Saturday, 30 June 2012

An Old Man with a Hessian Bag


My dear friends and family,
I am so happy to be celebrating this quiet autumn morning, looking out on to lawn, falling leaves, sunshine and shade.  I laughed when I overheard Sr. Ann (with whom I live) saying to Ellen our Regional Leader on the phone just now; that, "Marie is taking a day off today .." laughing at myself that is.  Like most people, I am good at beating myself up with inner compulsions to work and work!  Sometimes I catch myself measuring off my days; my father lived to 90; maybe I have 25 odd years left to count on?  At times I have the sense of life passing me by without resting by the wayside to observe what's going on around me; so many simple gifts are mine every day; gifts deserving time to ponder, else I'm in danger of skittering on surface water like a dragon fly, merely flitting; not exploring inner depths.

An old man crossing
Since returning to Zambia and life in Lusaka, I have continued with an inner restlessness.  How I love to be in the market, in the village, traveling about, moving with ordinary folk!  I live in our Regional house here in Lusaka and my role is more back up support; requiring more technological flair on my part.  It's okay.  Lusaka too seems to be rapidly expanding too, into shining malls and enmeshed traffic but the other evening I saw a very old man crossing over a two lane feeder highway bringing evening rush hour traffic to a surprised standstill.  He crossed over tentatively, dragging an old hessian bag with him of empty tins and plastics, hobbling in front of the waiting bumper bars, as he finally hauled his bag slowly up and over the concrete kerbing.  What a marvellous image of our poverty, I thought.  I could sense the other drivers drawing in their breath and pausing; all thought of racing for the next light replaced by concern, and perhaps an inner jolt of who and how we are.  It would seem that we human beings need to step back like that at times, in quietness and courage in order to move more mindfully though our days.

Drug and Alcohol Work
I work two days a week in Serenity harm Reduction Programme, Zambia (SHARPZ) as a drug and alcohol therapist.  I love it. Drugs and alcohol misuse seem to be on the increase here and I'm reading everything I can lay my hands on, as well as having lots of training in order to work with people, where they are in their courageous attempts to regain their freedom.  In our living, it is easy to fill our emptiness and poverty with something or other.  Usually we cannot free ourselves from such addictions on our own; we need the support from family members and friends.

Luka
Luka hardly spoke and when he did, it was to murmur to himself.  He had been taking marijuana and his sister and her husband brought him straight from five days of Detox.  I felt so out of my depth, I asked another Counsellor to help in an assessment interview. Does he want to come to "see" us twice a week, I asked Luka?  Luka mumbled that he does not "want" to come, but he will.  Wow.  Time for me to take a breath!  He was 27, single and dependent, but a fine figure of a man.  The following weeks of halting conversation (me asking questions, Luka responding in barely audible responses) seemed to indicate trauma as a boy, through loss of his father and then not long later, loss of his mother, with Luka shutting down emotionally by the time he was 18 and since then with increasing depression, numbs himself with drugs.  Such misery.  What amazed me was the measure of love in that family and the way they were counting their monthly bills to calculate what they could set aside for Luka's rehabilitation.  His older sisters and brother had taken care of him over the years but these moves around Zambia probably intensified his confusion and feeling, "a problem for them," as Luka termed it.  Yet, Luka also bears in himself and carries family grief and loss.  When he dresses himself carefully, agrees to go on family excursions, his sister and husband are overjoyed.  Small steps; let us hope and pray!

Coffee
I was so pleased to welcome Jane Bertelson here last month.  We repaired to my special coffee spot, where I confess; I ate most of the food!  Another Australian often at our place is Lana Turvey, a volunteer on loan for a year from the Sydney office of the Pontifical Mission Society. (PMS)  My favourite text from her is, "Wanna coffee?"  Oh, joy.  Now that is a distinct plus to city living!





The owner servant

There once was a man           
who owned a donkey. 
They were friends.                             

the donkey always served
him with love and devotion.                                      
They spoke in silence.
It was a soundless alphabet
Which bore fruit....

Each month for one day
The owner
became servant.

When asked the reason for
such a strange custom           
he answered

Only by being a donkey
have I attained wisdom.

           
Poet Artist, Assisi 2006



Lots of love, May you each be with God, and God be with you! (Blessing of St. Clare of Assisi)

Marie