changes and nieu beginnings

there’s nothing like a couple weeks of intense spiritual reflection — (re)ignited by emotional distress, broken by mental anguish, delayed by stubborn individualism, plagued by doubt, and then freed by love and confirmed by grace — to stun the soul and create writer’s block… thank God for Heather and her ability to continue capturing the story of our trip and of the amazing people that we’ve met along the way, because i’ve been busy trying to think through, understand, accept, trust and believe how everything fits together into this Process and precious gift called my life.

in fact, i knew this trip would be a journey of a lifetime, but i didn’t know how, where, when or why it would take me... i still don’t know completely, but that’s really what life is about —
a discovery of purpose and truth.

here are only a few elements of my recent journey and discovery:

• it takes a delicate balance to go on a journey like this with someone else, but Heather and I make a great team: accompanying each other on this adventure; caring for each other when sick; taking turns doing the wash, cleaning up, preparing food, carrying the day pack and explaining our trip to others; knowing each other’s strengths & weaknesses; lending each other an open ear and/or open arms when in need; and loving each other unconditionally and patiently… fortunately, as sisters and as each other’s best friend, we already know each other’s needs, desires, fears, habits and abilities, so it makes it easier to support each other in the ways that we need it most.

• nothing is in my control and nothing can be planned out the way i'd want it to be (as a logistical, organized, analytical project-manager type)... that's the nature of our trip, though. we don't know our every step; we only know one step at a time... and that's the way God designed it — to learn how to let go and have faith in the divine scheme of things... in others, in the circumstances, in the travel logistics, in the plan for where we're going & who we're meeting, in my past, in my present and in my future.

• life, love and growing in faith is about relationships, not about religion, doctrine, history or what society demands. i never want to stop learning this, but more recently, i've thought about it in conversation with folks at Tshwane Leadership Foundation (Pretoria), at Nieu Communities South Africa (at Pangani and in Soshanguve, near Pretoria), from 13th Floor (Pretoria), from Kids Games, at Walk in the Light (Haniville township, outside Pietermartizburg), at Africa Enterprise (innercity Pietermartizburg) and with Isinkwa Setheku (an innercity ministry to Durban's homeless)... and even in reflection from learning about David Heimann's pilgrimage for the Catholic church (even though we just barely missed him at Pangani).

can you see why i might feel overwhelmed? this has been a rollercoaster of a trip — physically and spiritually.

i stand corrected... it's out of respect

before too long, i learned to accept being excitedly called “azungu” everywhere we went by smiling and responding with “ntu” (people). i mean, i can’t deny or hide the fact that i’m white, and it’s crippling to let guilt keep me from being happy, so why not return the cheerful greeting, right?

at the same time, though, it wasn’t as easy to accept any special treatment that we seemed to receive, like when we went out to Selengo and later to Mponela (2 rural villages, each with a Ministry of Hope feeding center for the orphans and vulnerable children). on both occasions, we (the visiting guests) were asked to sit in chairs and eat inside the office, rather than being able to eat outside with the children. as you might imagine, heather and i preferred to sit among the people instead of eating off on our own somewhere, but we quickly learned that it’s a sign of respect that all guests (no matter their origin) should sit and eat indoors… so, out of respect for our hosts, we did what was expected of us even though this “special” treatment made us uncomfortable.

there are a few interesting and noteworthy signs of respect, however, that we noticed, used and felt good about sharing with others. for example:
· you always greet each & every person in a particular setting by saying hello and asking how each person is (no matter how many people ask those same people before you).
· as you extend your right hand to shake someone’s hand (that you respect), your left hand holds your right forearm just in front of the elbow.
· if you pass by an elder (typically an elder woman who might be carrying stuff on her head) while walking along a path out in “the bush” or even through a rural village, you softly & repeatedly claps your hands as you ask how she is, in passing.
· if you need to speak with someone, you approach quietly and wait at a distance (perhaps even kneeling down) until you’re noticed by the requested party.
· “washing” your hands before a meal (especially since everyone eats with their hands): one of the hosts (typically the woman) pours a pitcher of water over each person’s hands and into a small basin.

then there are some interesting cultural norms that you might not expect, like:
· helping yourself to whatever food you want without asking
· showing up unannounced
· sweeping & mopping everything once or twice a day but then dumping everything in an open-air landfill in the backyard
· event-oriented schedules instead of time-oriented ones
· no response to a sneeze
· being quick to translate (in a public speech) but not necessarily quick to understand (one-on-one)(makes you wonder how much of the message was really relayed)
· road blocks for no apparent reason
· “airtime” sold in units for cellphones as well as land-lines
· free-range goats (galore!)
· public wedding announcements at church and on TV (because everyone’s invited to everyone’s wedding here)…

the list could go on and on, but i can’t. i’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

you don’t know what you don’t know.

i can still see my 9th grade social studies teacher now (a short, older woman with a boisterous and wicked personality), narrowing her eyelids, shaking her little finger at us and continually repeating, “You all just don't know what you don't know.”

i always knew in my mind (and agreed) that what she warned us was true, but it’s always humbling to re-discover that fact first-hand, when you find that first perceptions of the unknown need to be constantly re-evaluated… in fact, that (re)discovery is exactly what this trip is about for me: an ever-evolving re-evaluating drastically-expanding positively-shaping challenging worldview.

