Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The Chills

Have you ever gotten the chills?

You know, when goosebumps run up your back.

When do you get them?

I got them on Sunday, in a pretty intense way. I was invited to accompany one of my friends to her roommate's gospel choir performance. Having been in a gospel choir, and loving gospel music, I jumped at the opportunity. The performance included two different choirs, one from Lasalle Street Church, which was composed predominantly of white people, and the other from South Street Church, which was composed predominantly of black people. I must admit, though the Lasalle Street choir was great and sounded beautiful, the South Street choir carried an energy and skill that was something to be striven for. However, that wasn't the climax of the performance. The part of the performance that gave me intense chills was when the two choirs joined together, blending their voices and combining their parts. The voice I heard from these two choirs together spoke truth. But I'll get back to that. Let me go back to the chills for a little bit.

I get the chills on a pretty regular occasion, but I experience a very wide range of types of chills. There's a whole spectrum that I experience, from the very minute tingle in the back of my neck, all the way up to a shiver that shakes my whole body, in what can be a pretty violent shimmy. Some of you may have witnessed one of those shuddering shimmies of mine; they jump out of nowhere sometimes.

In addition to the wide range of physical expressions of the chills, I've also noticed that my chills can be inspired by very different stimuli. I sometimes get the chills in response to a cool breeze or draft of air running down my back or hitting me in the face. But I can also get the chills, sometimes to a very intense degree, when someone speaks words that strike my heart chord, when I gaze my eyes upon a beautiful landscape, when I witness an act of pure-hearted love, compassion, trust, or joy, or, when a spirit moving sound of music or voice hits my ear drums.

I just looked up the definition of the chills, and it looks like the medical phenomenon to which the slang refers to, cutis anserina, is a little different than what I'm talking about. Cutis anserina refers to the little bumps that form when a tiny little muscle at the base of our hair follicles contracts causing our hair to stand up. Apparently, this response is sparked by a nerve discharge from our sympathetic nervous system, a part of our autonomic nervous system, the system that regulates organ function and our fight or flight response. I could get into a discussion of all that stuff, but I do have a point to this post that I'd like to get to eventually, (and, if you're still reading this, you'd probably like me to get there eventually too) so I'm just going to leave that stuff there and try to get where I'm going. If you're interested, though, I love talking about all that physiological stuff, so shoot me a line.

What I was trying to get to with that last paragraph is that what I call the chills is not only that physical response of our hair standing up and our skin getting little bumps. It is true that that happens to me sometimes when I get the chills, but it doesn't always--maybe only half of the time. Usually, though, what I call the chills is a tingle or warmth that seems to, depending on the situation, shoot up, roll up, or even just glow up my back, seemingly running along my spine. However, it doesn't always have an external manifestation. Often, it is something that I seem to feel on the inside. It is as if there is a string tied from my head to the core of my body, and certain things have the ability to play that string, sending vibrations of energy through my inner being. Sometimes, when that string is hit, the note that is played sends a rush through my body. It can even move me to tears.

The experience of that note being played is one of the most beautiful experiences of being alive for me. When that string is pulled, something moves inside of me that lets me know that I am alive, that I'm human. And while this movement sometimes expresses itself on a physical level, I also feel it is something deeply spiritual. It is as if that string is tied between my soul and my body, the connection between my spiritual side and my physical side. The experience of this movement is one of the reasons I believe in a God.

It has often been when seeing, hearing, or feeling things having to do with God that I've most intensely experienced this inner vibration. Something inside of me resonates with the idea of God, a creating source, an original home, the essence of love, the uniting element between all things. When confronted with things of beauty, things of love, things of joy, and things of compassion, something tells me they are true and real, that they exist, surround us, and compose us. These things are not physical, and we cannot see them or touch them, but in my life they have been so real--so real that I cannot deny their existence. And spirit is the best word I've found to describe what they are. This is what God is to me--that spirit that is beauty, love, joy, compassion, and more. It is something that I can see in other people, and something that I believe is in all people. It is the spirit that leads to creating art, paintings, music, sculptures, and even chairs, desks, houses, cars, and food. It is the spirit that leads to creating friendships, marriages, families, and babies (that fourth of the four F's). It is what moves us humans to offer ourselves, to give of ourselves, and even to sacrifice of ourselves for others. I believe it is this spirit that motivates life and inspires the potential within us.

I've also seen it in other things--in trees, mountains, rivers, rain, sunshine, snow, flowers, stars, the wind, and so much more. That spirit is God to me, and when I sense it around me, the spirit within me resonates. The chills are a physical expression of that resonance for me, and the way I've experienced them tells me God is real. I don't think any religion has done an excellent job of painting a picture of God, but I think all religions hold some pixel of truth. I think religion helps point us in a direction toward God, but the world around us, the life we live, does such a better job of showing us what God is.

The voices I heard last Sunday, the sound it made, and the sight of those people was a glimpse of God for me. It sent chills through me, body and soul.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Yard work

I think I found another reason why things didn't work for me in Malawi: yard work.

I really like yard work. And though there was definitely work around our volunteer house that had to be done, and though, as the other volunteers in my community could attest to, I didn't always jump at the opportunity to do that work, it is true that I didn't often have the opportunity to do routine yard work like cutting the grass or trimming the hedges. In fact, our volunteer community would intentionally choose not to do some of the yard work around our house. I think we choose not to do it for good reasons. It just that I didn't like the fact that I didn't get to do it on a regular occasion. Or perhaps, more accurately, what I didn't like is that I didn't have to do it on a regular occasion. And here I'm going to shift off my yard work topic for a bit, but I'll get back to it.

You see, many of the students at Chaminade or at MIRACLE, as well as some of our neighbors or other people from the community, would often come to our house to ask for 'piece work.' Piece work in Malawi is work that a person can do for a particular amount of time but is not a long-term or permanent source of income. It's something someone will do for a day or a couple of days in order to earn a small sum of cash. Many of our students really needed this work. They used the money to help pay their school fees, or to buy their school uniforms, or even to pay for transportation to and from school. And really, they often had no other way to earn it. Typically, a person would get paid about 300 Malawian Kwacha for one full day's work, roughly from 7AM until 4PM, including a cooked lunch. This is what we would pay our pieceworkers. 300 Malawian Kwacha is equal to about $2.14. Sound ridiculous, right? Well, that is what is a typical earning for a full day of work in Malawi, so we stuck with it. Though $2.14 seems absolutely trivial to us in the States, that $2.14 was more than many Malawians make. $2.14/day is what Malawians with a job would make, and most Malawians don't have paying jobs. Most Malawians live off of subsistence farming. So, I'm glad we didn't do our yard work. We had enough money in our budget to provide opportunities for our students and neighbors to do work, and I'm glad we were able to help them earn some money. I do think, however, that doing yard work is important for a healthy mind, a healthy spirit, and a healthy body. At least, it is for me. And this is where I'll get back to the topic of yard work.

Yesterday, I trimmed the hedges around our front yard. And I liked it! It took me close to two hours, and, though I was using an electric hedge trimmer, it was hard work. My hands got tired from holding the hedge trimmer, my back, arms, and shoulders felt the strain of the repetitive motions. And my muscles were tired by the time I had to bend over to lift the piles of branches and leaves into the garbage can. Despite the tedious work of it and despite any discomfort from it, I really enjoyed doing it, and it brought back to me a feeling I remember from all the days I spent doing yard work throughout my childhood and young adult life.

