A Lesson Learned

After waking up before 7am for five days straight, I'm ready to sleep in a little bit on the weekend. Saturday is my day to sleep in, but not this weekend. At 7:30, I was abruptly woken up by jackhammers outside my room (which is just a few feet off the street). I couldn't believe that the one day I want to sleep in, the jackhammers outside are braking cement, and the whole house is basically shaking. I did my best to get back to sleep, but I had to just accept that I wasn't going to get to sleep in this morning. A few hours later, I was eating breakfast upstairs when I heard Mounia call from the kitchen, "Ryan, ajii" ("Ryan, come"). She had prepared several platters which included bread, pastries, olives, dates, and a huge platter with 2 pots of tea along with several bottles of water. She had me help her take the food downstairs and take it to the workers who were working outside to repair the waterlines. They took a break from their jackhammers and shovels and came to accept the snacks with much gratitude. At first, in my selfish, Western, and frustrated mindset, I almost asked Mounia why she was giving them all this food. I mean, they woke ALL of us up at 7:30 with their jackhammers, they've made a mess of the streets and have given us headaches the past few days with all their noise and dust, and NOW you're giving THEM food? What are you thinking!?!?!

Since I couldn't take all the trays down to them in one trip, she made me take the rest while she stayed inside. She wasn't being rude, but culturally sensitive (can someone even be culturally sensitive in their own culture.... or are they just being themselves?) I assume that culturally, she didn't feel like it was a good idea to go take the food to them. She could have done it in several trips but instead she had me do it. If she were to serve the (all male) workers, she might be looked down upon by others in the neighborhood as this kind act of providing the workers with some food might have been portrayed as something more (if you catch my drift). When a single lady does something like this for a group of males, it may carry sexually-charged connotations... in this culture, in this situation.

So, I was making several trips out to the workers bringing them food, water, tea, and so forth. They were so appreciative and I brought smiles to their faces. Yet, I was completely humbled because not only was it NOT my idea to bring this food, they assumed that this was a gift from me and it wasn't. It was these very workers that I was frustrated at and wanted to have nothing to do with. After all, they woke me up with their noisy equipment at 7:30 and I didn't get to sleep in (poor me). I felt completely unworthy to be serving this food when I had such animosity, or frustration, toward them. I learned a lot in this simple act of service. Never could I imagine myself, or someone else, taking refreshments and snacks out to some construction workers back in the States who were working with jackhammers at 7:30 on a Saturday morning in my neighborhood. For Mounia, there was no question of if she should bring them something to eat and drink. The question was how much can she bring them so that they are full and content; not tired, hungry, or thirsty. I will never forget this simple, yet powerful, act of service. May we all learn from this simple act. Would the world not be a better place if we took the time to serve our enemies (this morning at 7:30, they were my enemies!)? I think Jesus said something along those lines....