Reunion

4 years ago I came to Tanzania and volunteered in a small town called Bagamoyo. It is about an hour and a half north of where I am living now but is very different than the big city of Dar es Salaam. The population is currently about 30,000 and operates as a fishing village and has many artists and art schools. Historically it was a port for Ivory and Slaves. The meaning of “Bagamoyo” in Swahili is “lay down your heart”. It is debated that this is in reference to the porters that carried cargo from the great lakes region so meaning “take a rest” or that it refers to the fact that the slave trade passed through here and meant “give up all hope”. Regardless, when I researched going to Bagamoyo I went because my heart was lost and I needed a place to rest and restore it and that is exactly what I did there. It was the first place I had been to in Africa and I fell in love with the continent, the country, and most importantly, the people.

While I was there I taught English to to children ages 4 to 7 in the mornings and then in the afternoon I taught at a place called Unity Art Center where my students were all artists, street youths, aged 14 to 21. I went thinking I love little kids and wanted to work with the youngest people possible. At the time the organization didn’t work with orphanages so I was placed in the primary school. The students only attended half days so I needed another placement. Because I am an actor I was placed with the artists. I wasn’t sure about working with that age but it ended up being the best part of the experience. Don’t get me wrong, the littles are cute but holy s*#t they are jerks too. They literally were climbing the walls, not listening to me much of the time, and most of the time could not understand me. I essentially was at a daycare where corporal punishment was in full effect and it was devastating to see. 

See, look at this little jerk messing around while I'm trying to teach.

But what's not to love when they are being this adorable!

On the other hand, the teens, they were committed to learning from me. They showed up each day to sit on the dirt floor of their little artist hut to learn English from me. ME! I’m not a teacher. I didn’t know what I was doing. In the future, if I were ever to do that again, I would visit an elementary school at home and get some lesson plans. But I made do and slowly learned what level they were at in order to figure out what to teach them. We covered basic vocabulary but quickly moved on to sentence structure and interesting things like “if” - “then”. That day was one of the more profound moments where I saw the difference between an Tanzanian street youth’s conditional sentence and what I imagine would be a Canadian’s. 

My students' homework put on the board. Reality Check! (and an ego boost)

I incorporated one day a week that was about cultural exchange where we discussed their lives and life in Bagamoyo and I showed them pictures and did my best to answer any of their questions about Canada. On these days I learned how few of them still had both or even one parent alive, their concerns about HIV and AIDS, the difficulty in getting an education, and how they make enough money to eat. I showed them my “luxurious” apartment which was a little embarrassing by standards back home, I mean, only one bedroom and carpet, GROSS. It was RI-DIC-U-LOUS luxury to them. Really puts things in perspective when you visit a friends house and it is a building with 6 rooms. 6 families, one room each. Up to 6 people per room. In the hall they cook on little charcoal stoves. This is the most common set up. Carpet seems pretty great compared to these conditions. Really, I realized I complained WAY to much and took what I had for granted. I arranged evenings where some of the other volunteers would come with me to a local pub and socialize with my students so they could practice speaking English. You see, many people don’t speak it at all in Tanzania, so if you can’t use it, how do you improve? However, with the ability to speak it you greatly increase your employability in many sectors.


Those teens had a huge impact on me and my outlook and it was because of their keen desire to learn that I realized I hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity I have in Canada to get an education. So I returned to get my degree. Now, at the end of my degree I won this internship and found myself back in the very country that got me to go to school. Full circle. Love it. 

The Boys. My students designated as "street youth" that changed my life. They created the sign above us when I got there, I was the "white" hand model.

 

So on a weekend I returned to Bagamoyo to see the place where I went to lay my heart down in hopes that I would find my old students. The first day I went to the hut where I taught the teens and it was still there, with art hanging but there was no one to be found. It looked ill kept and I felt really really sad. What was I expecting 4 years later? So I went on with the day and enjoyed the village, taking in the sights and streets that I got to know so well years ago. 

No one was around so I had my picture taken next to the old sign. Was wishing for the hub of energy and activity that it was 4 years ago. 

More sadness ensued as one of my favourite artist hang outs was falling apart. Time has not been good to that building. However, then I saw they had raised a structure to take the place of the old building where I found some wonderful artists that knew of me. Wow. I asked them about certain people I taught and they knew many of them. So the next day I returned to Unity Arts Center.

As I was walking up I saw a fella and began repeating, “I know him, I know him”. I felt oddly nervous that he would not remember me. I had this experience on a pedestal for the past 4 years. Would he even know who I was?

A few meters away he looked up and saw me. He yelled my name, hugged me, picked me up and spun me around. BLISS!!! He completely remembered me. This was Hansey. He was the one who spoke English the best and really was my translator when I was teaching those who knew very little. I found 2 others that I taught still there as well. After a series of hugs, high fives, and more spinning me around I spoke to Emanuel. Emanuel was a sweet, soft spoken guy with next to no English when we began. This day: I could converse with him no problem. This was such a proud moment and must be why teachers become teachers. He was dedicated, worked hard, and the difference is astounding. I bought art from all 3 of them because I wanted to support them in some way, uphold what they are doing.

Hansey proceeded to call two other guys that I taught. They actually founded Unity Art Centre. I had been impressed by these two, that they created this place for kids to learn art from each other and English from whoever was around to teach. Hansey took us for a walk to a little street bar to find these two. A similar greeting ensued and I was thrilled they recognized me and that they were so happy to see me. I sat down and had a beer with them (they are all in their 20’s now) and laughed and chatted. Perhaps I caught them on an unusual day but I got the impression they spend a lot of their time drinking (it was the middle of the day and they were well on their way) and I think it is fair to assume based on their friends that drugs may be a part of their lives as well. Selling. Taking. So sad and unfortunate. Now I know what it might feel like to be a parent or a teacher and see so much potential wasted. I was full of excitement and disappointment simultaneously.

I was thrilled that I found some of my guys still around Bagamoyo, others have moved to the city, Zanzibar, and one has become a soldier. I hope they are all happy and healthy. That’s all I want the rest is up to them.

My time there was such a drop in the bucket but these guys remembered me and said such kind words about how I was the beginning of it all. I was the first teacher “mwalimu”. I am absolutely honored to have had the opportunity. 

YAY!!! I found them. They aren't all here but this was a moment of pure joy. Love love love.