It is amazing how two months in Sierra Leone can so dramatically change perspectives I have gained from 19 years of living in the United States. The warm late August breeze, the glow of the lights on Lake Street and my down pillow all feel so familiar. Yet in the midst of that familiarly there is a dissonance, like something incredibly subtle has changed in the very essence of these experiences. I can’t yet name this sensation, but it feels a bit like I can’t quite find my balance on what I know should be even ground.
Despite being welcomed home with open arms (quite literally), being back is an isolating experience. I have quickly realized that though my experiences in Sierra Leone have given me great insight into living as a community, in many ways it has also removed me from that community. No amount of explanations or photographs can truly show someone the frustrations or joys of working in the least developed country in the world. While I anticipated this, what I did not expect was the difference of everyday, normal life experiences. I simply want to be able to have a conversation with someone who knows the distance from the big market to Lumley, who understands the value of Le6,500 or who doesn’t immediately put Africa into the stereotype of intolerable poverty or overzealous hope. It quickly becomes frustrating to not be able to tell a simple story without 20 minuets of background, and even then knowing no one understands.
Not only is it hard to share my experience while abroad, it is difficult to relate the experience of my homecoming. I haven’t come home bitter, disgusted and blaming American culture like many do. And so, it is frustrating to see people (many of whom have not had the opportunity to see this poverty first hand) who so quickly assail our culture. Of all the things I learned while working on HIV/AIDS, it was that it is incredibly difficult to change a culture. I’m not saying that I endorse Western culture and I am certainly not saying there aren’t a lot of things about the system that need to be changed. However, what we have is exactly that, a system- and if you remember your intro sociology class, recall that systems resist change. Blatantly attacking our culture will only reinforce what we are trying to transform. There is certainly a need for directed outrage- but only when that outrage is filled with genuine love for both the oppressed and the oppressor and with the understanding that we are all, like it or not, part of the system.
I have come back now with not only my story, but with the stories of my new family, friends and neighbors. Social justice is no longer an abstract concept that is hip to talk about while sipping fair trade coffee on the West Bank; it is the only hope for my friend’s futures. Life gets messy when you go from loving the idea to loving the people. Life also suddenly becomes much more beautiful.
At the moment, I’m not entirely sure where I’m going from here. I have a lot of ideas floating around in my mind, many of which involve access to education, and using that as a tool to build awareness in the family (and, hopefully from there the greater community) about many issues such as HIV/AIDS, gender equality, violence, ways to save money for emergencies, and adult literacy. I know a lot of women who would greatly benefit from a micro loan. Where am I going from here to help my friends in Sierra Leone? What am I doing about HIV/AIDS, drug abuse, and poverty in Minneapolis? Where am I going with my life when I’m done with school? Those are all very good questions that don’t quite have answers yet. I’m still trying to find my balance and work through all of my experiences. The one thing I can say is that life will be very different from here on out, however that may be.
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