I am already in search of my next country to visit. I plan to go to Nepal and India at the end of this year and I am starting my search for a good, reputable foundation to go work for. I will look into working at an orphanage and also look into work with teens, as I think it is the children who suffer the most. And it is the children who need some kind of solid adult relationship to help them build a strong core. If I can encourage even one child to go to school, get an education and work hard to create a good life for themselves and those they come in contact with, then I will feel I have made some kind of difference.
For those of you who are not aware, I will be relocating to the Bay Area in Northern California at the end of this month. Although I love Phoenix, I know that this is the best time for me to try out other areas I have always wanted to live in. I will be looking into a few non-profit organizations locally that I can donate my time to as well. I realize that with all of the hours in one day, there is more than enough time to lend a hand here at home. I am looking forward to see where it will lead me.
If you know of any organization that might be a good match for me, I would appreciate the lead. Thank you and I will keep you updated on the work of H4KI, Cary Rasof and myself as we continue to make progress.
Much Love!
Peace & Blessings,
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Opening Up
It has now been seven weeks since I have been back from Africa. It has taken me seven weeks to decompress, release the suppressed sadness, and allow my heart to open up completely to all I experienced and felt. Many of you have said after talking to me, I haven’t even heard about your trip yet. And as I would go to talk about it, I just couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t find the words because I was still paralyzed by the immensity of the problems that I saw. I knew I had seen something so big, and that so many people had supported me to go over there, and yet I felt like I was coming back empty handed. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone or tell you something less than you had hoped to hear. I began to realize that the pictures didn’t do justice to what I witnessed. And at the moment, my heart could not go to the place where the pain was stored. Uganda, Zambia, Tanzania, Kenya: these places are all filled with children in need, dire conditions where children are left orphaned and hungry. And then I began to think, this is not just in Africa, it IS WORLDWIDE. And suddenly I realized what else Africa did for me. It brought me to my own grief; a grief that I never mentioned on my trip. One I felt was unnecessary to talk about. But now I see the relevance.
My mom passed away a little over four years ago. It was hard for me then, the hardest thing I have ever been through. I stayed strong through it all, I gained a sense of strength for my family that I never knew I had. I continued on with my life and made sure to get out of bed every morning, because life still had to go on. But the hole, the loss, the broken cord cannot be covered up, as much as I may have tried to make it disappear. Africa brought me to my breaking point. The loss of not having my mother tore at me on every moment of my trip. I was not only able to see the pain of the sick, lonely and hurting children, the mother’s who were still there to hold their sick children, the parents who were suffering from their own illness, the hospitals full of despair, I was able to FEEL it with them. I went into that space and knew their loneliness. It CANNOT be covered up. When I think of Smile Africa, of 400 children who everyday, no matter what attempt they use to cover it up, are alone, it devastates me, and I am ashamed because couldn’t I do MORE!
So what more can I do? I can attempt to bring it to your attention. I can look around while I am in the states and see where I can help here, and how I can continue to help worldwide. I was reading an article on a book called The Hole of Our Gospel by Rich Stearns. He mentions that Jesus was described by Isaiah as, “a man of sorrows… acquainted with grief” (53:3 NKJV). He felt compassion for all of those in need that he encountered. When I look at the many losses and family hard ships (my loving grandma’s death in my teens, my amazing and compassionate mom’s passing, my divorce, my father and sister both diagnosed with cancer in the last 3 years, the passing of my aunt upon my return from Africa and a few losses of others close to me) I have experienced in the last four years, I can see clearly now that God has been preparing my heart to be an empathetic one. I broke down into tears the other night for the first time since my trip back home. Oh, and it felt great! And I think I can see more clearly now. I can see my losses as a gift to be much more understanding of the world around me. I can work to open my heart so that I can truly be of service.
Now I can take the thoughts of when I first returned to the states of “how could I have not done more?” to say, “what more CAN I do?” and recognize that the small gestures, contact I did make, was enough for right then. You begin to realize that it is not always what you can bring to them in material form, but how you can just make an impact with your heart. With love. It is holding a hand, giving a hug or even just making eye contact and smiling from a far distance away, that sometimes makes more of an impact than anything material you can give. People, and children most, are looking to be loved and looking for a place to feel safe. To feel safe and to KNOW you are OK, to KNOW that someone LOVES you; isn’t that something we all search for?
Africa is beautiful and rich, not only in it’s landscape, but in its people. It is in my heart forever.
