The toughest part of this job is not being able to understand one out of every three words.
It’s not the hunt for cell phone reception in a field or the dependency on only battery-operated electronics.
It’s not the lack of amenities or things that comfort me at home.
It’s not millet meals spiced with sand.
It’s not the grueling heat or hundreds of insects with biting powers.
It’s not the loneliness and separation from my foundation of family and friends.
The toughest part is looking into their eyes and wanting to give them a new school, hospital or rain for their crops and knowing you can’t.
The toughest part is wanting to change the world and admitting you can’t.