To Give is to Receive...

I wrote this out by hand and it took about 7 drafts for me to put together something that may remotely make sense. It seems more and more these days my thoughts just run together as I try to wrap my mind about being here (I know you think 16 months in I would have a better idea, but things change daily), wrap my mind around where I'm going in life in general (this is a bit tricky seeing as things are unpredictable but having some general idea of where I'm heading is nice) and wrapping my mind around just how I got here to begin with. The more I reflect, the more I learn. The more I learn, the more I grow. The more I grow, the more I move forward. Speaking of moving forward, I guess I should move forward with the purpose of this.


To give is to receive (part 1)

I’m around 8 years old. My mom and I are at 7-11 and I have a few dollars to indulge my sweet tooth. I make my purchase and head for the car. As I’m walking to the car I’m asked by a man standing outside the door if I had some spare change. I glance at him, then hand him my remaining dollar and continue to the car. I get to the car where my mother is waiting for me. She hands me a dollar because she saw that I had given my last dollar to man who asked. My mother was teaching me a lesson that day that I would not grasp until several years later.
Growing up, I would like to believe I was a helpful child. The values instilled in me, watching my mother give herself freely to the needs of her community, would in its due time hopefully rub off on me. At the time I considered myself a tomboy. I was all about the sports-football, basketball, soccer, figure skating, and gymnastics, with my busy schedule that had time for other people? I was not particularly passionate about community service, I would help out with things like Trashbusters, Safetytown, tutoring and the like but I could never commit fully because I did not quite see the point.
(Fast forward to the summer prior to my junior year of high school).
I had been invited by a good friend to attend a mission trip to the Appalachian Mountains to help repair homes. Through her church youth group we raised the money to be participants for the Appalachian Service Project. I can say that this trip changed my life. Walking into that I didn’t recognize the true purpose of giving, walking away something was ignited in me. Something clicked and I knew that, this work, for people, with people, is exactly what I should be doing. I still remember the family of 3 we served. I can still see this mother with her two beautiful children doing the best she could given the circumstances she was born into. Going into this experience I thought about what we would be giving them, a warmer home for the winter, a fresh coat of paint, and memories of a bunch of inexperienced teenagers rehabbing a room in their home. Coming out of that experience I realized that it was much bigger then what had been given, that I too was given something in return. I was given a lesson in compassion, community, and love. At that point I knew it was no longer about me, my “me” turned into “my community” because I have learned that while we serve others, we serve ourselves.
It’s a secret to some but for many of you, you already know that my aspiration since I was 4 was to become a doctor. First, it was a pediatrician because I love working with children, then later primarily focus on neonatology because I felt the children I would care for would need my care the most. Boy, how things change. As I was working on my graduate school application, I had the daunting task of writing a personal statement of whom I was and why this particular program is the right fit for me. Trying to figure out just how I got here, a Peace Corps Volunteer in Malawi took some time because everything growing up seemed to point me in the opposite direction. I can say that there are 3 things that have had a strong bearing on where I am now; my mother, my high school English teacher Mr. Newman, and The Appalachia Service Project. My mother showed me what true giving is and how to give wholeheartedly without expecting anything in return. Mr. Newman showed me how a teacher can touch the lives of their students by caring not just about the assignment but the individual, and The Appalachia Service Project, being my first real act of service to others I did not know, helping me shape my perspective of the world and my role in it. Countless others have had influence on me and the path I am taking, and countless others are still influencing the decisions I make.
Finding my passion, something that can be frustrating at time, is the most fulfilling thing for me. The feeling that I get by knowing I'm assisting someone reach the level of privilege I was born into is indescribable. Now as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I think back to my first real experience of service, the giving of my time and resources to that family in Appalachia, the lesson that giving is receiving, you can not serve others without serving yourself, has carried over to my work here.

)art II...

