What is normal?
My normal isn't normal anymore.
It's a relative term.
What is normal to you isn't normal to me.
My clothes dry on a barbed wire fence.
A corner of the hallway is both the toilet and the shower.
The walls are made of water-stained plaster.
The roof is made of tin sheet metal.
My feet are constantly stained red by the African mud.
I live out of a backpack.
It's never been completely unpacked.
I own five shirts.
One pair of pants.
Two pairs of shorts.
Two skirts.
I think I have three socks.
I bucket shower with cold water.
I eat boiled potatoes, cabbage, rice, beans, ugali and chipati everyday.
Children wave and yell when I walk past.
Floors are made of dirt instead of linoleum or tile.
I have been in a state of almost constant motion for eight months.
My passport has twenty-something stamps in it now.
An eight hour bus ride is nothing…because I know it can be so much worse.
I have a myriad of cultural tidbits and facts stuck in my head.
Things like how not to point at things, what hand not to use, how to eat strange fruits, and what is considered rude, are always running through my head.
Elephants, storks, camels, and giraffes have replaced my usual animal sightings.
It's an uncommon life.
It's a beautiful life.
This is my normal.
Sometimes it feels like I left an eternity ago. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. Most days, it doesn't feel like I'm living a crazy life and this African environment and the oh-so-not-normal ness of everyday doesn't even phase me anymore.
My normal has been replaced.
It's not a big deal anymore…but at the same time, things have never been more of a big deal. What's being stripped away is everything that doesn't matter.
What I need vs. what I want.
My comfort vs. the needs of people around me.
My ideas of what should happen vs. being patient for God's plan.
Learning what it is I'm willing to let go of or go without, and what I'm unwilling to compromise on to live for what I believe.
The things I refuse to let go of.
My normal isn't normal anymore.
It's a relative term.
What is normal to you isn't normal to me.
My clothes dry on a barbed wire fence.
A corner of the hallway is both the toilet and the shower.
The walls are made of water-stained plaster.
The roof is made of tin sheet metal.
My feet are constantly stained red by the African mud.
I live out of a backpack.
It's never been completely unpacked.
I own five shirts.
One pair of pants.
Two pairs of shorts.
Two skirts.
I think I have three socks.
I bucket shower with cold water.
I eat boiled potatoes, cabbage, rice, beans, ugali and chipati everyday.
Children wave and yell when I walk past.
Floors are made of dirt instead of linoleum or tile.
I have been in a state of almost constant motion for eight months.
My passport has twenty-something stamps in it now.
An eight hour bus ride is nothing…because I know it can be so much worse.
I have a myriad of cultural tidbits and facts stuck in my head.
Things like how not to point at things, what hand not to use, how to eat strange fruits, and what is considered rude, are always running through my head.
Elephants, storks, camels, and giraffes have replaced my usual animal sightings.
It's an uncommon life.
It's a beautiful life.
This is my normal.
Sometimes it feels like I left an eternity ago. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. Most days, it doesn't feel like I'm living a crazy life and this African environment and the oh-so-not-normal ness of everyday doesn't even phase me anymore.
My normal has been replaced.
It's not a big deal anymore…but at the same time, things have never been more of a big deal. What's being stripped away is everything that doesn't matter.
What I need vs. what I want.
My comfort vs. the needs of people around me.
My ideas of what should happen vs. being patient for God's plan.
Learning what it is I'm willing to let go of or go without, and what I'm unwilling to compromise on to live for what I believe.
The things I refuse to let go of.
Normal is defined as: Conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected.
The usual, average, or typical state or condition.
There is nothing normal about this life.
And that's quite alright.
