Plastering and Playing

I write this at the end of another wonderfully exhausting day in Malawi. For the second day in a row, we traveled two bumpy hours – did I mention bumpy? – to Mindante, a small village dotted with one-room brick homes. The exhaustion and exhilaration are both physical and mental. The energy required simply to endure the jostling of the internal organs during the van ride is a surprising strain, and plastering is more physically demanding than I’d ever imagined. I’m discovering muscles I never knew I had!

I envisioned this trip as furthering my desire to be of service, to make myself useful to others. What I did not expect was to be humbled by the experience of being taught to plaster by a man within whom I share no common language and little life experience. That first day I realized that the only chance I have of being of service here – and likely elsewhere throughout my life – is to become and to remain teachable. And with that realization I knew that this man – whose name I can’t pronounce, and certainly can’t spell – had quite possibly been of greater service to me than I can ever hope to have been to him as I work on this clinic. And frankly, my plastering skills aren’t great, and I no doubt slowed down the process substantially!


The mental exhaustion comes from the vast range of emotions I’ve experience throughout the day – from the minute we arrive until long after we’ve driven away. How does your heart not spill over with joy when children run down the road after the van, waving with enthusiasm? Look at these faces! We’ve spent hours upon hours playing with the children, learning to communicate without words, which, in its own way, created an unexpected sense of intimacy. A young girl slipped her tiny hand into mine today, as I stood there feeling helpless, wondering what to do with myself next (and knowing I needed a breather from the back-breaking task of plastering). I suddenly felt like I had a purpose again. And yet. The need is so great that this evening as we drove away I felt as though our work here is like trying to build a mountain, one stone at a time. An impossible task. I don’t know what to do with these thoughts. But in my heart of hearts I know that I am in the service of a greater good, even if my actions are like a drop in the ocean. I am grateful to be a part of this, and am glad to have a community to share it with.