Insomnia

After publishing my previous post, closing my computer, and falling into bed, I woke up in the middle of the night with some additional thoughts.

My service cannot be described simply as a 2-year stint.

I often get asked the question, “How was your trip?” 

And I have NO idea how to respond, because this "trip" was an indescribable journey and provided me with perspective that continues to change through the lens of my current experience.  All in all, my service still continues to affect me because my life has become integrally tied to the lives of the people I lived among.  They continue to be a fundamental part of my life – through constant facebook messages and whatsapp calls, often more frequent than my own parents’ messages!

It can be difficult deciding where to draw the line with whom to help out back in Tanzania.  A few months ago, I sent an amount equivalent to less than a month’s rent to help a dear friend finish school.  And I wasn’t sure I did the right thing.  Peace Corps and most development organizations prohibit volunteers from giving free handouts.  In the long run, yes, this kind of aid is unsustainable and doesn’t do a lick to promote development.  Regardless, almost all volunteers give these kind of handouts at some point because we aren’t stoic warriors of peace – we are emotional, compassionate human beings with a strong desire to make an impact.

Similarly, while in the midst of a challenging unit studying kidney function in medical school, I saw the clinical correlates in my Tanzanian community.  Two of my dearest friends had a father and a husband, respectively, battling end stage renal disease.  On a visit to the dialysis clinic here at the University of Michigan – a tertiary care center – I saw how treatment of this disease is incredibly painful and difficult even in a heavily-resourced, state-of-the-art facility.  How are my friends coping in Tanzania, where access to healthcare is a different story altogether?  One of my friends requested materials that are readily accessible here – a catheter insertion set, an extension, an adapter – that would greatly improve his father’s quality of life.  How can I get them to him?  How can I do so in a sustainable manner?  Conversely, how can I stoop so low to move such a life-threatening matter to the back burner as my life here takes over?

These are a few examples of the battles I face as a place my service in the context of my current experience.  I will continue to think about these questions as my life continues to intertwine and cross paths with my sisters and brothers across the Atlantic.