Misunderstood Mosquitoes

There is a welcoming in Africa that sings to the note of a mis-strung violin. It's the sound of mosquitoes as they ravage through the pink mosquito net surrounding my bed, attempting to feed their larva with fresh, foreign blood and potentially leaving malaria behind. You wouldn't think the sound of a lulling generator would be inviting until it becomes the only noise that deafens the whine of the night invading insects.

While the mosquitoes are frustrating, who am I to condemn them. In my mind they leave nothing more than a remnant of sickness, but the mosquitoes are simply trying to survive. It's from the mosquitos that I'm learning a most valuable lesson, not only about the significance of a good mosquito net, but about people and the importance of understanding. The more I experience the more I believe understanding is the foundation upon which wisdom flourishes, without it our efforts will be without affect.

There is a hebrew proverb that says we should call wisdom our sister and understanding our intimate friend, and I assure you it is with good cause. If we fail to fully understand people before introducing new ideas, we can fall prey to arrogance and the thought that our own views are right. We quickly loose trust and our efforts are dissolved.

Contrary to popular belief, probably given through misrepresented media, people in Africa aren't always looking for the help we are often eager to give. The solution to poverty and oppression, however hard it may be for me to grasp, is not giving Africans, or any other nation for that matter, a life similar to ours. I find myself thinking, "I'm going to help them so they don't have to live like that." I even find myself hoping to help my closest homeless friends so they can get out of the "situation" they're in. In reality, if I were to seek to truly understand people, not as I think they should be understood, but as they desire to be understood I may find they want to get out of their "situation" and live as I live no more than I want to wear your underwear. Sure they may be comfortable to you, but I'll keep my own thanks.

Oftentimes we believe people in undeveloped nations need what we have. While the heart behind the idea is beautiful, genuinely desiring to give people a better life, I'm realizing how ignorant and egocentric it can be. We think people would be better off if they had access to our technology, education, government, medicine even our money; I've caught myself saying "their country could operate so much more effectively if they had access to our medicine or if their government operated in such a way." It could even be true, we may even have technologies and ideas that are able to shift nations, but without understanding and an attitude of humility we will see no progress. (If you're not familiar with the history of tropical medicine, it would be worthwhile looking into how distributing medicine in undeveloped countries can actually be more harmful than the diseases themselves if not introduced properly.)

Again, I'm not saying what we have is not of value, in fact I believe the revelation and technology we have will change the world if we learn to advocate them properly. It also doesn't mean I hate poverty and oppression any less, it simply means the tactics and revelation for bringing unity is far more complex (or perhaps simple depending on how you view it) than I first imagined.

What if instead of stressing for people to live as we do, we lived brilliantly, fully valuing what we have and earnestly seeking to understand others. Would people not to see our lives and begin desiring to learn how we live in such fullness? Not a fake life where we always appear happy, but an honest life where even amidst difficulties we operate in such honesty and humility that people know what we have is of value. The things I believe required to achieve such things are simple: discipline and persistence, continuing on and being genuine when we least feel like it. This and only this will be the cause of a lasting reformation.

Who would have thought a brief encounter with a mosquito and the people of Sudan would arouse such thought? Or maybe this has been budding in my heart for awhile, but hearing the African people firsthand has been the water that has allowed it to blossom. Take or leave what I say, but may I learn to understand why you chose what you did.