I came in from the fields today feeling ashamed of myself. I did quite a bit of research before I decided to do the World Race. I was looking for three things: a one-year commitment, a faith base, and the opportunity to travel to a 3rd world country and immerse myself in the culture as I worked alongside the people. I knew that the majority of people in the world live on less than $2 a day and I wanted to know if that was possible for me, what that felt like, and what the options were. I wanted to see what their homes looked like,what kind of conveniences they had, and how many career choices were available. I wanted to LIVE like they live and come home with a heightened awareness of what it really means to be an American. I had hoped my perspective on needs verses wants would be transformed and I would develop a greater appreciation for the little things in life. The country of Mozambique has certainly helped to accomplish these goals, but getting to that point was a humbling experience.
I've been working at Beacon of Hope, a home for boys, since mid December. 13-17 year old boys from all over Mozambique apply for the program, but only 10 are taken each year. This organization provides the boys with food and water, a place to sleep, and a better education. They do not have to pay, but none of it is free. Each boy is required to work the field (where they get their food), attend remedial classes (so they can graduate), clean and do other chores around the house during the day, then attend Mozambican public school in the evening. It's a lot of work but all of the requirements help the boys develop a strong work ethic which is necessary for them to break the poverty cycle they are born into. If they stay in school they can stay at Beacon of Hope, otherwise they are dismissed. If they graduate from high school they can get a better job, earn a higher income, and provide a better life for their families.
When my team and I arrived at Beacon of Hope the fields where unplanted, overgrown, rocky, full of burrs, hot and dirty. The heat is manageable at 5:00 am, but overwhelming by 7:00 and unbearable by 12:00. TO get the most out of our day we've been getting up good and early to head out to work hoeing, digging, clearing, and preparing the gardens for the boys to maintain when they return from break. I'll be honest, this is not my favorite thing to do. I realize it's for a good cause, but it isn't fun, there is no relief from the heat, the sun is burning my skin, I'm tired and I'm dehydrated.
The water is undrinkable. Most of the people have to hike more than a mile to get their water from a village pump, bring it home, then boil it before they can use it. At least we have a faucet with running water, but we do have to filter or boil it before we can drink it. This takes an exorbitant amount of time, and with 20 mouths to fill there never seems to be quite enough to go around. Needles to say, we are frequently hot, tired, and thirsty.
Most Africans take a break during the hottest part of the day and nap on the side of the road or under a tree, so we follow suite and take our lunch break from 12-2. By this point we are exhausted because all we ever have for breakfast is bread, and that just doesn't provide the energy needed to slave away in the hot African sun all day. So, we eat lunch, usually rice, and try to find a place to rest. This siesta is a nice reprieve from the manual labor but there is still no way to escape the heat. The house we are living in has a metal roof which the heat radiates off of, so if you sit down to try and relax you end up getting cooked by the house. It's oppressive. There is no A/C, and fans aren't really a big help because the electric goes out at will – it normally flickers off and on between 12:00 pm and 10:00 pm.
Today was particularly hot, about 105 degrees. Unfortunately, there was no water at all because the pump was broken. If I were in this situation back home I would run across the street to 7-11 and pick up a case of water. However, there is no 7-11 here. There is no convenience store or McDonald's, Starbucks, or Dunkin Donuts either. In order to get to any stores at all you have to travel into the city, which becomes an all-day event that usually requires a couple of days advance notice and planning.
See, the majority of people don't have cars so they have to call and wait for public transportation. I don't know if you've heard this before or not, but Africans live a much more relaxed life than most Americans, so they aren't exactly known for their promptness (I waited 8 hours for a bus one day). Needless to say, people really don't get out much, even if that means going without water for a day or two.
So there I was, hoeing the field, sweating and burning under the blistering hot sun. I was tired, hungry, and frustrated. I raised the hoe one more time, and as it fell to the earth I felt my skin tear. A ripped callous. "That's it!" I thought. "This is ridiculous! No one should have to be working outside in the 105 degree heat with hardly anything to eat and no water. I'm not doing anymore today." I put my hoe down. I stood up and arched backwards to stretch out my aching back. Then I relaxed. As I took in a deep breath I looked around and noticed something I hadn't before. The fields all around me were filled with Africans who were doing the same things I was doing. At that moment I realized, THIS is how they LIVE. They eat bread (or nothing at all) for breakfast everyday. They get up early and hike for the little drinking water they have. They cook over coals. Their diets consist of rice and corn. They have no A/C. They can't rely on electricity. They don't have the luxury of spending an afternoon at Starbucks or an evening at the movie theater. They don't have cars. They can't go anywhere. They can't get away from the heat, and if they don't garden they starve . . . Now you can see why I was feeling ashamed of myself. I came all the way to the other side of the world to see what is was like to live in a 3rd world country, and as soon as I got what I asked for I complained about it and wanted to quit.
I was still frustrated, hot, tired, hungry, sweaty, and thirsty. But I picked my hoe up off the ground and got back to work.
I don't begrudge these people for the way they live. In fact, I respect them. But I know I don't want to live this way. I wanna eat applejacks for breakfast and keep my milk and eggs in a refrigerator. I wanna drive all the way out to my sister's house for dinner just to turn around and come home again. I wanna stop by Starbucks on my way to work in the morning, meet my girlfriends at the Coffee House for breakfast on Saturday, and commiserate with the guys at Isaac's after play rehearsal. I wanna turn on the A/C when the temperature is above 80 degrees, and I wanna see snow. I don't think I ever wanna go back to Mozambique but I am thankful for the lessons it has taught me. I have become so much more thankful for all of the "little things."
Oops . . . That's what a day in the field will do . . .
