Day Fourteen

So Norton Antivirus, which acts more like Norton Antichrist, decided to declare that the Word file containing my journal has a virus. Not only did it make such a declaration, but it also permanently removed it from my hard drive. All without my knowledge, until I tried to open the file and it prattled on about what it had done. I didn’t even know it could do that! I know I certainly don’t recall giving it that kind of authority. Thank goodness I’m keeping the journal online, too, otherwise I’d just be out of luck.

Today we went to the movies to see "Pink Panther," but on the way I had a little mishap. Mrs. Sabet and I left the house to pick up May to take her with us. We were kind enough to bring her some rice, chips, a drink, and some fruit as a snack, as well as go out of our way to pick her up. We ran into some traffic on the way and immediately she began complaining about it. Not just regular complaining, like, "Oh this traffic is terrible!" but she was actually blaming it on her mother, as if her mother were the one responsible for all the traffic in Dar es Salaam. Not only was it her fault for the traffic, but also her fault that we were going to be late and "miss the entire movie." Then she rejected the food we brought her as if it were nothing (despite the fact that Mrs. Sabet and I are fasting, doubly rude) and demanded that we go out of our way to pick up some other food for her, overlooking the fact that it would make us even later for the movie that she was so desperate to see the entirety of.

She went on and on like this for ten minutes, near tears in all of her complaining, until finally I couldn't take it anymore. In the past every time she's started in, I've reminded myself that I'm a guest in their home and it isn't my responsibility to parent their children. I can feel that anger rising up in me about to explode, but I've always had the restraint to keep it under control but not today. What made me furious is all of this complaining is about material, transitory, and totally superficial things. And when she starts criticizing her mother, it's really painful for me to see because I know how much her parents sacrifice for her. Her mother is a kind, sweet, caring, strong, humorous woman who has done so much work for the Faith and humanity that I can only hope to accomplish a third of the same. Not to mention that right outside our car window it's immediately apparent that we are in the fourth poorest country in the world. Little children are playing in sewage and trash infested rivers while others don't have enough to eat or drink or proper clothes to wear. People toil day after day after day for maybe $10 a week. And here we are in our air conditioned car listening to May moan about not getting the food she wants, the clothes she wants, everything she wants in a timely manner.

So finally I just yelled at her to be quiet and stop complaining all the time, that all she did was complain, complain, complain and it was incredibly bothersome and unnecessary. I could see from the corner of my eye that Mrs. Sabet's eyes grew a little bit, and May immediately fell silent for the rest of the trip. I know it wasn't my place to say, but I just couldn't take it anymore. I can't stand ungrateful, privileged children and it's made all the worse by them being in the middle of one of the poorest countries on the face of the planet. Mrs. Sabet didn't say anything, but I think she was sort of glad that I said it. Or at least I hope she was. The last thing I need to do is offend my hosts.

So, the Pink Panther was hilarious. Dr. Sabet is back in town. I've finished the Annual Report, and I'll finish the filing tomorrow and begin working on the National Convention. I'm very tired and still on the fence about what I said today. God is testing me with this little girl, and I don't like it.