Adventurers Reunited
A love letter to being a little bit wild
When I was 28, an unexpected heartbreak hit me so hard that I decided I needed to move continents. Armed with my CV, I attended a job fair in London where teams from international schools waited on stands for nervous teachers to approach. I thought I might end up in Asia. Instead, I interviewed for schools in Turkey, San Francisco, and Tanzania.
The interviews took place in hotel rooms which was frankly bizarre. I perched on sofas next to freshly-made beds trying not to think about the fact that the people interviewing me had probably cleaned their teeth in their pants right here, a few hours before. I was nervous but determined and by the end of the second day, I had been offered a job in Arusha, Tanzania.
I’d spent a happy few months bouncing around East Africa with friends a few years before, ostensibly building schools, but the idea that I would be any good on a building site was completely laughable. The local builders in Uganda gave us tasks like, ‘Flatten this bit of ground with this tool’, while they did the much more difficult job of actually constructing buildings. I had loved Uganda, and Kenya, and all I knew of Tanzania was the island of Zanzibar... so obviously I loved that too.
Arusha was a place that somehow felt unfamiliar and like home at the same time. When I arrived in 2015, election year, power cuts were so frequent that solar lamps and candles became a must-have accessory. I was given a kitten. I taught many of my classes outside on the grass. I learnt about snakes and spiders, I drank beer like it was water, and every day felt alive with possibility and adventure.
It is difficult to explain how much living in Arusha changed me. Before, I had a very fixed idea of what my life should be—or at least of what a happy life looked like. Living in Tanzania took all my assumptions and shook them out of my pockets, ready to be trampled underfoot. I spent so much time outside, seeing amazing things, having fun with my friends. I was so lucky. I missed the place and the people so much when I left, although thankfully Farmer Joe lived there too, so we can always happily reminisce together, filling our home with kitenge and keepsakes, and teaching our kids some random bits of Swahili. (I drink less beer now though, and for that, my liver is thankful.)
At the beginning of the month, some dear friends from Arusha came to visit us at the farm. Last time we were together—six years ago!—we were still irresponsible and bonkers. Now we have four children between us. But we picked up the conversation and laughed our heads off as always, as though we were together only yesterday. And it was like a little bit of the wildness of Tanzania came with them, and we embraced it and let a bit of our wildness out too. The kids climbed trees and painted rocks and stripped off their clothes to play in their compost. The grown-ups remembered all the good times and made new memories together. It was a wonderful weekend. It was just so fun.
I realised that this is part of the reason I love the farm. We can be a bit wild in this place that we are slowly trying, not too hard, to tame. Somehow, even though it is work, it is also a respite from the responsibilities of being a grown-up. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the scale of the project. We dream up ideas for the future as though our to-do list isn’t already full. But we also take time to breathe in the wilds of nature and feel oh-so-grateful for this place we get to look after. Slowly, but surely.
Do you think our definition of ‘going wild’ inevitably shifts as we get older? Or are we all just the same mad teenagers we always were, searching for the right context to let out our nuttiness? Tell me, tell me, I must know.
Thank you to the lovely people who have bought me a cuppa! It means the world. If you feel inclined to brew me a cup of Yorkshire tea (milk, no sugar), click the button below:
Sorry just commenting again. YOU OWN A TRACTOR!!!!!!
YOU OWN A TRACTOR !!!!!!!!!