Written while living overseas during the Somalia incident among other frustrations of working solo in a far-off land filled with more than a fair share of what life can dish out.

Why do we do it?

This job, this red tape, this maze of regulations we learn, fill out endless forms, ooops - wrong block, signature card not on file, do not pass go, lose a turn.

Up at 4:00 am, load the vans, drive 6 hours, hike 6 hours, then 6:00 pm sleep. Curse contracting, accounting, exchange rates, the system.... you just want to lay down and weep.

Count tent poles, wax skis, justify your bottom line, and untangle a web of rope. Budget due tomorrow, five-year plan too, by the way we’re reorganizing, and it may effect you. Just how is a body to cope?

Long hours, short nerves, frustration levels high, sometimes.......this job’s not enjoyed. Misunderstandings with foreigners, sad news from home, my best friend has just been deployed.

Barriers to phoning, barriers to funding, barriers to ordering supplies. Then out on a program, you get giggles and laughter, some insight drawn from their eyes...... you’ve touched a life, you see, and that matters to me, more so than I can deny. Because sometimes.........sometimes.......making a difference means more than making a living. And that’s why I do it.

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