Wednesday, April 13, 2011

People stress me out.

This post may be mostly for myself. One of those ones where I ramble on for a while about stuff I’m processing that no one really cares about. Sorry, but it is about life here so here it is:
As a team over the past week or so we’ve been working with Meyer’s Briggs results, how we as a team work and function together, personality stuff and other things. One of the issues we talked about was what stresses us out. The first thing that came to mind for me was “people”. People here stress me out?! Yeah, I guess they do. But this is KIND OF a “people person” job I’m doing. This could be a problem. I’ve been mulling it over for a few days now and trying to figure out what exactly is generating this stress. When I’m home, my stomach drops when someone comes through the gate. (But not quite everyone, just most people. If it’s a teammate it’s fine.) Why is it by the end of the afternoon I feel like I have to chase the kids out, lock the gate behind them then close the door of the house and pretend I’m not home?  
One thing I’ve come up with is this- 90% of people who pound on my gate want something from me.  On Saturday I was thinking about this so made a mental note of it. Here is how the day looked. 6:45am kids pounding on the gate. Can they come in to play? I’m not really even dressed yet so I sent them away. 7:15 again, different group of kids, same request. REALLY?! 7:45, now it is Betty and Abella pounding on the gate. The day hasn’t even started and I’m already sick of it. I let them in but I’m not really happy about it. Betty heads straight into the kitchen and grabs an egg. Woah! I don’t want that mess to clean up and she didn’t ask. “I’m hungry.” She says. I just wanted a quiet morning. She just wants breakfast. I let them make toast and have juice while I get dressed. Then I clean up the peanut butter and spills.  8:15am. Again with the pounding at the gate. I guess I should just unlock it. I send the girls to go see who it is.  It’s a nun and several others. Have I entered the twilight zone?! At least I’m dressed and have brushed my teeth. She is looking for Father Pius (our landlord) but to the best of my knowledge he isn’t even in Uganda. But by now the girls have let them in and they are making themselves comfortable in the shade of my front porch. Ummmm…. I awarkdly tell them I have to leave soon and pause and they assure me it’s fine, the will just stay and talk with Okello (the guard). I grab my bike and flee. Too many people too early in the day! I’m about an hour early for bible study but I head to the place we are going to meet, thinking it will be a quiet place I can sit and read until the others arrive.  As I ride I hear the customary “MAZUNGO!” as I go past. I reply with a good morning and then hear “YOU SPONSOR ME!” Excuse me? You just asked a strange white person on the road for money?! I think maybe not. Shortly after bible study I headed out to the village to check on the twins. Minutes after I arrive I’m asked to bring them out to see their grandfather. Initially I say no but then I’m told he is sick and she hasn’t seen him in a long time. I don’t have anything else planned so off we go. Once there I’m asked to treat all three of his wives and many others around. That is what I’m here for I guess but everyone that I see is over the age of 60 and life here is hard. There is really nothing I can do for their swollen spleens, aches, pains and cataracts. I gave out all of the Tlenol arthritis , vitamins, malaria meds and iron supplements I have. I told them I had nothing left in my bag that I could give but they pointed at antibiotics and childrens meds and asked for those. I’ve been home about 5 minutes and again with the pounding on the gate. It is a gentleman that I go to church with and he makes small talk then it is mentioned in passing that I didn’t make it to the overnight last night so maybe I could speak at the next one? I don’t see the connection there at all and I want to preach at one of their outreaches like I’d like to have my wisdom teeth removed again. I try to politely say no.  I wonder why he has come to my house and what he really wants. I guess culture says I have to invite him in but instead I just stand in the gate until he seems to get the hint and says he’ll see me at church tomorrow. (Beckie- if you are reading this the visitor was Fred. Are they expecting us to donate shillings to their next outreach?) I decide to leave the gate open because I’m sick of walking back and forth to it and within an hour I have 15+ kids in the yard. They ask me for a ball, for paper and markers, for books, for food. They ask me if they can bathe, can I give them soap and basins and if they can pick mangos and oranges, if they can ride the bikes. Finally it is 5:30. I send them all home and lock the gate again. Quiet. For a second. Then I hear someone at the gate again. I’m tempted to pretend I’m not here but I figure I’ve already been spotted. It is a teenage neighbor girl that we know who is pregnant and …. Anyway her story is sad. But she asks to charge her phone and charge the little light she uses at night. Fine. As I’m plugging her stuff in and telling her she can’t stay and wait but can come back in an hour for them, Betty comes back. She tells me she hasn’t eaten all day ( I remind her of breakfast) and can her and her brothers have some money for cabbage and tomatoes? Agnes is still standing there and she says her too. Cabbage is 800 shillings (40 cents) and tomatoes a little more. So I give them the shillings try to not feel…what? Resentful I guess. Annoyed.
I like to meet needs. It is in the very fiber of my being- why I’m a nurse and who I am as a person. I am most satisfied when I can identify a very concrete need and meet it. But here it just isn’t that easy.  Am I creating dependency? And if I am, so what? These girls are hungry. But worse than that, at the end of the day I’m not thinking about a long term solutions. I’m just thinking “Please stop asking me for stuff!” But I’m rich! I have a fridge of food and am not worried about malaria or any physical needs. Why can’t I give joyously in every situation? There is something else too. I always question people’s motives, their honesty and their thinking.  I’ve learned this is just the way it has to be. They don't trust each other either.   Are they asking for money for food really or do they know if they tell me it’s for food I’ll say yes but if it’s for something else then I won’t give? 
O.K. I’m done rambling on. Have I reached any conclusions? Have people stopped stressing me out? Not yet….

1 comment:

Terrill and Amber Schrock said...

Thanks for sharing. You're certainly not alone in how you feel. It's something I struggle with every day, and if I don't enforce boundaries, I quickly burn out. As counter-cultural as it may seem, we've decided not to answer the calls (shouts!) and knocks at the gate until 9 a.m. We of course can if we want to, but if don't, we just stay in the house until we've had our quiet times, breakfasts---whatever your morning routine is---before opening the flood gates of the day. Many missionaries encourage an open-door policy, but if you're an introvert like me, it's simply a matter of occupational survival. Without it, I'd first become a really mean person and then have to go home. Take care of your needs so can take care of others' as long as God wants you in Uganda.

(We highly recommend the book 'Boundaries' by Henry Cloud & John Townsend)

Terrill (Kaabong)