Here I am. In Malawi. Precisely at this moment I'm laying on the floor of our Administrative Officers' house, indulging myself in the high speed Internet. Talk about going from one extreme to the other. Just a few days ago, I was laying on my bed, wondering how it can possibly get hot despite the sun setting,and figuring out ways to entertain myself until I'm tired enough to go to bed. When I come to the city, or even when I leave my village and go to the nearby trading center, I'm always asked how I could possibly leave America and all that I have there, to come here and live with out electricity and running water. How do I not go crazy living in a village despite spending 23 years living in urban areas? Easy, I just readjust my expectations and I understand now, more so than before, the difference between a need and want. Yeah, at times it sucks not being able to switch on a light, but after 16 months I'm still alive and intact, all my daily needs are met-I have water(I'm 150m from the lake and I'm 150m from a borehole, water is not in short supply), there's electricity by the road so my phone gets charged when needed. I cook with paraffin or firewood(the fuel shortage caused the price of paraffin to go up and its kind of scarce still), and the sun provides my solar charger with the energy needed to charge my MP3 player so I can still enjoy my music. Life is simple, but it works. All my basic needs are met and if they weren't I would have access to places and resources where they can be met. Either way resources are there and I'm surviving. Its hard to explain to someone just why I would escape my life of luxuries in the states to come and live in "poverty", its hard to explain that even though the benefits are not financial, I do gain a better understanding of myself and the world I live in, which I find to be priceless. So, readjusting expectations, easy? Not really, it brings about a lot of inner dialogue and self-realizations that may not always be the easiest thing to digest. What I have to say may come off as confusing, angry, lacking general understanding, or none of the above. My privilege as put me in a place that has allowed for me to stand above a majority of the world and I didn't do a damn thing to earn it except be a product of two people residing in America. I was born into a world of privilege that my socioeconomic status really has no bearing on, my caramel colored skin has no bearing on, and my gender has no bearing on. Even though all three of these things can cause an initial barrier to certain opportunities and experiences, it has not restricted me from obtaining a free education throughout secondary school and it has allowed me to walk away from university only responsible for 15% of the cost. My privilege has allowed for me to swoop down to a developing country and contribute what I believe is needed(but of course inclusive of what my community needs). My privilege gives me access to resources that not everyone has and because of this realization I find it difficult for me to sit back and listen to people complain about the harsh realities of life...in America. Yeah, jobs are scarce, people are losing their homes, things in general are just fucked up, but being here, seeing just how fucked up things really can be puts a lot of things into perspective. In America, there are social systems in place to keep children from being malnourished, in America, in most places, water runs from the tap, and resources are there. Being here, I have to figure out just how to bring resources to my community that will benefit then in the most sustainable manner. I don't have tons of money, so what other resources can I bring? When I think about the greatest resource I have, I think about my access to education. To me, education is the best gift to give someone. With that knowledge doors open, options become available and things slowly but surely improve. I spend close to 50% of my living allowance on my community.My living allowance is around 56,000MK or 366USD every two months. Now, if you think I'm handing out kwacha like some rapper in a music video, that is not the case. 11,000MK goes toward school fees for students who wouldn't otherwise be able to attend school. I purchase school supplies, such as pens and composition books, to ensure that my students are able to take notes(I'm not a fan of excuses). 5000 to 10000MK on project related expenses(seeds, modules for studying) and around 5,000MK on unexpected emergencies(medicine, transport, etc.). People(not everyone, I know some of you may believe I'm taken advantage of, not the case. People who ask are friends who know that I know they're not looking for a free ride and are in general need of assistance.) feel comfortable asking me because I believe in giving the excess I have, I tend to have excess kwacha because my needs, and not my wants, are met. I have a budget of $3 a day because that's all I need. I share my resources because I have resources to share. My community in turn shares whatever resources they have. I don't buy rice or flour, I'm given plenty, and have enough to last me the remainder of my time here. I'm given eggs from the neighbors' flock, or bananas, or greens, firewood, or charcoal,or whatever they have to share. So although, I spend 1/2 my living allowance on my community, my needs are still being met. I prefer spending 20MK on a bar a soap for one of my girls because I know what can happen or what they will have to do to get that soap otherwise(think..). I guess what I'm getting at is the lesson we all learn from an early age, but tend to forget. A lesson I feel that given the state America is in now, would prove beneficial. The lesson of sharing. I don't give anything, I share. When I have excess and the excess I have you need, then why shouldn't I share? When you have excess and i'm in need, why not share what you have with me? This to me, I believe, is the true idea or picture, of what community is. I believe that if we functioned more as a community in America, then the blow of a failing economy would not be as harsh. I can continue on and on about the importance of sharing and being a part of a community, but i'm not. I think you should experience it for yourself and see how you feel about it. I know this may not make much sense and may be all over,i'm ok with that. Anyway, i'm tired of typing and i'm tired of thinking, so i'm going to give it a break. Please know that I'm happy and grateful to have all of you a part of my community( and I hope you will consider sharing your excess with me when I come back broke...haha just kidding...but not really) This is just some food for thought, at least in my mind, and I have no problem sharing my thoughts with anyone willing to listen to them.

