The fabric of my soul.

I’ve been on the ground in Tanzania for less than 24 hours, and somehow it feels like home.

It defies explanation; I don’t understand how it is or what it is or why, but something in me just feels alive here in a way I seldom feel in the United States.  I'm watching the cursor blink as I try to find the words to explain that somehow the air and the dust and the equatorial sun feel as though they have become a part of my DNA; woven into the fabric of my soul. I can feel it running through my veins... and that's where the words begin to fail me.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that no one expects understanding here; I feel free to ask anyone for help, where to find things I need or how to get there or what they mean by one thing or another.  Everyone is so helpful and warm and greet you with a big smile.  In the states, we’re siloed, cut off from others, fiercely independent and asking for help with something that is unfamiliar is a challenge.  I think back on one of my first train rides in Boston; after a certain time at night, on one particular line, you have to signal when you want the driver to stop/open the doors but only after a certain point.  Of course, I didn’t know this and was so confused and embarrassed when I missed my stop.  If that happened here, I would simply ask the person next to me what was happening and they would explain how it works without a second thought.  Maybe that would have happened in the states, but in general the culture is such that I don’t even feel comfortable asking. It’s intrusive and I feel like an idiot.  Here, it’s just expected and people look out for each other. 

I also love the complete 180 in my own temperament regarding time.  In the states I’m attached to a rigidly pre-defined schedule and a certain amount of anxiety is allocated to ensuring I’m on time (or early); here, you figure things out as you go along and planning is limited at most to a few hours in advance, with loosely-defined hours. 

I think it also has something to do with my own anxiety levels here.  They're nearly nonexistent.  In Boston I feel stressed about trying to understand things that aren't clear, how to get around, how to interact with people and how to ensure I'm doing a good job and doing everything 'right'.  Here.... here we figure things out as we go along. And I know that very little is actually in my control.  And I probably should try and transfer some of that temperament back to the states, now that I think about it... 

And really, nothing fills my heart with more joy than the excitement with which my few words of Swahili are received.  When I ask how to say something, eager to (re)learn basic conversation, you would think I’ve just offered them a million dollars, they’re so excited.

So today is a settling-in day; I got my Tanzanian cell phone number, adjusting to the many-hour time difference and reminding my skin that secretly it really loves the heat and humidity. Tomorrow I head out at 4am to fly to the north of the country where we will be doing hospital assessments; something I love, have done many of with Mercy Ships and am so excited to be able to do again. 

My heart is so full it feels like it might burst right out of my chest.  I’m so grateful to be here. 

Tuk-Tuks are called Bajaji's here.

Coconuts

The power of voice.

I spent a few days this week at the UN General Assembly in New York.  It was crazy. It was chaotic. It was exciting and powerful and really showed me the power of voice and passion and a community of people making topics or ideas into real issues.  I wrote here a few months ago about the fact that I didn’t really see much value in marching and screaming about whatever upsets your heart and mind and passion; I really felt that doing something about it, loving instead of screaming, action and change and the work of one’s hand was more important, practical, and beneficial.  However, through many thoughtful conversations that sprung from that post, and my experience at the UNGA, I’ve completely shifted my thinking and understanding on advocacy.  A leader I know said it, the UNGA is basically a multimillion-dollar pep rally; that really, really bothered me.  The money spent could be put into action; could pay for food for the hungry or surgery for those that need it or new roads or new hospitals or any one of the millions and billions of things that are desperately needed. I felt that way about the money spent for me and our team to go there; is this really the best use of funds? We really just talked with people about the fact that we think surgery is important and the data supports this; but did we accomplish anything?

The resounding answer is yes.  Because, as one of my colleagues said, issues aren’t issues until people are talking about them. That's the power of voice. Surgery will never get its place at the table or on the global health agenda without people asking for it, pleading for it, demanding it, fighting for it.  Issues aren’t issues until someone decides they are and rallies a group of likeminded people who won’t take no for an answer and will work tirelessly to meet and network and share and speak and chip away at the walls that divide us, regardless of what the issue is. For me it’s surgery; for others, it’s social justice or equality or race or a million other worthy issues that wouldn’t be issues unless someone was talking about them.

So I see and get and embrace and understand in an entirely new way; and want to support those people who keep trying and calling and speaking and chipping away at the walls; it’s much more important than I ever realized.  But also; it’s not for everyone.   If everyone was advocating there’d be no one doing the work on the ground, in the trenches, actually teaching or writing the policies or organizing the donors or installing the new stuff.  And while I’m really, really grateful to have had the opportunity to experience the UNGA and understand more fully the power and purpose of advocacy, my truth is I would rather be in the trenches. 

