social shit.

I hate that I don’t understand that way things work socially. I’ve yet to figure out how to get people to really like me. I’ve yet to figure out how to know that living your life in pursuit of that is the quickest way to real live hell.
Every social encounter, practically, is a chore for me. I must say the right thing, I must make the right person laugh, I must play the game well and maybe I’ll get the chance to sit at the right table at the D.C. Most of the frustration results from this suspicion that I rarely measure up.
I feel constantly inadequate and unacceptable. It makes my stomach hurt. And I’d like to say needing this kind of social affirmation and acceptance is irrelevant, but that’s just not true. Sometimes there are people you want to know – need to know, even - and working the intricacies of social interaction can make or break you.
We live this stuff; we worry daily about fitting in, we study communication, we write and read books with rules about interacting and talking with people. Regardless of how much we think it really matters or affects us, it does. We know that first impressions mean something, that sometimes it is all about “who you know” (a deathtrap for the shy) and that once we’ve determined someone is awkward (and not in an endearing way) it requires tremendous effort to avoid the influence of prejudice on our future encounters with that person.
We live by “cool,” (or whatever you want to call it) and it can be hell for the unfunny, the unintelligent and the uninteresting; or for the ones who just can’t seem to rise above this social nonsense and self-consciousness.
I want to be extraordinary, the best at everything I’m good at. So when I look around and realize that I’m not, even within my own community, it’s overwhelmingly painful. To me it diminishes my purpose. My worth is based on what you think of me, Greenville College, and it’s certainly not in a healthy way. My motives are all about what I will appear to be, rather than what I’m actually becoming.
So what is this anyway? A pity party? Probably. A chance to offer a disclaimer that I acknowledge what you might think is wrong with me and am working diligently to fix it? On a subconscious level, certainly. Is it the bored but somehow passionate frustrations of a self-proclaimed neurotic suffering from a variety of cognitive distortions? No doubt.
Most importantly, though, this is me getting real vulnerable and reaching out to my community to offer something that destroys my life in hopes that somehow we can share it and make life a little better for each other.
The worth that we place on the popular, on the attractive – the blatant inequality that we promote and produce daily, the easy overwrite of all those who don’t say the right things, act the right way, fend the same cause, destroys people.
We must think about our relationships, we must reflect on how and why we love, and more than anything we must know that we are worth something and that we are inextricably and unexplainably linked, entangled, connected t o the point that if we refuse to love one, to see the beauty and the value in just one, we refuse to love all.
Prejudice is hell, but you and I, friend, we are infinitely worthy.

my night.

disclaimer: chase, in all my lack of discernment i may be wrong, but i didn't feel like this conversation was too personal to post...as i took up most of it. If you mind, let me know immediately :)

