50 KM mountain bike race in Luwawa Forest and the Lion King with CUREkids

Extending my time in Malawi

Received my contract that will extend my time in Malawi until December.  I'm thankful that I'm able to stay here longer and CURE for giving me the opportunity.  I'm not sure what happens after December but the option is open here to extend my contract into 2014.  I've got several things in mind - but I don't have definite plans.  

I got sick for the first time since November last night.  I went home from the hospital about 5pm and went straight to bed but I hardly slept - I was stomach sick and couldn't keep anything down, even water.  I fell asleep in the bathroom twice.  I finally went to sleep without getting up again around 4am.  Feeling better today and I was able to eat lunch.  I had forgotten how bad it sucks to get sick here.  You almost want to die.  At least it wasn't not malaria, I've been off anti-malarial medication since rainy season ended last month.    

Lawrence, my sidekick, is planning on getting married before I leave Malawi.  The guy is in love and talks about it nonstop.  I'm happy for him and can't wait to celebrate.  There is lots of dancing at malawian weddings, like 5 hours.  I've only been to one wedding since I got here so I'm looking forward to it.  

We are taking the children and guardians/moms in the hospital to a production of the Lion King tomorrow.  It should be loads of fun to get the kids out of the hospital to see lots of dancing and singing.  The production is being directed by a friend, german volunteer, who comes to malawian mondays at the guest house.  

Ian and Hazel, couple that helped me co-lead young adult bible study on tuesday nights are preparing to leave Malawi for Scotland.  Hazel is pregnant and due in July and they will stay at home until October. I'm not sure how this will affect the group but I pray that it continues to be meaningful and fruitful for the peeps involved.  

I've settled at one church now - Blantyre Baptist.  I was jumping around every week and didn't feel like that was the healthiest thing to do.  I am trying to connect with people and get involved, lay some roots for the first time.  I know my time is limited here but I felt like it was on my heart to find a church home.  It is 95% malawian and thats important to me.  I didn't feel connected at a church that was full of only ex-pats.    

Lamentations 2:22-25
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.

“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
    “therefore I will hope in him.”

The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
    to the soul who seeks him.

His DEATH meant victory, how afraid of LIFE can we be?

A few people told me that my last post was incredibly sad, I felt that it was hopeful.  But that's coming from the only 3 people that read this thing...so it's fine.  But I was going through a tough time and I did feel homesick for the first time.  I can be a baby and I've been known to love self-pity (e.g. 2004-2010) but I'm in a much better place now and I know that God has to be the most important part of my life.  I can't be too upset when I know HE brings me through every situation, regardless of the magnitude or hopeless feeling that may accompany it.  Why do things seem so massive when we go through them?   

I will have some news soon regarding the end of my contract in August with CURE here in Malawi.  I'm a couple weeks shy of the 9 month mark.  Time flies here.  I want to hold out until the next post, since things aren't definite yet.  And also - no one has asked.   

random things:
-my housemate found amazing coffee from a plantation here that delivers ($5 for 2.2 lbs) - I almost cried when I had my first pint

-I still MISS live music (would pay to see Seether at this point)

-I love assessing my relationship with Christ every few months and seeing growth, change and other things that God is tweaking in my heart

-I'm still in the hospital guest house - currently living with all females - it's forced community, which is good for me....if you know me and my weirdness, you understand how much I loved my solitude at home....and did I mention the majority are female?

-my only mode of transport is still a bike that belongs in a retired Florida couple's garage

- I love eggs, cheese, rice and peanuts...in a bowl together.  Oh, I still don't know how to cook proper meals.

-Human Planet (BBC series) is amazing - thanks to special friend for sending.

-I bought my first pair of slip-ons in Malawi last month.  The shoes are a size too small but the guy selling them told me they fit, so I believed him.  The secondhand market is like a thrift shopper's heaven.

Dear Father

Your grace is sufficient for me, your power is made perfect in my weakness.  On my knees unable to stand - my plan has fallen apart...again.  I know your truth and know that you're better, but I still hurt.  Grace swallows me up like a whale in a sea of sin.  Have I been saved from something so much worse?  The questions flood my mind, I need faith.  I know that you are good to those that seek you and have hope in you.  This ending will birth yet another beginning.  I must walk humbly.  I must love kindness.  I must forgive.  I must count everything as loss.

when.things.fall.apart

This was supposed to be a week with lots of downtime.  It was an off week for tuesday night young adult bible study.  It was also an off week for friday night youth group that I help lead.  The only nights that I had plans was monday (malawian monday dinner) and thursday - our weekly McGrath bible study and dinner.  On monday, my week took a very different turn.

