this is MY summer love:
http://www.ei-malawi.org/
debug her pls&ty (:
especially in IE. grr IE.
14 August 2009
05 August 2009
Sustainability and a Soft Heart
It always amazes me how just when my feet are steadying on the new ground I tread, that the end lurks nearby, and change is yet again ready to sweep me off my feet.
When I first got to Malawi, I'd constantly asked why, and had to take deliberate time to pause and ponder my actions. I can now say that I'm getting into the swing of things. I'm adapting to the culture, to the TIA(this is africa) moments, and to the heartbreaking realities of nationals.
Within my first weeks here, my heart broke upon hearing that Ninth Grade girls were dropping out of school at an alarming rate of 1/5 due to pregnancies. I paused too long and pondered too much, and the opportunity to run workshops with these girls passed me by as they began their winter vacation. I still wonder if I could have helped even one girl if I had acted sooner.
Then, our day guard told us of his inability to pay for his son's high school tuition. We brainstormed ways to help and were fairly set on an AmazonFresh-type service. Again, I paused and had to ponder this idea. When I could no longer sit still, I talked to the guard and on the fly proposed that his wife cook us dinner twice a week. We pay her a salary that allows exercise books for his 4 youngest children, and hopefully helps in paying the high school tuition as well. However, this service needs work. What will happen when we're gone? I can't quite place a checkmark in the sustainability box.
One evening, we discovered our night guard's son was in the hospital. Asking if he was doing ok, the guard replied that yes, he was ok, but the doctor said that he needs Sobo to boost his sugar levels, and he couldn’t afford to buy it. Sobo is a juice concentrate - a small bottle costs no more than $1CDN. Our guard's son was in the hospital, and he couldn't afford the $1 it would take to make him better. The next day, we gave our guard the largest bottle of Sobo we could find. Pineapple (: Was that a sustainable action? Probably not, but at times like this, compassion triumphed sustainability, and a soft heart triumphed over a strategic action plan.
Lastly, Kathleen and I saw a crippled old woman at the market dragging herself along. We avoided eye contact, and sat on the ground eating our snack. We must have had 8 bags full of groceries, but quickly shook our heads as she reached out her hand, begging. She dragged herself along, and stopped 5m away from us. As we snuck glances at her, we decided to offer her some fruit and cookies.
After 7 weeks and meeting face to face with poverty, injustice, and illness, my heart continues to break with every struggle I hear and to be uplifted with every ray of hope. After 7 weeks, I've learned that I could have all the money in the world, I could have intelligence that revolutionize systems, I could have compassion that cries at the sight of suffering, but if I have not love, I am nothing. What good is money if I don't love the poor I am supporting? What good is intellect if I don't love the beneficiaries of systems change? And what good is compassion if I don't love enough to act on my heartbreak? Nothing. Nothing is anything without love.
Yes, there are times when questions of sustainability arise. These questions should be raised a majority of the time. But also there are times, when before judging and trying to make a strategic move, it's important to simply be human and love. To let love just overwhelm you and do what your heart reveals is the right thing to do. And these moments, moments where you just love, are byfar the sweetest ones (:
When I first got to Malawi, I'd constantly asked why, and had to take deliberate time to pause and ponder my actions. I can now say that I'm getting into the swing of things. I'm adapting to the culture, to the TIA(this is africa) moments, and to the heartbreaking realities of nationals.
Within my first weeks here, my heart broke upon hearing that Ninth Grade girls were dropping out of school at an alarming rate of 1/5 due to pregnancies. I paused too long and pondered too much, and the opportunity to run workshops with these girls passed me by as they began their winter vacation. I still wonder if I could have helped even one girl if I had acted sooner.
Then, our day guard told us of his inability to pay for his son's high school tuition. We brainstormed ways to help and were fairly set on an AmazonFresh-type service. Again, I paused and had to ponder this idea. When I could no longer sit still, I talked to the guard and on the fly proposed that his wife cook us dinner twice a week. We pay her a salary that allows exercise books for his 4 youngest children, and hopefully helps in paying the high school tuition as well. However, this service needs work. What will happen when we're gone? I can't quite place a checkmark in the sustainability box.
One evening, we discovered our night guard's son was in the hospital. Asking if he was doing ok, the guard replied that yes, he was ok, but the doctor said that he needs Sobo to boost his sugar levels, and he couldn’t afford to buy it. Sobo is a juice concentrate - a small bottle costs no more than $1CDN. Our guard's son was in the hospital, and he couldn't afford the $1 it would take to make him better. The next day, we gave our guard the largest bottle of Sobo we could find. Pineapple (: Was that a sustainable action? Probably not, but at times like this, compassion triumphed sustainability, and a soft heart triumphed over a strategic action plan.
Lastly, Kathleen and I saw a crippled old woman at the market dragging herself along. We avoided eye contact, and sat on the ground eating our snack. We must have had 8 bags full of groceries, but quickly shook our heads as she reached out her hand, begging. She dragged herself along, and stopped 5m away from us. As we snuck glances at her, we decided to offer her some fruit and cookies.
