We are in the middle of a pandemic. Like everyone around me, I have gone virtually nowhere in the last few weeks. An occasional walk or quick errand in the car. No need for coordinated outfits or dressing up. And yet, this morning, I organized my closet, initiating the great migration of my spring and summer wardrobe and putting my heavy winter things into storage. For me, this is yearly therapy. Despite the usual disappointments of spring in Buffalo, NY, and the looming frost that mocks my impatience, I boldly prepare with color and vibrancy. Of course, this spring I need it more than ever.
When I opened my summer totes, I was overcome with emotion. I realized that for the past 10+ years this ritual transcends seasonal anticipation. As I looked at the clothing before me- the dresses, skirts and colorful cloths- memories of Tanzania washed over me, the trips themselves but also their preparation, selecting items that would be good for travel- the long plane rides, the dusty roads, and bumpy safaris. I chose long skirts for the villages and special dresses for our dinners by the sea. These experiences- complete my with thoughts, conversations, and moments- had permeated the clothing and continue to emanate now, as I sit here typing on my bed, staring at my open wardrobe, feeling blessed beyond words.
It is true that my May trip has been postponed for how long, I cannot know. But rather than sadness, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude, thankful for my relationships and my ability to live vicariously through the movement and growth that continue. Ironically, while I was sorting through my summer clothing, I received a call from Stephen Marwa, who was checking in from Tanzania. Although we had been maintaining weekly conversations, we had fallen off, due to the virus. I have to admit that I was hesitant to answer Stephen’s call, unsure I could hold my usual energy and attention. I am so thankful I answered.
We talked briefly about the Corona outbreak, exchanging updates and news. But the conversation quickly moved to the week ahead. On Monday, they will begin the community survey work, using the instrument that we helped create through collaboration. Although we intended to send funds associated with our students’ project, everything had come to a halt. Luckily, I was able to organize an informal fundraiser that went forward even in the face of social distancing. Through the generosity of colleagues and friends, and the power of GoFundMe, I was able to send $450, which in Tanzania still goes far. Stephen assured me that he would use these precious funds wisely, since there is no way of knowing when external funding will resume. We agreed that the work must continue, and the need for nimbleness, leadership and tenacity are greater than ever. Stephen shared that the heavy rains have washed out many roads, making his initial plans to focus on Musoma Rural untenable. Instead, he will conduct the survey on an island in Rorya, traveling by boat, joined by students from Buhare Community Development Training Institute who are eager to be involved. Any remaining funds will be used to start the mapping work.
I asked him about soap making, which is growing in popularity as communities worry about Corona and learn of the importance of hand washing. We spoke briefly of other projects, emphasizing the importance of a new website that will be designed by a UB student, showcasing ongoing initiatives and building capacity for collaboration and support. I mentioned that I would come as soon as I could, but that was a given and didn’t need to be said. Stephen mentioned his appreciation, but only quickly, since it was also understood. We are well beyond these formalities and both recognize that our journeys are forever interconnected.
How ironic that things are moving more quickly in Tanzania than here in New York. It’s as if we are in a state of suspended animation. Perhaps right now, I need Mara Tanzania more than they need me. But I am grateful that I can come along, sharing their growth and movement, brought to me through Stephen’s voice, social media posts, and my beautiful summer clothes.
I hope to share these updates with you, whoever and wherever you are. I have a feeling that I am not the only one in need of movement, connectivity and relevance. In reality, we are not so far away, and we are all in this together.