To Africa

I never wanted to go.  I thought it was nice that other people went, but I didn't want to take a bath in a barrel of cold water, walk barefoot down a dirt road, participate in a questionably quasi development project, or come out prizing a picture of myself in the center of a swarm of cute little black kids -- and that is what I thought of when I thought of going to Africa.

But no one asked what I thought.

And so I went to Kenya, as the go-between for a group of Koreans.

Each year, the Provincial Office of Education sends a team for two weeks to conduct ICT training, helping Kenyan teachers learn how to use computers in education.  My duties included assisting with the training and aiding with translation.  I didn't have a lot of energy to exert during the computer course, but my stomach started to settle just in time to translate for our department's director, who arrived midway through the trip.

It is a funny feeling sitting between a Kenyan and a Korean.  The Kenyan was late.  The Korean was early.  The Kenyan sat slouched to one side.  The Korean sat straight.  The Kenyan's eyes black.  The Korean's a dark shade of brown behind glasses.

One spoke.

The other looked lost.

The one who had spoken looked at me, as though he was waiting for me to convert the other's expression into something more agreeable than lost.

The lost one looked at me, too.  He was furiously searching my face for a clue as to what had been said so that he could quickly react in the most appropriate accord.

With both the Korean and the Kenyan looking at me in anticipation, I felt a bit funny.  I had to speak, but what I would have to say was what another had presently said and I would have to say it in such a way that the one who was lost would react agreeably, not only relieving himself of the fury of not knowing, but also satisfying the expectation of the one who had spoken and now sat waiting.

Only after understanding had occurred would the one who had spoken and the one whose role it was to react intentionally redirect their gazes away from me and toward each other to celebrate for a second their successful yet complicated communication.

The Korean cited several statistics, such as the number of teachers trained to date and stated that education is essential to a country's development.  The Kenyan agreed on the importance of education, expressed gratitude to the Korean and spoke of his hope for the program to continue ceaselessly.  The parties exchanged gifts and the meeting came to a close.

All that the Korean and the Kenyan understood had been said by me and yet I had not said a thing for myself.

Funny.

After all official duties had been dealt with, the Korean cohort, myself included, took off on a two-night trip to Masai Mara National Reserve.  Riding in an open-topped Land Cruiser, a local guide helped us spot wildlife on the savannah.

The land far and flat like ocean.  The sky boundless above.  Animals grazing alone, lying in patches, moving in massive groups.  When the sun set, everything appeared as gold.

The peculiar position of sitting between strikingly contrastive cultures.  The near transcendence of time and space while riding around the plain.

Perhaps it was wise that no one had asked what I thought of going to Africa.  

Now what I wonder is whether I will go again.

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Thanks for reading :)