Allow me to try this again

I take the words that I write very seriously, I always have. When I take the time to write you a note or send you a letter to express my feelings, you can be sure it is how I truly feel, and I don't intend for it to be taken lightly. Therefore, it is difficult for me to put my toughts, feelings, and opinions on a public website where I know it is accessible to the entire world to scrutinize. I generally keep those kinds of thoughts and feelings tucked away for my own personal reflection, or I share them on a very personal basis with someone I trust. If you had a chance to read my original blog from Thursday in which I did, in a moment of anger, express myself less eloquently than I would have liked, please take it for what it was worth, but please continue reading as I will try to express those feelings again, hopefully a little differently this time. But I'm still not promising I won't offend you.
Here's what I wanted to say:
As young adults, we often dream about the day when we will be able to save the world. We see a world that is broken, hurting, thirsty, and hungry. A world that is yearning for something more. We see pain and suffering, and we often feel a desire or need to fix it. In the depths of our hearts, we dare to dream that we might be the one who will change the reality of such a harsh life and turn an unfair world into an ideal one. Though most of us throughout our lives eventually come to the realization that we cannot, even in our most valiant efforts, save the world from all the evil in it, it has been my experience here in Africa that there are still some individuals who find it their intention to do just that.
In one month here, I have met individuals from the U.S., Canada, Bolivia, Italy, Germany, Finland, Scotland, Korea, Mexico, Nigeria, Uganda, and of course Tanzania. Everyone of them has come because they think that they have something worthwhile to offer this country and will attempt to help better the lives of others (I applaud them for their willingness to try, and I myself hope to return one day to do the same). Though some of them have accepted the reality that in all of their greatest attempts, they cannot actually save the world from hunger, pain, or suffering, there remain some who have yet to discover the flaw in thinking that it is still possible to do just that. They have not yet come to realize the reality of a third world country: that it has, does, and will continue to exist for a reason. Too many come with a five year commitment to an organization which may be working to do any number of things, and they hope that by the end of their time here that Africa will be a different place. They come to receive immediate gratification from their valiant efforts, but are quickly disappointed when they don't find it. Many give up early, packing their bags to head home early. The harshness of this environment isn't for everyone and the reality of what it means to 'help' isn't what most people anticipate. Working in Africa takes patients. It requires you to trust, trust that your efforts to improve even just one persons life for a very short period of time was worth the effort.
What I don't understand the most is that many of the people that come here to help think that the solution to the problem is to bring our culture to them: to bring them our clothes, our money, our food, and really just our way of life (I have to chuckle when you're driving down the road and see someone in a purple and teal jacket that looks like it walked out of the 1980's). We fail to realize as Westerners, that our way of life isn't all that practical here, nor is it the Best way to do everything! It is too often the mindset of people that if we can just westernize the third world culture, then all of their problems will disappear. With that said, one of my greatest challenges during my time here as been watching others try to adapt (or in many cases, refusing to adapt) to this culture. I am saddened that so many of them are so quick to judge it and to dismiss it as something less than their own when they haven't even stopped to think about what could be gained by experiencing this culture with an open mind. For example, this weekend, we went to a village where nearly all of the cattle had just previously been stolen by its own 'government'. (Now that is truly sad). But in the midst of this, a group of 9 of us went on Sunday to a service and before the service they gave us Chai, fried bread, bottled water, and bottled soda (things that they would rarely consume themselves). During the offering, money, soap, cloth, 8 chickens, and 7 goats (well, one was really fuzzy and cute and I decided to buy it; then Josh informed me that it was fuzzy because it had wool. Eventually I put two and two together and got "Sheep!", but it certainly acted like a goat...) anyway, they were put into the offering. This is coming from a people who just had their very livelihoods stolen right out from under them by their own government. Then after the service, they fed us all enormous plates of rice, goat liver, goat meet, and bottled soda again. Now there is something that can be learned from a this culture: Hospitatily.
Don't get me wrong, not all of Africa is this friendly nor should spending a lifetime here be some romanticized dream. Like I said in my last blog, it's not uncommon by any means to see a car or truck tipped over on the side of the road and the witnesses rushing to the seen to collect anything they can get their hands on that will be useful for eating or selling, while the victims are left to fend for themselves. And Africa is not a place where a person living in a home with four walls and running water would hesitate to steal the donated bag of corn meal from his neighbor who doesn't even have a roof over his head. It truly is survival of the fittest here. And like I said before, there isn't a concern, a dream, or hope about tomorrow because it is all about surviving today. When there is food to be had, it's not savored and saved for tomorrow because there might not be a tomorrow. Everything is used right now, today. The trees are cut down for firewood today because preserving their beauty for future generations would be unheard of when there are needs to be met and money to be had today. Worrying about dying of AIDS is far from the mind of anyone who has AIDS because they are more concerned about their family eating and finding water for today!
