Stubbornness

When someone says stubborn, what comes to mind? Donkey? Moody children? Someone you truly believe is the epitome of imbecilic levels of recalcitrance? If you asked me what first pops into my head at such a mention, I would tell you that the answer is, quite simply, myself. It probably started after my childhood addiction to various genres of books that very few eight year olds have any desire to peruse. Should you be curious, you should know that my diet of reading material has shifted, partly by choice but primarily by circumstance.

This may have been mentioned in posts of yore, but my project in Rwanda has been transferred to other people. I suspect a reason that the donors wanted to pass the project to some Rwandans was my unwillingness to budge. In a rather frank manner, I told the donors that I wouldn't return to finish the project until they had fully developed their plan and had released the funds. I was needed elsewhere and didn't have time to sit idle. That didn't go over well. It wasn't terribly tactful, but it did remove an oxcart load of stress.

Fast forward to last week.

Twas mere days before Christmas and through the compound,
Few azungus at desks or chairs could be found.
For most had epic plans at places quite far,
But most took the bus in lieu of a car.

That left just a handful to hold down the fort,
But plenty of problems did workers report.
'This printer is causing an absolute scare!
Please fix it before I pull out my hair!'
Accounting software took a brief holiday,
For hour upon hour my nerves did it fray.
"Emergency fixes," too many to count,
The pressure to finish them started to mount.
Without any time, my decisions were made.
Consequences of such with me have they stayed.
Although some were happy by the time I went home,
Others said "Fine!" with a "Hmmph" and a groan.

At the set of the sun there was I in great need
Of encouraging words from across the sea.
"This isn't your fault, you cannot feel bad
It was going to happen, no matter how sad
You did all you knew to the best that you could
It will all work out for the ultimate good."
Despite their kind words which I desired so much,
I felt it was I who had pulled out the crutch,
Wrecking the day by my inability
To admit it's not my responsibility.
As I am learning to deal with my own stubbornness,
Which is something I very much need to address,
It's clearer to me that in order to live,
It is me who I cannot forget to forgive.

A Holly, Jolly Grinchmas

It's just a tradition, like cinnamon rolls on Sabbath mornings or picture time in the bleak midwinter afternoons. Yet it is more binding than the Kyoto Protocol. No, it's not a fabulously festive and fatty feast, and not always is there a "Hark! the Herald Angels Sing" in the air. Whenever my sisters and I reunite in the little town of Waverly, an increasingly rare occurrence as of late, we try to watch "The Grinch" movie. Most are familiar with the Dr. Suess story, but we three Roddys of Orient, Africa, and America fill the silent night with raucous laughter during such an occasion. I don't know why, perhaps the good recitations make us rejoice with soul and voice.

But this being my second Christmas away in a strange place, some new traditions are being forged. Yet again, I sit here watching lightning overwhelm a midnight clear. Furthermore, I have been saved once again by angels from the realms of gory Christmas present return adventures or endless traffic nightmares. Will I miss it? Oh come on! You will? I think not. This year will be much quieter than last. It will be the dogs (2-3), the cats (2-3), and perhaps some foreigners (1-3). This Christmas may not have the chilly feel or the dreary look of barren trees, and the grouch deep down inside wants to rise up and follow my festive side, marring it's jolly attitude. But the lights of December in the window and the green leaves keep the grinchy side in line. Most of all, I'm excited for the unsurprising present coming my way in just a couple days, and maybe the chance to go chill out on the mountain. More on that and the number of carol references later. Care to make a guess anyway?

Hurrying for no reason

It's been a long day. It started off with a shower not working, but breakfast distracted me enough to prevent any dissatifaction. Next, we (myself, Dr. Lawson, Julia, and Chris) patiently (some moreso than others) waited for a car to take us to town. After leaving only an hour late, we finally got into town. I knew the car would be going to the airport (in the end, it didn't) but hoped it could at least get me to the other side of town. No luck. With a thousand things to do, I opted to use the slowest means of transport - feet. With 4 stops in Limbe alone, the calories started flying. Quotes, phone calls, "Do you have ____?", and all sorts of other things comprised of my stops. Then a big stroll to Blantyre with stops at the bank, the vet, 3 computer stores, and an office supply shop. By the time 12:30 rolled around, it was game over. Essentially all business completed. Lunch, grocery shopping, and hiking filled the next 3 hours, at which point I discovered something. Even though I had covered nearly 20 km on foot, it was one of the most productive days I've had in Blantyre.

Here's my theory. First of all, I walked alone. When others walk with me, it's a compromised pace, destinations that don't pertain to me, a less efficient route, and a significant dose of whining. Second of all, in this case, walking is better than driving. When driving, there are always lots of people, and I am typically in charge of transporting all of them where they need to go. Since selfishness isn't a virtue and because I don't rule the world, it decreases my personal productivity. Finally, walking ensured that I only went where I needed to go and had time to think about what I needed before arriving.

All worked out well. I finished my shopping, crushed some calories (a pizza in this case), and trudged back to catch hospital transport just 15 minutes before it left. So, today's lesson is that if you want to get something done quickly, do it in the slowest manner possible.