LOVE LETTERS TO TANZANIA: Important life lessons from nature

Most days, we take everything for granted, from clean drinking water and regular meals to peace, health, family, or the extra dollars to spend on endeavours such as recreation and spoiling our children. Generally, these are not our happiest days.

Instead, we are most cheerful when fully aware of the indulgences we can afford, pleasures we can choose and opportunities we have. Happiness sneaks in when we take time to reflect upon the enjoyable choices we are free to make, and upon every blessing we easily forget to acknowledge in our busy lives.

I have just spent 48 hours counting blessings, indulging in the luxury of taking a break from work and city living – from it all, really. Throwing some belongings into my little car and heading to the coast, I became human again. How lucky I am to own a reliable car which enables such choices!

Remote areas with limited connectivity are the perfect excuse to ignore emails, calls and “urgent” messages which seem like “pressing issues” in the city but lose their command when the recipient is walking through the forest or staring at the ocean, celebrating simply being alive.

The weather was kind to us, so we could roam free and enjoy nature’s gifts while the tension of the typical work-life imbalance distorting our view of reality began to ease. Issues hotly debated and matters loudly lamented in the city started to fade away as we were sitting in the sand, watching the waves roll in and the sea birds catch their prey.

The ocean does not discriminate; it teaches everyone willing to listen about their own insignificance in the great scheme of things. But it also welcomes everyone, regardless of their place in our artificial social hierarchies.

As an educator, I could not help but notice the ways in which parents seem to interact with their children when outdoors, away from mobile phones and other electronic devices. There is a sense of calm and focus when families take walks together and discover nature’s little treasures along the way. Even fashion-conscious teenagers appear less focused on superficialities when working up a sweat walking through the woods.

Maybe age is catching up with me or reminiscing about my own childhood is clouding my judgement, but I was silently praising each and every parent who chose the simplicity of quality family time, even though they can most likely afford more luxurious holidays. Life will reward them for this choice, I believe, as overindulged children do not grow up to be the happiest adults, contrary to popular belief.

The games children play on Australia’s Ninety Mile Beach do not differ much from those of children at Coco Beach, in Jambiani or Tanga. They foster creativity and fitness. Beach football is as popular in Bwejuu, Stone Town, Kigamboni or Muyuni Beach as it is it along Australia’s coastline. Some kids are better at building model boats; others’ sand castles and fortresses are architectural masterpieces – until the tide washes them away.

Sand, water and companionship appear to be the main ingredients for fun and laughter-filled hours for youngsters of all socio-economic backgrounds and cultures around the world.

The main difference between beach loving youngsters in various regions of the globe is the life to which they return after sunset. For some Zanzibari children, it is a reality of malnutrition and parental struggles. For many of the more privileged youngsters I observed, it is games consoles, television and junk food overindulgence. Their parents’ privilege and ability to buy meaningless luxuries has the potential to inspire a life of obesity and competitive, self-centred pleasure-seeking.

So, my fellow privileged citizens, do you also return from visiting your relatives in the village to your city luxuries with mixed feelings about your prosperity… remembering how little is needed to experience moments of pure happiness? Do you also feel motivated to cut back a little and share more?