caitlin: baby, i just had my favorite night in africa, by far
chase: hey, tell me about it
caitlin: okay.
chase: (bear's whining, i need to take him out real quick)
caitlin: okay. i'll fill the time
caitlin: so it starts with me hanging out with paul. he's spent so long trying to tell me that he just wants to tell me his story so i can know him and his heart, which is kind of weird, but turned out to be amazing. paul is an incredible person and, though he has faults, i will try to never speak harshly of him again...he told me the story of what happened to him in the genocide
caitlin: his family was killed by their neighbors, their friends. they took him, they beat him, they cut his face up with these metal sheets (hence these scars he's got all over) and threw him down this big, well-like hole that they were using as a mass grave, i assume
caitlin: they left him for dead. he survived by standing out of the way of the other bodies that they threw down and stepping up on each one, until he reached the top of the hole and got out. holy shit.
chase: wow
caitlin: then he went back to his house (i think this is the chronology) and found his family dead. all of them. he found his mom and she was naked, so he went and put a blanket over her (i might have told you this already...) the woman who was with the people that killed his family came and stole this blanket
caitlin: paul later met this woman and forgave her, i think...told her who he was
chase: yeah, you did tell me that part
caitlin: after the genocide he was a street boy, an orphan...a compassion international rep. found him and got him set up for an education. he did really well, made a lot of friends, got great marks, etc...ended up befriend the son of the lady who owns the shop he works for...
caitlin: he currently lives in a little house where he supports another boy, some street kids, i think...and sometimes doesn't get paid by the shop owner, so he can't afford rent
caitlin: but he's so generous. he's always giving, always. and he's revolutionized the way i think about giving to street kids and beggars. he talks to them, he really talks to them. tries to figure out their story and why they're where they are. he's so passionate about helping people and loving people.
caitlin: he sees his life this way: God intentionally saved him, picked him to live and now he has a responsibility to help those around him, to understand people, why they do the things they do, forgive them and help them
caitlin: i've met no africans like this
caitlin: it's unfortunate that a lot of the cultural barriers and differences in feelings about relationships have made it awkward and difficult for me to want to be around him and spend time with him. he's constantly telling me how kind i am and how i've given him hope in people and how i am like a sister to him.
caitlin: and i don't deserve it at all...i've done nothing, except visit him every now and then and bring him some stuff to snack on and means to get home at night
caitlin: we met this family tonight (part 2 of the 3 part amazing night) that paul decided he was going to start helping them with food every week
chase: wow
chase: okay
chase: i can only imagine what else happens
caitlin: he makes 5 thousand frank ($10) a month working at the shop...he's going to give at least 1000 to them (per week, he says...i think he has another source of income, though not as much, he says he can hardly pay rent)
caitlin: i have never experienced a person so willing to give out of so limited means.
caitlin: it's amazing.
caitlin: and i've decided to send him support every month. $10-$15 will help him live. and i want to do this because i trust that he's going to do good with it, he's going to use it to help others...and i feel good about it because i've spent enough time with him, has seen the way he treats people and have seen the friends he makes, that i feel i can trust him.
chase: okay, that sounds great babe
caitlin: yeah
caitlin: so part II
caitlin: earlier today i went to deliver gifts that Travis gave me to give to the kids he fell in love with who live in little neighborhoods just below the guesthouse
caitlin: they were little toys and pencils and things...i had gone a couple weeks ago to deliver the letters he sent, and agreed to come back so they could give me a letter to give to Travis
caitlin: so i went earlier today, and it was weird...there were so many kids and i didn't know who was who and which kids were the ones Travis wanted to have the things, and i couldn't communicate because no one spoke in English
caitlin: English, not in English (sometimes i find myself speaking with an African accent...it's weird)
caitlin: so when i brought paul back to the guest house, we went down to the home of the people who knew Travis and i was actually able to communicate with them through Paul, it was awesome
caitlin: and i met Travis' favorite kids
caitlin: there is this one boy named Manuelli (i think that's how you spell it.) A couple days ago Anna told me that she had a photo of him and Travis framed for Travis' birthday and Travis just cried...said he would give anything to be with those kids
caitlin: and they are awesome.
caitlin: Manuelli is a little black Travis, haha.
chase: haha, cool
caitlin: but these kids and this family...they were so beautiful. they were my family. there was so much love, and it was completely comfortable. i did not feel the burden of cultural shit, did not feel weird. and i played with the kids and laughed and sang 'you are my sunshine' over and over
caitlin: and the mom, man. she just kept hugging me and telling me i was beautiful, but not in a weird way. she was like my african mom, haha.
(note: mom, she does not compare to you :):):):):))
chase: Okay
chase: (I have to go in 4 minutes)
caitlin: i can see why Travis loves this kids soooo much. they were so great. !!
caitlin: aw, shit.
caitlin: ...well. it was great. i felt so fulfilled.
caitlin: part 3 was just hanging out with Andy (mills) at a hotel restaurant and feeling completely comfortable with him, probably for the first time ever. felt completely myself, which was something i'd been praying for.
caitlin: tonight, i'm in love with Africa.
caitlin: that's all.

i'm so tired.

i walked a while with you this year
we walked around and faced your fears

i stumbled toward you this time
we made or vows, we picked our crimes

i faced the fires
we walked a while
we kissed the liars
we kissed the liars

oh no the frustrations of the end
oh oh the frustrations of the end
oh no the frustrations of the end
oh no the frustrations of the end
i'm so tired
and full of shit
i'm so tired
pull me out
i'm so tired

i stormed about with you again
and with opposition we fought another end again
another end again

i tasted fire
made the mire
and we freed the liars
we freed the liars

oh no the frustrations of the end
and oh no the frustrations of the end
oh oh the frustrations of the end
the frustrations of the end
i'm so tired
and full of shit
i'm so tired
pull me out
i'm so tired

i'm so tired
of limitations
all the fucking hungry faces,
all the fucking hungry faces

an oh oh the frustrations of the end
oh oh the frustrations of the end
oh oh the frustrations of the end
oh the frustrations of the end

i'm so tired

stay put.

buechner gives peace about relationships as well:

"when you're friends, stay put. So what if it's not all moonlight and roses? what is? Stay put because if you don't, you'll spend the rest of your life looking to find each other in the face of strangers.'

i'm bored...

'to be bored is to turn down cold whatever life happens to be offering you at the moment. it is to cast a jaundiced eye at life in general including most of the all your own life. you feel nothing is worth getting excited about because you are yourself not worth getting excited about.

to be bored is a way of making the least of the things you often have a sneaking suspicion you need the most.

to be bored to death is a form of suicide.'

buechner.


but how do i not be bored?

it seems like the only time when i'm not really bored is when i'm suffering or anxious or worried or heavy-laden...but i don't want to always feel like that...who would?

music is liberation.

kudos to jesse walls for having all the music i love and all the music i want to hear on his itunes library...

and for sharing it.

today i like africa a little more.

photos.

latest batch. these are my favorites so far.

please look at them and give me some feedback.
also don't forget to check out charith's photos.
she's ridiculous.

connectedness was in buechner's top 5

'Your life and my life flow into each other as wave flows into wave, and unless there is peace and joy and freedom for you, there can be no real peace or joy or freedom for me. To see reality - not as we expect it to be but as it is - is to see that unless we live for each other and in and through each other, we do not really live very satisfactorily: that there can really be life only where there really is, in just this sense, love. This is not just the way things ought to be. Most of the time it is not the way we want things to be. It is the way things are. And not for one instant do i believe that it is by accident that it is the way things are. That would be quite an accident.'

