I can’t believe how long it has been since I have written on this blog. I have no excuse, just didn’t write.
It’s been 10 months in Africa. People are always blown away back home, when you tell them you are going to Africa for a year. But here in Africa, with Hands at Work, we are considered mid-term volunteers. When I look at where we started, where we are now, and think to where we will be when we leave, I understand why 1 year isn’t considered long-term. Our time has gone incredibly fast. It actually feels like I blinked and ended up at a point 10 months later. I feel like now we are really getting into the work, and our time is almost up. It’s not long enough.
It takes this long to really get a decent grasp on understanding work in Africa. Things move at a much different pace. Relationship is valued much more than getting the job done “right now”. It takes time to know the effective ways of getting things done. After all, the goal is much different. We are not looking to better ourselves and climb a corporate ladder. Our goal is to empower others and equip them. It requires different skills, awareness and sensitivity. It hasn’t been easy.
The relationships we have built here are incredible. We call each other family, and I actually do consider these people a second family. These relationships seem to be fast tracked based on the gravity of the work we do. Our work carries with it a huge responsibility, especially from those that are here for the long haul. Some mistakes can deeply affect an individual’s life and can even cost someone their life. That’s why it takes the incredible people that live here. Their heart, courage and determination is infectious to those who come across it. Every day they are an inspiration to me. Our culture could learn a lot from the people here. I came with a couple role models, but I will leave Africa with many more. I have been blessed by my family here and my spirit has been deeply enriched.
I have been woken up. Shaken and impacted by what I’ve seen here. It took a giant slap in the face to show me how I was skimming the surface. I know children’s names and faces, children that have lived through more than what is imaginable. I can see their tears even now, when I think about them sitting in front of me, telling their story. I know I have made mistakes and I have regrets that I never want to feel. I wonder if sometimes I have let children slip through the cracks. That comes with it a guilt that is almost unbearable. I pray that I will never turn my back on any situation. That I will always do all that it is in my power, for those that cannot help themselves. I will never forget them or their stories. I see that life is so much bigger than my next meal or what car I want to buy. And I love this work, its successes are so rewarding. It is such fulfilling work, but I don’t think that is why people dedicate their lives to it. The fulfillment is just an afterthought. People do this because they will not see a child be left behind to suffer. Those are the people that I want to surround myself with. I take great pride in saying I have friends all over Africa, who define the term servant hood and the word giving. And what they have taught me is more important to me than anything I learned in college.
I know there are people who see this work as futile. Those are people who have never been to Africa. I think some people even feel guilt at not doing anything and their way of coping is to say that Africa is hopeless; as if believing that would absolve them of any obligation. Yes people have been doing this work for generations and the problem is still there. But I assure those people that if they knew the children by name, they would take no comfort in this excuse.
I love Africa and the people I have met here, I will deeply miss it all when it is our time to go. But until then, I am enjoying every minute. I hope everyone back home is well, we love and miss you guys. Take it easy and we will see you soon.
~T
