June 12, 2026

In the lead up to departure, time moves fast and slow. There is a rhythm, almost a ritual, to my summer sojourn. First, tidying up my workspace at the university and bringing the houseplants home to be cared for by friends. Then, packing for the warm temperatures and long days of hiking and driving between Colorado and California, with road trip luggage carefully separated from the bags I’ve prepared for three months of winter in Eastern Africa. When it all comes together—when the checklist is complete, the house is cleaned and secured, the car is loaded, and the dog is waiting for the engine to start—there is a kind of resolution, like the final note in a symphony.

But this is really only the beginning of the next movement. It marks the closing of one season so I can embrace the next. The reality of loving two places on opposite sides of the globe requires me to be comfortable holding bittersweet emotions. It means trying to live fully in every moment rather than dwelling on what I am missing out on in one place while I'm in the other.

For me, the next movement of my annual symphony is ushered in with the bumpy landing of a heavily laden plane on a short, dark runway in Tanzania. This year, I arrived on the night of Wednesday, August 10th, along with 23 other students from around the United States. Representing all educational levels and a diverse mix of cultural backgrounds and academic majors, we are the 2026 cohort of the Critical Language Scholarship’s Swahili program.

We were selected for this rare opportunity to participate in language immersion and cultural exchange because of how it aligns with our educational and career trajectories. It is important to the U.S. government to maintain good relations in East Africa by cultivating future professionals who will serve as “citizen diplomats.” Though only a few of us are considering careers in civil service, all of us have a reason why learning Swahili will be important to our career path.

After I type this, I will go home to the small duplex where I live with my host family. It is whitewashed concrete, with a corrugated metal roof. Inside, there is one common room. Three bedrooms open to this, along with a small kitchen and bathroom. This modest space of around 500 square feet is shared by two or three other women and one or two small children, all of whom have generously welcomed me into their lives. Outside of the enclosed courtyard, where the corrugated metal gate is painted bright blue, banana and papaya trees reach into the visible patch of sky. Just beyond the gate, a rocky dirt track leads to a broader dirt road that connects to the nearest paved road—my route to and from school.

All CLS students attend MS-TCDC—a facility established more than five decades ago by Action Aid Denmark to facilitate and build capacity for sustainable development in Tanzania and across Africa. At any one time, the scenic campus may be hosting multiple language courses, professional development training, meetings on international affairs, residential students enrolled in one of two degree-granting programs, and tourists renting on-site lodging. It is a fascinating crossroads of people and cultures, and I am excited to see what the next eight weeks here will hold.

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.