When I first arrived in Chad, I didn't like it at all. I wanted to go home and I wanted to get away from all of the crickets that hop around in my room every night. I wanted to take a good shower instead of stand in the dirty water that plugs the drain of our shower and spreads around the floor the longer I take to wash. I wanted to be in Sunny San Diego and get away from all of the mosquitos that kept feasting off of the white meat on my legs and arms. I cried myself to sleep at night and I even told my mom that I wanted to go home, until one day Yesenia came into our SM hut and said, "Let's think about this. Why don't we like it here?" I thought about it for a long time, and I realized that my reasons were completely selfish. I don't know if you've ever been in a strange country where you feel like your purpose may have been misread before you left to be there. I was almost at the point where I was going to make the decision to go back home and be in the comfort of my own home, family, life. But besides the fact that Yesenia started to make the wheels in my head turn, no one at home would let me come home.
Family and friends told me to wait it out, to stay for as long as I could and if I still couldn't handle it, then I could THINK about coming home. So I did what I was told. I still wasn't too happy, but little by little I started to adjust. I used to stay up until I smashed all of the crickets that I could see in my hut. Now, I have made peace with them. I'm still not a big fan of lizards whenever they're around, but I let them roam around our SM hut until they get too close. THEN I have to push them out with a broom. I have even bought some traditional African clothing to try and blend in. Of course, my white skin gives me away. Yesenia and I washed our clothes in buckets last Sunday and the women who were washing next to us seemed to really like that. They just stared at us and smiled, but they told us "Bon travail" when we were finished, which means good job. We've gone to the market several times and have learned a few French words too!
But out of all of these nice things that we have been able to do, the hardest thing that I had to do was help with the food distribution this morning. Yesenia and I and two other boys named Poppa and Appo work with the hospitals food distribution on Monday mornings to feed the handicapped, blind, and the poor. Last week we had 50 people come to the gate to get food, but today they said we had over 75, although it looked like over 100. They say that the amount of people that come just keeps growing and growing. Today, we ran out of food to give to the people (beans, rice, and a bar of soap) and we had at least 20 bags, with about over 40 people left over.
I don't know if you've ever had to make tough decisions, but I believe we really don't understand the depth of the kinds of decisions we make. Today, as the last of our food was being distributed, Poppa told ME to pick who would get the last bags that we had. He couldn't decide, and none of us wanted to do it. But it had to be done. Deciding who would get to eat that day was one of the worst jobs I've ever had because I don't know who needed it the most. I don't know if some of these people are telling the truth and I don't know anyone's needs. What gives me the right to choose who would get a bag of food that day? Everyone looked at me as I chose people one by one, and when all was finished, I had to walk away, without looking back.
I've never had to make decisions like that before. Most of the decisions I make are about me and my future, but when your job is to have to make decisions for the future of others, who are we to decide?
Family and friends told me to wait it out, to stay for as long as I could and if I still couldn't handle it, then I could THINK about coming home. So I did what I was told. I still wasn't too happy, but little by little I started to adjust. I used to stay up until I smashed all of the crickets that I could see in my hut. Now, I have made peace with them. I'm still not a big fan of lizards whenever they're around, but I let them roam around our SM hut until they get too close. THEN I have to push them out with a broom. I have even bought some traditional African clothing to try and blend in. Of course, my white skin gives me away. Yesenia and I washed our clothes in buckets last Sunday and the women who were washing next to us seemed to really like that. They just stared at us and smiled, but they told us "Bon travail" when we were finished, which means good job. We've gone to the market several times and have learned a few French words too!
But out of all of these nice things that we have been able to do, the hardest thing that I had to do was help with the food distribution this morning. Yesenia and I and two other boys named Poppa and Appo work with the hospitals food distribution on Monday mornings to feed the handicapped, blind, and the poor. Last week we had 50 people come to the gate to get food, but today they said we had over 75, although it looked like over 100. They say that the amount of people that come just keeps growing and growing. Today, we ran out of food to give to the people (beans, rice, and a bar of soap) and we had at least 20 bags, with about over 40 people left over.
I don't know if you've ever had to make tough decisions, but I believe we really don't understand the depth of the kinds of decisions we make. Today, as the last of our food was being distributed, Poppa told ME to pick who would get the last bags that we had. He couldn't decide, and none of us wanted to do it. But it had to be done. Deciding who would get to eat that day was one of the worst jobs I've ever had because I don't know who needed it the most. I don't know if some of these people are telling the truth and I don't know anyone's needs. What gives me the right to choose who would get a bag of food that day? Everyone looked at me as I chose people one by one, and when all was finished, I had to walk away, without looking back.
I've never had to make decisions like that before. Most of the decisions I make are about me and my future, but when your job is to have to make decisions for the future of others, who are we to decide?