Gifts and Given

Gifts and Giving

Perhaps the greatest opportunity given to Peace Corps volunteers… is the chance to awaken to the reality of how blessed one really is to have grown up strong and educated in a country screaming with wealth, freedom and prosperity… Imagine how many people in the United States will in one day complain about: not having enough of something, losing something tangible in which they were attached, or not being able to do something they wished they could do… but… woe… if they only could be given a broader perspective… of the reality in which most human beings inhabiting this plant live… daily… and throughout their entire lives on earth… freedom… yes and no… within and without… all people are free to accept and enjoy the life given them… but why so many people with so much wealth should struggle so immensely to find even the simplest enjoyments in even the most basic things… seems silly right… perhaps then it seems more silly that those with so little have smiles stretching across their faces… much of the time… like the smiles of people you may find on this blog… and for what reason… they live in a stick house… they have no car… no health insurance… no dental… they do the same simple task day in and day out without even a chance for promotion… perhaps they live life fully… perhaps they live freely… simply… because they can dive into each and every enjoyment of each passing moment knowing that they have nothing to loose… Jesus said “It is harder for the rich man to enter into heaven than it is for a camel to go through the eye of a needle”… not so far removed from another thing Jesus said… “If you the wealthy wish to enter into heaven… give up all your possessions and follow me” – O.K. maybe these aren’t direct quotes from Jesus… I don’t personally want to claim to know the guy… but we can imagine Jesus saying something on these lines… so what about me and us… the rich and wealthy from the United States of America… I want to be happy too… yet I am rich… having wealth especially in opportunity beyond belief… and having seen the people of Gossi with so little natural “things”… and being bombarded by children, teenagers, adults, and elders, begging me… screaming out to me… to give them new clothes… give them a radio… buy a new battery for their cell phone… give them something to eat drink, or even smoke… or give them money - sometimes equivalent to a U.S. nickel… and all the while the beggar’s needs are asking me so much more natural wealth than I actually have to give… or am willing to give up… What?.. then… How is happiness to come my way… anyone interested in my spiritual journey… a journey not so unlike the spiritual path of others… Here is my reflection on Gifts and Giving… Today as a Peace Corps Vehicle was leaving the house in Gao… my heart opened up for a Malian man named Mosa… whom I noticed performing his work for Peace Corps with great excellence… Mosa had worn a brilliant smile throughout the past three days I observed his work… as a Peace Corps Vehicle Driver… as a Songri Man growing up in Timbuktu… he spoke a little Tamashek on about the same level as myself… through our communication… I knew that he was familiar with the Touareg customs and traditions… so after watching him load my newly purchased supplies on top of the Peace Corps vehicle: a wheelbarrow, two large bags of cement, a wooden mortar and pistol, and a box full of care-packag stuff from the United States… I began asking Mosa about his family in the home he was about to return… after dropping off the Peace Corps PCMO and her husband… upon hearing a little about Mosa’s lovely wife and five children I immediately wanted to follow some traditional Touareg custom and send a gift back with Mosa for his wife and children… the Touareg have names describing different types of gifts… this particular gift would be considered a “Tibadar”… so I ran inside and returned with six Ginger Hard Candies… which were gifts sent to me by a friend in the United States named Anna Woofenden. I wanted to give Mosa seven candies so he could have one himself, but only six were given… and upon giving… when I spoke the word “Tibadar” a Tamashek man working a donkey cart who had just dropped off some supplies for another PC volunteer… was just outside the door and saw me giving gifts and immediately approached and demanded his “Tibadar”… Yes this man I had never seen before… did this… Mosa tried explaining to the random Tamashek donkey cart man the specialty of the gift I was giving him but he couldn’t find the words in Tamashek… so I jumped in… explaining that Mosa was a friend… had worked very hard for me the past three days… lifting heavy things… and these little candies, of mine and my wife’s, were “Tibadar” for his family back in Bamako. But regardless of this specialty… the random Tamashek man demanded that he be given a gift too… Mosa then explained that there was just enough candy for his wife and children to each have one of their own… but this didn’t matter to the Tamashek man… like a wild shock to my system… Mosa then gave with laughter a piece of candy to man asking… with persuasion… so we all laughed at the ridiculousness of the efforts to keep the gift from being given… to him… so after this my heart opened up and I spoke the traditional Touareg blessings to the Tamashek man as he mounted his donkey cart and left – candy in hand. In Mali… everything is shared by the family… they do not have the same idea of individual possession of objects… “things”… in the same way that people in United States