Through Wells of Compassion
True Story of my Journey in Zimbabwe, Africa
    Before I left for Africa, I knew that I would have many stories to tell upon my return and that is why I faithfully kept a daily journal. I wanted to remember all that I did and all that I experienced, but better yet, I wanted to be able to relay all the details of this experience as they had happened.
     Another reason I wanted to write my story was because many people are very skeptical about organizations who, through television, magazines, or even in the mail, request money to help people in developing countries. They show poverty in different parts of the world and ask the public to help the poor. One commonly asked question among the skeptics is: “How do I know that my money will really go where it is promised?”
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    I have to admit that I sometimes wondered the same thing too, yet deep down, I wanted to see for myself, not so much where the money was going but the poverty itself. Though there are people who live in poverty everywhere in this world, many of us seem to be blind to it because of what we have. Despite the fact that sometimes what we have is very little, it still amounts to a lot more than others have in third-world countries.
     In January 1998, God opened the door for me to go on a short-term mission to Africa. I had dreamed to visit Africa since my teenage years. After watching Alex Haley’s movie Roots, I fell in love with the people of this culture and vowed that one day, I would go to Africa. It was, however, a dream I never thought would come true.
     I learned many things during the 6 months I prepared for this mission, and some of them, I learned the hard way. For instance, I learned that one should never look at a tourist guide when going on a mission because these fancy booklets are made just for that, tourists. These guides are wonderful tools if you are planning a vacation.
     However, the expectations of a vacation do not compare to those of a mission, and I found that out after I got there. I had been told by World Vision about what to expect out there, but looking at these guides masked the poverty. After looking at a tourist magazine and reading up on the country and city where I was going, I saw how beautiful it was and my expectations were much higher than what I came face to face with.
     First, I expected to be a short-term missionary in a large city, and I was. Second, I expected to be in a wealthy city, (so thebook said!), and again, I was. Thirdly, I expected to volunteer with children who had been lost, orphaned or abandoned, and I did. But the rich concept I had read about had instilled in me the idea that I would be working in a shelter, with all the technologies and facilities that are available in the twentieth century. The country was still beautiful, but the poverty I saw had not been portrayed in the tourist guide.
    
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