Today has been the hardest day home by far. Culture Shock hit me in the face pretty hard. I was triggered by something of little importance, but quickly opened the door to a flood of emotions tied to Africa. I miss Africa too much.
Instead of writing a blog about all the reasons the United States, or more realistically my community (trying not to generalize), is getting on my nerves and how it could be better, I wanted to write a blog about some of the things I miss in Africa. Emotional expression is something I struggle with, but I will try my best to capture the emotional ties I have to Africa.
Fearless were the people of Africa. Although faced with many life-threatening circumstances, they were fearless. Worry was far from them, but with them was the courage to act. The courage to bear through the burden, the toil, and the never-ending fight for survival. Jobs are rare, food is not abundant, and the environment is harsh. However, cowardness is not an option. As the sun begins to set, the kids run freely down the street, laughing with their friends while kicking the soccer ball. It was not safe, but it was free, They probably spent the first half of their day helping their parents with very hard work, but now is the time to have happiness and joy. The adults sit outside their house, laughing and singing, although they might not have a clue where their not meal is coming from. They welcome their neighbors, their old friend, and the random guy they have never seen before into their home. They ask each other about their day and tell of the joy they have found in the hardship. There may be a rumor or two about the collapsing government, but it is not the focus. Everyone is outside, for it is much cooler than the inside. As the darkness begins to come to the face of the earth, the insects begin their nightly rounds. But no one minds, for company and fellowship is more important than the itchiness of their skin. As their meals are finished cooking, all gather around to enjoy this fine blessing. For some, it is the first of the day. The meal is met with a lightheartedness like no other. Pure joy and contentment.
As I lie down, I think of the hardships and the delights of the day, my family, and of Abigail. I look out the open window within a yard of my face (I had one of these in each country). Sometimes I hear two people arguing far away, but more often I hear the laughter of people, the crickets or other animals, or the sound of the wind. Sometimes It would begin to rain, and if the wind was just right, and the rain was just strong enough, I would feel a few drops hit my face. Like the promise of a new beginning, it reminded me of God’s living water for all of us to drink. His goodness and grace lavish itself upon us daily, awaiting our acceptance of it. I loved this reminder so much. I loved my window, gazing up at the clear night filled with millions of stars, I would remember how big God is, and how tiny I am. Yet His love is greater still. With this symbol of His great goodness, we never shut the windows.
I miss Africa dearly. This mourning of my departure should not be cut short, for its work is still manifesting in my heart. I long to be as joyful, fearless, and strong of the people of Africa. I learned so much from them, and hope to bring some of that back to the land of the hustle and bustle, the worry worry worry, and plentiful whatever you want you can get it if you try. I do love the US, but for now, I have forgotten how. Now is a time for mourning and remembrance of the beautiful work I witnessed.
While writing this blog, I have all the lights in my room shut off. The power was often out in Africa, so it is very comforting to me. Also, I have my feet sticking out of the window, although it is raining so they are a little wet. It brings back so many good memories from my season in Africa. Whenever I see an open window from now on, I think I will smile just a little. Because after all, in Africa, we never shut the windows.
