The Long Goodbye

The last few days have been a mere formality - waiting for my plane to arrive. Nathan was able to change his flight so that he would go home a day before me and so last night was our final night together here in Africa. It was a lucky break for Nathan because he feels (and looks) terribly sick. But that didn't stop him from going out for a final drink or two at the nearest pub.

It was our final salute to this continent and a surprisingly good time. We planned on having just one but one turned into four or five. Who's really counting? Nathan's Bowels (get it?) held up well enough for him to brave a few beers and we smoked a cigar, something we had been planning to do for the last 10 weeks. It was a nice moment that was a fitting farewell to a very good trip to Africa. Nathan and I reminisced over cheep beer while listening to Tupac's California Luv get mixed with Backstreet Boys in what was probably the worst DJ'ing performance I have ever witnessed. Pair that with the big screen TV's showing 12 year old womens Karate compeition and... well... welcome to Africa. I really don't get the entertainment industry out here. I really think that there is a market here waiting to get exploited by some creative minds. Topsy, if you are reading this, get started.

While Nathan grabbed his bags I hailed him a cab and soon enough he was off. Our journey together was over.

I had a bit of energy so I decided to go out for a bit and just relax with my thoughts. I found a club that was playing some good American Rock N Roll and posted up for about 45 minutes.

SHORT RANT: It is an "African-American" thing to like Hip Hop. In Africa, the most common music is reggae, followed closely by Pop, Rock, and even a bit of country... seriously. Last night at the club the locals were going absolutely crazy for Linkin Park, Chili Peppers, and other Rock bands. I mean, jumping up and down, as if they were at a concert.

I mysteriously got very tired and decided to just go home and fall asleep. While walking home, I finished the cigar that Nathan and I had split and wouldn't you know it, smoking in public is a crime. Eager to tell me this were 3 "police" who quickly cornered me. It was like I was in my little bubble in my mind, walking not noticing anything, then suddenly I am cornered against a wall.

"Did you know smoking in Public is illegal in Nairobi? Come with us, you are going to jail."

I have been in Africa for too long to fall for this charade. All these jokers wanted was a small bribe which, given that I was 24 hours from my flight, I was happy to give. I knew that I had a 1000 bill a 500 bill and about 6 or 7 100 bills in my pocket. The odds were in my favor that if I just reached in my pocket, I would grab a 100 and this would all be over. So I reached in and tried to grab the 100. Of course, as luck would have it, I pulled the 1000. But I refused to give it to them. I was pulling a bit of a tough guy with them although I probably should have just run away. I tried a second time and of course, I pulled out the 500. What are the odds? I had all those 100's and of course I pull out the only big bills.

They smiled, laughed even, and took off with their 500. Back to serve and protect the streets of Nai-robbery. For the record, I was never robbed in Africa by anyone other than a police officer. This was the 3rd time that I was robbed by a cop. God bless Africa.

While at the bar I had this feeling and the correlating thought: I am 8,000 miles from everyone that I know. No one in this country, on this continent, in this hemisphere, knows my name or who I am. I am completely alone. It was a pretty interesting feeling, one that I am glad to have experienced, especially since it has only lasted for less than a day.

Today I tried to occupy my time by going to a library to read HEART OF DARKNESS but THE library in Nairobi was very old. I asked reception where I could find Joseph Conrad and she gave me a blank look. Then I asked for fiction books and she said, "oh, fiction is the 3 shelves over there." Really? The 3 shelves? 3 shelves of fiction?!? I ended up finding a few short stories by Kafka that only occupied me for about 2 hours. The rest of the day will be spent online and possibly watching... God forgive me... NEXT starring Nicolas Cage.

I am not sure whether I will write a reflective blog once I am back in the states, but there is one thing that I would like to mention. One little rant that will require you to stick with me.

While finding ways to waste time the last 4 days I have been re-reading my blogs from May and June. Especially with the early ones in Cape Town, I couldn't believe what I was reading. I was so ignorant to life here in Africa. In one blog I refer to Zulu dancers that sang in Afrikaans. It is sad because they were not Zulu's they were Xhosa's and they were singing in Xhosa. How little I knew about life here. My first few blogs were filled with misinformation and errors on my part. Harmless? Probably, but still a reflection of how little I knew. But to my credit, these things must be learned through experience. And the last 10 weeks have provided countless lessons on life in Africa, the people, and the problems.

But like most things in life, the more you learn, the more you realize that you know very little. And the more you look for answers the more questions seem to come to the surface. Each year millions upon millions of dollars are poured into Africa in aid and relief. NGO's occupy every corner of the countries that I have visited. People filled with the grandest intentions arrive willing to help a continent that is in need of a helping hand. Honorable people, often very courageous, hard working, selfless and inspired.

Now, I am too simple a mind to offer anything of significance. And I certainly don't wish to take anything away from the people that sacrifice their comforts for a far and fleeting goal. But one of the most troubling things that I take away from this experience is the seeming futility of such efforts that are so common here in Africa. Before I sound like a nihilist, what I mean is that I hoped to come to Africa and find some small answer, some small inspiration about how to help this continent. But the trek has only opened my eyes to all sorts of new questions.