I never really wanted to do yard work. It was more often something I had to do when my mom told me to so. And you can ask her, I didn't always want to do it. But, whenever I did finally put on my shoes, muster myself out to the back porch to get the needed rake, shovel, or mower, and lowered my shoulder into that not-so-glamorous work, I usually ended the day with a sense of pride and a feeling of joy.

I think there is something inherently joyful about doing yard work. First of all, it gives us an opportunity, an excuse, or sometimes forces us, to get outside! Whenever we do yard work, we're brought up close and personal with the beauty of nature: the smell of freshly cut grass and spring flowers in the trees, the sight of a chipper squirrel seeking out a nut to steal back to her nest, the sound of a nearby songbird singing his song, the weighty feel of a log or branch needing to be moved, and the bittersweet taste of a raspberry plucked two-weeks before you should have. These things are so life-giving, and I don't think I'd want to live somewhere I couldn't enjoy them. Yard work reminds us to stop our busy schedules and get out and enjoy the beauty of nature. Second of all, yard work is physical work, and we all know how important physical activity is for our hearts, minds, and souls. Last night, when I finally got back inside, sat down, and pulled off my shoes, I had the feeling of having done good work. My body was happy having worked hard and having used the muscles I was given. Yard work gets us active in the middle of a lifestyle that has become predominantly sedentary. And finally, yard work helps us respect and appreciate the environment we inhabit. I know whenever I cut the grass, or when I look at the hedges I just trimmed, or after I clear out overgrown bushes, I stop and look at the job before heading in, or I take notice of it the next time I get home from being out, and I take a bit of pride in this land that I've cared for. Granted, I don't live on a farm or anything, but I take joy in the little work I do to keep up, maintain, and beautify my home.

And that's why I like yard work. But don't get me wrong, especially if you're my mom reading this. This doesn't mean I want to be outside every day or even every other day doing yard work. Yard work shouldn't be something that takes over your life. There's so much more to enjoy in life! Yard work is just one of them.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

It's been a few weeks

I realized the other day that it had been a few weeks since the last time I posted on here, so I thought I'd hop on here and put up a post.

The week and a half from April 17th until April 27th was probably one of the most fun week and a halfs (can I say "week and a halfs"?) I've ever had. During those 10 days, I had the opportunity and ability to travel to a few different cities and focus pretty much all of my time and energy on spending time with friends. I want to write down all of the awesome things I got to do and all of the wonderful people I got to spend time with, but it would probably take me too long. If you're reading this and I spent time with you in Dayton, Indy, Cincy, or anywhere in between, know that I consider the time I shared with you to be an incredible gift. I'd also like to thank all the people who stretched out some form of generosity or hospitality, without which my little trip wouldn't have been possible; THANK YOU.

Now that I've returned back home and have returned to the commonality of daily life, I'm left with a couple of questions: why was this trip so life-giving and joyful, and why can't everyday be like those ten days were?

Well, I think part of the reason everyday can't be like those ten days is because it cost money to do a lot of the things I did, and during those ten days, I didn't do anything to earn that money. It was all money I had saved up. Furthermore, ten days of traveling around and hanging out with friends is pretty wonderful, but any more than that would probably get old. We all need a sense of purpose and a point to our lives. We need a sense of accomplishment, that we are doing something of value and something worthwhile. I imagine this is the hardest part of being unemployed or of being a parent whose children have grown out of their need for them. And I think this was part of my struggle for my first couple months in Malawi. It's also what I'm beginning to face here without yet having found something towards which I can focus my gifts, talents, energies, and passions. But what do we do when it seems like there just aren't any opportunities for us to use those gifts, talents, energies, and passions? Hmm...I don't think I have answer to that just yet.

So what, then, made my ten day friend adventure so nourishing and fulfilling? Well, I think it had something to do with the fact that I was able to be 100% present wherever I was. I had nothing else on my mind except the people right next to me. I didn't have to worry about an assignment or some project, some lesson plan or some schedule. The entire focus of my mind and spirit was on enjoying and appreciating the good and the beauty in the people I was with and in the places I was at.

I think this is something we often forget to do when we have important jobs and tasks to accomplish. We become so fixated on the things we accomplish, the rewards we earn, and the ways we succeed, that we run out of time or energy to simply appreciate the good and the beauty around us. I think our consumerist and materialist culture helps us in this process too. We're always looking for what's new or what's nicer, that it's sometimes hard for us to be content with what we have, to be at peace with what we have, or even better, to be genuinely happy with what we have. How much does that stink? And I'm just as much of a victim as the next person. I have to admit, I LOVE Express clothing. I think Express designs and sells incredibly attractive clothing that is comfortable to wear and compliments the way a person looks. For the past three weeks, Express has been sending me emails informing me of all kinds of deals on their clothes. There are currently about 5 different pieces on sale at Express.com that I want to purchase, and if I had it my way, I'd probably purchase multiple colors of each item. I don't really need them, but I want them, and because I want them, I'm finding it more difficult to be content with the clothes I have, even though I don't really need 3 more Fitted Stretch 1MX dress shirts of various colors. But our culture rewards and respects people who wear nice clothes. And I like that boost of confidence I get when I put on that nice-fitting shirt, a perfect color for the occasion, with my stylish jeans. So what's a guy to do? Where does that bring us?

Well, I think it brings us somewhere in the middle. Work is a good thing. We all yearn for a sense of purpose, and we all need the nourishment of accomplishment. But we shouldn't let our focus on purpose and accomplishment drown out our ability to be present with the people around us, to appreciate who they are, the gifts they have, the humor they carry, and the stories they share. And nice clothes are a nice thing. Wearing them encourages us, helps us feel confident about who we are, and, often, celebrates the beautiful form of our bodies. But we should be careful not to let ourselves get too focused on building up an expansive collection of nice clothes. Not only will we end up spending lots of money that could be used for other, more life-giving things, but we could fall into the trap of failing to be happy with what we have and neglecting to appreciate all the wonderful things around us that we don't have to buy.

Life is so good, and so is most of what is in it. I think we people are just a little bit addictive with things, so we have to remember to appreciate the good things for what they are without going so far as to neglecting all the other great things around us.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

What a gift

I've been home for three weeks now, and with Easter tomorrow, I couldn't think of a better time to write about the incredible blessings that surround me.

Since arriving home, things have been more than wonderful. I have spent much of the past three weeks with friends and family, enjoying their company and appreciating their presence. I could not have asked for, or even dreamed of, a better welcome home. It has been very nourishing, encouraging, and in many ways very healing. At the same time, I know that I haven't necessarily hit the ground yet. I've had near a hundred different people cushioning my arrival, and guiding me gently back to this place. Soon, though, I know I will be entering back into the daily grind, which can be daunting or disappointing compared to the continuous fun I've been having during these initial weeks back. However, in many ways, I'm very excited to do so. Though "normal life" isn't as fun as simply focusing on spending fun time with friends and family, I'm excited to enter into daily life carrying some of the new lessons I've learned from my experience in Malawi.

Coming from Malawi, I am absolutely enamored by the abundant blessings we enjoy here in America, and here in the places we call home. Wherever our home may be, we have the assets of all of our friends and all of our family surrounding us, supporting us, and walking this journey with us. WHAT A GIFT!

