Crazy Ideas

I fear my life is no longer meant to be normal. Not after what has happened this past year. Traveling to El Salvador for two weeks reminded me so much of South Africa. I felt the excitement and the joy of seeing new places and meeting new people, so different and yet so alike. I once again felt torn between my materialistic desires and my broken heart of compassion for those less well-off.

But, at the same time, El Salvador was so much different than South Africa because in El Salvador I can never be a tourist. I'm not an outsider learning about the culture for the first time and the families I stayed with are not just adopted families or strangers that opened their doors to me; they're my blood relatives.

I felt a certain connection to the South African people I met after spending 4 months in their country, eating their food, praising God with them, crying with their struggles, dancing with their joy, and engaging in their culture. In El Salvador the connection was so much more because I felt that they were my people; they are my people.

It's interesting to be Salvadoran-American because I will always be stuck between two worlds and my heart will always be divided between two countries. Now that I'm back in the US, I don't want to just live a normal life like nothing has happened. God has shown me the extent of His mercy and the overabundant blessings that fill my life. I have to do something about it.

Days Go By

It's been two months since I returned to the United States from South Africa. In those two months several things have happened. There have been moments when I forget about South Africa and I fall back into my American routine. I've sat in front of the TV and lusted after items I do not need and can't afford. I've watched the clock and have wished the hands to move faster as it fails to keep up with my fast-paced demands. I have even decided I am full halfway through a meal and thrown away the rest of its contents without thinking twice about the waste I am making.

There have also been moments when I remember South Africa and I can still smell the Rooibos tea and hear the monkeys outside my window. I've caught myself complaining about meaningless things and remembered how truly blessed I am. I walked into the voting polls and voted with honor thinking about the thousands that live in oppression and are far away from democracy. I watched the world cup games and remembered all the beautiful stadiums that cast a shadow on the townships and pull tourists away from the sights they should see and the real Africa that they should experience.

Some nights I dream about the children I met in Haniville and I wake up wanting to hold them in my arms. Some mornings the bay area fog couldn't look any more beautiful and I feel so blessed to call this my home.