Basically a small difference, that makes a big difference, and you don't even know it will make any difference until much later.
In the sense above, my trip to Africa really began with 10 days won to Paris three years ago (see 'my works>texts', where it has been since after the trip). When I signed up for the competition I didn't even know that if I'd win, I'd be there with other people from all around the world. When I got to Paris I had no idea that I would come to meet my future best friends. And when we said good bye we didn't know if we would ever see each other again.
That's how I ended up in Africa three years later.
The trip to Paris affected me the whole time while in Africa in the sense that having good friends changes your perspective, or makes you think about things in different ways; this is their whole lives, but 5 weeks of holiday to me.
Especially Rwanda made a huge impact on me. To give you an idea, I remember watching the film Hotel Rwanda when I was 14 in geography class; we were learning about Africa, and that's all it was. I watched it again many years later, after having been to Paris and meeting a best friend from Rwanda, and everything was so much stronger; the feelings, the sadness, the intensity. I almost cried.
Those feelings came back while in Rwanda, not just when visiting the Genocide Memorial but sometimes even just out in the streets, when thinking about what had happened 20 years ago on the very ground I was walking on. I almost cried again, despite this time without having watched any film but only the setting I was in.
Another thing that was quite constantly on my mind was how I could help these people. Yes, my friend of course in particular, but also the people we met and talked to in the streets, possibly most obviously in Burundi. Perhaps it's more "of course" in the isolated extremely poor areas of Burundi, but I felt as if even my well-educated friend saw Europe as some kind of place that only exists in dreams. Actually, not just in dreams, but in miracles, and then add 'distant' miracle. It is just so unthinkable to these people that they will ever get out of where they are that they even dismiss thinking of it as something they should try to work towards.
They have dreams and wishes. One boy in Burundi wanted to meet his biggest idol; Enrique Iglesias..... Yes, that might be hard...but it's just so sad to hear the people talk about how hopeless everything is for them. Maybe it is - but where is the hope? Even here at home we sometimes have to fight against the odds, but we have the courage to do it - and we know we have to to get anywhere sometimes! But most of these people don't think outside the boxes, they don't believe in beating the odds, or then they just don't even know what that means...
So what I was thinking about is how can I help them? Or at least make their dreams come true? (By the way, you won't find any solution by continuing reading...) Even if I somehow, impossibly (but see, at least I have hopes!), manage to help or do something amazing for just these few people that I talked to then there would still be a millions more out there. Not that it makes me give up - it just provides a bit of perspective...
So while in these thoughts of how 'locked up' many Africans are in Africa, I couldn't stop thinking that I need to get my friends back to Europe. The only time they've been on a flight, or even outside their own countries and country of birth, was on that won trip to Paris! There's so much they need to see, to try, to experience!
What else?
Black people...of course not in the bad meaning but, since I've never been to sub-Saharan Africa before it would be different than any other of the billion trips I've made - but strangely, it wasn't. Within five minutes from arriving at the airport and starting our drive towards Kampala, it started feeling like any other place on earth. Not as if I had seen it before, but as if it wasn't all that strange. Perhaps this sounds strange seeing as we got starred down every time we took a stop over in some of the small villages by people who seemed curious about what white people could possibly be doing in their town...but for some reason it wasn't weird because they do that in the mountainous Vietnam as well and stuff - and there I look just like them (although admittedly my parents don't...)! But that bring me to my second irony in al of this; after some weeks I thought 'oh it will be nice to get home where I look like everyone else' - and then the thought kicked in: 'wait...I don't look like everyone else, even at home!' I guess my original thought meant to be that I look forward to people not starring at me...but that's not actually true. I liked the attention - because you could easily start talking to people - and they were nice. Here at home I just look different and people start speaking English to me (but of course only if they need to, like in the store or something, but never out of plain friendly curiosity) because they think I'm a damn immigrant or perhaps even a tourist.
That thing about easily talking to people though brings me to my next point: African openness. While it's very charming and fun to get to talk to lots of people, coming from Europe...we're just not used to it, not in the same way, I think even the Italians might agree. And because we're not used to it, we tend to find it a bit intimidating if the person is "pushing" too hard. Some people in my group were a bit too intimidated though, to the point where she was joking about a guy at the Rwandan art place who had invited her home to see his art - which she did not want to do alone because "he would probably show me something else". OK fine...very quick offer to invite someone home after only a few minutes of knowing someone (even I discretely turned down such an offer on the coach to Kigali) but I didn't turn it down because I was afraid of getting raped or something weird like that! And I certainly wouldn't go around saying that someone who is probably very nice and genuine might be a rapist. There I think the girls on my "team" went too far.
On the other hand, the people that I did get to know and exchanged contact details with...I did it because they were nice people and it would be nice to stay in touch every now and then to see how things are down there in that awesome continent of theirs - and most importantly if I ever come back of course. But because of their...talkativeness that we're not used to, most of the guys that I met keep on writing me, or kept on writing me constantly for some time. And that just gets annoying because, since I barely got to know some of them, we don't really have all that much to talk about except for 'how are you?' and that gets dull... And I know they mean well and I meant well when I genuinely wanted to exchange contact details but it gets so overwhelming in a sense...in a European sense if you like. Nevertheless it is true that I would want to meet them again if I went back! Maybe after that there would be more to say.
For now, I don't have more to say though so I think I will call it a blog (call it a day - call it a blog, get it?)
I hope you've enjoyed my Africa blog and thoughts. I might return with more, but that's not the plan for now at least. I might bring you stories from the fish factory instead where I'm re-earning some money after the major spendings - who knows!
Again, thanks for reading! Hope to be back soon!