I was speaking with a good friend of mine just the other day, and after he mentioned that "normal life sucks," I expressed one of the things I'm beginning to see as a major lesson from my Malawian adventure. Yes, it is true that normal life sometimes sucks. "Normal life" seemingly lacks the thrill, adventure, and glory that things like college life or going across the world to volunteer have. At times it normal life is monotonous. Other times, it is difficult and can even be painful. However, the beautiful thing is that here, at the places we call home, we have a network of family and friends surrounding us, supporting us when we are weak, celebrating with us when we succeed, and all along, walking this sometimes monotonous, sometimes painful journey with us. And when you have that, what else really matters? Life is going to suck sometimes. But if you have people who are willing to share in that suckiness with you, who are willing to hold your hand through it, are things really that bad? In someways, I think some of the sweetest experiences in life are when we go through something difficult, something ugly and painful, and we are accompanied by someone who loves us. By no means does this mean I'm going to go around looking for difficult, ugly, and painful experiences. I just got home from one of those, and I can do quite nicely without another one. But from what I've seen of life, it seems like those experiences just come sometimes. You can't avoid them. But how lucky are we that we've been given a life where even the darkest of moments can be transformed by the love shared with us?

The scary thing is that not everyone has that. That is what I think would suck.

With this life I have, whatever it brings, I now see the incredible treasures I have in my friends and family around me. Come what may, I am blessed beyond belief with the gifts of these friends and family. It took me being a bit cut off from them, literally a world apart, to realize the incredible endownment I have been given. That realization in and of itself is an incredible gift, not to mention the gift that that realization is about. As difficult or sucky as things in Malawi might have been, I am so grateful for some of the incredible things I have returned with as a result of my sometimes not so pleasant experiences. Even more so, I am so grateful for the incredible people to which I have returned, waiting with open arms to encompass me with love.







To all these beautiful people in my life and to more, thank you.

Life is beautiful, even when it sucks. It sometimes just takes us a little bit of work to appreciate the beauty around us.

What kind of beauty surrounds you right now?

Can you do a better job of appreciating it?

I know I can.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

"Holy Eggplant!"

Earlier this week, I made my first trip to a grocery store here in the US since arriving back here from Malawi. Surprisingly, I wasn't too overwhelmed by the abundance of aisles, stocked full of food; at least at first. I went to the grocery store that I've been going to for my whole life, so the familiarity of it probably helped tone down the degree of shock I felt.

Though I wasn't blown back by shock, again, at first, I did notice that it took me a REALLY long time to go up and down the aisles. My mom had given me a list of things to pick up, and I found that I was having an incredibly difficult time trying to find the products she was asking for; there were just SOO many different types, brands, styles, and flavors of food. It took me about 5 minutes just to pick out a loaf of white bread for my mom. Why are there so many varieties of bread? I've never noticed it before, but there were probably at least 150 different varieties of bread in the bread aisle.

I'm also pretty sure the young woman at the Deli counter thought I had never seen a Deli before. I walked up to the counter somewhat befuzzled, out of practice with the whole procedure. I gingerly pulled off a number only moments before she looked up at me and asked me what I needed. A little startled, I hesitated, trying to recall what it was that my mom wanted.
...."uh...turkey?"
She laughed a little and asked me, "Okay, what kind of turkey."
"Shoot," I thought, "There's more than one kind of turkey?"
..another pause...
"Umm...which kind is the cheapest?"
"They all are. Today, we have three kinds of turkey on sale for $1.99 a pound." She then listed off the three varieties of turkey on sale that day.
Crap.
"Uh. Let's go with the honey one."
"Okay, how much would you like?"
Dang, there's so many freaking options!
"1lb is good, I think."
"And would you like that sliced thick or thin?"
Are you serious! "How about medium?"

She then sliced one piece, held it over the counter for me to see, and asked if the thickness was good for me.
"Yes. That looks great."

The woman laughed several times throughout the ordeal at my tones, facial expressions, and, I'm sure, my overall confusion at the whole process.

Everything else was going relatively well, besides the fact that I was taking forever and a day to get through the store. I used to go shopping for my mom in high school, and I would be able to fly through the entire store in about 30 minutes. This time, my mom went to run some errands when she dropped me off, and when she returned about 30 minutes later, I had only gone through three aisles. It was a good thing she came because by the time I hit the produce section, I was pretty much useless.

Our produce section is at the back of the store, on the opposite side of the door you come in. The designed the store so that it is the last thing to go through before you check out. When we rounded the corner into this area of the store, my eyes were instantly grabbed by the abundance of brilliant colors bursting from every counter, stand, and cooler. There were SO MANY FRUITS AND VEGETABLES! I couldn't believe it! And they were all so brightly colored! Probably spray painted with dyes, but still, they were BEAUTIFUL! And everything was so BIG! After meandering around for a bit, I caught my eyes on an eggplant the size of my head! In Malawi, we had eggplant, every once in a while, but you were lucky if there were any bigger than your fist. It was unbelievable! I'm pretty sure my mom had to do the rest of the shopping. I think once I saw all of the varieties of fruits and vegetables, my mouth just dropped open, and I floated around the produce section with my eyes wide open trying to absorb the shiny, colorful, bigness of the genetically altered, hormonally infused produce before me. I found I didn't really care what they did to the food to make it that way--I was happily seduced by it's abundance and it's beauty.

I'm guessing that in some time, after my initial excitement to be back in the land of plenty wears off, I'll probably come face to face with the dramatic disparity between what we have here and what much of the rest of the world has. But until then, I think I'm just going to enjoy the bounty we have here. I don't think I'm ready yet to allow myself to acknowledge the inequality that I have had the opportunity to witness. I think if I did so now, I would just become angry and bitter about it, and I definitely don't think that would do anyone any good. It's true we have been blessed with abundance here in the US. But I don't think we are supposed to feel guilty about that. I do believe we should be joyful about it. And we should be grateful of it. And we should try to share it as fully as we can. As a culture, I'm not sure how well we are doing at any of those three things. But I think that is where we should focus our energy, and, when I'm ready, I think that's where I'm going to focus mine. To be joyful, grateful, and to share. It's funny that little kids are so skilled at doing those things which are so critical to a good life, while us grown ups fail pretty miserably at them so often. Let's take some lessons from the little ones.

And a funny little note to end with: After leaving the produce section, we made our way to the check out. While waiting in line for the check out, I wandered into the wine and alcohol aisle. I had a very similar, though slightly less pure-hearted, response in the alcohol aisle as I did in the produce section. I was excited and in awe of the abundance, variety, bigness, and colorfulness of all of the beverages. I wanted to take a taste of every one! Good thing I didn't, though! I definitely would have blacked-out before I even made it a quarter of the way through the aisle. In any case, I think the same thing goes for beverages like that: we should be grateful for them, joyful with them, and we should definitely share. :)

Monday, March 30, 2009

new title, new look, new journey

As you can see, my blog has taken on a new look and a new title. These changes symbolize the transition from my African adventure to my new journey from here.

During my time in Malawi, I received a lot of compliments about my blogs, and I've been encouraged to continue writing by a lot of different people, so I'm going to try to give the people what they want. :) I've also found it to be a cool way to keep people updated on what's going on in my life, so that's another reason for keeping it going.

Though my new stories might not seem as exotic as experiences from a far away place, I hope you enjoy reading them, and as always, feel free to shoot me a line, leave me a comment, or share your own thoughts.

Thanks for sharing this journey with me.

Peace,
Andy

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

I'M HOME!

