Triumph of the Human Spirit

I was making my last(?) tour through Kabindiza village. Gift and I walked along the dry, dusty road and chatted about day to day stuff. How many goats did he think he would have by next year, when the rains would come, what he was going to grow this year. We turned off the road and made our way through some fields and came to a clearing, to the village that is adjacent to Kabindiza. There we saw Gift’s friend. I never got his name. He was sitting down on the ground among some women and children and they were chatting. Gift shouted at him that we were going to visit his home. The man put his arms on the ground and in a half pushup, walked himself (using his hands) to his house, his feet dragging beside him. His legs were like toothpicks. His body seemed to big for him. He has polio.

We got to his house and sat down. He smiled and laughed, as we chatted about day to day stuff. He told Gift his radio was broken. Gift said he would fix it. We talked about the weather, the planting season, and he asked about Gift’s family. We shook hands and Gift and I took our leave.

I was sitting in my friend Martha’s house. We chat about the weather, about her mother, about her son Philip, who is terrified of me. She shows me around the house, which her and her mother rent for 1500 kwacha per month. She shows me her room, which is empty save for a mosquito net. She shows me her mother’s room, which is empty, except for a few clothes, and a mosquito net. We walk out of the house and stroll over to where some bricks are baking in the sun. Martha is building a room where she can bathe. It won’t be pretty, but it will be something. We chat a bit more, and we laugh and joke with one another. I look at the time and realize that I have to leave. Martha’s mother asks me if I’m really going to leave without eating. I know they have nothing to give, so I reply that I am. Martha walks me back to the road where I can catch a bus. In a low voice, she asks me if I would be willing to buy her some relish for their meal. I give her 40 kwacha (30 cents Canadian). We laugh and joke a bit more before we get to the road. I say my goodbye and leave.

Women, who walk for hours every day, a baby on their back, collecting firewood. Women, who cook, clean, fetch water. They really are the backbone of humanity. Throughout Malawi, I saw people who were hungry, broke, homeless. Yet, most receive visitors with a smile, and a laugh. Many know that the future will not be bright, but they have hopes for their children, and they carry on. And even when I denied them something that they had asked for (money, clothes, ipod), they still wished me well.

When I had hurt my leg and was using a crutch, even strangers who were stricken by polio, and were using crutches were concerned about me.

In the midst of suffering, perhaps because of it, the human spirit is able to shine brightly. I think that is the greatest gift that I received while overseas. To see that, though there is a long way to go to eradicating poverty, the human spirit, though faced with hardship, denial, and suffering, will ultimately triumph.