You know you're rich, right?

I was surprised when someone said something to me this week about "the top 1% of the world's wealth" that I mentioned in my previous post, as if I had been bragging. It made me realize that my point may have been missed so I wanted to clarify that I wasn't trying to be a braggadocio. Everyone who lives in America (not Africa or Argentina) and is reading this right now on their own computer is probably in the top 10% of the world's wealth. And those of us who have professional degrees and live in higher cost areas (which drive higher salaries) are probably in the top 1% of the world's wealth, because literally billions of people in the world live on a few dollars a day. If you don't believe me, you'll be humbled by going to www.globalrichlist.com or www.leastof.org and entering your annual salary.

Such a good reminder that we're called to be responsible with what we're given, and that many of us have been given much. Enjoy, and feel free to share those links!

To whom much has been given, much will be required; and to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded. (Luke 12:48)

How Africa Ruined My Life, In a Beautiful Way

I’ve been hesitant to post on here, because I didn’t want anyone at work to know about my covert job search. But last week, the proverbial cat was let out of the bag anyway, so now I am much more comfortable posting on this blog without concern that someone might stumble upon it. I’m not making a grand announcement to everyone “Hey, I quit my job last week” but they’ll all figure it out soon enough.

The short version of my life is that I grew up poor (not destitute, but in a lower income single mother household) and the value of education and money were instilled in me as a child. I grew up and knew that I needed to go to college in order to make a better life for myself, which I did. I also knew that I needed to be responsible with finances in order to have options. I’ve never desired to be rich in a materialistic sense, but I fully recognize that I am in the top 1% of the world’s wealth by virtue of my education, profession, and the country in which I live.

I came to know God in 2004, and it changed my life in big and small ways. In 2006, I led a mission trip down to indigenous people in the rainforests of Argentina. It was the worst poverty I had (and frankly, have) ever seen. I was talking to Yvan last week about our first trip, and with no prepping I asked him what the single image is from our first trip to Argentina that he can’t get out of his mind’s eye, and he accurately described the exact image that I was picturing when I asked the question: the young boy on the side of the road with the distended belly and unbearable malnourishment. I returned to the materialism of Orange County with anger, guilt, and an understanding that God was calling me to do something. That was definitely the start, but it has been a slow process.

In 2007, God called me (on very short notice) to Kenya. I had felt a pull to Sub-Saharan Africa in 2006, but the team I was leading pretty much told me that if I was leading to Africa, I was leading no one. Looking back, I know Argentina was the right move and God has blessed that decision many times. But Africa felt right from the very beginning. Beautiful faces and beautiful land intermingled with harsh realities of AIDS, orphans, malaria, street kids, and glue boys. I had thought about quitting my job after Argentina and moving to South America to build water towers (finally, my family and professors would be proud that I was using my chemical engineering degree!). But I took smaller steps instead to reallocate my resources and give more to projects where God was doing good work. In Kenya, Pastor Steve reassured me “Tash, sometimes you have to do what you have to do in order to be able to do what you want to do.” Simple, profound, and true. So I returned home from Kenya and didn’t quit my job. Instead, I worked hard to save money and I immediately signed up for the next Kenya trip. I had a birthday party and showed slides of the great ministries in Kenya, asking people to support those programs instead of buying me gifts. I tried to make people aware of life outside of our little bubble here in southern California. That sustained me for a while.

In 2008, Kenya’s post-election violence forced the cancelation of our trip to Kenya. So God called me back to Argentina again. The second trip was rougher, in a lot of ways. But it was incredible, too. We worked with two local churches and served as the hands and feet of God while we assisted with the building of a church in one of the indigenous communities. We encouraged the local pastors in their own outreach initiatives. We continued to lay the foundation for future teams. In April of this year, another team returned, the first team to take resources with them. They installed a water purification system, and another team is heading back this weekend. It’s humbling to see how God used us to lay the groundwork for what is turning into big God work. Anyway, after the second trip to Argentina, I felt those familiar stirrings in my soul. My manager sensed it, too, and must have viewed me as a flight risk because I was granted some “retention” stock shortly thereafter. All the while, I was growing more uncomfortable with my comfortable life. Aside from my travel budget, I tried to do more to live simply in an area not known for simplicity.

