The Results of Great Expectations

The following will be turned in for credit as my final Independent Study project conclusion.

In general, I believe that Americans are of the mind that there are certain expectations--established by the individual--which must be met in undertaking a project, academic or otherwise. Based on my preparations in the several months prior to my journey to Africa, however, I feel that my main principle going into the trip was to expect the unexpected--I had told several people that I expected the experience to change my life, but after talking to one individual, I was hesitant even to hope for that, for the very same fear of failure that has been ingrained in American society. Fortunately, my “non-expectation” was indeed met, albeit not in any way I could have imagined, of course. It was in this way and during this month-long residency in Rwanda that I found God to be the only avenue by which to achieve physical, spiritual, social and academic excellence.

First, there is something to be said for relationships in regard to cross-cultural transcendence. I always thought I had a certain soft spot for designing relationships between characters in my writing, but now I have found that, without solid bonds, it is essentially impossible to move forward. For example, the day that our team visited with members of a village sociotherapy group, we started the day with two hours of shelling peanuts, singing with the locals--us singing in our language, they in theirs--and even teaching them the word “ooftah” and how to count to five in English. At the beginning of the trip, the blisters and dirt and sweat I became covered in might have discouraged me, made me question whether or not the Rwandan people were simply taking advantage of us for a day; and yet, it now seems obvious to me that, if we had not partaken in those activities, had not made clear our desire to identify with them and learn rather than simply hear a story that would stay in Rwanda, they would not have shared the few, short testimonies they did share with us. The fact that we actively made an effort to connect with them through physical labor, socializing and academic interest (at least for me, and as I took notes during their testimonies I believe it is reasonable to assume they understood the concept of our academic purpose at least loosely), even though they could have no idea whether or not we would be back in their country someday, struck me as foundational in creating realistic interactions between fictional characters.

But more than that, perhaps, is the fact that I saw genocidaires seated centimeters from victims with my own eyes, and heard them proclaiming their love of Christ with my own ears. When something that seems so impossible does occur in reality, it makes a person wonder--and yet I know that that sort of supernatural forgiveness is only possible through Christ. In the context of seeing thousands upon thousands of skulls and bones--some of which I physically touched--and probably a hundred graves prior to the revelation of this information, too, speaks to this truth, but the published story of Imaculee Ilibagiza is what truly solidified the idea. Over 90 days she spent in a roughly 5’x5’x10’ bathroom with seven other girls, no electricity, no change of clothes and little enough food to drop her from 115 pounds to 65. Yet she prayed every waking moment--thanks, forgiveness, the rosary, deliverance--taught herself English with one of the pastor’s (in whose house she hid) books, and survived the genocide well enough to become a distinguished employee for the UN, though only one of her six family members (besides herself) lived. It is stories such as these that convince me that God has a way of speaking in any and every context.

For a long time, during the trip especially, I tried to find a theme--fear, suffering, love, isolation, success--that was capable of bringing every single person together. Each one I came up with is all well and good, but as I was convicted--graciously so, of course--by my teammates for every sour attitude, every grudging comment, every denial of personal issues, every preoccupation (such as running and blogging) that kept me from ministering or simply doing the work God had brought us there to do, any temporary lack in faith, I saw that I can hold myself to a higher standard, and I should. To do this, I need God--for anyone to do this, I believe, they need God. It may not explain why atheist athletes win ten gold medals and live a long life, or why tasteless musicians become multi-millionaires, but when I got sick less than a week in--102.6 degree fever, two days of bed-rest and no food, severe back and intestinal pain kind of sick--God gave me the kick in the pants I needed and could not have received or understood any other way. I can see no reason why God would use both my biggest fear and my least accepted Biblical teaching--getting sick in Africa and the spiritual gifts of the New Testament--other than to bring me closer to Him by completely surrendering my expectations so that I would be able to return home to America with my own story to tell, that it might encourage others in their faith.

Though sickness prevented me from training for skiing and cross country (more than once) in the way I intended, I feel as though the few days I did run and do ab workouts and exercise by hauling bricks and playing with kids were enough to allow me to bounce back. More importantly, I was able to focus on the tasks at hand, and realized that some things--mostly related to God--are more important than training or even school sometimes. Due to translator availability, respect of privacy and time constraints, I was unable to personally conduct interviews or hold formal team discussions on genocide, and there was really no quantitative data that facilitated my project objectives. But through the many memorials we visited, peer-led devotionals, and casual conversations with my teammates, I learned more about myself and what it means to be a Christian in the world and not of the world than I ever could have imagined, or achieved without surrendering my expectations.

With all of that in mind, I have drawn these conclusions with regard to my writing, professional or otherwise: 1) the glorification and spirit of God must be the motivating force behind what I write. While that may or may not mean directly referencing him, I know for a fact that I can and should keep the amount of violence, swearing and sexual themes to a minimum. I believe this is possible without sacrificing original and creative plot lines; 2) relationships both between individual characters and with God are key. As such, I will endeavor to create innovative but believable connections and interactions between characters; 3) I have to accept the fact that poetry might be the genre I explore and publish first before undertaking a novel project. As my best creative writing throughout the trip has come in that form at the times where my emotions were most passionate, I know I will have to learn how to channel that skill into prose, and that will take time; 4) I have to accept that it is impossible to please or entertain every person, and if I use my relationship with God as my foundation for all my writing, I must recognize that whoever does not have the Holy Spirit may not appreciate what I write. Still, I hope that they will come to at some point, and I must be content with that.

In the end, the best answers I can give to the questions like “how was your trip” or “what was your favorite part” or “what did you learn” are “life-changing,” “growing closer to God” (largely through discovering my ability to speak in tongues) and “God as defined in the Christian Bible is the answer to everything,” respectively. Some may find that unsatisfactory, but whatever is said, Rwanda changed my life and solidified my passion to become a writer all at the same time, in the course of 22 days. That is what I call a January Interim Experience.