Humbling humility before God

Today was a bath day, yes there are days in the week (every other) that's designated bath day because I run out of water if I'm not too careful, which also meant prayer day for myself. Or in other words, I have no excuse not to.
So I walked to mosque and said my prayers. I said a few additional prayers to people I cared about, and then as I prepared to finish, I stopped.
I decided to say a prayer for myself.

I always thought, growing up, to say a prayer for myself, to do things for myself, was a selfish endeavor and I didn't deserve it.

But how selfish is it to admit that I think am beyond help?

I admire those who are independent and never needing counsel for themselves. Self-reliant, they seek to help others. As I continue onto my 12th month here in Kenya, I'm proud of the things I've done for myself here. But I'm also proud of the extraordinary gifts given to me by God or other people.
Including

1. Getting hit by a motorcycle during training and not suffering any serious damage.
2. Meeting people who make the day go by quicker (and then wishing it went the opposite)
3. Having co-workers who make working as a volunteer extremely easy and rewarding.

Every since I first started learning to pray two years ago (and even before that in my own terms), I've prayed for safety and well being of others, but I was always too "humble" to ask for my own salvation, for my own happiness. But that's what it means to submit doesn't it? Putting your trust in God, and perhaps, other people?

It's okay to want things from yourself that isn't just ability. You don't have to be Mother Theresa or Gandhi, but are welcome to pursue the ideals they represent, but do realize that they themselves wanted too. Help others, I wouldn't be in the Peace Corps if some part of me didn't, but also remember that you yourself are someone with the same potential to be loved and saved by another if you're willing to be. Otherwise, all those prayers from others towards you will go deaf if you don't recognize that. Otherwise, by not recognizing that you're worth saving, all the love others feel towards you will go to the dark. It's not a weakness to recognize you're worthy, because if someone else tells you "you're beautiful", they say it upon an act of sincere strength, leaving it on you to have the courage and veracity of self character to bear it.

I'm not a humble person; though often I strove to be, leaving me wondering after every good deed why I felt empty and alone, not realizing that I was lying to myself that I didn't need to feel hope for myself, as long as I did my best to give it to others. I don't ask of myself now to feel good for the deeds that I do, but I ask myself to simply acknowledge that I'm a human being that wants to believe in himself and hope for good things to come to him as well as hope to put into action good acts for others. Beyond set ideologies, I think we tend to feel empty if we don't recognize that our own bodies are as vulnerable and powerful as of those we see and work with everyday. That emptiness links to the fear of never being capable of being loved, which I assure you, distant friends across the seas, especially to those I talk to closely, you certainly are, and so am I. You just have to remember that you have similar needs to those you give your effort towards loving. If they need/desire to be loved, so do you, if they need to be saved, to a certain capacity, so do you,
If they need, if they want, if they are saints, if they are devils, if they are animals, atoms, electrons, billions of God particles in need of billions of other God particles to exchange emotions uncountable and inestimable.
Then so are you.

So friend, I will pray for you, but I will pray for me too, and I hope you too, recognize how worthy you are as well and pray for yourself in your own way.

Rumi

I love Rumi, obviously the English translation is all I can understand
But take a look at this poem


"Be with those who help your being.
Don't sit with indifferent people, whose breath
comes cold out of their mouths.
Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.
A chunk of dirt thrown in the air breaks to pieces.
If you don't try to fly,
and so break yourself apart,
you will be broken open by death,
when it's too late for all you could become.
Leaves get yellow. The tree puts out fresh roots
and makes them green.
Why are you so content with a love that turns you yellow?"

Take a second and think about what that means to yourself.
I won't talk about myself this post, but you can talk to me.
I want you to be happy, in this world where in a crowd of billions somehow you end up just being stranded and lost at sea.

Whether you're 23, 18, 40, 50...80, isn't it important to remember that right it's spring, and there are cherry blossoms that have bloomed and gone, revealing bright green leaves. And when they die, the tree renews again, and when the tree dies, something else will take its place. While you're still alive, bloom.

I disagree that we are all just a collection of stories to be shared; I think there's more to the eye when it comes with just sitting in front of a sunrise, sharing it with someone you love, or just opening it to something bigger than yourself, and let your own spirit float.
You can't make that into a story, but all the same, it's what makes you break apart and fly.

