To be sure that we are able to create a book for Silvanos's family that exhibits the breadth and depth of Silvanos's impact upon each of us we have changed the "due date" for your reflections to the 12th of January. We hope this will give you a better amount of time to reflect, compose and share your personal thoughts.
You can still send them along to jesseabroad@hotmail.com
Asante sana.
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I was devastated to hear that Silvanos had died, especially since I had been in contact with him less than a week earlier, as probably many of you were as well. It’s uncommon, really, to meet someone with whom you develop a friendship that you know will last a lifetime. I certainly felt that way with Silvanos.
The following is why he was special to me.
Committing to the CFSIA program was not an easy decision for me; I was desperate to go, but well aware of the looming age disparity since I was many years older than the other students. The lure to go was too great and I decided to take the chance. I shouldn’t have worried since it ended up being one the greatest experiences of my life; however, there was no guarantee for success those first few days in Africa.
Fortunately for me, I had a guardian angel in Africa and his name was Silvanos. That first day I arrived he walked up to me, took my hand, looked into my eyes and immediately fell in love with me, as he was apt to do with everyone. I think out of anyone in the program he recognized my unique position and decided to look out for me, which he continued to do up until the day the program ended.
We all know that he was incredibly bright, knowledgeable and an excellent and willing teacher, but I wonder if we reflect on the other qualities he exuded, the less tangible ones that made me think at times that he existed in a higher state of grace than the rest of us.
I had a secret in Kibale. Everyday I would sneak off behind the furthest barracks and sit and wait for the baboons while the other students enjoyed each other’s company. I knew that’s where the baboon track was located, where they entered the compound, and I knew the best time of day when I would most likely see them. I wanted to be alone and observe the reaction of the baboons to my presence. No one knew about my little secret, no one but Silvanos who spotted me walking towards the barracks one day and yelled up to me, “are you going to the back of the barracks to observe the baboons again?” I don’t know how he knew, but that was my first experience of Silvanos’s almost divine awareness. I smiled and said yes and offered him to come, but he wouldn’t; he said he knew I liked to do this alone, but insisted that we discuss my findings later, which we did, helping me to recall if I saw an association to apply to my research.
I remember having a bad day in Elangata Wuas, not that anyone knew, but the corner of my lip must have flicked or my brow must have folded at some point that day since Silvanos appeared out of the shrubbery as I was wandering the extensive camp grounds that night. He said he had been searching for me and immediately folded those long fingers into mine—as is customary between good male friends from that part of the world—and forced me to sit with him, saying that he knew I was unhappy, insisting that I tell him what was wrong. I immediately said that I was fine, but he wasn’t one to be embarrassed over the embarrassment of others. He looked me in the eyes and smiled, saying in that case we would just sit together and holds hands and look at the stars until I felt comfortable to talk, which we soon did.
Did you have the opportunity to see Silvanos and the other African TAs correct our projects? I did. What do you think that was like? Them brooding over student papers, forcing themselves to stay awake while we enjoyed ourselves outdoors…oh no, I assure you, it was a celebration. I borrowed a book from Silvanos while we were at Lake Naivasha and promised to return it that evening. I knocked on his door and entered something I had never seen before, academics so thrilled to correct student papers that they were fidgeting with excitement, insisting that the others in the room must hear a particularly lucid comment one of the students had made, ohs and ahs escaping their mouths, unable to restrain themselves. That was the only time Silvanos ever waved me off, saying that he would see me the next day and to close the door after myself. He was working, and work took all his concentration.
Did you ever see Silvanos angry? I did, once, and it was directed towards me, deservedly so. I’m not going to go into details since Thom may read this, but it had something to do with my wandering feet. I got a lashing from Silvanos; a lashing based on pure logic in point form as to why he thought my intended action was detrimental towards the entire group. He was right, of course; he was always right since he would blend an immaculate sense of logic with and innate ability for kindness. He was concerned for the group, but I knew he was equally concerned for me. I apologized and said I would never do that again (which I didn’t) and he forgave me on the spot, no punishment, no half day of cold-shoulder. He wrapped his fingers in mine and we made our way back to the group. Can you even begin to imagine what a wonderful parent he must have been to his children?
One reads about the horrors of Africa, like the Rwandan Genocide and Darfur, but it isn’t until you go there that you witness how kind and generous the African people really are. I was cracking jokes once, as I’m apt to do, in a Maasai village when suddenly an intense looking Maasai elder marched straight towards me and said, “You are funny! I am funny too…I invite you to my home.” Myself and a couple of other students followed the man to his hut, bent down and scurried out of the brightness of the African sun and into the complete blackness of his hut. We blindly found seats without demolishing the walls with our shoulders and sat and listened to his stories that he shared with us willingly. These people will invite you to eat with them when they have no guarantee of procuring food the next day, let alone water. For future CFSIA students who will never know Silvanos personally, it’s when you meet these people and experience their amazing kindness and generosity, you will know Silvanos.
I had a special, close friendship with Silvanos, but I’m also well aware that many others did too. He was certainly one of the most endearing people I have ever met and, oblivious to me up until the day I heard he died, my very best friend in Africa.
Brian Doonan (CFSIA 2006)
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