Leaving tomorrow!

Uganda, here I come!

Word

I don't think I've said "malaria prophylaxis" so much in my life.
Actually, I know I haven't.

til next time

Official Countdown Starting NOW!

I just inserted a countdown to my Ugandan departure!!
Just over one month to go!

til next time

Little Surprises

Merry Christmas!!

It's been a bit of a whirlwind since the semester ended, but I'm finally back home typing away in the peace that can only be found under the warm covers blanketing my top bunk.

It's really quite strange to finally be packing and preparing for Uganda. Talking to extended family members about my upcoming semester for the past several days has certainly brought a more startling sense of reality. I'm leaving, really leaving, in just over a month.

I haven't even left yet, but I've found myself constantly surprised by things I wasn't quite expecting. Planning for a semester in any foreign country is much more than just leaving and returning a few months later. There's so much that no one ever tells you, and I think that's one of the reasons I decided to start my blog so early. It's been an exciting process, but at times a very challenging and confusing one.

Here are some of the things I know now that I wasn't expecting:

• Costs. Going to Uganda for three and a half months requires a lot of preparation. My health insurance covers the cost of some things, but not all. Shots, prescription medicines, visa fees, shipping and mailing fees, and transportation fees may not seem substantial individually, but when compounded can become quite expensive. I've had to purchase new clothes and shoes that are appropriate for the culture and weather, the right kind of sunscreen and insect repellant, and even a headlamp for when the power goes out! 
• Shots really aren't that scary. 
• Moving out of the dorm mid-year is really weird, yet oddly fulfilling. I'll miss my friends and roommate dearly, but I know that I have some exciting adventures ahead.
• People don't know very much about Africa. (Including me!) For a lot of people I think it is easy to lose sight of the fact that Africa is a continent, not a country. Over the past few months I started realizing that we learn hardly anything about the history of the countries of Africa in school, and I think it's a shame. There is a lot of misconception and a general sense of homogeneity when thinking about African countries, including Uganda.
• Saying you're going to Uganda for a semester is kind of unusual to most people. With just about every person I have told about my upcoming semester in Uganda, I've received three main responses: 
1. WHAT?! [I'm shocked that you, Shannon of such fair complexion and generally predictable behavior, would ever choose something like that, but good for you!]
2. AWESOME! WHEN DO YOU LEAVE [and when can I visit]?! *high five*  
3. WHY [would you ever choose to go there]?!
• All of these responses are totally warranted. It's really difficult to slide under the radar when something like this comes up. Sometimes I wish people would just say "ok, cool" and move on, but reveling in the predictability of their response, or trying to guess which one will be elicited, is kind of enjoyable and funny at the same time. When this comes up, I usually have a lot of explaining to do, and even though I'm really used to the idea of going to an African country for a few months, most people are not. There's certainly a lot of answering the same questions over and over, and in the end, people usually think I'm crazy/weird/fascinating or some sort of martyr. It's really hard to convince people that I'm just a student studying abroad, taking on a new challenge. But somehow, it's ok. In fact, it's actually made me feel more at ease just rolling with the punches in general.
• People are extremely curious. People I haven't talked to in months or have little contact with are suddenly interested in what I've been up to; journeying to Uganda certainly brings about some funny things that don't happen during or before a regular semester at school.
• Predicting how I will feel this summer after the program is really hard. As I attempt to plan for what I will be doing this summer, I'm having a bit of trouble even knowing what state of mind I will be in. Perhaps I will want to take on another challenge and intern abroad for another 6 or 8 weeks; but maybe I'll just want to be home doing something locally. My family is moving this summer, so it adds a bit more to the decision. I'll need to pack everything for Uganda and for the big move a few months down the road. It's not a complaint, but it's a lot to think about even before the semester begins.
• Context is important. It is important to keep context in mind when considering in the things people say, how they act, the decisions they make, and the beliefs they have. There is a reason (or reasons) we do the things we do, and there is a certain motivation behind each action, as subconscious as it may sometimes be. 

In reading what I have written in this post and throughout my blog, I don't mean to seem pretentious, assuming, annoying, or anything else negative in origin; but I realize this is how my writing comes off sometimes, even to me. I'm merely trying to express my thoughts, concerns, worries, joys, and experiences as I perceive them. Writing a blog for me is a challenge because I've grown so accustomed to the dry, cold scientific writing required for my studies that it can be difficult for me to expand my horizons and write more candidly. However, it's a challenge I'm looking forward to and am excited to work with.

