What Are We Workin' With?

When I was a wilderness counselor in North Carolina, I had a difficult time adjusting to the frigid conditions of living in a rustic camp setting.  Every morning during training, I'd wake up energetic but grumbling about the cold.  A fellow counselor said something to the effect of, (and this in no way resembles a direct quote) "It's gonna be cold every day.  So I don't need to get up and say, 'Oh, it's so cold.'  Don't be surprised!  It's cold, and that's what we're working with.  We just gotta accept it."

Zambia recently had presidential elections.  Running elections requires a staff, who of course need to be carefully selected and trained.  Naturally, many of those who are most qualified (with relatively high education and English-speaking levels, as well as a good understanding of democratic process) are teachers within the Ministry of Education.  Naturally, the training coincided with the first week of the school term, and the elections themselves with the third.  Naturally, transport limitations mean that even a commitment that lasts only a day requires one to leave a day early and come back the day following for almost any destination beyond 20 kilometers.

So I found myself, pumped up with so many plans now that I'm relatively well-integrated into the community, at a school severely understaffed for the crucial first days of the term.  On more than one occasion, I found myself  alone (or with one other staff member) at school at the time classes are scheduled to start.  In a school with an enrollment of over 700 pupils (though of course pupil attendance is also an issue), this is an overwhelming prospect. 

I remind myself, however, that problems are opportunities.  When half the pupils don't come, it's of course unfortunate.  Except that it means that all the pupils who have come have space to sit at a desk, rather than on the floor, and not trying to manage 100 energetic pupils means I might be able to actually teach a few.  Missing all of our administrators and most of our teachers in the beginning of the term is far less than ideal, but if it means that elections are carried out fairly and peacefully and ensure the stability of a young nation, perhaps it's a sacrifice worth accepting. 

So every day, when I confront a hurdle in the path that looks so clear in my mind, I have to remind myself: "You know this is an issue.  Don't be surprised when half the staff is missing, or half the pupils don't have pencils, or a small achievement you've worked really hard for is swept away by someone with a different perspective.  Don't be distracted by what isn't there.  Figure out what is, and do what you can with it."

I'm getting better at being undeterred by little frustrations and reveling in the high points that unfailingly balance out the low points of every day.  It's a matter of small steps, small victories, and a constant question in the back of my mind: "What are we workin' with today?"