Buechner made this conclusion following his ideas about why the Good Samaritan was good...the Samaritan stopped not out of some greater moral strength than the others who passed the broken man on the street, but because he recognized that that broken man was the same as himself.

i think that's why poverty kills me. I think that's why i always turn to extremes to try and somehow fulfill this urgency i feel to do something about people's suffering. when people suffer, i suffer. my family suffers, my best friends suffer. it's the beauty and the beast that is connectedness.(i'm surprised it's only my fifth, sorry to all you non-greenvillians who have no idea what this is about.)Everything thing is connected.

And perhaps the world's biggest problem, its greatest indifference, exists because people refuse to see the poor as equal to themselves... if only they could see that they breathe the same and feel the same and experience the most basic things together; if they did, they would surely do something because there is so much shit...so, so much.

..... moving on.

so what is the purpose of marriage? what is the purpose of that relationship? what kind of significance and attention does it deserve? what's it's role?

i think i've grown up viewing marriage as some kind of ultimate end - marriage was fulfillment, marriage was happiness. So the significant other inevitably takes the role of some kind of god figure and problems happen...or they die and all of sudden marriage isn't the ultimate whatever.

the closer i get to marriage, and the closer i get to God (and whatever ultimacy that implies or entails) simultaneously the more i realize how much stock i've put into something mortal and finite, and how definitive of my character and motives i've let it become. i want to get away from that...i'm tired of idolizing this relationship.

but it's hard because i can't find a balance. how much of myself do i give? how much do i love you? because it's a lot easier to love you than it is to love God, but only God seems to have that dependable perfection i know i need. it's a lot easier to give myself completely to you, to live my life for you and with you and about you, but that's just not healthy...but i don't want to be scared of loving you.

how do i get to that point where i'm loving God by loving you? i guess it's when i can be happy outside of our relationship...which i can, it's just being brave enough to act on it. it's being brave enough to give you up in hopes that i'll get you back.

it's when you stop being my underlying purpose, backbone, support, escape, etc...and it's when i finally stop being a damn light switch and learn to give myself to you and this ultimate relationship with God...or maybe when i give myself to you because of that relationship.

i dunno. but i could use prayers from those great friends of mine who really care.

gods! idols! oh the things i can't get enough of.

today i named my gods. they are these:
fear, me, chase, popularity


and just at the admission of those i felt relief and somehow peace that there is something yet bigger than these things and something compeletly infinite.

it just requires letting go of this hole-laden and comfortable thing that's sinking me, and then crossing those treacherous waters through which i can vaguely see whatever that blinding white ship is that's supposed to be God...and peace.

IT'S THERE! it is.
:)

....

i think i'm just sick of not being sure of anything.

the ants are crawling on my legs.

today i conquered the mighty white Nile.
on a raft.

that's right, i swam and rode and fell into the longest river in the whole damn world and it was awesome.

our guide was a beautifully-built African named Jeffry with a love for western slang...examples of phrases:

"wicked sweet!"
"oh, that's sweet ass"
"oh shit!"
"that's happy days, mate"
(we taught him a new usage for "tight" as well)
and all of this in a real high-pitched, African-trying-to-be-British accent.

of course writing will never do it justice but it made slang seem absolutely ridiculous. and it was hilarious. he was real quirky.

so after 8 hours on the river and all burned shoulders and thighs and noses to show for it (despite multiple applications of spf 50) i am.... we are now better people somehow.

it was also nice to get to talk to (male) westerners for once, since we have very little testosterone to balance our group out. i sat next to a charming aussie named John to and from the river (though it seems like anyone not American who speaks English as a first language is charming)...it was cool but weird.

he spent the majority of the conversation trying to convince me of why i should wait until i'm 25 to marry, no matter how suitable someone may seem...that i need to travel more and live it up and enjoy myself before i'm truly ready for marriage. i'm wondering how much of that kind of worldview is him and how much of it cultural...or at least sub-cultural.

i guess i don't want to be completely independent before i get married. i guess i don't think i need to try more than one person on for size...maybe i'm with someone who makes me better than i could ever be on my own and vise versa and who will continue to do so. maybe i don't need to grow separately to be completely whole. maybe i don't need to 'find myself' completely alone. i mean, i am in africa by myself, aren't i?

i was once again left feeling completely misunderstood...we talked about religion and i felt completely naive...it's much harder describing your faith to someone who has no real religious foundation outside of the post-modern, relativistic view on almost anything like that than it is to someone who at least shares some religious conviction. i guess that's obvious...but i'm amazed at how unintelligent i felt trying to convey the gospel, potentially, to someone with no realized roots in it, compared to the way i would feel conveying those same things to someone who's thought and felt similar things as me. i felt way dumb.

