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Travel opens new worlds

By Isabelle Southcott
POWELL RIVER (BC) PEAK

This is the last column I'll write before heading off to Tanzania. I've been told that Africa will change me, that I'll see things differently, think differently.

I believe it. I know I'll learn and see more than I can possibly imagine and that it will be a wonderful experience. My world will be expanded. I'll see through new eyes.

What little I know about Africa and its people both interests and saddens me. My knowledge has mainly been gleaned through reports by the international media. People dying, people starving, people fighting and people killing.

But there are also stories of resilient people and ones of hope.

It's terrible enough to read what's happening, but to actually witness something is another thing.

Seeing is believing, so they say.

I did a bit of travelling BK (before kids). Across Canada, backpacking through Europe, Asia, Australia, New Zealand and the United States. I learned a lot by travelling. I learned about countries, cultures and people. I also learned about myself.

I discovered how little I really need to live. I learned to enjoy my own company, to be resourceful, and how important it is to keep my wits about me at all times.

These days, my travelling is extremely limited. Most of it takes place around here or through National Geographic. It's not because I don't want to travel; it has to do with a lack of disposable income. I remember the knowing looks my husband Derek and I exchanged last summer when we boarded the ferry for Texada Island. Our kids were so excited by the prospect of "travelling" to Texada to go camping. In their minds, this was a big trip.

I'm looking forward to Africa, but I'm also somewhat apprehensive. The Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) has made it possible for me and another journalist from Ontario to travel to Tanzania for two weeks to visit several of their projects. We'll be meeting with Canadian and African journalists, visiting a refugee camp along the Burundi border, visiting an AIDS hospice, and a school.

I'll take pictures, make notes and when I'm back, I'll tell you all about it.

The adventurer in me is excited, but the mom in me is worried. How will my children manage without me? Will my husband and my parents be able to do everything I do?

Will Derek pack lunches that our oldest son likes? Will he limit their TV viewing? Will they get to their lessons on time? Will they be prepared? Will he remember that our youngest son needs blankie and lambie in his bed at night?

I hope my own husband is more resourceful than my father was when I was a kid. I still remember when my mom went to England to look after my grandmother before she died and Dad had to look after us. He cooked a huge package of spaghetti noodles one night. Being the frugal man that he is, he didn't throw the leftovers out, but reheated them night after night until they was gone. We had a standing joke in our house at the time: "White worms for supper again," my sister would announce. When the white worms were gone Dad cooked Hamburger Helper. I think we tried every flavour of Hamburger Helper ever invented. Boy were we glad when Mom got back!

I asked a friend who has been to Africa several times if she ever worries about travelling, about what could happen. "Of course I do," she said. "But there's nothing I can do. I just pack my suitcase and leave all my worries behind. I trust God to look after the rest."

I liked her answer. I liked her answer so much that I'm going to do exactly the same.

Peak reporter Isabelle Southcott is the mother of two boys, Matthew and Alexander.

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(626 words)

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