Wherever You Go, There You Are

Since my arrival, I’ve received many emails from family and friends at home, asking me to describe what exactly it feels like to find myself so far away from home, separated from everything I find safe and familiar. I always find it hard to adequately describe the feeling of venturing to Africa by myself. Many people have called me brave, but no, I am the biggest coward of them all. And this is why I came… to stretch myself and make myself uncomfortable. As for the feelings I experience in being here, it is a strange mix of emotions that I can’t quite wrap my head around. Travelling and finding yourself alone somewhere completely alters your sense of self. Some days I feel like I am having a massive identity crisis. It’s hard to put to words but, it’s almost as though being in Africa doesn’t make me the same Jacqueline that you would all remember from Canada. Because being the same Jacqueline only makes sense in Canada. I cannot be the same person, and live in Africa… it feels like the two do not match up. Not yet. Here, in Malawi, I am so physically separated from self-identifiers like my family, friends, education, hobbies and accomplishments. It’s almost like these things never existed. No one here knows about any of these things, unless they have gotten to know me and taken the time to ask.

Now, please don’t think I’ve gone off my rocker here and had some massive personality-altering experience, this is not the case. I’m just trying to explain (in probably a really backwards way), that it is almost impossible to connect my life back home with what I’m going through here.

I am currently reading a book titled “Beyond the Sky and the Earth: a Journey into Bhutan”. It is written by Jamie Zeppa, a fellow WUSC volunteer (albeit 20 years ago), who decided to venture out of Toronto and teach for two years in an extremely remote part of eastern Bhutan. I see so much of my own experience in her writings, and it’s been a pleasure to read so far. At one point, she describes a feeling she had while out for dinner with fellow volunteers, shortly after arriving in Bhutan. This particular paragraph struck me because just the night before reading it, I had an identical train of thought while out for Indian food with my friends. Her writing puts my exact experience to words better than I ever could, and I hope it might clarify my above thoughts.

“… We order more beer. And I think, sometimes it all makes sense: you are sitting in a restaurant with your companions. It could be a restaurant anywhere, it could be [Toronto]. Other times it makes no sense whatsoever. I don’t know how this relates to the rest of my life. There is no link between my life on the other side of the planet, all those dark miles and starry oceans away, and me sitting at this table, tearing my beer label off in strips, no connection at all. Except for myself: I myself must bridge the gap, I am the bridge- although I feel more like the gap. All the experiences and achievements that defined me at home are irrelevant and insignificant here. There is just me, here, now. Wherever you go, there you are.”

Love to all,
Jacqueline