Earlier this year, I lived in Ghana for a month. That was the tipping point, and I sense that there is no turning back. All of my previous trips and experiences were building up, and my time in Ghana pushed me over the top. I loved the slower pace of life, the focus on relationships, the overt faith. I came back to the US and was depressed. I’ve grown increasingly annoyed with my life, and I feel spoiled by the things I have. For example, I have a cake transporter that is wonderful when I bake a cake from scratch. I can place two round cakes, frosting in the middle, on the platter and easily transport it to the party. But I don’t use it often enough to warrant its space in my life, and I want to give it to someone who will use it regularly. Multiply that across my life, and you get a sense of the discomfort I have in my life. My life feels cluttered, physically and emotionally, and my desire for simplicity is a constant tug.

When I started running the numbers a few months ago on what it would look like (financially) if I move to Ghana, it was liberating. I was able to let go of my concerns about savings account balance, credit rating, salary, and more. It was intoxicating to think that I could do something completely different with my life. I started dreaming about life in Ghana (or, perhaps I never stopped dreaming about it since the day I left). All the while, I grew more and more uncomfortable in my life here. Not just uncomfortable with my life, but uncomfortable in my life – almost as if I am living a life that was made for someone else, so it doesn’t quite “fit.” I’ve been thinking and journaling a lot. (I wish I could say I have been praying more than journaling…) The feeling hasn’t subsided in the last five months. So Monday, I told my manager that (1) I’m officially stepping off the executive track; (2) I’m done with my job; and (3) if I don’t find a different job that feels right for me by January, I’ll be unemployed and I’ll have plenty of time to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.

The responses have ranged from encouragement to shock. Even my closest friends reacted with excitement coupled with some sentiment of “You did WHAT?” My Godfather at work was literally speechless when I told him. Eventually, he told me he wants me to be comfortable with my decision and to pursue my passions, and he agreed to do what he can to help me. Some people definitely think I am crazy for spending 20 years to get somewhere, and then deciding that I don’t want to be here. But I think it’s better to decide that now than in 20 MORE years! Other people think I’m crazy for leaving a good job with a stable company while the economy performs a meltdown all around me. Why purposely make a decision that could easily lead to financial insolvency? I don’t have an answer that is going to satisfy those of you asking me those questions. All I know is that within a matter of months, my comfortable life has been shattered. And it’s beautifully broken.

I don’t know where I am going, or what I am doing, but I do know I am moving. Somewhere. To do something. Either a job that’s more fulfilling or a job that enables me to live a life that is more fulfilling. I’m sure that God is going to let me in on His plan at some point. In the meantime, I’m oing to focus on being ready. God is calling me, and I’m finally brave enough to listen. I heard a quote earlier this year that said something like “The question is not, Is God going to successfully mold me into the woman He has called me to be? The question is rather, How bad is it going to hurt?” I am finally to a point of genuine surrender, whatever that might mean. It’s terrifying, frankly, for this girl who learned as a child that I better be in control or the chaos would spin out of control. But it feels so very right that I can no longer deny it. God has brought me a long way! And, in the words of Mary Mary, “I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.” These are some faith-building days in my life.

I don’t know whether the next step in my journey is Ghana, I should know more about that possibility next week. What I do know is that Ghana was the turning point in my life. Ironic that a country known for its oppressive slave trade has become symbolic of liberation in my own life. I also know that Kenya planted seeds much earlier, seeds that sprouted this year and are growing like crazy. Hence the title of this blog. Asante, Kenya, and Medaase, Ghana! Hopefully I’ll see you soon :)

P.S. After reading the comments of people, I realized that I didn’t effectively articulate a really important piece of this year. For any of you who read this blog while I was in Ghana, you know how much I loved my life there. Then I came back to my life in Orange County and it was like a slap in the face. I kept thinking that the sting (of said slap) would subside, but it never did. I realized that having hot water whenever I want it is nice, but not at the expense of real relationships. Living in a beautiful condo is a blessing, but not at the expense of contemplative thoughts. Making a good salary with a stable company in a challenging economy is great, but not at the expense of the things that really make up a life. The cake analogy was a bad one, but the point was that all the “trappings of success” felt unimportant once I returned from Ghana. The good life in Ghana helped me realize that the life I made for myself here was really just a rat race.