This afternoon I fly back across the globe, to a country I’ve only visited as a tourist and am thrilled to get to work in; the government of Tanzania and several other entities have partnered with us to see what we can do to improve surgical services. I’m thrilled to be returning to Africa; the truth is I’m much more comfortable in an African market than I am in an American supermarket, and I can’t wait to experience the Tanzanian culture and learn more Swahili and kick my feet in the red dust of the continent that is inextricably woven through the fibers of my soul.

It’s been a challenging season since arriving in Boston, but the good news is there is always good news; things have really been looking up and I’ve got about a dozen half-written blog posts about things I love about Boston and about how hard it is to find community and about the dear John letter I wrote to the church and about how even though I wasn’t sure I wanted it anymore, it still wants me and won’t let me just bail.  And I’m grateful for that. But for now I’ve got a plane to catch and should probably throw a few things in a suitcase; thank you for being a part of my story, of the journey, of the ups and the downs and the joys.  I’m so grateful.

Until next time -

Redefining.

It’s been quiet here as I’m navigating the season of transition;  it’s not been easy but it has been worth it; I find myself having to redefine what it means to be… well, me.   

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I’m redefining what valuable means.

I’m a super task-oriented person and am generally at my most comfortable in one of two places: 1) I am at about 105% of capacity, a little stressed, with several balls in the air and responsibility on my shoulders; in this scenario, I’m decisive, confident, calm, and super productive. Or 2) I’m on vacation and completely unplugged.

So when I started my new job about six weeks ago, I expected to start off running from day one; with a task list that I would accomplish faster and better than anyone expected, proving my value and inviting more trust and responsibility and input and all those things that add up to being a valuable member of the team. 

And instead of running from day one I have felt like I’ve been wandering around looking for the starting line.   It’s brought out the worst in me; panic and striving and anxiety and desperation, trying to prove my value in an environment that, as it turns out isn’t actually looking for it.   That’s just me.  What I need to do? Sit back, read, learn, watch, observe, and stop panicking about not being productive and proving my value by checking off a to-do list.  Value is not actually defined by productivity.

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I’m redefining what selfish means.

I’ve had this nagging thought in the back of my head for weeks; this accusation of values that just won’t stop.  It’s a belief that a life not dedicated to service is a selfish life. 

Transitioning from an existence that is almost entirely altruistic; volunteering my time and then in my spare time volunteering somewhere else is an incredible lifestyle that I loved.  And so to find myself living in Boston with a salary and a neverending shopping list and a weekly schedule that is filled with events that are all about me, about finding my tribe and trying to find happy and all I can think is what a selfish person I’ve become. 

But actually, that’s also not fair, and there’s a time and a season for everything, and altruism and service are not actually about the events or actions you’re doing but the life you are leading.    I can lead an altruistic life while still collecting a salary, I can offer my time where it is needed/wanted in this season; and actually, finding my tribe is important, too. This is something I’m still wrestling with, what does it look like, how do I do this, how do I find the balance; and the still, small voice gently reminds me that a truly selfish person wouldn’t be asking the question. Selah.

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I’m redefining what self-control means.

Time-management and money-management looks really different for me on this side of the sea. Suddenly I’m realizing how much time goes into maintaining life that I never had to consider on the ship; things like grocery shopping, cooking and preparing food, cleaning up after said cooking and preparing, commuting (100 steps from bed to desk on the ship; 20-30-minute commute each direction here), making plans with friends ahead of time instead of walking down the hall and finding someone… I’m also realizing how much money goes into maintaining that life that I never really considered before.  Sticker shock is in full effect; it’s expensive to live and eat and be social in Boston, and I’m what most people would generally call frugal.

And so after the first week I decided I just need to get it under control and I created time management plans and budget plans and because I don’t do anything at less than 100% I also decided I would enforce these things to the letter starting on that first day.  I scheduled out every minute and budgeted out every dollar and was so proud of my self-control and discipline and was excited to see my own massive productivity increase and personal finances blossom… and then reality and humanity struck, and just a few days in I was wallowing in a puddle of misery: I had failed.

But geez, it’s all new and self-control doesn’t actually mean get it right on the first try and it also doesn’t mean if you don’t stick to this (incredibly restrictive, controlling, and unrealistic) plan on the very first try (when you really have no idea how long things actually take or how much things actually cost) you’re a failure as a human.  I don’t want to go the other direction by throwing out all time and money management plans, because those things are important; but too much control is not self-control, it’s just setting yourself up for failure.  I’m figuring out what it looks like to be gracious to myself, these things are lifestyle changes not intended to be perfect from day one.  Self-control means asking the questions and trusting the process and offering grace and doing the next right thing, whatever that is.

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Patience and grace are the words of the season.  Patience with myself, mostly; I have incredibly high expectations of myself and just want to be through the difficulty of discovery and have my work and social life and service life and financial life all figured out already.  It’s not. But I’m on the right path and I’m going to keep putting one foot in front of the other and doing the next right thing. 

Until next time…