"Love is a leap."
That's what Ansley told me once. And right this very minute she is in Oslo, Norway with a super kind and talented Norwegian photographer eating fancy cheeses and grapes on a blanket by a lake. Kind of makes you want to leap, doesn't it?
"You take risks in every area of your life except this one."
That's what my dad said when as we talked about relationships a while back. He thinks that it's a funny how I would rather hitchhike or trek across all of Africa than be out there in that vulnerable place where love grows. You know that feeling when you leave a cliff and can't control how your body goes anymore? That's the place I'm talking about. That's where love grows.
"It's all about the risk to reward ratio, Emily."
That's what Fletcher says when he's trying to make decisions. He is much more calculated than me and even by his equations it seems that love is worth the risk; that the deep meaning found in giving and receiving love is greater than the potential pain of love's failure.
When I was in Malawi, the Hayton family told me that there was an AHI position there at Malamulo that needed to be filled. They were trying to convince me to take it and with all the beauty around I was right there, dreaming along with them.
"We just need to find you a man here in Malawi," Sharlene said. "Yeah," I said. "Who do you have in mind?" After a bit of brainstorming, Sharlene said, "Andrew!!! The macadamia nut farmer!" Andrew apparently went to college in South Africa and recently returned to run a large macadamia nut farm near the hospital. "He wants four kids!" she said and then went on about him. About how fun and outdoorsy he is. About how well his business is doing. About his rugged and good-looking features and how much her three little boys love him. I'm telling you...I was completely sold on Andrew and his macadamia nut farm by the end.
"So how am I gonna meet him?" I asked.
Sharlene thought for a second and then said, "Oh rats! He's in South Africa right now and doesn't get back until tomorrow!" I was silently breathing a sigh of relief because I was scheduled to leave in the morning and fly out of Blantyre and back to the states. I get nervous about that kind of thing. About pressurized meetings and such.
Then Shar's eyes lit up and she said, "Wait...he will be arriving on the same plane you are going to leave on!" I could tell where she was going with this. There is only one flight over the weekend that passes between Blantyre and South Africa. "At the airport, you'll just have to keep an eye out for him as he gets off the plane and then introduce yourself!" Shar pulled up pictures of him on Facebook and we were all laughing at the potential meeting--about the beginning of Andrew's and my future!
I went to sleep in Malawi feeling bright about all of the potential in life, a safety in knowing that jobs in foreign countries exist and that people like Andrew were out there--running their macadamia nut farms, wanting four kids, being handsome and single. Since Andrew and I would probably never meet, Andrew's and my potential for a happy future would remain bright--and yes, unrealized. And yes, always an unknown. But, I thought, at least there was potential. At least it was a possibility. As Eve Ensler writes, "There was a future in waiting." Part of why it sucks to take risks in life is that risking can go two ways and you can't know which it will go until it goes. If you just wait and don't risk, it lets you rest in the safety of the unknown. But the problem is that although you get to keep the potential of the unknown, you don't actually ever step into something
real.
At the airport in Blantyre I smiled at the ridiculous thought of "keeping an eye out" for Andrew.
I checked my bags at the gate and navigated through a mass of travelers in the tiny lobby. At the Blantyre Airport you have to check your bags at the desk and then once your plane pulls up you must identify them again to the employees so they will know to put them on your plane. I adjusted my scarf up over my head to keep the sun off my face and then exited the lobby out onto the tarmac where the bags rested in a pile. After identifying my baggage, I looked up to see a steady stream of people filing out of the plane that we were scheduled to board....the plane that had just flown in from South Africa.
A slight breeze was blowing through the tall grasses that lined the back edge of the runway. The plane looked strong and alone out there, shining under the Malawian sun.
I watched the passengers as they descended the steep steps and crossed in front of me into the airport lobby. An ex-politician with an entourage of guards. A woman with two small children. Another woman in a pair of high heels and a black pencil skirt.
Then. There was Andrew.
It was the most surreal thing to watch him walk down the stairs with his red backpack strapped to his back. To see this guy who Shar thought could be a potential match for me--right there! Right in front of me! Close enough to yell to. Close enough to lock eyes with. I just watched him. His brown hair cropped somewhat short. His stride so casual.
I knew in that moment that the opportunity to meet Andrew had presented itself. It required only that I risk a quick run across the tarmac in order to close the last little distance between our paths. Once we talked, I would know something more about him. The unknown would be a little more known. The potential would begin to evolve and become greater or lesser depending on our connection, on his response. He looked like his pictures. He looked fun. He looked kind. He was handsome and looked trustworthy. And just like that, he was
gone. Swallowed up by a gate at Blantyre airport.
That really is the end of the story. Disappointing, right? I brought macadamia nuts back to my family and when I told them about Andrew and our almost-meeting they shook their heads and said, "Emily! Are you kidding?!" My mom was the funniest. She couldn't believe I didn't talk to him. My dad thought I needed to rewrite the ending of the story by writing a letter to Andrew and telling him I saw him in his red backpack at the airport. Other people said they that would come across creepy. Haha.
Part of me is realizing that risk is what deepens every story and it is what shakes off the false comfort and security that lies in the act of waiting. We can wait all our lives and rest in the non-reality of potentials
or we can
experience some endings as well as some incredible beginnings. Not sure what I should do about Andrew and our future on the macadamia nut farm. But if I ever see him on the tarmac again, I promise you the ending will be much better.
