Jan 27, 2009

belly rumblings

I was lying in bed early this morning listening to the children laugh and play in the street. My belly started to rumble and I held it for a few minutes. I could feel the morning hunger creeping in. I am reading a book titled "What is the What" by Dave Eggers. It is based on the life story of a Sudanese “Lost Boy”, Achak, who traveled through Sudan to Ethiopia and then to Kenya on foot, displaced by a horrific civil war. Thousands of Sudanese boys made this walk; hundreds died along the way. Achak speaks of the pains of hunger; the signs of death. As I lie in my comfy bed I think of Achak and the hunger he must have felt. I have no comparison. Its easy to think of this story when you’re reading it as a horrific account of war; painful acts of violence in a different time. Except that it’s not a different time. It is still happening today. Many children are hungry all around the world. Many have pains in their bellies; their bellies extended, their lips cracked. Achak tells of the boys rubbing their necks to try and get moisture in their painfully dry and cracked throats.

I don’t see this hunger here in Mozambique. I’m sure it exists. It may even be here in Quelimane or outside in the zone. But it’s not visual to me on a daily basis. I wondered how I would feel when faced with the hunger season. I am no longer in the village and therefore my eyes are shielded. My belly is quite full. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I just can’t see it. I wish I lived in a world that if I couldn’t see it, it didn’t exist. I wish I could live a positive and joyful life with complete confidence that if I do, everyone else will. We speak about faith being a belief without seeing. Do we have faith in the people we don’t meet? In their lives, their circumstances to be real without seeing it for our own eyes? Do we have faith that someone else is caring for these unseen? Or do we just lie in our comfy beds long enough to think of what we should eat for breakfast, forgetting what’s outside our windows? I admit, my brief moment of thinking of Achak and his story was fleeting; my hungry belly won out and I found some coveted granola with berries (which we don’t have here - thanks Mom!); once the cold milk filled the bowl everything else faded away. Its far too easy.

Jan 16, 2009

p.s.

“yeah, i'm sure its not raining there. and the taliban put down their ak's and homemade bombs and started farming again. :-)”

I found this last little line on my brother’s email this morning quite funny! (He’s currently in the Middle East) I had received an email earlier in the week telling me to be careful because there are news reports of flooding occurring in Mozambique. In my "p.s." response I briefly stated not to worry, it’s not even raining! (Tis the truth, Andrew!!! :-)) It’s not raining. And there are no floods. Whoever is showing that footage is LYING! I am here. It is dry and hot!

There are no floods this year. At least not yet. There are predictions that some may occur in early February, but only in very lowland areas that flood with normal rainfall. I find it a bit funny that the year I spend abroad working on an emergency response program there is no emergency. I’m blaming this on my mother’s diligent prayers. :-) Not that I want the floods for these people – I don’t. A girl just needs a little excitement sometimes. It’s getting a little boring over here. :-)

p.s. - think I just jinxed it?!

Jan 15, 2009

feliz ano novo!

I finally have a chance to sit and read through some news, my friends blogs, catch up on my emails. My inbox is flooded with disturbing photos of what's happening in Gaza. Pictures no one should ever see. I wish they were created in some sick-o's mind and computer generated to spread evil - but I have a feeling that's not the case. My heart aches. My stomach churns. How do things get so out of control? And how do we stop it? History continues to repeat itself. Each new year comes, we make resolutions, we have good intentions, and we're back to our old habits by Valentine's Day. Is it our fault? Is it human nature? Are we just not programed to change? The thing is, there seems to be a lot of horrible happening; a lot of changes for the worse. This is why I don't keep up with the news or read my emails. :-) Its discouraging. However, reading through my friends blogs I was encouraged. I have some amazing friends doing amazing things around the world. Fighting against the discouragement, the horrifics, the lack of humanity in our actions. There is good being done; we just need to keep fighting for it. And maybe this year we fight a little harder. I'm going to steal a friend's happy new year from her blog (thanks, jill!) - she wishes us all peace in this new year. As do I. May it be a happy one. A one of good cheer. AND a year we STOP the horrifics and start to bring PEACE. May that peace begin with each of us. Feliz Ano Novo! - as we say in Mozambique. :-) May this year be full of blessings we share with one another. Blessings of peace.