have objects… “things” aren’t really his or hers in Mali, sometimes, especially those adapting Western ways… but… really the “things” are things to be shared by friends and family… and they are in Gossi… when you make a pot of tea… you must have someone available to offer it too before having a cup for yourself… if no one is present… you take a cup of tea to someone next door… in the Touareg society… if you are seen with a nice new object, like new clothes, or a new motorcycle, or a new tool, friends and family will say… “Beautiful thing now give me money” and they really will expect you to give them money… because if you can afford to buy something new for yourself… then you ought to have enough money to give them something as well… and this really is the way they do it here… especially family… and perhaps this contributes to why most people in Gossi stay poor and happy… you see… people don’t work very hard throughout most of Mali… they do, but… many are not motivated to work all day everyday just to acquire money and objects… they work to supply themselves with the bare necessities, and when they don’t need to work, they definitely don’t… so I’ve observed… they sit and visit… play games… tell jokes… make fun of how ridiculous people are for certain ways of acting… and make tea for each other… many of the Nomadic Touareg people I’ve met don’t envy Westerners and having money… they find interest in the gadgets we have… they enjoy learning a gadget’s purpose and function… but usually they always end up smiling & laughing at its invention… as if it was a silly idea in the first place… sometimes they are really impressed… like my camelpack… an invention similar to their water sacks made of animal skin… but perfected with practicality… and even after appreciating the simplicity… most Touareg will walk away… back into the desert completely content with their nomadic lifestyle and the animals they depend on… some of these Touareg do treasure possessions… like cell phones… and they do enjoy seeing what’s on T.V., from time to time… but usually not with attachment… only a humorous curiosity… they don’t seem to be envious of those who own one… even though they don’t… if they want to watch T.V. they simply go to a person’s house who owns one… are welcomed by the household… and they watch… if no one owns a T.V.… and there is no T.V. to be watched… no one really cares because no one has something, possesses something, that everyone else does not… another words… the community sharing that goes on… keeps everyone from being envious… and even keeps them from wanting to attain something that has not been attained… like having a T.V…. so what about me… I am living in this community too… and thus I am expected to follow the social norms… right… sharing everything with my friends, family, and neighbors… but yet in all reality I am not completely integrated into their community, nor am I truly accepted as a member of their society, I am more seen as an alien pretending to be something I am not really… and the imagination in this pretending is important for me and the community because without it… why should I be accepted at all… or why be there… I am not one of them: linguistically, blood-related, even ethnically and religiously… truthfully… I do not fully understand their motives, reasons, and especially all the particular aspects that drive their society…. And yet… despite our imagination… and to complicate matters more… within just a couple months living in the Gossi community… I have acquired a larger house, a bigger more beautiful wardrobe (measured in how they value fabric), and more primitive as well as technological possessions then even some of the more wealthy members of society have in their household… for example… the woman I see everyday at the water pump has two… maybe three… sets of clothes… I have acquired more than this since arriving in Mali… Yes… people enter the mud house of Bess and I… and are shocked in disbelieve, mesmerized by all the possessions… “things”… as if they were conjugated out of thin air… so what to do??? How can I be a happy… being seen as a rich man… living amongst poverty in their perspective… and yet deprived of the luxuries I am accustomed to in the United States… and to make the struggle more difficult… I am constantly being asked for more than I could actually give… if I always gave when asked… O.K. I will tell you… the answer I have found to this riddle… I am going to live the impossible… possessing and conserving my “things” without any attachment… amongst the objects existing in my house… which… being the tools they are with a given purpose – a use… exploring only potential use. If I share in the traditional manor… they will be destroyed before understood and fulfilling purpose… the “things” that is… thus I must master what back home I learned as practicing Charity while exercising Discrimination… what does this mean… Charity with Discrimination… it means using good judgment… rational thinking… to conserve, share… and make use of my possessions so that they may serve the greatest potential with the best possible outcome… giving when needed, using when appropriate, and conserving when necessary… for me this means teaching those people who have a willingness and patience to learn the complications of a more sophisticated technology… and in the end… giving the beneficiaries of the “things” to those who actually need them… because like Jesus taught… heaven doesn’t come with the natural wealth and possession of “things”… which is why the people of Gossi