Almost every day at 3:00 pm and then once more at 6:00 pm jets will roar over Nampula. They are just like the jet I came in on. They are also the same jets that will take me home in just over 5 weeks. The thought of returning home is constantly in my head lately. I am overwhelmed with Joy to see my Family and Friends! I can barely wait!
The thing about those daily jets is you can't ignore them. They're soo loud and the airport is practically on Nampula's front porch. It's like a bulldozer in your kitchen trying to get a drink of water, not an entirely deft creature.
You know, there're many things I'd rather ignore at the moment and only realize after the fact or while it's happening. For example, if there was a bulldozer in my kitchen trying to get a drink of water, one would immediatly assume wreakage is behind him and shortly, the whole house would be destroyed in his search for water. Personally, I would not opt to know that a thirsty bulldozer is coming to destroy my house in advance. The agony of looking for and hearing the slow thirsty beast would be the worst part . You know its coming, you hear its diesel engine, but you can't stop it. It's just going to happen and what's worse is you have to wait for it.
My thirsty bulldozer is the dumb daily jets! Imagine knowing that one day you get to come home to family and friends, and every day you see the thing thats going to take you home. EVERY DAY! But, your turn to go is 11 months away, then 10, then 9, and so on. Sure, you're busy with work, you're doing your best with research, and you've been blessed with friends; but in the back of your mind you know "I am leaving in a bit." My bulldozer isn't going to destroy my house; it's going to take me home, but its been creaking along on my front portch for almost a year. Needless to say, I am constantly reminded that one day I am going back to Canada. I'd rather just have the days go by and then BAM "Wow its time to pack up. Sweet!"
It isn't that way for me, no, my lot is to look at that jet and pick a window. I stare at that window and imagine I have been lucky enough to get a window seat. YES, I love window seats! I imagine, I'm sitting in my seat looking down at Nampula and its surrounding mountains that we have climbed. I pick out the office and credit cooperative, where I worked for a year. I look for the houses of the friends that I have laughed and cried with. I pick out the neighbourhoods I've been roaming for months trying to interview members. (side note: one just flew over right NOW!!! DUMB BEAST.) I look through that little window trying to understand what happened in this year, trying to capture memories of what I have learned and have yet to learn. Then I imagine, sitting back sinking into my seat a very content young man because I've done what I came to do. I stare at that window reminding myself there is work to be done today. There is at least a few tasks to be done, I must do them. I just take on step at a time and added up those steps take me closer to that young man in the window.
I would like to quickly update in other news before I finish this post.
Research is going well I have a total of about 42 interviews done, exhausting my inirial study sample. I am currently trying to work out another selection process so that I can try to test a hunch I have. If it works I'll be happy, but if it doesn't then we will just have to make do. Either way I don't know what I'm doing!
Another manager change! Since I've been here I've seen two mangers come and go. Honest good managers are hard to come by in Nampula. :(
I had a weekend way back in the jungle last weekend visiting Estevão's uncle; it was tons of fun staying out there because it was really basic. Some would see it as poverty, but it strikes me more as making do quite well with next to nothing. Then sunday afternoon we heard some bad news about Estevãos cousin. So we traveled to the hospital where she was and it wasn't good. I feel like I should leave it at that, and I will, but it was the most aweful thing I have witnessed. My heart breaks for that poor girl. I can't stop thinking about it, and its partly why I am writing this. I've been thinking a lot and I needed to write something. Lets keep going forward.
Much Love, Jer.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Goodbye songs
The news turned into a dull, deep ache when I looked into Tiago's tired, red eyes. Though generally fueled on one meal a day, he is a tireless man, but today a tired man was standing before me. He shook my hand with the same grip and affection as always, then he told me it was true, what I had heard. His little Julia lost her life to malaria the night before. She was three years old and the symptoms came all at once leaving her little chance to fight back. He held my hand as he told me the news, yet it was as if I was on the other side of the ocean. I felt sad yet so far away from the pain I saw in his eyes.
Nobody said anything we all just hopped into the jeep and started driving to a village on the outskirts of Nampula. Tiago broke the silence a few times commenting that the roads were really bad now because of the rain, but other then that we just sat and listened to the hum of the Land Rover. Once we arrived we were all respectfully greeted and shown where to sit under the shade. I sat with the men outside in silence listening to the undulating sound of the women singing from inside the house. The dull deep ache, within me, grew with each chorus, reminding me of the family's sudden pain.
It came time to "say goodbye" so everyone huddled near the doorway of the small adobe house as Julia's uncle encouraged everyone to be courageous while leading the group in singing. He was inside singing at the top of his lungs in perfect harmony with the women in the house. He would start the chorus and the others would follow at a regular beat then he would suddenly pick up the beat and sing with all the strength he could muster. The strength and beauty of his voice, as he sang goodbye to Julia, pierced my heart in a way that no sound ever has. It collapased the ocean of distance wrapping my heart in the same loss he and the family felt.