It only serves to reaffirm my belief that I can only focus on the personal. I have met many people on this trip that will stay with me forever. Some, I hope, will remain in close contact for a long time to come. It is in these relationships that I find some sense of purpose. I am pretty confident that I can help many of my new friends with their personal ambitions, advise them about their current problems, and prepare them for their upcoming challenges. But I am also pretty certain that it can only be done on a personal level. Not from any religious dogma or political propoganda, but from the personal friendships that I have been able to establish.

And I am done. I still have about 6 hours before I need to find a taxi for the airport, and from there another 24 hours of "airtime" before I am home. But this is the conclusion of my 5,000 miles in Africa. Thank you to my readers. If you want to do a very cool thing, send me a comment on this blog letting me know that you have been following the posts. It would be neat to see who has actually kept up with them. I promise that when I arrive in the states, and Nathan sends me my copy of the photos, you will be treated to some amazing photos. Seriously, you will want to check back in about 2 weeks.

Reflection

The last several posts have been very sloppy and not at all the way that I wanted this blog to go. I apologize but in my defense, internet is very slow, expensive and difficult to find. On top of that, I must find time out of a very busy travel schedule to write down thoughts, or in most cases, events that have occured on the trip. But now that I have a bit of time and a fast and cheap internet connection, I want to offer a bit of reflection.

Last night I couldn't sleep because of this knot in my stomache. I am not sure if it was because of homesickness, or missing Sheila, but my mind was racing at a rigorous speed, too fast to let me fall asleep. From the start, I wanted this trip to change me, to ignite some sort of motivation or call to action that would give me the drive to acheive something great. Both in screenwriting and more importantly, to somehow improve the lives of the people of Africa.

Going through 7 countries in 7 weeks is not the most efficient way to learn about the challenges and histories of these countries. Nonetheless, I feel that I have gained a lot. Most of my thoughts have been very discouraging. In the last 7 weeks we have run into countless people that have explained to us the hardships of their daily lives. Mind you that many of these people are very happy, very grateful and I don't want to make it seem like I pity them in any way. But there are so many stories of injustices and hardships, racism and poverty, disease and sickness.

The light that I hoped would be ignited in me, has thus far, just been a knot in my stomache. The problems are so big, they go back hundreds of years, and there is so much ambiguity surrounding what can and should be done. Spurring these mixed feeling and adding to the confusion is the biography on Che that I have been reading on this trip. Che was so motivated to begin revolution in the 3rd world countries. He sacrificed his life for the people of the Congo but ultimately was useless to them. In a way, I wish that I had this conviction, as Che did, to fight for something that I believed in. But I do not.

Last night a 31 year old man named Josefat escorted us from the bus dropoff to our hostel. For no reason at all he walked about 1 k out of his way to make sure that we were safe. He explained that life in Tanzania is very difficult. When asked if life is good he says "50-50." His tone tells you that he is being generous in that estimation. He has no job. His wife and kid have left him because he cannot support them. It reminds me of Donovan, the Tanzanian that we met in South Africa who left his home "in search of a better life," clinging to a porous suit jacket and a small bag.

With everything that I have I wanted to be able to offer Josefat some sort of advice. I wanted to give him something that would help him in some small way. I wish that I had some sort of answer about how he could take control of his life. But I have nothing to offer. No insight. No advice. Most of the walk home is done in silence. It is a very uncomfortable feeling. Josefat has an education, speaks english, but there are so few jobs and such a poor economy.

In between the great adventures, laughs, beers, pictures, and good times, there is this constant nagging feeling, this knot in my stomache that has not yet manifested itself yet as a real motivation or conviction. NGO's in Africa are often corrupt or strongly go against my values and beliefs, and in the end, usually don't do anything positive. Education programms teach a very "western" curriculum, missionaries spread the gospel, choking the people of their own heritage, and money pumped in only builds a dependancy on foreign aid.

An English man explains to me how the NGO he works for built an internet cafe to help "introduce" the Tanzanian people to the web but the price is so high that only the white NGO workers are able to use it. Thousands of dollars went into buying computers and building this cafe and it is used by foreigners only.

The best that I can say for myself is that this trip has made me grow up a lot. I have become very motivated to educate myself, to prepare myself for the situations that I will come across in the future. I feel very unprepared for this trip. I want to be able to offer Josefat some small token of advice. One thing that I have found to be true is that culture plays such a huge role in the way a society views the world. Out here, religion and witchcraft help shape some rather strange views on how the world works, a history of corruption and poverty have demolished the people's hope for any sort of progress. People live day to day because it is all that they know.

Example: Another NGO worker tells me the story of how the NGO gave a group of rural Tanzanians some seeds for planting hoping to help start them on a course of profitable farming but instead the Tanzanians just ate the seeds.

In America, consumerism drives the people. One of the best things about being out here, thousands of kilometers from the US is that I can clear my head of all of the distractions. The idiot box, the advertisments, the pop culture, the traffic, all of those things, those cultural demons that distort your mindframe and distract you from self reflextion. I have gained the focus to improve myself and the motivation to at least prepare myself for the future. So that when this knot in my stomache grows, I will be able to act. Not with the sloppyness of these well wishers and corrupt NGO's that offer good intentions at best, but with a real, useful, meaningful effort.