Page 9 of Five Goodbyes

“Life in the Congo is amazing. The landscape is beautiful, the people are kind, and it’s certainly been a challenge living in a country torn apart by conflict, but rewarding to see how much Mora is needed,” Philip says.

Mora reaches up and grabs her husband’s shoulder. “How muchwe’reneeded,” she corrects. “You’re working morning to night helping this community and your skills are invaluable.”

Philip reaches up and squeezes her shoulder and I clearly see the love and respect between them. I’m grateful my best friend has found a man to love as much as he worships her.

“It's difficult to describe what it's like living here,” Mora says. “There are moments of incredible joy, but also times of heartbreak and frustration.”

Philip nods in agreement. “It’s well worth it, though,” he says. “Every single day, we feel needed, and know we're making a difference. Even if it's as simple as teaching only one child how to read, rebuilding one small home, or giving much needed care to one patient who hasn’t seen a doctor in years, if ever, it's more rewarding for us to be here giving than for those we’re serving.”

I look at Philip. “I’m impressed. I’m also glad you’ve found a way to spend your time. I was worried you’d get bored of living like this and pull Mora out of here within weeks.”

“Not a chance of that happening. Outside of her looking at my beautiful face every day, I’ve never seen Mora this happy. She’s come alive here, and I can see her soul. She was meant to do this type of work with the skills she’s both been blessed with, and also worked her ass off to master,” Philip says.

“He’s right, I’ve found my true calling in life,” Mora says. “Enough about my greatness, though. What have you guys been doing besides your little fender bender in a company vehicle?” Mora asks us.

Jasmine laughs at Mora’s comment. We have a bit of a drive, so we go into more detail of our car chase that led us to being pushed off a bridge . . . and plunged into the water. Only we can make light of a life-or-death situation. The sad part is that every single one of us in this vehicle have been in these types of situations over and over again. We either make light of it . . . or find new careers. We reach the small village Mora and Philip are calling home for now.

I look at Philip, who places the SUV in park. “So, this is where you guys call home?”

“Yep, isn’t it amazing?” he says, not using any sarcasm. He obviously loves it here. Not everyone would be as enthusiastic as him.

We step from the vehicle and look at their compound. I’m struck by how simple and rustic it is. There’s no running water and the small amount of electricity they appear to be using is from generators that are shared with others in the village. Only the small hospital seems to have its own dedicated generator. Oddly, at the core of my soul, this feels like home to me as much as to my friends. There’s something beautiful about stripping out all of the distractions of the modern world. This makes it easier to focus on family and friends and to listen to others instead of staring into an electronic device day in and day out. Mora and Philip show us around, as they introduce us to the other volunteers, who seem just as happy as them to be here.

Over the next few hours, we get to know the community, chatting with multiple people, listening to their stories, and learning about what they’re doing. Mora takes us on a tour of the local hospital, where she works tirelessly to treat patients with limited resources. Philip introduces us to some of his students, who are eager to practice their English with us. We also see some of the housing he’s helping with rebuilding and teaching how to make the community more efficient.

“You have to meet one of my favorite kids. He’s an absolute crack-up,” Philip says as we’re surrounded by children who range in height from my knees to my shoulders. All of them are excited about the arrival of new visitors.

“Heyyyy, Mr. Cool guyyyy,” a boy, no older than six, says to me. He throws his arms in front of his small body, pops his thumbs out and gives them a little waggle.

“This is Faraji who has an uncle who moved to America twenty years ago and sent back video tapes. They were decades old when he sent them but have somehow survived still to today. Most of the tapes are of the television series,Happy Days,and Faraji has watched them more times than we can count. He’s doing his best impressions of Henry Winkler’s character — Fonzie,” Philip says as he ruffles the kid’s head.

“It’s great to meet you, Faraji. Do you like school?” I ask as I bend down to his level.

He concentrates for several moments on my question then gives a half-hearted smile along with a shrug. “Mom says I need school. Some is okay. I like reading time, but my fav is playtime, especially soccer.”

“What is your position in soccer?” I ask.

His grin grows huge. “I’m the goalie and I’m the best.”

I give him a high five. “Nice. I’ll have to come visit the school while I’m here and maybe I can play with you,” I tell him.

He narrows his eyes on me. “Are you any good?”

I burst out laughing. “I can hold my own, but I’m sure you’re a lot better.” He nods as if this is of the utmost importance. He then runs off and we continue our tour.

I can’t help but fall in love with Jasmine even more as she sits on the ground while several little girls play with her hair. She looks blissfully happy. It’s hard to drag her away even after a couple of hours.

We finally head to Mora’s small home. I’ve never been extremely wealthy, but nothing in my life compares to the poverty in this place . . . and I’m shocked to learn that this area is safer and wealthier than many places in this country. I have a feeling we’re going to get more involved by the time this visit ends.

Mora loves her place, and as the sun sets, we find ourselves sitting outside surrounding a campfire as Philip expertly makes us dinner that smells delicious.

“I want to hear all about your adventures so far being here,” Jasmine says as we sit back and relax while we all look above at the incredible night sky with stars shining so bright it’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.

Mora smiles. “I’m so impressed with the resilience of the people we’ve met, and how bravely they adapt to the challenges they face daily.Sadly, there are over one hundred thousand deaths a year by murder, then mosquitos kill a million more, and other animals take thousands of more lives. On top of the dangers of humans and animals, they also deal with disease and extreme poverty. This is such a beautiful country, but there’s an extreme amount of poverty. It’s heartbreaking.”

“I guess I get so involved in my own life I don’t think of how much suffering there is worldwide,” I say, feeling extremely bummed.

She smiles as she pats my arm. “Don’t get bummed. I’m talking about the triumph of so many brave men and women, and especially the children. They are bright and optimistic and I’m so glad to be here.”

---