A Mzungu's story: The Journey to Self Discovery

by Simi Olabisi (United States of America)

I didn't expect to find Tanzania

The time was 2:15am. After several delays and a shaky departure, I had finally landed at Kilimanjaro airport to begin my volunteer experience in Arusha, Tanzania. I had volunteered in the past, so one would think I would know what to expect, right? And the fact that I have lived in the African continent before, would mean I would be comfortable and know what to expect from the people, right? Well, I was wrong on all accounts. I made the decision to volunteer again because I felt I was making a difference . I chose Tanzania because I thought I had something to offer there. I was greeted with Karibu! (welcome) And given the warmest welcome from my coordinator, like I was a family member they hadn’t seen in a while. I woke up the next day excited and ready for my walk to placement in the scorching African sun. From back alleys to hidden corners I found my own path. The air seemed calmer and more peaceful compared to the busy city life, the clouds were clear and I got a view of one of the many mountains in Arusha. I started to hear goats bleating and cows mooing, I turned the corner and came across a group of kids herding the animals and screaming out “Mzungu Mzungu” which loosely translates to foreigner. I would however, often get confused for a local. They sometimes started to speak to me in Swahili only for me to say I did not understand. They had this surprised look on their face and would respond “NO SWAHILI!” I got used to this after a while, and would explain to them that I was also a Mzungu. I thought I was going to placement that day to give joy and offer something, instead I received EVERYTHING! I arrived and received a Tanzanian welcome, kids came running and screaming teacher! teacher! My heart melts. And here comes the start to the expectation shift. Each day was a new adventure, some days were simple English lessons to reading, other days we were playing hopscotch, or soccer. They were so excited to learn. Every day was a new adventure, I realized how much we take for granted. They had never watched the Lion King before, a movie that was based loosely on their culture. So, of course we watched it together on my smartphone with a group of 20 plus kids. Their expressions were everything (especially with Mufasa). Christmas day, the kids got all dressed up, we ate, sang, and danced. The moment that changed my experience, was when one of the kids came up to me after the party for a hug. She looked up to me and said thank you teacher. I thought I was there to help, I did not expect to find a purpose, new drive, and family. It was time to leave, I said my goodbyes and headed back to Kilimanjaro airport. At this point, I no longer considered myself a Mzungu. I truly felt like I belonged and was leaving a part of me behind. I now had local family, friends, and a personal connection. I even updated my Swahili from a basic hello. I returned home with a different drive and look on life. Almost every day I had a reference to Tanzania, everyone had to see “my” kids and the school. And I missed my Tanzanian family so we kept in touch. My hope was this time I could return to them even a fraction of the joy they had brought into my life. I shared my experience everyone I met, fundraised and booked my tickets back to Arusha. I planned to surprise my Tanzanian teachers, and so dud not tell them I was returning and when. I arrived back in Arusha the following December, I received a message while waiting at immigration from my placement’s principal asking how I was. I ignored it. The next day, I knocked the gate it opens we see each other and the emotions start running. I was home. Thanks to the support from friends and family, I was able to give them something even greater than Christmas party, and that was priceless.