GIVE: “Everything is Peripheral to this Moment”
Written by: Sam Abramovich
9/28/2014
I am writing this from inside my empty bathtub, staring at my toilet, wishing it were a hole in the ground. That’s what GIVE trips do; they make you wish you were peeing in a hole, showering in salt water, and eating copious amounts of rice.
Like many other volunteers before me, I tried to prepare as best as I could for my trip. So, before I left for my GIVE excursion to Tanzania, I did a lot of stalking. I stalked GIVE’s website, the blog, past volunteers, Chris and Allira’s wedding on Facebook, #givevolunteers on Instagram, and to be honest, probably even everyone on my trip’s siblings’ girlfriend’s cousins. If you haven’t done any of the above things, I highly suggest any and all of them (especially the wedding because of the rain boots). As a result of this excitement-fueled one-month stalking session, I thought that I was pretty prepared for the experiences that I would encounter during my time in Africa.
I was wrong. My expectations were shattered, stuffed into a recycled plastic bottle and used to build the monumental happy face that was my GIVE trip.
For me, the trip came in three stages:
Stage 1: What did I get myself into????
Stage 2: Ohhhh mama, color-coding, and joy running rampant.
Stage 3: Devastation, reverse culture shock and the return to stalking.
Stage one begins the moment you realize bravery is fleeting.
For me, this was the day I left for the trip. I woke up on my first travel day to a two-hour flight delay. Goodbye bravery, hello stage one. Stage one is when the decision to reroute flights results in a very refreshing sprint through the Atlanta airport, a minor asthma attack and a sweaty first encounter with GIVE volunteers. Stage one is my missing bag, a marathon bus ride, and a very interesting boxed lunch. Stage one is kicking you out of your comfort zone; stage one is landing on your butt. I will admit, for a second, I questioned everything.
Then stage two took hold.
Stage two is that first delicious breakfast potato and watching your student’s light up and say ‘oh mama’ when you pull out the worksheets you made during lesson planning. Stage two is swimming with wild dolphins and preventing poaching by doing so. Stage two is learning what it feels like to wake up with purpose, living with no mirrors, and wearing the same pair of Africa pants all day long and then to bed. Stage two is “Simon Says shake your booty,” learning that in the UK the dance is called the ‘Hokey Cokey,’ and laughing until you can’t breathe when a student thinks your name is “you pick.”
Stage two is color-coding every workbook, making bottle flowers with Mara, and learning that Simba actually means lion. Stage two is fighting over the last can of pringles. Stage two is burgers when it’s the Fourth of July, and rice when it’s not. Stage two is falling into new friendships, walks during high tide and exploring tide pools. Stage two is cuddling Mchele the cat after she pees in Thomas’ bed, eating gummy vitamins with Kelsey and asking Chris and Allira to adopt you on a daily basis. Stage two is the sound of the shutter release and bouncing through the wild in the safari truck of your dreams. Stage two is watching dedication unfold in the form of someone tutoring before breakfast and watching the sun climb its’ way into the sky every morning. Stage two is adventure.
Stage two is wondering if fate brought you here to meet these
exact people at this exact time.
Stage two is GIVE, living in the moment, and being
given as much as you are giving.
Stage two is recognizing that everything else is
peripheral to this moment.
Stage three is leaving, and reverse culture shock, and stalking the next group and wishing you were them.
Stage three is saying goodbye to your local family and sending your friends off to climb to Africa’s roof. Stage three is sobbing while Mara forces you to take a picture with her. Stage three is sitting in your empty bathtub and wishing your toilet was a hole in the ground. For me, stage three has not ended. Anyone who was on my trip will laugh and tell you that for me stage three started when we left Zanzibar. After which, I proceeded to burst into tears when anyone even spoke of leaving. Stage three is realizing that anything that happened in stage one stopped mattering as soon as you taught your first lesson or laid your first bottle brick. We need stage three, because it puts into focus the legendary, rad, and beautiful ride that was stage two.
GIVE taught me what it means to be alive and what it feels like to be present and purposeful in every action I take. My time on Zanzibar reminded me to question everything, leave a larger handprint than footprint and to cling to happiness. Maybe most importantly, GIVE taught me how to give.
