It has been a hell of a week. There’s no other way to explain what it’s like to finish the CLS Swahili program. I’m still struggling to believe that in seven short days, I’ve completed an eight-page paper on wildlife management in Tanzania, made a nine-minute presentation to an audience of about 30 peers and teachers, completed a forty-minute Oral Proficiency Interview to receive an official ACTFL rating of my oral comprehension and speaking skills, and taken a two-hour comprehensive exam.
All entirely in Swahili.
I’ve also slept little, studied a lot, and walked or run over 24 miles between exercise breaks and my daily transit in a car-free life. And somehow, I made it through, even though I was really pushing up against my breaking point. We all made it through.
I’m laying awake in the pre-dawn light of my last morning in Usa River and it feels strange to not have anywhere to be. Until five minutes ago, I didn’t even have a hotel reservation for tonight.
For the past two months, nearly every day of my life has been scripted for me. Every student is given a detailed schedule mapping out 20 hours in class, 3 hours with language partners, at least 2 hours of meetings and teacher consultations, and 2-16 hours of cultural immersion activities every week. There are fixed meal times and breaks. There are two hours of homework every day. There are requirements to stay with our host families every night between certain hours, unless we request prior approval for specific travel days. There are no excused absences from program activities due to the intense pacing and the difficulty of making up for any missed instruction. As a full-grown and independent adult, this level of rigidity has been its own challenge, but I understood the nature of the program when I accepted this opportunity.
And now, here I am, on the brink of a new adventure…one in which I’m entirely in control of the schedule, and entirely responsible for the outcomes. Today, I begin the first leg of my journey toward setting up a new field research site.
Over the past two months, my “second job” has been preparing for this moment. While other students went sightseeing or visited the city of Arusha together after class, I mostly stayed behind. The scenic MS-TCDC campus and a few local cafes and lodges have been my working sanctuaries, and I’m grateful to live in a host community where these kinds of peaceful spaces built around nature are accessible.
Over the past eight weeks, I’ve renewed all three of my government-mandated research and residency permits. I’ve navigated two meetings and multiple communications with the Immigration Department in Swahili. I've written to the Permanent Secretary of the Regional Administration and Local Government Office in Swahili. And I’m only waiting for confirmation that my final letter of introduction is in my email before hopping on a long-distance bus to start my fieldwork.
Today, it’s time to pull up my mosquito net at my host family's home. To signal that I’m moving on, and this bed is open again. It’s a practical action — it makes cleaning the room much easier — but one that almost feels like an emotional ritual for me. I’m accepting that I’m not anchored here anymore. I’m looking down the road again to the next destination. And beautifully, this is captured in the Swahili language.
In Swahili, to add “ni” to the end of a noun describing place (conceptual or physical) is to make it a specific destination. A place that holds meaning. A place you can move towards or away from.
The generic term for city, “mji,” turns into “the city” you are going to with this small but powerful suffix (mjini). You can also describe the beginning (mwanzoni) and end (mwishoni) of a period of time, or a program like CLS.
But most poetically, a road itself can be a destination. "Barabara" becomes barabarani: the road I am traveling. Twende! (Let's go!)
There's nothing like a barefoot river crossing to start the week off right.
I never grow tired of the towering old trees here, and the sense of permanence they bring.
Final visits to some favorite spots got me through the week.
The "paper plate award" from my peers might be cooler than my official certificate from MS-TCDC.
I'm excited for the road ahead, but I'll miss this place.
To join me on this journey, you can follow along with new posts in the Field Notes blog on this website or LinkedIn. I am in Tanzania on a Critical Language Scholarship for Summer 2026. My research is currently supported by the Center for Human-Carnivore Coexistence, a P.E.O. Scholar Award, and a Center for Collaborative Conservation Fellowship. I am actively fundraising for the next phase of my research, and welcome referrals to funders who are interested in supporting work on global challenges including human-wildlife conflict, poverty alleviation, biodiversity conservation, and the impacts of a changing climate on all of these issues.