Iowarish Girl: Lost in Translation

Before I'm even able to write about the incredible experiences of my trip to Africa, I find myself stuck in a rut of "now what?" What do I do with what I've seen and experienced now that I'm back? What do I do about anything and everything now that I'm back?

Bare with me, as I will, of course, and am excited to share the experiences of my trip. But, momentarily, I find myself lost in a reality that no longer seems real... Its hard to explain, but I feel as if I saw there, more of a reality that I've ever witnessed in my life... much more than our People Magazine gossiping, beer drinking, American Idol watching, Pinterest pinning, videos of cute kittens sharing, political ranting, sports obsessed, have the most, look the best, don't do anything out of the norm to draw attention to yourself, and everything that happens is about me, me, me, selfish and naive culture that has consumed our country. (Not to say that I'm not guilty of every single one of these things). But its easy to see and feel that we've somewhere lost a sense of what is really real...

In Africa, things were/are real. A real need, people just surviving day to day, real hunger, need of shelter, the commonality of death, the struggle for life, the lack of money and jobs, or clean water, but in spite of that a beautiful sense of gratefulness, smiles so sincere they they bring tears to your eyes, children that heartbreakingly cling to you just longing to feel any shred of love, an unconditional welcomeness from the villagers of hugs, laughter, and celebration that even your family wouldn't be able to express if you were found after missing for a year. A night sky that nearly brought me to my knees in absolute astonishment that anything seen with my merely human eyes could ever be so overwhelmingly beautiful. And a sense of God so powerful that you could feel it even in something as insignificant as the wind blowing through the long wheat colored grass on a cool dry morning.

So the reality that I return to, that once seemed so important, no longer seems real at all in comparison. And along with it comes a sense of despair and loneliness that I hadn't experienced in a long time. I receive a phone call from my brother when I arrive in Atlanta that all hell has broken loose in my absence and that my father was looking again at prison time, luckily the situation had resolved in a much less form of sanction, and all without me needing to get thrown into the middle of the drama which is what usually would happen, so I was grateful not to be a part of it.

With that weighing on my mind, along with the exhaustion of traveling and the trip itself, I arrive in Des Moines, my home base, not nearly as excited to be back as my teammates who's families were waiting with open arms at the arrival of their loved ones coming home. I, in turn, know that no one will be there waiting for me. Which was fine, until the weight of coming from such an uplifting trip of gratefulness and servitude, back to, well, nothing really, finally set in... And left me wondering if I'll ever have someone in my life to share such experiences with and who longs for me to come back from afar. Thus making me feel even more despair for the past relationship mistakes I'd made, that constantly weigh on my heart,... (I cringe to even confess such vulnerability and display of weakness but honesty is unfortunately one of the burdens that comes with writing.)

The trip, along with its most amazing experiences, was very emotionally, physically, and most of all mentally draining. Not to mention the jet lag and time difference of 7 hours and trying to cope with all I'd learned. Much time has been spent sleeping since my return and an awesome trick I picked up is that lately I can start crying at the drop of a hat about nothing... :/...still hoping its just from the exhaustion.

Friends and family talk to me about conflicts and what's happened since I've been gone. "Can you believe she did that?" "What should I do about what they said?" "I can't believe people's nerve to do something like this!"... I try to listen but my mind seems to wander off questioning if any of it really even matters when people are out there with real problems, just trying to survive day to day, wondering where their next meal will come from or if they have a place to sleep that night, and still in all of that being grateful...

P.S. By no means, am I trying to be one of those people who are like "I went to Africa for two weeks and now I know everything there is to know about the world and you know nothing!" or "Your problems aren't problems, try living in Africa!" or "Oh, what did you say was bothering you? That person who cut you off this morning? Well, I saw a dead man lying in the middle of the road in Africa, hit by a car, his body lying there for 40 minutes before anyone came or bothered to cover his face! Sorry about getting cut off, you must be devastated!!" or "You went to a lake and got wasted this summer... that's cool... Oh me, I went to Africa, fed hungry children, gave people glasses who couldn't see, you know, stuff like that..." ;) Ok, this is the one time I get to use that last one...But we obviously take so much for granted in America that its almost sickening. Even me moping about no family or friends able to make it to roll out the red carpet for me at the airport at 10:30am on a Wednesday! Get over it Wendi!! At least I have a family and friends! And, a lot of people in this world, probably most, will never even get to see an airport let alone be able to afford to travel somewhere!

I do miss Africa, though! The friends I met, the culture, the African people, the children, the hopefulness, the open grasslands, the amazing wildlife, the gray mountains against the bright blue sky, the beautiful nights, and the overall sense that its ok to just be yourself, and that, that self, was there to give and serve. It was constantly a good feeling and the most amazing thing I've ever been able to experience in my life! And I'm hoping that it'll be something I'm able to show in future posts. One thing I can see now is that this trip, was not about "me, me, me," but it was about Africa, and about God.

I explained it once that its as if you are a puzzle piece taken out of your puzzle and, while away, your piece has been transformed in such a way that when you come back and return to the puzzle, your piece no longer fits... but in a good way...