I made it home to Chicago safely and soundly last Saturday around 3:30PM Chicago time. It's pretty exciting to be home, and I've already gotten to spend some great time with family and some of my best friends. The next couple of weeks also look to be filled with time with good friends and family, and I couldn't be more overjoyed. Being so far from home really helps you appreciate the true gift that home is.

I want to thank all of you for the prayers and support you have continued to share with me.

I'm not sure if I will continue writing on here, but I do feel I have some more things I can write about my experience in Africa. And then, beyond that, I think it would be interesting to continue writing about my experiences and where I go from here. So stay tuned in, and let's see where this crazy adventure of life leads next.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Coming Home

I'm writing this from an internet cafe in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, so unfortunately, it will be much shorter than I'd like. Also, I had intended on writing this blog sooner, but the past few weeks have been a bit hectic, so I didn't have the chance to sit down and write something.

As many of you probably already know, but, unfortunately, as some of you don't know, I'm finishing up my time in Africa, and I'm coming home.

There are various reasons for my coming home, and if you're interested in hearing more about them, please feel free to contact me. Essentially, though, I found that being in Karonga, Malawi was not a match for me. At times, I had a really hard time being my true self there, and that was making things very difficult for me. Though the decision was very difficult to make because of all of the things I have fallen in love with in Malawi, I do believe this is the best decision with me, and I am excited to get back home where I can better find the things I need to thrive.

Thank you for all of your support over these months, and please keep me in your prayers as I enter into another new beginning.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Birth Control

Birth control was not something I thought I would need when I made the decision to come to Africa. Boy, was I wrong. Birth control is something my community and I need quite desperately. Otherwise, we might have a bunch of little ones running around our house in a number of months. However, contrary to some of the local gossip, the birth control is not for us volunteers; it's for our dogs.

The Therese Volunteer Community has two very beautiful and friendly female dogs named Special (named after the popular Carlsburg beer here) and Teteza (means "Protection" in Chichewa). Though Teteza is still in her pre-teen years, we are expecting that quite soon, she'll be ready to start bearing offspring, and we do not want that to happen. Special, on the other hand, is in the prime of her life, and the guys in the neighborhood know it. About two months ago, Special was in heat, and we had every male dog in the Karonga area coming to see if Special wanted to "play." Right away we saw the intentions of these boys, so like any caring parent, we locked our little girl in the house and wouldn't let her go out at night. We also heard that we could go to the public hospital and pick up some expired birth control injections, which would still work on a dog. Several members of our community went to the hospital to inquire about the birth control, but none were successful. Luckily, keeping Special inside and throwing rocks at every male dog that even looked at our house kept her from getting pregnant. Unfortunately, from what I've been told, dogs go into heat about every 21 days until they become pregnant. So about three weeks ago, the boys started coming back around. Special hated being inside, and she would usually end up going to the bathroom in one of our rooms. Most often, it was the room where we store our food. She has a particular liking for peeing on our potatoes. We NEEDED to get some birth control for her.

We all made a commitment to go to the hospital and see if we could convince them to provide us with the injection. We have several friends who are nurses here who had already expressed willingness to inject Special once we got the injection.

About two weeks ago, Molly and I were heading into town to pick up some snacks for a party with the MIRACLE staff. On the way into town, the brothers had to stop at the hospital to check up on one of the students. As the brothers got out, I looked over to Molly and said, "Should we try to get the birth control." She looked back at me with a silly, somewhat hesitant smile. We both knew we needed to get it, and so we decided to go for it.

We walked into the hospital, giggling about what were were about to do, and found our way to the pharmacy. We knocked on the door, and after a few minutes, a receptionist of sorts came to the door. Molly explained that she was looking for some birth control and was wondering if she could get it there. The receptionist said she would have to get a pharmacist, so she went back to another room. A few minutes later a man came out to see what we needed. Molly explained again what she was looking for, this time using depoprovera, the name of the birth control injection. The pharmacist asked, "What do you need it for?" Both of us looked at each other confused, and Molly responded, "Birth control." The pharmacist knew that, so he tried again by asking, "Is it for service." Now slightly more confused, Molly and I looked at each other not knowing how to respond. "What do you mean," we asked. The he said, "Is it for service or personal use?" Aha! We still didn't know what service meant, but personal use sounded like it was what we wanted so we went with that. (One of the volunteers before had explained that we wanted to use it on our dog, and they said that wasn't allowed, so we were avoiding that explanation.)

The pharmacist said that we would have to see someone else about that, so he told us to follow him. He brought us back outside the hospital and led us toward the maternity ward. He pointed to a woman in blue who was standing in front of a long line of women with their babies, and she was weighing each of the babies. Neither of us wanted to interrupt this woman's work just so we could get birth control for our dog, but we decided just to ask her where we should go, and see what happens from there.

The nurse led us inside the small building she was working outside of. When we walked in, we found ourselves in a narrow hallway crowded with women standing and sitting in all open spaces, waiting for someone to respond to whatever their particular needs were. The nurse had us follow her to a door marked "Family Planning," and knocked on the door. The door opened, and the nurse instructed Molly to go in. Not wanting to leave Molly alone in some little room in a public hospital in Malawi, I followed Molly inside. We found three nurses in the little room. They greeted us and then asked us how they could help us. Molly explained what she was looking for once again, and the nurses looked at us both with questioning eyes. One of the first questions the main nurse asked while pointing to me was, "Is this your husband?" Molly looked at me, smiled and giggled a little bit, and responded "Yeah!" Her tone suggested more of a, "Sure, he can be my husband if that's what you're looking for." Malawi is a deeply Christian country and to say that the two of us weren't married would be a good way not to get birth control. The two of us shouldn't be having sex if we weren't married. This is very true, but we couldn't tell them that the birth control was for our dog. I remained mostly silent for all of this.

The nurses laughed and smiled a bit, one of them making some kind of joke in Chitumbuka from what I could pick up from nonverbals. Then, the main nurse asked Molly a number of questions:
Nurse: "Do you have a baby now?"
Molly: "No"
Nurse: "Do you want a baby now?"
Molly: "No"
Nurse: "When do you think you would like a baby?"
Molly: "...Uuhhhh...I don't know...mmm...5 years?"
Nurse: "Why don't you want a baby now?"
Molly: "We're not ready yet."
Nurse: "So you want to practice family planning"
Molly: "Yes."
[The nurse pauses, smiles, and looks up at me.]
Me: [In a very confident and self confirming voice] "Family planning is important."

Molly just about burst into laughter at my ridiculous comment, but she did a good job of containing it. I giggled a bit after I realized how silly that response was, and I'm laughing now as I write about it. The nurse looked at me as if I was brainless.

The nurse saw that we were looking for birth control, that we didn't want to have a baby, and that we wanted to practice family planning. Both Molly and I agreed afterward that the nurse knew we weren't married, and we figured they saw that we were just excited to try to get birth control, which means they probably thought we were doing you-know-what.

Finally, the nurse agrees to get us the birth control. Success! Or so we thought. The nurses exit the room, leaving Molly and I to laugh about what had just transpired, what we got ourselves in the middle of, and how to go about the rest of the situation. We even came up with alias names so that it would be harder for anyone to identify us. We decided on Desmond and Molly Jones, inspired by the characters in Obladi Oblada by the Beatles.

