African Perspectives on Programs for North American Students in Africa: The Experience of the University of Zimbabwe

Abstract

About three and half months before I left for Zimbabwe, I went to one of those parties where you only know the friend you came with. I ended up talking to a well-traveled guy wearing a striped wool scarf. At some point, I mentioned I was leaving for Zimbabwe in not so very long. This guy looked straight at me, his eyes big with suspicion over the stripes, and asked me exactly what good I thought the trip would do me. So I told him I was going to study women and literature; I outlined my whole approved proposal. And I told him what a great opportunity it would be. But he was looking more and more disdainful, and I mumbled to a stop. Listen to me, he said, I've traveled just about everywhere you can go, and some places you aren't even legally allowed. And the one thing I learned was that no matter how far you go or how long you stay away, it's all really the same. One day you'll get sick of it and come back to the good old USA where the only thing left to do will be to sit in your armchair and watch the world go by. And if you know all that, there's really no point in bothering to leave in the first place. I bid him adieu very impolitely. I didn't really know what traveling abroad would be like. But if there was one thing I knew, it was that this guy wasn't speaking for me. Having returned from Zimbabwe with ties like steel cable trailing after me, I know that there are many reasons to leave the comfort of the Lazy Boy and head out into the world. Unfortunately, the attitude that the party guy represents is not uncommon. I have found myself defensively