Where is home? & Have no shame

Land of the Familiar, Home of the Brethren

Before I climbed Mount Kilimanjaro, I grabbed a book from the local store in Arusha. Over the course of my time on the mountain I devoured Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie - the story of a Nigerian born woman who elects to move to America for college, built a life there for fifteen years, and then returns to live in Nigeria.

The central theme of the book is the main character’s yearning for her old life, for the familiar. She does enjoy the many benefits to life in America, and even recognizes the challenges of life back in Nigeria - but nevertheless, after fifteen years in America she leaves everything to restart life back where she’s from.

I resonated deeply with this sentiment, albeit in reverse.

Nearly ninety days into backpacking across Africa, I’ve had the opportunity to consider what many people asked me back when I was gearing up to go - are you going to move there?

I wasn’t sure, I hadn’t properly been. Unlikely, but at that point anything was possible.

Now that all the evidence is in, a verdict has been reached:

No. I will not live here, absent extraordinary circumstances I cannot fathom. I will return home, and build the foundation of my life in the United States of America (possibly the United Kingdom, we’ll see).

I love to travel, it will always be a part of both my professional and personal life… but it’s just that - travel. My home is in America. Not in Miami, but still - America.

It is my culture, it is familiar, it is something I understand, it is something I love and appreciate now more than ever before.

Have no shame for what you are

As I travel through countries that have contingents living in astounding poverty, it’s natural to have a bit of guilt or shame for the life I’ve lived.

Maybe that’s the marking of an empathetic person or because I resemble the people that once colonized these lands.

Whatever it is - there’s a critically important lesson in those feelings:

I will not be ashamed or feel guilt for things outside of my control.

I will not feel shame for being a man, or an American, or white, or Jewish, etc. I had nothing to do with these things, and bear no responsibility for them.

As any good person, I am humbled and grateful for the many blessings I have been born with. I strive to be educated about the world and the vast differences of experience for the people in it. I look to help and contribute to those in need wherever I can.

So when a guy on the street screams at me for ignoring him trying to sell me something “Ah, you are that way because you’re white!”…

Yeah, I’m white. F*ck off.

Sincerely,

Jacob

P.S. I visited the largest market in Kenya today, which I’ll describe in three words. Clothes, Crowded, Mud.