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
christmas time is here
Merry Christmas!
Having just spent the last two months away, it is really nice to be back home in South Africa. That said, our last two weeks in Kabwe, while crazy busy and exhausting, were quite amazing. We had dinners, a big luncheon with the whole service centre staff and their families, and even a morning of maize farming with Lawrence and his children…the latter being something I really truly enjoyed. There was just such an incredible sense of satisfaction that came from feeling the cool earth beneath my bare feet as I dropped maize kernels into the damp soil…kernels which in just months, maize would be harvested, dried and ready to be pounded into mealie meal. The experience really sparked a desire in both Tyler and I to one day have our own garden.
But as I said, we are now back home with our friends whom I missed dearly, and feel so blessed to be able to catch up with them over this Christmas holiday. Plus we made it home in time to be apart of the delivery of Pragcidence and Levy’s little girl, Taonga (meaning “thankyou God” in Chichewa). Born on December 23rd this little one has already found her way into our hearts and has certainly caused Tyler and I to think more about that “stage” in our lives.
As for Christmas, I can’t deny that it just doesn’t quite feel like a “real” Christmas when it is 30 degrees outside and there isn’t a Christmas tree in sight, but I have come to terms with the fact that it is just a different kind of Christmas. No less beautiful, just different. That said, we (Tyler and I and about 10 others who didn’t return home for the holiday) still managed to recreate many of our family Christmas traditions…we had a full appetizer spread on Christmas eve, turkey with all the fixings, stockings and even Christmas carols on Christmas day. It was a day of swimming, cooking, skyping with family, eating until we almost burst, and staying up late due to a very competitive game of Dutch Blitz. It was awesome. You can click on the link below to check out more pictures:
http://picasaweb.google.com/taralph.africa/ChristmasTimeIsHere#
Plus there is still a week of holiday left! A week which I am so excited for because it will really be a time of relaxation and fun. We actually head out tomorrow with another couple to spend some time in the Drakensburg Mountains and Durban…mmmmm the land of delicious Indian food! We’ll fill you in when we get back…hope you all have a good New Years. Lots of love…
-a
Thunderstorms
We have been in Zambia for 6 weeks now and while we have had some challenging times (inevitable due to the nature of the work we do here – often misunderstandings and difficulties arise when you are learning to adapt to a different culture and way of doing things) we have had many blessed times and feel so at home with our Zambian family. We have grown and learned so much that I actually wouldn’t ever take back any of the difficulties we experienced. It has not only strengthened us but it also made really appreciate the uncomplicated times…times like the 4 days that we had with Blessings and Towela, the coordinators of the service center in Kitwe.
We had just come out of one of one of those trying situations when we set the time to spend the weekend in Kitwe. Tyler stayed with Blessings (a young guy, soon to be married) while I stayed with Towela and her family.
Towela has been married to Henry for 21 years now and they have four children of their own, ranging from the ages of 8-19, as well as a fifth, Rose who is 13. Rose lost both her parents as a young girl and instead of being embraced by her sister and grandmother, was neglected and abused. Towela met Rose a few years back when she was a care worker in the township of Mulenga. Immediately she began to advocate for this girl and care for her at a distance. But when time past and nothing got better, Towela and her husband took her in as one of their own. Timid and shy, Rose also touched me when I met her. She has the sweetest smile, one which speaks much louder than words. One which instantly elicits the recipient of the grin, to also break into a huge smile. Tana, Towlea’s sister, also lives with the family in their two bedroom house. That brings the count up to 7, 8 including me. When shown my room, one shared with Tana and Rose, it was clear that one, or two people had given up their bed for me. This family was nothing less than amazing. So loving, respectful, generous, giving, sacrificial…most of the time I felt like a queen. Whether it was Tina insisting on doing my laundry or scrubbing my sandals clean, or Towela serving me coffee on a silver tray while the boys offered to iron my clothes and Chimwemwe combed my hair, daily I was blessed in some way. But the most inspiring thing about this family was that they live this way every day. Every day they serve each other with love. They actually live out who Jesus calls us to be…humble servants. There is such beauty in the simplicity of this kind of attitude.
By the time Friday night came, I felt like part of the family. We had just finished a light supper when the most spectacular storm I have ever seen came out of nowhere. Now, as a child, I used to be so scared of thunderstorms. As soon as I heard the first boom of thunder and saw a streak of lightening, I would bury my head under the covers and pray that the tree beside my brother’s window wouldn’t fall over and crush our house. But as I grew older that fear disappeared, and in its place a love and fascination for these storms developed. Unfortunately the weather Westcoast doesn’t offer much of these remarkable displays of nature, so I would get my “fix” when travelling to places like Thailand, Toronto, South Africa and most currently, Zambia. Now it is the latter where I have witnessed more thunderstorms in 3 weeks than I have in a lifetime. And this storm was by far the best. Massive bolts of lightning lit the dark sky as the thunder boomed overhead. The rain hadn’t started to fall yet, so a crowd of us (minus Towel, who afraid of storms, buried her head under some pillows) stood out on the street to take in the brilliant display. I was like a little kid at the zoo…mouth open, ohhing and awwing at every streak of lightning that appeared to hit the earth. I was so animated my hosts couldn’t help but giggle at me. It was a good night.
The last day, still without electricity (the storm had knocked out all power the night before) I cooked a maasive pot of Jambalya for the family outside over a coal brazier. There was something so special about that night. The lack of electricity only added to the beauty of the evening. It seemed to quiet the noise and evoke deep conversation, laughter, singing, dancing and fellowshipping. I felt as though we were being bound to this family in a unique, indescribable way. I thank God for that weekend as it brought about redemption, healing, joy and rest for both Tyler and I.
