So I said goodbye to my family in Mozambique. Not I will see you next week or I will see you soon or even I will see you in the next couple of years! No. I said goodbye. It was hard. It felt so strange. I have lived with these wonderful people for nearly six weeks now, all of a sudden, it's over. Before I did, however, I had a really sweet moment with my host mom.
Prior to traveling into Mozambique, we had a day of shopping in a mall just outside of Johannesburg and as a team, we chose to purchase a pair of tennis shoes for each one of our host moms and then reveal the gift during our last week with them. I figured it was a thoughtful and nice idea, though it didnt mean much to me at that time, but it really started kicking in as I got closer and closer with my family. My mom and her six children share four pairs of flip flops. One of my brothers has an old, ripped pair of white sneakers to wear with his school uniform, and those are the only shoes they own. It makes me feel a little ridiculous thinking of how many pairs of shoes I have waiting to be worn in my closet back home. For the most part, they walk around bare foot, unless it is between noon and 3pm in the afternoon (the hottest part of the day, when the sand is hot enough to give your feet blisters) or if they need to walk to fetch water, go to the market, or visit a friend or neighbors home. (I have tried my best to walk barefoot when they do, and only wear shoes when they do, so my radical Chaco tan lines have realllly faded.) So you can imagine giving my mom a pair of shoes--specially sized and chosen for her--is such a huge change in what they are used to. Its hard to describe how special that moment was when I got to crouch down, loosen the laces, and slip them onto her feet. With a big grin on her face, she said she would go to the market the next day. Before we left, Bernadette, our community partner, made the all of the mothers biscuits with jam, an extravagance they never get the opportunity to eat, and cups of cold juice, a treat when all you ever drink is warm well water. I felt so small but so full of joy when I got to sit next to her for the last time and look at the black and purple sneakers I bought just for her while she slowly consumed the rare delicacies. Right before we hugged one last time, she took the tennis shoes off because, as she said, she didnt want to get them dirty on the walk home! She loved them! She was so happy and so proud.
I, along with the rest of the team, have made it a vital priority not to give things to the people we meet in the communities we live in. Giving is not a bad thing, it is a wonderful thing; I have experienced that in this exact situation. But what I have to offer--God's love and His love through me--is far better than whatever people seem to need materially. That's why I on this trip. Not to see how many hundreds of people I can convert or give money where I think it's needed. Often times, when I think money or objects are necessary, they might not be. When we as Westerners see something broken, we believe it should be fixed, or when something isnt as productive and efficient as possible, we must make it better! But that is not the case here! Life isnt lived like that. It is lived from a completely different perspective and worldview. And it works. If we come in and push our ways of thinking, it does not allow people to learn and grow and thrive on their own. Like the wonderful saying, If you give a man a fish, he will eat for a day. But if you teach a man to fish, he will eat for life.
Not only do these thoughts go along with giving, but they go along with teaching as well. I have learned that my way isnt always the best way. Doing something a certain way may work well at home, but that does not mean it will work best for the people and environments here. It is a continuous struggle to see how little the people I am surrounded by live with and what seems like ineffectiveness or lack of efficiency in their work. I think, If I could just give them this or that! If I could just buy them a whole new wardrobe so they dont have to wear the same thing week after week. If I could show them how to save time by fetching water this way, or walking this path back home. If I could sponsor their food portions for a week or a month or even a year, their life would be better, right? In some ways, maybe. I know they would be happy. Who wouldnt? But by doing these things, it creates distance between us. It builds the wall higher and higher and higher. I am talking about the wall between between rich and poor, white and black. In their mind (the "poor African's"), there is an undeniable inequality between races. I was not prepared for this. There is no denying that the Western World has pockets of racism, but here it is rooted deep, like nothing I have ever seen. As an example, many here believe that, solely because we are white, God hears us when we pray, blesses us when we ask, and loves us. And, because their skin is black, God does not hear them when they pray, does not bless them, and does not love them. They believe in these lies with their entire being, and it breaks my heart. They think that I am pretty since I am white and because they are black, they are hideous. I cannot believe it. They are BEAUTIFUL. I fight against that thinking. I even trained my littlest sister, Lucia (2-years-old), to scream, Bonita!! (which means "beautiful!") after every time I said her name. She got the hang of it and even started yelling it after I would say our other sisters names or "Mama." I think they finally understood how gorgeous I think they all are.
Again, I dont want anyone to think I am saying that giving is a bad thing. But I do believe that the wrong help can do a lot more damage than good. When I got to build up my host mom with friendship and love and then bless her with a gift, it was a beautiful thing. I didn't just hand her something I thought she needed. That pair of shoes was not tossed to her by a random white stranger with a smile and a thumbs up. With care, I laced her up in a gift I gave her because of my love and respect for her. Some people wonder why we stay with host families. The truth is we have been given the opportunity of a lifetime and so have the families. In doing so, we send a message. A white person living on the same level as this Mozambique-an family says to the family and the community as a whole that their lives have meaning. The wall between us (that I hate with a passion) begins to crumble. It is an incredibly powerful honor to be a part of that. I thank God for placing me in this battle between lies and truth.
I fell in love with my host family and with our community partner's heart for Macuba. She has accomplished and continues to accomplish great work of reconciliation in Mozambique. This is true, deep, real Africa, and I cannot say enough how much I loved it.
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