Anyways, Rumi tends to write verses that make you think you're on the floor, ready to get up to love, and...why not? There's more to living in this haze of the world, so go out, trip, fall, drink in both poison and elixir but always stay coherent of your feelings, and find out what turns you yellow and discard it. Find the right roots.

Read the poem again, if you find similar meaning, I hope you'll learn to fly from whatever might be keeping you down, and be broken open by life.
Love,
Tanim

23 realizations before turning 23

1. As I left for Kenya on June 6th, 2012, I found out I passed the Fire Fighter Level 1 exam. Passing it entailed reading and understand over 1,000 pages and passing a grueling practical exam as well being able to handle the stress of being in a live fire capable of inflicting death in 5 weeks. I learned that I was capable of things beyond my comfort zone. Always go beyond your comfort zone.

2. During training in Kenya, I realized I couldn't sleep and always felt uncomfortable. Then, as I walked the fields of Loitokitok, I decided to just start doing what I used to do alone in the woods when I was 13. Practice martial arts. In front of gaping townsfolks, I was too nervous to continue at first, but then realized I should focus. As I continued practicing, I found a sense of calm. Lesson; do what makes you feel real, and live in it. If you can't feel real and focus on it; how else will you stay you and be okay with it?

3. Loneliness: I could be eating in dining room at American University or sitting outside my room in the cold in Kenya (which is how I maintain my internet), and it wouldn't matter, loneliness is a state of mind. I've come to terms with that, doesn't mean it doesn't hurts, but it means that it's there to stay and I should be okay just doing me at the moment.

4. Family: I've always felt like I was never as bright as my father or my brother, or as hardworking and sincere as my mother; but they'll be the first ones to tell me that I'm wrong, and they mean it. And it's time I learn to not use insecurity as a crutch and succeed. I am good enough, you are good enough, now let's just work for it.

5. Love: I've been in love with the same person for 2 years, to the point I dream about her. It shows the effect one person had on me. One can mope, but if I can't get her out of my head, why not just remember that that was a warm point and move on? I realize that in turning 23, I'm in no desire to get married, so why not just enjoy people as people and worry about the future when I'm ready. Because I'll have to make at least 100 more realizations before I can approach that topic again.

6. Mountains (Hills): I live on top of a giant hill that might as well be a mountain. And I've climbed several of the peaks. As for why, I can tell you that every time I climb to the top, rather than enjoying the view, I'm wrapped in nostalgia. So I ask you the question; why do we climb? I failed climbing one peak the first time, and did it again, just to say, I can. Why do you climb?

7. Self efficacy: If I don't believe in myself, how am I to grow.

8. Imagination: If I don't expand beyond what is the status quo; how will I effect change to the same problems tackled over and over again.

9. Agency to act: You can believe, and know how, but without doing, I might as well just go to bed. Just do it, seriously.

10. I love children: Seriously, I spend the time after work just letting children climbing on my back. Take a look at this one.

11. I love flowers: I miss the cherry blossoms at my house

 12. The smell of jasmines re affirms my belief in God: Jasmines are my mother's favorite flower, they smell wonderful, I prefer any vareities. There is one that is called "the Night Queen", it has dozens of buds that bloom only at night on a nightly basis. When I smell them, I think of my mother. Here in Kenya, the first night I spent, I smelt jasmines; I couldn't find them anywhere and assumed they were hiding, but I was happy nonetheless. Then...I realized I would smell jasmines randomly when I walking alone; like two nights earlier when I was coming back from work at 11 am in the pitch dark. I smelt them, looked towards the bush, and then had the urge to look at the stars and just say "Allahamdullilah". Seriously, no jasmines in Sagalla and I smell them, what else can I say?
13. Trust in my feelings: They are a passageway that leads to something that is wonderfully unexplained  Call it sixth sense or whatever, the more in tune I feel with the world, the more I feel guided, and I'm glad.
14. I am proud to be Muslim: Praying makes me happy, calm, and focused; I don't have many other things in the world that do. When I feel the wind, I feel God, when I smell jasmines, I know I am loved (by God and my mother), when it rains, I am drenched inwardly, and when I'm lonely, I have the stars. The simplest things in life are miracles, if we're willing to open our hearts to sense them out.
 15. I am not too old in starting over: I can still try new things, I can now do in one sitting
50 push ups
14 pull ups
100 sit ups
Mind you, I hated all three of those exercises, by why not if it makes me happy at the end?
16. Doing nothing is wonderful when it's a choice: Better than dancing and talking to a million people, sometimes just sitting in my room and watching my cat sleep makes me happy.
17. I love my cat: it's a small life that I do my best to make happy, and it chooses to sleep on my chest and that's worth waking up and falling asleep again.

