Leaving on a Jet Plane...

Written for Friday, July 24

I woke up just in time for the power to go out. In the dark, I made the final preparations for the journey home. It was a little bit magical as the house came alive amidst the blackness. In a sort of silent and dark ballet, they moved and arranged. Tea was set. Bags were loaded. All was ready. And under Steven's careful umbrella, I was hurried to the car. And in the rainy dark, dark of the all-too-early morning, I slipped away.

At the airport, I watched the sun sneak up over beautiful Lake Victoria. And, although, on this, the morning of my departure, a thousand thoughts vied for my attention, I was quiet. Calm. Peaceful. So I reveled in the glory of the morning. Then, gathered my things and boarded the plane with peace in my belly, hope in my heart, and a sense of purpose.

Awakened, by all that I've seen and experienced, I find that I'm learning to dream with my eyes wide open.

---

P.S. Thanks for coming with me on this amazing journey! Your love and support was essential and appreciated. I hope to have pix and videos up in a week or so!

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Aidchild Part 2: Thanks 2 U

"Come see the fire," he says rather calmly.

"What? Where?!"

"Just there outside the door."

"What?! That's really close, isn't anybody worried, shouldn't we do something?" I anxiously query.

Gracious and calm as ever, Tom smiled and said, "Don't worry, it'll stop in time."

"How?!"

"It just does."

"Aren't you nervous?" I ask.

Then Robert chimes in with a little laugh, "No. I am enjoying."

Whoa. So to recap, the field about 10 feet shy of the property is on fire. I can feel the heat. Taste the smoke. I can even hear the snap crackle pop. But no one is bothered. In fact they are entertained both by the event and my concern. So, since I seemed to be the odd man out, I plunked down on the porch to watch the show. During this season the farmers set their fields on fire to ready them for planting. It's easier than clearing them manually.

But snack time with the kids was calling. So we did what anyone would do. We sat down and had a picnic while the world burned behind us.

We drank sodas, ate candy, played with stickers, and giggled. I felt sticky hands holding my own. I could taste the candy. I heard the sizzling of pop rocks in 10 little mouths.

Somehow, I got so lost in those moments with the kids, that not until lunch was called did I look up and notice that, just as my friends had predicted, the fire had stopped well short of harm's way. While the song's meaning differs, I couldn't get John Mayer's music out of my head:

"My dear, we're slow dancing in a burnin' room."

---

I've spent the last few days at Aidchild's main campus in Masaka. Two words: class act. What an incredible operation. The attention to detail was awesome. If you read the "Gulu Regional" post, you'll recall that the AIDS ward there was like being in the room with death itself. From talking with friends, it seems many other hospitals in just about every city have similar stories. But not there at Aidchild. I had to remind myself that these kids had AIDS, because like their counterparts at the Mpigi site, these little and not so little ones (18 months to 18 years+) were healthy, happy, and loved. Like this guy...

Or this beautiful girl full o' smiles...

Thanks to many of YOU and your general awesome-ness, we were able to bring a BIG load of supplies! Tons of clothes. Medical stuff. Seeds for the garden. School supplies. And of course a healthy dose of toys and candy as well!

Some of it was put to immediate use. Other stuff will be saved for the new school year (they start in February here). Here's the fun part, many of the toys will be saved for Christmas. You made a big dent in their Christmas shopping list!

Simon Peter, who is such a precious soul, runs up to me sporting his new basketball jersey, saying "I'm the Captain! I'm the Captain!" He's beaming. Me too, because I'm proud of all of YOU for sharing your love with these beautiful kids. Thanks so much for being generous and active in your compassion!

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Safari

Here's the thing, Safaris - or game drives - are cool. We saw a Lioness (the ever coveted sighting). Elephants. Baboons. Giraffes (my favorite). Antelopes. Cobs. A snake.

It was beautiful. Majestic. Powerful. Even a little scary at points.

Seeing dawn color the sky over the Nile was amazing. The decision to ride on the top of the van on the luggage rack was a carefully balanced dichotomy of genius and stupidity.



It was that glorious, wind blowing in your hair, "I'm king of the world" kind of moment. Also, I've also never identified more with a windshield. And let me just say that a metal grate on a bumpy road is no lazy boy. I have yet to address the wisdom of our decision to put ourselves on an elevated platter for the animals - a veritable smorgous board of American grade white meat. A few moments of very real fear occurred within that context.


But a couple of hours is enough. This is especially true when combined with the 2 hour Nile cruise (think small boat, not Carnival) from the day before which added hippos and alligators to the wildlife roster. Also, there was also a cool waterfall. Still, I don't think I'm a go-on-safari-for-a-month kind of girl. While I loved our day in the wild, that box is checked. A very cool check, but checked nonetheless.



In sum:

Gorgeous day.

Beautiful creation.

Cool animals.

Zero deaths.



I'd call that a successful rendezvous with nature.

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Dark Skies

My friend Dan asked me a bunch of cool, random questions about the nights here and other miscellaneous things. I thought you all might enjoy the answers as well. :) Unfortunately, I don't have cool pix to go along with all his great questions!

