Myanmar was simple. It was not westernized in the slightest, which may be why it was my favorite month. There was so much to learn from the children who lack everything that americans consider a “necessity”, but truly could be lived without. and honestly, they thrive without a lot of the stuff we have in abundance. I learned a lot from them.
One of the first days we were there, I was asking one of the boys, Messi, what his favorite food was. to my surprise, he said pizza (although later I learned he had never even had it, he’s 19). He shared the difficulty of getting pizza, because they don’t get out of Hlegu very often, and the closest pizza is in Yangon, about an hour or so away. Immediately, I wanted to throw a pizza party for them.
I wanted to celebrate the people. I wanted to bless them. They love us so so well, so we could do this one, tiny thing for them. So my mind was set on having a pizza party, bringing pizza from the city back to our small village, and just celebrating them for who they are.
Yangon is filled with Pizza Company’s, but for the people in Hlegu, it’s incredibly expensive. A large is about 12,900 kyat, equal to about $8.60. That’s way too expensive for them to spend on food. It’s just something they wouldn’t do.
So on our last Sunday, a few of us decided to get a taxi to the city and buy 25 pizzas to bring back for the kids. We bought the Pizza Company out of their medium and large pizzas… oops. And we took it back and watched the kids stare as we unloaded the taxi and put the pizzas on our table. An hour later, we gathered them all in the chapel and I shared my heart in wanting to bless them because of how well they’ve loved us and how much we’ve enjoyed our time together, and then we prayed. All of our college students had their phones out and were taking pictures and videos, smiling the biggest I’ve ever seen them smile, and the children were laughing hysterically. I don’t think I’ve ever seen pizza make someone so happy.
In that moment, pizza broke my heart. Pizza, something that we do often feel so entitled to (i’m so guilty, not having pizza a lot on the race is ROUGH), is something that is such a luxury for them. Out of all the people there, ages ten to fifty, it was most of their first times eating pizza. We live in so much abundance in America. Pizza is one of those foods we feed to our kids when they can finally start eating solid foods. It’s one of those foods that’s at every social event. Anywhere you go, you can get pizza. We are so entitled to it, but to see such overflowing joy from getting two slices of pizza, wow. A complete perspective shift.
It’s hard not to feel guilty. When pizza is something we feel so entitled to, and it’s something that these children are so blessed by, it’s hard not to feel guilty for the abundance I have. But Myanmar, in all it’s simplicity and days where roughing it seemed like an understatement, I learned that the Lord blessed me so that I can bless others. And even in the moments that I am blessing others, those are the moments I feel the most blessed. Those smiles, something I’ll never forget. So, so blessed to learn from these children.
