Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Eternity at heart



As a thanks for my 27 month peace corps service, I get a plane ticket home-- or reimbursement for one-- and some “readjustment” money. But no real pressure to go home. As a result, I am free to just stay here-- or drift slowly back. I am doing the latter through Ethiopia, Egypt, and Jordan, with a fellow volunteer.
In each place-- from the 1000 year old rock hewn churches in Lalibella, Ethiopia, to the glorieous mummies and burial chambers in Luxor, Egypt, we hang between awesome structures, knick knack vendors, and petty thieves.
I just finished 2 years of modern 3rd world living. Hand washing, baking over an open fire, sweeping with straws, using an outhouse, sleeping in mud and thatch structures, and bathing with a bucket. The people who built the rock hewn churches of Ethiopia and the great temples and palaces of Egypt, however, didn't even have the plastic jerry cans, buckets, soap, or latrines that I did. Here were people for whom life hung between rainy seasons, fending off wild animals, and mysterious disease-- for whom survival required constant work-- and they were focused on the hereafter. They wanted to connect with their maker, and leave something behind for their descendants. As a result, they made beautiful, intricate, spiritual tombs, churches, and temples.
At the same places, there are people who make their livings off of overpriced papyrus, buggy rides, or cold injera (Ethiopian staple) and lentils. How about grave robbers, pocket thieves, or kidnappers? How could these great historic civilizations, hewing granite and carving intricate hieroglyphics, produce such? Standing next to these grand achievements, moreover, how do shopkeepers feel as they sell junk that no one wants?
I know that in their own ways, the shopkeepers are building their lives, etc, but I would rather be a Queen Nefertari than a fake papyrus vendor.
As I see 30% unemployment on magazines in airports, and wonder about my prospects at home, I must remember this lesson. I do not want to sink into survival mode, but instead, to keep my eye on the ultimate prize; to keep eternity at heart.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Coming Out

Coming out of foothills
Glance behind
Majesty
Now, strain
all I see
air
I am where?

Last Day

I was in the pyramids, looking at mummies with missing noses-- someone told me they were WWII soldiers – and elephants were running around “Sarah, do you still want to go running? it is 6:20!” “Where am I?” Oh yeah, the village-- starting my last day. My friend, Leah and I pulled ourselves together for jogging. On the road, a group of elementary boys laughing and shouting “muzungu” got a run for their money. I chased them down and told them I was going to eat them. Last night, when a kid asked me for money, I grabbed him by the shirt, pulled his dirty little face up to mine and explained-- in the local language-- why that was a very bad idea. Further down the road, a group of women smiled and genuinely seemed happy to see us-- nice to see women brave enough to run.
We got home and took our bucket baths-- I can bathe, wash and condition my hair, and scrub the calluses off of my feet with 3 liters of water! Over our oatmeal, peanut butter, and honey breakfast, we talked about kashi and raisin bran-- ahhhhh-- made me so hungry I ate a second bowl. I then wondered what I would do today. Would I visit a village savings group this morning? Would I do monitoring in the afternoon? It was already 9:30, so the man I was supposed to meet at 8 was not yet there. Every day really is the same. As I stood on the front porch, wondering what to do, a group of students carried a screaming, quivering student by. “She has demons-- as usual” they reported.
Within a few hours, the demons were out and by three (yes, 7 hours late), I was in the village, doing a Typhoid talk. In the between, however, some people surprised me with gifts of fabric (even though my goodbye party is over) and I had a nice talk with a friend. It never changes!

Growth

Jokes aside, there are a few good things that I learned in Uganda, which frame new commitments in life. I hope that these changes for the positive will not be reversed when I hit home.

1. Natural lifestyle. I can make bread and cakes from flour and sugar, cheese from a cow, and guacamole of about 3 varieties. When I went home for David's wedding, I could taste the fake and the corn syrup in frozen pizza and a dairy queen blizzard. When I tried eating a cinnamon bun, the sweetness made me sick. It may require more creativity and time, but I want to stay as natural as possible.
2. Environmental sustainability. Living so close to the Earth and depending on nature for everything. Like, hmmmm, should I wash my clothes? It hasn't rained, so there is no water-- or it's raining now so they won't dry. Or, the school closed early because the crops dried up and there wasn't enough food. These are everyday occurrences. I want to maintain a commitment to sustainable decision making when I get home-- especially with water and fuel (after my first long shower to wash off the grime and riding a plane home, that is). I don't need to live in a big place and I hope to take public transport and have a natural foods option. Furthermore, I love what Mayor Nutter is doing with green surfaces in Philly and what new LEED housing ideas are doing. Who knows, by the time I need a car, I might drive hydrogen- powered.
3. Deeper spiritual connections. I have been introduced to a whole new world of spirituality with Catholicism. Nouwen, Merton, St. Francis-- solitude and deeper prayer. The nuns are so hard working and happy and kind because time in prayer is their mainstay. Poverty, celibacy, and obedience-- basically denial of all that humanity craves. What do they gain? A lot of joy, for one thing, and more care for other people.
4. Human color and diversity. The Peace Corps is so diverse and colorful, it adds a great mosaic backdrop to my life. I want to continue being a part of an interesting community of people at home, whether in a city neighborhood or a small town.
5. Not worry about being “late” for something in life. I met a priest who started first grade at 17 and was ordained in his late thirties. Several people, due to family delays, etc., don't do things at the exactly correct time here. But who cares? You can't let past problems ruin you because you're afraid of a bit of delay. Besides, life is about the journey, so enjoy the scenic route!
6. Realize that every post is equal, but you have to make it your own. Some peace corps volunteers work in high powered offices and have apartments in town with running water. Ok, not in Uganda, but I'm sure it happens somewhere. Others are deep in the village, making stoves out of cow dung and baking their own bread or living on cassava flour. In the end, both are valuable and meaningful. I am returning home with an idea of a post- bac then med. School, so I have a plan. But if there are some kinks in the road, I can still have meaning in life. Plan B is bee- keeping and surrogate motherhood and Plan C. is returning to Uganda and becoming a wedding singer. So- no worries, right?
7. Commitment to the team. I did not expect other volunteers to be so wonderful, but they have been a big part of why Peace Corps is great. Sharing beer and goat's meat, jamming to local tunes, or climbing in the hills, time with my fellow peace corps volunteers, no matter how different we are from each other, has been extraordinary. When I return, I want to keep up with friends and continue in the spirit of camaraderie with my new team mates—ok, minus the goat meat.