----

Q: As you have a few nights left, I was wondering if you could tell me
what it looks like there at night. Are the stars bright? Is the sky
clear? Can you see the Milky Way?
A: I'm all tucked in for the night under my mosquito net. It creates the effect of the princess bed of every 9 year old girl's dreams.

Inky blackness. Diamonds on velvet. The stars are glorious. I can see the Milky Way. Provided there's no cloud cover or pollution (I'll talk about that later), the nights I've had the pleasure of observing have been so clear. Amazing. If it weren't for the snakes and bugs, I'd lie on the ground and simply look up for hours. It's breath taking how dark it gets, especially if the city blacks out. Saw a few amazing shooting stars as well!

My friend Tom turned the headlights off tonight when we were driving to show me how dark it is. Wow. Pitch. Black. Most people won't drive at night. Super dangerous. Even with those that do have lights, its like a crazy video game/trip. Insane.

Q: I imagine its a place with no light pollution (or any pollution for that matter). You're so close to the
Equator, can you see the southern constellations?
at night?

A: Now here I have to admit my not being a very good space nerd in the astronomy department. Makes me want to take an astronomy class so I could know exactly what I was seeing. Anyone interested in joining me back in DC? :)

As for pollution, it depends. In Kampala it's worse than LA. A lot of smoke and exhaust. Out in the bush where we stayed with Maggie was crystal clear. Light pollution varies with the area as well, but save a big city or two, it's very minimal - at least in the places I've stayed.

Q: What sounds do you hear? I imagine that there are no traffic sounds. Are there any
crickets? Or do you hear wild animals?

A: I hear dogs barking and lots of different bug noises. Crickets. Some weird, kinda stucatto buzzing sounds. Cars. A lot of times I hear generators in the background too, but not tonight. Power is super finicky here. Random animal noises to be sure.

Regarding wild animals. Yes. Sometimes, but that's all I'll say on that for now as I want to save my cool wild animal story for another post.

Q: I picture Uganda as a dusty place, but perhaps it is not since it is so near Lake Victoria. Have you had the chance to see Lake Victoria? I've seen pictures and it looks beautiful.

A: Yes very dusty here. Dirt is this rich red color and most roads, except highways are not paved. It's been especially dry lately, so it's extra dusty.

I have seen Lake Victoria in a drive by out the van window. One of the things I hope to do next time is to take an afternoon to explore on the way out (it's very near the airport). I learned today that there are a few islands close to the Uganda coast that have some tourist activities. Need to investigate that one more.

Q: Are you ready to go [i.e., come home]?

A: No, I don't think I'm ready to come home.

In my experience, reverse culture shock is always tougher than most people think. Because you're back, everyone expects business as usual. For them, an insignificant amount of time has passed in your absence but you've just had this life altering experience. And no one gets it. Its hard to work through all that sometimes.

For me, this has been so fulfilling in some ways yet has also left me dissatisfied (I think in a good way) that makes me want to do more. So the challenge at home will be figuring out how to take all that I've seen/experienced/learned and apply it to my future. A big part of me wants to do this full time. Another part of me loves space and knows that I can still support a lot of good work through finances or volunteering. I'm just trying to figure out what the best possible course of action is for my life. A LOT to think about and process to be sure.

----

Great questions, Dan! Thanks for sharing the journey and being such a great listener/reader.

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Gulu Regional

Written for Saturday, July 18's events.

How can I paint a picture for you that could convey the magnitude of the disparity I witnessed Saturday? How can I possibly bring you with me to Gulu Regional Hospital? To let you try and take it all in as the interpreter explains that the family right there jsut lost their mother. To let you stand beside me in a small room brimming with cribs and heartbreak? To allow you to feel that same helplessness as I did in the AIDS ward where death hangs heavy like blanket over every bed? To go outside to a crude patio where patients are lying on thin mats and concrete? To join me in the "lobby" - a dirt yard with no roof where family members or even patients themselves must cook their own food? To see the look on Pricilla's mother's face as she begs me to pray for her daughter who has cerebal palsey and can't move from the waist down? To become totally enamored with Pricilla's radiant smile and infectious laughter as we play together? To hope with everything within you that this little girl could dance in the sunlight vs being paralyzed in a dingy room?

To visit three hospital wards, all bursting at the seams with humanity, and only see two nurses and no doctors? To try and understand how the medical cubboards at a hospital could be as bare as Old Mother Hubbard's? To stand still for a second as the enormity of the needs swims around you? To let yourself take that moment to be totally overwhelmed? And then, to take a deep breath, and promising to allow yourself to grieve later, to somehow, someway, put all of THAT somewhere, so you can begin to DO SOMETHING? To lessen, even an iota, of the suffering? How can I show you all of that?

I can't. In fact, I'm still pretty sure that I haven't really even processed it yet. But for my sanity and yours, allow me to tell you what we we were able to do.

