To Give Of Oneself

Giving of oneself is the precise chichewa definition of volunteering. The question that I struggle with as I am coming to define my service here is this: how much can I give? How much /should/ I give?

There is no argument, cultural relativism or not, that I have given a lot just choosing to be here for a term of over 2 years. I give my patience, my creativity every da at school as I try to inspire village kids to want to learn and as I try to spur teachers into using new ways to engage their students in learning. I help neighbor ladies and students with math problems and English compositions when I'm tired, dehydrated, and badly in need of washing dishes and doing laundry (not to mention a bath!). I buy greens & beans from my kids' Moms and watery honey from the students just to support their entrepreneurial efforts, not because I think they're irresistably tasty.

Culturally or perhaps because of my "donor" status, people here are comfortable asking for much more of me than I have been prepared to give They want me to provide the tomatoes they have forgotten when they invite me for dinner, gas station attendants demand the shirt off my back (a nice Obama portrait - he had good taste), a guy I'm working with asks for my one copy of funding proposal literature that I'm teaching him, a basketball for the one Malawian I know who *isn't* gaga about soccer, or guys I don't know wanting to take my bike to the market a 5min walk away. While some of those requests are plainly ridiculous, there are many things that make me uncomfortable to refuse these requests... usually the incidents that start teh backbiting gossip train a-rolling and leave me feeling guilty, angry, annoyed, and more sure that I do not want to raise my future children in Malawi. But if someone is in need, how can I in good conscience refuse her? How can I be sure that those needs that get vocalized are sourced in necessity and not extortion? Malawians' precedent for leaching from local nonprofits and community based organizations is more concrete than most house foundations here, for crying out loud. The hand is perpetually open.

My friend the sister assures me that acting on those things that help me secure my peace of mind is enough. So if I am not at peace, maybe I could try giving away my things until I have nothing. But after that, will it be peace that awaits me there or only longing for the few things that remind me of my American-born place in this world? I could practice yoga 8 hrs/day and survive on handouts but I'm pretty sure I'd still love drawing and cooking and music and books and would want them around me to satisfy my mind.