When We Want To Quit

When I was in high school, during rugby tryouts we were often made to go on a run which was simply called, “The Quarry”, because of where it led. It consisted of running straight up hill for about 2.5 kilometers to a rock quarry before heading back toward school. The first time I did this particular run I was in 9th grade and I was certain I would die, not only because I was out of shape but also because RVA happens to be several thousand feet higher than home.
I remember running along, certain that I would never make it to the top because my lungs just couldn’t seem to get enough air. Still, I kept going, not because my body said it could keep going, but because I knew that hundreds of boys just like me had survived the run and so would I.

But the question for me still remains: What do you do when you want to quit??

I have been in Sudan now for almost nine months and I there are days when I get up and just want to quit. Let me paint you the picture:
I wake up and I am hot, sweaty and tired because the Pakistani UN camp, which is a mile away, has a noisy call to prayer at 5am. Then, I eat my oatmeal(which is an essential for my personal attitude toward life) and bang – the day starts. We need water for the compound and then we need water for the hospital and sand and cement and grass and then more water and……oh, then the truck breaks down and the mechanic is in a bad mood because we didn’t have any goat meat for dinner. Right about lunch time one of our drivers pulls me aside and says, “We need to meet”. So, I meet with the drivers and they tell me that they don’t believe in having to load the vehicles, they just want to drive them. In fact, they would be perfectly content watching me load the vehicles on my own; they just don’t want to break a sweat. They also want me to provide tea in the morning so that when they show up for work 30 minutes late they can waste another 30 minutes doing nothing. Of course, I agree because I’m hungry and ready for a break and its 110 degrees….not to mention the fact that I don’t feel like having to train new drivers since they are a scarce commodity. The headmaster of our school then sends me a note: the teachers want more pay. Finally at 3 I have found the time to get to the project I wanted to work on – the hospital lights aren’t working. At 5, I decide to give my guys a ride home and on the way some guy stops me and asks for a ride to the market which is only 100 meters away. When I tell him that he could walk there faster he proceeds to lecture me about showing him respect…. because after all I’m only in his country serving at the only hospital in over a hundred miles, providing textbooks for one of the few schools around and making sure that hundreds of people get clean water. At the end of day, I feel like I have wasted my energy on people who could care less that I’m here to lend a hand and am wondering how fast I can get out of here.

And then I step back and wonder – Is my attitude really that bad? Am I really that ready to quit? The answer is yes, but the real question is what I’m going to do about it. My mom likes to point out, after watching a lot of missionaries come and go, that most people hit a sticking point sometime between their first 6 months and year in the field. She’s right too – there comes a day when the novelty of the work wears off and it can be just a plain old pain in the rear. We begin to wonder if the work we’re doing is actually worth it and in the world of NGOs there is plenty of ammunition to say that it isn’t. So, what’s to keep me from quitting? I recently read a blog by another person working in Sudan that dealt with the difficulties of working here. He pointed out that there is a big disconnect between the western approach to work here and the Sudanese approach to that same work. I think that a big step in overcoming the frustrations is to recognize the differences in culture and look for ways to bridge the gap…..its pretty big!

But on a different note, what keeps me from quitting has nothing to do with cultures or bridging the gaps (not that they aren’t important). The differences are always going to be there and there are going to be difficulties wherever we work. I was recently reminded that when I was ready to come out here I wanted to have an attitude of learning. Along the way I started to think that maybe I had some of the answers….and maybe I do have a few answers but the truth is I really don’t know anything. This life is an amazing journey and this particular part of the journey might be very hard, but the lessons I learn from these hard times have so much more meaning than those that I learn from the easy times.

I would like to say that I like it here all the time, but the truth is I don’t. Often, I am frustrated and feel as if I am wasting my time and in those times I am ready to give up. But just as often I get to be involved in something great. I get to watch someone get better in our hospital or watch a kid get his primary school certificate.

There is so much for me to learn here, the King is busy and I can be a part of that if I will just take my eyes off my frustrations and poor attempts to solve the problems here…...for me, that’s a good enough reason not to quit.

Finding "Memo"

Nemo...don't worry, I found him.

The Kenyan coast has always been one of my favourate places to visit – the one drawback being the beach bums who come around offering all sorts of deals. However, when an old fisherman walked up and offered to show me “Memo”, how could I help but be interested – I figured poor Nemo must be really, really lost this time to end up in the dying coral of East Africa.
A week and a half ago I left hot, dry Sudan for two weeks of relaxation and freedom from the work that, of late, has seemed to increase incrementally. There have been many projects at the hospital and we have amped up our various activities to ensure that we get as much done as possible before the rains begin again in May or June. My plan was to join several co-workers on an adventure to Egypt during our two weeks but in the end the war being waged in my gut won out and I decided that a trip to a doctor would be more prudent. The doctor confirmed that I was losing the battle to a very well-organized stomach mafia group called Giardia and put me on some meds to knock the little buggers out. All that to say, I am now feeling much better – I had been looking for my energy and it has finally decided to return from a long hiatus.
With my stomach figured out, I decided I should at least venture out of Nairobi and enjoy a few days on the coast. I have always enjoyed going to the Kenyan coast and it was always a special treat when we were able to go there as a family growing up. This time I went alone and discovered that a hotel full of old, overweight Europeans can be both very relaxing(everyone just lies around) and somewhat odd(old, fat, sunburned men should never wear a Speedo) at the same time. The Indian Ocean is beautiful and I had forgotten how warm it is. My friends in college enjoyed giving me a hard time for complaining about the cold Atlantic water and I have rediscovered my complaint….I doubt if they will ever get me back into the frigid North Atlantic now that I have returned to my senses.
Which brings me back to Simon and his offer to show me “Memo”. The little old man assured me he was no beach bum and told me I had been thoroughly ripped off on my two hour snorkeling trip the day before - if I wanted to see “Memo” and other amazing fishes I should follow him and he would make sure I was very happy with Simon.
I was very happy with Simon because, in the end, we did find poor little Memo and all his little buddies swimming on a tiny little green coral. We also found large, black Sea Urchins, Sea Slugs, Sea Cucumbers and a number of other small, obscure sea creatures. I followed the little man around sharp corrals, through tide pools, and gently stepped over protruding mussels and when it was all over I had decided that I will never wander out onto the reef on my own lest I wind up with a sliced foot or dead from some strange poisonous sea bite.
In a few days I’ll be headed back to work but for now I’m hanging out in Nairobi with my cousin and her family. It is a nice break from the stress that awaits me upon my return to the hot and dry of Sudan. More from there later.


Simon the "Memo" finder...


From my hotel room.



Part of the pool. And you thought I was slaving away...