In a situatution like the one above, there is no one day fix. No quick cure. No solution that can bring salvation in a day. Any help we can offer seems greatly inadequate. My friend Pauls says it's like dropping water into a bucket with a giant hole in the bottom. True. And that hole is draining 10x faster than we could pour. Still, something is better than nothing. So armed with hope, we set about offering our "something."

We gave soap. Salt. Clothes. Stickers. Sugar. Prayers when asked. Laughter when appropriate. Compassion. Medicine, lots of medicine.

We sat. We listened. We cried. We held.

My favorite part of the day's events was when we simply served tea and sweet rolls. It was not some mechanical distribution process. It was personal. A way for us to honor their dignity as human beings. To take just a moment to have tea. A non-essential. A luxury. An unhurried moment in a sea of chaos.

And that one moment was beautiful.

I guess that's what I'd tell you if you asked me about Saturday. I'd tell you about the moment we had tea, human to human, with those that suffer more than I can even process, much less understand. And then, I'd weep.

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18 Things

Written Saturday, July 18


Today was a rough day in many respects. Frankly, I haven't even processed the heavy stuff yet. I might still be in survival/get the job done mode. So all I've got tonight is a list of things for which I'm grateful. The number of items on the list corresponds to today's date - a journaling trick that I love and borrowed from a friend at Aidchild.


Here goes:

1- hot water

2- running water

3- clean water

4- mosquito nets (like the one below = lifesaver!)



5- fans

6- the way our new friends say "sure" like "shua"

7- that although I'm feeling pretty rough this evening, I've been super healthy the majority of the trip (so has the team)!

8- the team (Jeami, Paul, Steven, Judy, Abbey, Heather)


9- our driver Gibson's sensibility and laughter

10- our friend/interpreter/comedian/language teacher, Tom

11- stories

12- mornings on the veranda w/delicious Ugandan hot tea

13- internet (just to have it here and the speed back home)

14- dreams

15- Maggie

16- hope

17- peace

18- the sleep I'm about to get



Sweet dreams...

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It Always Comes Down to the Goats

Friday, July 17

For once the cameras were prohibited. The pressure was off to document or capture. Finally I could just experience and feel. The hospital's visitor lobby was more like a flee market, an outdoor patio strewn with blankets, people, and various belongings set up all over. We went looking for Eunice, the girl Jeami had noticed on the street two days ago. She had been treated for severe malaria and discharged. She did not have yellow fever after all. Great news for a girl predicted to die.

Report cards came back from yesterday's hospital visit. Grandma has septic arthritis of the knees. That sucks. Still, at least now she has prescriptions and a treatment plan. Good news is that Mercy does NOT have malaria. Just pneumonia, still yucky but totally treatable with the meds. Best news is that baby Daniel does not have sickle cell anemia, likely a death sentence in his situation. He does have an upper respiratory infection, also treatable. While it sucks when anyone is sick, ot's especially tough to watch kids or the elderly suffer. It's awesome that the illnesses affecting Mercy's family are NOT fatal. It's all so overwhelming that we're just grateful for what victories may come.

Looking out over the 22 acres of swamp and five foot grass, we tried to imagine what Jeami's school might look like. Her dream of building a primary (elementary) school is sneaking up on reality. A location like this would save kids hours of walking and increase their chances of completing their education - especially the girls.

Accidentally, we happened upon an IDP (Internally Displaced People) camp during the land hunt. So, as I understand it, the Ugandan government intended these camps to be a safe haven, a protected area from the LRA. For some of the camps this worked. Sadly, in a few cases, this kinda backfired and this concentrated cluster of families became a target for LRA attacks. As the LRA has moved out from Uganda, many families have been able to move back to their homes. As a result, many camps have shut down or are only partially occupied. This is a good thing.

Still, the images from today were haunting. Hundreds of huts packed together with big white numbers sloppily painted on each. I couldn't help but think of concentration camps...

Abbey and I broke off from the group this afternoon. Our team is amazing but after 10 days of 24/7 it was cool to reduce to two. Time for the market. Yes! My shopping gene has been longing for some action. Got some pretty sweet gear. Placed an order with the tailor - interested to see how that works out; more on that later. As we walked we saw some pretty interesting things.

Picture this: A log cabin in the midst of a bunch of huts. Blaring country music. Selling Jamaican gear while three guys play cards outside. In Africa.

The food market was insane. Piles of spices, sacks of grains, rows of fish, pyramids of veggies, and swarms of flies. Biggest avocados I've ever seen. So I did what any Californian might: bought all the fixins to make some guac. We'll see how that works out :)

Meanwhile, the team looked at more land and followed up with the families we took to the hospital yesterday.

Best part of the day. The counter offer from the land owner to Jeami:

"We will reduce the price per acre if you provide the following:

2 Goats for the elders
10 Iron Sheets"

So there's that. I'm hoping I get to play some role in the ceremonial handing over of the goats.

Back at the hotel it's a live band. Part African. A little awkward Labamba thrown in. Kinda Tracey Chapman style. Like you know the lead singer is female, but the voice and most other indicators are saying otherwise. Um...so...

