Musings

Sometimes.

Sometimes when I'm off campus (not often enough, these days), I see shabby, slanted mud houses inhabited by barefoot kids and bent women and I think about how hard it is to see such poverty. Then I realize it's not hard enough. Even though this poverty is just a stone's throw away from my front door, I live as American a life as can be imagined in Malawi--no diseases, thank you, Malarone; normal food, thank you, Chipiku; shoes, clothes, and sunglasses; books, movies, and internet. There are some interesting challenges, but none that inconvenience me to the point of hunger or pain. Yet those are some of the defining aspects of my unknown fellow Lilongwe-residents' days. And I am not shocked or bothered enough by it. I teach my well-dressed students, come home to a well-stocked kitchen, and know that if I listened closely enough, I might hear cheerful campus kids playing somewhere nearby. It's lovely. But it's not representative of this city. It's not all of my life here.

Sometimes I think about how sickened I am by selfishness and callousness. Then I am sickened when I think of how selfish and callous I am, and shame on me, because I'm here, in the tenth poorest nation in the world, typing on my MacBook with chai tea in reach. There is so much I could do. Be not alarmed; I have found some opportunities, and fully plan on finding something that I can participate in while teaching.

Pray for me, praying friends. Pray I wouldn't try to get comfortable here. Pray that I would not be satisfied with only doing my job (as much as I love and value it), but that I would seek to assist and love anyone within reach. There is so much need.