There wasn't a single dry eye as we huddled there listening to the "goodbye". Then Julia's uncle came out inviting everyone to say "goodbye," so one after another we all made our way into the house to say "goodbye". I walked in behind my colleagues circling around to where Tiago and his family were singing, then around to where Julia's little figure lay.
To say "goodbye," some bent down to kiss her forehead. Others could barely look through the tears; most bowed respectfully whispering "goodbye". Just as I got near her body the family began to sing with such strength and beauty that even my bones seemed to be listening. I don't know that I have ever heard a sound like it, neither could I justly describe its painful beauty. The little adobe house was nearly shaking from the power with which the family sang.
After we all had said goodbye we followed the family as they took Julia's body to the nearby cemetry, which was a cleared field about 400 meters away. It was a normal field littered with small trees, mounds of dirt, and bushes; but most distinguishingly little crosses marked its rugged terrain.
Coming to the spot where they were going to lay Julia, everyone gathered in a wide circle as Julia's uncle encouraged everyone to be courageous in this time of loss. Then all the men filled in the grave as they sang goodbye. Close friends took control in the end making sure that it was marked properly and that the dirt was neatly gathered to make a little dome. At this very moment, I was struck with such a deep sorrow that I could barely move, for as I looked around that field I saw 8 other mound's of fresh dirt which had been shaped with the same care that I was seeing before me. I could only think about how many mounds there were and how tiny that village was.
How many times did this village have to say "goodbye" this month? This thought tore my heart then and even now, as I write, I keep getting this lump in my throat and watery eyes.
I have learned that saying "goodbye" is one of the hardest things we have to do. Being separated from the ones you love makes a hole inside you that only you feel and even those close to you can't see the hole. Moving away for a time because of school or work or whatever other reason is hard, but Losing a loved one makes a heart ache with the emptiness of loss.
I pray to my God that those we lose here on earth would have the hope of listening to the powerful and beautiful songs of welcome as He welcomes us into His arms. Knowing that I am wrapped in God's lasting love gives me such hope that I can't keep it to myself. I pray that those I love would know the songs of welcome to be coming in the wake of "goodbye songs". The fear that we will only sing goodbye and no angels will welcome the ones I love is unbearable.
Love you, Jer.
Nobody said anything we all just hopped into the jeep and started driving to a village on the outskirts of Nampula. Tiago broke the silence a few times commenting that the roads were really bad now because of the rain, but other then that we just sat and listened to the hum of the Land Rover. Once we arrived we were all respectfully greeted and shown where to sit under the shade. I sat with the men outside in silence listening to the undulating sound of the women singing from inside the house. The dull deep ache, within me, grew with each chorus, reminding me of the family's sudden pain.
It came time to "say goodbye" so everyone huddled near the doorway of the small adobe house as Julia's uncle encouraged everyone to be courageous while leading the group in singing. He was inside singing at the top of his lungs in perfect harmony with the women in the house. He would start the chorus and the others would follow at a regular beat then he would suddenly pick up the beat and sing with all the strength he could muster. The strength and beauty of his voice, as he sang goodbye to Julia, pierced my heart in a way that no sound ever has. It collapased the ocean of distance wrapping my heart in the same loss he and the family felt.
There wasn't a single dry eye as we huddled there listening to the "goodbye". Then Julia's uncle came out inviting everyone to say "goodbye," so one after another we all made our way into the house to say "goodbye". I walked in behind my colleagues circling around to where Tiago and his family were singing, then around to where Julia's little figure lay.
To say "goodbye," some bent down to kiss her forehead. Others could barely look through the tears; most bowed respectfully whispering "goodbye". Just as I got near her body the family began to sing with such strength and beauty that even my bones seemed to be listening. I don't know that I have ever heard a sound like it, neither could I justly describe its painful beauty. The little adobe house was nearly shaking from the power with which the family sang.
After we all had said goodbye we followed the family as they took Julia's body to the nearby cemetry, which was a cleared field about 400 meters away. It was a normal field littered with small trees, mounds of dirt, and bushes; but most distinguishingly little crosses marked its rugged terrain.
Coming to the spot where they were going to lay Julia, everyone gathered in a wide circle as Julia's uncle encouraged everyone to be courageous in this time of loss. Then all the men filled in the grave as they sang goodbye. Close friends took control in the end making sure that it was marked properly and that the dirt was neatly gathered to make a little dome. At this very moment, I was struck with such a deep sorrow that I could barely move, for as I looked around that field I saw 8 other mound's of fresh dirt which had been shaped with the same care that I was seeing before me. I could only think about how many mounds there were and how tiny that village was.
How many times did this village have to say "goodbye" this month? This thought tore my heart then and even now, as I write, I keep getting this lump in my throat and watery eyes.
I have learned that saying "goodbye" is one of the hardest things we have to do. Being separated from the ones you love makes a hole inside you that only you feel and even those close to you can't see the hole. Moving away for a time because of school or work or whatever other reason is hard, but Losing a loved one makes a heart ache with the emptiness of loss.