So there you have it - heavy hospital and IDP experiences mingled with market mayhem, Jamaican log cabins, gender-confused music, and a deal that could only be sweetened with a goat and some iron sheets.

TGIF. :)

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Shoes for Sharon

Thursday, July 15



Hospitals. Ugh. Depressing in any country. A quick free association leads to the following:



- Fear

- Boredom

- Bills

- Pills

- Funky Smells

- Hope

- Help

- Needles



Our day included all of these. Sharon's grandma had knees the size of large grapefruits. We think Mercy has malaria. Again.




Her baby brother Daniel might have sickle cell anemia. Blood draws. Tests. Doctors. X-Rays. More doctors. A few pills, some bills and a come-back-tomorrow for results and scripts.



Thankfully, Sharon wasn't sick but she did need shoes for school.


Off we went. We stopped first at a Bata showroom. Big glass windows. sparkling white (well, relatively) floors and walls. Pairs of shoes neatly lining the shelves. Sharon was walking in front of me but stopped just shy of entering the building. Just stopped. Like she wouldn't be allowed to enter. Broke my heart. Again.


I gently nudged her inside, making every effort to communicate that SHE was the reason we were there. She smiled. A little. Nothing fit so we left. I asked our interpreter to tell her that we left because they didn't have her size not for any other reason. We went to their warehouse off a dusty side street in a dingy space. Never mind that. There they were. Fabulous shoes. A perfect fit. Strong and sturdy (necessary, as they will likely be her only pair beyond flip flops). Stylish, even. She's pretty reserved but man, was she proud. :)



A little girl from back home emptied her piggy bank so Sharon could have something nice. I'm as proud of her as Sharon is of those shoes.



I loved today. Yesterday we saw bunches of kids and got to offer a little help to lots of families. We spent today with just two: Mercy and Sharon's. We really spent time together. We got to address the details, right down to the shoes.

Huts & Holes

Tuesday & Wednesday, July 14-15

The past few days we've been all over Gulu. Hung out with several different groups of bunches of amazing kids that some of our team members and friends back home sponsor. Met their families too. Watching Heather meet her child for the first time and making the leap from paper to personality was super cool.

Seeing Paul knelt down, fitting a child for shoes evoked this awe of the depth and beauty of the gesture. And an instant likening to a scene I seem to recall from somewhere about washing the feet. Its so intimate. So beautiful to engage with another human being in this manner.

Driving. On the way to the market. Jeami stops the van. She sees something but we can't. What is it? A girl, maybe 8 years old. She's walking but looks faint. We give her water. She barely drinks. Jeami makes a decision. She needs to go to the hospital. They take her. We stay behind. Her name is Eunice and it seems like she has yellow fever and malaria. We were told this combo is generally deadly. Praying that we're wrong...we'll know more soon.

What is amazing to me is that Jeami knew. She stopped the van. Derailed our plans. Tried to save a life. I really hope she did. Amazing. So impressed. It is incredible to watch someone so completely in their element. So doing what they were born to do. That's Jeami here. I'm honored to stand with her and support the great work she's trying to do.

Playing jump rope in the village.

Thump, thump, thump.

"Cinderella dressed in yellow," we chanted, "Went upstairs to kiss a fellow..."

It's amazing the stuff you remember from being a kid. Holding hands and showing the kids how felt super cool. Such a fun moment as we jumped together as the rope whizzed over us - the kids wide eyed with mischief. It was AWESOME when we convinced one of the Mamas to join us. Ok, I'll be honest, she schooled us on style points. Her face was beaming as we and the other Mamas cheered her on!

We visited Sharon (a beautiful girl that we sponsor) and her family in their hut today. Man, that girl can smile. To bring some gifts. Hang out. They were expecting us and had prepared a feast of chicken, beans, and the ever present posho (think consistency of over cooked cream of wheat and flavor of tofu). I was humbled as a pregnant woman washed our hands. Blown away that they would feed us meat. Honored to even be there. Excited to make new friends.

Our ever stoic driver agreed to eat with us in the hut. A first time event. Gibson often disappears at meal times. I think he knows where the good food is and doesn't want to roll in 7 Muzungus deep. (Pix of Gibson and I below...)

Anyhow, likely because we were deep in the village and it was lunchtime, Gibson was down for lunch. What followed was priceless.

We're all in this dark hut. We've just had our hands washed. We're now eating with them. The mood sorta seems to ebb and flow from a respectful silence to a lively story then back again. BAM! A shuffle. An arm thrown out for help. Gibson's eyes go wide. Commotion.

Gibson somehow manages to completely fall out of his chair. Normally so composed, he hollers, "There's a hole there!!!" In an attempt to widen the circle to allow more family members to join us, Gibson found the one anomaly in this super clean and level home: the cooking hole - for building a fire indoors. His chair leg got caught and it was all over.

That sure broke the ice. Everyone had a good laugh. Gibson is fine by the way. :)

Maybe later I'll tell you about Obidiah the Chicken Warrior but not now.

So sleepy.

Good night/morning :)

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For Komal

I'm tired. Maybe even a little cranky.



