On Bravery

When I was in America, I sometimes felt like when I was talking to people, it was difficult to explain what my life is like here in Malawi- I think the term ‘ships passing in the night’ applies here- no matter how hard I tried, I don’t think I was able to get my point across, and it isn’t that my friends and family didn’t try to understand my stories, it’s just that the way people live here is so different, that without any point of reference it is impossible for us to understand each other. I guess the thing that bugged me the most about it was that I seem to get credit for living in a place for 2 years where people live their entire lives. People live here, raise their children here, fall in love, have dreams, tell jokes and have spats with neighbors. It isn’t always a happy sunshine type life, but what is?

A lot of people have the idea that Peace Corps volunteers are brave, but really, that’s not bravery, it’s something else maybe, but whatever it was that compelled me to choose to come here needs another name. Bravery is when you face something that is bigger than yourself, and you know that you can lose, but you do it anyway.

Right now, my Uncle Kenny is very sick. I found out about this when he wrote me a letter about his golf game, which has been slipping. Two and a half typed pages later, he nonchalantly mentioned that perhaps the reason behind this is because of his Chemo treatments. Here’s the thing about Uncle Kenny, he doesn’t let himself get depressed, or maybe it isn’t even something he has to block out- maybe that’s just how he’s wired. I can just imagine him talking to the doctor about his treatment plan, and mentally taking notes about how he’ll have to change his tee time. That’s just the kind of guy he is. In his own words:

“But hey, this is the Dude. I have been knocked down. Used to get knocked down playing football in high school all the time. So what do you do when you get knocked down? What do you mean what do you do? You get up off your butt and get back after it. That’s what I am doing… My handicap has gone up from a 6 to a 9 but what the heck. The upside is that I don’t have to give Uncle Tommy as many strokes as last year. See, look for the upside.”

I often get homesick, but this is different, in a time like this, single days mean more, and I wish I could be home so that I could be with my family, but I know that if I could talk on the phone right now with Uncle Kenny, he’d tell me to stay here in Malawi, and make good on my promise to my community, and that he’ll be up and golfing in no time. I hope so.

Maybe someday I’ll have to find out if I’m brave, but not if I’m lucky. I love you Uncle Kenny. Get better.

Beeb.

sidenote: Uncle Kenny totally looks like Colonel Alistair MacDonell of Glengarry