Soon after, the door opened again, and the main nurse returned with a box of the birth control injection. After setting the box down, the nurse immediately went for the windows and began closing them, probably to provide some privacy. Molly and I glanced at each other with frightened looks, knowing what that meant. Quickly, we both spoke up, "Uhh! We...have a question!"

We explained to the nurse that we have a friend who is a nurse and we were hoping that we would be able to take the injection home so that our friend could give the injection. We told her that Molly was a little nervous about getting the injection and so she wanted the comfort of having a friend do the injection. The nurse was a little bit confused so we explained it again. Once she realized we were asking to simply take the injection with us, she told us that they only do the injection there and they can't allow someone to just take it. Disappointed, we decided we had pursued this as far as it goes. We told the nurse that we weren't comfortable enough and that we would come again later. We then both ran out of the office, out of the maternity ward, and back towards the car, laughing, giggling, and smiling about what we had just done. We're curious still about what kind of news about this event will spread. As we were walking away from the maternity ward, Molly heard someone call her name. She works with many women in the villages through the Women's Empowerment Program, so it's a good chance that one of those woman were in line and saw the two of us coming out of the Family Planning office. Hopefully, they didn't infer what we were doing there, but if they did, and if word gets back around to our places of work, we'll probably have some explaining to do. The positive thing is that all of our co-workers know that we don't want anymore litters of puppies, and they know the lengths to which we have gone to try to prevent Special's pregnancy. As ridiculous as it is, it won't sounds too uncharacteristic for us to explain to them that we were trying to getting birth control for our dog.

:) Where else could I get into something like this? :)

Saturday, January 31, 2009

A little on the brighter side

Recently, many of my posts have been pretty heavy. And let's be honest, sometimes, that heaviness just gets to be too much. And honestly, though this past week has brought some twists, turns, and troubles I wasn't necessarily anticipating, there are many things starting to look up. AND THAT IS GREAT NEWS!

So some things from the past week. We celebrated Chaminade day here at Chaminade Mission on Friday, January 23rd. Traditionally, Marianist Institutions celebrate a day in honor of Chaminade on January 22nd, the day of Chaminade's death. For practical reasons, we moved it to Friday. The day was filled with great fun and sharing. Our goal in planning this day was to bring the different parts of Chaminade Mission more closely together. There are three schools running on this campus: Chaminade Boarding School, Chaminade Open School, and MIRACLE Technical College. From what we've heard and observed, these three schools haven't spent much time interacting in the past few years, and there has been a clear space between students, staff, and members of each of the schools. We aimed Chaminade Day to be a day to bring all of this people together under the Family Spirit inspired by Chaminade.

The day went quite wonderfully, starting with small groups (we called them families) facilitated by various members of staff from each of the school and including a generous mixture of students from different grade levels, different schools, and different classes. The family time was followed by a skit and talk about Chaminade. The skit was quite hilarious; we've got some real characters here. Then we started a variety show with a number performed by us volunteers and the Marianist brothers. Molly, Sarah, and I choreographed a dance, which we then practiced with the brothers. We used the song ABC, by Michael Jackson, and it was a BLAST! We then shared Mass, all ate lunch together, dance in a disco, and ended the day with a football match between the two schools. Aside from a few gliches, and the fact that all of us volunteers were absolutely worn out, the day was a HUGE success. We are all looking forward to next year when we can get the teachers and staff more intimately involved in all of the activities.

Then, on Saturday, all of us volunteers wanted to cut loose a little bit so we went out to Planet K dot A, the dance club here in Karonga, and danced the night away. We all were pretty tired, so we didn't want to stay too far past midnight, but we didn't have to try to hard to cut the night off. Planet K dot A has mirrors on all of the walls, and a number of the mirrors are a little bit broken. In the euphoric state I usually find myself in when dancing, I failed to take enough caution and put enough distance between myself and one of the broken mirrors. With one quick shimmy, a thrust-filled shake, and a passionate swing of my arms, my elbow made direct contact with the corner of one of the broken mirrors. About 30 minutes earlier, Molly had done the same thing, but since she isn't quite as passionate of a dancer as I, her injury was not much more than a paper cut. I on the other hand, had gouged a chunk of my elbow skin out an was bleeding profusely. Consequently, our night of dancing was over, and we fled the scene before I could get my blood on anyone (minus the man who grabbed my forearm because he was upset that I had stopped dancing). All in all, it was a really fun night, and my cut isn't really that bad. I will have a cool scar to tell people I got from dancing, but it's not anything that a standard band aid can't cover well.

Then this week, four of the six community members in my house went down to Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi. As a result, Kat and I were holding down the fort, and after our first one-on-one romantic dinner we thought it'd be really cool to have dinner with our cooks and their families. Our hope was to bring food over to their house and cook with them, but they expressed to us that they were "not ready" so we respected that. They did say, however, that they would be interested in coming to our house to make dinner with Kat and I, and they each brought one of their children: Speeway, who is Vicky's 7 year old daughter, and Tumpale, who is Alick's 2 year old son. They are both absolutely adorable, and it was such a joy to have small children in our house! We made a Vikcy's favorite meal, fish with cassava flour, and had a wonderful meal together. Kat and I walked them all home, and it was a great time of sharing with them. They are becoming more and more like family to me, so much so, that I don't think I can say much longer that they are like family--they are family to me. It was a great night, and the stars were absolutely beautiful to walk home under. (Oh! And don't tell the Malawian Aviation Department, but I walked across an airport runway for the first time in my life! Alick and Vicky live on the other side of the airport and we cut across the runway because doing otherwise takes at least twice as long!)

And finally, yesterday we invited all of MIRACLE staff over to our house for a social. MIRACLE has had a lot of stress going on, a lot of changes going on, and a lot of frustrations and difficulties. Going into yesterday, we weren't fully sure if all of the stress at MIRACLE would be a damper on the social, or if the social was going to be just the right thing for this time. The second proved to be true! We welcomed almost 20 or 30 members of staff to our house, and for many of them, it was the first time they were in our house, invited as guest, and as equals to us. We share minerals (soft drinks), popcorn, biscuits (cookies), and ground nuts with them. There were some board games played, much chatting, and even a good bit of dancing! By the end of the night, it was clear that all felt welcome and had enjoyed themselves. I must say our volunteer community did a great job of intermixing with all the different members of staff, moving around and chatting with everyone. It was also really cool to see the teaching staff, the support staff, and our voulunteer community intermingling so well. At the end of the night Sarah and I drove anyone home who needed it, and it was clear that it had been a great event. It set up an awesome precedent for future events, and we are excited about the prospect of bringing the MIRACLE and Chaminade staffs together with this type of event. Maybe even nicest of all, I got to have two awesome conversations with two of the women on staff at MIRACLE. Both are a good bit older than me, both have families and children, and both definitely have much more life experience than me. One of the challenges I've been facing here is figuring out how to interact and relate with people who are older than me, from a different culture than me, and who seem to have such different life experiences from me. Last night, I found ways to connect with both of these women, and I felt that I was finally starting to breach the gap between being a mere acquaintance with them into having more of a friendship with them. It was wonderful!

So all in all, it was a beautiful week! There are still some things within my community that are a bit tricky, and might only be getting trickier to deal with, but this week was also a new beginning for that in a number of ways. There are definitely going to be things that are very challenging for me to deal with, but I think there is great hope in what's ahead.