I didn't want to blog today.



But I've been mulling this over all afternoon and I can't not say something.



Tonight is not about Africa.
It's about Komal.



Yesterday my dear friend from India, who does some amazing work over there, emailed me about a 9 year old girl with advanced Tuberculosis that was threatening to take her life. He asked me to pray. Today he sent me this:



"I am grieved to share that Komal's father... did not let us take Komal to another hospital and she died in her home today."



Why? Because she's just a girl. A burden in her social strata. A dowry to be gathered. One less son. A mere girl.



Senseless.



My friend is torn. He's racked with the heartbreak of grief. He wants to help improve the situation but he's angry too. He's trying not to be but who could blame him? He, like me, is struggling to understand a social system that motivates a father to simply look the other way as his little girl dies. That normalizes such a response. All because she's just a girl.



I can't wrap my head around that. Try as I may, I cannot. My Dad would walk through fire for me or my sister. He would do WHATEVER was necessary. Yet Komal's father simply said, "No."



"No" to her treatment.



"No" to her life.



Just "No."



How does one reconcile that?



I have no answers.



May we figure it out. And soon.



For Komal and the unknown thousands or millions like her.

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Out of Touch...

A lot has happened in the last few days: I turned ....; helped restore a ....; nearly stepped on a ...; and bought a ....!* For those that know me, the most unbelievable, however, might be that I've survived 72 hours with no internet deep in the African bush country. It's impossible to capture it all because every day holds its own adventures, moments, and heart breakers.

Today we head north to war ravaged Gulu...Gulu the epicenter of so much of the resultant suffering from the LRA (Lord's Resistance Army). Child soldiers. Displaced peoples. AIDS. Thankfully the LRA is no longer there but the damage remains. I don't know how to prepare for this, our toughest segment. I can't. I hope I'm ready. I know I won't be. Here goes...

*To fill in the blanks above check out these snipets from the last few days:
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$2 high

Down the road next to the primary (elementary) school is the Quicky Picky. That's where I got one of the best fixes one could ever ask for in this life. For about 2 bucks I bought a MACHETTE and "death in a bottle." The latter is a soft drink called Mirinda. Jeami hates it, thinks it tastes like Dimetapp. It' awesome! Snow cone syrup in a bottle. Can we say sugar high? Also, perhaps you didn't hear me earlier, but I own a MACHETE, I mean, what greater feeling is there in the world? I own a freaking MACHETE! Are you mocking me right now? If so, it's just because you don't have one. You wouldn't understand :)

Our impromptu African Dance Party was awesome! Our team tried to show the African high schoolers the finer points of the electric slide and MJ's moonwalk and they flat schooled us on rhythm...and busted out some sweet Congo moves as well :).

One thing I'm learning about the culture is that honest descriptions of people or situations are provided without offense. Example: when introducing us at the all boys school, they said its so great to have visitors with these types of protrusions (at which point he puts his fists at his chest). Did he actually SAY that? Yes, yes he did! WOW!

Know what scares me the most out here? Walking. In the dark. I mean pitch dark. Inky blackness. Heart of darkness. Dark.

Why? Because of the cobras, the mambas - all poisonous, all deadly.
The ONLY comfort I've taken is in being told that they don't travel on the dirt roads b/c their bellies don't like the feel. Ya right. They're not on the road. That's why I almost stepped on one walking home tonight. My sweet moves saved me. Then I screamed like a 4 year old girl. That saved Heather. Then Jimmy our guide stepped on its head and killed it. A cobra*.

Me: Jimmy, you said the snakes don't come on the roads. What was that all about?

Jimmy: Sometimes they need to cross the way.

Me: Great. The single antidote to my snake-o-phobia shattered. Just great.

Then we kept walking, no, more riding on a wave of adrenaline and fear deep into the night. Dunt dunt dAaaaa (scary movie sounds).

*Honesty Disclaimer: In truth it was a baby snake, BUT they tend to release the most venom, so in some respects they're even MORE DANGEROUS :). Whatever. Have you ever tangled with a cobra in the inky blackness of an African night? I didn't think so.

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29

July 11

Imagine having to get your water from a community well. Then it breaks. Now you have to walk hours to the next one or use the filthy swamp water. No biggie? Quick fix? Try 7 years. That's how long this sucker has been broken. Today we joined with the community to help fix it.

The nerd in me was psyched to see how the wells work here.


Fred, is a UNICEF trained, Ugandan engineer. He is the only one in a 50 mile radius that can do this type of work. His wage is about $30 a day.


Best image of the day is those kids dancing in the CLEAN water coming from that well!


No doubt they were the happiest as it seems to be the little ones that get stuck with the water trek.



The rest of today was pretty amazing as well. We're staying at this ranch in the bush country that is also a hospitality school (African Hospitality Institute www.ahi-ug.org). Maggie runs it. She's training villagers to work in the hospitality industry so they can get good jobs and break the cycle of poverty. Maggie is a muzungu (white person/foreigner) that has a powerful story of her own. I'm speechless. No way I can recapture it here and now without devaluing it somehow. You'll have to meet her for yourself.

