In July we had our Close-of-Service conference. The purpose of the conference was to get together with the volunteers remaining from our original group of 41, now only 25, to discuss our experiences and prepare ourselves for returning to civilization. On the last evening of the 3-day conference, in spite of it being 3 or 4 months before most of us would leave Tanzania, we had a farewell dinner. After the dinner, our Country Director Christine asked each of us to stand up and say what we’d miss most and least about our time in the Peace Corps. With little time to collect their thoughts, most people didn’t have anything very noteworthy (in my opinion) to say and I even found myself caught between trying to be funny and sentimental and I ended up probably sounding a little goofy. As we went around the 2 big tables, each of us taking his or her turn to say nothing too surprising, Jonathon, a volunteer in our group, asked that we skip him so that he could speak last. So, we continued down the table with people saying how they wouldn’t miss the crowded buses or rice and beans but how they would definitely miss the slow pace of life and great friends. But honestly, I didn’t hear much of what anyone said after Jonathon asked to be skipped. I couldn’t figure this guy out from day-1 and my brain was now focused on trying to think of what he was going to say when his turn came. All through training Jonathon always seemed to be in a bad mood and he was always complaining about something or other. The first time I saw him after training was at a party at the home of some South African guys that a Peace Corps volunteer met. The house had a built-in swimming pool and Tiki bar in the backyard. The beer was ice cold, the music great and the food was delicious. Everyone swam and drank and danced all night. I’ve been to a lot of parties in my life and this was definitely a good one, especially since most of us there were supposed to be living the tough Peace Corps life. Just before dawn I left the party to head home and Jonathon joined me on the walk to the bus stand. It was down a long stretch of deserted highway and we didn’t say much as we walked in the semi-darkness. But then, just before we got on our separate buses, he asked, “What did you think of the party?” I said something like, “I had a blast, How ‘bout you?”, and he replied, “I didn’t think it was very fun” and he walked away looking like a kid who just lost his favorite yoyo. What was this guy’s problem? He definitely needed some sort of counseling.
Boy: So doctor, how is my friend? We bought him a new yoyo but he still isn’t happy.
Doctor: Well son, I’m afraid that your friend has a chronic case of IHGT.
Boy: Golly, what’s that and will he get better soon?
Doctor: Well young man, IHGT is an Inability to Have a Good Time and in Jonathon’s case I doubt there’s anything we can do.
Boy: Gee Whiz!
Sorry, I have digressed. Anyway, I was sure that the only reason Jonathon was one of the remaining 25 in our group was that Tanzania provided him with lots of things to complain about. And now I was almost positive that his final words would be something like, “I’m just gonna be honest and say I won’t miss a damn thing about this place.”
“Well Jonathon, you wanted to be last . . . everyone else has spoken”.
Jonathon stands up.
There is a long pause.
The earth rotates at 15 degrees per hour about its axis and near the equator in Tanzania, sitting at our 2 big tables, we moved some 3 miles while Jonathon stood there, silent.
Jonathon looks at all of us.
Jonathon speaks.
“You guys all talked about the things you’ll miss and won’t miss. I’m gonna miss EVERYTHING! I’ll miss the crowded buses, little kids yelling Mzungu (white man), and all the things you think we won’t miss, even rice and beans. And I think you guys will miss it all too, after we’ve all been home for a while. I’m really gonna miss everything.”
Jonathon sits down.
I don’t know how this sudden change in Jonathon came about but it definitely woke me up and made me think. I thought he deserved a standing ovation but his little speech got the same weak round of applause that the rest of us got. A short while later we each went up to the front of the room to get a certificate for completion of service from Christine and, since this is the Peace Corps, a big hug to go with it.
The next day as I rode home on a crowded bus going over 100 mph with an aching head from too many farewell beers, I couldn’t get Jonathon’s words out of my mind. He was right, I knew he was, and I was determined from that moment on to really enjoy my last months in Tanzania, enjoy all the things that I would miss later. And that’s what I’ve been doing ever since. If you’ve been reading my stories as I write them, you know that I was starting to get a little “burnt out” last school term. Looking back at it now I think that was because, after more than a year, I saw so few real changes and was subconsciously questioning if my time here had really done any good. But now, with my wake-up call and new attitude, I’m really enjoying every day. All the little things that had been annoying me before, I can look at now and smile. I have to smile because . . . I’m gonna miss everything. Even when I have my lunch and dinner I can eat with a smile knowing that if by some strange circumstances in the future I am required to eat rice and beans again, that at least it will remind me of my time spent in Africa.
My good mood has made my teaching better, too. I find myself joking with the students more and in turn many of them are much more willing to come see me for extra help. Sort of along those lines, maybe some of you remember a story I wrote last year about a boy, Faustine, who scored 100% on one of my tests. After that I had high hopes for Faustine. He continued to do well but he’s been inconsistent. One test he gets an “A” or “B” and the next a “C”, and he hadn’t gotten a 100 again since that test last year . . . until just last week. It didn’t surprise me that he scored a 100 again, although just like the first time, on this test he was the only one in his class to do so. I had finished grading the tests on a Sunday morning and later in the day went out for a walk. I still enjoy my afternoon walks up in the hills, looking down on my school with the river winding by it and the spectacular mountains off in the distance. Even after two years I still come across beautiful species of birds that I haven’t seen before. This week I saw one that had an amazing metallic light blue color. As I was returning from my walk and coming up the school driveway, Faustine was coming the same way. He kind of jogged up to walk along side me and with a big smile said, “Good afternoon sir”. I knew right away that he wanted to know if I had graded the tests so I just told him, “Hey, you did great on your math test . . .You got a hundred”. “Ah, but the test was so easy”, he joked as we continued on toward the school until I had to turn off toward my house. As I was saying goodbye I realized how much this kid had changed in a year and a half, from a shy almost scared boy who could speak just a few words of English, to a confident, happy young man who could now converse and even joke in English. Then, for no reason in particular, I said, “Hey, remember last year when you first scored a hundred on one of my tests?” “Yeah, I remember,” he said, and we both just stood there smiling. Then, smiling bigger, remembering a really good day in his life, he said again, “Yeah, I remember,” and then, “ OK sir, see you later,” and off he went to catch up with his friends. I thought to myself that maybe there have been some positive changes that I’ve been a part of since I arrived here and possibly some that I won’t be aware of until after I go home. Home . . . . . . . a word that has had vague meaning in my somewhat nomadic life. For now my home is here in the mountains of Tanzania, in the house where I sit right now at around midnight, writing these words by candlelight. There’s only the sound of the river and the crickets that very soon will lull me to sleep. I’ll go to sleep and maybe I’ll dream about the other home I’ll soon be returning to. Christmas trees, snow covered lawns and warm fireplaces, meals that are really feasts, family and friends. That home doesn’t sound so bad either.
