Remember the time when I wrote about how Sam and I struggled in our own way, explaining our long-distance relationship to our families and friends? For Sam, while his family had no serious objections to us being together, most of his friends doubted that I was ever coming back to Tanzania, and some thought I wasn’t even real. But I suppose Sam wasn’t easily swayed by other people’s opinion, because I didn’t turn out to be the “player” some of his friends predicted me to be. Actually, one of the first stops we met the day after I arrived, was to see one of his good friends, Julius. Buckling my…

Have you ever been separated from someone you loved for an extended amount of time, and then when you meet again, it was as though it were only a day since you last saw them? While the waiting was long and gruelling, being reunited somehow made everything instantly bearable. I like to compare my long-distance relationship with Sam to coming home. For me, when I go somewhere, especially to a new destination, the journey there would always seem excruciatingly long. But when I take the same route home, essentially going the same distance, the journey then becomes so effortless, and before I know it, I am home again. This was…

When I arrived home in Canada and unpacked my bags, every item I bought from Tanzania reminded me of Sam and the idea of him and I together began to grow on me. And, for those of you who don’t know me, I am a big romantic at heart. For some reason, I always thought that I’d have a truly spectacular love story to tell my kids—and this was likely due to the fact that my parents had a pretty amazing story of their own (this merits its own separate post, so perhaps another time!). So, while the likelihood of me ending up with a guide that I met in…

Before I made my way to Athens, I had layovers in Addis Ababa and Istanbul. And although it’s been less than 24 hours, I already felt an urge to check my e-mail to see if Sam had sent me anything, as he promised he would. When I was connected to a stable WI-FI at Addis, sure enough, I find a message from him. The email was very brief—short and sweet—and I thought to myself—“This is crazy,” and then sat down and wrote a reply. Back in college, I had a lenghty crush on a guy who was on the other side of Canada, and for the longest time, the new…

If someone had asked me on that day what was going through my mind during the drive to the airport, I would tell them that I was so focused on talking to Sam, making the most of our conversation, that I hadn’t really thought about the “afterwards”. And who plans a future with a person they’ve met only a handful of times, especially with someone who was a thousand miles away? You’d have to be deliriously crazy to want to do that, right? Well, shortly after Sam dropped me off at the airport, I found myself bewilderedly stuck in that category. To this day, I am not sure what was…

It took me awhile to fall asleep, seeing how unexpected my last night in Tanzania had turned out. I only had one beer at the party and technically only half, since Sam accidentally spilled half of the content on me. And I was still thinking about what a great time I had and feeling simultaneously anxious and jittery about seeing him again later. Somewhere between my ambivalence and the anticipation of my Europe trip, I dozed off to sleep. When I awoke, I remember feeling extremely well-rested, and a bit jittery, for two reasons; one, my big Europe trip was about to begin, and second—I was going to meet Sam…

When I joined Greg and Sam, they each had a beer in their hand, a proudly Tanzanian brew that was quite popular—aptly branded as ‘Kilimanjaro’. They were both laughing at something when I stepped into this familiar circle, and Sam said something like—“You’re here!” with a wide grin on his face. I remember we all stood there and chatted for a while, and then Greg gallantly offered to get us both a round of beers on him. When he left, I didn’t recall any awkward silence, but rather that our conversation just flowed naturally. And while the content escapes me now, I still vividly recall the “feeling” of being very much…

It was the last night before I was going to leave for Addis Ababa and connect to Istanbal, where I’d then fly to Athens to meet up with my friend and co-worker Emily. My very last night in Tanzania. We were planning this vacation since the winter months in Vancouver, a most exciting itinerary for two single women in their 20s. We had steady government jobs (although I was quitting mine), neither of us dating, and we were saving up to make this Europe trip worthwhile. Every day, promptly at 4pm, as soon as we logged out of our work computers, we’d stride out of our building and into the…