were happy before I arrived, before “things” arrived centuries ago… simple because… everywhere life exists… things occur organically… thus… on my part… it would only be a shame for me to make them envious of the “things” they do not have… although I do not want the people of Gossi to exploit the “things” I have brought into their world… at the same time… gripping my “things” too tightly will make me covet the “things” I have brought, and in this way… making me loose connection to the community… and inevitably becoming miserable… So with a heart opening instead of closing… nothing will bring me more joy than seeing these useless and yet useful “things” bring about a practical means of useful service while teaching lessons that are invaluable to sustaining what is a Blissful Life. The other morning Bess and I woke up on our mattress outside in the concession of our home in Gossi only to find a man named Abraheem standing over our bed. Abraheem is somewhere in his late 60’s and still works manual labor all day for six days a week… Abraheem works for a man named Albana (My Gossi Host Father) and does whatever Albana instructs him to do, whereby Albana works for a man named Hamu Cisse and does whatever Hamu Cisse instructs him to do… and as far as the life of Abraheem goes… there is only one repetitive task that he does… anyway… the same task he has been doing since he was a teenager… Abraheem is one of the wood choppers in Gossi… he has an ax like thing called a “tootela” and each day he is told what to chop… and so he chops… and this is what he does to support is two wives and dozen children… Abraheem is at the bottom of the social hierarchy in Gossi… because he is poor and has two men above him… working labor… but I admire Abraheem more than anyone else in Gossi because he is the only person I know in Gossi who works hard, all day almost everyday, and he never complains, he never has a bad attitude… in fact… he is very positive most of the time and even keeps important the traditional Touareg greetings and blessings… Abraheem is one of the few adults in Gossi who has embraced me with equality, and has given me the much needed patience needed when learning a new and difficult language… Abraheem wears a Turban that is ripped, well worn, and faded with many years working under the hot Sub-Saharan Sun. Abraheem has arm muscles comparable to young guys in their twenties or thirties who work out every day in the U.S…. guys who pay money… drive distances… only to lift metal objects… (probably U.S. guys go to gyms to meet females and show off their bodies)… Abraheem’s arms look like that of a 25 year old… but the rest of him looks like 60 or even 70 in years under the sun… If a blind man were to shake the hands of Abraheem… the sensation would be that of shaking the hands of knight wearing armored gloves… his hands are thickly callused from his labor… my host father Albana once asked Abraheem to chop down a dead tree on the other side of the wall outside the home of Bess and I… I thought it sad that the old man be prompted to do this work and figured that I should help… to my amazement… the old man chopped and worked the strong dense tree wood with about 80 percent more efficiency then my effort… when a gigantic throne went through his bare feet… Bess screamed… but Abraheem didn’t flinch… he pulled it out like he was removing a fly and kept hauling the thorny branches away… I couldn’t understand what he was made of… or what had even made Abraheem… so on this morning… when Bess and I woke up with Abraheem peering down on us… we were not afraid in the least… only embarrassed to be caught still in bed under our covers at 8:30am… in Gossi… everyone rises with the sun (except maybe a few teenagers)… especially people like Abraheem… and usually at this time Bess would be on a run and I would be doing my morning readings… but because the cold season is surprisingly cold… and Bess and I had argued about pointless nonsense late into the night… we were still in bed under the covers… why Abraheem showed up… I still don’t know… haven’t asked… never will… he has never come so early in the morning before… but there he was… he told us in Tamashek, “People should rise with the sun each day, wake up and say Thank You God!!! Thank You God!!! (God is called Alla ((Arabic)) or Minsinarr ((Tamashek)) for Abraheem) and that it is not beautiful to wake up so late. I responded saying that he was right… and I felt very embarrassed… but happy that he had showed up and delivered his very important message… like an angel sent by the Lord… only Abraheem… so later that day when I was walking through the Gossi market with some fabulous brand new pink Touareg cloth I had purchased as a gift for a very special friend back home in the States… a friend who has given me priceless gifts… in which I would attempt to acknowledge with the fabric… so anyway… heading through the Gossi market with the cloth I had already turned away three people asking me for money, because they noticed my new cloth, when suddenly I bumped into Abraheem… whereby he asked me to buy him a new Turban because he also saw my new fabric… usually I don’t like to give to people when they demand to be given to… Like the random Tamashek man and the Ginger Hard Candies that were meant to be “Tibidar” but coming to know a little bit about the Touareg ways… there in the Gossi Market with Abraheem, randomly, on the day of his morning visit, I let my heart open more… in response to his… I felt the joy of giving… not wanting to buy something for Abraheem right