 18. People are worth meeting: Follow your feelings and you'll find someone that makes you glad that you can listen to their words. Finding those people is part of the joy in life I believe.

19. Being in the forefront does not make you a hero: Learning to blend in the background of my work helped me watch other people take leadership, and I feel like their success is better than watching myself talk in front of crowds. My counter part works so hard, and he never wants credit. He is a hero, remember his name, Godrick Mwachofi.
20. I want to go to Princeton: So I should work for it.
21. I have trouble accepting I have ambition because it makes me afraid I'm selfish.
22. I am selfish: There, I should accept it and not let it own me.
23. I'm happy to be growing up: It's not an hour glass is it? Every day the light shines from galaxies far, far away, and the light is completely different from the moment before...new and ancient...like our blood lines in times past, present and future.

Bring it on April 17th, 2013

10 Month Anniversary

10 months have passed by since I arrived on the 6th of June, 2012.
10 months since I've arrived alone, scared, and confused about the world.
And 10 months later, I find that I am still alone, scared, and confused.
But it's okay.

I look at the work I've done

Working at a dam

Teaching hand washing to a completely different county

 Analyzing data for about 165,000 people within Taita county and then teaching the District Community Health Strategist how to do the so and watched her present the data to the Community Health Extension workers.

 Or watching the health group continue to make sanitary pads after having a friend from JICA teach them.

Finally obtaining the funds to build a Youth Resource Center  

All of these accomplishments I'm proud to say I've been a part of. But more importantly, all of these accomplishments couldn't have been done without the help of those around me

My supervisor Scaver Mwadime, teaching about life skills

My friend and Jica Volunter Tomomi, who taught how to make sanitary pads

Peace Corps Volunteer David McCoy, who partnered with me to analyze data

My family, my rock

And of course, my counter part, Godrick Mwachofi, the life blood of the work behind Sagalla

I've been told that people come and go in this world; and I believe that phrase. You may eventually die surrounded by loved ones, but in the end, it's you who takes the final journey away from this place. Regardless, the people who have came, make an impression on me. All of them.

Even the non people

But especially the  people people

And God willing, 17 months later, I'll have come, and gone.






This picture of the health center in the rain

 This boy sliding through the slippery steps for joy.

This Boy Traveler

Gone

But it's okay...because like I said, 

To be alone, is understanding that you aren't defined by others

To be confused is to acknowledge you don't know

And to be scared...is to acknowledge the truth of how you feel, both the beautiful parts and the scary parts.

What I'm glad I'm not is numb.

Because I know what it's like to be without clean water, fresh food, proper company.

And I know I can fix it.

In being alone I can choose the company I want

In being confused I can reach out to my own clarity.

In being scared, I can prepare to be brave.

That is my 10 month gift to myself. Knowing what I am and am not.