all in all, i listened to some british and american techno on his phone, had my first sip of beer (there was a lot of sun in my head...) ...talked about good movies...and unfortunately our time together culminated in a conversation about the Brazilian (look it up if you dare) and his unnecessarily detailed description of his experience with his ex-girlfriend and hers...i guess europeans are just more liberal about shit like that. more culture shock. anyway...this guy wasn't as creepy as i'm making it seem. it really was nice to be able to talk easily to someone of the opposite sex for once in a pretty good while...i forget how necessary that is...and how relieving it can be, especially when you spend all your time with 12 other girls...

anyway, don't know where i'm going with this. oh yeah, i do now...

i think i was just going to say that talking to john made me realize how young i really am. he's 10 years my senior and is very social...and foreign....and 'cool' whatever that means. it made me feel less alive at first...unsophisticated and, well, naive. but then i felt completely okay with that.

i am young.

i won't deny that i've got a pretty good head on my shoulders...i can't think of anyone who would. but i am young. and that's okay. it's more than okay. it's perfectly fine. and perhaps i can start really believing that's okay and quit trying to always act the equal of all my older friends - in other words, i can stop being inauthentic and perhaps start just being me. and being okay with that despite the things i lack.

i wonder how many different times and in different ways i'll come to that conclusion - the knowledge of the importance of being myself and being honest with myself and loving myself - before it comes to some sort of fruition. wise people have said that progress is three steps forward, two steps back...

but i'm sure i won't notice the development of these traits i want until they've swallowed me up and i've become something even i couldn't have imagined. i mean, that's how it usually happens, right? i think so.

no.

where is this coming from? why do i feel so inadequate? it’s completely self-inflicted and completely uninfluenced by any outside criticism. well, almost.

right now it’s because i feel like i annoy people when i make observations about things or when i contribute to group discussion…at least here. i sub-consciously suspect that the group, the leaders especially, are growing weary of me…but i think i always approach relationships with people i’m really interested in getting to know – people i respect and look up to – with the assumption that there will come a point when they realize i’m not what they thought and they just won’t care anymore. it’s a complacency worse than rejection.

most of the time i imagine it. right now, i’m making it worse than it is, but that’s mostly because i have such a low opinion of myself and i don’t know why.

i can take care of my things, you know. i know you’re just trying to help but sometimes i want to crawl into a hole when you imply that i can’t take care of myself. i think that’s mainly because this is a weakness i already know i have and work to fix, and it’s painful when it’s reinforced by the person who’s opinion i hold in the highest esteem.

then i felt the pang of jealousy in the mention of a name belonging to a person i can’t help but compare myself too, even though i don’t even know them. it’s so silly, but there’s this underlying fear that you’ll meet and fall in love with someone better. someone more stable, someone better with people. someone nicer, kinder, more understanding, less manipulative and with better taste in music…someone more sophisticated, more interesting, less needy, funnier. better.

what hurts me more than fearing you finding a more suitable or wonderful match is the acknowledgment that i actually believe all those terrible things about myself - i really believe i don't have the qualities listed above. maybe i just don't want to see that i do because being insecure is a lot easier than confidence, especially when i'm not emotionally inclined to confidence....i have complete and total faith in my inadequacy…and i'm struggling with how to turn this into something good.

sometimes...

i'm completely overwhelmed at how great my friends are.

paul.

we just arrived in kampala and i’m elated. i was swimming in a haze in Rwanda, and i didn’t even realize it until i left and i could breathe easy again. i’m sick of the genocide. i’m sick of Rwanda and i’m not entirely looking forward to going back for practicum.

something ridiculous happened last night.

we’ve become friends with a boy/man named Paul who works in a craft shop in downtown Kigali, Rwanda. Paul lost all his family in the genocide and is only supporting himself by the grace of the some friends whose mom owned the store he’s working at. this guy’s had it rough.

he’s a smooth talker, a tad manipulative, but i don’t think his intentions are terrible. i think he has attachment issues and some understandable residual emotional trauma he’s working through. he wants peace, he’s an outspoken humanist, and he’s more compassionate to street kids and vendors than anyone i’ve seen thus far. he’s great.

but last night he told one of the girls in our group that he was in love with her. stifle your laughter, please. this guy was dead serious. he handed her a letter, told her, in front of me and another girl, that he’s loved her since he first saw her and that he wants to be with her. this love he feels his beyond his mind and his wish is that God wants them together. he then proceeded to follow us to another separate date that he had already made us an hour late for.

later, with tears in his eyes after he asked to speak with me away from everyone else, he told me that i was like family to him, that God didn’t create tribes or skin color, only personality, and that i will always have a brother and a protector in Rwanda; he said i’m like the sister he lost in the genocide. then he asked me if i would be the mediator between him and her while i’m in Rwanda for practicum and she’s in Ethiopia. he said he’s lost so much in his life and it’s time he found someone to share his love with. he wants me to convince her of his sincerity, and he wants me to wish them to be together. i owe this to him because of the role i’ve become in his life…

he then told me that his boss was going away for a month and he would struggle with paying rent. he wanted me to help, and despite the unrest i felt about it, i did. i felt manipulated, but i couldn’t blame him.

this event really weirded me out.

