I went to Africa
I went to Africa...
(all names have been changed to protect the identity of those in the story)
I went to Africa……………
They keep asking me what was my main take-away from our Africa trip. I can’t answer. They say to write about it? I am wondering what to write about a journey that captured my heart and my stole my soul; twisted my mind and confused everything I thought I wanted and needed in life. Words are just so black and white, strict and austere but the children and people of Swaziland are soulfully, emotionally and spiritually vibrant.
What do I write here? What do I do about what I saw, touched, smelled and heard? What do I do about this unrelenting African movie that constantly plays in my mind? What do I do about the children at New Hope Center who do not have parents, cloths, some day’s food or water? What do I do about the young women who has AIDS, with a small cut on her forehead that lead to an infection that now has completely taken the right side of her face, head, scalp and sadly her right eye due to low immunity. She metaphorically represents the confusion in my heart and mind. She is one of the most beautiful young girls I have ever seen, soft, clear, radiant skin with a beautiful brown eye. But on the other side of her face she is being slowly eaten away by the evil of AIDS and a country that is challenged with poverty and disease beyond human understanding. What do I do about that? Do I write? If I write, then I have to wonder about Sara, whose throat was slit and left for dead. It was a miracle she is alive. She can only whisper when she talks now. Sara was the leader of the Church choir. She asked me, yes, she asked ME… if I could help her get her voice back. …. What the hell do I do about that?
And then there is the Grandmother (Go-Go) of a 10-year-old double orphan, who has been lying on the floor in a mud hut, unable to move for three years. I thought the 10 year old was being taken care of by his grandmother but instead he is taking care of her and his three younger siblings. None of the siblings were wearing shoes or pants when we visited and the sanitary conditions were the worst I had seen in Swaziland. We dropped off food, shoes and medical attention but what difference did it make. Seriously?
If I write about such enormous sadness then how can I explain the joy I witnessed and felt in these parentless children, their zest for life and the hope they have for themselves and their country. They brought me more joy and a sense of peace and PURPOSE than I know how to explain. Their hands in mine, their head on my shoulder, or the amazing love exchanged between my children and these young, sometimes tiny innocent human beings. To watch these children sing and praise God and to watch their caretakers work so hard and be so focused for the survival of a child is beyond what I can understand. How can I feel such joy in such sadness?
They say to write…. Does anyone want to hear? Can I really describe it? Should it really be shared? I do not know, all I know is, ….I went to Africa
Anyone tired of generational marketing, symposiums, webinars etc. Does anyone else feel like most of the information is common sense? Let me ask you, do you want to be slotted into a group called a Boomer, X’er or Y’er or millennial. It sounds more like a chromosomal project than a marketing discipline. Personally, I love what all age groups with or without their generalized behaviors have to offer. Ahh the enthusiasm of youth and the wisdom of age, and the opportunity to interact respectfully with all, are fundamental to business and human interpersonal growth. Now demographically we might need to know how many BB, Xer’s and Yers there are to build our products but not to build our relationships. To focus too much on categories of people is to generalize the populations and not the human relationship.