It is not uncommon when traveling to a developing country to see the world with new eyes. But seeing the disparity, the hunger, the sickness, the corruption is not enough. It is like being a witness to a crime and deciding not to testify. Though there are many challenges (and numerous failures) of charitable work, I believe saying and doing nothing is almost always worse than doing something. I have not always "done it right." One occasion immediately comes to mind. It was during my first visit to Kenya in 2006. I went with a rather large church group, and we were in a much more rural part of Kenya. One day, we put on a carnival for kids in the surrounding area. Mistake (or 'learning opportunity') number 1 = trying to replicate a very American event in a foreign country. I was assigned to "toss the ball into the cup" game - the one where there are small prizes in the cup and if you land the ball into that cup, you win the prize. Even as I type this, I am laughing because it just was not a good idea! So I am setting up this game, and of course the kids are already flooding the area and I failed at my attempt to have them line up. In the midst of trying to regain some order, the kids begin to stop the prizes, which were mostly candy if I remember correctly, and all of a sudden, I have been trampled by a herd of children diving for candy. I was the dog at the bottom of the dog pile. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't move, and I remember thinking....We were so stupid! Why didn't we think this through??? These kids probably haven't eaten all day, so can I really blame them for trampling me to get a Tootsie roll?? And then I heard a man shouting and the snapping of a whip. (I can barely type this without crying). Upon realizing the American girl was at the bottom of a pile of hungry Kenyan children, one of men that were hosting our team took action. A few harsh words and the crack of the whip to rescue me. Though he kept apologizing, it was me that was ashamed and embarrassed. These kids had never been to a carnival ..how were they suppose to know you had to stand in a line, wait your turn, and play a game? All they knew was that they were hungry and there was something to eat. This encounter likely portrays these kids as uncivilized and out of control, but that is only looking from an outsider's perspective. The truth is these children were joyful, affectionate, resilient, and longed for attention and love. Had we Americans truly reached out and met these kids where they were at, assessed their needs, and engaged in a culturally appropriate activity, I may not still be haunted by the memory of that day and the sight of the whip corralling the children. I wish I had reached out and held them in my arms. I wish I had taught them the Hokey Pokey. I wish instead of pieces of candy I could have given them clean water, three meals a day, and a clean pair of clothes. Wishful thinking, perhaps, but I knew if I ever went back, something had to change.
Funny thing...I had every intention of this being a blog about health care and the clinic. But God tends to put things on my heart that burn so strongly, I cannot put them aside. Several months ago, I finally read the book, When Helping Hurts. It was one of books I always wanted to read, but hadn't ever gotten around to actually doing it. I was under the impression that this was a book about how helping others can be emotionally taxing and how to keep oneself from carrying the burdens of the world. Of course it would be a sort of self-help book about MY needs, right? Well, I soon found out that is not at all what the book is about...to the contrary, the book is about how people who are trying to help actually hurt the people they are helping...ouch! But God always knows what He is doing, and it was exactly what I needed to read and address during this season of life. How do you go to another country, step into a different culture, see the things you see, and do something about it....while at the same time refrain from making judgments, imposing Western ideals, appearing superior, and acting out of pity....it's definitely not easy and I will say on behalf of the Western world, especially the Christians, we have not always done it very well and have consequently burned a lot of bridges. A line from the book where the author is telling a story about Uganda...."Finally, there was me, the mzungu, and all which that word represents: money, power, education, money, superiority, and money." While in the U.S. I may look borderline ethnic due to my mixed background, in Africa, I am white. I am a mzungu. No question. I use to feel really guilty about that, and there are moments I still do. But during my stay in Kenya this go-around, God really put it on my heart that guilt is not a desirable or fruitful emotion, and that there nothing wrong about being American, rich, or educated - but that there was something wrong with feeling superior, hoarding wealth, or using education solely for personal benefit. It was a really freeing realization, and gets at the heart of why I started Imani.
Typically, I am not overly moved by "cliche" sayings that inscribed on various merchandise, plastered on social media, and found on the inside of Hallmark greeting cards. Yet there are a few quotes that never get old for me, and have managed to hold onto their intended meaning and ability to move and inspire. Mother Teresa's quote...We cannot do great things on this Earth, only small things with great love...is one of them. "Small things, great love" has been like a personal mantra for me the past few years. It has continued to remind me that it is more important to evaluate where your heart is than how much you have accomplished. It reiterates the message that anyone can do small things, and therefore, everyone can make a difference. Since I founded Imani Care International in July, I have received a lot of personal praise. I know people mean well and I appreciate the encouragement. But I didn't start a non-profit organization to add it to my resume or to be a better Christian. I did it because I had to. Let me explain that a bit. No, no one told me I had to do this. In fact, for a long time, no one even knew this was on my mind! I was scared. I normally just stick to the things I am good at, and I wasn't sure this was one of those things. I didn't want to fail. I didn't want to let down the people in Kenya, but selfishly, I did not think I could bear exposing the depths of my heart to the world and not have anyone else "catch the vision." But God persisted, that still small voice the Bible talks about? Well, God still uses it because He gently nudged me and eventually my heart softened, my anxieties waned, and my faith multiplied. This dream was no longer my dream...it was God's plan. Looking back on the past 8 months, I just smile because God is so faithful and so present. Occasionally I get a bit stressed and overwhelmed, but I am constantly being reminded that Imani really is just a small extension of God's work and presence around the world. And to be a part of it is more rewarding than anything else.
Am I trying to say everyone should start a non-profit or go to Africa? No, not necessarily. But it is my hope and prayer that we don't sit on the sidelines and bear witness to the realities of our world when we all have some capacity to do something small with a lot of love. You know what meant the most to the people I spent time with in Kenya? It wasn't the medical supplies I brought or the fact that I am from California (and therefore a celebrity) or the possibility that I could fix all their problems. It was that I came and was willing to spend time with them, in the clinic, and in the slum. That a mzungu from "the best state in America" would fly on many planes to come sit with a bedridden patient in the slum. It wasn't heroic. It was a simple act of love.
P.S. I promise I will write more about the clinic & healthcare in Kenya soon :)
