my turn to rant: the glaring differences

Okay, deep breaths.


An acquaintance died of TB. The more probable underlying cause of his too soon death? Having AIDS, where his body couldn’t handle the attack on an already weakened immune system. I mourn for his wife and children. He was a good man.

And a friend, whose stories read more like a Jerry Springer episode. Where every week, some other tragedy occurs. It’s inevitably an issue I can’t relate to, where I realise more and more, our cultures are so different. Maybe too different?

Or when a colleague says a racist comment, and I laugh. Because this place I live in feels so racially aware. Every day I am talked to, looked at, because I am the token white girl. But no excuses, I still laughed.

I tweeted the other week that someone should just send me home to Canada. It would be easier right?

And then my sister wrote a message jokingly, “see this is why it’s bad that we don’t live closer…..” I start crying, because all of the emotions of this place – the queues, the heat, the inconveniences, HIV, illogical bureaucracy, laziness, bad driving, slow internet, THE HEAT – are starting to add up. And I forget why the fuck I am here anymore.

I open Facebook, madly trying to remember life back in Canada, trying to find that perfect place that I can go to, does it exist there? Yet status updates read like white middle class rantings of the conservative Christians – we love Jesus, sure, but we don’t want to be inconvenienced by well, anything. Perfect lives are disrupted by the few insidious things or beings. Judging, more judging. We’ve lost the bench mark for spewing our opinions.

I close it down in disgust. Sometimes the differences in my life feel so enormous. Where do I fit anymore?

I still eat, drink, commute grudgingly to the office, practice yoga in my studio flat… things are surprisingly the same as what life would be in Canada.

But I have moments, where I can’t get free of being different. And my values, culture and colour are glaringly opposite to the place I now call home.

What scares me the most? That despite it all – I still want to stay.

This has become my place in the world, as crazy as it seems. I am trying so hard to want to go back to Canada, but I know that Canada won’t make me happy. I need to be happy within myself.

I read this quote, even retweeted it, and have been mulling it over ever since:

“Anyone can hide. Facing up to things, working through them, that’s what makes you strong.” -Sarah Dessen

Still trying to sort out how it all adds up, to how these rantings become a life principle, how they change something in me.



  1. Siddarth

    They say you must follow your dreams, why would we do that? There are a few of us who do because we want to change our destiny. By changing our destiny we are impacting on people, we come accross, who would otherwise be quite happy to carry on with life as they know it. The question is, was there someting deep in your soul that made you follow your dream? Yes it was your connection to God who saw in you that there is a higher purpose that only you would be able to impart on others regardless of their being. No one said it would be an easy path but the mere fact you are on this path will bring you closer to Him and that in turn will release you from the cycle of life and death. What greater happiness is there?

  2. barqu

    What an interesting parable/experience of 1peter 2:11. By becoming so at home, yet still a foreigner in Botswana you are seeing us here in Canada from an outsider’s perspective with all our warts exposed. I understand how hard this could be, feeling rootless and without a “home” and I don’t have an easy response to this emotion. Part of any response is reminding you your home is where your family and friends are, but also that we can never be that comfortable this side of eternity. Those of us who are too comfortable here are lacking in the God-driveneness which impels you to make your world better in whatever ways you can.

    Be blessed friend, both by His Peace and His affliction, by which we share in Life. May I be afflicted to share in the growth you are being called to.

  3. Pingback: Pigeons, hot dogs and the breathe. | Back to Canada

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