A few weeks ago, I think I mentioned that I felt like the dawn was starting to bring light to thigns around me, but that the sun had not yet shown itself. I don't want to jump the gun on saying this, but I think the sun might be showing a little sliver of itself as it's working it's way out from behind the mountains before me. I think the morning is here; it's time to start this new day.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Not yet...

So I'm not out of the stormy waters just yet. However, I do think I'm getting a better understanding of the things that are lifting me up and the things that are pulling me down. Now, it will be a matter of minimizing the experiences with the things that pull me down and maximizing the experiences that lift me up. It's hard, though, because I'm not exactly sure what minimizing the experiences with the things that pull me down means. Does it mean avoiding those things all together, trying to ignore them, trying to reconcile them, or something else. I've done a pretty good job increasing the experiences of things that lift me up, but when you still have some big things pulling you down, it feels like whenever you take one step up, you get pulled two steps back down.

There have been at least four or five times in the past three weeks when I've been overwhelmed and exhausted by the instability of all this and of myself. I've wanted to just come home and not have to fight to keep my balance here. However, the thing that is keeping me going is my belief that great beauty can come from great pain. And that beauty will never come if I just pack my bags and call it quits. I do believe that I'm being presented with an opportunity to transform my ability to love, my view of myself, my view of others, and my view of God. I just wish this transformation wouldn't take so long, and I wish I had a better idea of how to respond to the challenges being presented. At times, I'm overwhelmed with feelings of being lost and alone, and I am continually doubting and questioning myself.

Last night, with the help of an overseas friend, I came up with a small game plan for my next step. To be honest, I have no idea how it is going to go or if it's even the step I should be taking. Additionally, after this attempt, I'm not sure what other options there are for me. I'm just so tired of all this. I want to get back to being the regular me who feels comfortable, confident, secure, loved, and excited about life.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Sing

I mentioned in a previous post that I joined the Church choir for Mass on Sundays. This has proven to be EXTREMELY uncomfortable at times, particularly when I don't know any of the Chitumbuka words that are being sung. It's also pretty uncomfortable during meetings when they talk about me. This last week, they talked about how I wasn't at the practice on Saturday. Then the choir director defended me because I was there at the time that the practice was supposed to start but no one else was there, and that is why I missed the practice. All of that was in Chitumbuka. Then later on in the meeting, one of the members gave a speech about how "we all should be helping Andy since he doesn't know the songs." He then talked about those in the choir who are struggling should find a buddy to listen to so that we can better learn the songs. These moments are weird, awkward for me, and uncomfortable. But then, there are the moments where we are just singing. There are the handful of songs for which I've learned the words and the harmonies. And there are the songs to which I can dance right in line with the choir members next to me. Those moments are the moments I'm singing for. The moments when the person next to me, African, black, not as educated, not as wealthy, is just the same as me. Those moments when I can show them and myself that underneath my American clothes and beneath my Muzungu skin, we are just the same. We both were created by God, we both love God, and we both want to sing and live for God. What else is there better to do in these moments than sing?

This Friday our Chaminade campus is celebrating Chaminade day. We will be having a grand Mass with all the students from MIRACLE, Chaminade Boarding, and Chaminade Open Schools. A joint choir has been created, and I'm also singing with this choir. The practices we have had so far have reached moments in which the Holy Spirit is visibly and audibly present in the movements, expressions, and voices of the choir. It rocks.

And finally, to commemorate the inauguration of President Barack Obama, Molly and I sang our National Anthem to the entire MIRACLE community during this morning's assembly. I thought it was really fun, and the students and staff seemed to be thouroughly entertained by us two white people singing our national anthem partly out of tune because we have a new president today. As goofy as we might have looked or sounded, it's moments like that that make life wonderful. Life may bring us all kinds of troubles and difficulties, but if you can still smile, if you can still sing, and if you can still dance, what else do you need?

Just open your heart and sing.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Healing; getting back to being ALIVE

So things still aren’t perfect. There are still things that bother me and upset me. But I’m trying to move on. I’m tired of thinking about and talking about the dark sides of life. I’ve been spending too much time on that, and I haven’t been spending enough time on actually being alive. I’m finding I just need to let go of those things that are bothering me. Holding onto them has just been pulling me down. I think that is how evil gets us. It uses our own stubbornness and pride against us. We just need to let go of it, move on, and look at all of the good in this life, even if only as tiny as a butterfly. This is where I think healing happens: letting go of the dark, and focusing in on even the smallest bit of light.

Today was a national holiday in Malawi for a Malawian man named John Chilembwe who fought against the British rule. He was the first person to stand up against the evil rule controlling Malawi to fight for freedom, and he sounds like he was a pretty sweet dude. In honor of him, there was no work or school today, so our volunteer community decided to go to the lake for the day. Though things in my community aren’t exactly smooth, and there are still some things that I’m struggling to deal with, it proved to be a very good day.

When we arrived to the lake, there were about 30-40 Malawians, mostly children and mothers on the area of the beach we went to. I was excited about this because I still need some space between myself and some of my community members; all these other people gave me lots of opportunity to interact with someone other than the five people in my house.

On my way into the water, I greeted one of the boys who was by himself and looked a little bit older, maybe about 10 or so. After diving in, I came back out of the water to grab one of the balls we brought. I asked the 10 year-old boy if he would like to play with me. His face lit up with a magnificent smile, and almost instantly he started walking towards the water with his hands in a ready position for my throw. We tossed it back and forth 20 times or so, and I noticed about five or six more boys swimming their way over to us. I asked Anuswe if his friends wanted to play; they did. For the next hour or so, we played various forms of catch, from throwing the ball back and forth, with me saying each of their names so that I could learn them, to trying to hit the ball up in the air like a volleyball set from one person to the next to see how many people could hit the ball up before we lost control of it; i-t w-a-s a b-l-a-s-t! Eventually, without the energy of a 10 year-old, I started to get a little tired. I backed off a bit and let them all play with the ball. Then, wanting to add something new into the fun, I found Anuswe and asked him if he knew how to do a flip out of the water. Though he nodded his head with affirmation, I wasn’t sure he knew what I was talking about. I tried to speak clear English and explain to him to put his feet in my hands and then, on the count of three, I would throw him up into the air to do a back flip. He got in the ready position, and I counted: O-n-e….t-w-oo-oo-oo….THREE! Anuswe went flying up into the air, almost instinctively doing a perfect backflip landing his feet straight down in the water. I’m pretty sure the huge grin on my face was only half as big as the beaming smile that blasted from Anuswe’s face as he emerged from the water. For the next half hour, I flipped Anuswe and all of his friends to their hearts’ delight.

Though it was nothing really that grand or special, or deep, or profound, playing with those boys was positive, and it was happy, and it was joyful. It was very simple, and it was very good. It helped me to appreciate the simple wonder of this life we live, something I have been neglecting far too much for far too long. I felt alive today, and it was good.

Monday, January 12, 2009

This Is Hard

So this isn’t that easy. The pain of loneliness I sometimes feel is an overwhelming weight to bear. At times, I wonder what I’m doing here in Malawi. Why am I going through all of this just to be here?

Well, I felt called here. I felt there was some reason for me to come here. I still believe that; it’s just that I don’t yet see that reason. Maybe I will never see it. But I do believe it’s there. And I believe that the pain I’m feeling right now is a cross that is ripping open my heart, stretching it in a way that it never has been. Let me tell you, it hurts to be pulled like this. I really do have a hope, though, that all of this work is for something. I do believe that this stretching and pulling that hurts so much will leave my heart bigger than ever. I have hope that I will be able to share more love with the world after coming through this challenge successfully.