My initial intention of creating this blog was to provide a window for my family and friends back home to keep up with me in Uganda, but I can now see that it is just as much for me as it is for them.

til next time.

Betwixt and Between

So much has happened since my last post. For one thing, I have a plane ticket. Last Thursday was my last of three pre-departure meetings with the Notre Dame Office of International Studies.  I've had a couple more medical clearances, and I'm turning in my last (hopefully) piece of paperwork tomorrow. I'm in the process of applying for a visa. Heck, I've even started to think about how I will be packing up my dorm room.

It's been a very interesting semester. I like the word "interesting." In itself it is certainly "interesting" indeed because upon initial inspection, it seems to hold neither positive nor negative connotation and leaves much to the imagination. It's a frequented filler word that I tend to use when I honestly just don't really know what else to say. Interesting...

I had a couple of interviews for international summer service programs last Sunday. It's so strange to think that by the time summer rolls around, my Ugandan adventure will already be over. It's even stranger to think about how truly important it is to still be to be fully engaged with everything going on here and now without fumbling obligations to prepare for next semester, next summer, and next year. Thinking about jobs, internships, service, research projects, applications, exams, the beast that is senior year, living arrangements, money, endless papers, while still getting enough sleep every night is a tricky balance, but I guess that's part of what college is all about; a clever discernment to discover the balance of learning inside and outside the classroom. Yet, I don't mean this to sound like a complaint. I don't feel stressed, just rushed and a bit melancholy. I feel like time is slipping away from me sometimes.

Thoughts about college experiences are on a rather confusing polar spectrum. It's really easy to dramatize daily stresses. Yet, it is also very common to trivialize the emotions and experiences of college.  I've certainly been gulilty of both. It's an odd thing. We want to learn, but with so many classes and responsibilities, we usually cannot give each class the attention we would like to. We're here to "work" but we or (for many of us) our parents are paying an incredible amount of money to be here, so there's a certain pressure get good grades. We have dreams, but for many of us, we know that we can never have our true "dream jobs." We're at a strange liminal period betwixt and between childhood and adulthood; we're treated like adults by the law and certain authorities, but yet we still depend on our parents financially and for countless other things.

 It seems like so much of college is spent preparing, looking to the future. I wish it weren't so difficult to appreciate the present. I think this is one of the things I'm most looking forward to in Uganda: achieving a simple appreciation for the present. So simple, yet so powerful.

til next time.

Like Tears in the Rain

"All these moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain."

There are almost 7 billion other people in the world, and every single one of them is doing something right now. Sleeping, eating, running. Crying, dying, waiting. Discovering, inventing, destroying. Something. All these people have their own complexities, secrets, emotions, stories, problems, dreams. Every single one.

Each of us does things every day that few will ever know. After each of us is gone, these things will be lost, swept away like particles of dust, never to be known or thought of at night while drifting off to sleep.

Isn’t that amazing? Gone. Like that. Without any notice.

I’m beginning to realize that this is exactly why I want to get out into the world and see things for myself. It’s a matter of somehow understanding (or beginning to understand) the human experience. Right now people are doing things that I will never see in ways that I don’t understand for reasons I cannot comprehend. I won’t begin to know anything about other people if I do not meet them, live with them, and learn from them. It’s actually really similar to the idea of being in college and living with peers, just in a different setting surrounded by different people. (Okay, maybe a little different)

Today in my Archaeology class my professor showed us the scene from Blade Runner featuring the quote from above.

"All these moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain."

I found it to be quite profound, yet melancholy. Melancholy because I realize that we’re all more than tears in the rain and our experiences and feelings are incredibly significant to each of us, regardless of how they may appear to others when inspected with a critical and comparing eye.

Does any of this have value? I guess it depends upon what ‘value’ means. When reduced to economic terms, it probably has very little, if any at all. Does it matter to our society? On the surface, it seems not, but I think there is much more to be understood. It matters to me. It offers a sense of social memory, perspective, and worth, and that’s what’s important, right?

til next time.

