The Tragedy of it all.

My dad’s wife (step-mother?) Peggy just got back from a trip to Nigeria with a travel nursing program. She shot me an e-mail talking a little about what was going on and how it was. A line from that has stuck with me.

She said “They are richer than we are in many ways, if you know what I mean.”

I do know what you mean.

The people here, at least in Lesotho, are truly amazing. They have a sense of community I have never experienced before. They do things for each other that in America we wouldn’t even think of let alone do. They are friendly, welcoming, hard working. The potential is incredible!

And this is where the tragedy of it all really lies.

In the CHED program it is my job to “facilitate” projects. That means I just help get them organized and off the ground but leave the real work to the Basotho. In my short time here I have experienced that potential I spoke of, and seen how little initiative many have. To make an unfair, blanket criticism of the entire culture, most of this amazing potential is wasted. Largely because most people can “made due” with the little they have many don’t even try to better their position. There’s no ambition to make their community a better place, to work hard to make everyone’s lives improve. You see how much they could accomplish if they stuck with it and tried.

But they don’t.

This is hard hard work.

Keep in mind that this is just a generalization and as with most generalizations it is unfair and not a true representation of all involved. There are many many Basotho who do work hard for their community, who really do understand and utilize their potential. But the few who don’t really set the rest back.

An Ode to Life

Life is a strange thing. As we stand on the precipice of today we look out at the horizon of our lives and see the mountain tops of jobs, the vast Oceans of marriage, and the open fields of possibilities. We see these obstacles and opportunities and recognize them for what they are. We use our rational abilities to break down the mountain, find the path to the top, understand the value and danger of each peak, each path, each cliff face. We understand the oceans can bring us both happiness and disaster, we realize the horizon is a dangerous, glorious place.

So we plan. We plot. We think about it.

Yet some times as our heads are turned upwards, our minds milling on the possibilities, as we diligently march toward the future, we forget about the snakes in the grass. Those things that have no part in your life and you none in theirs. Dangers that are happy to leave you be and you’d as soon ignore. When you least expect it, happily trudging along, you step on the poor beast and the Snake bites you in the ass.

Let me assure you, when a snake bites you in the ass you forget about the mountains and oceans.

I posted something like this on facebook maybe a year or so ago. I often think about it, the analogy of the snake and the challenge of the mountains. It’s really unfair, I happen to be a fan of snakes in general. (They have always been a symbol of wisdom). I thought I would re-write it and re-post it.

I think about it because it often strikes me as true. People spent a lot of their lives thinking about the future, stressing about the “big things” in life, yet the issues that cause us the most trouble are more often then not the ones we don’t even notice. They are things that wouldn’t make it into an A&E special about our lives. These things are seemingly inconsequential. But they hurt.

Its been a hard November for me. A lot has happened that has kept me on my toes and out of bed. Stress, worry, pressure. Things have “gone down”, much of which I don’t feel like sharing in a public forum. No one thing is really of much consequence but the sum of all the parts adds up fast.

It has been kind of nice to be around other PCV’s and be able to forget my worries for a bit, but like most things it only masks the problems. I still have to figure stuff out, work out (wet) problems, and come to conclusions.

The ball lands in my court just when I thought it was half-time.

My Bane

It was Ben Franklyn I think who said “Beer is proof that god loves us.” Or something along those lines. Theological issues aside, being a 24 year old male, I’m inclined to agree! (cheers!) But if Beer is proof of God’s love, then the devil has devised something even more devious to prove his hate. The Rooster.

I recall growing up seeing cartoon images of this noble creature sitting atop the barn, watching diligently for the coming of the new day. The rooster, lord of the barnyard, herald of Apollo, would cock-his-doodle-doo the moment the golden life giving orb crested the horizon. The humble farmer, sound asleep next to his homely wife, would cheerfully awaken at the call and begin an honest days work, the wife none the wiser.

Propaganda.

Lies.

The truth is much more chilling and not near as noble. For starters, the farmer, awaken from blissful slumber would be angry. The rooster, never content to simply call his message from the safety of the barn roof, dwells in the lowly places, waiting in ambush. He sneaks his feathery way under the farmer’s very window, to ensure this harpy’s cry will reach its unsuspecting victim with maximum effect. And like the cry of the harpy, the farmer, sailing happily through slumberland, is drawn to the smashing rocks of wakefulness. All the happy thoughts and dreams, all his hopes and aspirations, are doomed form the moment this foul foul begins his days work. Yes, this bringer of doom is a master at his craft, finding the perfect angle, the ideal pitch, the precise moment when your dreams are sweetest and thus you are most vulnerable. Ripped from Slumberland, Shanghaied back to bitter reality, the dreamer is left to chase the wisps of fading drams.

And the real tragedy of it all, the fact that changes this simple event from a mere nuisance to an out right act of evil, is that the sun, that sweet, warm, wonderful orb, is still an hour from rising.

I have no love for the rooster.

Election Day! Woot!

I must say, it is strange not waking up well before dawn to work the day away. Today is the big day. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, I would say the fate of the world rests in the balance!

And I’m not there to help.

If Obama wins today, it will mean something great to the world and to myself. To put it into perspective, an Obama victory would mean the first progressive-liberal President in my lifetime. I will finally be able to see what true liberalism (in the modern American sense) can do for the world. Lets recap.

I was born in 1984. My Commander and Chief at that time was none other than the great conservative hero Ronald Regan! Luckily (as I have learned) I don’t remember much of him. I imagine I wasn’t a happy infant. Nor would I have been a happy young child if I understood what was going on. Next George Bush the First then became President. My first memories are of King Bush the First. I recall a few snippets of news relating to the first Gulf War. I recall a number of public address’ interrupting my nighttime MacGyver watching with my mom though I couldn’t tell you what was happening.

Then, in 3rd grade, Bill Clinton was elected! For the record, I voted for Ross Perrot (sp?) because I felt sorry for him. (I felt he should get at least ONE vote in my 3rd grade class!) Now Clinton, in all his great Democratness wasn’t really a progressive liberal. However much Rush Limbaugh might have wanted us to believe he was a Communist or Evil Socialist, the truth is he was moderate. NAFTA, not really progressive. And with all the shutdowns of congress, he was a stalling tactic at best, holding back the tide of Conservative bull-crap (self censorship, good job!) for a few years. So much potential.

And now we have George Bush the Second. I hardly need to go into details about the evil’s brought down on us by King Bush the Second.

By all accounts, tomorrow will be the beginning of the Obama years. A true progressive, though pragmatic (taking after my own heart). The potential is great and the optimism is even greater.

So I would like to make this warning. At the heart of it, Mr. Obama is still just one man. His power, however great, is still limited. It would be folly for us to think that now, with one office filled, we will have the utopia we have all been dreaming of. It would be a mistake for us to assume great change will sweep the nation on Nov. 5th. The change that needs to happen is only fractionally possible through the oval office, and will require a level of commitment and hard work we haven’t seen in decades (if at all). The true change rests in us, the people. The work that needs to be done must be done by you. We need to be the change we want to see in the world.

The real work, has just begun.