Photo taken from Izla Kaya (izla on Flickr)

We were driving between the Skeleton Coast and Kamanjab when we drove through a small little village carved into the edge of a rocky hill along the dust covered dirt road. It always interests me in whitnessing other’s lifesyles, ways of transportation, careers, and education so I stared out the window intently hoping this villiage would be able to provide some insight for me as to what it’s like as we passed by. The first sight I experienced will be blazed into my mind forever. We had come to a T in the unmanaged dusty dirt road with a sign giving directions to two towns. Under the sign were a group of boys no older than ten years old. As we had stopped in front of the sign, three of the boys began running towards our car, barely clothed, minimal meat on their small set frame, and no shoes on their feet rubbing their bellies asking for food. They chased after our car, sprinting along with their small bare feet on the rocky unpaved roads asking for food. The pain in their eyes was unbearable. It was heartwrenching. I wanted to stop and cradle them in my arms. I wanted to stop and give them a hearty meal. I wanted to stop and give them money. I wanted to stop, hug them and tell them everything would be okay. I wanted to stop and understand their pain. But stopping wasn’t an option for us. Our gas gauge had been running on empty half way up the Skeleton Coast and the last thing we could do is stop and get stranded in a place with no fuel stations, much less cars. As we drove further through the small town, I peered out the window to see extremely small houses… no, extremely small outhouse-sized shacks in which a whole family lived in. The goats and cows roamed freely and the best mode of transportation I saw was a man with his two sons riding a half broken down wagon pulled by a donkey. There were no signs of work, therefore there were no signs of making money to live. There was no farming to provide food because the land was too dusty, dry and hot. There were men, women and children alike sitting along side the road. Some of them were sitting in the dirt, some of them were standing peering out with lifeless eyes. There was a family trying to hitch a ride to the next closest town. It made me wonder what it was that had them needing to go to the other town. There was a small school burried between the village’s living areas. The school was tiny and didn’t look adequate enough to house and educate the children and people of its community. Where did the teachers learn the information to share with their students? So many questions ran through my mind as something dawned on me. These people are living on land that is not suitable for farming, not large enough to bring in revenue, not easily accessible to bring in goods and people, and not connected enough to make people aware of their issues. Meanwhile, I was concerned about running out of fuel to make it to the next town?!?!? My mindset changed in an instant. I was instantly happy to have an adequate roof over my head, shoes on my feet, food in my belly, and a family who has raised me and given me everything I’ve ever needed to be successful. It was then that I promised myself to be more flexible, more understanding, more positive and most of all more gracious for the people and things that I have been given in life.

This entry was posted on Sunday, August 30th, 2009 at 10:01 pm and is filed under Africa. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.