The stuff they DON'T tell you about missions...

::sigh:: Soo, this is the big post about Mozambique I've been putting off writing. Keep in mind, this is only from my perspective. In no way am I dissuading anyone from being a missionary! I certainly haven't written it off even for myself! But, I have to say, there were a few things I wasn't prepared for, even in my short 3.5 week trip to east Africa.

First of all, it was harder to deal with the dirt & the disease than I thought it would be. I'm kind of ashamed of this, because I thought I was so easy going and adaptive! Well, the dirt in Moz is actually red sand, and it gets EVERYWHERE. It was in my scalp, my ears, my nose, my bed- even in my food! (It was amazing that my digestion was ok all month, considering all the sand I ate!) By the end of the first week, it was engrained into the skin on my feet. I could never get truly clean. Even with running water showers on the base, there was sand and mud and clods of hair in the stalls, wet red sand everywhere, so if I lifted up my foot to wash it, the second I put it back down on the floor, it was dirty again. All the buildings are open to the outside air (thank God for the nice weather!), so that also didn't help to block the sand from blowing in or being tracked in. Also, the people in the area suffer from a lot of diseases that were nagging at me in the back of my mind, as hard as I tried to ignore it and not worry. God is our healer, right!? But especially when I saw kids with bloated bellies from worms, and ringworm and scabies on their bodies, I got nervous that I was going to catch something.

Secondly, I had somewhat of a feeling of chlostrophobia, like I was going to be stuck in Africa forever. This only happened after the rest of my team left and I was by myself. And really, it only happened at night when I was trying to sleep. It was probably a demonic attack. Whatever it was, it was scary. Maybe I was just experiencing heightened culture shock.

The last and biggest thing I dealt with in Moz, though, I REALLY had a tough time with. All along, I had been picturing the African orphans as these poor little adorable children, who just needed someone to feed them and play with them and hug them, and tell them that they were God's precious treasures. While that's all still true, what I wasn't prepared for was their response to us trying to do that. The whole area I visited is under seige by a spirit of poverty. What I've learned is that a spirit of ENTITLEMENT goes along with a spirit of poverty. These kids were picked off the street, given beds, clothes, daily food, even toys, field trips, school supplies, and surrounded by people who care for them. Many of them though, are not grateful for what they've received, but rather demand more.

I'll give you a few examples.
My friend Marissa had brought some squirt guns and bubble wands to play with the kids while we were there. She brought a few of them out, found some boys, and started squirting them. They loved it for sure, thought squirt guns were awesome! But, one came along and grabbed it from Marissa's hand. Another one ran up, punched the first boy, grabbed the gun and tried to run away with it. Soon she had a pile of biting, kicking, fighting boys on her hands, and had to take all the toys away from them and go back inside.

Another day I was on the base, walking to my room with my breakfast bread roll. A kid ran by and took it out of my hand. I did succeed in taking it back from him- but, what gives?! ALL the kids are fed plenty, EVERY DAY. And it wasn't like I was carrying a three-layer chocolate cake, it was just a bread roll- the very same bread roll that EVERYONE gets for free, every morning! Why did he want to steal my bread?

I taught in an arts camp one week of the trip. I'd brought 17 recorders with me, to teach the kids how to play Hot Cross Buns, and maybe Mary Had A Little Lamb. I was super excited! I'd found them at Michaels for $3, and had bought out the store. One day, we were all getting ready to get on the cameon to go to camp, and I was standing with my bucket of bleach & recorders. I had several kids come by and snatch a recorder out of the bucket. It was so unfortunate that I had to guard everything so tightly to keep it from being broken or stolen.

I was hanging out with one of the Iris girls from arts camp, who is very sweet most of the time. She asked me to take her out to dinner. I told her I was sorry, but I couldn't. She pouted and wouldn't talk to me for about 5 minutes. Then she asked me to take her down to the beach. When I said I couldn't do that either, she smacked me and started crying, arms crossed. I took more notice of her after that, and realized that she manipulated her way into getting candy, treats, special trips out, and special meals out pretty much every day. If she wasn't getting what she wanted from one person, she'd leave and go find someone else who would give it to her.