I wish I could say that I surrendered to God’s will for my life because I knew it was the right thing to do, because I love Him, because He has changed my life. Those things are true, but I really took the big step because I have been feeling miserable. And all the while, God has been tying up loose ends on my life here, so I know it’s time to leave. I truly don’t know what’s next, but I finally got to the point where I trust that God does have a plan for me, and I need to yield to it even though I have no idea what it is. I am confidant that the next step (whatever it is) moves me in the direction of becoming the woman that God has called me to be. Thanks again for your support and encouragement!

Thoughts about Ghana, nearly 3 months later

It’s been a while since I posted here, but I wanted to post today because I have a few things to say about Ghana and Takoradi.

First, a new video that our team started in Ghana and finally finished a few weeks ago:


Another IBM team just left Takoradi this weekend. There were 11 or 12 of them (there had only been 8 of us) and they lived in the same place (Valley Beach Hotel), working at different companies. I followed their blogs every weekend and one of the guys from Italy wrote about “African time.” Here was the comment I left for him because he specifically wrote “We're so lucky, our life is so much better, we all think. But are we so sure of that? How can we tell?” and I felt compelled to respond:

While many Americans and Europeans grow frustrated with
the concept of African time, I quite enjoyed not being a slave
to time. I live and work in southern California, and having
been home from Ghana for a few months, I am still trying
to figure out how to make my life less of a "rat race."
Each time I go to Africa, I have similar feelings of "We're
so lucky, our life is so much better, we all think. But are
we so sure of that? How can we tell?" I have "concluded"
(too strong a word, but the best I have) that East and West
Africans have it right: they value people over possessions
and relationships over results, and in the end that's more
important than what most of us consistently strive to
attain. I'd sacrifice some of the creature comforts (not
all!) for more real life. And I think that next time I go
to Africa, I may never leave.

Finally, I had to laugh when I read some of the blogs. They were talking about their overall experiences in Takoradi, Ghana, living exactly where I lived (one of them probably lived in my room!). You know how when you fall in love with someone, you wear rose-colored glasses and you don’t notice his/her faults, or you notice them but they don’t annoy you? After you guys have read how much I loved Takoradi, I just had to paste some blog entries from the IBMers who live/work in North America:

* Driving in Takoradi is reminiscent of watching a very complicated ballet – one that Barishnekov himself would be proud of. There are traffic lights on virtually all of the corners of downtown Takoradi, but none of them work. Not one. And nobody with whom I spoke could ever remember when or if they ever did. Rather than approaching this as we do in the West (treat as a 4-way stop, allow those on the right to proceed first), the residents all plow straight into the intersection as if it were a round-about (traffic circle). Right of way is established by a series of nods, waves, and gentle & friendly toots on the horn. At any given time in downtown you will hear several car horns tooting. This seemingly chaotic approach seems to work very well – I saw no accidents while I was there, and there was traffic all the time.
* Goats are everywhere. They wander casually through the streets and the back alleys. Together with chickens, they are domesticated and roam freely throughout the city. Unlike dogs, however, these cute little goats that you see frolicking in the streets will soon be dinner for some family.
* To me, it is like I have stepped back in time to between the 1950s and the 1970s (depending on the situation).
* The local television stations cannot get the sound mixing right – the sound is either deafeningly loud, or so soft that you have to turn the volume up to maximum just to hear what they are saying. This becomes a problem when you switch the station to one with the sound mixed in the opposite way – you effectively blow the TV speakers and your ear drums out.
* The telephones (land lines) are push button, but when you press a number (like 7, for example), it will make the sound as if you had dialled it on a rotary dial phone. It is exactly as I remember it when we switched from rotary to push-button phones in the late 1970s. A more modern example is that of mobile phones. Blackberries and iPhones are not really prevalent here but everyone seems to have snazzy cell phones. Most people, however, appear to have 2 and sometimes even 3 mobile phones. The primary reason for this, as it was explained to me, was that no one provider is consistent or reliable enough, so you need to rely on more than one provider. Each provider requires you to carry different hardware.
* The service industry is as it was in North America in the 1970s. People are very friendly, but they do not anticipate or predict what a customer may want. Srini likes hot milk with his morning coffee. We stayed at the hotel for over 3 weeks, and after the second or third request, one would expect that hot milk would be provided automatically for him. Every morning for three weeks, without fail, Srini had to request his hot milk for his coffee. Every three or four days, corn flakes were put out for those who wished to have them for breakfast. No milk, though. Every single time the Corn Flakes were serviced we had to request that a jug of milk also be put out - it was not done automatically. This is not a knock against the hotel – this is pervasive throughout the country, and the hotel is just one example.
* Things are generally inexpensive in Takoradi, but trying to get change from a purchase can be a painful experience. The bank machines give out money in 20, 10, and 5 Ghana Cedi notes, but it doesn’t help much. If you try to pay for anything with a 20 or 10 Cedi note, you will struggle to find merchants who can easily give you change. Taxi drivers, restaurant wait staff, downtown merchants, at museum gates, or with tour guides – you name it, they all struggle to find correct change. They do not open for business with a mindset that they will need to provide change.

