Why?

Who would have thought that a basic three-letter word with such a simple meaning could be so significant? Surprising as it may be, the usual response from other people when told of my upcoming trip to Africa is, "Why?". Like reallllly? How is it so hard for people to wrap their head aroung the concept of doing something for others just because you can... So, my typical response to their question, which I thought would suffice, was "To help the people that live there".

As I got closer to my date of departure and the reality had set in that I am actually going!!!, I found myself asking myself the same question of WHY? I mean, I've been telling myself since high school that I was going to do this... But WHY? Why this? Why now? Was this an attempt to make myself known for something? Was it a way of making myself feel good, boost my morale? Was it an impetuous attempt at wooing a girl? Was it a way for me to escape from MY reality? Having pondered these questions for a bit, I realized my true answer to the question, "WHY?"

Having been born into a family that actively practiced the Mormon religion,(which I migh add is a religion that HIGHLY revolves around service), I was intensely taught from birht to 'Love One Another'. It was also engrained in me to view each and every person, no matter who they are, or how, when or where they lived, as my brother and/or sister. These teachings, along with seeing constant examples of them through my family and community, predisposed me to have a compassionate and empathetic persona. Being subpar at almost anything I attempted as a child (school, sports, socializing), I discovered one thing that I was good at... and that was helping others with their happiness. I remember, as a child I constantly found myself worried, disgruntled, and/or distressed with the problems of others, even if it was somebody whom had no relation or significance to me. A few examples I remember: Worrying that the fat girl 3 grades my junior is happy and has friends; stressing over my friend that lives in a condo and has no father (yes, at that age I viewed living in a condo to be substandard); worrying about the well-being of the new girl who constantly falls asleep in class and lives with her aunt. Interest in the well-being of others has always been a major influence to my thoughts and actions.

At a young age, I was very interested in animals, in fact, I loved them, I LIVED for them. So, for obvious reasons, Africa was somewhere I found particularly interesting. I mean, for my entire 6th grade year I was adamant that everyone refer to me as Tarzan. It was in elementary that I first noted the differences in the lifestyles of the African people and myself. My school was raising money for an African tribe and many in-school activities were centered around this fundraiser. We learned a lot about the tribe and I remember finding it fascinating that people lived so differently than I did and things that I had believed to be standard elements of life (parents, food, housing, clothes, toys) weren't so standard for these people. At the time, I wanted to go over there and do anything I could to help, but did not even consider it as a possibility. For the remainder of my childhood, I remember taking particular interest in any stories that involved people living in Africa. I have since come to the realization that Africa has been the "forgotten continent". It appears that, throughout history, Africa has been a constant shitting ground for the world. It's natives treated like animals, viewed as "property" and unintelligent, there to serve other humans. It's resources were anybody's for the taking. The natural cultures and methods of living ignored with the attempted colonization of the continent, only to later be abandoned to figure it out for themselves.

It was not until High School, at a time when I was questioning everything about myself, that I first considered the idea of going to Africa. With the impending question of whether or not to serve a mission for the Mormon church upon me, I began to thoroughly evaluate my beliefs and weigh the infinite directions my life could take. I knew that a mission was something my family found to be extremely important, not only because it was something the church strongly suggested but because they thought it was an invaluable experience in self-growth, discipline, and generosity. This kind of experience was something I desired as well, but the idea of a mission was hard for me because I couldn't justify paying all this money and time to go "Preach the Word of God" when I could use those same resources to do something more meaningful for humanity. I mean, don't you find priority in helping people that have difficulties just living their current lives over trying to prevent possible complications with their after-life? It was then that the idea of going on a humanitarian trip to Africa, to help people like the ones I've been learning about all my life, crossed my mind as a legitimate possibility and became a preferred alternative to serving a mission. The start of college kind of put my plan to go to African on the back-burner, but my desire to lend a hand was manifested through many essays written that revolve around some problem that some people in Africa face, such as the AIDs epidemic or conflict diamonds. So... When I realized that I had no obligations this summer and accepted that it may be the last summer that I have the availability, I jumped on my dream of a humanitarian expedition in Africa.

So there. That is WHY.