Seven billion vs seven

This week, the seven billionth child was born. 7 billion – a number that I can’t even put in to context. That’s like the entire UK population x 112. What’s even more astounding, is that each one of us is so different – unique fingerprints, heights, weights, hair and even though some of us may grow up in the same place, same schools, our lives will turn out totally different. We often tend to judge the success of our lives by looking at how much of a difference our life has made to other people. If we died tomorrow, how would that impact the people around us? Would it change the world in any way at all?

This week, one man’s fate was sort of put in to my hands. While this may be dramatizing the situation a bit, for a little while, it certainly felt like that. Doctors and health care professionals seem to think that life is in their hands. So there I was, two months in to my pre-registration year, trying to decide or help sway the decision to give a man with the worst form of brain tumour possible, a slightly expensive chemotherapy agent. Slightly expensive being about £200 per treatment, which is what a lot of us could probably spend on a day out in Bicester Village, on a new phone or on a holiday. Studies showed that the treatment is effective, but only for a few months or so. The endpoint is going to be death. The question then arises as to whether or not it’s really worth it. Aside from the cost aspect, no chemotherapy treatment is a walk in the park and I wish that no one would have to go through that.

For as long as I can remember, the one thing that really frustrates me about myself is my indecision - the constant conflict between emotion and knowledge. With so many things in life, your instinct will be pointing you in the right direction because truthfully, deep down, you know that the outcome won’t be what you want. But then there’s that hope, that trust, that faith and that thought that just maybe, maybe things will go the way you wish they would. The way that in your dreams the story plays out. David Borenstein sums this up quite well - “Feelings are not supposed to be logical. Dangerous is the man who has rationalized his emotions.” Unfortunately, I think everyone of us, at some point becomes dangerous, me more so than others.

So, even with a decision that was about to impact a man’s life, I sat there in confusion and distress. I had done the research, the treatment would give him a few more months. What more was there to it? I could just move on with my life. But, there I sat, staring at my screen, thinking about how this man was my mom’s age. If it were my mom, would I even think about the cost, the side effects or If it was worth it for only a few more months of life? Wouldn’t I fight for every extra second I could get? Unfortunately, that’s not the way the world works. It’s selfish. And while that may be the wiser, easier, way to live, I’m not sure that’s the way I want to be. I get attached and care for almost everyone that crosses my path, and more often than not, that doesn’t work out well for me… especially since I work in a hospital. I know that in time, I won’t feel anything for the patient suffering in front of me or for the family weeping over a loss. While that makes me a little sad, I know I need to accept the reality of life and my profession. Although many will say how important it is to follow your heart, sometimes it’s just as important to listen to your mind. Instead of thinking about how to change and impact the world of seven billion, that time and effort should be spent on the seven that mean the most to you and that you mean the most to. 

A Nostalgic Village Girl

Recently, I’ve spent a lot of time drowning in a tidal wave of emotions: sadness, anxiety, thankfulness, fear and pure delight. I remember, almost four years ago now, feeling somewhat the same way but I never found a term to express and describe it. Yesterday however, Robin Scherbatsky from ‘How I Met Your Mother’ shed light on this situation by using the term “graduation goggles.” As Barney would say, it was simply “legen-wait for it –dary!” Graduation goggles describes how just when something, like university is coming to an end, everything seems…rosy and perfect. The countless all nighters, constant swearing at lecturers and millions of times that the jubilee line has broken down on the way to Waterloo all start to fade. The images replacing those are of the laughs during long and lazy lunches in the canteen, the days of skipping lectures to lie in and then have a girly day out with shopping and ice cream and of course the idea that in a few months, you will, hopefully be graduating.

It’s intriguing watching how everyone is feeling the same way – emotional emails and Facebook statuses, camera flashes everywhere and a feeling of attachment between us all that has never been this strong. Coming from school where some classes only had six people to a lecture with over one hundred people was rather overwhelming. Despite this, in four years, I have gotten to know most people made friends that are practically the siblings I never had. I know that there are people that I can call at 3am, who will wake me up everyday so I can at least attempt to make a 9am lecture and that I know will still be in my life 10 years from now.

My mom always says to me, “it will pass.” No matter what context you use that phrase in, it’s always true. Nothing in life is constant, in fact change is the only constant. It’s always important to remember that the good, the bad, the ups and the downs will pass and when things are ending, the goggles will come on. The bad will all of a sudden look good and the good won’t seem all that good anymore. First year revision seems like a red velvet cupcake compared to this year while at the time, it was as though I was trying to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. I’m sure in one years time, a lot of us will be feeling similar emotions when we’re about the take our pre registration exam. Regardless, there is a lot for us all to look forward to as we take our first steps in to the reality of life: working and doing CPD, being responsible and of course developing ourselves as people.  In any case, when you look back from the end of the road, it’ll all seem almost insignificant compared to where you’re currently standing… 

Village Girl No More?

In today’s world, we’re all drowning in varied media forms. Everywhere you go, everywhere you look, you’re being sold something - an image, a product or a lifestyle. Theres a constant underlying message that you what you have and do isn’t good enough because theres always going to be something staring you in the face that you don’t have or can’t do. I, like everyone else, can spend hours, probably days just watching TV. In essence, many reality shows are just a waste of time but their popularity indicates otherwise. Why is it that we can spend hours watching how “society girls” in LA and New York go shopping in exclusive boutiques, sip on low fat, no cream cappuccinos and very intently discuss the latest boy drama that has taken over their lives? At times, I wish my life was oh so simple and wonder what it would be like to spend a few days in the midst of all their luxury. But also, I secretly snigger in delight at the thought that millions of people aren’t there to watch my every blond moment, accidental trip and other general stupidity (those of you that know me, know that there are a lot of these).