I pray to my God that those we lose here on earth would have the hope of listening to the powerful and beautiful songs of welcome as He welcomes us into His arms. Knowing that I am wrapped in God's lasting love gives me such hope that I can't keep it to myself. I pray that those I love would know the songs of welcome to be coming in the wake of "goodbye songs". The fear that we will only sing goodbye and no angels will welcome the ones I love is unbearable.
Love you, Jer.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Diverse
It has been three months since I updated my blog, because three months ago I came down with malaria giving me a couple of days to do nothing. Needless to say, since then, it has been very eventful!!!! I can't write about it all nor would you want to read it all, but in view of loving all those who may read this blog it seems best to write something.
What to write though!? What do you want to hear about? You see thats what I don't know, so maybe I will just write about a whole bunch of things and you can read what most interests you.
Work:
What to write though!? What do you want to hear about? You see thats what I don't know, so maybe I will just write about a whole bunch of things and you can read what most interests you.
Work:
A brutish summary looks like this. Working 7 days a week for two months, doing a feasibility study with the first Mozambican Banker (after the Colonial war he was the first Mozambican to be a director of the central bank), helping found a Credit Cooperative in Pemba, trying to figure out how to be an assistant to my boss, troubleshooting computer problems, being the driver, buying the supplies, trying to translate the annual report, planning for and attending the Annual General Assembly of Caixa Nampula!
Home:
I waxed the floor once, broke the door down twice, and got incense so it smells nice. (I rythmed!) I also got a motorcycle to cruise around on.
Friends:
I took five months but I have many friends now, and they are all quite amazing people. I need to explain, though, why I think it took five months. First, I don't have any time to chill because work is so crazy. Second, and related to the first point, one co-worker is super hard to get along with. It felt like I wasn't a co-worker but an object to do things for said person. This made work really frustrating because beyond having to work my butt off doing stuff beyond my experience this co-worker was making work a depressing place.
Third, and most importantly, I mistakenly extrapolated what was wrong at work to the rest of my friendships. More specifically, I put most of my focus and energy into my work situation and I am telling you I have tried EVERYTHING, by that I mean I have tried to bite my pride and be a part of the solution in every way I can think of. Nevertheless, little changed after the many things I tried. This lead me to think I had to walk on egg shells with everyone thus not being able to really have friendships. Finally though, I realized that putting more energy into the work environment wasn't the solution and I needed to try hard to see everyone apart from the sour apple that was so nearby everyday.
Deep Life stuff:
All of the above, and more, has lead me to pray a prayer I have never prayed before. I have finally prayed, "God, if it's not to feel the joy of this place, let me be content with You as I enter the pain of it."
It isn't that joy is non-existent here, it's just that pain and suffering seem to be a more constant reality. Sickness stings; easily stealing a child from the mother's arms and the elderly from their family's veranda. Poverty shackles; limiting a youths dreams, enslaving a women's power, and cuffing a man's diligent hands. Pain has taught to distrust under each smile. Thus wives are blamed for their husband's death, lies are told to co-workers, and money is stolen because the pain of poverty's chains and sickness's sting is a day away.
I hope to continue to pray this prayer, knowing that my God is better than the joy of a place. He is better because He can hug Mama Lucia after she has lost her husband and gets blamed for his death from his family. They say she caused his death through witchcraft, but it was actually caused by high blood pressure from his drinking problem. God can give Mama Olinda the joy to dance after losing two children in one year.
The joy of a place cannot wipe the tiers of Mama Lucia or give Mama Olinda a new dance. The joy of a place is powerless in the face of pain. Thus I have been asking myself. What is powerful enough to restore joy when it has no place being there, when it has been stung, shackled, and backstabbed.
I can think of no other power than knowing God's Love to be mine. Understanding this truth isn't natural but it is so important I cannot ignore or forget it. Life is too short.
At the funeral of the husband of Mama Lucia the pastor said something that made me think a little bit. He said, "Yes, we are sad today, because of death; but it is through death that we get to be with God so don't be sad." It made me think of how odd that must sound to half the people at the funeral and maybe half the people reading this.
We don't get pain and suffering, we hate it; but praise God His Love is as gentle to us as it is odd to us.
God Bless, Jer.
Monday, August 9, 2010
A curse turned into a blessing...
Calvin is just a normal parasite. He has no tricks or gimmicks. He just does what his people do. He started in the salviray gland of an unimpressive and annoying mosquito. She flew so awkardly and kept buzzing around my ears. Calvin didn't mind the buzzing and awkard flying though. He just waited until she landed to feed, and when she did, he made his exit. Calvin seemed to have trained for this and knew exactly where he was going, my healthy liver. Then he just waited there and made tons of babies. The baby Calvins got tired of my liver though. So 10 - 14 days latter they ventured into the rest of my healthy body invading my red blood cells as they went.
