Moment

December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). 

This had taken me all day to ponder over one exact moment which epitomizes my year. It had to be while in Africa--that was understood. But what moment? The nights hanging out talking to our two wonderful cooks? The elderly gorup who clapped and sang at our presence? Rafting the Nile? The days in the sweltering sun walking back to our house on the dirt road? Or perhaps the "boda" (motorcycle) rides from place to place? All these moments filled me with energy, but I need one moment which left me with a wonder for life.

 

Orphanage. Sitting in the dirt. Collin, a boy of about 14, teaching me logrhythms. Drawing words and numbers with a stick in that dirt. Sitting under a towering tree--one of the few providing shade from the sweltering sun. We were at the orphanage that day because we were constructing the chicken coop: the coop would house 200 chicks which could then provide eggs to sell at the local market. That money would send these kids to school.

The work for the day was finished, and we were relaxing in the shade--doing nothing more than enjoying life. Surprisingly, the air felt silent: usually you could hear indistinguishable talking, but right now was silent. But you could feel something in the air: a connection among people. We, the volunteers, were so grateful to be here right now--to  be given this opportunity to possibly change lives. And the kids were grateful to have someone there to care.

As said, Collin was teaching me logrhythms. Me who has the opportunity for an education, me who chose to conveniently snooze through those days in Math 1060. I made a choice not to listen, and now I had to tell Collin that no, I don't know how to do logs. I felt a tinge of... not humiliation, nor was it shame. I felt disappointment in myself for neglecting the opportunity to learn when it was such a simple blessing which some people don't have ready access to.

Sitting under the tree, I felt a nostalgic I'm in Africa moment. Looking around at the lush green trees, seeing the bungalow hut type of housing, watching the kids happily playing despite their ripped clothing, and helping cook food over a fire put life in perspective. All the technological toys sitting back in America don't matter. Being here, at this orphanage with these kids enjoying the breeze across me as Collin teaches trigonometry to me in the dirt... this is what matters. People. Being willing to learn from someone younger than myself and being receptive to what I am being taught--be it mathematics or priorities.