words cannot describe what i've seen.
when you are standing in the middle of a 1 room house with dirt floors and 1 bed starring outside at the chickens and the fire pit, you don't feel sad. your heart doesn't ache and you don't cry. The people who live here have a strength like nothing we know of. call it being naive, call it un-intelligence, call it what you want - but these people i have met have found something like happiness.
the dirt surrounding them and blowing consistently in their faces doesn't bother them. everyday, they walk straight through and play with the frequently placed, and public trash dumps. the smell of burning trash, grilled corn and non-hygienic neighbors doesn't make them blink. days pass and they eat porridge. living off of $50 a month doesn't kill them.
it is only when you listen to these tales of the strong... and only when the pride is set aside, that the anguish and pain is spoken- that is when you, yourself break.
you are left speechless...
you don't understand.
you can't apologize...
and you can't provide them anything to soften the pain and resolve their problems.
if you feed one, you realize - their abusive parent is HIV positive and they can no longer afford the schooling where they received the food.
if you paint the schools, you are reminded they still can't afford books or teachers to teach the students who fill the blue room.
if you buy pencils - you remember that even if they do finish primary school, pass the test into secondary school, are able to pay and complete "high school" - their options are still slim to none that they will conquer poverty.
these are some of the tales of strong.
if you don't cry after hearing these... you wait.
wait until you hear the primary class singing together about the bumble bees, the church choir praising the Lord for all their gifts of strength, for the pure excitement and honor the women show after telling them they and their children are beautiful.
this is when you cry.
there is so much to give.
so much to teach.
so much work to be done.
and yet... we too have so much to learn from these people who "have not".
when you are standing in the middle of a 1 room house with dirt floors and 1 bed starring outside at the chickens and the fire pit, you don't feel sad. your heart doesn't ache and you don't cry. The people who live here have a strength like nothing we know of. call it being naive, call it un-intelligence, call it what you want - but these people i have met have found something like happiness.
the dirt surrounding them and blowing consistently in their faces doesn't bother them. everyday, they walk straight through and play with the frequently placed, and public trash dumps. the smell of burning trash, grilled corn and non-hygienic neighbors doesn't make them blink. days pass and they eat porridge. living off of $50 a month doesn't kill them.
it is only when you listen to these tales of the strong... and only when the pride is set aside, that the anguish and pain is spoken- that is when you, yourself break.
you are left speechless...
you don't understand.
you can't apologize...
and you can't provide them anything to soften the pain and resolve their problems.
if you feed one, you realize - their abusive parent is HIV positive and they can no longer afford the schooling where they received the food.
if you paint the schools, you are reminded they still can't afford books or teachers to teach the students who fill the blue room.
if you buy pencils - you remember that even if they do finish primary school, pass the test into secondary school, are able to pay and complete "high school" - their options are still slim to none that they will conquer poverty.
these are some of the tales of strong.
if you don't cry after hearing these... you wait.
wait until you hear the primary class singing together about the bumble bees, the church choir praising the Lord for all their gifts of strength, for the pure excitement and honor the women show after telling them they and their children are beautiful.
this is when you cry.
there is so much to give.
so much to teach.
so much work to be done.
and yet... we too have so much to learn from these people who "have not".
Holy cow Jess. Deep. I can relate, reminds me of my time in Peru with similar scenes.
ReplyDeleteGreat observations Jess -- we are seeing Tanzania through your eyes - your words are so descriptive. Photos? Love you, Dad.
ReplyDelete