It seems my anti-malarials are only good for giving me really amazing dreams. Stopping my nemisis, Calvin, isn't exciting enough, I guess. Nope not my anti-malarials, my anti-malarials neglect their purpose opting for midnight picnics frolicking with dimethyltriptamine instead. I shouldn't put all the blame on my irresponsible anti-malarials though. I, in fact, am partially at fault because I guess I wore the body down weakening my immune system, a perfect environment for my nemisis.
So my nemisis Calvin is the curse. I can't stand him. He is so selfish, as if my liver wasn't big enough for him. He had to invade the rest of my healthy body. What a greedy little squirt! Anyway, Calvin is getting taken care of and the fevers have stopped. No need to worry, all is under control.
To be honest, Calvin's selfish and reckless greed has really turned into a blessing for me. You may ask but how is this so!? Well, what Calvin meant as a curse to me has been a blessing for two reasons. First, I have been able to get some rest! A precious and scarce resource the last few weeks.
Second, I have gotten visitors! This is the part that really touched me, and I really do feel quite blessed. Three co-workers came by yesterday, separately, to see how I was and if I needed anything. One brought his smile and took my cheese. The other brought juice and took a bag of bread, fruit, and gronola. The other took out my trash and a small loan. This gives you glimpse into the culture where everything is shared. I was blessed with their visit and gifts and was happy to bless them with groceries and a loan. Then the sweetest Brazilian couple ever, came by and brought me groceries replenishing my recently deminished supply of groceries. So I had five people come by to see how I was doing, but I didn't broadcast that I was sick. They just figured it out and came by. So as you can imagine, each time I heard a knock at the door, I would scramble to look somewhat presentable thinking it was someone selling fruit or something and to my shock it was someone visiting me! Wow, talk about a nice suprise.
Today, the novelty of my illness seems to have worn off thus I can take advantage of the first blessing, rest; and retain my groceries.
Before I got my visitors yesterday, I got bored of sitting in the house so I stepped outside for a bit to buy credit for my phone. While I was standing on the sidewalk a blue car came screatching to a hault and people were yelling for it to back up. Another car was in the way so I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. When it did back up though, I saw a mother getting up and picking up her little girl from underneath the car! I have absolutely no idea how either of them survived, but they did. What happened next shocked me even more. The man got out of the car and started yelling at the mother and her child, as if they were at fault. He almost killed both of them and he was the one that was mad. I couldn't believe it! A lot of other people gathered around as well and a huge argument insued and a lot of racial tensions became quite obvious.
You see my neighbourhood is not completely Mozambican. A large part of the neighbourhood is made up of 'outsiders', Nigerians, Somalians, Malians, and many others. There is also the rumour that most of these 'outsiders' are running illegal businesses. Most, think it has to do with precious stones or drugs. I have no idea what is true, but one thing I do know, these tensions are quite real, and yesterday I saw it flare up a bit. Thankfully, no body was physically hurt.
I think even Calvin was shocked; because thats when my fever died down. I think the blindness he saw in the driver of the blue car made him consider his own blindness. The driver was in such a hurry that he almost killed a mother and her child, yet he was ready to blame them for the near tragedy. I think Calvin saw this and considered how greedy and selfish he was being. In his desire to take over my blood he was taking my life into his hands and making me very ill. I know Calvin isn't going to change though, so I gotta kill him while he is down with some Coartem.
Here is the lesson of the blog. Gratitude is for endings and faith is for beginnings. Faith has been the last couple of months doing stuff I have never done before. Faith is working through quite a few misunderstandings, where I was at a complete loss in terms of where I had errored and how to make it right. Faith is going ahead though ahead seems scary. Gratitude is being pleasantly shocked with visitors and kindness. Gratitude is the nervous joy of a tragedy evaded. Gratitude is realizing you are the recipient of an undeserved joy.
Gratitude and Faith in what though? For me, you guessed it, Faith In God's existence and Love for me; and Gratitude for both those truths.
Your friend, Jer.
It seems my anti-malarials are only good for giving me really amazing dreams. Stopping my nemisis, Calvin, isn't exciting enough, I guess. Nope not my anti-malarials, my anti-malarials neglect their purpose opting for midnight picnics frolicking with dimethyltriptamine instead. I shouldn't put all the blame on my irresponsible anti-malarials though. I, in fact, am partially at fault because I guess I wore the body down weakening my immune system, a perfect environment for my nemisis.
So my nemisis Calvin is the curse. I can't stand him. He is so selfish, as if my liver wasn't big enough for him. He had to invade the rest of my healthy body. What a greedy little squirt! Anyway, Calvin is getting taken care of and the fevers have stopped. No need to worry, all is under control.
To be honest, Calvin's selfish and reckless greed has really turned into a blessing for me. You may ask but how is this so!? Well, what Calvin meant as a curse to me has been a blessing for two reasons. First, I have been able to get some rest! A precious and scarce resource the last few weeks.
