I find myself feeling extremely emotional as I sit here during this 10 hour flight with lots of time to reflect. As I expected, I have such mixed feelings. Of course, I am excited to be going home to see my family and friends. There are so many things I am excited to do back in the States - I know this year will be purposeful and productive and I need to go home to finish some of the things I have started. But, I also find that my heart aches with the sadness of "goodbye". I love traveling and I love spending time with people from all over the world, attempting to speak several languages and experiencing and sharing our cultures. I love Africa. I love Zambia - the place I have come to feel is like a second home. I love Angola, DRC, Somalia, Rwanda - all these countries that I have come to know through my friends that have welcomed be so warmly into their lives and shared with me their culture, history, personal stories, and relationship. I love that I feel a part of something - something bigger than a nuclear family unit. I have become a part of so many networks of loosely defined extended families. I love the instant camaraderie I feel when I meet someone new with nothing in common except a love and passion for Africa and a few phrases of a shared language that they never expected an American girl to know.
I still feel a personal conflict raging within me. I struggle so much with the allure of the materialism of the American middle class. I'll admit that I am easily distracted by shiny things and fall victim to the illusion offered by clever marketing - not so much of "things", but of a lifestyle... a level of comfort, prestige, style, and image. When these things are available to you, it is easy to forget what is truly important. i went to Zambia excited for the experience - cherishing the simple pleasures of relationships with other people and with nature. I went to Italy with an agenda of acquisition - of perfect perfect views that go well in a photo album and of items that will make me believe that I am somehow more sophisticated. I came home with fashionable jewelry, fine Italian leather accessories, trendy clothing, handmade handkerchiefs, and perfume created from a recipe handed down from 17th century monks. It is all an illusion... it is a lie. And the saddest thin is that I know that and yet I still play along.
A couple movies I was watching on the plane illustrated my thoughts perfectly. I started with The Joneses - a movie that shows just what slaves we've become to image, via materialism. We (Americans?) will do anything to keep up with this ideal we think we need to meet. In the movie, one man gets himself into financial ruin trying to keep up with the lifestyle of his new neighbor. Eventually, his situation feel so dire to him that he commits suicide. The saddest part was that he was trying to imitate a lie - the new family was nothing more than salespeople trying to influence their social networks in a clever marketing strategy. Then, I watched The Book of Eli- a practically post-apocalyptic story of the desperation of mankind when brought nearly to ruin, and the hope represented by faith. In the movie, a young girl asks an older man to talk about the world before the war that changed everything. "What was it like - the world before?" "People had more than they could use. They didn't know what was precious. We threw away things people kill for now."
It breaks my hear to know that this is a very accurate statement... one that describes even me. I am not looking upon society from a place of judgement, but taking a critical look at myself and the society that I am a part of - trying to understand it, trying to understand myself, trying to take an honest look in order to move forward in a positive direction.
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