At first I felt relieved that I could drink tap water. And that it wouldn’t give me diarrhea. Or worms. Not to mention typhoid or cholera. Relief that I didn’t have to look for an open store with mineral water to drink at 11 p.m. Right after we entered my apartment in Gdansk, I turned on the tap and took a drink. That’s when I appreciated how good it is here, in Poland.
Because just a few days earlier we had arrived at a hotel in Maputo, the capital of Mozambique, at 1 a.m. Exhausted after a long day. First a 200 km car journey to Nampula, then a late evening flight to Maputo. And finally a taxi to the hotel. And no water. I had missed it, although I usually remember. Some in children bottles. Luckily. We couldn’t go to the store. Too dangerous, even for a Mozambican. A hotel was not the kind that has mineral water in it. There was no fridge in the fridge cabinet. The tap water not only looked dirty, but also stank. We fell asleep thirsty.
The second time I felt no relief, but gratitude. And joy. The usual, childlike kind. It was when I took Joseph shopping a few days after arriving in Poland. I went with him alone when it was already dark. Alone. On foot. The last time I went with him like that was a year earlier. In Mozambique, we don’t walk around the town alone. Especially not recently. We’re always with Tony. Then yes. But never after dark.
And not only in Mozambique. Just before flying from South Africa to Poland, we drove up to our friend in Pretoria to take us to the airport. We got off in a nice neighborhood of single-family houses. Well-kept, quiet, green, with high fences and electric wires. X. told us not to stand outside and to go into the garage because it wasn’t the safest place. When we were leaving, she pointed to the house next door. Someone had been murdered there two days earlier. A break-in. And another one nearby. Same thing.
So I went to the store with Joseph. The streetlights were giving off a warm glow. Christmas lights on the balconies. I didn’t have to look back. I could take out my phone to reply to a message. (I once took it out in South Africa and someone snatched it from my hand and ran away.) I didn’t feel scared. No one stopped me on the street to ask for anything. And I felt happy. Free. Grateful for how good things are here, in Poland.
Every time I go to a doctor under the National Health Fund, I feel like I’ve won something. I’m grateful even when I have to wait six months for an appointment. (I made some of my appointments in Mozambique.) What a privilege it is to have access to good treatment under such insurance. And what a privilege it is that you can get it faster or better privately, for relatively low prices. And that serious diseases can be treated at all, from which people simply die in Mozambique.
I didn’t know all of that until I started spending many long months in Mozambique. Where one check-up visit to the gynecologist during pregnancy cost me $240. Where over the last 11 months we spent $1680 on treatment (thank God for the insurance that reimbursed us!) Where more than once, after checking the prescribed medications, I discovered the wrong dosage or a ban on combining two prescribed medications. Where our friend died at home because there was no chance for him to receive any treatment. Every time I go to the doctor there, I think about Poland. That it exists as a possible plan. And I wonder how good it is here.
I felt peace when on Sunday I let Joseph go to the children’s church during the service. I didn’t know a single person there. But I know the church. The pastor. And Poland. I know he was safe. I wouldn’t do that in Mozambique. In Mozambique, I have to see him. I can’t assume that my values are their values. And I have to take into account that my children are half white, and that in turn puts them at risk in that place. And when I went to pick up Joseph, I thought how much easier it is to live in Poland. And how good it is for us here.
I have many more of these daily reliefs and opportunities to be grateful. And so I think it is worth noticing them every day. They soothe a worried heart. They straighten the perspective. Although it is incredibly difficult, because they are so obvious. And reasons to complain lurk everywhere. And they are irritating. It is hard to miss them. But maybe with one stone in the shoe, it is worth to notice the shoe itself – dry and warm. That is the Mozambican way.
Also understand what is the will of the Lord. And train yourself in gratitude. “giving thanks always for all things to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ,” Ephesians 5:20 NKJV
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