I supposed those comments offer you a more realistic view of Takoradi than my own love letters did :) I enjoyed it so much there that these minor inconveniences didn’t at all detract from the joy I experienced there. I am still wistful, and optimistic that I’ll be able to get back there some day soon. The best word I have is that I felt CHERISHED when I lived in Ghana.

Good Friday

Yesterday was Good Friday, which I think is appropriate because it’s bittersweet. Obviously, no one was THINKING that it was Good when, two thousand years ago, Jesus was crucified. But as I reflect on Good Friday, I remember that God truly does work all things for the good for His children. I also recognize that life is often bittersweet, in that usually my life is full of blessings while it has some sad moments and challenges. I have found that my life is never all sad or all good, there are usually aspects of both that encourage me to focus on the good.

I was feeling the “bitter” and the “sweet” of my life all week. I had a reunion phone call with the IBM team with whom I lived in Ghana. It was wonderful to hear everyone’s voices and to catch up, but it was also sad to realize that we may never all be in the same place at the same time again. The beginning of our call was lively and exciting, and after we caught up then we all kind of turned to nostalgia for Takoradi, missing Ghana, and sadness that our trip was over.

I took my final anti-malaria pill yesterday, a tangible reminder that my African adventure (this one, at least) is truly over. I also took my braids out, a bittersweet occasion all to itself (sadness that they’re gone and excitement to get my scalp washed). I feel so grateful for having had the experience, but I am also sad that it ended. To tame the “bitter” I am focusing on the many sweet memories I created, which I will treasure forever. I am constantly reminded that I am a blessed woman.

Over the last 10 days since being back in southern California, I waver between feeling disconnected and feeling loved. I am so glad that my friends have rallied around me to remind me that I am treasured, because the transition has been more challenging than I expected. I’ve been through this cultural readjustment before (returning from missions trips) but this time has been more difficult than I imagined. My closest friends are calling and texting me regularly to check on me and make sure I am doing okay. I was in a funk for the first week and I knew that I had a 50/50 chance to either come out of it or to dip into a depression, and I’ve done everything I can to stack the deck in my favor.

I have intentionally been out with friends every night, even at the expense of getting my condo and life back in order. I am grateful for all the warm and loving “welcome homes” I have received. And I’ve enjoyed seeing how God is using people and circumstances to send me love on a daily and hourly basis, when I need it most. Thanks to all of you for letting God use you to remind me that He loves me! I’ve also been thrilled that so many friends from out of town have ended up being here over the last week, giving me plenty of opportunities to hang out with people who I love and miss.

As with anything in life, I return a different person. And I have a feeling that this experience is going to be a defining moment in my life. I don’t yet exactly know how, but I do know that I am already changed, that I want to change, and that I am still changing. I am eager to see how God uses this in my life, and I trust that He will work it all for the good.

