BEACHBURG, ONTARIO, December 19, 2006 - It’s been three days now that I’ve been without fresh bananas bought off the street.  I also haven’t had my usual ‘AfriCafe’ instant coffee drink in three days either.  This morning, the water in my shower actually had a warm tinge to it too, and as for the clothes I’m wearing today, I can honestly say that I did not wear them yesterday or for the past week.  Strange but true, and all too much of a reality—so I must be back home in Beachburg, Ontario.

I arrived back in Canada four days ago, but not to what I was expecting.  The typical minus 20, mid-December weather I am accustomed to here in the Ottawa Valley resembled much more what I had left behind in Tanzania.  Oddly enough, it was actually colder on Kilimanjaro than it is here today and there’s more snow on the summit of that mountain in Africa than there is on the front lawns of eastern Ontario homes.

Despite the blistering sun and unforgiving winds in Tanzania, my time on the ground in Africa will forever be cherished as an ‘opportunity of a lifetime’.  Aside from missing my team members and sharing in the experiences they will encounter during the remainder of Expedition Africa, there are a number of fantastic memories that will stick with me as I continue life back home.

I encourage anyone to visit East Africa to catch a glimpse of a Masai warrior’s red robes flapping like a flag in the wind in the vast stretches of the savannah.  As he herds his cattle towards water and watches over their heads, he protects them from a very real danger that exists there--lions.  One must also visit Kilimanjaro to test their will against the forbidding heat, wind, and snows that prevent many from reaching its summit.  One must also experience the people of the land and visit their small boutiques made of cardboard and tarps to understand the amount of time they must invest to make such intricate crafts and carry such heavy loads from so far away. 

It would be unfortunate if someone travelled to East Africa and did not get to experience the jostling of the crowds in downtown Nairobi or the salesmanship of those who somehow manage to persuade you to buy whatever it is they have to sell--I swear that some street vendors could sell you your own shirt off your back!

But, the most memorable of all were the children. Their lives are extraordinarily difficult yet, as you play with them on the dirt floor of their one-room school house, their smiles are as endless as the landscape they inhabit.  Barefoot on the rocks, they would follow me wherever I roamed--up hills to get a better view, down ravines to scope out a waterfall amidst a creek.  Managing their way through thick brush and thorns was not a problem for them.

It dawned on me one day that even though these children are faced with such extreme living conditions, they appear to be as happy, if not happier, than the children back home.  Their eyes grow wide with interest as they grab at your digital camera to see the little photo you just took of them.

These children are not obsessed with the latest fashions or technical gadgetry.  At a very young age, some 7 or 8 years old, they are given a place in their family structure that requires an extraordinary amount of responsibility.  How many 8-year olds do you know who are able to herd goats and cattle?

I saw little girls, some maybe 10 years old, with a baby on their back, wrapped snugly in a sarong.  These girls tended their family’s babies day after day as they walked for kilometres on end to fetch water.  In addition to their baby bundle, they would carry a 15 litre pail of water on their heads, over rocks, down hills, and up steep trails--incredible feats performed so regimentally on a daily basis by such young people.

I will remember the children above all other things because the children of Africa, at least the ones I encountered, are all living in the same conditions, under the same sky, heated by the same sun, and cooled by the same starry skies at night.  These children understand happiness at such a basic level; most of us would consider their leisure a sort of torture.

I continually wished that I had brought more for these children--more soccer balls, more clothes, and more pencils to write with.  But as I watched them closely, the intensity of their contentment with what they have, overwhelmed me.  Like all things in life, the more we have, the more we want.   These children do not desire the material goods we possess until we give things to them.  If they had never seen us, not in their lifetime, they would never be aware of all that they do not have.

My side of the story is the flipside of theirs.  If I had never met these children, not in my lifetime, I would never be aware of all that I do have.  I would not have learned to appreciate all the greatness that is in my life.  I am fortunate to have interacted with these children; to see that their smiles are wider than mine; their eyes brighter than mine and that, even in the face of hunger, thirst, and underdevelopment, they somehow overcome their daily hardships and continue to live and love at a level very few of us will ever comprehend.

Cameron Dubé

Read and hear more about the adventures of Cameron, fellow Outdoor Adventure graduate Ben Shillington, and first-year student Sarah Peterson on the "Small World - Big Picture" African Expedition website. 

<Back to Top>