Simplicity

Today in an anthropology class I was asked to write about my personal educational philosophy. On the surface, this doesn't seem too tricky. I've gone to school for fifteen years; I should have a pretty good idea of what education is and how I view it.

Wrong.

I felt incredibly challenged, and I asked more questions than I answered. Luckily, my professor has a very interesting educational philosophy herself that allows me to explore and question in such a way.

The next day another professor paid homage to The Silence of the Lambs proclaiming, "Simplicity. Of each particular thing ask: what is it in itself? What is its nature?"  

Simplicity. Stripping away the incidentals to discover the principal.

In a way, as I wrote my essay, I was subconsciously trying to get there, to the simplicity of my personal philosophy. I certainly wish these wise words were in the back of my mind to remind me, though.

Sometimes people ask me, "Why Uganda?" 

Why? 

Because I want to go. 

Yet, that doesn't really get to the principal, or does it? 

Because I'm curious. 

But why?

Because I'm feeling lost here in the Midwest part of the United States and feel like I don't have any perspective of the rest of the world and the people in it.

That sounds selfish. Shouldn't I want to heal the world or save the planet? 

I do. But I'm not sure a semester of study in Uganda will achieve these things. Actually, I know it won't. I'm going to Uganda to get educated, in a different way. If I can come home changed, with a wider, more informed perspective, then I have the potential to do a lot more. 

People don't need to go to Africa to change the world, but if going to Africa can open one's eyes to the incredible variety of the human experience, I say go. Just don't expect to change the world (right away at least). 

Maybe my time in Uganda will help me to understand my own community in a new way so that I may better understand and aid the people I share a zip code with. Maybe I'll start to formulate what I'm going to do with my life. Maybe I'll simply grow a substantial appreciation for indoor plumbing.

I don't really know what's going to happen to me. The important thing is to embrace the experience for what it is. Expectations are deceptive, so I'm trying to keep an open and unformulated mind. Simplicity. It's new to me, but I know it's important.

In the end, my reflection essay was basically a mess, but that's ok. I'm learning, in my own way.

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It is difficult for me to begin to pinpoint my own educational philosophy, but even more difficult is that after fifteen years of formal education, I cannot specifically say that I have one. Professor Oka told my International Development studies class, “Education matters if you can use it as capital.” I believe this is a very valid statement when concerning the merits of formal education and its goals: to give knowledge and perspective so that its beneficiary can have the tools to make a living and hopefully contribute positively to the world. However, I do not believe formal education is the only type of education, and I think it encompasses much more than a job or career path.

Education comes in many forms and from many places. Teachers are not alone. Parents, family members, peers, friends, elders, and even small children can often be the most formative instructors of ‘education.’ This leads me to the question, what is education, and what does it mean to be ‘educated?’ There are many things to be educated about, and for many reasons are people educated.

Notre Dame’s mission statement has a particularly interesting take on education:
“The University seeks to cultivate in its students not only an appreciation for the great achievements of human beings, but also a disciplined sensibility to the poverty, injustice, and oppression that burden the lives of so many. The aim is to create a sense of human solidarity and concern for the common good that will bear fruit as learning becomes service to justice."

I have to admit, in some ways this confuses me. What does it actually, concretely mean, and what are its practical implications? Theoretically, it sounds very noble, but is it feasible? At this point I am still trying to figure that out.

In essence, I am still floundering about. I don’t quite know my educational philosophy because at times I feel the things I learn outside the formal classroom setting are far more valuable and worthwhile than those picked up between the hollow cinderblock walls of a school building. In a way, it leads me back to a very substantial question: why are we here in the first place? Are we formally educated to find work? Are we supposed to work to live, or vice versa? And, how do all of these things relate to the emotions, feelings, and power of the overall human experience? What does “human experience” even mean?

I truly think that education is supposed to enhance the experience of being human, but sometimes it seems more prohibitive than anything else. It feels like a battle between the formal and informal aspects of education, and it consequently forms a bit of a contradiction. Formal education isn’t very forgiving and it provides nothing unconditionally. Informal education can be incredibly personally rewarding, but it is generally not appreciated on its own in terms of capital and economic value.

So, what is my educational philosophy? I’m not quite sure, but this question certainly gives me a great deal to think about so that I may begin to form a more structured opinion.
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til next time.