I can’t half-ass it, though. I have to pour my whole heart into it. It’s just so hard to open my heart up to new things when it still wants to cling so tightly onto old things. It’s a burning conflict in my heart, and I’m looking forward to the day when I rise above it. I just hope that day comes soon.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Time To Change

So this week went pretty well. It definitely did not go without its fair share of stumbling blocks, and it also brought to the very forefront one of the most challenging leaps of faith I’ve ever faced. (When you see what that challenge is, you’ll see that the leaps of faith I’ve made in the past haven’t been that challenging. Nonetheless, this has been probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to let go of and put full trust in God.) In addition to that deep leap of faith, this week also brought a sense of peace that I haven’t since I was back in the States.

Last weekend I quite an experience in meeting the owner of a lakeside lodge/hotel who invited us to come visit him at his place, only to find he had his workers prepare a magnificent buffet of fish, chicken, and steak. We ate the dinner on a white-table cloth table, set out with fine china, on the beach looking out at the lake, which pears across to the mountains of southern Tanzania. The sun set behind us as we ate the dinner. As dinner finished, the owner began instructing one of his waiters to bring various drinks to our table and encouraged us to partake, “all on the house.” It got to the point where we said we had to drive home, so we could only take so much. It was at that point that he invited us to stay in some of his open rooms and to feel free to stay till the next morning. We took him up on it and had an enjoyable rest of the night. I had a lot of fun relaxing and hanging out with my community members. It was also really interesting to interact with this hotel owner who comes from a very wealthy family that is Malawi-born.

My weekend experience didn’t exactly end on a great note, though. I ended up getting very frustrated and jealous, and I got down on myself for feeling so. It took some conversations Sunday night and Monday night to get myself out of it. The conversation Monday night was intense, serious, scary, challenging, and ugly. As scary and ugly as it was, the resolutions I came away from it with are ones that I think I needed more than anything.

One of the major resolutions I came away with is that I can’t spend so much time focusing on, thinking about, and talking about the negative things I’m experiencing. I’ve been dwelling far too much on the things that bother me, the things that disappoint me, the things that frustrate me, the things that make me jealous, the things that make me feel bad about myself, and all of the other negative thoughts and feelings that have been rolling around in my head. I realized through some very honest and very challenging conversation that I’ve spent so much time thinking about and talking about the negative that I haven’t left room for living life. It was so hard to swallow, but it is true. And I’m tired of living that way. I want to be full of life again and rid of all this negativity. So, one of my new year resolutions is to dive full fledge into life. My new focus is on the people and activities that I can get involved with here. My goal is to come alive and be alive in every moment that I possibly can. I’ve wasted too much of the past five months being frustrated, feeling worthless, feeling lonely, feeling disrespected, feeling unwanted, and feeling insecure. I’m tired of it, and it’s time to change.

This past week, I’ve started with two wonderful things that are already giving me life. I’ve started a dance group at MIRACLE, one that I wish to also start and combine with Chaminade, and we had our first gathering and dance practice. It was a blast and totally life-giving! The second thing I got involved with is the choir at the Mass I go to each week here at Chaminade. One thing you should know is that the entire Mass is in vernacular: Chitumbuka. This means the songs too! Though I didn’t know the words to some of the songs, I could sing quickly enough with only a few of the songs, and I knew the meaning of virtually none of the songs, I loved it. I loved just being able to sing with people again, I loved how in just one day I already feel like I can hear and speak the language a good bit better, and I loved how I was mixed right in the midst with the people who live around me. I haven’t had enough of that last one at all during my time here. My hope is I can keep these positive things going, I can get involved with more positive things, and through all of these positive things, I can begin establishing the positive relationships I have been starved of during the past five months.

One of the other resolutions I came up with as a result of that ugly Monday night conversation is my need to stop focusing so much on just a few or just one relationship here. I’ve made a commitment to let go a bit of the relationships I’ve been depending on to make room for some new relationships that I haven’t been investing much into. As scary as it is to consciously decide to let go of the most supportive relationships I’ve had during my time here, I fully believe this is what I need. And as much as I don’t want to allow for some space in those relationships that I want to be closer than any other relationships, I have felt quite clearly called to do so. I think this is what I need right now. And luckily, in talking with those it affects, I have confidence that my relationships with them will remain. It’s just scary to let go of something you’ve been holding onto so tightly.

Lastly, I want to share with all of you the power of faith I have witnessed throughout this experience. For those of you who have known me, I’ve had a relatively strong faith since at least high school. Through this experience, I have been challenged to embrace that faith in a way I never have before, and I have been called to open myself to God more than I thought my spirit was able to do, more than I thought I’d ever be asked to. For the past few months, my spirit has been dead and dying. Now, I’m trying to place my trust more fully in God, and as scary as it is, as painful as it is, as difficult as it is, I do believe it will lead to new life. Though I’ve been in so much pain these past few months, by trying to let go of that pain and embrace what I know as love, I believe I am coming into a new life that is beyond the beauty of anything I’ve known. I praise God for the beauty and life that can grow out of this sometimes ugly, dark, and lonely world.

I’m going to end this here so that I can get back to being alive here. But before I go, I want to thank, once again, all of you who have extended your words of encouragement, shoulders (even if only virtual) to lean on, and prayers for renewal. This experience has been extremely difficult for me, but the encouragement, support, and prayers I have received are why I believe I’m beginning to come into the light. For this, I cannot thank you enough.

Thank you.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Thank you

Though the struggle is not over and is probably far from it, I cannot thank all of you who have extended your support to me through simple messages and prayers. It's not easy at all to put yourself out there, to let others know how you really feel and how your really are. In fact, it was scary as hell, and I've never felt more vulnerable. At the same time, I feel it is exactly what I need. In some ways, I think it's exactly what we all need. I think we all spend too much time being afraid to be who we really are, flaws, inadequacies, imperfections and all. And by doing so, by being afraid to be who we really are, problems and all, we limit the intimacy we are able to share with people.

So thank you. Thank you for letting me be me, and for responding to me openly and honestly, with care and with challenge.

I haven't yet reached the light of day, but thanks to many of you, at least the sun is starting to rise.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

An Honest, Even If Ugly, Update

[I wrote this blog on New Year's Day.]

Before you read this blog, I want to warn you that it is more personal than any of the other blogs I have written. This blog also strays from the upbeat topics that I have typically written about during my time here in Malawi. If you aren’t interested in reading a reflection and description of some of the personal challenges I’ve been facing, please feel free to skip this blog.

Though I would prefer to avoid any potential pity posed by writing about the serious struggles I’m facing, I feel that it would be a lie to anyone who reads my blog to continue posting about things like trips to the bore hole, or encounters with snakes, or any of the other intriguing experiences of living in Africa without first acknowledging the severe difficulties that have become entangled in every moment of my time here. This blog will acknowledge those difficulties. Also, this blog will hopefully open me up to continue writing about my experiences here, difficulties and all. In truth, part of the reason I have not written any blogs in the past two months is because I haven’t known how to write about the various things I’m doing here without including the negative things I’ve been feeling here.

