No need for an alarm clock, I wake up to the mosque’s call to prayer “Allah, Hayalahhh” followed by dogs howling, followed by a rooster crowing. It’s 5:00AM - Welcome to Arusha, Tanzania.
Arusha is gritty and defiant and she doesn’t give a damn if you catch her picking her nose. That’s right, sister. The town pulses with a sort of primal sass. And no matter how much you try to act like a local, you cannot and will not fit in, regardless of color. I hear 'Jambo Muzungu' alot, which basically means 'Hey Whitey'. I sense annoyance of my presence at times. I get marriage proposals. The kids like to touch my hair.
I live in a house with two other volunteers. There are cement walls around the compound, two guards, a cook and a driver. In many ways it's fantastic but it feels strange to live this way, there are people living in tiny one-room homes just meters away. I carry a large packet of guilt in my pocket.
My volunteer placement is at a preschool with kids. Some are HIV positive, some not but all are angels/demons. One second they are running to you, arms outstretched, in search of a hug. And the next they are biting each other. The school is a room in a tiny home made of concrete. I teach in my bare feet. It's humbling. My favorite time is when they take their porridge break, the cups look so big in their little hands.
A few afternoons a week I volunteer at Cradle of Love, an orphanage for babies. For two hours you can play and care for up to 35 orphaned babies. And have your heart broken and filled, broken and filled over and over again. The warmth that these tiny souls give - it burns a happy little hole into your heart.
So, yes, a part of me thought that I'd make a difference. And maybe I did for an afternoon for one child for one moment. But I did learn that we should give a little something back - in someway, anyway. Volunteer for a day, donate to a cause, sponsor a kid, smile at a stranger. Pull at someone else's heartstrings and yours will be pulled back.