Birthday festivities included a candle in a small sweet banana and drafting a list of 29 reasons I'm excited to be alive. Here are a handful:



- today's well

- aidchild's beautiful faces

- community

- dreams

- maggie's story

- that which remains...

I also got a sweet African cooking lesson.


There's too much today to process much less communicate. So that's all for now. Time to climb under the mosquitto net.

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Lost

38 kids

38 beautiful, no, radiant smiles

38 sets of the most content, happy and piercing eyes you've ever seen

38 pairs of hands that are holding, high fiving, and hugging

38 personalities: all sweet, charming, mischevious, playful

38 handprints on 3 walls




38 cases of AIDS.





Yesterday, we laughed. We played. We worked. We painted. We joked. We hugged. We held. We ached to stay longer...



Yesterday we visited Aidchild's Mpigi site. The site USAID asked Aidchild to set up as a model site for homes blending into local neighbourhoods to care for kids with AIDS.



It was incredible. These kids were so happy, so content, so loved, so cared for, so excited. It was hard to believe they were all living with AIDS, but it was no trouble at all to see that they were LIVING. Such life and happiness. The care they are receiving is so excellent, so complete. They are fed, clothed, and medicated, of course. But they are also tucked in every night. Hugged. Loved. Encouraged. These were not sad or sickly victims. These, who had endured such darkness at no fault of their own, these were dreamers.



Ronald wants to be a pilot. We're going to race our planes when he gets his license.



Matthew wants to be a doctor.



Like my friend once said, I like Dreamers.



To find out more or even help them fulfill their dreams, please visit

www.aidchild.org



I dare you not to weep.



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Me & Daniel Maiking motorboat noises :)

Finally. We are here, safe in Uganda. My white girl beacon is working as I already got mosquito bites. I took a bath in 100% Deet. That stuff is insane. Any rubber (ie, my sandals or diaper bags for the orphanages) that comes in contact with my skin melts and smears resulting in a sweet assortment of tatoos all over. Nice.

Our fisrt official stop was Saranyou (mispelled, I'm sure) Orphanage. They only have babies from 0 to 3. Mostly they are abandoned in dumpsters, on doorsteps, even in bushes. The staff was telling us that the dogs usually find them first. Then they come and care for these little ones and try for adoption. These kids reach out their hands to you (to be picked up) and go right for your heart. We fed, loved on and played with them. At the end of the day, we were looking at pix and a team member was like what was the name of the kid that peed on Brooke? Yup. Good times. You know these kids own you when you're not even that bothered by that. :) later when I had to say goodbye to this precious little boy, Daniel, I set him down by a staff member. He didn't cry. He just put his little hand on my leg, kept it there. Precious. Broke my heart to move it and leave. His name was Daniel. This is one of my fav pix of the day: Daniel is totally disinterested, but Issaiah is showing me how to make motorboat noises - can you tell we're in mid *song*?

Food has been great so far. I get my 1st shower since Monday in a few minutes and I am psyched about that. Also, unlike the last 2 nights spent on a plane, I get to sleep lying down. Here's to hoping for warm water!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Chicken Bones in London Tube! They're everywhere

For those of you that have heard me rave about the unexplicable chicken bones that seem to be everywhere in our neighbourhood and how they sometimes follow me elsewhere. I present Exhibit A from the Piccadilly Line Tube in London. As I've said before, I do not make this stuff up.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Last American Meal for awhile :)

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

2 am

This is what my night's looking like...

:)

Uganda Bound, Part III: A blog, a goofy hat, and whole lot o' luggage :)

I. Am. So. Excited.

!!!

It starts in about 24 hours. This adventure to help the helpless. I know I'll find myself in the latter category as I struggle to comprehend all that I'll see. I'll want to help every hurt. Pay every bill. Fix anything and everything. And I won't be able to do it. I will feel helpless. I hope that by knowing that in my head now, it'll keep me focused on the things I CAN change, help, and fix. I look forward to those things.

I've got three suitcases soon to be packed to the brim with all kinds of supplies and goodies to help out the kids and grown ups we're going to see. Toothbrushes. Pencils. Pens. Diapers. Clothes. Flash Cards. Coloring books. Band aids. Candy (obviously). Even a laptop and a barrel of monkeys! My stuff goes in a carry on and a backpack. So FIVE bags total. Yikes!

The beauty of all of this is that I get to take you with me. We are doing this. I'm so grateful for your love, support, and friendship. This is an exciting journey. Thanks to you. To your twitter support, lending of equipment, random goods & services donations (bug spray, laptops & accessories, tech support, airport rides, etc), financial/emotional/spiritual support, and everything else way out there and in between. Thanks for living out your compassion. Now, let's do this thing.

Here's the skinny on how to come along:

Blog: http://brooke4uganda.blogspot.com/

Email: owens.brooke@gmail.com

Twitter: @d_brooke_owens

Facebook: Dawn Brooke Owens

In an ideal world, I'll have the ability to update and check my emails daily. So please drop me a line - I'd love to hear from you. Disclaimer: If you want to talk about rockets or any other work related topic, well, in that case, I won't *see* your email until the 28th :)

Feel free to pass the info on to whomever. It's possible, no likely, that I've missed a few addresses in the shuffle.

