interpret.this

 

 

 

 

I missed two days somewhere along the way. Busy, working, tired, thinking, rethinking, trusting, listening… But the hardest of all seems to be interpreting the stuff of life.  Looks, glances, hand gestures, smiles, no smiles, response and no response… Simply exhausting. And fun too.

Interpreting is stuff of living in another world with another language. It can be draining and fun. You can think you have it at one point…communicating rightly that is… And just when you think your in, you find you missed the meaning of the intonation or how hard to squeeze the hug or when to nod and which direction to wave your hand; when to shake the hand and when to grab the arm, when to speak and when to not. Before you know it your being laughed at with friends or being ignored by those you want to connect with.

Oh but when the connection is made, it’s good. I mean good like when your kids really get after telling them over and over again to … Its like we finally connected and the magic of communication moved us forward.

So interpret this…

A crowd of children, 600 – 800ish. 5-15 years of age. ALL with rip torn clothes. All smell. Most without shoes. Almost all with some noticeable illness coming from their nose, mouth, open wound, foot, head or eyes. Interpret… Neglect? Or Orphaned? Or…

They stand and push in a crowd with an adult shouting names. One by one they light up as they hear their name. I mean light up like Christmas morning came early. they shove anyone out of the way they need to to get to the lineup. Interpret… Greedy? Or Human? Or…

Crowd of kids push in on the area we are giving shoes. Not a few. The whole crowd. 600 of anything coming toward me is intimidating. Crowd swarms as a man swings a stick at them. Not a small stick. They scream. They move. Interpret… Child abuse? Or crowd control? Or…

Fact is, I’m not really sure I’ve made any correct interpretations today. I felt quite vulnerable and today was difficult for me. So many children and I’m so helpless. Seeing the picture of the young girl with the torn dress on the UNICEF commercial is one thing, being in a flood of children in Bahir Dar is another. Yes it breaks my heart. It would yours too. You need to come and see, that’s all I can say.

You know even though we’re extremely American, I think there were moments when we made that transcendent connection. Moments when smiles were exchanged. Genuine love was expressed. Care was given and humbly received.

In it all, there is a picture that stands out. Our photographer Terry was taking a break from her responsibilities to get a few candids and capture one she did. She was getting a picture of Chuck giving a kid some shoes. Now Chucks a big white guy born and raised in Leroy, Ohio. A gentle giant. Pretty quiet but don’t let quiet be confused with disengaged. He tracks every conversation and offers at the right time…unlike most of us who speak first and ask questions the rest of the day because we were talking when we should have been listening. (In cartoon world he’d have the body of Shrek and the heart of Mother Theresa.) Anyway…He’s become one of my favorites. I love him dearly. So Terry’s out to get a picture of Chuck at work giving out shoes to kids. It would have been enough to see that connection, but God gave so much more. In the moment she snapped the shutter this boy spontaneously lunged forward and gave Chuck a big hug. Not posed for some UNICEF poster, but genuine connection…appreciation…love…a moment of grace caught on camera. Chuck, eyes closed like we all do when we give a loving hug. The kid with a serious smile. When I saw the picture, I could almost feel the pressure of the little arms squeezing his neck. The picture of this little black body connecting with this rather large white guy will forever be in my mind when I try to interpret days like this.

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisement