Pepani, Pepani!! I am sorry that it has been so long since I last updated! I felt (and still feel) like I don't have a whole lot to say.
The past month since I last updated has been a tough one for me. I feel like the beginning of November was a lifetime ago. I have done a couple of 180's emotionally- from wanting to stay here for the rest of my life to wanting to go home tomorrow, to being very apathetic about the whole situation. The emotional roller coaster has left me a little drained and without words to say. So pepani! I will do better next time.
Let's see, what have I done this past month.... Despite some difficulties getting off campus/ out of Lilongwe due to fuel issues, it seems that I have been able to get away quite a bit. In the beginning of November I traveled up to Northern Malawi to visit a site where some friends are thinking about starting an orphanage. Northern Malawi is amazing. There are trees EVERYWHERE! And I LOVE trees!!! The contrast between central and northern Malawi is overwhelming. Trees are virtually non-existent in the central region (where I live) due to deforestation. It saddens me to know that that is what Malawi is supposed to look like. It is a shame it doesn't look like that anymore.
Last weekend we truly took advantage of the fuel shortage and traveled around best way we know how- via hitching/ walking/ bike taxi-ing. Some friends of ours live about 20 miles away and agreed to let us spend the night at their farm to get some much needed time away from Lilongwe. We decided to make an adventure out of it and set out on foot with the hopes of finding a ride as we went on. My dreams came true when a truck stopped to pick us up. (It has been a dream of mine to travel a longer distance (longer than the three miles I have already traveled in the back of a truck) standing up in the back of a pickup truck.) You see people doing it all the time here, and whenever someone would pass me in the back of a pickup I would get jealous. So now I can say I have done that too. :-).
I also embarked on my first bike taxi adventure. Bike taxi's are a common means of transportation here in Malawi, and one which I had never taken advantage of. On the way back from our friends farm we took a bike taxi for the entire 4 mile stretch of dirt road to the tarmack. It was an interesting experience to say the least. The three guys that were taking each one of us seemed to be racing- my guy lost. While it was fun to be able to sit and watch the scenery go by, I am not sure how many more bike taxi rides I will partake in. I felt very lazy sitting there while I made someone else do all that work or carting me around.
I am sure that I will have many more adventures to update you on in the coming weeks. I am planning on taking holiday and traveling to go stay in a village with some friends for a few days. This will be the first time that I will stay in a village for more than a night. It will also be the first time I will stay in a house without running water and electricity. I am excited to experience life as many people living around me experience it. (Or at least more so than I experience it living in the gated walls of ABC). I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season! Merry Christmas and safe travels to all those who are traveling this season!!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
T.I.A,
T.I.A.
This Is Africa. The past couple of weeks have been quite “african”. The “africanisms” seem to be following us around everywhere. And I LOVE it. Disclaimer- no part of this is in any way a complaint... I have it so much easier than most of the people that live here. I am so privileged.
You learn to appreciate little things when everything around you doesn't seem to be working. The slogan of the company that provides power to Malawi is “working towards power all day everyday” (or something to that affect). Lately it seems like it should read “working towards power for a quarter of the day...some days...). The constant switching on and off of the lights while in the pharmacy makes it feel kind of like a disco, but it is in no way, shape or form conducive to counting meds. But, like I said, there is no complaining coming out of my mouth (or hands, as I am typing). It just makes me marvel in the fact that there are millions of people in this world that survive day in and day out without power. This weekend I had the privilege to eat at a friends uncle's house. His uncle's wife cooked for all 8 of us by herself.... on a coals. The thought of cooking for eight stresses me out as is, let alone doing it without a stove or oven. People look at the lives of people that live in third world countries as trivial, but I see the opposite. I see how trivial our lives are. If the infrastructure in America (or other western cultures) were to collapse and we were forced to live the way people in third world countries live, would we even be able to survive? No, it is definitely not their lives that are the trivial ones.
The new experience that I had this last week was waiting in a queue for petrol. (A queue is just another meaning for a line- and a word with way too man vowels in it. Petrol obviously is gas). I am not going to lie, I enjoyed every minute of the 12 and a half HOURS that I waited to fill up the car. My fellow queue-rs were not so happy. Waiting in a queue for me was a novelty, something that I can appreciate doing because it is not the life that I have to live. For the next six months I might have to wait for gas, but when I go home, I can enjoy the convenience of gas stations in a functioning country. Waiting for gas here is an experience, and one I will accept readily because it teaches me yet again how blessed I am, but its no more than that- an experience. It is not a way of life for me. It teaches me never again to get frustrated waiting the fifteen minutes that you need to wait even in the longest lines at Costco.
All the things that have been lacking lately in Malawi- electricity, petrol, water, coca-cola (ok the coke shortage is annoying, but nothing more than that and I think most people realize that)- have taught me that the things that I thought I needed to survive were just blessings. Life goes on with or without them. It's up to us to decide to go on with it or to sit and complain about it. There are very few necessities in life- things that you absolutely need to survive- and all the “T.I.A.” moments lately have been showing me that. There is nothing you can do to change some of the things around you that aren't working, all you can do is take it in stride and roll with the punches. There is no use in getting upset over it, but it would be a lost opportunity if you didn't take a step back and use the experiences your a part of to realize the blessings that you have in life.
This Is Africa. The past couple of weeks have been quite “african”. The “africanisms” seem to be following us around everywhere. And I LOVE it. Disclaimer- no part of this is in any way a complaint... I have it so much easier than most of the people that live here. I am so privileged.
You learn to appreciate little things when everything around you doesn't seem to be working. The slogan of the company that provides power to Malawi is “working towards power all day everyday” (or something to that affect). Lately it seems like it should read “working towards power for a quarter of the day...some days...). The constant switching on and off of the lights while in the pharmacy makes it feel kind of like a disco, but it is in no way, shape or form conducive to counting meds. But, like I said, there is no complaining coming out of my mouth (or hands, as I am typing). It just makes me marvel in the fact that there are millions of people in this world that survive day in and day out without power. This weekend I had the privilege to eat at a friends uncle's house. His uncle's wife cooked for all 8 of us by herself.... on a coals. The thought of cooking for eight stresses me out as is, let alone doing it without a stove or oven. People look at the lives of people that live in third world countries as trivial, but I see the opposite. I see how trivial our lives are. If the infrastructure in America (or other western cultures) were to collapse and we were forced to live the way people in third world countries live, would we even be able to survive? No, it is definitely not their lives that are the trivial ones.
The new experience that I had this last week was waiting in a queue for petrol. (A queue is just another meaning for a line- and a word with way too man vowels in it. Petrol obviously is gas). I am not going to lie, I enjoyed every minute of the 12 and a half HOURS that I waited to fill up the car. My fellow queue-rs were not so happy. Waiting in a queue for me was a novelty, something that I can appreciate doing because it is not the life that I have to live. For the next six months I might have to wait for gas, but when I go home, I can enjoy the convenience of gas stations in a functioning country. Waiting for gas here is an experience, and one I will accept readily because it teaches me yet again how blessed I am, but its no more than that- an experience. It is not a way of life for me. It teaches me never again to get frustrated waiting the fifteen minutes that you need to wait even in the longest lines at Costco.
All the things that have been lacking lately in Malawi- electricity, petrol, water, coca-cola (ok the coke shortage is annoying, but nothing more than that and I think most people realize that)- have taught me that the things that I thought I needed to survive were just blessings. Life goes on with or without them. It's up to us to decide to go on with it or to sit and complain about it. There are very few necessities in life- things that you absolutely need to survive- and all the “T.I.A.” moments lately have been showing me that. There is nothing you can do to change some of the things around you that aren't working, all you can do is take it in stride and roll with the punches. There is no use in getting upset over it, but it would be a lost opportunity if you didn't take a step back and use the experiences your a part of to realize the blessings that you have in life.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Love
So this is more of a 'blog' and less of an update. Know that when I was writing this it was just as much for me as for anyone else. Although the questions and commands in this can be applied to anyone, for me to truly believe them they must first be applied to myself. I have been talking a lot about love lately, and last night I had to stop and really think about what I was talking about. What is love? These are some of my thoughts on it. I don't claim to really know what I am talking about or have all the answers. Take this as you want... right or wrong, these are my thoughts on the subject.
Love. What is it? Love is an emotion that so captivates us as human beings. But what does it mean to truly love someone? Not the gushy tripping over your own words because you are head over heels for someone romantically love, but the love for your neighbor, your “brother”, your “sister”, the love for Christ and the love that Christ has for you. What is this kind of love? How do you define it? How do you practice it??
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 is a verse that kept coming to mind tonight when I was thinking about love. Now I know this verse is (in my opinion) one that is overly quoted in the romantic scenario, I think that it is completely overlooked as applied to any other facet of our life. It reads: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Take a moment and think about this verse. Meditate on it. What would our lives look like if we took this to heart. If this became the golden rule of our life? What would the world look like if everyone walking around practiced this as the foundation that we should build our lives around. (Well the foundation apart from Christ alone.)