I'll put some pictures up on the blog later tonight so you can see all the luggage, my goofy spf 40 hat, and the fallen Red Bull cans that will have gotten me from now to there.

Ready or not,

:) Brooke

PS As ever, let me know if you don't want to be on this list :)

Make a Sweet Uganda Graphic & Win a PRIZE

Anybody wanna help me make a sweet Uganda graphic for my Twitter/FB avatar? I'll bring the winner something cool from Africa.

@Luke_Ubiquitous submitted the 1st entry below. It's his response to my coworker's observation that I am worth approximately 12 goats. Lame. I think you guys can beat this!

MEDIA ALERT: “Ship Bound for Uganda Sets Sail Full of Goods to Help Orphans Living with AIDS through Aidchild"

MEDIA ALERT Written July 2nd, 2009

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ATTN: PLANNING, NEWS, FOREIGN AND CITY DESKS as well as AFRICA, NON PROFIT, EDUCATION AND SHIPPING REPORTERS

***MEDIA ALERT***
Brooke Owens
310-980-0700
owens.brooke@gmail.com

“Ship Bound for Uganda Sets Sail Full of Goods
to Help Orphans Living with AIDS through Aidchild”


WHAT: U.S. & Canadian volunteers rallied to fill a 20’ foot shipping container full of books, computers, and medical supplies for Aidchild, an NGO dedicated to providing homes, innovative medical care, psychosocial support, and education to orphans living with AIDS in Uganda. TWI Global, HK Trucking, & Sea Shipping Line have graciously agreed to sponsor the cost of warehouse storage and shipping. The Uganda bound container sets sail from Long Beach on July 3rd, 2009.

>Quotes from Aidchild Staff & Volunteers, as well as TWI Global & Sea Shipping will be available upon request on Friday, July 3rd. Contact Brooke Owens (info above).

WHO: Members of the press are invited to contact Brooke Owens for further details on the project. A press release will be issued on Friday, July 3rd, 2009.

WHEN: Friday, July 3rd, 2009

WHERE: Port of Long Beach, CA

Media is invited to learn more about the amazing care being offered by Aidchild to precious orphans living with AIDS and help us honor businesses such as TWI Global and Sea Shipping Line that have stepped up to support such acts of compassion. We encourage media to follow not just the send off but the entire journey and delivery of these items to see the full effect on orphans living with AIDS in Uganda.

For more information please visit:
http://www.aidchild.org
http://www.twiglobal.com/home.cfm
http://www.seashipping.com/
http://www.hktrucking.com/

Part II: Who's Calling the Shots Around Here Anyway?

Email Written May 21st, 2009
Image Credit: http://www.meadowlanepharmacy.com/immunization%20character.jpg
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Hi Everybody!

First off, I just want to thank you all for being so supportive of this trip to Africa. I have been overwhelmed by the beautiful and different ways you have shown your support and care. I'm very excited as we are getting SO CLOSE! I was hoping to have this fun and wacky website up by now, but I'm very sorry to report that I have just been so busy that it hasn't happened yet! So for now, you'll have to just bear with my mere words :).

So, where am I at for the trip?

Well, after a long and drawn out process, I've learned my blood type! Hooray! Apparently, sometimes living in Europe can backfire when you are trying to give blood to 1) do a good thing and 2) find out your blood type for free. Due to the fact that I lived over there for 6+ months, alas, my blood is un-donate-able. No worries. That huddle crossed thanks to a local lab and good old fashioned insurance!

Next up is immunizations (read: lots of big needles). I struck out on the first attempt to get immunized. Will try again this week. Looks like I still need yellow fever, meningitis, typhoid, and I think that's it. Thank goodness I already had all my hepatitis sets! After learning that some malaria prescriptions cause personality disorders (uh, no thank you) and others increase sensitivity to the sun (uh, ps, I'm already the whitest kid ever, who's skin tone pallet can be seen on your local stop sign, so I don't really need additional help getting the Sun's attention :), we finally settled on what seems like the best option. Check that box.

I just talked to Verizon and for super cheap I can rent a blackberry that will work in Africa, so I will be a twittering fool. Ha! You thought you'd get a break from my twitterdiction by sending me to Africa, but sorry kids. I'll be totally wired over there. This makes me happy not only b/c I can bring you all with me in a way, but also b/c it will just make me feel a little safer knowing that I've got a phone. The way the plan works, data will be basically unlimited (so free emails) but phone calls, well, let's just say, I'll only call in an emergency. :)

Looks like I DO get to hang out with the amazing folks at Aidchild towards the end of my trip for an extra 4 days or so. I'm psyched! One of my very cool friends is letting me borrow his Mini DV camera, so I should be able to get some sweet video. Another rad friend offered some video editing skills, so maybe there will be some cool stuff there. I haven't really shot a lot of video before so this will be a big experiment.