We must not forget, however, that the reality of Africa is in many ways not that far from the rest of the world: people are hungry, people are thirsty, people are suffering, dying, and crying out for help no matter which country in this world you step into. People are self-seeking and always looking out for their own well-being before that of others. It's human nature: survival. But too few people ever stop to hear the cry of the poor and broken-hearted. Or if they do, they give just enough of themselves to make it disappear for a while or shove some money at it and walk away. I don't want to downplay the role or value of money in aiding the poor or the homeless, nor the value of the role that a person can play through their generosity. I'm certainly not saying that every person needs to pick up their things and move to Africa and live in a hut in order to do their part. But without stepping out of your own world (I mean the conveniences of food, shelter, and entertainment we almost all experience on a daily basis) and experiencing the reality of poverty, without stepping into their world, and without experiencing tears that for the first time role down your cheek because of someone else's suffering and someone else's hunger, it is nearly impossible to understand their pain. And without understanding, there can not exist true compassion.
I'm going to go out on a limb here one more time. I'm going to write here some of what I have written in my journal over the past few weeks, so these are my thoughts and my beliefs coming out. I ask you not to look at them so much from a political view as from a sense of my own frustration. I don't say them to condemn you if you disagree; rather, to make you ask your own questions. Much of my journaling has resulted from several conversations between Audrey and I. Audrey is a self-proclaimed atheist, but she and I have developed a very good relationship and she has shown me a lot about love, compassion, and understanding. She has taught me to love people who are different from me: different in belief, different in values, different in lifestyles and choices. She has taught me to listen, not just to wait for my turn to speak, but to really listen and more importantly to understand. She has shared her tears of compassion with me, and I with her. She has absolutely no idea that she has taught me all this, and it wasn't her goal to teach me this, it just happened through normal interaction. Nor does she know that she has caused me to think so much about the way I express my faith through words and action. Please know that as I wrote this, tears were falling from my eyes because my heart is broken for this place, but equally as much, my heart is breaking for other reasons too. You will understand what I mean soon. This is what came out of me as I attempted to see my own experiences as well as her experiences of Christianity from a different light. From my journal: "I'm so very saddened that when someone asks me if I'm a Christian, I reply, 'yes', and then impulsively feel the need to follow it up with some sort disclaimer about how I don't really think that Christianity as it is practiced today is what God inteded it to be. How can it be that some of the greatest lessons I have learned throughout my life about love and compassion, I have learned from self-pronounced atheists or agnostics (and not just Audrey)?. How can it be that it's equally as difficult or more difficult to find a believer who cares about humanity as it is to find a non-believer who embraces humanity? How can it be that we can have million dollar mega-churches, yet homeless people living just down the street with no place to lay their head at night and no food to put in their mouths? How can it be that it is the belief of many that we can deny the woman a choice of abortion and then judge her for her choices in life, yet be so slow to take her into our home and show her love and compassion? How can it be that when a non-Christian is asked what they think it means to be a Christian that they are more likely to respond 'hypocrite' than 'lover'? How can it be that I have spent the last eight years of my life trying to figure out what God really demands of his followers because I know that I have not yet reached it? How can it be that the only times I can recall doubting my faith or questioning the existance of God, that it was because of the actions of a fellow Christian?" Let me explain these questions a little more, as I know I have just hit some of you wrong. Just last week, we had a group of men here from Oklahoma, very sweet old men, but in my conversations with them, they were going on and on about their Mega-church that had 7,500 members. As they talked, all that kept going through my mind is how it can be that their exists so many churches with 7,500, or 10,000 or more people in attendance each Sunday in million-dollar buildings, yet their are still homeless people in everyone of those cities.
Maybe this will sum up my feelings. In a book I read while backe by Shane Claiborne called "The Irresistable Revolution," Shane recalls a comic strip in which one guy says to the other, " 'I want to ask God why he allows all of this poverty and war and suffering to exist in the world.' And his friend says, 'Well, why don't you ask?' The fellow shakes his head and says he is scared. When his friend asks why he mutters, 'I'm scared God will ask me the same question.' " (pg. 64-65). I know that I too am afraid to ask God that same question because I know what God's response would be to me.
I guess I can't help but to be a bit political right now. But this is a pretty huge reality check for someone who has been allowed to spend most of their existance separated from the pain and suffering that some people experience as a way of life, both here and back home. It's too easy to shut it out of your mind when you're surrounded by people driving nice cars and living in nice homes and when the conveniences of life are at your fingertips. And it's even more emotional when you know that there is so little hope of ever bringing about any sort of permanant change for any of them. Nor does it help when you realize that people whom feel no obligation to God or a higher being to love humanity or demand justice in this world are still better at it than I who claims belief in a God who's very existance demands justice, love, and humility.
I promise I will leave this one for you to read, even if I'm scared you won't like it. Their will be no taking back what I have said, at least not in the sense of removing it. I will certainly continue to re-evaluate and examine my feelings as I don't believe that there is any other way to live. So be angry if you will, but John reminded me that this is a public journal to share my experiences with as much feeling and emotion as I desire. He's right! This is my experience and this is a public journal which you can choose whether or not to read, so if you don't like what I have to say or what I am observing and feeling, feel free to tune me out. I won't be hurt. And feel free to leave a comment if you wish. I wouldn't really be evaluating anything if I only listen to the thoughts in my own head. I'm inviting you to take part in my experience, whether it be positive or negative feedback. I may regret saying that, but I'll take my chances.