I was approached by the medical director and one of the orthopaedic surgeons at CURE, Dave.  He told me that he had a special request.  CURE also serves adult patients from Malawi, Mozambique, Zimbabwe with ortho needs.  An older man had traveled from Zimbabwe to see Dave for a total hip replacement.  He was admitted to CURE and was being prepped for the procedure on monday morning.  He had a heart attack on sunday night at CURE and was rushed to another hospital in the area, where he passed away.  Incredibly unfortunate and sad, but there's more.  He wasn't traveling alone.  He brought along his adopted son, Learnmore, a 14 year old boy.  CURE was in the middle of figuring out how to get Learnmore back to Zimbabwe and that's where I come into play.

Dave asks me if I mind if Learnmore stays at the guesthouse.  Before I even meet the kid, I agree and tell him that I will look after him.  Since the guesthouse is right across the parking lot from the hospital, Dave feels that it's the best idea.  Then Learnmore walks up to Dave and I at the main entrance to the hospital.  We do introductions and I grab his bag.  I have no idea how long he will be with me.  I have no idea if he's upset, afraid, depressed, confused.  We walk to his guardian's car and grab the valuables in sight.  Then I show him his room at the guest house. 

He seems ok.  He tells me that he's ok.  I'm not sure if he's processing the emotions or internalizing them.  I don't know how close he actually was to the deceased, John.  However, I'm fairly certain that they had a nice relationship, if he chose Learnmore to travel to Malawi with him for his procedure.  He is on holiday from school, so he's not missing anything at home.  I make tea for Learnmore and we chat.  The work waiting on me at the hospital takes a different perspective.  It's a situation that would seem bizarre at home.  Taking care of a 14 year old is a situation that I would probably run from - most likely.  But here, in Malawi, it almost seems normal.  I also understand my role and responsibility with Learnmore.  It's not in my job description, like lots of things I do here, but it's part of why I'm here.  I'm here to serve and life is much, much bigger than CURE.  

Fast forward a few hours and it's malawian monday at the house.  Lawrence comes over along with Peter (UK med student), Mwara (malawian doctor) and Veith (gap year German volunteer).  We prepare a traditional malawian meal - nsima with pumpkin leaves.  Peter also adds to the menu with a bag of grasshoppers from the market.  We heat them and salt them to taste.  We sit down and enjoy a meal together along with Learnmore.  

I take Learnmore to the McGraths on thursday for bible study and dinner.  The rest of the week, we sit at the guesthouse.  He plays on the computer and rides my bike.  He acts like a typical 14 year old.  During the workday, he sits in my office or goes to the cafe to watch soccer.  He says that he's not bored, I don't know if he's just being nice or not.  He's well behaved and grateful.  

On friday, Shamira (private patient administrator) at CURE tells me that the body is ready for viewing at 10am and a cremation service will take place at 2pm.  I was planning on shooting 2 surgeries Friday morning.  I scratch my entire to-do list.  Lawrence agrees to work hard to try to get as much as possible done.  I know I need to be with Learnmore.  The viewing wasn't too emotional - we walked around the body lying on a table in the center of the room.  Learnmore is emotionless.  I suggest that he spends a couple minutes alone in the room with John's body.  He does.  We leave and Learnmore puts his head in his hands.  I think he's breaking, but it's not the case.  He looks up and he's fine.  We walk back to the hospital.

At 1pm, we jump in the back of an ambulance to head to the cremation at a hindu temple with a few other CURE staff.  John wasn't hindu, the temple is the only place close to the hospital that handles cremation services.  We arrive a few minutes later and I observe the pile of wood sitting under a large metal shelter.  John's body is completely wrapped in a white sheet lying on a back board next to the wood.  The mortuary assistant that transported the body asks Learnmore if he knows what is about to take place.  He is briefed on the planned ceremony.  The body will be placed on the wood and then there will be a few words.  After a short prayer, Learnmore will be asked to light the fire.  The body and the wood will burn down before a few more remarks and then we depart.  Not a long service, but a highly intense one.

Stuart, CURE director, opens with a few words.  He then prays and Learnmore is asked if he's ready. The boy is handed a large burning stick.  He walks around the body in the pile of wood and lights different logs ablaze.  I hug him as he finished and we stand back from the heat and watch the fire.  The thoughts running through my head are BIG, massive questions.  This boy shouldn't be here on his own, putting fire to his adopted father.  He shouldn't be in a strange country with complete strangers trying to comfort him.  Or should he?  What if he is in the best place for what seems to be a worst case scenario? My thoughts are scattered.  I feel myself tearing up.  I have to reset - Learnmore is not emotional, I surely can't be in front of him.  I hold back the tears but the questions flood my head.

