“What do you do when you fall in love with a place an ocean away, and every fiber within you is telling you to stay? What do you do when you learn to love the people in that place? When they stop being stranger's faces and start having names? What do you do when you then have to look them in the eye and tell them that you have to leave and this moment is goodbye?"
When I wrote this I was sitting in my room in Kitwe, Zambia. Tonight I’m sitting in my room in Kitchener, Canada, still asking myself those same questions. I don’t know how to handle falling in love with a destination 12,480 km away, which makes it really hard for me to understand all the feelings that come along with that. As I continue to process my time in Africa, I have been going back to the journal entries I wrote while there . Today I have decided to share some excerpts from those entries with you, because they open a window to my experiences, thoughts, and emotions in a unique and raw way. So, without further due, my journal: (05.25.17) This morning I woke up at 5:40 after a restlessness night, showered, hugged my beloved Mom and sisters goodbye for the next 7.5 weeks, and headed to the airport with Dad. As we approached knots formed in my stomach and anxiety began to rise, because this is it: this is the day I have been praying for, waiting for, and saving for, for so very long. Before I knew it I was boarding, and the engines were roaring for take off. So I clutched the green pillow I had been given by the flight attendant, and held my breath as the wheels left the ground. (05.29.2017) At 7am sharp Dennis picked me up to take me to school for the first time. When I arrived the kids were standing in assembly practicing a song to sing to me as a welcome. As I stood there with my instant coffee I almost didn’t have words. I feel so humbled that God let me come here, and that people along the way cared enough to help make this dream a reality. (06.2.2017) 7 days ago I stood outside Ndola airport wondering what the heck I had gotten myself into, but here I am 7 days later still alive and well. In this weird way I feel like this is a second home that I am revisiting. This is just like what happened in Brazil: a strange culture suddenly becomes familiar, an unfamiliar family suddenly becomes like my own family, and a distant land suddenly holds my heart and changes me forever. This is what is happening with each bumpy drive, each exchanged smile, and each hand reaching for mine. A new home, right here in Kitwe Zambia, 7,755 miles away from everything that has ever been familiar. (06.15.2017) Today was a good day, even though it went nothing like I expected. I woke up half an hour late because my newly fixed iPhone (yay!!) was reset to Kitchener time, and I didn’t think about that when I set my alarm last night. I got to school in good time, only to find out from Grade 6 that today doesn’t work for them to take pictures. With not much to do, I found myself out on the field with Stacey where she was directing football (soccer). She told me that I should help out the girls team so I ran to the office, changed into pants, and before I knew it I was a forward on the girls team running in my trusty Target sandals. We didn’t win, and after half time I thought I was going to collapse, but in the end I am so glad that I got dirty and made some memories. (06.30--07.1.2017) I never want to forget my first real glimpse of Victoria Falls or the thunder in my ears as the millions of gallons of water tumbled over the cliff in all its glory. I don’t want to forget running across the bridge and getting absolutely soaked, or the smiles on our faces when we reached the other side. I don’t want to forget hiking down the gorge and the view that we found once down there. Don’t forget sitting on that rock and just taking it all in with awe and wonder. Don’t forget drinking your coffee by the Zambezi River after seeing elephants, zebras, and giraffes. Don’t forget getting strapped into a harness and zip-lining across the gorge from Zambia to Zimbabwe and the excitement of flying across that space. (07.12.2017) My heart is so full yet so sad. I am sad because today the students were mellow and withdrawn because I only have a few days left. They clung to me, they told me they loved me and would miss me. Then Mapalo asked me, “Ashley, why is it that the people we love must leave us?” And that killed me, because she has given me her heart, I have accepted it, and now I’m leaving indefinitely. She trusts me, and now I am falling off the face of the earth. For all she knows I will never come back again. How do I answer her? (07.14.2017) Goodbye hurts, but I am glad that it does. Like I told some teachers earlier, I would rather build real relationships and hurt more, than be content with surface level interactions to protect myself. I’m blessed by this pain, because with every heartache I’m reminded of how thankful I am that I have so many people to love and be loved by. (07.15.2017) It’s over. The goodbyes were said, the baggage was checked, and flight 871 to Addis Ababa left with me on it. It was hard to leave. As we approached the airport my stomach tightened and dread filled me. I hated hugging my newfound family goodbye, and as we embraced tears slipped down my cheek. So now this chapter has come to a close. I don’t know when I will come back but I will love you forever Africa, thank you for treating me better than I deserve and for changing me more than I now know. There truly is freedom in surrender.
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