"the Lord bless you & keep you;
the Lord make his face shine upon you
& be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face toward you
& give you peace."

*Numbers 6:24-26

Jan 14, 2009

2:17 am

i awake by the slap of a hand. i sit straight up. i hear buzzing. i can feel my cheeks dripping with moisture. where am i? what just happened?

its only mosquitoes. i am safe. but why am i so hot?

the air is thick. i open my eyes. i see nothing. i start to itch. another slap to the face. now there is only silence.

the power has gone out.

i stumble in the dark and find my flashlight. i drink some water. i go to the window to get some air. the room has started to get stuffy. the air outside is even hotter. i close the window.

must kill the mosquito flying around.

i check the clock. its 2:17am. i check the fuse box. no trips. i look outside. down the street has light. across the way has light. our block has no light. dogs begin to bark. a fight has broken out. within minutes it is silent again.

i only hearing buzzing. i only hear mosquitoes. i lay back down, cover my head with the sheet, try and hold my breathe. its too hot to lay still. i close my eyes and wish for sleep.

Jan 10, 2009

Jan 9, 2009

a perfect picture

There is an old round theatre in the middle of town. I walk past it every morning. It has five round pillars on the front steps. This morning there were five homeless people sleeping in the shadow of each pillar, bracing themselves from the hot morning sun. One had a raggedy old t-shirt hanging on a clothes hanger above him.

Mozambique is a very impoverished country. If there was a face to poverty, you can see it here. If you open your eyes to the poverty, you can easily become depressed. It can eat inside of you until there’s little hope for change. You can start to feel empty. It will make you feel sick. However, you can also keep your eyes closed to the faces of the poor. To those who are hungry, sick, in need of employment and a roof over their heads. They are kids that play soccer in the street. They are elderly women who sift through the garbage bins at night. They are mentally ill who walk around with one shoe, no shirt and a glaze in their eyes. You can avert your eyes and not see them. You can walk past the outstretched hand without breaking a stride. You can go on living your life as if they don’t. It is harsh. But it’s the truth. Sometimes it is easy to close your eyes; and other times there is nothing more you can do. You feel paralyzed by the reality you are surrounded in.

A friend once said, this is “the perfect picture of poverty”. To make it ideal, to highlight and paint a pretty picture – it is here in Quelimane. In Mozambique. The picture of poverty comes drawn with bright sunshine, beautiful sunsets and coconut trees high up in the sky. There are days you can only see the beauty in the picture. And there are days when all you can see is poverty.

urgency

A boy about ten years of age ran up behind me as I entered my friend’s apartment. I didn’t see him. Just as I opened the door (I had a key) he pushed his body up against mine to also get inside. As I hadn’t seen him behind me, his sudden urgency frightened me and I pushed him away and closed the door. Only the door wouldn’t close as he continued to push harder and harder to get in. He wanted something. And he was persistent. And quite forceful. After a few minutes of this tug and war I was able to close the door and lock it. He continued to push. And then the doorbell rang. His fingers held down the button so hard it became a constant noise of high-pitched urgency – he wanted in. For the next 15 minutes he rang that doorbell. He was not giving up easily.

I sat straight up in bed this morning with a sense of urgency filling my chest. I don’t know why. The incident with the little boy came to my mind. How often do we demonstrate this sense of urgency in our lives? How often do we live by faith that when the urgency comes to us, there is a higher power that is available to take it? To calm us. To provide for that need that is pressing on our hearts so. Not often enough.

Speaking with my friend later that night we concluded the boy probably wanted food. I felt awful I turned him away. But I was surprised and a bit frightened by his urgency. Was he just a kid looking for trouble? Playing around? Or was he really in need of food? Desperate enough to do whatever it took to fill the ache inside of him?