One night some friends and I took some kids out to "the chicken shack." Some other kids from the village came in and were milling around while we were in there eating. I had ordered the half-of-a-small-chicken and fries. One kid, who I'd spent a lot of time with and talked to earlier that week, came over to our table, grabbed my entire chicken off my plate with his hand, and said, "you give me chicken!" I'd seen this kid be very pushy and demanding with the other kids, and other adults. I gotta tell you, I smacked his hand and took my chicken back!

I was standing with two of the Iris boys another afternoon, one of them holding a water bottle full of orange kool aid or something. The other asked the first for a drink, but he didn't want to share. Keep in mind also that the one with the kool aid was quite a few years younger than the one who was asking for it. The older boy started punching the younger and took his drink away! The younger succeeded in getting it back, but the older one was yelling curses and threats- "I hate you! I kill you! Next time I see you and no one is near I beat you!" Another visitor who knew this kid better came up to talk to him about it. She found out that apparently the older one had given some food or something to the younger one at an earlier time. He was livid now that the younger one had something and wasn't willing to share. The lesson- you shouldn't just give in order to receive- is a tough one for these kids to learn!

One afternoon I was sitting with a village boy about 4 years old, enjoying my time, when some older boys that I'd met before came up to talk to us. It was nice for about a minute, before they started asking me for things. It's interesting how they learn just enough English to get what they want! They asked me for bread, pencils, notebooks, a dollar, a water bottle, chocolate, anything. I told them I couldn't give them any of it, but that we could talk and be friends. They kept harassing me for stuff, and when I wouldn't give them what they demanded, these sweet little African orphans told me that I wasn't a good person, and I didn't love Jesus, scowled at me, and left. That kind of thing can be easy to take from someone else, but not from the kids you've come thousands of miles to minister to!

After all these experiences and more, my little wannabe-missionary heart was broken. What do you do when faced with so much GREED- from people who are POOR?? I wanted to believe that these kids were completely innocent, overlooked by the rest of the world, just waiting for ME to show up and love them. Everything I'd learned from the short-term missions trip advertisement videos at church was wrong! My heart had been moved for them, I'd cried for them, felt called to them, spoke on poverty and volunteered at rallies, I'd spent two months' salary to come meet them and love them in person! But now I was ANGRY at them!

WHAT??!!

What can a good Christian do in that situation but just shut down completely? How can we ever make sense of such a thing? Mozambique had betrayed me. My anger at these helpless, underprivileged kids was embarassing.

My year of teaching, I think, was making it worse. Don't these kids know anything about Character Counts?! You deserve a time out, mister. You sit there and think about what you just did. I'm calling your mommy. Hah. Right.

A healthy emphasis on respect is great in the US public school system, but in Moz, it was getting me nowhere.

Soooo, what to do, what to do? I couldn't even begin to think about it for at least a month after I returned States-side. I still haven't come to any conclusions. Here are a few thoughts though:
The kids are a product of their environment. It's not just the Iris kids or the village kids that have this mindset in Moz. It's everyone. It's what's been modeled for them all their lives. How could you then expect them to rise above this?

Iris Ministries works VERY hard to get rid of this mentality. They provide all that the kids need, trying to show them that they are now SONS and DAUGHTERS, no longer orphans. They will be provided for. They don't have to scrape and steal and fight tooth and nail for their lives anymore. They have a rule for visitors, too, not to give out anything to the people, but rather to make donations to Iris, and let Iris figure out who should get what, and when. I greatly admire this endeavor, and I believe the Lord has given them the keys for it!

I do think the Lord wants to teach me about the poverty mindset, and its ties with an entitlement spirit. It's funny, I teach in Title I schools in suburbs east of DC, and I think I learned more about my students by going to Africa than any educational conference or graduate class could teach me. I am seeing more and more parallels between the two groups of people. The spirit of poverty is here in my neighborhood too. I'm sure many of you who've worked with underprivileged/ at-risk groups have seen it too. You give them all they need and more, but they keep coming back demanding even more. Not to wax political, but the US welfare system is another good example of the poverty spirit (I'll leave it at that).

In closing, I in no way regret my trip to Mozambique. I am so glad and so blessed to have gone. I do now see more clearly though, that to be a long-term missionary, you truly have to be guided by God! Otherwise, your strength will run out. It's only HIS strength, and HIS love, that can change orphans into sons and daughters.