After 7 weeks and meeting face to face with poverty, injustice, and illness, my heart continues to break with every struggle I hear and to be uplifted with every ray of hope. After 7 weeks, I've learned that I could have all the money in the world, I could have intelligence that revolutionize systems, I could have compassion that cries at the sight of suffering, but if I have not love, I am nothing. What good is money if I don't love the poor I am supporting? What good is intellect if I don't love the beneficiaries of systems change? And what good is compassion if I don't love enough to act on my heartbreak? Nothing. Nothing is anything without love.
Yes, there are times when questions of sustainability arise. These questions should be raised a majority of the time. But also there are times, when before judging and trying to make a strategic move, it's important to simply be human and love. To let love just overwhelm you and do what your heart reveals is the right thing to do. And these moments, moments where you just love, are byfar the sweetest ones (:
04 August 2009
Ain't No Mountain High
I had the amazing opportunity to do a 3-day climb of Mt. Mulanje-Central Africa's highest point. It was my first mountain climb(because Kathleen said the mountain by the UW colleges doesn't count).
The first day, we led the pack and climbed to the plateau in 3.5h. NBD(no big deal), as Jonny says. It felt like being on the stairmaster for 3.5 straight hours.
Day 2, we opted for Chambe Peak. It was an unusually foggy day, and our guide had never been up Chambe before. Both are prerequisites for an interesting climb. The first day was a physical challenge, but this day was an emotional challenge. After 3h, we were within 200m of the peak. However, these last 200m was a vertical free climb. Free as in no harnesses, not free as in you don't have to pay. My heart raced with every move I took. I was so close, yet so far, and I was determined to make it to the top. Unfortunately, our guide was not confident in our free-climbing skills, and advised us to go back down.
Disappointing? Very much, yes. But there are many lessons you can learn from climbing a mountain, and these lessons can be applied accordingly.
I learned that foggy days can be a blessing because you can't see how close to the edge you are, and you focus solely on your steps, not fear of falling. I learned that making it to the top does not mean a constant upward climb, there are points in which you are walking straight, and there are points when you are going down. Some steps are easy, and others can't be taken without the help of a teammate. And sometimes, you have to give yourself more credit than you think. You have to trust that you will be able to pull yourself up and get your feet onto the next footholds. That when you're not sure of your steps, ask someone who can see your path more clearly than you can. I learned that sometimes going down, and taking steps back are much scarier than taking steps forward. There are times when all you want to do is keep going, ignoring your limitations, and you have to accept that maybe you won't make it. I felt the exhilaration of pushing the boundaries of nature and self, and it felt wonderful. Maybe the timing wasn't right, maybe I wasn't ready, and maybe I'll get another chance at Chambe. 2010 anyone?
The first day, we led the pack and climbed to the plateau in 3.5h. NBD(no big deal), as Jonny says. It felt like being on the stairmaster for 3.5 straight hours.
Day 2, we opted for Chambe Peak. It was an unusually foggy day, and our guide had never been up Chambe before. Both are prerequisites for an interesting climb. The first day was a physical challenge, but this day was an emotional challenge. After 3h, we were within 200m of the peak. However, these last 200m was a vertical free climb. Free as in no harnesses, not free as in you don't have to pay. My heart raced with every move I took. I was so close, yet so far, and I was determined to make it to the top. Unfortunately, our guide was not confident in our free-climbing skills, and advised us to go back down.
Disappointing? Very much, yes. But there are many lessons you can learn from climbing a mountain, and these lessons can be applied accordingly.I learned that foggy days can be a blessing because you can't see how close to the edge you are, and you focus solely on your steps, not fear of falling. I learned that making it to the top does not mean a constant upward climb, there are points in which you are walking straight, and there are points when you are going down. Some steps are easy, and others can't be taken without the help of a teammate. And sometimes, you have to give yourself more credit than you think. You have to trust that you will be able to pull yourself up and get your feet onto the next footholds. That when you're not sure of your steps, ask someone who can see your path more clearly than you can. I learned that sometimes going down, and taking steps back are much scarier than taking steps forward. There are times when all you want to do is keep going, ignoring your limitations, and you have to accept that maybe you won't make it. I felt the exhilaration of pushing the boundaries of nature and self, and it felt wonderful. Maybe the timing wasn't right, maybe I wasn't ready, and maybe I'll get another chance at Chambe. 2010 anyone?
28 July 2009
Evening Poetry
my church was wonderful enough to write me one letter for each day that i'm in malawi - that's alot of letters! the letters have been wonderful and an amazing encouragement, especially when i'm having a rougher-than-usual day. i opened my letter one night and found a poem written for me. thank you tito jonie (: no one's ever written me a poem before. it's wonderful and certainly my prayer that i can live it out (:
-------------------------------------------------
The Lord Leads Me to Africa
My precious child you made me proud
you've heed my call no matter how hard
Away from home, in Africa you'll roam
so that the love of Christ will be known
and the way, truth and life will be shown
My gentle voice will always fill your ears
so it can wash away all of your fears
You'll feel alone in the middle of nowhere
Far away from home with a burden to bear
Yet my child, all's well for your Lord is near
Kristina, never be afraid if you face a wall
when problems seemed like a mountain tall
when it's hard to go on and follow the call
don't you give up, just move on and roll
The Lord your God will take care of it all.