Part III...
I peered out my front window to see an unusual sight. There’s a large truck loaded up with all the belongings of the family of my headmaster. I hurry and change into a skirt, put on my flip flops, and rush over to see if what I was really seeing was true. I watched as Mrs.Katanga held Rose while Zione and Memory climbed up into the cab of the truck. Mrs. Katanga and the others had not noticed me standing there., For months now I was aware that my headmaster Mr.Katanga would be moving, he had been reposted. He was supposed to move in November but up until now it had not happened. I was in denial and secretly thought they would continue delaying his reposting until I left. Before now I didn’t think about what it would be like when the Katangas were gone. You never quite know just how much a person has had an impact on you. I walked quietly up to the truck, blending in with the small crowd that has formed to say good bye to this family, my family. As Mrs. Katanga began climbing up to the cab with her granddaughter Rose, I said just above a whisper “yendani bwino,” immediately Mrs.Katanga turns around with one of her huge smiles, she hands Rose over to the driver and climbs back down. As she held both of my hands she tells me that I must visit soon, their American daughter will always be welcomed in their home. I told her I will and standing there with the small crowd as she climbed back in, waved goodbye. My student Chisomo, nephew to Mr.Katanga, saw me standing there as they were driving away and with a smile shouted “Hasta Luego,Madam!”(Yes, I taught my students some Spanish, just the greetings). As I was walking back to my house, it took a lot for me not to begin crying, but as soon as the door was opened the tears came. It’s hard to describe or to say just what I’m feeling and I feel about this particular family. My family, my biggest supporters, are now 100k south as opposed to 50m northeast. From the moment I was brought to Kasitu by Mr.Katanga, his family has welcomed me as one of their own. Having them here has made it easier dealing with the fact that my own family is thousands of miles away. Anytime I was homesick I could always go there, someone would always be there. I think of all the memories of trips to Dwangwa, the lake, playing cards, coloring, watching football, listening to the radio, eating, these memories we have shared and can only hope that we will be able to share some more memories in the future. I’m grateful for the generosity and love this family has shown me over the year and I will miss having them near me tremendously. It just isn’t the same Kasitu without them.

As I sat in my home with tears running down my cheeks I realized that I never told the Katangas how much I appreciate having them around, how much I appreciate their kindness, openness, and how I will forever be indebted to them for the hand they extended graciously and generously to a stranger. Its not to late to let them know, but until I do, I’m going to do my best to let others know just how much I appreciate having them as a part of my life. It’s almost Valentines Day and love is in the air, so I just want to let you all know that I appreciate and love you all. Thank you for providing me with the support that I need to make it this far in my service and in life. To give is to receive and although I give of myself, my time, to people a half a world away from home, I receive love and blessing from there. I appreciate all that you give so I can continue to do work I’m passionate about.

Unitl next time...
Yewu Ukongwa!