First-World Withdrawal

"I'm here...and they have everything...and I can buy it!!" 

Floating through the aisles, I filled my shopping cart with the desires of my heart: Milk, rocky road ice cream, Columbian coffee, trail mix, Pop-Tarts, and more. Nearly to the point of tears, I was flooded with overwhelming joy. Even the store floor tiles shone with the light of Heaven, with the promise of all things good.

And then I woke up.

Yes. I had a vivid dream about shopping at...Walmart. 

There are several things I miss about the USA, and Walmart is, amusingly enough, one of those things. It's funny and somewhat petty, but quite understandable. In America, a.k.a. the land of instant gratification, I'm used to hopping in my car to go to the store and finding whatever I need within a short amount of time (or buying it from Amazon!). Surprisingly (not), this is not the case in the country villages of Madagascar. Not only are many things simply not sold or available, but it takes much more effort and patience to get items. For me, Walmart means efficiency and convenience, more control over my environment, and cold, cold milk. These are the things I lack in my new lifestyle, and when your used to being...well, spoiled...who wouldn't miss them?

Truthfully, I didn't anticipate I would care this much about the lack of first-worldness. Me being me--somewhat rough, tough, and proud--I didn't think I would be this susceptible to deep longing for Walmarts and refrigerators and drive-thrus and bottomless cellular data plans. But here I am, showing my American humanity. I can say with certainty that first-world detox can be uncomfortable, even painful. 

But even with the discomfort of stepping down from the first-world, it is incredibly good for me to do so...even necessary. My current living situation makes my work that more realistic. How could I better understand the struggles of food security--access, availability, and nutrition--than to live some of the struggles myself among the people I'm working with? If I was still immersed in American comforts, I doubt I could be that effective. I'm here to work--to help people--and I need to live in a way that best allows me to do that. Even if it means painfully sacrificing the wonders of Wally-World for two years.

It also helps me to get through the detox when I realize I am actually living out my childhood dreams. As a child living in the Texas countryside, I had the habits of venturing solo around my ranch, attempting to build forts of Swiss Family Robinson style, and reading books about adventurers and pioneers. I was captured by the idea of living a challenging, simple, and adventurous lifestyle. Back then, I didn't care about how close I was to Walmart (which wasn't that close anyway). And why buy what I could grow or create with my own two hands? Simple and resourceful living was my idea of a perfect life. The way I'm living here in Madagascar is what I've always wanted.

So I'm returning to that bohemian spirit. I'm focusing on the world around me, slowly releasing my self-interest for comfort, and walking towards fulfilling my purpose for which I came. It is difficult, but as I progress through my first-world withdrawals, I'm enjoying my new, Walmartless life more and more. 

Although... I would still tear through a thick, bear-infested forest with my bare hands if I knew a Chick-Fil-A sandwich were on the other side.