Love is patient. How often do we rush people along because we feel we have something better to do. We don't take time to ask people how they are doing because we have to run and grab a coffee before our next meeting. We honk our horn at the old woman driving slowly rather than patiently driving behind her, enjoying the scenery that God gave us. We rush through our lives not looking around, not caring who we are passing by. Not caring who we are missing, what person we are overlooking in order for us to get our next foot in the next door of life.
Love is kind. This one seems sort of self explanatory. But how often are we kind to those that it benefits us to be kind to. I know I am guilty of it. It's easy to be kind to those who are kind to us. It is easy to be kind to those who can help us. But what about the beggar on the side of the road. What about the child sitting at the restaurant next to you who won't stop screaming. Love is kind. To everyone. All of the time. There are no exceptions. Love does not know boundaries. It does not know the walls that culture has put in place. The kindness of love should transcend all divides that society might happen to put in place, that we might happen to put in place.
Envy. Pride. Boastfulness. Have you ever had a day where you have not felt or participated in one of these things? Because I haven't. To truly love someone else you need to humble yourself. Now there is a word for you- humility. That is another lofty word that is worth defining. The dictionary says humility is a noun- it says it is the modest opinion or estimate of one's own importance. I believe humility is so much more than this. I believe humility is impossible without love. Without compassion. Those things that you envy- are you worthy of them? Are any of us worthy of them? Isn't the only person who is and was ever worthy of any of the splendor and glory of this world Christ Himself? What do we have to be proud of? To boast about? We are constantly falling short of what we are meant to be. We can do nothing on our own. In order to love someone don't you have to first realize this? It doesn't matter if you are black or white, rich or poor, you are still unworthy. Nothing you do will ever measure up to something that is worth the grace that we receive. I think it is only in recognizing this in humility that we can start to love people the way God intended us to love them.
Love ALWAYS protects, ALWAYS trusts, ALWAYS hopes, ALWAYS perseveres. Not sometimes. Not when it is convenient. ALWAYS. Stop for a second and think about that. Think about always protecting those around you. Protecting them at any cost. Putting your life before theirs. How different would our world be if instead of worrying about how we were going to make that next thousand dollars, we worried about how to protect those that live on less than a dollar a day. Love always trusts, hopes, preservers... always. No exceptions. How glorious would our world be if we lived this out. There would be no need (if there is one anyway) for war, for guns, for fighting. If we lived this verse out love would always persevere. It would always come out on top, and the world would be an amazing place because of it. Think of how much less suffering there would be. How much less hurt there would be. Think about all the things we could accomplish together if we lived in a community that loved each other, loved our neighbors, with the love that is described in this verse.
Love is a verb, not a noun. It is an action word. Go live out a life full of love. Go live out a life full of THISkind of love. Live out a life where this kind of love is applied not just to our husbands and wives, not just our mothers and brothers and sisters- our blood, but a life where this love is given out to the broken and destitute, the oppressed and the impoverished. The needy. The poor. The lonely. The homeless. Go out and live a life of love- this kind of love- to EVERYONE around you. Do it. I dare you. See how it will change your life.
Love. What is it? Love is an emotion that so captivates us as human beings. But what does it mean to truly love someone? Not the gushy tripping over your own words because you are head over heels for someone romantically love, but the love for your neighbor, your “brother”, your “sister”, the love for Christ and the love that Christ has for you. What is this kind of love? How do you define it? How do you practice it??
1 Corinthians 13:4-7 is a verse that kept coming to mind tonight when I was thinking about love. Now I know this verse is (in my opinion) one that is overly quoted in the romantic scenario, I think that it is completely overlooked as applied to any other facet of our life. It reads: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Take a moment and think about this verse. Meditate on it. What would our lives look like if we took this to heart. If this became the golden rule of our life? What would the world look like if everyone walking around practiced this as the foundation that we should build our lives around. (Well the foundation apart from Christ alone.)
Love is patient. How often do we rush people along because we feel we have something better to do. We don't take time to ask people how they are doing because we have to run and grab a coffee before our next meeting. We honk our horn at the old woman driving slowly rather than patiently driving behind her, enjoying the scenery that God gave us. We rush through our lives not looking around, not caring who we are passing by. Not caring who we are missing, what person we are overlooking in order for us to get our next foot in the next door of life.
Love is kind. This one seems sort of self explanatory. But how often are we kind to those that it benefits us to be kind to. I know I am guilty of it. It's easy to be kind to those who are kind to us. It is easy to be kind to those who can help us. But what about the beggar on the side of the road. What about the child sitting at the restaurant next to you who won't stop screaming. Love is kind. To everyone. All of the time. There are no exceptions. Love does not know boundaries. It does not know the walls that culture has put in place. The kindness of love should transcend all divides that society might happen to put in place, that we might happen to put in place.
Envy. Pride. Boastfulness. Have you ever had a day where you have not felt or participated in one of these things? Because I haven't. To truly love someone else you need to humble yourself. Now there is a word for you- humility. That is another lofty word that is worth defining. The dictionary says humility is a noun- it says it is the modest opinion or estimate of one's own importance. I believe humility is so much more than this. I believe humility is impossible without love. Without compassion. Those things that you envy- are you worthy of them? Are any of us worthy of them? Isn't the only person who is and was ever worthy of any of the splendor and glory of this world Christ Himself? What do we have to be proud of? To boast about? We are constantly falling short of what we are meant to be. We can do nothing on our own. In order to love someone don't you have to first realize this? It doesn't matter if you are black or white, rich or poor, you are still unworthy. Nothing you do will ever measure up to something that is worth the grace that we receive. I think it is only in recognizing this in humility that we can start to love people the way God intended us to love them.
Love ALWAYS protects, ALWAYS trusts, ALWAYS hopes, ALWAYS perseveres. Not sometimes. Not when it is convenient. ALWAYS. Stop for a second and think about that. Think about always protecting those around you. Protecting them at any cost. Putting your life before theirs. How different would our world be if instead of worrying about how we were going to make that next thousand dollars, we worried about how to protect those that live on less than a dollar a day. Love always trusts, hopes, preservers... always. No exceptions. How glorious would our world be if we lived this out. There would be no need (if there is one anyway) for war, for guns, for fighting. If we lived this verse out love would always persevere. It would always come out on top, and the world would be an amazing place because of it. Think of how much less suffering there would be. How much less hurt there would be. Think about all the things we could accomplish together if we lived in a community that loved each other, loved our neighbors, with the love that is described in this verse.
Love is a verb, not a noun. It is an action word. Go live out a life full of love. Go live out a life full of THISkind of love. Live out a life where this kind of love is applied not just to our husbands and wives, not just our mothers and brothers and sisters- our blood, but a life where this love is given out to the broken and destitute, the oppressed and the impoverished. The needy. The poor. The lonely. The homeless. Go out and live a life of love- this kind of love- to EVERYONE around you. Do it. I dare you. See how it will change your life.
Monday, October 3, 2011
I'm tired of thinking of "creative" titles for these blogs....
Not only am I tired of thinking of creative titles, I am also tired of proofreading... my apologies.
I haven't written in a while, and feel as if I should. I need to make sure that I remember my time here. I need to make sure that this doesn't become routine...and monotonous.
This weekend was great. Sitting downtown in India Town(a busy part of town that we have been spending a lot of time in) just drinking a coke and passing time chatting is an experience I will treasure forever... and one that I need to do more often. When you are surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the busy streets of India town, it feels as if you are a part of it. It feels as if I am truly living in Africa- well I am truly living in Afica, but from day to day I live in the American bubble in Africa. Looking around I feel like this is my home. This is where I live and spend my time. My eyes are opened to the world around me, and I can't help but smile. Watching the sun set over the market filled with vendors and buyers, smelling the fires of Africa, the rubbage in the streets, the smells of Malawi, all whilst drinking a coke out of a glass bottle- it's an experience I wouldn't trade for the world. I want this to become my home. I want the people who spend their days in India town to recognize me. I don't want to be the novelty mzungu. I want to be one of the regulars. I want to blend so I can help... so I can love... and they can love me.
Eating where Malawians eat is another experience that I love. Now I know even the "Malawian" restaurants I got to aren't exactly where most Malawians eat, it's still a little pricey, but it's a good compromise. I am still a little nervous about getting sick at certain restaurants. I get nervous that the chicken on my plate might be the one that I saw earlier that afternoon being carried- dead, skinned, and feathered- by bicycle under the blazing sun with no refrigerator. I want to blend as much as possible... but that doesn't mean that I am comfortable with dysentery. While it's nice to occasionally go out to our favorite Indian restaurant in town, I have found that for the most part I enjoy eating the less expensive traditional fare.
Saturday I went back out with the Chisomo girls. This week we had our first game (or at least the first one since I have been playing with them). I wish I could say it went well...but we got schooled. By little boys. We played the boys under 12 team, and they kicked our butt 3-1. Let me tell you, those boys are good. They have obviously been playing their entire lives. They know how to pass, to keep their head up, to trap with a direction, they have soft touches on the ball, they play as a team.... all things that we are lacking. Hopefully with a little more practice we can learn these things. Maybe we should call the boys back and have them teach us. Talk about being humbled. I am a good 11 years older than their oldest player... getting schooled by little boys on the soccer field is not something I want to participate in daily. Regardless of the win/loss/embarrassment, it was a great time. I feel like I am starting to build connections with these girls. I want to be friends with them, not just teammates. I hope the more I show up the less weird it is that I am from a different background, country, culture. I hope that we can erase those lines and build new ones. Ones that cross the cultural divide and bond us as friends.
I pray that God gives me compassion. Helps me relate to people on their level, not mine. Helps me see them as people, as friends, as equals. I pray that God humbles me and shows me that everything I am doing is for Him... not for me. I pray that God helps me realize that all that I do is to glorify HIS name, not mine. I pray that everything I do I do for God... to show His love and His amazing grace. I pray I do this all for His will, and because He has led me to where I am.
I haven't written in a while, and feel as if I should. I need to make sure that I remember my time here. I need to make sure that this doesn't become routine...and monotonous.
This weekend was great. Sitting downtown in India Town(a busy part of town that we have been spending a lot of time in) just drinking a coke and passing time chatting is an experience I will treasure forever... and one that I need to do more often. When you are surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the busy streets of India town, it feels as if you are a part of it. It feels as if I am truly living in Africa- well I am truly living in Afica, but from day to day I live in the American bubble in Africa. Looking around I feel like this is my home. This is where I live and spend my time. My eyes are opened to the world around me, and I can't help but smile. Watching the sun set over the market filled with vendors and buyers, smelling the fires of Africa, the rubbage in the streets, the smells of Malawi, all whilst drinking a coke out of a glass bottle- it's an experience I wouldn't trade for the world. I want this to become my home. I want the people who spend their days in India town to recognize me. I don't want to be the novelty mzungu. I want to be one of the regulars. I want to blend so I can help... so I can love... and they can love me.
Eating where Malawians eat is another experience that I love. Now I know even the "Malawian" restaurants I got to aren't exactly where most Malawians eat, it's still a little pricey, but it's a good compromise. I am still a little nervous about getting sick at certain restaurants. I get nervous that the chicken on my plate might be the one that I saw earlier that afternoon being carried- dead, skinned, and feathered- by bicycle under the blazing sun with no refrigerator. I want to blend as much as possible... but that doesn't mean that I am comfortable with dysentery. While it's nice to occasionally go out to our favorite Indian restaurant in town, I have found that for the most part I enjoy eating the less expensive traditional fare.
Saturday I went back out with the Chisomo girls. This week we had our first game (or at least the first one since I have been playing with them). I wish I could say it went well...but we got schooled. By little boys. We played the boys under 12 team, and they kicked our butt 3-1. Let me tell you, those boys are good. They have obviously been playing their entire lives. They know how to pass, to keep their head up, to trap with a direction, they have soft touches on the ball, they play as a team.... all things that we are lacking. Hopefully with a little more practice we can learn these things. Maybe we should call the boys back and have them teach us. Talk about being humbled. I am a good 11 years older than their oldest player... getting schooled by little boys on the soccer field is not something I want to participate in daily. Regardless of the win/loss/embarrassment, it was a great time. I feel like I am starting to build connections with these girls. I want to be friends with them, not just teammates. I hope the more I show up the less weird it is that I am from a different background, country, culture. I hope that we can erase those lines and build new ones. Ones that cross the cultural divide and bond us as friends.
I pray that God gives me compassion. Helps me relate to people on their level, not mine. Helps me see them as people, as friends, as equals. I pray that God humbles me and shows me that everything I am doing is for Him... not for me. I pray that God helps me realize that all that I do is to glorify HIS name, not mine. I pray that everything I do I do for God... to show His love and His amazing grace. I pray I do this all for His will, and because He has led me to where I am.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Another full heart :-)
This weekend I was blessed in so many ways. I was able to go out to do outreach in a village not once, but twice. I am brimming with joy and my heart is full after this weekend.
Saturday morning I was able to go out with the Chisomo Idea and help coach underprivileged boys and girls in soccer. We went out with the intentions of coaching just the girls team, but this being Malawi, plans changed a bit and we were able to interact with both the girls and the boys. The Chisomo Idea is an amazing organization that provides a soccer academy for the underprivileged. As I was looking around watching both the boys play soccer and the children standing on the sidelines watching, I realized something amazing was happening here. The Chisomo Idea was teaching the boys (and girls) not only how to play soccer, but to be role models. The boys were learning self-esteem and confidence. They were learning responsibility. It was so cool to watch the faces of the little ones not yet old enough to play. They were gleaming with the joy of the possibilities to come. They were itching to be old enough to put on a scrimmage jersey and take up with the team. It was amazing knowing all that comes with putting on that jersey. The boys were looking forward to something- they were looking forward to a better and brighter future. One that not only contains countless hours of practices and scrimmages, but responsibility, hopes, and dreams.
The girls were just as inspiring. One girl (who reminded me of myself when I played soccer all those years ago) showed up dolled up in a fancy dress. I thought for sure she was going to be one of the “typical girls” (at least the stereotypical American girl... which, might I add, is not so typical) who is scared to get dirty and break a nail. Boy was I wrong. She was all over the field, slide tackling her teammates, slamming her body into her opponents and the ground in a sacrifice to get the ball. She had spunk. It was amazing to watch these girls come alive on the field.
It's incredible how God works sometimes. I remember the last time I walked off the soccer field my senior year of high school very well. I cried like baby because I knew it would be the last time I played soccer. And so far, I have been right. But here I am, in Africa, showing kids love- God's love- through this amazing sport that dominated my life and heart for 13 years. I couldn't help but smile and laugh at how blessed I was (and am, because I hope to continue to work with the Chisomo Idea) to help out.
I was also able to go out to a village this morning, where I had the opportunity to go to a village (“local”) church. When I was leaving in June last year, I was upset with myself because I never made an to opportunity to go out to a village church. It was an amazing experience. The worship was extraordinary. There were not one- not two- but three choirs. Even though everything (except the sermon, which was given by one of the ABC professors) was in Chichewa, there was no translation needed for the worship. The intensity in which this church was worshiping God was awe-inspiring. You could feel His Spirit there with you. The church was not only packed with people, but full up of God's Spirit.
Today I learned what it means to really love those around you. Today I was shown how to be selfless. After Reverend Brown spoke, they informed us that they were going to give us a small gift. A procession line of women came to the front where we were standing and handed us gift after gift. We ended up getting a huge box of peanuts, bundles and bundles of onions, heaps of tomatoes, lots of peas, and a chicken- a live chicken. The average person in Malawi lives on less than a dollar a day-a lot of these people lived on less than a dollar a day. And they gave us more food than we knew what to do with. I have never been so selfless. I continue to be humbled beyond belief in Malawi. I wish I had the heart to be able to so selflessly give. I am learning so much from my neighbors here. They are showing me what it means to worship, what it means to be selfless, what it means to love your neighbor more than yourself. What it means to love God. It seems like the more I am here the more I am falling in love with this beautiful country and the beautiful people that live in it.
a picture of the gifts that they gave us (minus the skateboard)
Saturday morning I was able to go out with the Chisomo Idea and help coach underprivileged boys and girls in soccer. We went out with the intentions of coaching just the girls team, but this being Malawi, plans changed a bit and we were able to interact with both the girls and the boys. The Chisomo Idea is an amazing organization that provides a soccer academy for the underprivileged. As I was looking around watching both the boys play soccer and the children standing on the sidelines watching, I realized something amazing was happening here. The Chisomo Idea was teaching the boys (and girls) not only how to play soccer, but to be role models. The boys were learning self-esteem and confidence. They were learning responsibility. It was so cool to watch the faces of the little ones not yet old enough to play. They were gleaming with the joy of the possibilities to come. They were itching to be old enough to put on a scrimmage jersey and take up with the team. It was amazing knowing all that comes with putting on that jersey. The boys were looking forward to something- they were looking forward to a better and brighter future. One that not only contains countless hours of practices and scrimmages, but responsibility, hopes, and dreams.
The girls were just as inspiring. One girl (who reminded me of myself when I played soccer all those years ago) showed up dolled up in a fancy dress. I thought for sure she was going to be one of the “typical girls” (at least the stereotypical American girl... which, might I add, is not so typical) who is scared to get dirty and break a nail. Boy was I wrong. She was all over the field, slide tackling her teammates, slamming her body into her opponents and the ground in a sacrifice to get the ball. She had spunk. It was amazing to watch these girls come alive on the field.
It's incredible how God works sometimes. I remember the last time I walked off the soccer field my senior year of high school very well. I cried like baby because I knew it would be the last time I played soccer. And so far, I have been right. But here I am, in Africa, showing kids love- God's love- through this amazing sport that dominated my life and heart for 13 years. I couldn't help but smile and laugh at how blessed I was (and am, because I hope to continue to work with the Chisomo Idea) to help out.
I was also able to go out to a village this morning, where I had the opportunity to go to a village (“local”) church. When I was leaving in June last year, I was upset with myself because I never made an to opportunity to go out to a village church. It was an amazing experience. The worship was extraordinary. There were not one- not two- but three choirs. Even though everything (except the sermon, which was given by one of the ABC professors) was in Chichewa, there was no translation needed for the worship. The intensity in which this church was worshiping God was awe-inspiring. You could feel His Spirit there with you. The church was not only packed with people, but full up of God's Spirit.