i think the core of my confusion/puzzlement/amazement is how seemingly unreal it all is. Paul’s a genocide survivor. he saw his mom killed. he saw people he trusted do it. he’s experienced things i will pray with my entirety i never have to deal with…perhaps i just imagined or expected some kind of strength of character to develop from this – some kind of emotional sobriety that i assumed was essential in coping with something like that. i think i just expected something completely unlike me.

but here he was, emotional immaturity and all, wrestling with the pain of his past and that wonderful agony of new love…and then there’s me, being swept up into it, feeling completely inauthentic and slightly manipulated because i don’t know how to embrace these sentiments he’s more than offering me, much less know how to react to his seriousness when all i want to do is laugh at how ridiculous it all is.

what the hell am i doing here? i don’t know how to help these people. i can’t even get over myself or pick up my own cross, much less carry anyone else’s.

i’m struggling with what i’m supposed to do with not only the reality of pain and suffering, but the mundane complacency of it. there’s nothing particularly extraordinary about the people or situations where pain is so real…these people are just like me. there’s nothing romantic about it at all, despite the kind of emotional gravity concepts like genocide warrant.

the most difficult part is being here, experiencing firsthand, or at least from primary sources, some of the worst shit in the world, and i don’t feel transformed…at least not in the way i was expecting. i think i was hoping seeing this would make me selfless. i would’ve hoped that forming a relationship with someone like paul would really shake me up and get my over myself, but i kind of just want to withdraw even more…

i dunno. it’s just weird.

….

could use some prayer as far as motivation is concerned…i, for the first time, felt the pain of my academic ‘doing-thorough-research-and-writing-a-good-paper-scares-the-shit-out-of-me’ anxiety. we did a presentation on the church’s role in the Rwandan genocide and i was ashamed. i’ve been a half-asser all my life and i’m sick of it.

please pray that i’d be able to overcome procrastination.

also, can i pray for you? how?

heycool!

the song.
the one with the lyrics below.
is now on my myspace.
please check it out.
myspace.com/caitlindaniel

a song.

it's all grey
i'll attempt to want your loving arms
but it's raining down on everyone
and it's okay
i came to breathe the air with you
to meet the people that you knew
would understand it all

and you find
if you hang tight, hang tight
oh, it'll probably happen
if you hang tight, hang tight
now, in my arm.

and do i dare
to claim what i've been lookin for
face the unexpected poor
it's unfair
i asked for all the simple things
i asked to bring them back with me
and make them understand

when you find,
if you hang tight, hang tight
oh, it probably happen
if you hang tight, hang tight
hang tight, hang tight
now, in my arm.

todaytodaytodaytoday

today i realized how inadequately i express all these thoughts and theories and, as i see them, truths that sound so (sometimes dramatically) great and revolutionary and are constantly in my mind…then when they’re out and exposed they get all jumbled and meaningless, mostly shot down before i can get the truth of it out in a way that can be universally understood. is that even possible?

if i could only explain better. if i could only say it the way i feel it. if i could only allow you into the context of my mind and my understanding of and experience with humanity. then we’d be golden, but that’s practically impossible. everything that comes out of me is mere translation; it’s like a different language, and is hardly as good as the original. i should work on developing my thoughts into words more often…

and the more that i think about this, the more self-centered it seems.

whatever. even if it is selfish, there is something significant and necessary about self expression…or at least there’s something necessary about an emotional outlet, and i might as well get things out well…

anyway.

we learned about the Gacaca court system today. Gacaca, meaning “grass,” was developed to maintain the hundreds of thousands of cases Rwanda had on its hands following the 1994 genocide. these courts are held in open air with an audience full of Rwandan community members, and a suspect is tried in front of a panel of judges (elected based on integrity) with witnesses, etc…they’re meant to bring justice, healing and reconciliation to the community, mostly by holding the murderers and all those involved in the genocide accountable for their actions…just like any justice system, but smaller and maybe a tad more primitive, and easier to instigate.

there are some things i don’t understand…mainly that there doesn’t seem to be any kind of clarity as far as what exactly these prisoners and suspects are being held accountable to. it’s not like in the states where the suspected are tried based on specific laws broken. it seems like the standard of accountability is based on what perhaps should be some universal moral code – you just shouldn’t kill people.

man, but people killed out of obedience. i mean, some wanted it. some really hated the people they were elicited to murder. but, as i’m reading in the book We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families by Philip Gourevitch, people killed in shifts, like a 9 to 5 job. they did it because that’s what they were supposed to do, regardless of whether they really wanted to kill or not.

i’m learning more and more that genocide happened so easily and efficiently here because Rwandans are painfully obedient, reverent toward power, and have been since early Rwandan history. There’s a ridiculous submission to a higher power that people will sacrifice even inherent moral attitudes, like the idea of murder as abhorrent and horrific, for the sake of adherence.

so i guess the scenario that confuses me the most is that the murderer goes from growing into a social environment of hatred and animosity towards a certain group of people, learning that that behavior is acceptable and the attitude true, that the government is right, and that if the government says kill, you kill. then, after the genocide, they’re held in front of the remainders of families they helped destroy as the most loathed and malicious criminals, judged for the rest of their lives as the bane of society.

