Ramblings--"This is as good as it gets."

This past month, our family has really been excited to return home for vacation.  We have felt our taste buds craving the flavors of home, our eyes craving the beauty of the west, our ears wanting the quiet sounds of suburban life and nature, and our hearts wanting to see our loved ones again.  After my bout with bad grapes a few weeks ago, I have felt even more physically and emotionally exhausted than I had before.  My friend living in Mauritania (northwest Africa) with her family, is back in the states now for vacation.  She describes her time in the U.S. as being a renewal of her energy that she has lost from always having to have her "guard up."  I realized that she verbalized exactly what I have been feeling--an exhaustion that has come from having my guard up and dealing with the unknowns or unexpected on a day to day basis.  I feel it mostly on my walk to and from work.  The streets are full of men with looks in their eyes that scare me, not knowing what intentions they have, along with beggars, drunks, etc. that aren't totally "with it."  Just a few days ago, I rounded a corner on my walk home and was spotted very quickly by a lady that had rounded the corner coming from the other direction.  She saw me and immediately started yelling at me at the top of her lungs, like you would have thought I had killed her family member or something, and she blocked the path so I couldn't get by on the narrow sidewalk.  Before she got too close to me, I cut through the concrete barrier that lined the sidewalk, and walked in the street with the crazy cars passing by.  She kept yelling until she couldn't see me anymore.  It shook me up a bit.  I walked home and actually broke down a little telling my housecleaner Zita about it.  She reassured me that it's not because I'm American or white, as I suspected.  She said, "No, we're family.  Skin color doesn't matter."  I'm not quite sure everyone feels this way with the hundreds of years of slavery we put them through.  :( Anyway, my gaurd is up...literally, you never know how people will surprise you here!

I went to church on Sunday and was greeted by working air conditioners for a few minutes before we lost it for the remainder of church--again.  A few weeks ago on Mother's Day, it was the same.  It has been three weeks now since we've had air.  I was really fighting the feeling to just go home and curl up in a ball and suck on my thumb, with air conditioning. :)  Bri looked at me with understanding eyes but said nothing when I said, "I can't do this again today."  There I was, sweating after I had arrived at church early to give a little lesson on how to conduct music to a girl in the young women's program, and I was already feeling irritable.  It was only 9am.  I knew that worse heat and discomfort were still to come and I wasn't going to understand half of what was being taught in the classes, except in Sacrament, if the headphones were working. And I needed to use the bathroom.  But who wants to use toilets that smell and don't flush, that are surrounded by little critters, and might not have toilet paper?   :)

So the pity party began.  Actually I think it began even before the generator died, probably during the meetings of the last Sunday where I was sweating like a pig and dealing with kids that were also uncomfortably sweating like pigs.  So the pity party continued.  But almost as soon as I told Briant that "I can't do this again today," my heart softened.  The pity party ended as I surveyed the chapel and saw all of the faithful members of the church that are there every Sunday, with smiles on their faces, attending church without expectations regarding their circumstances.  The spirit touched me and reminded me that these members have had to "endure" these circumstances and will continue to "endure" them long after I leave Angola.

The next morning on my walk to work, the every day things that I've seen for months, seemed even more noticeable to me.  The man without the leg, the woman grilling plantains on a piece of metal over some coals while her baby sleeps under an umbrella on a thin blanket on the concrete sidewalk (she would be there on my walk home from work 6 hours later), the drunk or "crazy" man talking to himself as he walked by with just a shirt on, 9-10 year old boys asleep on the rough sidewalk instead of being in school, and the brave man crossing a very busy street without legs--just on two stumps.  No wheelchair.  Again, like the day before, I was reminded of how good my life is and all that I have to be grateful for.  This is life for these people.  As Bri and I say, "This is as good as it gets" for them.  During this walk, I had an epiphany.  The majority of these people don't want you to feel pity for them because they're doing the best they can and that is enough for them.  So it's not so much a shame that people live this way, but that I don't live this way and yet I let feelings of ingratitude creep into my heart.

I was humbled again today as I heard a heartbreaking story from one of my students.  I hadn't seen him at English class for over a week, so I asked him if he went on vacation or if he had been sick (many of my students have gotten malaria and have been absent for 2 weeks).  He explained that two of his brothers had died and their funerals were last week.  I asked him how they died.  He explained that one of his brothers had bent down on a street next to his car to look at something, and got hit by another car.  He died instantly.  When another one of Joao's brothers was called with the devistating news, he had a heart attack and died.  So he lost two of his brothers overnight.  This is one of the many tragic stories I have heard since I started teaching.  Others include a sister dying during childbirth along with the baby (probably from something that could have been prevented with better medical care--she left a husband and three kids behind), a brother-in-law dying because he was poisoned by someone that was afraid of him getting the job promotion he wanted (the students in my class explained that poisoning someone is actually quite common here so they never leave food or drink unattended for fear of it happening to them).  It seems like I'm constantly hearing of siblings dying and have heard that many of their parents have already died, young, compared to the life span of Americans.

Despite my recent ingratitude and whining, Heavenly Father blessed me with some tender mercies.  In the last few weeks of feeling tired and discouraged with life here, I was able to be reminded, and needed to be reminded, that what I do and how I live my life here, matters.  After missing work for two days from being sick, my students were very concerned for me and my health.  With the number of deaths that occur because of health issues, the locals take illness very seriously, so they were genuinely happy to see me back at work.  They told me how they had missed me and they missed learning English for those two days.  Then randomly, a whole class of my intermediate students, suggested that they write a "speech" to the ambassador in English to show her how much they've learned from me (I expressed appreciation for the idea but said that it would not be necessary :) ).  A few days later, I was working one on one with a man that is trying to apply for a job that would be a huge promotion for him in the embassy.  He has to take a test to show his English proficiency to apply for the job.  He expressed his gratitude over and over for my help and for all that he has learned over the past 5 months from me, and then said, "I can imagine that when you leave Angola, we will all be happy for you but we will also be very sad.  We will be very emotional saying goodbye.  I can imagine it now."  I sooooo appreciated these tender mercies given to me at a time that I really needed them.  I know that I am here fulfilling a purpose, the largest one being my own personal growth and learning.  And my purpose from year to year, country to country, stage to stage, will ever be evolving.  What I think I knew before, but realize even more so now, is that my daily purpose should never be driven by an ungrateful or selfish heart.  It should never be driven by the world's sense of what purpose is either, found in the size or decor of my home or other material possessions, physical appearance, prestige or fame.  Because true fulfillment and purpose never come from them.  I believe they come in the every day things like morning greetings to a stranger, extending a listening ear, in giving a simple hug to a sorrowing soul, or in simply learning someone's name.  Ironically, I read out of "Stand A Little Taller," a book of quotes by President Hinckley, the very morning that I received the expressions of gratitude from my students.  I opened it to August 2nd, which is my birthday, to see what it had to say. "Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work.  And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.  Behold, the Lord requireth the heart and a willing mind; and the willing and obedient shall eat the good of the land of Zion in these last days.  (Doctrine and Covenants 64:33-34).  This was followed by the inspiring words of President Gordon B. Hinckley, "The major work of the world is not done by geniuses.  It is done by ordinary people who have learned to work in an extraordinary manner."