Hold On

An Open Letter to the Trees of Washington D.C.

My dearest vegetation,

You cannot begin to understand how much I care for you. And that is why I have to say what is written here.

Now I know it is unusual for a mere human to be advising Mother Earth. There are so many lessons mankind can learn from the plants and animals. And what I have to say is not a lesson I have fully embraced myself. Yet I beg of you to please heed my words. I love you. A lot. And I deeply want to see you succeed, prosper, and eventually return the goodwill to myself, and the other humans that take time to notice and appreciate you. Which is why I beg of you to be patient.

Oh sweethearts, hold on to your precious petals! It is not time to bloom. I understand that it seems safe now. You feel that the circumstances are ripe for you to reveal your true beauty. But don’t give up your buds so easily. I am aware of forces that you are not, and thus I know that now is not an okay time to blossom. You see, while the air has been so mild upon your branches, and the soil a warm, nourishing soil, there is still the possibility of a freeze. And if you cannot wait to show your face, it will be coated in ice and die. Please wait. Know that I want to see you so bad, oh I do. But I want to see you healthy, alive, and thriving. So I want you to wait a little longer to greet me. Keep sleeping, learning from the earth, and growing my dears. And once the earth moves a bit closer to the sun, it will be safe to fully emerge. Cherished ones please wait.

Until then,

Hannah Ricks and Jessica Rodgers

For Now

Patience is not my thing.

Unfortunately, I inhabit a world where patience is not merely a virtue, but a requirement. So I am forced to continue struggling against personal expectations that I live in a world where I already have friends, the capability of communication, the ability to cook, knowledge on running a start up non-profit in Africa, and other such vital skills. Until then, I sit on the squishy blue couch, in my cool home and listen to the crickets, birds, children, buses, birds, children and crickets as the day begins and ends in Kigali and do research. And this is strangely liberating. I have the freedom and the ability to read whatever articles I want, for however long I want, because there are no doctors appointments (fingers crossed), classes, coffee dates, or deadlines to meet.

But for now, I am grateful the gated home I live in and the three alternating guards who ensure my safety. The green lawn (I love green!) and ever faithful Gracie dog who inhabits the lawn. My choice of two bathrooms (one has water pressure, at the cost of temperature, the other warm water at the cost of water pressure), working stove, two refrigerators (that way I can keep moving my food around so as to stay entertained-or confused), bed net, bookshelf (complete with previously left books!) and the paper fireplace hanging on the wall (for a little taste of home).

I still have no means for obtaining cheese and lack a feeling of belonging and companionship. But if I have learned anything in the two days of literally sitting at work (Two desks, three people, two hours of literally just staring at the floor), it is why rush what will one day happen?