i remember when

So I'm on Spring Break.

(woooooh)

Unfortunately this semester has decided to be the death of me so traveling is not a thing and in its place comes hours upon hours in cafes drinking mass amounts of coffee while writing endless papers.

I know.

Party hardy.

So I'm sitting here staring at my computer screen thinking, "Wow Kayla, you really know how to turn up. You're on Spring Break in frickin Mexico! That's like, every white girl's dream. But, you're spending it mostly at home, completely swamped in your books. You go Glen Coco." when my brain started to wander.

Last year during Spring Break, I went camping in the Chobe National Park in Northern Botswana (and a small time in Zimbabwe with one of the seven natural wonders of the world,Victoria Falls) with the elephants, lions, hippos, impalas, giraffes, zebras, and some pretty gnarly humans.

The view driving in to camp.

Victoria Falls exploring with Bryce.

Victoria Falls. (Not even half.)

Chobe

A water buffalo! (I may or may not have sang the water buffalo song from Veggie Tales every time we saw one.)

Chobe river with Jose and his brother.

All the shade from Bryce. Thanks for the jacket, btw.

Hey there kitty kitty. 

Our bad ass guide, Frank.

Most of our group. (Including some Motswana, Americans, Swedes, Mexicans and Canadians.)

We spend a week together waking up early to explore, getting arms distance away from stunning creatures, rushing to camp "Ferrari safari" style to be back before dark, sitting around the campfire getting destroyed by mosquitoes and who know what other bugs, and then laying awake at night in our tents listening to elephants stomp down trees, hippos grunt and baboons chase each other through the bushes.

I often have to stop and ask myself

"Is this real life?"

Because holy guacamole, I am so blessed.

_____

Thinking more of my time in Bots I am filled with both emotions of great fondness and great despair.

I had so much fun.  

I remember exploring Gabs via combi and getting ridiculously lost in the process. They may say that combi 6 goes to Game City where, by the way, you can get the best coffee in the Gabs, but sometimes, it just doesn't. 

Then I'd have to call Sampson (my faithful cabbie) to come and save me. He was the most random man. He was in a merengue band and would constantly blare his cd from his car. He also would answer his phone at all hours and be unnaturally enthusiastic to pick you up. 

My roommate, Abang, was also fantastic.

I remember late night sitting on the floor by her bed while her and Kitso attempted to teach me Setswana pronunciation. They would laugh as I struggled but never gave up on me. 

She would come over to my side of the room to Skype my parents with me and ya know what, I think they might actually love her more than they love me. ;)

Carley was also a gem.

For most of the semester the two of us were attached at the hip. We'd go dancing, explore the city, study at Linga Longa, and embark in general shenanigans together.

Ooh, I remember when we discovered that place with cucumber smoothies... life changed forever.

We also, with two friends, went exploring in Bots over Easter weekend. We road tripped basically the whole country and just made it up as we went along. This proved to be disastrous at times, but all in all we tore it up.

On Easter, Carley and I canoed solo in the Chobe river. It was incredible, just the two of us taking on the great unknown. We spent the whole day in Kasane sitting in lawn chairs reading, journaling and talking about life while overlooking God's beautiful creation until we decided to explore it up close and personal. Though probably not the safest life choice, I will forever remember the feeling of the river against my paddle, the wind blowing through the reeds and the Motswana people taking pictures and being incredibly confused at why there were two white girls alone in the middle of the river.

(Carley btw is still in Bots working for Campus Crusade for Christ (CREW) and I'm sure would appreciate your prayers.)

_____

Though Bots provided unlimited adventure, it also presented immense challenges.

I remember walking into the student center one day and seeing it filled with tents. When I asked someone what was going on, they said it was a regular HIV/Aids testing week. Botswana has the highest HIV/Aids rates in the world. My friends, their families and loved ones... this was a reality for them. 

I got extremely sick towards the end of my trip and ended up having to be rushed to the hospital. I had refused treatment for over a week because often, HIV/Aids is transferred through hospital needles. I ended up passing out and waking up with IVs in my arms. Carley was there and promised me that she saw them unwrap the needles so they were fresh, but I still had to get HIV/Aids testing to ensure that I was not infected. My one scare is an everyday reality for those living in Bots.

The extreme patriarchy in Bots also was something that I had to wrestle with every second of every day. I was burdened by my own feminism thinking, how can I continue to fight for my rights in the United States when women in Bots have basically zero rights. How can I complain of a wealth gap between women's and men's salaries in the US when there are passion killings all the time in Bots from male jealousy and the belief that it's okay because the woman is theirs.

I wrote a poem to express my inner conflict through a Biblical perpective named "Because I am a woman" and posted it about a year ago. If you care to read it, feel free to back track on my blog a bit. It's there.

I remember struggling with the rote educational system and having flashbacks to my time teaching in Rwanda. This is not a problem solely in Bots, it's on a global level. I wrote a paper in my "Ecology and Empire, Conservation Politics in Eastern Africa during the Colonial Era" course that linked the industrial revolution to colonial policies through the use of romanticism poetry and my professor was mind blown. It was the first abstract thesis that she had ever received during her time as a professor.

_____

I remember coming back to Gig Harbor and having terrible reverse culture shock.

I have never had problems going abroad. I adjust just fine to the third world lifestyle (for more on that theme, read my last blog post titled "but seriously, why the third world?"). 

Going from technology rampant, fast, and self-centered to simple, slow and genuinely caring has never been an issue. I actually crave it.

But man or man, going in the opposite direction just about kills me.

I remember trying to communicate the beauty coupled with pain that I experienced to people and only getting blank stares and belittling questions in response.

