What does your world look like?

Mornings  are always the best part of my days. Standing on my small porch on the second floor, so small it will not even fit a chair, I have a good view of my village waking up.

 
Two little girls about 7 or 8 waiting for another little girl to catch up so they can walk to school together. They call to her in Malagasy to hurry, she breaks into a run and when she reaches them they all pull out the snacks their mothers packed for them and decide if they want to exchange or bargain. They giggle and then hold hands and skip off to school.  Two teen age boys in school uniforms, running to the school I teach at, which is far away, I know they are already late. Running to be on time they will arrive hot and sweaty. They have worried looks on their faces, maybe they are late too often and anxiously anticipate the trouble they will be in.
People stop by Mamy’s cafe in front of my house for a coffee to go, although there are no “to go” cups so they have to drink it quickly in front of the open window. Laughing and talking to Mamy and to other patrons stopping for a quick coffee. This scene could play out anywhere in the world. I could be back in the USA.

 
But then my attention is drawn to a pair of oxen lumbering down the road, the owner hitting them with a stick on the rump to keep them moving. He has a plow and they are headed to the rice fields. I would never see this in the states. Men plowing their fields with oxen and make shift tools. I remember seeing a scene like this on “The Rifleman” years ago in the 50’s, Lucas McCain struggling behind a horse, plowing a field, the strain and sweat on his muscles.

 
A women in a colorful lambda (Sarong), balances a huge basket on her head and a small baby on her back. No this could not be anywhere in the states or any developed country.
I recently watched a youtube by Matthew Kelly when I was in my banking town. He stated that how we see “our” world determines how we live “our” life. His point was to take a step back and try to look at a different world that you live in. Don’t assume everyone is like you and then judge those that aren’t.

 
A year ago everyone I knew could read and write, many had been to college, everyone had running water and a toilet. My world does not look like that today.
All the children I know have held a book in their hands, few of the children in my village have ever held a book, not even a school book. Because there are no school books at the school!!

 
Kelly’s youtube helped make this very visual by pointing out that there are about 6 billion people in the world. For simplicity sake he narrows it down to just 100. Imagine yourself in a room with just 100 people and take a look around. This is what the real world looks like.

 
Out of the 100 people in that room, representing the entire world:
57 are Asian – When you are at a gathering at church, work, or a club meeting are half the people you see Asian? What does your world look like?
21 are European
14 are from North and South America
8 from Africa
68 cannot read or write – what does your world look like?
1 has been to college
30 lack food
30 lack justice
30 over eat -where do you stand in this room?
6 own and control the majority of wealth in the entire world!
5 out of the 6 who control the majority of wealth are from the USA -that means you and me!  I live on $5.00 a day and am considered lucky in my village! Very few make more, most make less.

 
What does your world look like? Hard to believe isn’t it. My world today in Madagascar looks so different from the world I lived in on Killarney Dr. in Columbia, Missouri. I know one person in my entire village who has a toilet to sit on. ONE! They happen to be fairly wealthy and put a real sitting toilet over their out house. The toilet is still not in the house, but it is a place to sit!

 
My life here as a Peace Corps volunteer is unique. I am asked to live like the local people in my village. I am not a tourist, yet I am not a local either. For the people in my village I might be like the strange, weird aunt that came for a short visit. Many will come to know me a little, appreciate my unique, different ways, some will simply tolerate my ways and many will be afraid to engage with me at all.
I am different from the tourist that sometimes stop to take photos. Large luxury busses pass through my town about twice a month filled with mostly French or British tourist. They want to see a different part of the world. I can imagine the posters in the travel agencies now “Visit Madagascar, home to the endangered lemurs !“ with background photos of exotic wild life, rare flowers, baobab trees and exotic beaches. The tour includes all the best hotels, which they will stay in with toilets and running water. They will never use a chamber pot or out house.
If the bus passes through on a Thursday, market day in town, they stop and the tourist descend in plaid shorts, sunglasses and large brimmed hats, cameras and cells phones ready for a photo op. The town hopes they will spend a little money.
I always stop to talk to them, most of the French speak some English. When I tell them I live here in town, they look at me as if I had grown two heads.

 
The conversation looks like this:
French women: ”You LIVE here?”
Me: Yes
French women: You mean you live HERE?
Me: Yes
French woman calls over friends, a flurry of French, then one of them turns to me and says in English:
My friend said you live here!
Me: Yes, I live here.
Frenchman: You LIVE here, in this TOWN?
Me: Yes (I start to wonder if it is the “yes” they don’t understand and follow it with a French oui)
Frenchman: Where?
Me: In that house over there!
Frenchman says something in French to the crowd and points to the house
French women: You actually live there in that house?
Me: Yes
French woman: You live in THAT house?
Me: YES!!! (what part of yes do you not understand!!)

 
More rapid French and then they want to know what it is like.
When I tell them about the conditions, no running water, electricity, refrigeration they gasp, they want more details about my day to day life. As I describe my day, I notice a slight look of pity or disgust cross their faces. Some begin to pat me on the shoulders and try to hand me money! I explain I am a volunteer and chose to live here and that it is, for the most part, quite pleasant. They walk away shaking their heads in absolute disbelieve, that anyone would choose to live here.

 
Almost a year ago, I was like the French tourist, gasping at the thought of living like I do now. But I have learned to be content with the lowest of life’s comforts and menial task, after all life is about having just what we need, not everything we want. No one around me has any creature comforts either, so there is no comparison to my neighbors.

 
Many back home ask me if I feel like I am making a difference here in Madagascar. I realize that this travel adventure is not about changing the world, it is about changing me, and how I see the world. Each day when I wake up I strive not to change it, but to survive it.

 

This past year in Madagascar has taught me that my job is not to try so hard to reach others, but to stand with open arms if they want to reach me. My life and experiences here help me see the world more clearly and love it more deeply.

 
A year ago in 2017, I did not know any of this existed. Today I raise a toast to 2018, a new year, full of people we are yet to meet and adventures we are yet to experience!

 

Contentment comes from living a life of being enough, having enough and doing enough.

Contentment should be the crowning glory in our life’s, but unfortunately it is notably absent for most of us.

 

Men hauling rice from the fields, that is Mamy’s house behind the ox, with her laundry drying in the sun.

It’s a small world, and yes I bought some bananas!

My seat mate on the brousse

And here is my seat, yes that is a piece of plastic serving as a window!