actually, it’s quite a freeing experience to truly accept the fact that you don't know what you don't know, because that’s when you can lift the cloud of cynicism and develop enough cultural sensitivity to accept the differences without being critical or over analytical of them (or their social, political or historical contexts).

so by taking this huge leap into the unknown, i’m learning to look, listen, carefully ask questions, observe some more, trust God in this (my) Process, and keep myself in check when it comes to judging others for what they do (& why).

in fact, the more i (re)discover about this world around me, the more excited i get about being out in it, exploring it for myself, and taking full advantage of this incredibly unique opportunity… in fact, i refuse to let guilt (obligation, privilege), fear (the unknown), materialism (attachments, acquisition) or acceptance by others (and approval) be the driving forces behind what makes me do what i do… the only driving force that i want to accept is that unmeasurable, unexplainable, positive & personal urge that bubbles up from depths of my soul, aka God, and the love that controls it, aka divine will.

that’s why i do what i do… that’s why i’m on this trip… that’s what helps me accept the fact that i just don’t know what i don’t know.

the warm heart of Africa

with a landmass only the size of Pennsylvania, Malawi cradles the third largest lake in Africa. most of the terrain we've seen (only in the Central region) is red dirt carpeted by dried grass and sprinkled with palms, fruit trees, huge baobab trees and other various deciduous trees that you might find in a semi-arid climate. in the rainy season, it's hot and the earth floods, and rural people who risk settling in the lower elevations lose everything -- their grey or red clay-brick homes with grass-thatched roofs, their goats or cattle, and their crops... right now, though, it's dry and quite mild in temperature.

i'm sure that just about any time of year, though, people of all ages are walking and riding their bikes all over the place. they fill both sides of the road, carrying all kinds of things on their bikes (like other people, boxes of goods, some new tin to patch up their roofs, bags of maize, or a string of recently killed chickens) or they carry things on top of their heads (like buckets of water, baskets of produce, or a stack of suitcases, to name a few)... in fact, on our way down to the lake last week for a youth retreat with the Ministry of Hope (MoH), i noticed that if folks along the road weren't trying to get somewhere, then they're hanging out with their friends, they're checking out other passers-by, they're helping to fix each others bikes at make-shift bike stands, or they're selling something along side other people selling the same thing (whether it's call time at "telephone booths," fairly used auto tires, hand-woven baskets, roasted mice on a stick, or corn in one town, potatoes in the next or tomatoes in the next) . it's as if the road is their social & commercial outlet in addition to being their avenue for transportation... it's amazing.

another amazing thing is that, amid other war-torn and pillaged countries in Africa, Malawi is known as "the warm heart of Africa." i think one reason this is the case is that its people are so friendly and overly hospitable. you can immediately sense it as everyone always formally greets each other with "hello, how are you?" ("muli bwanji?", "mazuka bwanji?" or "maswera bwanji?"). no matter how often you might meet someone, how many people might ask you in the same setting or whether you've already answered the question, you'll most definitely be greeted with one of these questions at the appropriate time of day... it's interesting because this formality seems to be one of the many cultural norms that might get lost in translation once it's introduced to someone who's not from here.

in fact, there are quite a few cultural phenomena here, all of which would be interesting to evaluate in terms of how they might have been lost in translation (among Malawians) after British colonialists tried to "civilize" their African society not long ago... for example, the immense respect for authority as well as all the formalities around "programming" agendas here, such as at the Ministry of Hope (MoH) Founders Celebration a few days after we arrived. it was wonderful to hear testimonies from a variety of the ministry's beneficiaries (i.e. two adoptive parents, a young man who survived hunger thanks to the one meal a day he received at one of the six MoH feeding centers, and a grandmother whose grandchild regained strength through the care & food provided at the Crisis Nursery); however, as each speaker respectfully thanked each "distinguished guest" and began almost every statement with "ladies and gentlemen," i wondered how they could be so formal while their culture seemed so informal, relaxed, and even quite disorganized at times... it's ironic.

the phenomena lies in the contradiction between people's actions and their attitudes toward organization (as well as their respect for authority). while there are times when folks are very particular about keeping a schedule, there are many more times when they don't seem to worry too much about it, especially when their livelihood or integrity don't depend on it... that's when things just happen on "African time"-- eventually or never.

another phenomenon is the fact that folks here, especially children, typically stare at us and excitedly call out "azungu, azungu" (white people)... then, if we smile and wave at them, they might smile and wave back, but generally they just stare and seemingly wait for us to do something which they tend to then mimic.(i wish i had a better picture, but taking photos is a cultural faux pas and sometimes potentially dangerous.)

as you might be able to imagine, this made me immediately question and over-analyze the causes for their wide-eyed curiosity and over-eager desire to be like us... this initial observation, coupled with my incessant guilt over the oppression for which my white ancestors may have been responsible, made me relapse for a short time into feeling bad about going on this trip... however, i decided once again to let go of that mental vice and embrace a new idea that could explain a very small part of this phenomenon. in conversation with our friend Yohane, i grew to understand one basic reason why kids here might be so eager to check us "azungu" out: that unlike their parents & elders, we come to them wanting to play & have fun rather than to discipline & rebuke them... not to mention that we're different and come from a place that they've only heard about and that they can only imagine/learn more by watching us.

i don't know that i can fully accept that explanation, but it sure helped me raise up the curtain of cynicism which covered my eyes and prevented me from spreading the peace and love i set out to share with the world.

waiting to leave camp