Second, I have gotten visitors! This is the part that really touched me, and I really do feel quite blessed. Three co-workers came by yesterday, separately, to see how I was and if I needed anything. One brought his smile and took my cheese. The other brought juice and took a bag of bread, fruit, and gronola. The other took out my trash and a small loan. This gives you glimpse into the culture where everything is shared. I was blessed with their visit and gifts and was happy to bless them with groceries and a loan. Then the sweetest Brazilian couple ever, came by and brought me groceries replenishing my recently deminished supply of groceries. So I had five people come by to see how I was doing, but I didn't broadcast that I was sick. They just figured it out and came by. So as you can imagine, each time I heard a knock at the door, I would scramble to look somewhat presentable thinking it was someone selling fruit or something and to my shock it was someone visiting me! Wow, talk about a nice suprise.
Today, the novelty of my illness seems to have worn off thus I can take advantage of the first blessing, rest; and retain my groceries.
Before I got my visitors yesterday, I got bored of sitting in the house so I stepped outside for a bit to buy credit for my phone. While I was standing on the sidewalk a blue car came screatching to a hault and people were yelling for it to back up. Another car was in the way so I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. When it did back up though, I saw a mother getting up and picking up her little girl from underneath the car! I have absolutely no idea how either of them survived, but they did. What happened next shocked me even more. The man got out of the car and started yelling at the mother and her child, as if they were at fault. He almost killed both of them and he was the one that was mad. I couldn't believe it! A lot of other people gathered around as well and a huge argument insued and a lot of racial tensions became quite obvious.
You see my neighbourhood is not completely Mozambican. A large part of the neighbourhood is made up of 'outsiders', Nigerians, Somalians, Malians, and many others. There is also the rumour that most of these 'outsiders' are running illegal businesses. Most, think it has to do with precious stones or drugs. I have no idea what is true, but one thing I do know, these tensions are quite real, and yesterday I saw it flare up a bit. Thankfully, no body was physically hurt.
I think even Calvin was shocked; because thats when my fever died down. I think the blindness he saw in the driver of the blue car made him consider his own blindness. The driver was in such a hurry that he almost killed a mother and her child, yet he was ready to blame them for the near tragedy. I think Calvin saw this and considered how greedy and selfish he was being. In his desire to take over my blood he was taking my life into his hands and making me very ill. I know Calvin isn't going to change though, so I gotta kill him while he is down with some Coartem.
Here is the lesson of the blog. Gratitude is for endings and faith is for beginnings. Faith has been the last couple of months doing stuff I have never done before. Faith is working through quite a few misunderstandings, where I was at a complete loss in terms of where I had errored and how to make it right. Faith is going ahead though ahead seems scary. Gratitude is being pleasantly shocked with visitors and kindness. Gratitude is the nervous joy of a tragedy evaded. Gratitude is realizing you are the recipient of an undeserved joy.
Gratitude and Faith in what though? For me, you guessed it, Faith In God's existence and Love for me; and Gratitude for both those truths.
Your friend, Jer.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
66 days in...
My last blog is just a short snapshot of my worldview. Worldview can be described as the story we live by. Some of us live by many stories and flip back and forth between stories depending on what is most convenient or comfortable at the time. Unfortunately, I am among the first of those who switch stories when the going gets tough. Thankfully though, when we are honest with ourselves we can realize our own idiosyncracies and grow past our immaturities.
In this blog, I hope to give you a snapshot of my more day to day hands on experience.
So since my last blogg here is what has happened in terms of work. Me and my collegue travelled to Pemba, a city about 6 hours north of Nampula for two weeks. The mission of this trip was to make as many contacts as possible in this city as this is where a new microfinance office will open up in January, a daunting task. Basically, the task is to start a microfinance institution from the ground up. So we met with as many people as we could ranging from potential founders to the Governor of Cabo Delgado, the province. The rest of the time was made up of looking for a potential office, opening an account, and a billion other tasks. Then the next two weeks were made up of organizing a board visit and accompanying and translating for the board members. This entailed a lot of traveling, presentations, visiting beneficiaries, and making sure the monitoring visit ran smoothly.
So those are the activities of the last month or so. It may sound interesting to some of you and it may not. Whatever the case, for me, it was a huge opportunity and extremely stretching. I think a good summary of my work experience so far is that I have been meddling with responsibilities that I have no business meddling with. I am probably exagerating, but it certainly doesn't seem like it. My organization is as small as it gets thus I can't just sit back and watch. Here in mozambique there are only two of us my supervisor and me, and in Canada there are only two people. This is pretty cool cuz I get to learn a lot, but it also seems like we are short staffed all the time. Needless to say, it has been a busy month and according to the workplans I am bound to lose my mind before long.
Oops, crap! I gotta pack. I will have to finish this blog later. I am on the road again tomorrow to Nacala. Their operating system went down so my mission is to get it back up running again. See what I mean!? I have no business trying to fix a microfinance cooperative's operating system. I need Conor's techinical abilities, oh Conor please come visit, Mozambique is the most Latin American African country there is, you would love it.