I realize that as a westerner, I perceive everything including death differently.  Death is still tough here, but people continue on with their lives.  We analyze and overanalyze the details of death.  For an african, death is natural and matter of fact.  Everyone goes and there are no mistakes in death.  They accept it and continue moving.  There is a grief period but it looks different.  It feels different.  Not saying that either perspective is right or wrong, but it's very different.

Sorry for the lengthy post, but my heart is heavy and writing helps.  Learnmore left with a couple missionaries in the area that were headed back to Zim this morning.  I pray for safety and comfort when he returns home.  I met him less than a week ago but my experiences with him will always be with me.  All we can do is keep fighting the good fight and trust God in all situations.  God works in ways that we don't understand.

photos from this year...

tears in the dirt

It hit me.  More powerful than anything I've felt here.  It rattled me.  It almost took me down.  I paced around for a minute trying to be strong.  I knew what I had to do.  I had to pick Lawrence up, hug him and walk back outside to the gathered villagers.

The site is Ovaha's Hut, the home village of my translator/partner at CURE, Lawrence.  A group of 6 traveled there during a Malawi public holiday on March 4.  It was my 3rd time visiting the village.   We encouraged the elders, played with the kids and gave away donated clothing and essentials.  We spent time talking with a group of about 50 gathered in a small clearing in front of Lawrence's mother's house.  The elders sitting on mats, the children nestled together sitting on the grass.  Someone brought chairs for our small group, but I always refuse to be the only one sitting in a proper chair.  I made my way to a group of kids and made friends quickly.  Lawrence had asked if I would say a few words so I thanked everyone for gathering, and for making us feel welcome.  I prayed over the villagers and my friend Jonathan (also part of our group) translated.

When it was time to distribute washing soap, salt, bath soap and clothes....I mingled into the crowd.  I was going to let Lawrence distribute since it's his project.  I want the donations to come from him, he is the reason that we're there.  So I took a seat and watched as the elders smiled big as Lawrence placed items in their rough, wrinkled hands.  We took lots of clothing for the kids so the excitement and chatter peaked when Lawrence unpacked a box full of small shirts and trousers.  The kids couldn't have been more excited.  The shirts were going fast when I realized that we were going to run out.  We never know how many children will show up on our visits.  I had a plan of telling the children that got left out that we would get them something during our next visit in April.  The children weren't too disappointed when they heard that from Lawrence.  8 children had been left out.  No big deal.  At least I thought.

I was about to start snapping photos of the children in their new clothing when I saw Lawrence walking away in tears.  He was headed towards a neighbor's house.  I quickly followed him.  Once inside, he crashed to the dirt floor.  In a living room only containing a coffee table that was stood upright to make room for guests and some pots, no furniture.  The room was no bigger than a pantry or laundry room and was HOT and humid.  It was there that I saw my brother, friend and partner break down.  He was sobbing and breathing heavily.  It never crossed my mind to ask him what happened.  I could feel his emotion, I thought I knew the cause.  It was the 8 kids that had been left out.  It was the feeling of hopelessness.  It was the feeling of trying to help knowing it's not enough.  It's the feeling of not being able to stop the pain.

When he finally calmed down, he said "God gave me a huge task."  The only words uttered in that house.  I didn't agree with him or respond.  I just hugged him.  It's the moment when words will mean nothing and you just respond the only way you know how, with love.  After a couple minutes, he gathered his composure and we exited the house to return to the group.  The day ended with laughter, hugs and lots of photos.

Looking back on that day a couple weeks ago, I still think about his tears.  I work with Lawrence everyday and hang out with him outside of the hospital.  I treat him just like my friends at home.  I forget that he is struggling every single week.  I forget that his straw roof leaks.  I forget that he can't go out to eat whenever he wishes.  I forget that he has to walk 45 minutes to the hospital everyday.  I forget that he's trying to help a village when he barely has enough for himself.  I forget that he suffers and deals with it better than I deal with my own crap.  It's moments at the village that I see what a hard life in Malawi does to a person.

It puts everything in perspective.  I'm thankful for feeling greedy and spoiled.  I'm thankful that I feel shame for my petty worries.  Maybe I'll toughen up and become a stronger person.  Maybe I'll find more important things to tackle.  Maybe I'll find others that need a hug.  Maybe I'll be ready when real struggles hit.