And watching the rains kiss the ground

Through Western Eyes You Won't Find The Answer

It's hot on this hill
The air is stagnant with redundant waves of energized particles dancing through the air in invisible repressive ripples.
I think I drank 4-5 sodas in the course of 24 hours.
I get scared sometimes to write this blog...because I realized how much I'm a part of the "Me" generation, or whatever we call ourselves now.
What's the point of this...when so much of what I write about isn't reflective on the society here.
Writers such as myself, we romanticize Africa...just to break it down in our minds when it doesn't fit our idealization. The truth is...Kenyans have had to live with us their whole lives. Our "free" aid, our culture, and the wealth of every tourist that comes in walking with a Safari hat and money pouch.
I spent an evening in Nairobi when my cousin came here from Bangladesh. I took her to a mall frequented by other Volunteers. The meal we had...I spent more on that meal then a lot of farmers in Sagalla can afford to spend on food for their families in a month. And I could afford it...do you know why. The price tag was 3,000 shillings, a little less than forty dollars. We get paid about 20,000 shillings a month; enough to get us by as Americans. As Kenyans, it's enough to feed a family in the village comfortably.
Even in that mall, I looked at the clientele, it was all foreigners or Indian Kenyans. You wouldn't be able to ever imagine anyone from the village; at least not in Sagalla.
Someone with a qualified degree in Anthropology or Sociology can tell me what it means...that the high class malls, the tours into the African Safari, the five star hotels that cost 13,000 shillings a night (about $175), how they are aimed at benefiting a population that consists of mostly farmers who having simply electricity (forget running water) is a blessing.
Someone told me that what I was doing wasn't a real job...and I think in my part... he was right.
Being in the Peace Corps is like living in a dream for those 27 months are so.
You see what it means to have, and what it means to not have.
Those sodas I drank, cost about 150 shillings, less than two dollars. But guess what, eating a meal here is less than 40 shillings. All those people who saw me drink those sodas, I wonder if it made them just acknowledge the stereotype of a foreigner, having the spare cash to drink something as unnecessary as sugared water.
I'm grateful to those who read this blog; but I want you all to take my words with a grain of salt. I live in the same world as you; read the same things online, crave the same foods, have similar educational aspirations.
I probably dream similar things as well.
But I'm not authentic in this world. All I can do is watch and make the lives of my co-workers easier.
That's not to say being a Volunteer is being useless. Far from the fact; my friends in this short time of 7 months have taught girls to make sanitary pads, educated youth on HIV prevention and sexual health, planted over 400 trees (just one volunteer, can you imagine), and built a dam. But if you wanted to ask me what Kenya was like; I could only be selfish and tell you that I went from being able to do one pull up a week ago to doing 10 in a row just now, all because I watched Fight Club again. Does that sound like what Kenya's like?
Come to Kenya, or whatever country you want and DON'T go on Safari, DON'T stay in a nice hotel, DO be safe about where you go, DO go to a village, DO eat the local food, and DO live without ANY pretense of helping. You can only know by watching, and maybe after a lot of listening, you'll have an answer that nobody else could have given you in five minute dialog.
Karibu.

American 20 something

"Look at us all, boundless meandering wanderers

Nowhere bound, lovelost starstruck whirling ponderers

Forming gentle honeyed milk soothe nothings within the wave of our whispered reverberation

Dying and relighting like phoenix flame moths, tiny candle souls melting our generation"

The spirit of our American youth generation. I can only say it once, and ten years from now, I'll be looking down rather than right into the eyes of what it means to be young.

Growing up we look up to these 20s, and later on we look back but there's one thing I want to say I appreciate about being young, and one thing I want to say about the Americans around me.

I really enjoy the fact that I'm growing. Not physically sadly enough, but that's okay I'm fine without a second puberty, because I know that I've mentally grown at least two feet since first coming to Kenya. Being in the Peace Corps, you have no choice but to deal with things that are so basic you wondered how you could be so numb to them back in America. 

Water is finite, they come in the form of two 20 liter tanks that I used to cook (when I feel like it) and bathe (not going to repeat the previous side comment).

Getting from one place to another takes energy, commitment, and motivation. No hopping in a car down the high way, it's walking for a half an hour or more one day, and back again. I'll never hesitate to use a car to drive again to see friends back in the US.

Food is not always granted. Sometimes I don't have the foresight to shop ahead of time and am left with nothing at night. But more importantly, things have to be in season for there to be plenty.

Try living on under a dollar a day (about 85 shillings) and you'll see how limited your options are. Especially if you don't have the capital to buy ahead of time in whole stock, a typical day in Sagalla looks like this.

Breakfast:

1. Two Mandazi (10 shillings)

2. Chai (15 shillings)

Lunch

1. 1 chapati (15)

1. Beans (15)

Dinner

1. 1 Chapati (15)

2. Beans (15)

That's dollar. If you want toilet paper (30 shillings), phone credit (20 shillings minimum), or even 20 liters of water (10 shilling), you better skimp on some meals.

Kudos to Yasmin Hussein for inspiring me to take a similar challenge to MPAC's Food Stamp Challenge, and Louis Vayo for his successful endeavor to do so last year.

