Calm down, calm down. If we had a Kwacha for every time
we’ve been asked some variation of the question, “Do you know when you’re
coming home yet?” … well, we’d still be poor … but we’d have a lot of Kwacha! It
seems that some of our comments from recent blog posts may have been
misinterpreted. All of a sudden, people back home are getting freaked out that
we’ve decided to be lifers in Africa. Please let me assure you, especially
those with the last name Chan, Nguyen or Hoang, that this decision has not been
made. In fact, to be completely honest, we’re no closer to making this decision
than we were when we first stepped foot in Africa. I’m not sure where the
confusion is coming from, though. From the outset, we communicated in very
clear language that there was always a possibility we would stay in Africa with
Hands at Work past our one-year term.
Here’s a reminder of what we tried to communicate - what this year DOES NOT represent:
- A “check one off the bucket list” trip
- A resume padder
- A magical cure-all to what ails our spiritual life
- An exotic one-year honeymoon
- A mission to bring home an African baby as our first child
(well, at least for now … but if we did decide to bring one home, it would definitely
be these little guys!)
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Johnny (4 years old and the little guy from the dancing video) and Phillip (2). Our favourite brothers from the community of Mulenga! |
What this year DOES represent, however, is the first step in
how we’ve chosen to live our lives. We always said that we’d commit to Africa
for one year MINIMUM, not maximum. It’s not like we have a ticket booked back
to Canada on our one-year anniversary of being in Africa. To say that our work
would be done here after exactly 365 days, and to have planned one year in
advance where we would be and what we would be doing post-Africa, would
completely disregard how this journey is shaping the rest of our lives.
Now, again, I reiterate that none of this means that we have
made the big decision or that we are even leaning one way or the other. All I’m
doing is driving the point home that our mindset now is no different than what
it was 6 months ago. We are here now. This is what our focus is on. For those
of you badgering us for a return date – leave us alone! Just kidding. It’s nice
to know we’re missed. But to definitively answer the question, at least for the
next few months, here’s the best we can give you: we have no idea!
Anyways, it’s pretty crazy to think that we’ve already been
in Africa for half a year. We’ve also been “unemployed” (read: not receiving a
paycheck) for over 10 months now and are 2 months away from our 1-year wedding anniversary.
As they say, time flies. I know what hasn’t been flying are my marathon blog
posts so I’ll do my best to keep this short (relatively). The best way I could
think of summarizing our first 6 months here is to do what we did in our very
first blog post and write it in the form of FAQs, even though no one has really
asked any of these questions. Just humor me here …
So what have you accomplished in your 6 months there so far?
In all honesty, it’s impossible to put into measurable terms.
And I’m not just saying that as a euphemism for, “absolutely nothing!”
(although, admittedly, there are days when it feels that way). As mentioned in
one of my previous blog posts, we have a tendency, as a culture, to measure our
worth through achievement. We build our identity on what we’ve accomplished and
evaluate success or failure on whether we can point to tangible results.
This has been a HUGE challenge for us to overcome. When we
set out for Africa, we didn’t have any expectations of performing miracles or
being directly responsible for saving a child’s life. We knew what we signed up
for – to be a part of something bigger than ourselves and to have faith that
God was using us for a very specific purpose, even if we may never fully
realize the extent of our impact here. Knowing that has been one thing;
accepting it has been another. It’s not always easy. And when we’re going
through days where we’re frustrated and struggling, it can be discouraging to
wonder what our real purpose and worth is here.
Having said that, we know and have faith in the reasons we
are here. We are building into something that is worthwhile and valuable and
much, much bigger than ourselves. It requires faith and commitment in the
vision of our organization and what we do here. Without that vision – to equip
the local community to effectively care for orphaned and vulnerable children
and transform their lives – it can gradually become work. Work that is at times
frustrating, work that is at times overwhelming and work that at times can feel
like … well … work. To remain patient amidst vast cultural and educational
divides and stay committed to building into the individuals and communities
that will be here long after we are gone requires a deep belief in this
mission. Everything we do has long-term sustainability in mind. There can be no
short cuts. Admittedly, it’s difficult but, in our minds, it’s the only way we
can really be of any value.
So, in short, we can’t tell you exactly what we’ve
accomplished. We haven’t built a school or a house with our bare hands. We
haven’t “rescued” a child from poverty or AIDS or brokenness. But what I can
say is that we are building into ideas, processes and relationships that will make a difference for those very
children. We’re building into the local individuals and communities to do this
work themselves.
It’s funny – there are times where we, almost instinctively,
want to measure the worth or value of our trip by searching for things we can
grasp at and point to as measures of success … as if caring for the widowed,
the sick, the dying, the orphaned and the vulnerable, to show them that they are loved and valued and that their life matters, is not reason enough to be here.
How has this experience changed you so far?
Another question that is difficult to describe in words and
quantify. It’s probably not what you’re expecting, though. It’s definitely not
what I was expecting. I think the natural assumption is that being in Africa,
working daily with orphans and widows, would give me a whole new perspective on
life; that it would make me softer, more compassionate, less of an a**hole. I’m
not saying this hasn’t happened. It definitely has … at least I hope it has …
(disclaimer: some people may disagree!) But that hasn’t been the big change. I
feel like compassion and perspective have always been a part of who I am. In
fact, it’s what led me to Africa. So, in essence, it’s more of an enhancement
(a rather large, enhancement, mind you) of those very things. Not so much a
dramatic, life-altering change.
