For love of Africa

"When you’ve acquired a taste for dust,

The scent of our first rain,

You’re hooked for life on Africa

And you’ll not be right again

Till you can watch the setting moon

And hear the jackals bark

And know that they’re around you,

Waiting in the dark.

When you long to see the Elephants,

Or to hear the coucal’s song,

When the moonrise sets your blood on fire,

You’ve been away too long.

It’s time to cut the traces loose

And let you’re heart go free

Beyond that far horizon,

Where your spirit yearns to be."

-Africa by Emily Dibb

The picture above was taken on my most miserable day in Africa. I woke up sick and could not keep anything down, but in spite of feeling ill, I went with the rest of my mission's trip team to a rural school on the edge of the Firestone Plantation outside of Monrovia, Liberia. I felt weak and disoriented as I watched these beautiful, amazing school children welcome me to their school. Somehow, by God's true grace, I did not become sick to my stomach there. Instead, I found myself outside of a car, singing with them. Even in my physical misery, I could not stop loving Africa.

My first trip to Liberia, West Africa was in 2007. I had a vague dream about going to Africa some day, but did not think that it was a dream likely to come true. In the Fall of 2006, I took a research writing class. After deciding on a topic, HIV/AIDS and its effect on the family unit in Uganda, I figured Mission's Fest would be a good place to get information. Missions Fest is a large gathering of missions groups with booths and workshops about organizations that operate all over the globe. At one point, I stopped at a booth covered with pictures of smiling African children in orange shirts. The organization was called Serve the Children. I talked with someone at that booth for nearly an hour. It was love at first sight. I told my parents later that day I was going to Liberia, where Serve the Children operated tuition free schooling to over 1,000 children. I also called one of my best friends and asked if she might pray about going with me. Eight months later I was on my way.

It wouldn't be honest to say that I loved everything about Liberia that first trip. Even after I read everything I could get my hands on about the country, viewed countless pictures, and listened to Doug Collier go over every detail of the trip, I was still unprepared for what I saw. It had been nearly four years since the end of a 14-year-long civil war ended in Liberia and there was still a 15,000 strong UN Peacekeeping unit in the country. I had seen the effects of war and poverty in other places; Nicaragua, Romania, Russia, but in Liberia the magnitude was SO much greater. There was no electricity, no running water, no garbage collection. There were malnourished children stricken with malaria that stared at you with haunting yellowed-eyes, soccer players missing limbs practicing in a field strewn with garbage, bombed out buildings, squatters next-door, and bullet holes in the now-stripped telephone poles. The need was great.I felt insignificant, unuseful, and questioned why God would send me somewhere I was so ill-equipped to serve. Strangely, it was from that place that my love began to grow.

Have you ever experienced a hug several children deep? I could not help but feel deep, resounding joy when squished, almost to the point of being unable to breathe, by a dozen smiling children. My first trip to Liberia taught me about the depth of man's capabilities to be inhumane towards their fellow man. More importantly, it showed me that even in the midst of great adversity, even after suffering from unspeakable atrocities, man can be incredibly resilient. I opened my eyes to see a people who trusted in God and praised him with all of their being and with more vibrancy than I can muster in most exuberant moments. I saw people who shared what they had, gave generously and lavished love, even on a stranger. When I left Liberia, I knew I would be back. Even so, it took months for me to process the events of the first trip. In that time, my love for Liberia deepened even more. By 2009, I knew God was calling me back. I joined a team of pastors, oddly the perfect fit for me, the lone nursing student. Just a few days after completing my first year of nursing school, I was on a plane headed back to Africa.

Stepping off the plane into the sticky Liberia evening, my feet touched the ground and I was hooked. I feel as if I almost became a different person. Driven by some compulsion, I HAD to soak in the experience. I listened, I watched, I ate. It was a feeling of being alive and being in exactly the right place. The rhythm of life in Liberia was soothing to my stressed, over-tired soul. I built relationships with people who constantly amazed me, enjoyed riding around the city, playing with the kids. So much had changed, while the need was great, I felt much more at peace. I could see hope where previously I had only seen despair. I saw growth where before I could only see what had been destroyed. 

I seem to have this pattern of thinking that I will be doing something for someone on a mission's trip and it never quite turns out how I think that it will. This time was no exception. I wanted to do something big medically for the school children. It never happened. God totally redirected me. He wanted me to learn... not just to go and give, but also to build relationships, learn about people, love them, and to accept their love in return.

My friend Martha is one of the best cooks in all of Liberia. I loved learning how to cook "the Liberian way" with her. I love singing along to worship music with her in the overwhelmingly hot kitchen. I have had the immense privilege of being a recipient of her abundant generosity. Martha is one of the most hard-working women I know and if I could be even a little bit like her, I would be better for it. 

In a little over a month, I will be making my third trip to Africa. This time I will not be going to Liberia. Rather, I will be heading South to Zimbabwe. As part of my nursing program, I will be spending a month participating in a cross-cultural nursing clinical at Karanda Mission Hospital, near Mount Darwin on the Eastern side of the country. It is the culmination of another dream of mine, nursing in a developing nation. I'm excited about the challenges that await me in Zimbabwe and hope to fall as much in love with the people there as I have with those in Liberia. I'm ready to go adventurin' again!