While most of my blogs probably don’t indicate it, I’ve really been struggling here. For the past five months, I’ve been immersed in a continuous struggle that has only become more challenging as the months have gone by. The struggle began with the mere adjustment to a new place, to being away from home, my family, and my friends. As I look back, that part of the struggle was a cake-walk compared with where I am now. The next part of my struggle stemmed from the difficulty I have had in developing relationships with people here. I couldn’t seem to connect or relate with my co-workers, and the behavior script set by the staff here discouraged any type of personal interaction between students and teachers; for example, chatting between students and teachers was explicitly identified as “dangerous,” and we were directed to maintain “social distance” at all times. This was not the place for someone who not only thrives on, but survives on personal relationships with people. The challenge then continued with my volunteer community, which has continually struggled with not only establishing a common mission, purpose, and vision for our presence here, but has more intensely struggled with establishing a common respect for the individuals who make up this community. We have struggled to get along, to say the least, and have failed to support one another, to say some more. From there, my struggle has only gotten more complicated, more personal, and more debilitating.

When I made the decision to move myself to the other side of the world for two years, I expected that where I was going, I would find things that fed me, nurtured me, excited me, and sustained me. Instead, I’ve only found things that drain me, frustrate me, and hurt me. I also expected to find a purpose for my presence here. I expected to find the value of a university educated, American, 22-year old coming to serve one of the economically poor populations on the planet. Instead, I have failed to find a purpose and value of my presence. Furthermore, I haven’t even found a meaningful way to serve the people I meet here. Since I’ve barely even had any meaningful interaction with people here, how in the world could I be serving them? With this lack of purpose, absence of value, and failure to serve, I’ve felt virtually worthless here, beginning shortly after my two month mark here, at which point I finally got my feet on the ground. Since then, I’ve only felt more and more useless and more and more disappointed in myself. After all, I am a very capable person, so why shouldn’t I be able to identify some purpose to my presence here? Why shouldn’t I be able to see the value of me being here? Why can’t I find ways to offer myself to others? Why am I not fed, nurtured, excited, or sustained by anything I’m involved with here? Why am I so discontent with everything?

These disappointing questions have only led me to get more and more down on myself. Without the academic success I’ve enjoyed my entire life, and without the numerous meaningful clubs, organizations, and groups I’ve been a part of over the years, I’ve become more insecure about myself than I have ever been in my life. This insecurity has led me to doubt almost everything I have believed to be true about myself and has caused me to become more selfish and jealous than I’ve ever been in my life. It has gotten to such a point that I now become angry with the two best friends I have here when they spend time together or do something together. I’m jealous of their relationship, and I feel as if I’m in competition to be close with them. The fact that I’m jealous only leads me to further disappointment in myself. And that disappointment in myself has led me to easily become frustrated with those around me, especially my community members. All of these things are uncharacteristic of who I’ve always thought I am, and I’m now finding myself question whether I really am who I thought I was. This leads to even more disappointment in myself, that I can’t continue being the person I want to be, the person I believe me to be. I’ve gotten so frustrated with the fact that I’m not succeeding here, that I’m not even getting by, that I’m struggling to even merely be me. With all of these things, my mood has been dark and down, at best. My attitude has been beyond negative. And my actions have been void of the energy, love, joy, and spirit that make me feel alive. I’ve been broken. I felt dead.

There are probably more details I could describe about the intense mental, emotional, and relational mess I’ve been in. But I think, by this point, I’ve made the picture clear.

About two weeks ago, a week or so before Christmas, I hit an absolute low, or at least, the lowest I’ve ever felt. Thankfully, my friend Molly was here and able to help lift me up. She also allowed me to honestly acknowledge the struggle I’m facing. She sat, and listened, and allowed me to bring to surface the mess I’m in; she enabled me to get this mess out from inside of me. I do believe it is because of her, and because of the guiding words of a few dear friends, that I’m able to write about these things here. Again, I would prefer not to broadcast this internal struggle for the whole world to read; I don’t like the pity it calls forth, and I don’t like the burden it places on others. I also don’t like admitting that I’m flawed, that something isn’t okay with me. I’d rather not let the world know that I feel messed up emotionally and mentally. I’d also rather not let the world see that maybe I don’t only feel messed up, but that maybe I really am messed up. However, I am pretty sure that I’m not the only person in the world to have gone through something like this; I’m not the only person to have felt these things. I’m also pretty sure that what makes a situation like this go from bad to horrible is when the person in the situation holds everything inside, and doesn’t seek help. So maybe, just maybe, by sharing this part of my story, I will enable someone else to feel free to talk about what they’re feeling, even if it’s ugly, and even if they don’t want anybody else to see it. In my experience…in this experience…things only get worse when you hold onto it all by your self.

Two days ago, I hit another rock bottom. I was jealous and angry at my two best friends for doing something together, for being happy while doing it, and for doing it without me. The blatant selfishness of those feelings drove me even deeper into disgust of myself. However, I’m quite sure that if it weren’t for one of those best friends, I would have already self-destructed in depression. The fight is not over for me, and this morning, as Molly and I continued to discuss what I’m going through, we began to consider whether I’d be better able to fight this fight back home; or maybe more accurately, we began to consider whether staying here will only continue suffocating me. The thought of going home without living through this experience scares me. I have no doubt that doing so would only increase my feelings of disappointment, lack of confidence, and feelings of jealousy, guilt, and failure. But if staying here continues to kill my spirit the way it has for these past five months, I need to take that option. I can’t stay here and continue to suffocate. Right now, the option of going home is on the table for me. But I’m not taking that option yet.

Today was a new day; it’s a new month; a new year. And, perhaps providentially, I woke up early this morning, and I could not fall back asleep. My soul was too unsettled to slumber. By God’s Grace, I looked outside my window to see a sky hinting of magic. Tired and worn down, I decided I needed sleep more than a pretty sky. Fifteen minutes passed, and my mind, body, and soul still sat unsettled. I decided to get up. Maybe a peaceful sunrise would be a good start to this new year. I put on some pants and laced up my shoes, grabbed my camera, and walked out the door. When I reached a clearing that allowed my eyes to absorb the scene above me, I found myself staring at a sky stirring with vibrant pinks, fiery oranges, and bottomless blues. I have n-e-v-e-r witnessed a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g as BEAUTIFUL as what my eyes found above me; it W-A-S beauty.

I believe I have hit a point of brokenness where I have nowhere but up to go. The only question lies in my openness to allow God’s love for me fill my heart and set me back to flight. My hope is to do that here, in Malawi, so that I can come home to the US in a year and a half telling a story of a death resurrected to a new and brilliant life, very much like the dark night last night burst into a brilliant day this morning. However, I won’t let this situation crush me. Yes; this is a new year and a new start. And with the start of this new academic year here at Chaminade, there is great potential for me to get up off the ground and set my wings to flight. But, if I find myself still starving for life in a month or so, I can’t stay. I will have to go home, and I will have to find a way to let God heal me, restore me, and bring me back to life there. That is not my hope, but if I must, I must.

For you, who have taken the time to read this, and who have shared your care and compassion with me, THANK YOU; as my housemate Kat said to me today, there is no way for someone to get out of a situation like this without the help of another human being—there is no substitute for the support of another. By reading this, you have given me support. All I ask more of you is for your prayers. I’ve been surrounded and consumed by a lot of darkness lately; any petitions for light to come into my life might just be transformational for me. I also ask that if you ever feel feelings like some of the ones I have described above, please find someone you can talk to freely about them; there is no substitute for the support of another.

Thank you for supporting me.

Love,
Andy