Without Expectation

One lesson that has been reinforced during the last few months is the pointlessness of having expectations. The only appropriate expectation to have is that nothing will ever work out as you had initially expected. If you go into an activity as simple as going to the super market with the expectation of finding exactly what you are craving, you will almost always leave disappointed and with the exact opposite. Having expectations will almost always let you down, but at the same time, not having expectations leaves an overwhelming space for you to be surprised. Learning how to not have expectations allows a flexibility that almost always has the same result – that things will work out unexpectedly and exactly how it was supposed to. Things almost always seem to work themselves out here, once you let go.

A large part of why I stayed in Uganda was to work on the development of Halle and my One Mango Tree project. We had a women’s artisan group all lined up and had already begun working with them on product designs. The one thing I probably should have expected, was for it all to fall apart the minute Halle left Uganda, which, of course, it did. I spent a few days seriously questioning my decision to stay in the country with so much of my purpose based on hope that things would fall into place.

One of the Ugandan participants on January’s program had been calling me on a daily basis for the few weeks since the trip had ended. I was reluctant to answer out of the fear that he would be asking for support that I do not have the capacity to give. Finally, on one of those days where I was very down, I picked up his call. He invited me to go to Namuwongo and learn about his organization – the Youth and Women’s Framework Organization. Hesitantly I said yes and a day later was on a boda boda out to the same part of Kampala where the aforementioned women’s group is based. I knew within moments that I had found One Mango Tree’s first partner organization – exactly as I had not expected.

Two days after my first meeting with Twalib, my persistent and dedicated Ugandan friend, I brought Rebekah (fellow GYPA Kimeeza leader) with me to meet the women’s group on a Sunday afternoon after church. Waiting for us we encountered over 50 women, dressed in colorful wraps and wearing handmade jewelry, sitting on mats under what is probably the biggest tree in Namuwongo. We were led to the front where we sat and listened as the various leaders spoke to us. Without ever having mentioned an interest in purchasing products, the women praised God and repeated their feeling of thankfulness for our presence and for the donation of our time. Giving them our time was enough to pray and sing and thank God for the incredible blessings he gives us. I was blown away by the amount of power behind my simply showing up.

I was asked to give a speech to the entire group, which I was clearly unprepared for. As I spoke and looked around I would return to one woman’s encouraging eyes and she would nod her approval of my words with a motherly smile that eased me into my own words of thankfulness. Most of the women come from the north and have been displaced by the war, most live in extreme poverty (less than a dollar per day), many are ill…but they come together for their common good out of their own initiative. They support one another with their spiritual strength, their knowledge, and with money out of their own small pockets. I was inspired by their strength and determination and grateful for the value they placed on my time rather than my color or my wallet – two things that all too frequently seem to define me here.

At the end of the meeting we all bowed our heads in prayer. What started as words evolved into a song, the sweetness of which any description cannot do justice. Their voices were soft despite their number or the solidity behind each note. So gentle were their voices as they exhalted a God that many onlookers might critisize as having forgotten about these women. So quiet were their voices and yet they created such a powerful message of meaning and purpose. I kept my eyes closed and listened as their convicted praise drowned out the crying babies and the typical blaring horns of passing traffic in the far too congested slum area. In those few minutes there was nowhere else in the world I would have rather been. I was and am so grateful for my friend’s persistence and for the incredible impact that the donation of a little bit of time can have on people and on relationships. Since that meeting my hope in One Mango Tree has been restored, I have met with the organization’s leaders multiple times, and I am going to spend most of the next week in Namuwongo working on product design, meeting all of the women and conducting interviews so that we can provide artisan’s profiles on the OMT website, and generally getting the relationship between OMT and the women’s group set up before I leave on Wednesday.

I love not having expectations. I love constantly being surprised and overwhelmed by the way that things always work out more perfectly than I could have imagined.