When the path is dark as the African night
and nothing but troubles are what's in sight
I'll light up the sky and will make it bright
don't you worry, everything will be all right
I'll hold you tight, and I'll carry you my child.
-------------------------------------------------
The Lord Leads Me to Africa
My precious child you made me proud
you've heed my call no matter how hard
Away from home, in Africa you'll roam
so that the love of Christ will be known
and the way, truth and life will be shown
My gentle voice will always fill your ears
so it can wash away all of your fears
You'll feel alone in the middle of nowhere
Far away from home with a burden to bear
Yet my child, all's well for your Lord is near
Kristina, never be afraid if you face a wall
when problems seemed like a mountain tall
when it's hard to go on and follow the call
don't you give up, just move on and roll
The Lord your God will take care of it all.
When the path is dark as the African night
and nothing but troubles are what's in sight
I'll light up the sky and will make it bright
don't you worry, everything will be all right
I'll hold you tight, and I'll carry you my child.
27 July 2009
A Day in the Life...
in case you are wondering what it's like....
6am. Sean Kingston’s “Beautiful Girl” is my 5 minute warning to get out of bed. I grab my Bible and journal and start the day off feeding my spiritual self. Breakfast consists of a banana with oatmeal or toast and peanut butter, but always a banana because Malawian bananas are wonderful (:
7:27am. Greet the day guard with “Mwadzuka bwanji” and begin my uphill commute to the office.
7:30am. Arrive at the office. From here my day takes 1 of 2 paths:
6am. Sean Kingston’s “Beautiful Girl” is my 5 minute warning to get out of bed. I grab my Bible and journal and start the day off feeding my spiritual self. Breakfast consists of a banana with oatmeal or toast and peanut butter, but always a banana because Malawian bananas are wonderful (:
7:27am. Greet the day guard with “Mwadzuka bwanji” and begin my uphill commute to the office.
7:30am. Arrive at the office. From here my day takes 1 of 2 paths:
| Office Day | Field Day |
| Start up the computer and create a quick to-do list for the day. I open Notepad and exercise my brain by hard coding web pages. I’m a code monkey. I wrestle with style sheets until I either get too frustrated - with things like why my in-line lists don’t appear to be in-line – or the code works. 9am. Out of frustration with broken code or pure joy with working style sheets, I make myself a half coffee/half chocolate before going back at it (: 10am. I’m freezing cold so I pay a visit to different program offices and set dates to do field visits. 12pm. Lunch time (: I ask the day guard how his family is. He tells me stories of his hardships and I smile politely. 1pm. I prepare tea and toast for the guard and we agree on a way that I can help. The office is empty, so I catch up on emails before working on something more creative: print or news articles for the site. 4pm. I message Kathleen to tell her how wonderful Rhoda’s cooking smells up here. We discuss food and potential dinner concoctions. | I wrap my chitenge 2x around my waist while waiting for the vehicle to be prepared. We drive to Miloso and pick up field staff and continue an hour to our destined village. 830am. We’re well on the village roads and hear countless children jumping, waving and shouting “Azungu azungu!” before running after the truck. 9am. We arrive at a village to a group of women welcoming us in song. The team gets to work – doing demonstrations, workshops, or well rehabilitations – and I watch, and try to snap photos that capture the true essence of the project. I snap a few pictures of the children, and join in their laughter as I show them their pictures. 1130am. The team finishes their work we take time to take what the village women have prepared – a drink or meal – before continuing to the next villages. 230pm. My stomach is starting to grumble as we wrap up at the last village and set off for Zomba. 4pm. Back to the mountains. I upload my photos and select the best ones for the website. |
5pm. Pack up – I must get home before it gets too dark and I can’t see the path I’m walking.
545pm. After discussing our days, Kathleen, Kirsten and I think of something creative to make for dinner.
603pm. “OH MAN…” we say simultaneously as the power goes off right when we’ve started cooking. We stumble around for matches and candles, and continue to cook on our single gas burner.
730pm. Dinner is served (always with NALI - Malawian Hot Sauce) and dessert is one piece of chocolate (must ration the chocolate!), and a banana with peanut butter. Yum =)
815pm. Dishes are done and the ironing party starts. There is someone ironing every day.
10pm. My roommates have gone to bed already and I’m still working on something. I make a hot cup of tea and toast for the night guard and ask how his family is. He tells me they’re doing well and asks me for a Bible. English, Chichewa, “Anything will do because I have no resources”, he says. I nod my head and say that I will try to get him something.
11pm. I reflect on the day and read. I pull out my daily letter from my church that always puts a smile on my face. I thank God for the day and pray for strength and wisdom, then fall asleep with more questions in my mind than I had when the day started.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
