“Africans like to sing and dance,” our pastor told us. And they do it until midnight on some days. It was about to be time for a youth service and all I had asked God for was energy. It was a 10 p.m. service and to say that I was tired was a huge understatement.
We’re in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania this month and we have often called it the hottest place on earth. One morning at 10:30 it was 105 degrees Fahrenheit and the humidity level was through the roof. It’s really hot even at nighttime so we sleep very little and can easily become grumpy.
So when I asked for just a little bit of energy to make it until midnight, the time the service was to be over, I thought He’d give me the energy to keep my eyes open. Little did I know that as soon as we arrived we’d be dancing for an hour.
The four of us from the team who went made futile attempts at dancing like the Tanzanians did as they danced around the room praising God. And it was great.
I often think about running into H squad in September when our group was in month two. I remember seeing them and hearing them talk about being tired and thinking, “How could you ever get tired of this? Life is so fun!”
I’m now in month 8 and fully understand.
Travel days are more difficult to recover from, feedbacking with your team and talking about your emotions every night is exhausting, and being around people becomes a chore since you haven’t been alone in so long. I’m tired. I’m physically, spiritually and emotionally tired.
Every coping mechanism I’ve ever had in my life is long gone.
The margaritas that’d calm my nerves after work are nowhere to be found.
So are the mocha frappuccinos I’d drink in the break room once or twice a day.
The nights of going out with friends to just have a little fun…gone.
Dressing up to make myself feel better–well, I can safely say that I have never felt as unattractive as I do now, with my hair pulled up, sticky sweat trickling down my equally sticky body that hasn’t seen soap and water in a couple of days.
Sleeping definitely isn’t an option. It’s hard enough to do that at night and stuff needs to get done during the day.
The only coping mechanism I have left is God. That’s it.
And that’s all I need, really. Because since that night, life has become easier to bear. Don’t get me wrong. The heat sucks, our team still has its struggles, and I wish I looked cuter, but what will I get from wishing this time away? Nothing.
So instead of crying, I’m choosing to laugh. Instead of giving up, I’m pressing in more. Instead of shutting up or shutting down, I’m speaking up and speaking out.
After this month we only have three months left.
And it’s going to be a dance party.
