Peace on Earth

So I finally pulled out my Christmas tunes on the old ipod .(Correction- new ipod, thanks to Uncle Jeff). If I was back in the states, I would have been listening to these for weeks now, taking time in the afternoon to brush up on the piano so that Grandpa’s version of “silent night” would ring loud and clear on Christmas night. I’m someone who lives for the Christmas spirit, but this year, I’ve been in denial a bit. I can wake up in the morning, not wanting to get out of bed because all I am thinking about is what our Christmas tree looks like this year, the smiling faces of my family, and how this will be the first year in my life that I will not curl up on the couch with my family before going to bed on Christmas eve to read aloud our ancient, heirloom book, “The night before Christmas”. I’m missing them, I’m missing all of you, and lately, I’ve really been missing my grandmother, “Nanie,” who is still present in all of my Christmas memories of childhood.
But then eventually, I get out of bed, go for a run, eat my porriage and arrive at work. I greet Irene, my fun-loving co-worker and friend Sali, my supervisor, Kassoum, and all the sick folks. I hang out with Irene as she gets ready, late as always. I play with her son, Noelle, who’s first birthday is coming this Christmas. He can almost say my name now (it comes out as “Tata”). I weigh pregnant women or some of the most adorable babies I’ve ever seen with their little winter caps. I ride my bike out into the villages to find lost patients. I rejoice when the mother of a severely malnourished child made the 23 kilometer journey to seek help in our office. After discovering that the child was not only malnourished, but dangerously dehydrated, I showed her how to make homemade Oral rehydration solution, which the child eagerly drank, much to the mother’s delight. And suddenly, I’m not thinking about Christmas anymore. It’s still summer isn’t it? The world I left has stopped for me. I’m distracted by the life I love here. And at night, after my run with Shaka, my dinner of macaroni or potatoes, my warm bucket bath, I almost fear going back into my hut alone, letting myself remember Christmas and everything back home.

But tonight, I’ve faced it. The Christmas carols are playing. I’m singing here, alone in my hut. And I’ve realized that I never really forgot the season after all. I feel myself there with you all, but even more so, I feel you all here with me. The love that you have for me, is never ever forgotten. It never leaves my heart. I want you all to remember that. Even if you don’t hear from me for a long time, we are still connected. Distance is abolished at Christmastime- we are all close right now- to each other and to Bethlehem. So why be alone? Night has fallen. I take out my guitar, and greet my sidekicks, who have proudly crafted a drum out of an old gorge and some animal skin. I teach them how to sing jingle bells- which with their limited English, was almost too hysterical for me to handle. I’m not alone here. I’m not outside of the loving care of a family.

So to answer Bandaid’s age old question “Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?”, the answer is, yes. They know. And in my village, the Christians and the Muslims celebrate it side by side. The zylophones will play just like on Tabaski, we’ll eat meat but this time- pig. As far as the spirit of giving- everyone here gives everything they have to their neighbors anyway, that there really is no difference. An NGO came to the village yesterday, as close as we are going to get to Santa Claus. They had come last year, to take pictures of the children, promising them gifts. Dozens of kids walked away with new sneakers. Beautiful Nike sneakers, all of them as big as boats. The surplus sizes that no one in the Western world wants anymore. I don’t even think Zach Scott could fit in them. So the past couple of days everyone has been trying to figure out what to do with the dozens of humungous shoes we have acquired.

I asked Denise, my homologue’s 5 year old ward, about Christmas. She is very excited because she just got her hair braided and she is traveling to Kati to see her mother. I asked her what she wanted for Christmas- the concept of getting gifts was foreign to her. She thought really hard and then her eyes lighted up as she told me “I want a piece of candy!” Similarly, my Christian neighbor, Dalfin, asked me for a packet of macaroni and some powdered milk. Now I didn’t come here to be Santa Clause- to just give stuff away and most of the villagers think. I sigh because I see how dependent they are- how they have this idea in their minds that their lives will never improve until some white person in a big NGO car comes to change things. I’m the first volunteer, but I’m not the first person to try to help Dombila. But I am not here to help Dombila as a village, I’m here to help the people of Dombila. And maybe one day, they will have the self-initiative, the understanding, and the pride in themselves to improve their village for the sake of their health, and that of the future generations. And many are working so hard to do this too. But many, many have given up on so many things.
So yeah, it’s been a little hard lately. But I knew the hard times were coming. I’m in limbo where I’m ready to do something, but can’t really effectively do it until after my month of training in Bamako in January. I still am having a great time in village, but especially with Christmas coming up, I feel like my ability to give right now is completely absent. Dad, I hope you don’t mind, but I want to share with everyone what you wrote to me, because it made all the difference.

“ It will never be easy. it will be lots of fun at times, sometimes sad and lonely, sometimes totally amazing.
But most often it is hard in someway. The easy times are for regeneration and centering. The hard times are for growth and learning and achieving. God has a way of preparing us for the hard and it that success that we feel full-filled from. When things don't go well, look elsewhere for opportunity. As I said on the phone, nurture relationships not just accomplishments. That is an investment that will never stop paying dividends. Even if you don't feel the connection or appreciation coming back, it is something that you can always give. And is that what it really about. Especially around this holiday, find hope and spread hope through others. December 25th comes with the same message of love no matter where you are on this globe.”

And I think that says it all. I’ve learned such a lesson about giving this Christmas. It’s not about driving a truck with surplus Nike shoes, throwing them at kids and driving away. It’s not about proving yourself, that you can change the world. It’s about the smile on your face, the time you take to sit down with your neighbor, the respect you show for the people around you. And don't any of you worry a second about me- I've got a great pig roast in a little Christian village with all of my Peace Corps friends to look forward to. My friends, all I can give you this Christmas is all my love. With all the love you’ve given me, I just pray you will understand it is right back at you. From all your friends here and the other forgotten corners of the world- Merry Christmas.