Rather, the biggest change that the past 6 months has
brought within me has been learning to let go. For those of you that know me
well, I am an extremely tormented individual. I evaluate and analyze every
single decision in my life. Everything I do and commit to requires a painful,
calculated, cost-benefit analysis. This applies to anything from the flavour of
bubble tea I will drink on any given evening to the direction I want to take my
life. Every decision, no matter how small or big, is analyzed to death. I don’t
know how I got this way. My family tells me I’ve been like this since I was a little
boy. But you can imagine how mentally exhausting it is to be like this and for
Diane to put up with someone like this. I blame the Chan gene!
This illusion of control is something I’ve strived for over
every aspect of my entire life. Well, it didn’t take long for this illusion to
shatter here in Africa. When you are removed from everything you’ve grown up
with, everything that’s familiar, everything that you used to build your
identity on, you quickly realize that you are far from “in control”. It’s not
often that I refer to Scripture when internalizing my struggles but one verse
stands out to me in particular and it is a verse that has challenged me deeply
since being here:
Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry
about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear.
Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens:
They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them.
And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you buy worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since
you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?
- Luke 12:22-34 (NIV)
This has been huge for me. I’m not saying I’ve gotten to the
point where my faith is rock solid and that I am now able to release everything
to God but I am a lot further along than I used to be. It’s been difficult to
come to the realization that all my anxieties, my fears, my worrying is really
just my lack of faith manifesting itself. I speak of faith and how I live by it
all the time. In all honesty, I’ve never known what it means to rely solely on faith. I’m kidding myself if I
say I have. There’s always been provision; a safety net, if you will. But I can
honestly say that, ever since I’ve been in Africa, I am learning, daily, what it
really means to live by faith and to cede all control to God. I’m slowly, but
surely, learning to let go … and that includes what will happen after the next
6 months.
How’s the first year of marriage going?
Like everything else we’ve experienced in Africa, it’s
definitely had its ups and downs. The good news is that there have been far
more ups than downs. Many people expressed concern over us choosing to embark
on this crazy journey as newlyweds. In our mind, there was no better way to
start our marriage. We had the opportunity to commit our first year together as
a married couple to doing something we were passionate about and to focus on
developing our spiritual lives together, both of which would have been
incredibly challenging had we stayed in Calgary at our former jobs. We’ve
really seen the value in this as it has allowed us to explore a completely
different aspect of our relationship. With all of the challenges and
adjustments we’ve faced since being here, we have learned to rely tremendously
on each other for support. Having gone through so many new experiences and
challenges together, our relationship has definitely grown to new heights!
Things have also gotten much better ever since we’ve been
assigned to separate roles. With us no longer spending 24/7 together (which we
were for the first few months) we’re no longer constantly at each other’s
throats! Space is a good thing sometimes!
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Our very first Christmas as husband and wife |
What do you miss most about home?
I know the question says MOST but there are several things
that would rank pretty highly:
- Babies – I’m resigned to Skype and picture/video updates
from my two sisters for all things Tyson, Reese and Teddy. Technology is nice
but nothing can replace my sensory urges to hold them, nuzzle them and bite
them.
- Family – Our parents are deathly afraid of us staying any
longer than a year. We can understand. We miss them dearly. In all honesty,
family (including thoughts of starting our own) is the strongest thing pulling
us back. The nice thing, though, is that my relationship with my sisters has
grown and evolved a lot since being here.
- Friends – An incredible blessing in my life. Always has
been, always will be. The encouragement and support we have received from some
of our friends back home has been amazing. Being here has definitely revealed
some true friendships.
- Bubble tea – Not one to be found anywhere on the
continent. Je suis going through some serious withdrawal. Don’t laugh. It’s not
funny.
- Pho (and, really, all delicious Asian food) – Being in
Africa has not curbed my fat man cravings or appetite. In fact, it has made me
long for food even more. Don’t get me wrong, Diane’s cooking is great and she
actually made some decent pho here in her very first attempt (see pictures below!), but I am hurting
for some soul food (that includes your cooking, Mama Chan and Mama Nguyen!).
Diane and I shudder when we think of how shameless and disgusting I would be if
I were to step foot in Hong Kong right now.
- Watching sports – Of course, the year I leave for Africa
is the year the 49ers make it to the Super Bowl! Fortunately, I found a way to
watch the game. Unfortunately, it was the saddest day of my life (OK, not
really, but pretty close …) With my luck, the Celtics and the Blue Jays will be
in the big dance this year as well. At the very least, I can always rely on the
good ol’ Flames being the worst team in all of professional sports.
- Weather that doesn’t make me leak out of every pore of my
body at all times – it’s probably better that I don’t elaborate …
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Diane's first attempt at pho! I knew I married a Vietnamese girl for a reason! |
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Salad rolls ... also very delicious |
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Me watching the Super Bowl (start time 1:30 am) with my main man, George, in South Africa! |
How is your hair looking?
Sexier than ever. It’s actually growing out painfully slow;
a lot slower than I expected. But the good(?) news is that I now can tuck my
hair behind my ears and semi-grease it back! The bad news is that my hair is as
thick as a Korean’s calves which, combined with the constant, blistering heat,
makes me sweat like a fat man (think: my brother-in-law, Roger) more than I was
already prone to before. All in all, the new coif can be summed up in one word:
heinous. See for yourself ...
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Those sideburns (or lack thereof) are particularly heinous |
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So thick all around ... except when it comes to the rat tail in the back |
Nevertheless, I shall continue the good fight. Soon enough, I will pull
this off (minus the facial hair, of course):
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I think I'm better looking ... |
When are you coming home?
Are you serious? I’ll beat you.
Why did you trick me into believing that this was going to be a short
blog post?
Sorry. But, really, you should know better by
now. Does this mean that you’re actually still reading? Very impressive! In all
seriousness, thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, to those that are
following along in our journey. We hope that you’ll continue to think of us and
pray for us as we enter the next 6 months!
- Byron