So, here we are in the 21st century, where basically anything goes - teenagers happy slapping, being on camera almost everywhere you go and having piercings that cover your entire face. And yet, so many of us spend our time wanting and trying to be something we’re not, trying to be normal and generally fitting in. But being normal lacks everything - individuality, courage, independence and faith. This isn’t to say that we should all try our hardest to be an extreme, just that the little things that define and differentiate you from the other 6,697,254,041 people in the world are things you should treasure and publicize. It’s much easier to hold back, quietly smiling and blending into the walls. In some ways, I envy these reality stars who are confident and fearless when letting strangers into their most intimate moments. They handle the bright lights, constant criticism and judgment and don’t let it get in their way. I used to be so conscious and fearful of the words and thoughts of others but i’ve come to realize that success or failure, the only opinions that matter are your own and of those you love.

Despite spending the majority of my life in Dar and knowing that my roots will always be there, I’ve started to feel that a bigger part of me has blossomed in England. When I first came, people laughed curiously at my “funny” American accent, words like “sawa” and “basi” and couldn’t understand why I felt so cold when it supposedly a warm autumn day. Three years on, those unique features have slowly faded away and rather when I go back home, it’s my slightly awkward British accent with words like “init” and “bare” thats commented on. Although the general response would be to laugh and brush it off, it got me thinking about society’s conforms. The general expectation is that you blend in to wherever it is you are, just enough not be unnoticed but enough to be accepted. Cliched as it may be, it’s not about adapting to the media, to your community or anything else, it’s about being yourself and being proud of it. Now I know that no matter where I go and confused as I may be, village girl or not, this is who I am.

Village Girl Walking in Big City Shoes

Diversity, in all its forms stares us in the face, every moment of everyday. From the very first step that you take out of your house, differences in your neighboring houses, plants, cars, people, shoes loom before us. But in our hustle bustle and constant rush to get to places, all of these small, seemingly insignificant pixels don’t even make it into the frame. I wake up each morning thinking that its way too cold and way too early, that I’m already running ten minutes late, who I’m hoping to see in my day and how I’ve done too much shopping but still have so much to buy.

On one of my infinite tube rides, I began looking around at the immense amount of people and how no two people were in any way at all, similar. It was intriguing how people’s styles, moods, colors were so different. As I watched, I realized that those not sleeping or reading, were also looking around, watching others in their boredom. It made me wonder what everyone’s story was, especially those who looked like they just didn’t belong in the London underground because they looked too happy and smiled at the people around them or because they were dressed oddly or simply because they looked lost. It got me wondering if I looked like that, as though I didn’t belong. Living in a foreign country, in the simplest term, is confusing. For me, London and Dar, are like oil and water, total opposites. Yet here I am, with one foot on each side, trying to stay up straight. This balancing act can be tedious and rather emotional. It’s always wishing that you were at home, feeling safe and comforted, with the people that mean the most to you but at the same time wanting to be exactly where you are, living your own life. Its finding comfort in anyone who can actually relate to you and feeling slight envy and annoyance at those who insincerely sympathize and then go home to their families.

Looking around the tube made me think about how insignificant I was, let alone my measly problems and emotions. We are all always so lost in our own thoughts and own lives and own problems that we forget how much there is to appreciate. When a natural disaster strikes, that we hear about on the news, we feel sadness and empathize but the reality of the immenseness of the world and our roles in the world, outside of our little bubbles, conveniently slip to the back of our minds once the TV is switched off. Sometimes its important to try and look at your life from someone else’s eyes or try and walk in somebody else’s shoes, to keep you grounded and let you focus on the whole frame rather than the minor blemishes.

The Village Girl

Every year almost everyone waits for that one day when everything is all about them, and all of sudden when the clock strikes twelve, they’re magically one whole year older. From your parents’ excitement at your first birthday, to the coolness of becoming part of the double digit world and then the dread of entering your twenties and realizing that life as young, carefree, fun loving kid is drawing to a close. For some of you, turning twenty may seem decades away but in reality, as clichéd as it may sound, it literally passes within the blink of an eye. But when is it that we actually realize that its time to grow up?

Maybe it’s when you graduate from high school and you think that now the world is nothing but possibilities and that you know exactly what you’re doing. Or maybe it’s on your first day at university, stepping into that massive place all on your own and being recognized as your own person rather than your parents’ child. For me, it took moving homes, changing continents, losing a loved one to cancer, learning to live on my own and on top of all that, two whole years to realize that I actually grew up on the very first day.

The thing is that when you first start at university, there’s this buzz all around you, because just like you, thousands of freshers are lost, overwhelmed and ecstatic. You’re not really sure what university has to offer; how much work you need to do and what exactly you want to get out of your experience there, so you follow the crowd. I didn’t do what I wanted to because I was too busy jumping on the bandwagon. Don’t get me wrong, its not that being shepherded didn’t have its perks, it’s just that I didn’t really get the chance to explore and discover myself. By the time I was in my second year, thanking God immensely that I had made it through, that first year buzz was back but I actively chose to make changes. I spent more time with those that had filtered through the many acquaintances and shown me what true friendship is. But a few days ago, I found that I was asking myself how I could move on from being the lost, new girl from the “village” of Dar es Salaam to the much changed girl with new hair and a new outlook and finally to being a well rounded young lady.

It’s now that I realized that I needed to walk through all those open doors and all those opportunities that were just waiting for me. The thing is, although it may seem pretty obvious, being at university isn’t just about holding a scroll at your graduation gown four years later. It’s everything that leads to that one day when it’ll all be over. Age isn’t merely a number, it’s who you really are, who you pretend to be, how you act and most of all it’s why you change each year because it’s only when that clock strikes twelve that you realize how you’ve really grown…