I got a mosquito bite....

Crocodile River at Sunset

It's funny. 

I always go on mission trips expecting to have huge lightning bolt revelations or major changes to my views, but it's always the subtle things that stay with me. 

The title of this post, "I got a mosquito bite" is just one example of a small thing that has stayed with me.  But let me go back.

While we were in South Africa, we were informed that there was an unseasonable outbreak of Malaria - in an area we'd all been told there would be none.  Hardly anyone on the team had taken any anti-malaria pills (because there wasn't supposed to be any).  The team medicined up, and I took my chances, since I only had a few days left in the country.

But even in those few days, I lived in a constant state of edginess.  Every time I heard a buzzing or saw a mosquito, I'd get a little paranoid and try to kill it, or duck into my sheets a little more deeply.

And it got me thinking - this is a way of life for a lot of people. 

I flew into DC on the night of the fourth of July.  It was a glorious evening with a spectacular sunset and temperatures right around 75.  As close to perfect as it can get.  And somewhere between the airport and my car, I got a mosquito bite.  I didn't even realize it until I noticed that my leg was intensely itchy.  But it stopped me for a moment.  That simple thing - one mosquito bite, can cause so much illness to people who can't afford the medicines that seemed expensive even to us (a Malarone pill can cost $5 USD per day - over a month for the team it was close to $150 per person).  This is more money than some of the people we served will see in a year.

Sobering.

Another instance that has stuck with me  is the amount of time it takes to do anything.  For example, each morning, we would pull into the VBS sites to prepare for a day of running around with kids and general mayhem.  But I would always dread stepping out of the Land Rover because inevitably a billowing cloud of smoke would be descending onto our playing fields/parking area.  This cloud of smoke was ever-present, because it was the only way the Mamas we hired to cook for the kids had to prepare hot food.  Each morning, they would gather wood, build a fire on the ground, and with the might of two women, hoist an enormous pot of water (I'm talking ENORMOUS - probably 25 gallons worth) on top of the fire.  It would heat for what seemed like hours and then various ingredients would be added, making it into a stew and/or into Pap, a traditional South African carb meant to soak up the stews.  It could very well be 5 or 6 hours of preparation to make lunch for the children. 

Kiddos chasing the Land Rover on our way to VBS

Another moment was actually a replay from a previous mission trip.  After I had been in SA for about a week, the washing machine at the house we were staying in broke.  The team only brought enough clothes for about a week, so laundry desperately needed to be done.  So, I and four other girls heated water on the stove for at least an hour to soak the clothes and proceeded to wash 11 people's week-worth of clothes.  It was exhausting, but again reminded me that things in other parts of the world take much longer than they do at home.  I was reminiscing about a mission trip to India I'd led where we washed the clothes of the kids at the Children's Home where we stayed and what a process that was. It was so tiring, but the ache in our bodies and the chemical burning on my hands reminded us that someone does this work all the time.

And that leads me to some reflections...

I could say how fortunate we are for having what we have, or talk about how much faith people have, though they have very little.  These things are all true, but they're not the point.  What I think stands out more to me is this - we as Americans are often too quick to judge others or to give our pity, and not our power.  The recipients of our judgement are both in the US and abroad.  I have, many times, heard people make comments about people "not working hard enough" or "not trying" or "not caring about doing better for their families".  I can say, after having done the required research across four continents that this just isn't the case. 

People in developing countries, and specifically the most economically disadvantaged of them, often struggle to live on very, very little.  Infrastructure is woeful.  At the house where we stayed, in a nice and relatively built up area of South Africa, the electricity and water can come and go as freely as a wild game animal.  It's just not reliable.   In the villages, many houses have only one light bulb to illuminate an entire room. Or none at all.  Families sleep 7-8 people in cramped quarters.  Things take so. much. time.  Travel via taxi and bus is cheap enough, but can take hours to get from point A to point B - a distance we easily (and quickly) traversed in our private car.  Making food, going to buy food, growing food, all take up precious time as well.  It's not a matter of lack of will, it is, as one of the mamas said to me that, "we live simply, because we have no other option".   

A Mama selling Nuts alongside the road

The teenagers of these houses, and especially the ones that Hope of Africa is involved with, know that they can do better.  They have had opportunities to be schooled and clothed and fed and to experience what Christian community looks like.  But how can a student write applications to college with no electricity?  How can a family survive when one or both parents have died from the most massive HIV/AIDS epidemic in the world? (see here http://www.avert.org/hiv-aids-south-africa.htm).  Many children are themselves caregivers of their younger siblings, far before they are ready. 

That's why I am so hopeful and excited about the work that Hope of Africa is doing.  There are many problems in South Africa - probably too many to list.  But the ministry we worked with is going to the heart of the issue - people.  The Hope of Africa is investing in kids who have potential and aiming high.  The chances of success are greatly improved for these teens if they can attain a college education.  So Hope of Africa tutors them.  The kids have a safe place to come and use laptop computers to write up applications and essays.  The kids have a community with other kids like them, where, for just a few moments, the actually get to kick around a ball and just be kids. 

I feel, as I always do when humbled by those who do so much with so little, inadequate.  And I think that's okay.  Mission trips function as an agitator.  If you come back feeling good, there's probably something wrong.  I'm just trying to figure out how to turn that agitation into action once again.

Til next time,

The Adventurer