Silver Linings

It’s been a trying week.

A friend was pretty seriously injured in a car accident. I saw a woman die. And I witnessed total disregard for human life by a man who had vowed to protect it.

This week made me question people.
It made me question authority.
And it made me question myself.

I’m not sure how I’d deal with this kind of adversity in America—mostly because I never had to. My life there—despite its stress and hassles—was, by comparison, pretty easy. When things got tough, I had outlets for clearing my mind and releasing stress. There were happy hours with friends, phone calls to vent or extra sweat sessions at the gym. But those things aren’t options here. And to be honest, I’m not sure they’d help, even if they were.

So I’ve adopted a new coping mechanism: Being thankful.

It doesn’t rid my mind of the things I’ve witnessed or enable me to forget the words I’ve heard ... that’d be impossible. Instead, it forces me to focus on something else. Something just as important and just as big:

The positive.

Rather than try to repress resentment, anger and fear, I can, through the simple exercise of making a list, remind myself that—even amid this sadness and frustration—there’s always something (or someone) to be thankful for.

Here are just a few:

Weekly calls from home. Sunsets. 355 sunny days a year. Prestick. Mosquito nets. Small kids with big backpacks. Five-dollar coins. Audio books. Little boys with plastic capes. New tar roads. The orange pitcher that makes my bucket bath feel like a shower. CATJAR. When people know my name. NAM post. Sipho. Speech. A phone that works (finally). American magazines. Round faces with big smiles. The Office (and the person who sends it). My education. Katie’s care packages. Dried fruit. Trail running shoes. Sunglasses. Sunscreen. Free rides. My ipod. Amazing friends (both here and in the states). Chick Flicks. Havaianas. Bruce Springsteen. Gaining patience. Handwritten letters. Free SMSes. Tracy. My Awareness Club. Gift, “Short for Present.” SMSes from the states. Feeling like I’ve accomplished something. Quiet walks. That kids yell, “I love you!” instead of “//Hosa!” Stationary with my name on it. Richel. Facebook Mobile. Love letters from learners. My mom and dad. Memories of NYC. Kiwi fruit on sale. Soy milk. A Sunday afternoon that doesn’t last forever. M&Ms. Electricity (when we have it). Running water (almost all day). Random hugs. Critical thinking skills. Catherine and Abigale. Bivy sacks. Kids reading to me out loud. My office becoming the new library. The little boy who blew me a kiss. Coverage of the Olympics. Perfect weather. Fans. Plans. Saturday pants in Africa. Mornings. Not having to worry about money. Unlimited time to think.

This experience and the chance to see all that I have seen.