This one’s for you, Becky, WildAtHeart woman.
*****
One of the things I cherish most about life in developing countries is the simultaneous simplicity and complexity of most matters. Take the case of one of our guards at the guesthouse. Midway through one workday, he pointed out to our human resource manager – not one of our nurses, mind you – that he was suffering from a severe burn on his hand. The skin was pink, blistered and angry following a fire that occurred while he was while lighting a lantern. The fire got away from him, burning his hand and taking down his grass-roofed hut. This is the simple part. The complex part is multi-fold: 1) He was asking our organization – his employer – for assistance in the form of medical care, and the replacement of household goods, such as blankets, sleeping mats, jerry cans for water carrying. Employers, particularly NGOs, are often asked by their employees here for assistance in matters that fall outside of what we Westerners would consider “work realm,” in this case the household goods which we typically don’t dole out. 2) It is likely he stole from our fuel store the very fuel that caused the fire. 3) When I asked him about the injury, he held up his hand for me and said, “God is good.”
His statement has stuck with me in the weeks since I heard it, if for no other reason that he said it without provocation and without need for validation -- as if it were fact. And in Western Equatoria State of South Sudan, affectionally known as Zande-land for the majority tribe of Azande, it is fact. The Zande don’t behave as traditional Christians likely believe they should – about 25% of the men, particularly among the older generations, have multiple wives; men and women are quite premiscuous; they like their drink; and the men believe women are to be beaten for any old reason that comes to mind. Even Catholic priests believe the definition of celibacy is simply not marrying (read: sleeping with someone, provided it’s not obvious, is “permissible.”) But say what you will, God is ever present in their minds and thoughts. After being steeped in this mindset for months, I have absorbed some of the mentality – the goods bits at least.
Religion has never been an easy topic for me. I believe in God, always have – even if sometimes my faith waivers a bit. What I don’t believe in is the separation that religion can bring. I refuse to believe that Christians are more blessed and saved than Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus or any other religion, or that any given denomination within any given religion is more superior than the next. So while I don’t necessarily subscribe to any given religion, I do subscribe to spirituality, to God. And so it is that I believe the most unfortunate string of recent events in my life is “Godsent” (which incidentally is a popular first name here.)
Due to funding problems, I have been laid off from my job. My final day was Oct. 1. And as at much as I feel at loose ends, I believe everything happens for a good reason. I have no regrets about having come to South Sudan, about having had to essentially volunteer for my first three months of employment to gain a contract, about having worked for a struggling organization. Perhaps this is the universe’s way of forcing me to look higher for something better and truer. What I do know is this: I have worked too hard and come too far to get to Africa to give up now. I am choosing to remain in Juba, the capital of South Sudan for a bit of networking opportunities. If nothing readily materializes, I will shift to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, where my friend, Erin, from grad school, has offered to host me until I find work with in Africa.
If this philosophy can be judged by the number of blessings that fall into the wake, then I am spot on. The size of what I’m calling the Miranda in Africa Critical Response Team is impressive. Melissa has offered helpful career advice and made connections that allowed me to forward my CV on to potential employers, as has Anna and Andrew. Marion did her level best to get me a job at her organization, despite her rebuffed efforts. Richard has taken me in, providing bed and board. Erin is on stand by, ready to do the same in Tanzania. And Terah has come to the social scene rescue, planning an upcoming birthday party.
Everything happens for a reason. I know that as surely as the sun sets on the grass-roofed huts of South Sudan, that the reason I have lost my job is simultaneously simple and complex. It will reveal itself to me in due time, all in due time.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
South Sudan: links of interest
Miranda