And of course the green elephant in the email. Fund raising. I'm happy to report that due to the amazing support of my friends and family (and my personal investment), I'm over half way there. As a recap, I have to raise $3600 by June 1st to cover all the costs associated with the trip. It looks like I have about only $1500 more to go. So that's the story there. I am so appreciative of those that have become financial partners, it's really blessed me. Also, I have been overwhelmed with the emotional, spiritual, and other creative means of support from you all as well. I have received some of the nicest cards and emails that have been my shot in the arm and I'm so grateful for your hearts! Details for tax-deductible donations are at the end of the email.

Of course being the new media nerd I seem to be becoming, I'll be increasing my posts on Facebook (Dawn Brooke Owens) and Twitter (d_brooke_owens) about the trip if you're interested in following along.

I'm excited that some of my other responsibilities have lightened and I now get to focus on Uganda as one of my main priorities in the coming months. This is going to be an amazing ride, I'm so glad you're sharing it with me!

Lots of love!
Brooke

dream, always dream...

Part I: The Opener

Email Written Feb 24th, 2009
Image Credit: Me & Clipart (step off :)

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Hi Friends,

I hope this finds you all doing well, pursuing exciting dreams, and embarking on new adventures!

I wanted to take a second to tell you about my next adventure: UGANDA.

Deep breath. Wow, I can't believe I'm about to do this, but this July, I'm joining an incredible team of volunteers for a two week aid trip to Uganda. After that, I might get to stay on for an additional few days to work with Aidchild (http://www.aidchild.org/) in their amazing homes for children living with AIDS (more on that later). So grab a coffee and get comfy, there's lots of cool stuff in this email. :)

First on the agenda is a visit to a few infant orphanages in the capital city of Kampala to bring basic supplies like diapers, formula, and other necessities. Then we will head North to a small town called Gulu. While there, we will visit several Internally Displaced People (IDP) Camps, provide palliative care in a nearby hospital, and work with an all girl’s school for those that were abducted by rebels (or more formally, members of the Lord's Resistance Army - LRA). One of the main focuses of this trip will be a 3 day clinic where we will provide free medical services to individuals living in the camps. We’ll also have a chance to meet the 50 children my old church (www.rock-church.com/where/uganda) in Los Angeles has sponsored, through a partnership with World Vision. At the very end, we'll get an opportunity for a day and a half to see some of the wildlife. A few other opportunities to help out are still being finalized - I look forward to updating on that soon. Still, pretty cool, so far, eh?

While it's true that I'm excited, but even more so honored to go with an incredible team and help out with medical clinics, supply deliveries, and holding hands of those in pain, it is a very serious affair. I’m not sure if you are aware of the situation in Uganda. For over 20 years the country has had a brutal civil war that has displaced hundreds of thousands; forced thousands of children into sexual slavery; and too many to fight as child soldiers in the rebel army. Many were left orphaned or dead. Most of the violence has occurred in the North, which is where we will be. Yikes! Still, this is so worthwhile. It's a privilege to have the opportunity to offer care to the Acholi people who have suffered so much. It's really beyond my comprehension what they have endured.

As you can probably imagine, plane tickets, transportation (gas is wikid expensive), and all the logistical minutia surrounding a trip like this is expensive. I'm on the hook to raise is $3,600 by June 1st. I'm also really hoping to raise a significant amount beyond the scope required to be able to add to the efforts with the schools, orphanages, and medical clinics that we will be with during this time. So if you think it's a worthy cause, it'd be so rad if you could contribute. If you just want to be informed or learn more, that's awesome as well. I'll take whatever I can for this amazing cause - donations, prayers, spreading the word, you name it. The "how to donate" details are at the end of the email. And yes, of course it's a tax write off! :)

In the coming weeks, I'll be building a website of sorts with fun, new content that will rotate out frequently. We've got some silly videos planned to keep our partners entertained through the fund-raising process. (Evil laugh, no seriously, it'll be good so stay tuned). More on the Aidchild section of my trip in the next edition as I'm able to finalize details. Come on, you knew I had to leave you wanting more on the rare chance that my promise of goofy videos wasn't enough to lure you into a second read. ;)

So while, you're on the edge of your seat waiting to see what my first ridiculous video will look like, I'd love for you to check this video out.
http://www.invisiblechildren.com/april2009/index-en.html
It's by a group called Invisible Children and it's a really relevant summary of what's been going on in Northern Uganda.

Drop me a line, I'd love to hear from you!

Thanks for listening,
Brooke

If you'd like to donate, thank you in advance. Details below:
1. Please make checks payable to Rock Covenant Church (this is tax deductible).
2. Please write my name on a post-it and attach it to the check.
3. Send Checks to: PO BOX 1347, El Segundo, CA 90245.
I need to raise all my funds by June 1st in order to pay for airline tickets and other items. Whether you feel led to contribute financially, through prayer, or both, all of your support is appreciated.

PS Let me know if you'd like me to remove your name from the list - I don't want to be that annoying email you don't want to receive :)