Safe and Sound

Nothing like a little random gunfire to remind you to get your saferoom in order...

Dafia

You really have to go into aid work knowing you may never be thanked, acknowledged or perhaps you will even disliked for your long hard days filled to the brim with ridiculous stress (and, by that, I also mean things that stress you out would be absolutely ridiculous and absurd in the “real world” back home). Why? Well, for more reasons than knowing giving without expectation of return. Mostly for reasons of sanity. 

Then, on Tuesday this week when we were settling in for our weekly coordination meeting, we were interrupted by a man bringing us three chickens, 6 eggs, a large sack of rice and a larger sack of peanuts along with a letter from the community of Dafia (15km from Ango) thanking Medair for the work we have done there. Later, we would all admit we were fighting tears the whole time. What an incredible gift, and that the community would all decide to give of what little they already had to thank us for the work we had done in their community. It was too much to take in, really. Photos were taken, words of gratitude exchanged and we dove back into coordinating more health centers, latrines, wells and the logistics that string it all together and make it happen. 

The next day, our maman’s prepared a meal for the whole team from the gifts we had been given, as it is really everyone’s work who has contributed to the projects there. I asked one of our base guards (kind of the lowest ranking position around) how his work had contributed to this gratitude of the community of Dafia. He sat a little straighter and with a smile on his face explained all of the links between the small projects he does around the base, the security provided, the checking of kilometers on motorbikes and Land Cruisers, loading cargo and other daily tasks were vital to the work that is done there. It was encouraging to hear his thoughts on this, because, as a base manager, I am rarely outside of my base. I see lots of emails, spreadsheets, meetings and cargo, but not often do I get to see the end product.

Yes, I know these 3 tones of medicines I am maneuvering into Ango will save thousands of lives and that these pipes I am counting for a stock report will keep people from getting some of the awful waterborne diseases available in and around Ango, but its not like I am there watching it happen daily, you know? So, hearing someone who is even more indirectly involved talk about all the ways his work helps people really touched me. How incredible to work for an organization where even the lowest man on the totem pole feels important and that his/her work is valued? 

So, thank you to you, people of Dafia.

Thank you for helping me regain perspective that gets lost in the paper trails all too often.

Why go into this work on a daily basis not expecting to be noticed?

Because when your work evokes the most earnest expressions of gratitude, it is awe inspiring and overwhelming joy and gratitude that floods your heart. 

Live Simpler

There is no such thing as a simple life. There never has been. Yes, there is a way to live with less complication, less technical things to break down and cause more bills. But simple? Not possible. It is nostalgia for our idea of what the past might have been our nostalgia for what has never actually been.

Jon Stewart proved this with one of his classic montages a few years ago – I am sure I posted it somewhere. 

So, I have a t-shirt with a whale on it soliciting readers of my chest to “live simply”. I like it, I wear it, I am pretty sure I want to live by it. But the thing is, the act of life and the nature of simplicity are mutually exclusive. People are complicated and even if you live the life of a recluse, you are still a people. 

I have long strove for the ideal of living simply and the closer I feel I get to it, the more complicated things become. This is not true only because I live in a remote village in the middle of Africa (really, look up Ango, DRC on the satellite view), but it was true even when I was living in an alleyway compartment or on a small sailboat, or a studio downtown, or my mom's house. I have managed to stay free of mortgage, car payments, blah, blah, blah, but I have never felt I did not have a complicated life. People are not simple and I live and work with people. I am a people. Not simple. You get the picture. 

I am pretty sure I am not the first to come to this realization. I am also pretty sure this is not the first time I have realized it - it is the first time I am admitting it to myself. Perhaps the answer is to just live more simply. 
There is always excess, even in the “simplest” of lives. 

Live simpler, there is beauty in complexity.