If you want fruit, you'll have to wait for the right season unless you want to fork the 300 shilling round trip to go to the city. Then factor in medical emergencies...you see the picture.

The thing is, the more I learn, the more I get out of this numbness that strikes at the heart of my dissonance with the world.

I've noticed it, our generation, has more than any generation, delved deeply into our own psyche. We are more introspective, imaginative, and some ways lost, than any generation before that. I mean that in complete quantity. The fact that Facebook is a way to communicate with the masses by just becoming self involved shows that. It's a need, to be connected, but also a symptom, of how disconnected our generation finds ourselves. 

Ask your parents, especially those like me who were 1st generation, did they have a poetry phase at the age of 12, did they play at least two different instruments, or delve into so much media to the point where they were "film buffs". We've laced every thought and concept in our life with our own flavor, individualized in our own identity.

That is our American generation, born from a time when the economy was supposedly perfect (I'm a 90s baby, laugh), and raised when following your dreams goes hand in hand with the cynicism joblessness brings.

From Liberal Arts majors waiting tables, to fresh grads accepting data entry for the comfort of the pay check. There is so much of our generation that is looking...for something.

Will we find it in a Masters, in an adventure in voluntourism, in tried and true romantic relationships? I honestly can't give you an answer until we reached past this part, but I can say one thing, we're growing mentally at a rate I think is extraordinary throughout these 20s. While growth can be destructive as well, too many thoughts turning into depression or even apathy, but it's as intrinsic being an American 20 something as waking up in the morning and blinking until the you're wide awake.

This is what it means to be young, to climb uphill, and to grow for it.

So here's to this generation, this generation of lonely, lovely, wanders. May our pilgrim's journey inspire the next batch of youngsters behind us. It's our legacy

Heck, I'll look at this photo years from now and remembered that I sharpened the blade that killed a snake, was used to feed 30 people goat, on top of Sagalla, where I grew up

Handling fears

Exactly a year ago I was on my way out from Bangladesh.

I spent four months there in transition from the last three years spent in American University, studying International Relations, developing leadership and community engagement abilities through working the Muslim Student Association and American University House and Dining Programs.
I was horrified I think, for lack of more fancy terms, of the future ahead.
It wasn't an issue of masculinity, potency, or even wonder about what I actually what I wanted to do.
It was the fear of the transition.

I always feared transition, I put it as number 5 within my top fears of
1. Feeling useless
2. Being weak
3. Losing integrity
4. Losing a sense of compassion
5. Transitions

I waited exactly 16 months to leave for the Peace Corps, but back then in January 11, 2012, I would have to wait two months and 24 days to even find out that I was assigned to Kenya. That was the day, April 4th, 2012, that I finished my Firefighter Level 1 exam, the month before being sent reading over a 1000 pages and countless hours on the field because the month after I came back from Bangladesh, I stepped into the Monmouth Junction Fire Department and said I wanted to sign up (fear number 2)

I found out a few days ago that there might be the possibility of violence March in Kenya because of the elections. Without violating anything security wise, I'll tell you that in 2007, when there were elections in 2007, tribal violence wrecked the country, and more selfishly, Peace Corps Kenya was evacuated.

Rather than wondering about the state of Kenya, where people will most probably lose their lives (shaming me right now, fear number 4), I'm thinking about fear number 5, transitions.

I don't know if I love Kenya, but I love doing work here, I love being effective.
I helped motivate a group of over 76 people to desilt a dam, I taught over 546 people water sanitation, I've helped organize hospital and outreach data of over 6,500 people to a format that can actually allow us to better the health of Sagalla. I can tell you how many children had diarrhea within the last 6 months or how many pit latrines are missing by village.

A year ago, I was jobless, unmotivated, and frightened.
I don't want to be that person again, motivated by fears rather than working to actively fight them.
I know I'm useful here (fear 1), I know I'm strong (fear 2), I have no reason to doubt my own integrity (fear 3), and I'm coming to terms with the fact that even if I am not the same person who walked up the homeless in DC and gave them sandwiches, that I still desire to help people even if I don't feel the same way (fear 4).
So now it's just fear 5, transitions.

I have no idea where I'll be on April 4th, 2013, exactly a year after I was granted direction by the US Government, but challenges are fact, not fancies of fate, and I'll accept whatever comes, and stop letting this fear take me over.