there doesn’t seem to be a lot of justice in this.

i do believe that there are crimes against humanity. that people should know right and wrong and that murder is wrong. but if people, like some of those in Rwanda, are coerced or even just influenced significantly by higher powers to forget these things, it’s perhaps, as Dwight Jackson would say, a crime by the society rather than a crime committed by the individual.

so what should be done?

it seems as if a lot of people are able to heal more quickly after seeing their families’ killers put in jail, or are in some ways made to atone for their actions, but it doesn’t really make sense. it’s a false sense of justice, because the real injustice lies in the lack of strength in character and a general mindlessness that causes the people to, in a sense, live robotically with little autonomy…at least autonomy in thought. this isn’t true for every individual…but it’s true enough of the population as a whole, hence the genocide.

i have no idea what to do or think about it.

people should still be punished, but not in the normal sense of the word. i guess i hold to an ideology of punishment solely as a means of rehabilitation, not condemnation…and i wish i could remove the good person, bad person worldview from that. that the bad people can just go rot in prison with all the other bad people.

i think i just wish there was a general understanding of people. That people would find healing and justice in the knowledge that what happened did not happen because people are bad, or that the killers were evil. I wish they’d find justice, not in sending an essentially innocent person into a tainted reputation, disrespected and hated for as long as his or her memories are around, but that they'd find justice in healing in the hope that their society can and is changing.

I wish we could just stop hating people.

currently unloving.

i'm not particularly please with myself - my feelings and actions towards others - right now. it’s happened off and on throughout the weeks i’ve been here, and it feels like it’s out of my control, even though i know it's not.

i just don’t like people. i keep measuring up all the girls on the team, deciding which ones i like and which ones i don't...it's a different standard every day...that one's really not very pretty, not very intelligent, smacks her food when she’s chewing, looks at me too much, talks to me too much, very fake, doesn’t ever know what she’s talking about. i’m better. i’m better. i’m better.

what the hell…i’ve never, ever had this problem before. i’ve never had so much difficulty seeing people as human. this may be due to the fact that before now i’d always been willing to give my left arm for social acceptance and approval, so i never had a chance to really see the way people really are. or perhaps this is just normal as i’ve never had to spend this much time with 12 other girls – 12 other girls who are also more different from me than anyone i’ve ever spent this much time with. i wasn’t expecting this struggle...and it makes me miss home so much more.

i just don’t want people to talk to me, i don’t want them to look at me, i don’t want them to touch me or ask me if i’m okay…just leave me alone, alright?

this makes me feel ugly and unloving…like everything i’m completely against.

…and i’m having difficulty really caring about or being motivated to do anything. i have no desire to study developmental economics or the Rwandan genocide. i’ve been homesick since i got here and i’m waiting, waiting for this to be as magical as everyone said it would be.

adjusting the will, much less even changing the will, is a serious...well, seriously difficult...thing to mess with. but it can be done. it has to be done or else my entire mission of truth seeking and understanding is completely null and void. ah, but so hard...

what the freaking hell.

caitlin: everyone kept telling me that africa is where you find hope...but i've yet to experience that. perhaps i'm too cynical...but i don't think i've ever felt farther from God
John Brit: when nietzsche says that god is dead he talks about a particular view of god
John Brit: maybe you can't see God there or feel distant because in Africa, God can't be seen yet with american eyes
caitlin: why the hell not
John Brit: because sight is mediated
caitlin: so what am i supposed to do?
John Brit: i think that maybe you ask them how they see
John Brit: you be the caitlin who asks great questions because that's part of who you are
caitlin: okay.
caitlin: i can handle that.

aaaaaaafrica.

I’m going to start blogging something everyday, mainly because i can’t avoid the necessity of an emotional outlet.

this is mainly stuff i had planned on writing in an email to john britt, but i felt it representative enough of my feelings about being in Africa to share with others. so here.

Africa is messing me up a little. I’m not entirely sure why it’s taken me so long to get this out into some tangible form; i think i just needed enough steam.

I don’t really know where to start, except to say that this trip and this place are not what i expected. This is not a vacation, it’s not romantically adventuresome and it’s not fun. Africa really is teeming with poverty and destitution on multiple levels...the spiritual, psychological and physical. I think i came expecting to find people with good ambitions and good priorities simply in need of a savior from outside oppression, but the issues here are much more complicated and holistic than that. This is difficult to come to terms with as I not only want and hunger to free people from suffering and untimely, preventable death, but i want to see it done right away, which is tough because a lot of the crap that cements people in these problems requires more than bread, water and money. Accepting a calling to fight poverty means accepting a task whose end you won’t see in your lifetime, but whose end you crave with urgency in every bone and emotion in your body. it’s ridiculous.