My mom passed away a little over four years ago. It was hard for me then, the hardest thing I have ever been through. I stayed strong through it all, I gained a sense of strength for my family that I never knew I had. I continued on with my life and made sure to get out of bed every morning, because life still had to go on. But the hole, the loss, the broken cord cannot be covered up, as much as I may have tried to make it disappear. Africa brought me to my breaking point. The loss of not having my mother tore at me on every moment of my trip. I was not only able to see the pain of the sick, lonely and hurting children, the mother’s who were still there to hold their sick children, the parents who were suffering from their own illness, the hospitals full of despair, I was able to FEEL it with them. I went into that space and knew their loneliness. It CANNOT be covered up. When I think of Smile Africa, of 400 children who everyday, no matter what attempt they use to cover it up, are alone, it devastates me, and I am ashamed because couldn’t I do MORE!
So what more can I do? I can attempt to bring it to your attention. I can look around while I am in the states and see where I can help here, and how I can continue to help worldwide. I was reading an article on a book called The Hole of Our Gospel by Rich Stearns. He mentions that Jesus was described by Isaiah as, “a man of sorrows… acquainted with grief” (53:3 NKJV). He felt compassion for all of those in need that he encountered. When I look at the many losses and family hard ships (my loving grandma’s death in my teens, my amazing and compassionate mom’s passing, my divorce, my father and sister both diagnosed with cancer in the last 3 years, the passing of my aunt upon my return from Africa and a few losses of others close to me) I have experienced in the last four years, I can see clearly now that God has been preparing my heart to be an empathetic one. I broke down into tears the other night for the first time since my trip back home. Oh, and it felt great! And I think I can see more clearly now. I can see my losses as a gift to be much more understanding of the world around me. I can work to open my heart so that I can truly be of service.
Now I can take the thoughts of when I first returned to the states of “how could I have not done more?” to say, “what more CAN I do?” and recognize that the small gestures, contact I did make, was enough for right then. You begin to realize that it is not always what you can bring to them in material form, but how you can just make an impact with your heart. With love. It is holding a hand, giving a hug or even just making eye contact and smiling from a far distance away, that sometimes makes more of an impact than anything material you can give. People, and children most, are looking to be loved and looking for a place to feel safe. To feel safe and to KNOW you are OK, to KNOW that someone LOVES you; isn’t that something we all search for?
Africa is beautiful and rich, not only in it’s landscape, but in its people. It is in my heart forever.
A long lost post
Here is a posting I found in my documents that I had written as I was leaving Zambia. It is just two little fun stories about our travels from the border and another little silly mishap. I hope you enjoy. It was a good laugh for me to be able to go back and remember...
A few short stories before I tell you about the amazing time I am having here. Our trip from Kenya to Tanzania was probably the craziest experience I have had yet. We had purchased a bus ticket for travel from Mombasa, Kenya to Moshi, Tanzania. It was supposed to go from Mombasa and then stop at the boarder, where we would be escorted to get our visa and taken to another bus that would take us on to Moshi. Well, not only was the bus a few decades old, but a few hours into the trip (which took about 12 hours) the conductor started bringing more people onto the bus. Filling it up way past capacity and people standing in the aisle. Kristina had someone's back in her arm a good portion of the way and then a little girl was sitting on someone's lap behind us and playing with our hair. She was mesmerized with the Muzungu's hair. Well we finally got to the boarder only to have one man sweep us away, telling us to hurry and follow him. Next thing you know we are both on the back of a motorcycle going extremely fast down a long dirt road. I think we both almost flew off a few times, and don't forget we have our huge (well mine is huge) backpacks on our back and I have a small pack on my chest and this guy is flooring it down this bumpy dirt road. All I could think was, "if my Dad saw me right now, he'd kill me!". We finally made it to the visa office, only for me to get off on the wrong side of the motorcycle and burn my calf against the muffler. Well, at least I will have a nice big scar to remind me of Africa. After we get our Visas, the guy shows us our bus and we get on. We were so happy because there was so much room, no one was on the bus, so we both took a row and got comfy. Well, the bus starts and moves ahead about a half mile past the visa office and then stops and suddenly this huge group of people come rushing the bus, all trying to get on at once. People were telling us we were in THEIR seats, seats we thought we PAID for. We both refused to move because we paid for the ticket and really wanted to get to Moshi and had no other way to get there. Well, I end up getting a child thrown onto my lap and people are still standing in the aisles and we continue on until we get pulled over just past the boarder by the Tanzanian Police. Some kid basically yelled at me to get out of his seat and as I stood up the policeman says to me, "get off the bus". I was just like, "huh"? And I turn to Kristina and I said, "if Im getting off, your getting off.... so get up!"
We both are standing with a few other people on the side of the road with our bags, looking at the cop. And he says, you will get on that bus, pointing to the already crowded "matatu" (one of the public transport vans I have told you about before). There was a man standing on the road with us that was nice enough to help us and make sure we were ok. He ended up talking us into to going to Arusha, another town just past Moshi, and taking a safari. I don't know how he did it, but we agreed, and he actually helped out a lot. He got us a room at a backpackers hostel and gave us a ride from the bus stop to the hostel and just made sure we were taken care of. Well, mostly. Turns out the safari we were SO excited about, (it was at one of the best national parks in Tanzania, The Ngorongoro Crater) was booked! So we ended up agreeing to have a different safari guide take us on a small safari at the Arusha National Park. It was nice and we got super close to a few Giraffes, but it was no Ngorongoro! It was a crazy experience and we made sure to pay a little more to take a "luxury-express" bus to Dar es Salaam.