.
In this blog, I hope to give you a snapshot of my more day to day hands on experience.
So since my last blogg here is what has happened in terms of work. Me and my collegue travelled to Pemba, a city about 6 hours north of Nampula for two weeks. The mission of this trip was to make as many contacts as possible in this city as this is where a new microfinance office will open up in January, a daunting task. Basically, the task is to start a microfinance institution from the ground up. So we met with as many people as we could ranging from potential founders to the Governor of Cabo Delgado, the province. The rest of the time was made up of looking for a potential office, opening an account, and a billion other tasks. Then the next two weeks were made up of organizing a board visit and accompanying and translating for the board members. This entailed a lot of traveling, presentations, visiting beneficiaries, and making sure the monitoring visit ran smoothly.
So those are the activities of the last month or so. It may sound interesting to some of you and it may not. Whatever the case, for me, it was a huge opportunity and extremely stretching. I think a good summary of my work experience so far is that I have been meddling with responsibilities that I have no business meddling with. I am probably exagerating, but it certainly doesn't seem like it. My organization is as small as it gets thus I can't just sit back and watch. Here in mozambique there are only two of us my supervisor and me, and in Canada there are only two people. This is pretty cool cuz I get to learn a lot, but it also seems like we are short staffed all the time. Needless to say, it has been a busy month and according to the workplans I am bound to lose my mind before long.
Oops, crap! I gotta pack. I will have to finish this blog later. I am on the road again tomorrow to Nacala. Their operating system went down so my mission is to get it back up running again. See what I mean!? I have no business trying to fix a microfinance cooperative's operating system. I need Conor's techinical abilities, oh Conor please come visit, Mozambique is the most Latin American African country there is, you would love it.
.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
38 days in...
It seems I write with less frequency as the time goes on. Sorry about that, my friends! This is mostly the case because I wasn't sure if anyone really read this blogg. However, I was encouraged by my good friend Brian Woo to give an update. Thus here is a little update.
In terms of the last challenge I wrote about (being tired because I was searching for commonalities with my friends and co-workers) well, it seems this has grown into a different challenge. I am beginning to understand the most basic yet incredibly tranformative truth. It is the fact that we are all created by God for God. Before you tune out, just let me explain, as best I can, a little bit further. There are two parts to this statement.
First, there is the claim that we are created by God. You can choose to believe this or you can choose not to. I have chosen to believe this, because it just makes sense to me. In seeing the balanced complexity of our world, I can not choose to believe that it all just kinda happened. There is a verse in the Bible that says, "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities - His eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." Ok, if this verse is true, then I, Jeremy, have even less excuse then the people talked about in the verse. That is, yes, it seems to make sense that God exists when I considered the physical world's incredible qualities, but beyond this, EVERY SINGLE time I have called out to God wanting to know who He is, He has answered. I have never heard an audilble voice from God, but the still quiet voice I hear in my heart saying, "Jeremy, I Love you" makes me beleive He not only exists but he cares about me.
This brings me to the second part, "we are all created for God." This is the part where it gets even more personal,but this is the part I struggle with as well. Nevertheless, dare with me, to explore further. Continuing on, there is another part in the Bible that says, "Know that the Lord is God. It is He who made us, and we are His; we are His people, the sheep of His pasture." If it is true that I, Jeremy, was actually created FOR God then it follows that by ignoring God I am not fulfilling my purpose. I can personally testify what the consequence is of ignoring one's purpose. The consequence is emptiness. My dad always says, 'we have a God-sized-vacuum in our hearts'. What he means by this is that there is a part of us, a deep part, that desires nothing less then to know God.
It seems though that I, along with many in my generation, desire to fill, said God-sized-vacuum, with everything but God. Often these things are not bad in themselves, but they are not God. I will be honest here and tell you my two biggest substitutes for God. The first is accomplishment. I love making accomplishments in every area of my life: work, school, sports, everything. However, accomplishment is dwarfed in comparison with my second substitute, acceptance. I absolutely LOVE acceptance! In fact, I would dare to guess that my desire for accomplishment is probably driven by my desire for acceptance. What I mean by acceptance, is that I love it when people accept me as a friend. Who doesn't!? I would venture to guess very few, although some opt to be feared by people instead, it is safer. Others would rather be respected and highly-esteemed. Whether it is acceptance, accomplishment, fear, or respect, all of us have a deep desire that motivates just about everything we do.
I had a hunch mine was my desire for acceptance, and I believe my last blogg confirms this hunch. It is so good to know what I am substituting in place of my God. I started by saying it was a basic yet incredibly transformative truth. Well it is basic because the first part is concerned with our origin. We all have to answer this question. We all must explore the origin of humanity before we can navigate our own journey. It is a tranformative truth; because by default we choose to ignore our origins leaving us thinking that we exist for ourselves. Thus when I come to acknowledge that I, Jeremy, was created by God for God my life is transformed.