I don’t even know where to begin, and it’s so tempting to just wallow in all the suffering and hopelessness eating at me and never get around to doing anything passionately...or to just forget about it and move on with myself. it’s a tremendous task to understand and reconcile the fact that people, real people like my family, my boyfriend, my best friends, are dying in the streets. I’m fighting to come to terms with my physical and emotional limitations in helping as well. the more i empathize and try to understand the pain of others, the more messed up i feel…I think i’ve decided that my mission has to be for the whole of a suffering humanity before the suffering individual, or else my life will be lived in endless mourning and feelings of shame for having so much more materially and psychologically than most of the world.

It’s hard to balance this urgency with reality…it’s hard to accept that there is and will be suffering no matter how much of myself i give, which exposes deeper struggles rooted in faith and in dealing with human morality, which are things i’d been wrestling with long before Africa. I’m trying to figure out some kind of balance in the paradox that exists between being really affected by and doing something for the poor and suffering, but to also have a healthy dis-empathy…because there’s only so much shit we can swallow before we’re completely emotionally paralyzed and essentially useless.

i’m really starting to identify with Buechner when he talks about how sometimes taking up your cross, before it means making big sacrifices and doing crazy things with your life, simply means to deal with the burdens of your own life. i’m seeing that i’m just as poor and desolate as these people, only in different ways…

far from making me hate America, this trip has made me appreciate my culture and my potential role in that culture. to live in a place where education is way more accessible and to be in the midst constantly of people who yearn for truth and understanding is something i completely took for granted…perhaps the thing that makes me the most passionate about this place involves this rampant epidemic of common misunderstanding. Even more so in Africa than America, people just don’t ask why; they stop so short of truth, either because they aren’t taught to go further, or they just don’t know how…This is sad, mainly because people get lost in belief systems that have no real meaning for them or real personal benefit and potential for wholeness, and they just accept it. This leads to prejudice, greed, dishonesty, legalism and blatant in-authenticity, among other things…there’s so little intellectual development, and i don’t say that condescendingly. I need to think! I need to be near people who think! And I often wonder if i’ll be the kind of person with patience enough to lead others to think and ask questions like the ones that constantly burn inside me…

I’ll close this with something about love that my friend Kirsten shared with me. Her theory is basically this:

Our most intense experience with humanity and being human lies simply in our relationships with ourselves. it’s nearly impossible for us to see the vastness of the worldviews and lives of other people because they’re not as human to us as we are to ourselves. So, if we could fully understand someone’s humanity, we would never hurt them and never do anything to limit them; in other words, we wouldn’t be able to help loving them.

In a sense, being unloving is simply refusing to see someone’s humanity. being annoyed with and wanting to reject someone is placing your world over theirs, and it’s acknowledging that that person is less human than you are.

i’m not sure if i’m articulating this as well as she did, but it’s been a great help and a challenge for me, especially as i spend more and more time with 12 other girls near me constantly…and as i wedge myself without mixing myself into a culture full of differences; to become annoyed with and ostracize someone is to see them as less human. holy shit. and that’s so obvious, but i guess i never thought about loving someone as being something that formulated and achievable – or about being something more than just overcoming the rift that rises in us at all the things we hate about other people. I guess loving someone is realizing that all those things you hate are either things you really just hate about yourself, or are at least similar to those own struggles of over indulgence and self-control and overall selfishness that you know you struggle with regularly. loving someone isn’t necessarily liking someone, but rather seeing them how they are: just freaking like you.

i know, i know…obvious. but some reiteration doesn’t hurt. especially when it comes to love.

i'm so fucking scared of everything...

and i'm sick of it.

vanity all around!

and i realize that all i really want is to be recognized. maybe that's what we all really want:
to be acknowledged for our potential for greatness and goodness.

i want you to read my blog and tell me how smart you think i am.
i want you to listen to my music and tell me how great you think i am.
and if i don't get that affirmation, i will automatically assume that i am nothing.

well. here's to the power and wholeness of Christ who is the ultimate affirmation. our existence, or abilities and everything we do means something because of that. and that is enough.

so it's kind of bullshit that that's so hard to internalize, huh.
well, it can't be impossible.

it's seems as if my thought process has gone through a sort of transformation this year. here's what it looks like:

before the shit:
- my world revolved around pursuing my future for my pleasure and fulfillment, with the illusion of safety and security all around me. i didn't need to worry about death, because it wasn't going to happen to me. i didn't need to worry about the suffering of others, because it wasn't real. people were dying, but not really. don't get me wrong. i understand death. i know i will die. but isn't really a part of my worldview right now. i've too much to do for myself before i die.

during the shit:
- my world is very small. i am very small. people are dying because they don't have the scraps i throw away after dinner. a child just died from hunger. another child just died from hunger. another one. and another...death is real. i will die. i really will. and i might die horribly. i am the girl who was just killed in a car wreck. i was the child who just died from cancer. i am the old woman who has no meaningful conception of her surroundings and no real mental capacity as she waits to die in a nursing home. there is nothing that separates me from this. i am very scared. i can't believe i've been so blind to all of this. how could i live in such ignorance? how could my defense mechanisms lead me to such disillusionment? now i can't trust anyone. i can't trust myself. i might die driving to work. i might die. i might die.