The other story I forgot to mention on my last blog was my soap story. When we were in Kisumu, Kenya at my friend Andrew's parent's home, I was taking a bucket bath in their bathroom. The bathroom is just a hole in the ground toilet (but nice) and you bucket bath in there so that the water goes down the hole. Well, I was using their soap and it slipped out of my hands and before I could grab it, it just b-lined right down the hole. It was one of those moments where you are just stunned and don't know what to do. All I know is that I am so happy that no one was able to catch me in that moment. After the shock wore off, it was really funny, but I had to go tell his mom that I lost their bar of soap down the latrine hole! She was really sweet about it, but I still felt bad.
Life in Africa, you never know WHAT is going to happen next! I miss it more than you know.
A few short stories before I tell you about the amazing time I am having here. Our trip from Kenya to Tanzania was probably the craziest experience I have had yet. We had purchased a bus ticket for travel from Mombasa, Kenya to Moshi, Tanzania. It was supposed to go from Mombasa and then stop at the boarder, where we would be escorted to get our visa and taken to another bus that would take us on to Moshi. Well, not only was the bus a few decades old, but a few hours into the trip (which took about 12 hours) the conductor started bringing more people onto the bus. Filling it up way past capacity and people standing in the aisle. Kristina had someone's back in her arm a good portion of the way and then a little girl was sitting on someone's lap behind us and playing with our hair. She was mesmerized with the Muzungu's hair. Well we finally got to the boarder only to have one man sweep us away, telling us to hurry and follow him. Next thing you know we are both on the back of a motorcycle going extremely fast down a long dirt road. I think we both almost flew off a few times, and don't forget we have our huge (well mine is huge) backpacks on our back and I have a small pack on my chest and this guy is flooring it down this bumpy dirt road. All I could think was, "if my Dad saw me right now, he'd kill me!". We finally made it to the visa office, only for me to get off on the wrong side of the motorcycle and burn my calf against the muffler. Well, at least I will have a nice big scar to remind me of Africa. After we get our Visas, the guy shows us our bus and we get on. We were so happy because there was so much room, no one was on the bus, so we both took a row and got comfy. Well, the bus starts and moves ahead about a half mile past the visa office and then stops and suddenly this huge group of people come rushing the bus, all trying to get on at once. People were telling us we were in THEIR seats, seats we thought we PAID for. We both refused to move because we paid for the ticket and really wanted to get to Moshi and had no other way to get there. Well, I end up getting a child thrown onto my lap and people are still standing in the aisles and we continue on until we get pulled over just past the boarder by the Tanzanian Police. Some kid basically yelled at me to get out of his seat and as I stood up the policeman says to me, "get off the bus". I was just like, "huh"? And I turn to Kristina and I said, "if Im getting off, your getting off.... so get up!"
We both are standing with a few other people on the side of the road with our bags, looking at the cop. And he says, you will get on that bus, pointing to the already crowded "matatu" (one of the public transport vans I have told you about before). There was a man standing on the road with us that was nice enough to help us and make sure we were ok. He ended up talking us into to going to Arusha, another town just past Moshi, and taking a safari. I don't know how he did it, but we agreed, and he actually helped out a lot. He got us a room at a backpackers hostel and gave us a ride from the bus stop to the hostel and just made sure we were taken care of. Well, mostly. Turns out the safari we were SO excited about, (it was at one of the best national parks in Tanzania, The Ngorongoro Crater) was booked! So we ended up agreeing to have a different safari guide take us on a small safari at the Arusha National Park. It was nice and we got super close to a few Giraffes, but it was no Ngorongoro! It was a crazy experience and we made sure to pay a little more to take a "luxury-express" bus to Dar es Salaam.
The other story I forgot to mention on my last blog was my soap story. When we were in Kisumu, Kenya at my friend Andrew's parent's home, I was taking a bucket bath in their bathroom. The bathroom is just a hole in the ground toilet (but nice) and you bucket bath in there so that the water goes down the hole. Well, I was using their soap and it slipped out of my hands and before I could grab it, it just b-lined right down the hole. It was one of those moments where you are just stunned and don't know what to do. All I know is that I am so happy that no one was able to catch me in that moment. After the shock wore off, it was really funny, but I had to go tell his mom that I lost their bar of soap down the latrine hole! She was really sweet about it, but I still felt bad.
Life in Africa, you never know WHAT is going to happen next! I miss it more than you know.
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