I desperately wanted someone that I could relate to.

Thankfully, Sanne reached out to me and I was understood.

I took some dried mmpani caterpillars to my mom's class and gave those kids the opportunity to eat like a Motswana.

I was able to incorporate my learned behaviors and joys into my work with youth.

But it still hurt. Whenever I go back to the states, it hurts. Loneliness in thought has become a norm.

_____

So now I sit in a coffee shop, writing instead of studying, remembering.

Bots might not be home anymore, but it will always have a piece of my heart.

Mexico might be home right now, but it won't be forever.

Mexico though, will always have a piece of my heart.

Every place I have poured myself into the lives of those around me will have a piece of my heart because a part of me will always be in the hearts of those I loved, was loved by and left.

Gig Harbor youth work.

Some students in Rwanda.

Lesotho in Botswana. 

Chapala in Mexico.

Kerry and Cris in Mexico.

Carley (pronounced Curley by locals) and I road tripping in Bots.

A few days ago outside of my church in Mexico.

Youth work in Gig Harbor with one of the best, Miss Allie.

 Youth work in Gig Harbor.

My heart is scattered around the globe and I have no qualms with that.

Know that you are loved deeply.

_____

Ventura

Gig Harbor

Fresno

Yakima

Vancouver

Panama 

Santa Catalina

San Francisco

Tacoma

Kigali

Chicago

Yelm

Gabarone

Kasane

Lapwai

Guadalajara

_____

I remember when...

but seriously, why the third world?

Every morning it takes me about an hour and a half to arrive at my university.

Sometimes, when I time the busses just right, I can manage it in an hour. But let's be honest, timing things correctly here is simply not a thing.

 

By the time I've finished my monotonous classes, the last thing I care to do is work with multiple busses during the hottest time of the day, which is conveniently rush hour.

 

Thankfully, my lovely university has set up an unofficial hitchhiking/ride sharing/carpool system.

Now, before you freak the frick out, I'm not hitchhiking on the street from random people in Mexico. Have a little faith in me.

 

There is a small round about in the entrance of ITESO and all students and faculty who park on campus must pass through the round about, after showing their credentials, in order to enter and leave the university. It is by this location that I obtain a ride home every day.
(Note above picture.)

 

I really enjoy it.

I get to meet new people, both students and faculty, and have really interesting conversation.

 

Today I, along with two other students, received rides from one of ITESO's professors.

We talked about our respective majors, how our weekends went, the weather... ya know, typical conversation until it turned into something a with a bit more depth.

 

The professor asked me about where I have traveled and when I began to tell him about my US and Canada travel working in the inner city with the homeless, my time in Panama, Rwanda, Botswana and now Mexico... He was completely puzzled.

 

"Por que el tercer mundo? Tu podrias ir a cualquier lugar que quieres..."

Why the third world? You could go anywhere you want...

 

I paused to think.

 

You see, I've always been extremely attracted to the third world lifestyle.

The sense of true community and ability to thrive in simplicity fascinates me.

The fact that friendliness is not done out of convenience but out of genuine care is beautiful and the general open armed demeanor is something the rest of the world should really take note of.

 

He nodded in a respectful manner and agreed with my conclusions.

But then he asked again

"En serio, por que el tercer mundo?"

But seriously, why the third world?

 

I paused to gather my thoughts again.

Normally that's my standard answer because it's true and satisfies people's questions.

This prof though seemed to know that there was more, or perhaps he did not believe that a young, American woman could be enamored by a life filled with community and simplicity.

 

I responded again.

I love the third world because in the third world I see the face of Christ.

 

I love the song "Signature of the Divine (Yahweh)" by Needtobreathe.

The opening line captures my sentiments pretty darn well.

 

"Cathedrals have tried in vain to show the image of your face. We are, by own design, signature the Divine."

 

It later goes on to say

 

"The fortunes of kings and queens are wasted chasing what we've seen. 'Cause we are, by your reprieve, the beauty framed by your suffering."

 

 

Those who have spent time with the outcasts, the downtrodden, the poor, the hurting, the deemed "freaks" by society, the orphans, the widows, the prostitutes, the addicts, the dealers, the families living ten people to a one room apartment, the shut ins, and the terminally ill... they'll all have to agree with me.

 

Jesus was a baller.

A total outcast.

Like, he's God, I'm pretty sure he could do whatever with whomever he wanted.

But no, he chose to kick it with women, fishermen, tax collectors, children, lepers...

 

He made killer speeches about the Kingdom of God, told stories of forgiveness and grace, flipped tables to show his fury regarding corruption in the church and side stepped cocky assholes let the children come to him.

 

I've seen the beauty that riches can provide.

Massive mansions, fast cars, political power, status, unlimited education, effortless travel, glitzy clothing, general attractiveness, tons of friends...

 

I've also seen the beauty that true joy can provide.

Widows singing praises and dancing in the face of their HIV/Aids, orphans playing with sticks in the mud but smiling as if that stick was the coolest toy in the world, families living in cardboard boxes telling bedtime stories as they cuddle together, old women scrapping up what resources they have in order to provide their entire church congregation with homemade tamales every Sunday night...

 

people who know that money is not what makes a life worth living,

people who maybe can't even identify where this feeling comes from,

people who know that this joy is not of earthly origin.

 

Holy joy,

the radiating light that shines from those who know their worth in Christ rather than status,

those thriving in the worst conditions one could imagine...

 

that's why I love the third world.

 

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

Blessed are they that mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are the clean of heart. for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted, for the sake of righteousness,

for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven."

Matthew 5:3-12

 

 "Signature of the Divine (Yahweh)" by Needtobreathe