’s attempted grabs, avoiding the eruption of frustration that threatened to bubble up at every “owe me water, owe me your water, OWE ME COKE!” and explaining to Uganda’s citizens that it is actually not polite to call a white person ‘mzungu’ just because you see me as different (“Do I call you a black person in the street?”).

 

I was being reminded of the anger I felt in Namibia – the cold washing over of disdain for people who took one look at me and placed their predetermined ideas of who and what I was, saw me as a part of a larger whole and not an individual person. For the past two years of my Peace Corps service, I saw Namibia, but especially Khorixas, as a very different place from the rest of the African continent. I saw it as underdeveloped, but with so much potential; I saw it as a place where I had some of my lowest moments in my life and felt despair for the way I was sometimes treated; I thought it was unique in its ability to get under my skin because it became home to me, with all the arrays and nuisances that home encompassed. Last night, I was enraged all over again at the difference I felt walking through this city as a single woman as opposed to the travels I have had over the last two months in a group and then with a male friend. I felt tears burning the corners of my eyes as I choked back sadness for how little difference we make in this world, and how no matter what I do, there will always be societal hierarchies that are predetermined by many and prescribed to many more through familial and structured teachings. Despite my lack of belief in them, and my work to combat and challenge them, they will always remain.

 

I stumbled into a nearby shopping center to my hotel, in search of human contact that was not expecting me to give them money, my water or my non-existent phone number. After wandering aimlessly through the store filled with products containing fixed prices (thank God, was all I could think, I would not be charged ‘mzungu price’ like I was on the street from the hawkers, boda-boda drivers and produce ladies) I settled on conditioner so I could go home and take a shower to wash away my unsettling thoughts. As I made my way to the check-out lines, each bolstering at least 15 people, I settled into my body and consciously worked to unclench my jaw, gently smoothing the newly formed lines around my mouth from the constant grimace I wore, hoping my body language would emit a protective force field around me. I relaxed into my jeans, took a deep breath that filled the shirt I was wearing to dress modestly, just as the man in front of me turned around to look me directly in the eyes and smile. My gaze met his, ready to react defensively, as I have become so used to doing.

 

“Good evening, madam, I hope you are well.”

(me, leering and avoiding eye contact) “I am fine, thank you, I hope you are as well.”

“Yes, yes, even me, I am also fine.” (I nod my head disinterestedly)

“Please, go ahead of me in line – I have many more things than you, and I want you to feel at home in Uganda. In Uganda, we treat our visitors as we do with guests in our own home.”

(Doing double takes to see if he is serious and working on forming my lips into a smile as I thank him, telling him it is unnecessary, but knowing it is impolite to refuse a gesture from someone).

 

My friend and I were talking recently about the parallels of standing out in a foreign country when you are traveling, either being treated with so much respect (often to the point of being put onto a pedestal) that you are uncomfortable, or realizing that many people do not see you as a person – after all, tourists are simply rich people who come from other countries to exploit the resources of the country they are visiting, as I was told is the thought of many local people. Not entirely untrue, but an unfair stereotype nonetheless. We are often skipped in line, ignored when we are trying to find out information, and charged at least triple the normal price of things like street food, boda-boda rides and tickets to events and cultural sightseeing. We are laughed at when we try to greet in the local language, laughed at when people look at our hiking bags, laughed at when we don’t know where something is.

 

This is why I was so shocked at this man’s kindness, his sincere desire to make me feel more comfortable in an unfamiliar place. His lack of expectation was so refreshing that I nearly forgot about the frustrating, maddening day that had nearly led me to resigning my travels that I had felt just moments before. I paid for my conditioner and walked out of the store, back to the direction of my hotel, not even hearing the shouts of ‘mzungu, I want bottle!” and gently brushing off the men who grabbed at me to try to get me onto their boda-boda. As I sat in the hotel lobby, making plans for my friend to send my passport back to me, I realized that this is what traveling is all about – resigning the fact that you will be pushed beyond your limits, discovering that you are stronger than you ever believed and pushing through the awful moments to make room for the beautiful ones. I laughed to myself as I added “my passport” and “my unflinching sanity” to my bullet journal page of “Things I Am Letting Go Of” in my journal. After all, what more can you ask for than the blessing of experiencing new countries, new cultures and realizing how small and similar the world is?

 

I love Namibia, as a country, and many of the people who I met during my years of living there. But I will be the first to admit that I was (and still am) jaded beyond belief after my service. I felt that I had not made as much of a difference in my community as I originally hoped (of course, I recognize that almost every volunteer feels this way – the unattainable sense of accomplishment is what drives us to become Peace Corps volunteers in the first place) and had not changed people’s ideologies as much as I intended, even if only surrounding people from the United States and the roles of women in society. After last evening’s events, I feel a trickling relief and calmness spread throughout my mindset of Namibia and my work that I did there. I feel at peace with those who made my work there difficult, and peace with myself for giving my all to the cause of globalization, understanding of one another and the small impact that I know I had. I feel ready for my next adventures, my next countries I will visit, and subsequently with finding a job that brings me satisfaction and fulfillment in this crazy, unpredictable world.

 

But first, I wait for the mail system..

 

The Baha’i Temple in Kampala.  It is the only temple on the African continent that was built to symbolize the unity of all people, all religions and a more equal world for humans.

 

Things I Appreciate About Uganda:

• White Coffee – it is nearly impossible (in most of Eastern Africa) to get a black coffee with milk on the side. Most times you are asked if you want black coffee or ‘white coffee’, which consists of half of a cup of coffee and half of a cup of steamed milk. I’m not going to lie, its not bad.. Even for a coffee snob.
• Boda-bodas – I can and probably will spend an absurd amount of money (meaning, $1 or $2 per ride) to hop on the back of these janky motorcycles as transportation throughout the busy city of Kampala. Although certainly not street worthy most of the time, they do not follow normal traffic laws. This is great when you want to get somewhere quickly but would have to sit in a car for 30 minutes to get there, or opt for this careening, driving down an invisible lane, side-swiping cars along the way bodas. When there is no way, these drivers make one.
• The weather – I can see why people come and stay in Uganda when there seems to be a consistent breeze, cool temperatures and sun that is not oppressively, patriarchally hot (you’re welcome, Michael 😉 ). I have spent many happy, lazy mornings here, sitting on the back verandah of my friend’s house, drinking coffee and reading for hours. From what I hear, the weather is like that all year round, making it an optimal place for those who do not enjoy sweating all day, every day.
• English Proficiency – Uganda has been rated as one of the top countries in the developing world for its excellence in the English language (along with Kenya and Zambia), which has come as a welcome relief after traveling through Malawi and Tanzania, where English was not a main focus of the school system. I never realized how much I would appreciate being able to understand the people around me until I lived in a place where English was rarely spoken. It is lovely to see street signs that I understand (Swahili is not as common here as it was in Tanzania, Kenya and Zanzibar) and know that I will be able to communicate with most people I encounter.