by Ayda Özeren
PDG 2023-24
Cadre of Technical Advisor of Rotary Foundation
I never expected a journey to transform me profoundly. It all began with a single sentence that buried itself into my depths during the very first moments of the trip.
As I settled in for a seven-hour flight, searching for something to watch, a film jumped out at me. It was unassuming, with a modest IMDb score and a title I had never heard before: The Life of Chuck. With no prior knowledge, I let myself drift into the story. And drift I did—deep into the poetry of Walt Whitman, the film’s reverse-chronological narrative, and its poignant way of questioning life.
“I contain multitudes…”
These words from Whitman describe the multifaceted nature of a human being and our inherent internal contradictions.
None of us are just one thing. We don’t have a single identity; instead, we are a vast MULTITUDE collection of different emotions, thoughts, responsibilities, and paradoxes.
"I am large, I contain multitudes."
I sat with this thought for a long time. Years ago, the title of my own book echoed this exact sentiment: I was "few" but I was "many." I was a vast universe harboring a multitude within. But how much of this magnificent universe—with its clashing thoughts, its weaknesses, and its contradictions—did I truly master? How well did I know myself? My childhood, my loneliness, the rage I nurtured or let rot inside me, the love, the fears...
Before leaving, I had undergone numerous vaccinations and taken various medications and warnings to heart. As I tried to calm my fears at the start of this risky journey into the unknown, I wondered: how would I silence this awakening multitude within me?
In the dead of night, fueled by insomnia, overthinking, and a heavy brain fog born of these internal contradictions, I set foot on land that was entirely foreign to me.
The Volunteer’s Mirror
At this moment, I am a volunteer in Kenya. As soon as I stepped into the crowd, I became the "inevitable other" visually. I stand out; I feel every eye on me, despite not being a shy or introverted person.
Yet, I am welcomed with such warmth. I am embraced so fully. It feels as if everyone I meet is there specifically for me, having already thought of everything to make my life easier. Just like in the movie, where posters of "Chuck" are everywhere and everyone asks, "Who is Chuck?", I began to feel like the protagonist of a film I started and created myself.
I am here, adding even more to my "multitudes." What followed was a state of pure "emotional millionaire ship."
Lessons from the Red Dust
I am learning, experiencing, and living.
I am witnessing forgotten lives, children who do not grow, untreatable diseases, and the absence of running water. I see the flies buzzing with sickness, balls made of rags, and girls pregnant at childhood age. I see the fear in the eyes of thousands of orphaned children—but also the butterfly effect of a tiny smile shared with them. I see how every moment spent with them is sanctified, and the profound sense of gratitude found in total lack.
I witnessed the reality of clothes sent for aid being sold, the longing for a cold drink, and the sheer luxury of clean water from a shower. I felt the hygiene of every bite I took and the way the red dust of the unpaved roads stained my skin.
I saw the tireless effort of teachers, the desperation of doctors, the struggle of women, and the exhaustion of men. I saw humanity that money cannot change, the nobility of the helpers, and the truest form of hospitality. I lived the boundlessness of sharing, the magnitude of courage, and the power of kindness.
The Cosmic Self
It is impossible for me to point out on a map the remote corners of Kenya where I spent my week. It is just as difficult to describe deprivation, the poverty, and the lack of opportunity I encountered. It is hard to comprehend when the injustices of this world reached such a scale.
The air, climate, geography, and people of Africa have left a deep mark on me. I am no longer just "me."
Now I feel deeply Rotarian who is just trying to serve above self.
I contain multitudes. It is as if I have become a cosmic self, with all universes hidden within.
As Walt Whitman wrote in Song of Myself:
"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, hoping to cease not till death."