None of the above, really has anything to do with my being in Moçambique on placement. Nevertheless, through my time here I have been afforded the opportunity to be stretched. I am not alone in this, today we have all been afforded the opportunity to be stretched just a little bit. For me, it is a VERY tiny bit, I guess I am slow learner. Nonetheless, wherever you are and whatever your circumstance is consider your orgin and your purpose.
Do they have the rigor to sustain you on this journey?
Your friend, Jer.
In terms of the last challenge I wrote about (being tired because I was searching for commonalities with my friends and co-workers) well, it seems this has grown into a different challenge. I am beginning to understand the most basic yet incredibly tranformative truth. It is the fact that we are all created by God for God. Before you tune out, just let me explain, as best I can, a little bit further. There are two parts to this statement.
First, there is the claim that we are created by God. You can choose to believe this or you can choose not to. I have chosen to believe this, because it just makes sense to me. In seeing the balanced complexity of our world, I can not choose to believe that it all just kinda happened. There is a verse in the Bible that says, "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities - His eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." Ok, if this verse is true, then I, Jeremy, have even less excuse then the people talked about in the verse. That is, yes, it seems to make sense that God exists when I considered the physical world's incredible qualities, but beyond this, EVERY SINGLE time I have called out to God wanting to know who He is, He has answered. I have never heard an audilble voice from God, but the still quiet voice I hear in my heart saying, "Jeremy, I Love you" makes me beleive He not only exists but he cares about me.
This brings me to the second part, "we are all created for God." This is the part where it gets even more personal,but this is the part I struggle with as well. Nevertheless, dare with me, to explore further. Continuing on, there is another part in the Bible that says, "Know that the Lord is God. It is He who made us, and we are His; we are His people, the sheep of His pasture." If it is true that I, Jeremy, was actually created FOR God then it follows that by ignoring God I am not fulfilling my purpose. I can personally testify what the consequence is of ignoring one's purpose. The consequence is emptiness. My dad always says, 'we have a God-sized-vacuum in our hearts'. What he means by this is that there is a part of us, a deep part, that desires nothing less then to know God.
It seems though that I, along with many in my generation, desire to fill, said God-sized-vacuum, with everything but God. Often these things are not bad in themselves, but they are not God. I will be honest here and tell you my two biggest substitutes for God. The first is accomplishment. I love making accomplishments in every area of my life: work, school, sports, everything. However, accomplishment is dwarfed in comparison with my second substitute, acceptance. I absolutely LOVE acceptance! In fact, I would dare to guess that my desire for accomplishment is probably driven by my desire for acceptance. What I mean by acceptance, is that I love it when people accept me as a friend. Who doesn't!? I would venture to guess very few, although some opt to be feared by people instead, it is safer. Others would rather be respected and highly-esteemed. Whether it is acceptance, accomplishment, fear, or respect, all of us have a deep desire that motivates just about everything we do.
I had a hunch mine was my desire for acceptance, and I believe my last blogg confirms this hunch. It is so good to know what I am substituting in place of my God. I started by saying it was a basic yet incredibly transformative truth. Well it is basic because the first part is concerned with our origin. We all have to answer this question. We all must explore the origin of humanity before we can navigate our own journey. It is a tranformative truth; because by default we choose to ignore our origins leaving us thinking that we exist for ourselves. Thus when I come to acknowledge that I, Jeremy, was created by God for God my life is transformed.
None of the above, really has anything to do with my being in Moçambique on placement. Nevertheless, through my time here I have been afforded the opportunity to be stretched. I am not alone in this, today we have all been afforded the opportunity to be stretched just a little bit. For me, it is a VERY tiny bit, I guess I am slow learner. Nonetheless, wherever you are and whatever your circumstance is consider your orgin and your purpose.
Do they have the rigor to sustain you on this journey?
Your friend, Jer.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Two weeks in...
It seems I have misnamed my blog. I don't say this to mean that I haven't been trying, but this blog may not always detail all my efforts. Rather, I want to simply convey some meager thoughts.
So my first thought is "I am tired". Its been about two weeks now, since I've been in Mozambique, yet it seems like its been soo much longer. I don't know if this a good thing or a bad thing. Either way though, I think this feeling is due to the fact that it has been a very busy two weeks! The past week, I was in a different city, Nacala-Porto; because the Caixa (microcredit cooperative) just started giving loans on Monday. I learned a lot of the ground work along with the other staff of Nacala, as much of the information and duties are new to them as well. During this time we worked 10-12 hours a day, and we (me and two of the other staff from Nampula) were staying in a hotel nearby. So part of this exhaustion is due to the work, and the other part is due to the 'people-thing'.
