Kuuliza si ujinga!

When I started thinking about what I would write to mark one year in Tanzania, I had all these great ideas, a clever title, funny stories, and lessons I learned. So, I began writing….I wrote for almost five pages. And when I came to the end of my train of thought, I realized that all the nitty-gritty details were not interesting to anyone, except maybe my mother (and that’s only because she has to be, it’s a part of her job description).

So I reread what I wrote and tried to narrow it down to one idea that I could easy share and that wouldn’t take an hour to read. Luckily, finding a theme in all my rambling was not too difficult. So here it is: If I have learned anything in my first year, it’s about perfection…..and how unrealistic it is. As I reread that sentence, it seems silly; it seems obvious. No duh. Nobody is perfect. BUT for a perfectionist like me, it is a difficult realization to accept. As I reflect on this past year, I have learned that I can’t always, and I rarely will, get it right the first time.

In every aspect of my life in Tanzania, I have learned that perfection is far from attainable and that no one ever expected me to be perfect, except for myself. I have imagined and dreamed about being an International Jesuit Volunteer for years, I had it all planned out; I knew exactly how it was going to happen….and I was sure it was going to be perfect. But now, my life, the way I view the world, the way I spend my time, the way I interact with people has changed so much. And for the better, I think, as I move farther and farther away from striving for constant perfection. Mistakes are bound to happen…especially when you live in a foreign country with a drastically different culture.

The first time I made chapatti (like a fried tortilla), they were incredibly salty and dry. The first time I tried to take a dala dala (public bus) home from the city by myself, I got on the one with the less direct route, which made my trip an hour longer than it needed to be and dropped me farther from our neighborhood; the first time I tried to use the verb in Swahili for “to understand” (kuelewa), I used the verb for “to be drunk” (kulewa) instead. When I made all those mistakes, I didn’t think I would ever make it here and was too afraid to ask for help for a long time. I didn’t want to look silly or incompetent by asking too many questions. But making mistakes and asking questions is how a person learns; it took me an entire year to be okay with that fact.

Nothing about my life is perfect and I am slowly but surely learning to find the beauty in that. I’m still not a master at washing clothes by hand, I am not very good runner (though I did complete my first half marathon on December 8^th!), I don’t always cook the best tasting food, I’m not the best at communicating with friends and family at home (I’m working on it!), I am not the best teacher, I am not always the most wonderful friend, I am not always pleasant to live in community with; the list goes on…but I am still doing all of those things and trying the best I can at them.

I spent my whole first year here trying to figure out how to operate, how to make this experience go smoothly. I have realized that in order to learn and give this experience my all, I will have to become comfortable with often looking like a fool or asking too many questions. The other day I was studying one of my Swahili books, and came across this proverb: “Kuuliza si ujinga” which means “To ask is not stupidity.” So, that’s what Year Two will be all about… asking questions so that I can learn and do more. I won’t do it perfectly but at least I will have tried.