after turning three other people down… I told Abraheem to tell me what color Turban he wanted and how many meters he wanted… he said “Light brown and 5 meters”… so I told him the next time I returned from Gao I will bring him exactly this gift as a “Tibidar”… he smiled, laughed, and said O.K., when I returned he would appear, but I still wonder if he really knows that I am actually doing it… because I bought it yesterday… and will return with it tomorrow… regardless… I know it will be a good gift… an act of Charity made with Discrimination… and knowing Abraheem… he deserves it because he is a real Touareg soldier… I am not… he owns one Turban worn to endangerment by his hard work… I have already acquired four turbans in Mali… barely weathered in my brief experience with the Touareg… Yes… I wish I could give to everyone like I will Abraheem… but I can’t… and if I could… and did… it wouldn’t feel right… somehow… so Gifts and Giving… it is the way of happiness… but only if it feels right to the giver’s discrimination… I am a happy Peace Corps Volunteer because of this… I don’t spend much of the U.S. Tax Dollar given to me in Mali… spending it on selfish ends… traveling away from my village to a larger city, buying drink, smoke, and food, or other simple pleasures that disappear with gratification… I am eating only when I am hungry, and often only what is available, I am not going great distances to get what I want or feel I need… I am realizing more and more what it really is I need in the End… my money and the great extend to which I travel is, for me, figuring out the best way to help the people I encounter… the other day I went to the post office in Gao… I was expecting a package with my rock climbing shoes from home… eagerly I wanted these “things”… but the package I got was not the one I wanted… at first… so at first I was sad to not have my climbing shoes… it would now be at least another month before I planned to return to Gao and maybe get the shoes I want… I want only to afterwards go expresses myself on the rock… a release of mine that does little for others… but something for me… littler did I know… but the package that was available to me… then… contained something invaluable… it was a package from an older friend named Anna Woofenden… after examining the “things” that came in the box I read the letter that came with… I was sad to hear that Anna had been down with a case of Lyme Disease… she said in the letter… the package was a pleasure to her… to think of Anna making the choice to give to someone as far away as me… even when in a state of ill feeling… reminded me of the power of giving… imagining how happy it must have made Anna to know that I would be glad to receive her gifts at a later unknown time… it made me happy knowing that she found the joy of giving despite her down condition… I prayered that she was uplifted… probably she has been… her letter spoke volumes… and little did Anna know that the little Ginger Hard Candies she threw in the box would later go to the wife and children of Mosa… and even to the random Tamshek Man… as well as my wife Bess who really enjoyed them because they helped her sore throat… perhaps Anna had such hopes in mind… and what coincidence that the night before Bess and I received Anna’s package we were both looking at some pictures of Anna and her family on our computer… pictures from her brother’s wedding we had not viewed in weeks… wedding of Louis and Kelly… so Yesterday… before I bought Abraheems “Tibidar”, Turban, I was eating a delicious meat sandwich by myself in a restaurant in Gao… It was about 10:00am and I hadn’t eaten anything all day… the sandwich was fabulous… and then… I noticed a street boy sneaking a peak at me through the screen of a street door… when I said to myself… my belly is full… I will not go hungry again between now and dinner… so I stood up… walked out of the restaurant and gave the last half of the sandwich to the boy… no one saw this… even better… the expression on boy’s face was one of pure fear… perhaps he was afraid of what was happening… probably he didn’t believe it… or expect it… he took the sandwich and ran away… I laughed inside because I knew how delicious the sandwich was… having been eating it my self right before giving it away… I knew that the sandwich would taste even more delicious to the boy… and I was happy… mostly because I could recognize in myself the joy that this boy was now feeling being given something so freely, spontaneously, unexpectedly… I knew because others have been doing the same to me… throughout my life… in many places… all I could think about was Gary… the man who brought a collapsible Kayak to me here in Mali. I remember a strange ecstasy overcoming me upon realizing that the Kayak was actually coming… what blessed me the most… was realizing how good people in this world may be… I may never get to know much more about Gary… we could never meet or chat again… and even if this was the case… I know I will always remember Gary because his gift, his generosity, has spoken volumes and touched me about as deep as anyone ever could… so please… for me… for you… think of someone who has touched you… think of something that has been given freely to you… think how happy receiving that “thing” was… and how it was really the giving that made it so truly awesome… now think of some person other than yourself who deserves for whatever reason… to feel that same joy… what could you do for them… buy them… make them… cook for them… I don't know... probably something fun and enjoyable...