Today I learned what it means to really love those around you. Today I was shown how to be selfless. After Reverend Brown spoke, they informed us that they were going to give us a small gift. A procession line of women came to the front where we were standing and handed us gift after gift. We ended up getting a huge box of peanuts, bundles and bundles of onions, heaps of tomatoes, lots of peas, and a chicken- a live chicken. The average person in Malawi lives on less than a dollar a day-a lot of these people lived on less than a dollar a day. And they gave us more food than we knew what to do with. I have never been so selfless. I continue to be humbled beyond belief in Malawi. I wish I had the heart to be able to so selflessly give. I am learning so much from my neighbors here. They are showing me what it means to worship, what it means to be selfless, what it means to love your neighbor more than yourself. What it means to love God. It seems like the more I am here the more I am falling in love with this beautiful country and the beautiful people that live in it.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
First day out in a village- Mobile Medical Clinic
Today I went on the first mobile medical clinic of the year. Mobile medical clinics are clinics that are sponsored by the Ministry of Hope. The Ministry of Hope is also the organization that runs Crisis Nursery, which I have written about before. (Maria, the baby that I wrote a blog on last year was from the Crisis Nursery). Mobile Clinics go out almost weekly (when there are funds for them) during the dry season. Basically, a group of people travel out to a remote village and set up a make shift clinic. There is a nurse practitioner as well as a pharmacy. Everyday ailments common to the area- pneumonia, malaria, worms-ya know, the type of stuff we encounter all the time in the States- are able to be treated at these clinics. For anything more severe the patient must go to a more developed clinic/ hospital.
After we arrived and I got over the stares of hundreds of people for being the only white person there, we had introductions. During the introductions (which were in Chichewa, so I had no idea what was being said) I made a point to look around and see exactly who we were treating today. There were lots of babies/ children and grandmothers/ grandfathers. Now whether the parents of the children were out in the fields working, or dead from HIV/AIDS or other illnesses, I do not know. But it broke my heart to look out at the faces of these grandmothers and grandfathers who were having trouble walking themselves, toting around three, four, five children of all ages. What broke my heart more was the older children- maybe 10 years old- caring for their younger brothers and sisters. When I was ten years old I barely knew how to tie my shoe, let alone take care of another human being.
As I was looking around I started to notice their feet. Many did not have shoes, and those who were fortunate enough to have them, had shoes on that were nowhere near their size. I can't imagine what it must be like to have to wear a pair of shoes day in and day out that is two or three sizes too small or big. And to consider yourself lucky for having the blessing of something to put on your feet. As I was looking around, my eyes fell on this one old man. His feet were so tough they looked like stone and they were caked white with dirt and grime from walking for years and years without anything to protect them. I kept looking at his feet and reminding myself how very blessed I am.
Later, when I had the privilege of visiting the long drop, (a version of a toilet that makes an outhouse look luxurious) I was reminded of this old man again. As I entered the tiny room and saw that the floor was covered in excrement, my first thought was 'my poor shoes'. I didn't want to get them dirty and covered in human waste. Oh the audacity I have. I was worried about getting my SHOES dirty, while there were hundreds of people right outside that didn't have the privilege to get their shoes dirty. They had to step in they filth and grime barefoot. How dare me. If that poor old man had to use the long drop, he wouldn't have a choice but to step in everyone else's waste. He may have never had that choice.
How different our worlds are. Me, being American, has to get used to using a long drop. I have to get used to not having the luxuries of running water and toilet paper. There are people all around me that have no idea what that kind of luxury is like. The people I was around today were more concerned with the luxuries of basic medicine, of not having worms and parasites ravishing their bodies. The people I was around today knew that having shoes was a blessing. Oh how much I take for granted. Oh how much I have to learn when it comes to living without. When it comes to living simply. When it comes to understanding the blessings that I have.
Take a second and look around. Thank God for all that you have. Thank God for your electricity, for your running water, for the medicine you have in your bathroom, for the availability of healthcare (even if it is expensive at times-its available), for more than one torn and tattered outfit, for shoes. Thank God for all of this and more, because we are so blessed.
After we arrived and I got over the stares of hundreds of people for being the only white person there, we had introductions. During the introductions (which were in Chichewa, so I had no idea what was being said) I made a point to look around and see exactly who we were treating today. There were lots of babies/ children and grandmothers/ grandfathers. Now whether the parents of the children were out in the fields working, or dead from HIV/AIDS or other illnesses, I do not know. But it broke my heart to look out at the faces of these grandmothers and grandfathers who were having trouble walking themselves, toting around three, four, five children of all ages. What broke my heart more was the older children- maybe 10 years old- caring for their younger brothers and sisters. When I was ten years old I barely knew how to tie my shoe, let alone take care of another human being.
As I was looking around I started to notice their feet. Many did not have shoes, and those who were fortunate enough to have them, had shoes on that were nowhere near their size. I can't imagine what it must be like to have to wear a pair of shoes day in and day out that is two or three sizes too small or big. And to consider yourself lucky for having the blessing of something to put on your feet. As I was looking around, my eyes fell on this one old man. His feet were so tough they looked like stone and they were caked white with dirt and grime from walking for years and years without anything to protect them. I kept looking at his feet and reminding myself how very blessed I am.
Later, when I had the privilege of visiting the long drop, (a version of a toilet that makes an outhouse look luxurious) I was reminded of this old man again. As I entered the tiny room and saw that the floor was covered in excrement, my first thought was 'my poor shoes'. I didn't want to get them dirty and covered in human waste. Oh the audacity I have. I was worried about getting my SHOES dirty, while there were hundreds of people right outside that didn't have the privilege to get their shoes dirty. They had to step in they filth and grime barefoot. How dare me. If that poor old man had to use the long drop, he wouldn't have a choice but to step in everyone else's waste. He may have never had that choice.
How different our worlds are. Me, being American, has to get used to using a long drop. I have to get used to not having the luxuries of running water and toilet paper. There are people all around me that have no idea what that kind of luxury is like. The people I was around today were more concerned with the luxuries of basic medicine, of not having worms and parasites ravishing their bodies. The people I was around today knew that having shoes was a blessing. Oh how much I take for granted. Oh how much I have to learn when it comes to living without. When it comes to living simply. When it comes to understanding the blessings that I have.
Take a second and look around. Thank God for all that you have. Thank God for your electricity, for your running water, for the medicine you have in your bathroom, for the availability of healthcare (even if it is expensive at times-its available), for more than one torn and tattered outfit, for shoes. Thank God for all of this and more, because we are so blessed.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Melting Hearts
First day in Malawi.
So I didn't quite bound off the plane as I had been anticipating. It was more of a sluggish walk, dead tired from not sleeping much (or well) on the plane and my body aching from sitting in the same position for two days straight. I was, however, totally and completely thrilled to be back in Malawi. As soon as the plane landed in the beautiful Warm Heart of Africa a foolish grin crossed my face. I couldn't shake it for the rest of the day. I felt oddly at home.
As soon as I stepped off the plane onto the tarmac of the runway I inhaled, taking a long, deep breath. What I smelled made my heart melt. I don't know how a land can have a smell, but Malawi has a smell. It's hard to describe. It's an earthly, rustic smell.. one that makes me think of open air and camp fires. It is the best smell in the world.
I made it to Lilongwe in one piece. Although I was anticipating a bit of trouble from the airlines, I had incredibly smooth travels. I was even lucky enough to have all of my bags arrive on time, and with nothing stolen from them.
I have unpacked in my adorable new apartment. I live in a studio like apartment this year and love it. I have pretty much recovered from my jet-lag and travels. I am now just gearing up to start work on Monday. Being back in Malawi and this culture has filled my heart to the brim with joy. I am so excited that I have one more year here. I can't wait to see what adventures await me.
So I didn't quite bound off the plane as I had been anticipating. It was more of a sluggish walk, dead tired from not sleeping much (or well) on the plane and my body aching from sitting in the same position for two days straight. I was, however, totally and completely thrilled to be back in Malawi. As soon as the plane landed in the beautiful Warm Heart of Africa a foolish grin crossed my face. I couldn't shake it for the rest of the day. I felt oddly at home.
As soon as I stepped off the plane onto the tarmac of the runway I inhaled, taking a long, deep breath. What I smelled made my heart melt. I don't know how a land can have a smell, but Malawi has a smell. It's hard to describe. It's an earthly, rustic smell.. one that makes me think of open air and camp fires. It is the best smell in the world.
I made it to Lilongwe in one piece. Although I was anticipating a bit of trouble from the airlines, I had incredibly smooth travels. I was even lucky enough to have all of my bags arrive on time, and with nothing stolen from them.
I have unpacked in my adorable new apartment. I live in a studio like apartment this year and love it. I have pretty much recovered from my jet-lag and travels. I am now just gearing up to start work on Monday. Being back in Malawi and this culture has filled my heart to the brim with joy. I am so excited that I have one more year here. I can't wait to see what adventures await me.
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