I should define 'people-thing' before I move on. First, it refers to the fact that there are people everywhere. In fact, there are so many people that one person, in one lifetime could not possibly come into contact with all of the people that exist on this planet. There are just to many of them. Second, it refers to the existential reality that an individual with a semi-friendly disposition can come into contact with a people if he so chooses. Third, upon contact with this people, one has much in common right from the outset; for he himself is a people as well!
You are probably asking yourself, why then is Jeremy tired!? Excellent question, reader! Herein lies the problem, this commonality does not have the rigor to sustain a conversation, let alone a friendship. It seems one needs to have more in common then being a people, right? In my mind I had always thought of it like this: liking the same things makes friends; laughing at the same things makes good friends; and caring about the same things makes great friends. Well, what if everything about you, the people, is different!? (Excuse my excess use of the word 'people' but I think its funny). What if, in fact, the only commonality is that you are a people.
I have found out this past week, that I have not gotten very far from this foundational commonality with most of my aquaintances. Actually, I have a funny story that is somewhat relevant. On our way to Nacala I had a conversation with a co-worker. We went by chapa, basically a van with 30 people in it! Anyway I asked my co-worker if it was necessary to be clean shaven for work. She told me, "Yes, it would be wise to be clean shaven" Then she looked at my arms and said, "You should probably do something about your arm hair, as well." Now, it is the running joke that I am half Muzungo (white) and half monkey. She is not the first to make this observation or crack a joke about my hairy arms, so it does not hurt my feelings. I find the only way to have fun when you are the blunt of the joke is to join in and make fun of yourself as well. Thus I faithfully refer to myself as the Muzungo-Monkey.
Actually, as I think about it, I feel like a Muzungo-Monkey. Nevertheless, I am in fact, a people and this is my foundation and it has only been two weeks. I just find that building the foundation is quite hard work, yet the results are quite unimpressive. It seems with just about all of my aquaintances, there is an 'odd misunderstanding' everyday that tells me I am very different. I say 'odd misunderstanding' because I can't tell if I am being misunderstood or if I am not understanding the others. I am at a loss on quite a lot of things sending me searching for answers. This searching, is very tiring, thus we are back to the origin of my first thought, 'I am tired'.
All the Best, your friend, Jer.
So my first thought is "I am tired". Its been about two weeks now, since I've been in Mozambique, yet it seems like its been soo much longer. I don't know if this a good thing or a bad thing. Either way though, I think this feeling is due to the fact that it has been a very busy two weeks! The past week, I was in a different city, Nacala-Porto; because the Caixa (microcredit cooperative) just started giving loans on Monday. I learned a lot of the ground work along with the other staff of Nacala, as much of the information and duties are new to them as well. During this time we worked 10-12 hours a day, and we (me and two of the other staff from Nampula) were staying in a hotel nearby. So part of this exhaustion is due to the work, and the other part is due to the 'people-thing'.
I should define 'people-thing' before I move on. First, it refers to the fact that there are people everywhere. In fact, there are so many people that one person, in one lifetime could not possibly come into contact with all of the people that exist on this planet. There are just to many of them. Second, it refers to the existential reality that an individual with a semi-friendly disposition can come into contact with a people if he so chooses. Third, upon contact with this people, one has much in common right from the outset; for he himself is a people as well!
You are probably asking yourself, why then is Jeremy tired!? Excellent question, reader! Herein lies the problem, this commonality does not have the rigor to sustain a conversation, let alone a friendship. It seems one needs to have more in common then being a people, right? In my mind I had always thought of it like this: liking the same things makes friends; laughing at the same things makes good friends; and caring about the same things makes great friends. Well, what if everything about you, the people, is different!? (Excuse my excess use of the word 'people' but I think its funny). What if, in fact, the only commonality is that you are a people.
I have found out this past week, that I have not gotten very far from this foundational commonality with most of my aquaintances. Actually, I have a funny story that is somewhat relevant. On our way to Nacala I had a conversation with a co-worker. We went by chapa, basically a van with 30 people in it! Anyway I asked my co-worker if it was necessary to be clean shaven for work. She told me, "Yes, it would be wise to be clean shaven" Then she looked at my arms and said, "You should probably do something about your arm hair, as well." Now, it is the running joke that I am half Muzungo (white) and half monkey. She is not the first to make this observation or crack a joke about my hairy arms, so it does not hurt my feelings. I find the only way to have fun when you are the blunt of the joke is to join in and make fun of yourself as well. Thus I faithfully refer to myself as the Muzungo-Monkey.
Actually, as I think about it, I feel like a Muzungo-Monkey. Nevertheless, I am in fact, a people and this is my foundation and it has only been two weeks. I just find that building the foundation is quite hard work, yet the results are quite unimpressive. It seems with just about all of my aquaintances, there is an 'odd misunderstanding' everyday that tells me I am very different. I say 'odd misunderstanding' because I can't tell if I am being misunderstood or if I am not understanding the others. I am at a loss on quite a lot of things sending me searching for answers. This searching, is very tiring, thus we are back to the origin of my first thought, 'I am tired'.
All the Best, your friend, Jer.
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