One Month since

It has been one month since I flew out from Nairobi- one month to the date. I haven't written since, but I feel prodded this morning. I've got a slight cold and just want to sit and read and write.

Returning, wading through the days of nebulous "where am I's?", wondering what is next, vacillating between wanting to engage old friends and my career here in New York and being terrified of letting that life become normal again, hanging on to the village and my friends there because fondness and romanticism are first cousins of absence, perceiving the world daily in a different way than I did 3 months ago, a year ago, or ten years ago, and knowing that my view ten years from now will be just as transformed.... And even though these gerund thoughts are not all the result of my 10 weeks in Kimana (my mind has been shifting in spurts for years), the trip has been a catalyst for some sort of redirection. God alone knows the bearing.

This post cross cultural experience I am having is in no way unique. Anyone who has immersed himself in another land, wanders back in a daze of questions. I know that. And maybe in some way it is why I went. I am certainly a sucker for intense situations, because they foster thought, gear shifts, a new way of seeing. I like being shaken up. But a month on the return side, I am still gathering myself, bit by bit, putting the parts back in place to see where I am now that the dust is settling, though my bags and shoes are literally still covered in it.

I feel a bit tossed about, tugged at and torn, not in a sad or even conflicted way, but in the sense that my mind and heart have been expanded to make room for another community in a place far away. I think about them, dream about them, worry about them, and generally miss them. So I am tugged at by a longing to hang out with these new friends, torn because I know I have to reengage here, and tossed about because life here is different now in some ways.

My activity this last month has mirrored these feelings. I have yet to watch TV, see a movie, or a play. I have not said hi to everyone I should be saying hello to. Instead, I have retreated mostly to friends, both here and on the phone, who have also worked in Africa and know the story without being told. I have spent hours, lots of hours, editing footage to create a short film following the day of one Oloile student named Damaris. And even though it is imperfect, less than great even, I have loved the creative outlet and the story it tells. I have been on the phone weekly with the school to take its pulse and monitor its well being, and have been raising money to stock a library. So my actions are still pointed toward East Africa. But I am also teaching a neat course at a school in East Harlem, planning for a summer class in North Carolina, tutoring some students for the SAT's this weekend, and thinking about projects to audition for. So I am looking both ways. And mostly looking for vehicles to connect both continents in my vocation.