Learning How To Rain Dance
Writing by Jes on Saturday, 22 of November , 2008 at 12:26 pm
The lesson is not whether you can survive the storm, it is only if you can learn to dance in the rain.
It’s these words that resonated me in the midst of a dreary day. These words that reawakened a sense, a purpose, a prize in the position that had been graced upon me. It is so easy to get suck in the Christmas syndrome of what Santa didn’t give you in the dawn of opportunity.
I take note of this from my young niece when last Christmas, she grabbed every present with her name on it furiously and then in the midst of tattered wrapping paper she sat in the middle of the room and cried. Cried so hard we all wanted to know what was the problem so we could find ways to solve it. And she finally admitted that she wanted a laptop computer, just like her Auntie Jes. Commendable yes, but she had only seen the computer for two days and this new want was not in a place where she could receive it. So she sat in the midst of new clothes, new electronic keyboard, new games, new dolls, new toys upset about the one gift that wasn’t among the crowd.
And it was a night in Liberia, where I am trying to stretch my toes because my high heels aren’t broken in, upset because the curves I normally can sport are bloated out of proportion. Tired and angry because for the fifth straight day, I can’t access internet for longer than ten minutes, praying to God for a miracle donor to come and purchase my books so I don’t have to worry about my American bank accounts. Exhausted due to the fact I have been smiling faces all day that introduce them selves by letting you know that they are somebody, and your not. It wasn’t that good. It wasn’t that good of a day, Ice Cube.
So I am standing at a dignified party, panties scrunching my waistline, with my glass half-raised, waiting to gulp this piece of wine down so I can get a free work-related buzz, when this man stammers some things out and announced that his grandmother told him one “the lesson is not whether you can survive the storm, it is only if you can learn to dance in the rain.” And to that all glasses raised high to the rebirth and reemergence of Liberia, and my glass stood still.
Because it hit home. I cry when I am inconvienced. When things don’t go my way. When I don’t know the next answer. I am upset because something isn’t working the right way. The people in Liberia don’t have it. They don’t have what I claim is rightfully mine. And here I am in a country, stuck in the first stages of survival and a hard day for me is not having my Internet fire up when I get to work. In retrospect, I had to give counseling to a person whose mother is disabled, brother is crazy, and he in his third year of college is a caregiver whose family is quilting him for turning his back on them because he lost his second job which was partly their income and he is spending to much time in school.
I am standing in the middle of a country, throwing a temper tantrum because of a few items I’m not used to acting up. Because I can’t download new music, my new outfit didn’t have the ribbon on it like I asked, because I’m short a few friends and people out here are really hungry…really, really hungry. They pay $60 Liberian Dollars to watch television for an hour, and I am mad because I don’t know who won America’s Next Top Model. They don’t have. I mean they really don’t have it, never had it, don’t know about it…and I take it for granted.
Example, its really hard for me to remember to give my leftovers away to my staff, not because I’m evil…but, honestly how many times do we dump food, or let it waste in the refrigerator. Abundance is a bad habit we have in the states.
The one thing I know is that being out here is God’s blessing and an amazing way to get perspective of what life is and what it is about. It’s not about me coming out here and just blessing Liberia via AMEU, with my work talents (hence the reason that I came out here) but instead, for me to learn. So like my niece, I am in the midst of presents all around, and I am taking time to open each one of them…. I only hope that in the end, I don’t cry about what I didn’t get but I when I find myself in a rut, a hard place, in a room wanting to cry for home…. I find some time to dance in the rain, grateful for what I have.
Category: November 08
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