Far from a Day of Rest

I spent the morning unpacking and preparing my room for my 5-month stay. However I finished this before 9AM and knew I had a full day ahead of me.  The security guard greeted me through my open windows and asked if I was going to church. His broken English however made the conversation difficult and I could no clue where the nearest church was or what time service began. However, this was a sign that it was time to see the village and examine my surroundings. Besides I needed to see if bottled water was available since we have jugged drinking water, which most likely is not suitable without treatment since I am a foreigner.

I began the long walk down the mountain into the village. I was struck by the sensation I was walking in the wrong direction, as everyone else appeared to walk in my opposite direction. They of course stared or the children ran to shake my hand and smile at me. All of there were dressed in their “Sunday Best” and did not seem troubled by the tiresome journey to church.

I stopped and took photos taking in the scenery. As I got to an intersection unsure if I were to go right or left the bicycle taxi’s stopped and ask if the “White Girl” needed a ride to town. I politely attempted to decline and continued my walk in what I hoped was the correct direction. As I continued downhill an older woman attempted to make conversation with me. First it seemed polite. However, it quickly turned to confusion and what appeared to be her asking me for money. She got frustrated and walked away.

This was a difficult moment. I was enjoying trying to speak with the locals. However she kept holding a 50-piece Franc and pointing to my bag and camera. I am still unsure of what she kept saying to me. The more I shook my head no the angrier she got until she stormed off. It was disappointing and frustrating. If I had known what she was asking I may have been able to answer better.  At this point I was still only halfway to the village. I continued to smile as the locals stared and greeted them with a Bonjour, Good Morning, or wave depending on how they initiated the conversation. The closer I grew to the village the larger the crowds wanting to say hello.

I was unsure of what the village would look like on a Sunday. It was similar to the United States. Some places were closed down due to it being “the day of rest” while others ran business as usual. This was similar to the behavior of the people. Some hurried to walk the kilometers needed to Church while others leisurely spent time together. One woman sat outside a shop getting a pedicure. I could not help smiling thinking women in any culture still enjoy the luxury of pedicures; even if the amenities are far different.

I wondered what many of the shops were to my left; it was difficult to decide how to enter them. Furthermore, it was apparent window-shopping for a “white girl” was not really an option. If I enter a store I am expected to purchase something. I simply kept walking until I found the “goods shop” from yesterday. I purchased 2 spicy empanadas, 1 bottle of coke, and a large bottle of water for 1100 Franc or $1.71. This was exactly what I needed. I sat on a small bench drinking the refreshing Coke from the long walk and eating my empanada lunch. Of course sitting there enjoy such luxury left the opportunity for more questions.

A young gentleman informed me he would like me to buy him a bottle of coke and the security guard next to him a bottle of water. The coke question I awkwardly smiled off and said no; however, it was difficult to not consider purchasing water for the guard. However, they both laughed when I said no and could tell I did not know how to respond. They continued to ask but could tell they were not going to get what they asked for. I told them the water was to take home. They laughed more and seemed to understand. I bid them goodbye and decided I should continue on my journey. I suddenly realized I did not know where that journey was too. Furthermore, I did not know how to get rid of my empty bottle of coke. Most likely I should return it to the shop. I however, simply was carrying my trash and cold bottle of water. I could not carry these around town. It was time to head home.

I turned around and began the hike back up the mountain. Once again it seemed as if I was walking in the incorrect direction as crowds of people came pouring down the mountain. A large group of children dressed in uniform singing and clapping to my left and families to my right. I am unsure if they were leaving church or heading to church.  The one thing I could be certain of was even though they were walking far distances in their nice clothing on a hot day they were happy. They were not begging for money. The small children would run up to me stick their hand out and say “Good Morning” when I would shake their had they would run away giggling. The older women welcomed me and greeted me with smiles. It was entirely different that my previous experiences. They did not want anything from me only to say hello.

As I turned down the final uphill road to home a 16-year-old girl was walking in my same direction. She greeted me and attempted to make conversation. A mother with her toddler daughter stopped to say hello to me. The small girl stuck out her hand to shake mine her mother laughed and overjoyed by here daughters wonder of me. The 16-year-old girl and I separated from the mother and child and continued the walk up the mountain.  She told me she was going to the Catholic Church to sing. We tried to make difficult conversation up the mountain. I became aware of how warm and tiring this walk was getting.  I grew in awe to think these citizens do this on a daily basis. How much we as American’s take for granted transportation.

I looked behind me to see an older woman sweating and tiredly walking up the mountain to church. Guilt over filled me as I looked at my unopened bottle of cold water. This woman was out of breath and asking for nothing. I offered her some water. She was grateful. As she drank a mother carrying a baby and 2 young girls caught up to us. The mother shielded her baby from the sun with an umbrella and happily said hello to me asking, “Where are you coming?” As this was happening the older woman was returning my water. How could I not also offer this mother carrying a child up a mountain on a hot day water.  I then offered it to here 2 year old that was walking and the 16 year old and back to the older woman. The older woman seemed surprised by my willingness to share. How could I not?

I told the mother I was working for World Relief. She smiled and told me she would see me tomorrow. She too worked at my office.  They all thanked me for my water and she told the older woman I was part of World Relief. It seemed to explain everything. It is irony that the people I offered water to were a co-workers family and a lone 16-year-old girl.  I look forward to see her again tomorrow.

I learned even if Sunday is a day of rest these people would travel a distance to share their beliefs together. They do not care about the effort it takes to get to church. That is true faith. How many times have I opted to sleep in one day versus making the effort to dress up and go to service?  Furthermore, it is apparent they work hard and make more efforts in everything they do compared to many people I know. It is gratifying. It makes me realize how much life I often take for granted.

 A gentleman who is also a student in Public Health whom I will be working directly with came to the office to meet me. He is Rafiki's roommate. He told me of the Health Centers we will visit which are nearly 50 kilometers away. I learned we will be in the field an abundance which will require leaving for the villages very early. To hear more about the project was exciting but I am more struck by his and Rafiki's situation. They are both married with multiple children however their families live hours away. They work where the jobs are available. I knew this was common from studies but it hard to hear. To be forced to continually away from your family is disheartening. Forced to not be able to watch your children grow up in order to put food on the table with meager salaries. Yet this is the normal in the culture. The way one must live. These are the instances that take minutes to comprehend. The realization again how although is occasionally occurs in the US it is the uncommon versus the normal. 

It is not a wonder that when they locals see a "White Girl" they are persuaded to ask for money or items. We truly do have far more than we realize. I am aware of those that live in poverty in the US but to witness it first hand changes everything.  I am eager to learn and accept more of their culture, to understand what truly matters rather than the pettiness of life.