Paths Intersected

I left brothers and sisters-new friends-when I left Tanzania. I got my first email from one of them just yesterday morning and I wished nothing more than to be able to text Stella back and ask if she wanted to meet for lunch at the cafeteria that day. There I would have my usual lunch of wali maharage (rice and beans) and maybe a Mirinda-Pineapple and we could just sit and talk through the heat of the day. No agenda, no challenge besides that of discovering more of her story, sharing mine, and letting God lead us further unto Him.

That was a lot of what my days were like in Tanzania. Monday through Friday our schedule was mostly this: wake up, take a cold shower if I had not the night before, get ready for the day, eat American cereal for breakfast, brush my teeth (with bottled water), join everyone for the morning devotional, leave the house around 9:30am, get dropped off at chuo (campus) by 10am and then just go (in pairs) and be, with nothing more on our to-do list than having "significant conversations," until 3pm when we all met back up and headed back to the house. We spent our first couple of days getting our bearings under us, adjusting to the openness and hopsitable nature of the Tanzanians (and Ugandans) we were meeting-who after just a few minutes would invite us to their dorm rooms to visit with them and say how much they were going to miss us when we left.

Day in and day out, we visited and talked, danced and laughed, shared with and learned from these students. And what's even more exciting is that these were girls we introduced to our new friends who make their life's work about these students. New friends like Keri, Marissa, and Whitney-Gary and Carol-Travis and Charity-incredible individuals who have committed their lives to doing what we did for 10 days for at least two years, giving up a lot of comfort to be there, trusting God for more than I could imagine for my own life.. They lead small group bible studies, attend evening fellowships, and just do life with these students; it was an neat experience to plug into their work and to know that, upon leaving, everything would continue on and we had somehow served in making new connections.

And all we did was make ourselves available, so the challenge for me is to do the same here at "home" in my work and my studies, but most importantly, in my relationships. Like today, I spontaneously had lunch with a friend I happened to pass by on the street-a friend who I hadn't seen in awhile and is always a wonderful source of good conversation. I shared a few stories about my trip and realized, after a couple of days of feeling weighed down by the thought of trying to express them all, how excited I am to see what these stories inspire in the lives of those around me. Stories are incredible tools that reach people in different ways; and how much more powerful when shared at the intersection of paths like mine and Stella's, or mine and Adam's, or mine and Keri's!

I think, too, what made it much more possible to see God at work in these new friendships was that in Tanzania, we lost our sense of self because the people there are so group-oriented. They are accomadating to guests and live with a very strong sense of community. (Not nearly so to outright tourists, though, as a mzungu (white person, usually non-resident) is milked for just about all the locals think they're worth.) When a stranger sits down at a table full of friends, he or she will, more often times than not, be welcomed into their conversation. I am afraid that happens less here in America because we are so self-aware, so individualistic, that group boundaries become very well-defined and not everyone is worth your time. Most times that keeps me from initiating conversation; there, though it was awkard at first for us, it was easier and felt more like what meeting people and making friends should be like.

So now I am remedying that experience with the reality of life here in America (atleast I'm in Tennessee, right?)-and already I am finding it challenging. But I would rather see that it could be different than continue on feeling content in the bubble. There are so many people in this world... so many stories left to be told and made. Why would we turn down the opportunity to share and to discover, even if it means taking a step outside yourself, or losing sense of your self altogether? It is a freeing experience, not only to the degree in which your life is enriched but also in the sense that you worry less about what people are thinking about you becuase you're not out to prove or show yourself worthy-only interested. Because I don't know about you, but when a person wants to hear my story, the last thing I worry about is how cool, or intelligent, or successful that person is.

I care simply that they care.