life & wonder

I am sitting in the office on this beautiful Friday morning, trying to stay cool and hopefully get some work done. But all I can do is stare out the window. Yesterday I heard the news that a good friend of mine from University passed away from a battle with leukemia...a year ago. We had lost touch since our time at Bethel and I hadn’t heard the news of her death until yesterday. I am saddened by this loss. She was one of the most passionate people I’ve ever known; beautifully full of life and living it as she believed was her calling. She had dreams and plans and that exciting wonder you could see in her eyes and voice as she shared them with you. She was one of those people that you need in your life to help give you perspective on the bigger picture and get you excited for the little things – it was all important to her.

So as I'm sitting here today, distracted in my thoughts, I can't tear my gaze away from the life that is happening outside my window. I can't help but wonder why one so young and full of life would be taken from this earth so soon. And who am I to be so lucky to be sitting here and enjoying life and Africa in all its glory. It just doesn't seem fair.

There is nothing but life up here. I was noticing this the other day. There are no distractions. No busyness of a city. No competition for wealth or possessions. I'm in this little place, sitting on a hill overlooking the beautiful Zambezi River, middle of absolutely nowhere, in Africa. And it seems to be stripped of all the competition and haste of the fast world I know - yet it’s not really stripped as those things have yet to exist. Everyone lives in a mud hut. Now maybe one neighbor has better mud than the other? Ok, that's a bit silly, but I’m sure there are competitions that I am not aware of; I'm not fully immersed in this culture. But to the outside eye, that competition and judgment does not exist. It is just life here. In the past I would describe it as being "raw" - coming from an individual who has grown up in the western world with lots of extras. But I don't think it’s raw. It is rich. These people, the villagers, it is their life. And they smile and greet you when you walk down the street. The children wave their hands and dance around all excited when we drive by. The international doctor is frustrated that he can't practice his medicine because there is a lack of resources and infrastructure. The lack of access to those resources; the speed and direction of the development in this town frustrate the NGOs. But its just life. There’s no need for me to complain about the cold bucket baths, because that's what everyone has; if not they bathe in the river. Very quickly - I was watching them the other day. They literally run in, splash water and try to clean themselves really fast and then run out. I was told they are afraid of the crocs. I would be too. :-) It’s hotter than one can imagine up here; which makes it all the more real. You feel everything.

My view on things is changing. Seeing this life, living here, my overall view is changing. There's a much bigger picture than we can see from our highly educated schools or Hollywood induced media. Hearing the news of my friend’s death...it just makes me wonder all the more. What am I really doing up here and how can I make it beneficial to others rather than myself. Because I could make it all about me. Easily done. I could make it about my research for grad school. I could look at it as just a job that I need to put my time in to get a better job. Or I can look at it as life. Just like the people passing by my office carrying their babies and their water jugs and their chickens on their bicycles. This is their life. And now its mine too, sort of (minus the baby and chickens – and the water jug – I don’t get my own water). I don't know what to do with this yet – this life I’m living up here. I hope I can figure it out before its too late. I hope that my life can be a just a fraction of the passion that my friends was. She had passion and beauty and this contagious high on life. I want that. And I have every opportunity to have it. My friends life has ended, but I am still living mine. It should count for something. Some days it is extremely difficult to see past the simplicities and struggles of this little African village. It is a beautiful life, but contentment is an ugly struggle. And knowledge, knowledge can do more harm than good if you don’t see the reality in front of you and do something about it.