It just doesn't seem fair...
It’s been difficult coming back to America. I’ve had this sort of inner struggle in a way. You see, I enjoyed being in Ethiopia. Meeting the people, eating with my hands, not worrying about how I looked, being able to wear the same clothes more than once in a small time frame and nobody caring, having structure but also not getting bogged down about what time it was, etc. This doesn’t mean that it wasn’t exciting to come back to America. There are things that I’m definitely enjoying about being back. Such as eating a sandwich. Gosh, I really missed those haha. And it’s nice lying on the couch for a little bit, chilling, and just watching tv. Being back with my family is great as I continue to talk their ears off with my stories. And I’ve really enjoyed catching up with those of you I missed so much while I was gone. I hope that continues! I love sitting around and chatting with ya’ll. It really is one of my favorite things to do!!! So shoutout to ya’ll :) You know who you are!
But it’s still hard. I’m in so much comfort here. It just doesn’t seem fair. And the things that make me uncomfortable here are incredibly different from what made me uncomfortable there. In America, I don’t like talking on the phone with people (there are a few exceptions), eating in a more formal way, and feeling like I always need to look in the mirror before leaving the house. I don’t like having to be an adult…meaning that I have to take care of what seem to be ridiculous things. Yeah, yeah, I know this is a part of growing up. Making doctor appointments and such has been on my daily to do lists. I hate going to the doctor. Really, I do. It’s one of my absolute least favorite things to do. Oh, and I don’t like getting gas. Not that I want it to be like in New Jersey and have somebody pump for me, but I hate stopping before getting to my destination on such short little jaunts. Sorry haha I really shouldn’t be complaining.
In Ethiopia, I didn’t like wondering what the bathroom was gonna be like, not being able to go in the kitchen and make a sandwich, not eating salad, letting people carry my bag for me, and avoiding eye contact with beggars because I couldn’t give them money. If I had, then I would have gotten surrounded by a large number of others who were also begging. It was tough ya’ll. The poverty was tremendous. To have a little child tapping on your window with their hand outstretched, or a mother cradling her crying baby in her arms, and sometimes those who had physical disabilities that were apparent as they moved closer to the van…words don’t do it justice. One time we were walking along the street in Addis Ababa and a little boy actually reached up from where he was sitting on the ground and touched my hand. It all just broke my heart. You hear about poverty like this, but it’s only until you immerse yourself into it that it becomes a reality. And a harsh one.
But in Ethiopia I was still able to give to those that I got to know. And pretty much everyone I got to know could have used some financial help. I prayed for everyone I came in contact with and knew that they longed for God’s hand to come over them and those that they loved. You wouldn’t believe how grateful people were when they received anything, anything at all, from one of us in the group. The way eyes would light up and grins would stretch across faces. It warmed my heart for sure. Still does just thinking about it.
But you see, in America we have so many comforts. It just doesn’t seem fair. Kids often say that phrase because they feel like they’re being treated unequally. Or sometimes they say it because they just don’t like what is going on. Often times I really do believe that adults would like to say that things just aren’t fair. They would probably scream it from the rooftops in a few situations.
Haha I don’t really consider myself an adult. I’m still supported by my parents and even if I was supporting myself, I’ve got this kid-like persona in a way. So put me in the category of a kid or an adult. I don’t really care. Either way, I want to loudly proclaim that message, IT JUST DOESN’T SEEM FAIR. I say it with a different meaning than it has ever carried before. This isn’t about me losing a game, not getting as much food as my brothers (that’s the worst haha), or feeling like I deserved better in some other ridiculous situation. Because those are definitely ridiculous situations. This is about people who are trying to care for their families to the best of their abilities. This is about people who jump for joy at anything they are given because they truly don’t have much. This is about people who eat little and work extremely hard to receive even less. This is about people who are suffering. Like I said, it just doesn’t seem fair. And I’ll say it again, it just doesn’t seem fair. Because it really doesn’t. There’s no denying that. And it may never seem fair. At least not to me.
In America, I always have water coming out of my faucet, and it doesn’t trickle. It flows. Plus, I can control the temperature. That’s a big deal! I always have electricity that comes with the flip of a switch. And if I don’t have electricity, it’s only for a few seconds before it returns. I always have internet and it seems to be readily available at the speed of light here. I always have a car that I can personally drive to wherever I want to go with a flat, smooth road to lead me on. No need to worry about waiting for a driver to chauffeur me around town because it isn’t difficult to get a license here. And there are gas stations on every corner with multiple pumps that usually aren’t all being used at the same time. I always have a convenient way to wash and dry my clothes, which is all done inside. And I don’t have to worry about whether or not it’s going to rain because once again, my clothes are inside. I’m not scared of dogs, like most children are in Ethiopia, because here they aren’t wild but instead are companions. I live behind locked doors but not within a compound that has a guard. I can go places after 7p.m. and it will still be light outside. And when it gets dark, there are street lights that brighten the roads to the point where I don’t have to worry about what’s all around me. There most likely won’t be animals or people in my way.
It just doesn’t seem fair.
But I’ve been reminded that despite the poverty being so immense, there is so much good the people in Ethiopia have to offer and do offer to one another and to us while visiting. They have a faith that withstands the hard lifestyle that many of them live. And they would say that they are truly blessed, which is different from the way we throw that word (blessed) around. The Holy Spirit is within them and they want to share it with everyone else around them. There is a passion that spills out of the people there. And let me tell you…if you aren’t passionate about something when you go to Ethiopia, then you surely will be by the time that you leave. More about my passions later in another blog post…
So for me, it has been difficult being back in America. I have a tough time looking around and seeing such a vast difference between what is here and what is there. It still doesn’t make sense to me and just doesn’t seem fair. But I do know that the same God that is watching over me is also watching over all those in Ethiopia, and everywhere else in the world. My friends in Ethiopia are in good hands and good spirits. That is a truth that I must hold onto as they go about their days and I go about mine, even though some things just don’t seem fair.
Alrighty...Enough ramblin’ for one day. Peace out ya’ll!
