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Published: November 30th -0001
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It has been such a long time since I’ve written a blog. I’ve spent time writing in my journal and a few other scribbles here and there, but have missed connecting with all of you back home through the blog.
The second year of service has its own set of challenges and rewards. Some of the challenges for me have been in the process of accepting that my impact seems to be smaller in scope than I first thought. I knew coming in that working in behavior change is a slow, uneven, and often mysterious process. As individuals, our capacity for change and the timing of that change is very unique. I think it is only magnified when looking at societal change. I know that I am making some differences one individual at a time, and other than the days where my ego pokes her big nose into the picture to whine, I find that one step and one person at a time is exactly as it should be. However, on those whiney days nothing is ever good enough, and it is always someone else’s fault. I won’t deny that I have plenty of whiney days even if they are
confined to my private thoughts a fair amount of the time. Fortunately I came across a new antidote that seems to be working well for me so far, when I’m mindful enough to administer it, that is. It is a variation of the Serenity Prayer.
I came across it online while doing some research as part of completing continuing education credits. so that I can quickly reinstate my substance abuse counseling license when I get home where I will have a washing machine, a car, running water, lattes, smooth sheets… Wow, planning for life back in the USA is a story in and of itself. I would blame someone else for this digression, but I can’t because I just injected my antidote which is, “God grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change, the courage to change the one I can, and the wisdom to know that it is me.” I am so grateful to the anonymous creator of this! It treats more ailments than broad spectrum antibiotics.
This practice of acceptance is both a challenge and a reward. It makes me come face to face with some aspects of myself that I’d happily keep
We Can Run, but We Can't HIde
"Sure. We can all fit in a Volkswagen Beetle." shoved in the closet with our large arachnid friends, under the rug with the sand that forever blows in through the windows and beneath the door, or in the mosquito infested pit latrine that has recently been in frequent use because we haven’t had a consistent flow of tap water for a couple of months or more. But try as I might, these tendencies to judge and to blame gather themselves on their fuzzy little legs to crawl out of the closet, or Steve occasionally shakes the rug out exposing the pile I’ve so carefully hidden under it, or as fate would have it they come back to bit me on the butt as I begrudgingly bare it to use the outdoor facilities. In short, I can run, but I can’t hide, and my favorite, both as an adage and a book title, wherever you go, there you are. So here I am and there I’ll be when I come home.
Now, I’ll tell you more about rewards, which most often come without warning. One of the perks of having erratically scheduled bus service between Kopong and Gaborone is that we often hitch rides and meet some wonderful people.
Hmm. A New Hiding Place
"Finally, some place big enough to hold it all!" Recently I was consuming myself with thoughts of being unappreciated, inconvenienced, homesick etc, etc, after over an hour of waiting for a ride back from the grocery at the edge of the capital city. We’d been passed up by three Kopong buses that were already filled to legal capacity plus a couple dozen folks or more, when we decided to catch the next combi to Mmatseta, a small village a few kilometers off the road leading to Kopong. We figured we could drop off at the turn and hitch or walk the last 10K to Kopong. At least we’d be refreshed by the breeze from the van's open windows. So we wedged ourselves and four heavy canvas shopping bags into the next road worn Toyota headed in that direction. By the time we again stood at the roadside, it was getting hot and the bags were feeling several pounds heavier as refrigerated items were warming in the heat. With not a lot of traffic on the road, it was disheartening to have the first four cars pass us by, but after walking a ways and waiting a bit, the next car stopped for us. The young man told us that his home village was Molepolole, but that he is working for the mines in Jwaneng. After asking where we were from, he then asked if we were Peace Corps Volunteers. When we said we were, he went on to express how wonderful he thinks it is that we are here to help so much. Rather than drop us off at the Kopong turn, he said he’d take us to our house. When I asked if that wasn’t inconvenient for him his response was, “After you have come all the way from America to help us, it is the least I can do.”
After coming all the way from American to help here, not whining about it is the least I can do. But, just to be sure, I’ll take another dose. “God grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change, the courage to change the one I can, and the wisdom to know that it is me.”
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Debbie
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Sometimes it's the most unexpected, small things that are the best, yeh? Had a wonderful retreat with Sangha members in McCall last weekend. Missed you guys.