following the shit:
- my world is very beautiful. there is a lot, a lot of bad stuff that goes on and that happens to people, but there is life to be lived despite that. suffering has purpose. death has purpose. despair is essential to seeing the beauty of the redemption. i am now aware that bad stuff really does happen, but i no longer need to live within the illusion of safety i once did. i can accept the reality of death, and i can live despite it, not intentionally ignorant to it.

and, most importantly, my world must revolve around others. this life i've got isn't all about me, mine, my. it is not my sole purpose to get married, have children and have a good job. that may be some of it...but my life is nothing if i'm not first and foremost a servant. nothing matters outside of that. this means that if i'm ever in the situation to give my life for a stranger, i need to. if i'm ever in a situation where i can chose to buy something for myself, or buy something for someone in need, i need to buy for someone in need. it's not my prerogative to be comfortable. it's not my prerogative to be successful...and it's not my prerogative to be rich in anything but wisdom and truth.

my life can't be lived for me anymore.

current thoughts:
i'm sure there's room for a more balanced outlook to develop. afterall, i can't simply dismiss all the desires of the heart. self-interest isn't necessarily selfish.

but i like where this outlook is headed.

so who the hell are you living your life for?

....oh, and so much to learn, i have.

i miss greenville.

i want to live near a college campus all the time, i think. or be a part of one, either in teaching...loving a man who teaches, or working administratively. i miss greenville way bad. i always do. and it's not even missing the place; it's feeling like i need to be there. i need to be where truth is being sought and people are living and getting their hands dirty and really seeking Christ. i need that culture, not the american dream i'm currently living.

i miss you, community. i need you. i want you.

and God said...

'i asked you to have the faith of a child, not the fear of a child...'

...

'have no fear.'

...

'don't fear.'

two weddings in two days

and i want to get married so bad.

are you living 'cause you think it's finally over? are you dying 'cause you think you're gonna die...

the most dangerous lesson in life, i believe, is that no good will truly come to us until we realize that our good is doing good for others. at least it's dangerous to everything we think is significant (ourselves; our well-being).

sometimes i feel like i'm on the verge of things so counter-cultural and so unlike the average thought-process of the teenage kid, and it makes me so sad. i feel like i have this grasp of truth and wisdom. not that i am wise, mind you. i will not make that claim. but that i have a picture of what that could be in my life and i find so few who share that.

i know so few willing to give anyone, especially their enemies, the benefit of the doubt. so few willing to see past annoyances and really try and understand the outcast and the murderer and the idiot. so few willing to see that the world is bigger than what's around them and that truth is not something to ever be fully discerned and labeled. so few willing to love what they loathe and fear the most. this is Christ.

but self-love is often comparable to cancer and it rarely finds it's cure.
i'm learning the distance between believing the truth of something and living it. and it's a trek, lemme tell you. but not impossible, either.

i am stuck in a polarity. i'm trying to figure out how to make life have sense despite all humanity's senseless shit. i'm trying to understand death and learn how to not fear it. i'm trying to learn that i have control of my thoughts and fears and anxieties, and that true peace comes in the heart of the storm, rarely in the fear of it.

"the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself"

but what about everything that could happen to me.
what if someone kills me.
what if someone kills my boyfriend.
what if i lose my mind.
what if i die in africa.
what if.
what if
what if.
what the hell if.

Christ is real. perfect love and peace exist and they are waiting for me, they are. they really are. if only i could know this.

i don't know how to deal with everything. it seems as if there's so much to be understood. there's so much wisdom i've yet to gain enough to deal with these massive ugly questions tattooed on my brain. i have to learn how to cope with the reality that i am not safe. nothing is certain and everything is as endless as I make it, and there's so much more to life than death.
i simply don't know how to live outside the illusion of complete security.

i haven't given up on purpose, though. i haven't given up on the notion that everything that seems senseless and unjust and insane on God's part is completely intentional. like i said, i believe on an intellectual level that Christ is real. And if that's true, then all my hopes of goodness and compassion and understanding are very much within reach. and that if those things aren't fulfilled in this life, they'll be fulfilled somewhere else.

man, Christ is real.

maybe the sun will shine today...either way

you make me feel like being alive again. thanks.
i miss you already.

unfortunately

i can't help but see more than smiling faces and dancing bodies and all the signs of good music.
that should be fun.
that would be fun.
that could be my fun, maybe.

but probably not.

it looks to be my epitome of being whole; being alive.
aware of plight and struggle, but resilient hence.

man, but it's not. because all i can really see is that i'm not there.
all i see are better photos than i take of better people and better, whatever...
i will never be there.
i will never make music like that.
i will never make friends like that.
you want to be christ, but i know i'd be excluded.
by no fault of your own, mind you.
unfortunately society does have a game and we are all pawns and knights and rooks and bishops whether we like it or not.
you mofos can move where you like and i'm kinda stuck moving sideways one position at a time


you are hipsters. you are homeless.
you are vibrant and witty and with a social knack i'll never know

but you're not everything.
you don't have everything.
and you won't have my sins any more.

(and they're not better photos.)

everything is so beautiful.

read Gilead.