The question I hate the most and the question I get most often, are the same.
"Did you have fun?"
I surface a half-hearted smile and say, "Yeah, I did."
I hate the question so much because not only is it an assumption itself, but it brings forth my answer that has an array of assumptions tied to it. Don't get me wrong, I had lots of fun. I did super cool things and met crazy cool friends. But, it wasn't really about having fun.
For those of you who have known me for years, I was all about having fun. Let's go here, do this, do that, I was your girl. I was always up for a good time, and the party always seemed to find me. I had a slew of friends I spent most of my time with, and we made great memories. Lots and lots of fun memories, because that's what life was about for me. I hated disappointment and rejection, so I filled my time with as much fun as possible. Because if I spent all my time having fun, there was no room for worries or problems. This lifestyle worked for me for quite sometime. But towards the end of last summer my carefree spirit turned reckless. I had, had a fun filled summer under the sun with my sights set on September when I would leave for South Africa. I left in a whirlwind it seemed like. I hadn't spent enough time with some people, and others I had left heartbroken in the wake of all the "fun" I had enjoyed. Even with that realization though, I wrote it all off as fine. I was going to spend the next seven months with extraordinary people, in extraordinary places, doing extraordinary fun things. And I did do those things, in those places, with those people. I bungee jumped, I saw the Tag Mahal, I rode elephants and camels, and I played with baby tigers. But when I'm asked if I had fun, those aren't the scenes that flash through my mind as I search for that half-hearted smile.
I think about the fire ants that covered my hands while I cussed in a british accent, the talks I had with Ellen over rice, and the group showers I took in a river. I think about the nights I had to drag Janelle from our mat on the floor to brush our teeth in the thirty degree darkness. I think about the awarding struggle of teaching Anjali to read a five word sentence, and the language barrier between you and the tuk-tuk driver you just hope knows where he is going. I think of my walks in Kwanokuthula, my discussions with Anya in the clinic, and the glimmer of pure hope in a HIV patient's eyes.
I didn't go to have fun. That's not what it's about for me anymore. And its been a struggle to keep that realization alive everyday since I've been home. It scares me how easy it has become for me to be consumed by the things my world used to revolve around. I've slipped into old habits and found myself seeking comfort in the places I used to find it. The mess I thought I left behind in September, is the same mess I've come home to in April. At first I thought I'd forgotten how to have fun, but then I realized I've only redefined it. While I was gone I found that fun only really happens when you're happy and doing what you love. Which has forced me to do some evaluating on who and what I love. Some things I've loved for years, and others I've only recently discovered. Some relationships have not changed, while with others I might just be too late. I made the mistake of revolving my life around fun last summer, and I made the same mistake only a few weeks ago. It's a mistake of thinking for even just a second that I'd find happiness in a cluster of fun times. Happiness can only be found in the words, tears, smiles, and arms of the people you love.
Well, all of that to say, the next time you ask if I had fun...you'll know what I mean with that half-hearted smile.
"Did you have fun?"
I surface a half-hearted smile and say, "Yeah, I did."
I hate the question so much because not only is it an assumption itself, but it brings forth my answer that has an array of assumptions tied to it. Don't get me wrong, I had lots of fun. I did super cool things and met crazy cool friends. But, it wasn't really about having fun.
For those of you who have known me for years, I was all about having fun. Let's go here, do this, do that, I was your girl. I was always up for a good time, and the party always seemed to find me. I had a slew of friends I spent most of my time with, and we made great memories. Lots and lots of fun memories, because that's what life was about for me. I hated disappointment and rejection, so I filled my time with as much fun as possible. Because if I spent all my time having fun, there was no room for worries or problems. This lifestyle worked for me for quite sometime. But towards the end of last summer my carefree spirit turned reckless. I had, had a fun filled summer under the sun with my sights set on September when I would leave for South Africa. I left in a whirlwind it seemed like. I hadn't spent enough time with some people, and others I had left heartbroken in the wake of all the "fun" I had enjoyed. Even with that realization though, I wrote it all off as fine. I was going to spend the next seven months with extraordinary people, in extraordinary places, doing extraordinary fun things. And I did do those things, in those places, with those people. I bungee jumped, I saw the Tag Mahal, I rode elephants and camels, and I played with baby tigers. But when I'm asked if I had fun, those aren't the scenes that flash through my mind as I search for that half-hearted smile.
I think about the fire ants that covered my hands while I cussed in a british accent, the talks I had with Ellen over rice, and the group showers I took in a river. I think about the nights I had to drag Janelle from our mat on the floor to brush our teeth in the thirty degree darkness. I think about the awarding struggle of teaching Anjali to read a five word sentence, and the language barrier between you and the tuk-tuk driver you just hope knows where he is going. I think of my walks in Kwanokuthula, my discussions with Anya in the clinic, and the glimmer of pure hope in a HIV patient's eyes.
I didn't go to have fun. That's not what it's about for me anymore. And its been a struggle to keep that realization alive everyday since I've been home. It scares me how easy it has become for me to be consumed by the things my world used to revolve around. I've slipped into old habits and found myself seeking comfort in the places I used to find it. The mess I thought I left behind in September, is the same mess I've come home to in April. At first I thought I'd forgotten how to have fun, but then I realized I've only redefined it. While I was gone I found that fun only really happens when you're happy and doing what you love. Which has forced me to do some evaluating on who and what I love. Some things I've loved for years, and others I've only recently discovered. Some relationships have not changed, while with others I might just be too late. I made the mistake of revolving my life around fun last summer, and I made the same mistake only a few weeks ago. It's a mistake of thinking for even just a second that I'd find happiness in a cluster of fun times. Happiness can only be found in the words, tears, smiles, and arms of the people you love.
Well, all of that to say, the next time you ask if I had fun...you'll know what I mean with that half-hearted smile.
