The Debrief

I never did a ‘final’ post from Kenya/the summer, and I think that largely had to do with the simple fact I had no idea how to summarize in words what I was walking away with three and a half months after I began. As I settle back into the grind at Chapel Hill, it all now seems so surreal- like, I did that. The remnants of habits and experiences haven’t quite shaken off- after a month and a half sleeping on a mattress pad on a roof in the Old City of Jerusalem, I’ve decided I really like sleeping on the floor, so I don’t have a bed frame. Culturally, I’m finding myself having to re-adjust to the concept of private space- I have to consciously think about whether the person I’m interacting with would be okay with small physical gestures and touches (and in turn, how they interpret that…), which had become so surprisingly instinctual in Kenya. Culture shock from Kenya to New York was defined by complete awe at how sterile everything was, along with all the stunningly bright lights.

My ride to Kenyatta airport in Nairobi was a perfect tie-up to the 6 ½ weeks- the interstate traffic was at a standstill, with all the cars inching forward extremely slowly. Salim, my boss, was buying packs and packs of nuts that girls were walking around selling, which he would then give them back to them to eat and a promise they would go home and study. Then, the cars had the brilliant idea that since the other side of the interstate was relatively empty, they would cross the median and drive on the wrong side of the road. Naturally, when we got to this side of the road, we eventually met up with cars going in the other direction (which I’m sure, since they were actually on the right side of the road, they weren’t too happy at this blatant disregard for the few road rules Kenya has), and traffic was at a dead stop on this side, as well. I was dying with laughter at just how ridiculous this all was- goodbye, Africa.


It also took a few meals to re-adjust to processed foods. I find it funny I don’t get sick going to these countries, but give me a Subway sandwich and I’m wrenching. I’m still craving ugali, although I had some homemade kunafe and falafel the other night, which totally made my week.


I’ve had a few people ask me what was the most important ‘lesson’ or personal growth experience I had over the summer (not gonna lie, I dread this conversation now). At first, I kept thinking it was just being exposed to so many different elements of cultural understanding, which in itself changes and molds how we subconsciously digest and breakdown our surroundings. Then, I thought it was the work experience I gained, being able to hire researchers and really delve into understanding a community that had so recently been divided and devastated by ethnic divisions and politics. As I delve into 'just war' theory and articles examining the 'escalation of militarized disputes', I realize how much this stuff can’t be learned in a classroom-and how much it has reshaped my classroom experience. Then, maybe, I thought it was being exposed to a situation in Israel where every roadblock possible was thrown in my path, keeping me from seeing my project turn out they way I wanted to. Being in a university setting, opportunities are practically served to you on a silver platter, and it can be almost a little too easy. Being forced into that real world element where no, no matter what, not everything is going to go your way, was a critical experience to have now. I’ve never tried so hard and failed so miserably. I learned from that, though, that some things turn out much more amazing because you go through that process. I had some of the most emotionally devastating moral challenges I’ve ever had-and now, I know how to handle that personally when I do face it again in the future.


Next, it occurred to me that it could just be every thing I saw- whether on a daily basis walking through Damascus Gate, watching a community struggle with identity and societal acceptance while battling inner cultural demons, seeing what hate can produce in Hebron, the culture that can thrive despite the challenges in Nablus, the difficulty of survival in one of the worlds largest slums, how passion for a sport can change your world, the untouched magnificence of a national park in Kenya, the unexpected beauty in how humanity can adapt, and the list goes on and on. Or maybe it’s the new self-awareness I have- I don’t second-guess myself or my actions quite as much- its this injection of confidence, increased trust in myself to follow my instincts, while at the same time understanding that it is a greater risk, and sometimes I’m going to fall on my ass, and it will be okay: there is beauty in the breakdown. And, of course, at the top of the list, are the relationships. Those I will cherish for a lifetime, not only because each one was what made everything else above happen, but they, with their infinite wisdom and different perspectives on life, reminded me of the importance of investing in the old ones. The people that surround you, in the end, are all that matter. People like Salim, Lucy, Doha, my sisters, my friends both near and far, are a constant reminder of that.


I feel a sense of completion as I finish up this post, which brings on a twinge of sadness. I have no idea where I’ll be in a year- which is exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. While I used to be so sure, I don’t know what I want out of life anymore- I’m actually really excited by that, and I'm going with the mantra that expectations are only limitations.


I do thank you all for being patient for my ramblings and sentimental nonsense.

Much Love,

TJ