Living in places such as an African country with a history of war and famine or even on some of our own city streets in the US, you can come face to face with those who are hungry. When I get hungry, I get crabby. I get short. And eventually I wear down to have no energy. But then I get food. I don’t know what would happen to me if the food didn’t come. Would I be desperate enough to beg for it? To push myself into someone’s home, steal from someone’s pocket, or lift an empty hand and look someone in the face begging for help? Would I do that? Could I do that? Or is my pride too big? We’re taught not to beg, not to lie, not to steal. Are there exceptions to these rules? How much judgment should we place on those who break the rules and live a life so far removed from our own that we could never walk in their shoes? They are wearing no shoes. How can we judge? And more importantly, how do we help? How do we help lesson their pain? The hunger? Can we help?

There is a sense of desperate urgency in so many lives of people we meet everyday. It may not be visible. It may not be knocking on our door, begging. But I would take a bet it is pushing its way inside our hearts and maybe even inside our lives. Can you ignore it? Can you walk away? Is there something you can do to help fill the ache? The pain. The hunger. Will it remain?

Jan 8, 2009

retraction

I spoke too quickly. No internet at home. No skype. No laughing at my sister on the big screen tv. :-) I know I am completely spoiled to even have the ability for internet in my home in Mozambique. I was thinking of our time at Daystar in Athi River, Kenya and how us crazy American students would do whatever we needed to get on that bus or hitchhike in a matatu or back of a truck to get into Nairobi on a Saturday and anxiously climb those stairs to Lazards and check our email. The days we had to wait for an open computer – torture! I have some amazing friends who have put up with my impatience! (I may have been the worst one. :-)) I remember once Katie and I were meeting the girls at Java downtown (and then we were going to check email) and we had hitchhiked in, after several attempts, squeezing into a full matatu sitting in the very back with very little space. I hope for Katie’s sake, I fell asleep on that ride. :-) When we arrived in Nairobi, it was raining and we were literally dumped into a pile of garbage. The matatu door opened and we jumped out…into a wet, stinky, smokey pile of garbage. I remember thinking all I wanted to do was check my email! There was also the trip with the bloody toe, the runaway matatu chase when they made us whities duck from whomever was chasing us down the wrong way of a one way alley, and the time we had to hide from the angry street mob who blocked our bus ride back to campus. But not every trip was so exciting; the good ones we got ice cream at Java as well as emails! Those were fabulous Saturdays to get us through the next week. :-)

I am thankful I can walk to the office or a friend’s house here and use their internet when mine doesn’t work – no sweaty stinky full matatu rides or angry mobs keeping me from the outside world. Times have definitely changed. ;-)

Jan 7, 2009

butterflies, hot toes, & technicians

My alarm went off far too early this morning. As I stepped out onto the street I was greeted with a bom dia of the guard and warm sunshine. Then a peculiar thing happened – a monarch butterfly flew in front of me and fluttered in circles - all the way to the office! (It is a good four or five blocks with many turns.) The butterfly intrigued me. It was almost as if it was leading me somewhere or wanted me to see something. When I arrived to the office, it flew away. Hmm. It did give me a few moments to enjoy the morning and not stress on the events of the day. A nice little distraction.

My afternoon walk back from lunch and a Portuguese lesson had my toes burning! The warm sunshine turned into some kind of laser beam. :-) The ten minutes to the office were so hot that the metal zipper on my bag hurt to touch.

Technicians kept coming to my house today. Three different ones. All were saying the same thing in Portuguese over and over and over. My Internet has been out at the house for over a week – so I’ve been trying to get it fixed. This is no small task in Quelimane when you are not fluent in Portuguese nor have all day every day to sit at home and wait for the technicians to arrive. Yesterday the excuse was he couldn’t find a bicycle taxi to take him into town. Interesting. My house is on the same block as the phone company. Today was a success though! After two visits, a technician brought his friend and they fixed it. The Internet has been working fine until we had a massive storm and everyone’s connection went out – and came back three days later. Mine never returned. When the techs saw my computer they would shake their heads and mumble something disgruntle and kept repeating to me “windows vista!” “windows vista!” and I kept replying no. (I have a macbook.) They tried to take my computer and push a bunch of buttons – which obviously didn’t work. Oh but it must be my computer that is broken and not their connection! If only I could communicate better. :-) They kept speaking louder and louder and pacing in my living room – but eventually google popped up on their “windows vista” and all was right with the world again. I even got a new ethernet cable out of the deal.