My body is starting to recover from its Weird African Disease, which means it's back to writing!
Something you realize if you travel is that Americans are about the only people on the planet who like strict schedules. I don't know of any other people in the world who make plans more than one day ahead like we do. Our friend Eric has given us this precious advice: Our first few days, it's better to do nothing but hang out and talk to people. Good thing he said something, because our first day there, our American genes are itching--we want to start a program, write a schedule, "accomplish" things.
Instead, we have breakfast for a couple hours with Benson and D.J.
Benson's been in the camp since 1997--a year before the second war in the Congo "officially" began. I read today that this war was the deadliest in the world since WWII. I'm ashamed of myself for knowing so little about it, and angry that the American media and educational system have done little to bring it to light.
Like most wars, it's complicated, and since there are so many different people and groups involved, I have yet to learn enough to be able to nail the whole thing down. What I do know is that I believe all wars stem not from external circumstances, but from internal evil. And because of this war, in 1995 Benson got separated from five siblings and his parents because rebels raided his village with an aim to kill. He was 14. Then in 1997 he finally reached the refugee camp in Uganda, where he slept under a tree and almost starved.
I picture myself at the age of 17. Then I imagine losing my entire family, wandering for two years in the midst of a bloody war, then arriving in the middle of a jungle, and having a UN worker hand me a hoe and a strip of jungle and tell me, "Here. Make a life from that."
I'm thinking my chances of survival would not be good.
Which means Benson is one of the strongest people I've ever met in my life. Because 10 years later, he was using that same hoe to make about 33 cents a day, then pooling that money with about 50 other people to provide for orphans in the refugee camp and provide educational resources like workbooks so they could try to get a leg up in the world.
This is how the organization called Coburwas--aka Ciyota--started. Just a couple of guys with a couple bucks who needed things like food and clean water and medication and clothing and shoes, who had the vision to choose instead to do something for the community. Now Ciyota is about 300 people who need things like food and clean water and medication and clothing and shoes, who are still working to improve the community. Which is why, with the help of some donors, they built a primary school to care for orphans. And organize micro-lending for women. And send older students to a hostel in a nearby town to continue their education. The list of accomplishments is pretty long, actually, I could go on for a while.
What strikes me most is that these weren't people with "extra cash." See, I'm a person with extra cash. I have a closet full of clothes and shoes, and I eat very well every day. I get to spend extra money on things like movies and Starbucks. When I give money, I'm giving out of my exceeding, enormous wealth. It is honestly not that big of a deal to me to give $25 or $50 bucks a month to a cause.
That's why it's humbling to be around Ciyota members. Because while I eat my three meals a day and spend my extra cash at Starbucks, they get sick and go without medication so they can give to a cause that's bigger than one individual.
You can read more by surfing around at a partner organization's website here.
Straight-up, you should sponsor a kid or two to get school, clothing, and two meals a day. It's like $8 a month.
No comments:
Post a Comment