The two videos

For those of you who are having a tough time finding the videos amidst all the other text, here are the links to the videos. Each video has music, pictures, and some words to help narrate. Enjoy!

Ghana video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFXE41LagS0

South Africa Safari video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9z3yC3M_cGs

Video from my South African Safari

Okay, since I’ve been up for so long, I might as well finish these posts, right? First, let me say Happy Birthday, Sis! I’ll call you later today.

We’ve already established (elsewhere in this blog) that I am pretty lousy at goodbyes. But something in me tells me that this Africa blog isn’t done yet :)

The last six weeks in Africa (Ghana and South Africa) were an incredible blessing and I am so grateful to have had the experience. Truthfully, I am a little depressed to be gone from Africa, but making these two videos (scroll down to the bottom of the April page for my Ghana video) has been a nice reminder of the people who made the trip so special. I hope you enjoy the blog, the pictures, and the videos! Thanks for supporting me and joining me for this wild ride.

For now, here is my South African Safari video:


Blessings to you all!

Final day in South Africa

Warthogs woke me this morning.


And Morris delivered my cheetah on our last drive! On our very first day, he asked what I would like to see and I requested a male lion and a cheetah. On our first drive, he showed me a male lion, and on our last drive he showed me not just one cheetah, but four!!! A mama with two boys, and a lone female. They were beautiful, and I was very excited. Morris is awesome!




We also saw rhino, zebra, giraffes, wildebeest (and a carcass from last week), elephants, African hawk eagle, baboons, impala, and more.

I packed up and checked out of Shiduli, and Dylan came to fetch me. We had a nice time on the 6-hour drive through the Drakensburg mountains back down to Johannesburg, and he had me crying with laughter as he told me about his tough day yesterday that culminated in a honey badger stealing his dinner. The Drakensburg range juts up several thousand feet from a grassy plain below, so the drive offered wonderful views. At one point, we were stopped (lots of roadwork underway in preparation for the 2010 World Cup) so we bought some homemade marula beer from a woman on the side of the road. Someone suggested I try it before leaving, and Dylan obliged even though he cautioned me against it. As soon as I opened the bottle, his face soured at the smell. I took a sip, and he agreed to take a small taste, too. We both thought it was disgusting, so we screwed the lid back on and put it back on the side of the road so the lady could re-sell it.

We stopped for lunch in Dullstrom (home of South Africa’s highest railway station at 6811 feet above sea level) at a great place called Harrie’s pancakes, where we each had a savory pancake before splitting a sweet one for dessert. My savory pancake was delicious, and the easiest description would be to say it was a thai burrito wrapped in a pancake instead of a tortilla. Don’t knock it until you try it :) I’m still impressed with the quality (clean, nice) of the public toilets in South Africa. We stopped at one this afternoon and there were flowers on the counter. Wonderful! While I was in the ladies room, Dylan went in and bought me jelly babies so I could try them before leaving. The name and package make me laugh, but the oddest thing is that the candies are actually shaped like babies (belly buttons, diapers, and all). I tried each of the 6 flavors, and pineapple was my favorite. I told him “these candies are wrong in so many ways” and he just laughed.

This blog really should end with Dylan dropping me off at the airport so I could catch my two long flights back to southern California, but I must share one new experience I had on the first leg of my flight (Johannesburg to Amsterdam). After some technical difficulties (not sure what, they never told us), we backed away from the gate and within a few minutes the pilot announced overhead that a passenger had been “cruel” to the flight attendants so we’d be turning around and returning him to the gate. Evidently, the guy was drunk and berated a flight attendant, so they kicked him off the plane before we even left. In the end, our flight was delayed over an hour, but I had a long enough layover in Amsterdam that it didn’t affect my connection at all. Also, sleep deprivation over the last week definitely has its upside! I slept for 8 hours on the flight and felt great heading into the second half. On the last 10 hours of the flight, I read and made these videos.

I made it to LAX this afternoon and now it’s 5am and I still can’t get to sleep. I have to work today, so it will be a long day… No matter, it was well worth it!