africa cut my heart in two. (

When will our world be one without walls or oceans or locks and keys or borders or boundries. When will it all be one. What if the oceans evaporated and the continents came together and then the walls had little stair cases over top of them which lead to right to the people you love who you once were so separated from.

What if our world was one.

What if my plate was your plate and my pockets were yours. If what I had was what you had and nothing was lacking?

I'm feeling the ocean's width real-strong-like. Not only are they living a different life, but they're living it nine hours ahead of me and my night is their day, my breakfast is their supper. This is what happens when distance takes us apart.

Holding thier breath and jumping really high so that maybe they'll be caught flying.

Here is Dinga. You've just got to meet her.

Shifts shifts shifts.

Esther and Dinga are beautiful.

Carrying firewood back from the river.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

feet on american dirt.

Here is my heart in a photo at this very moment.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Goodbyes.....leaving Chad

Subject: goodbyes....Leaving Chad

We make sure to say heartfelt goodbyes to the ones we couldn't imagine
having never said hello to.   I always tell myself that I am going to
be prepared to leave a place. I make lists of everything important to
do, every loose end to tie up, every gift to give, and every person to
connect to one last time.   But every time I find myself unprepared
for the splitting, running around trying to have that nice warm
feeling but instead, a feeling of dissatisfaction and frustration
seems to edge out my happy sentiments and I feel anxious.
I continued waving my hand out that ridiculously packed public
transport van even after I couldn't see my brothers and sisters
anymore. I felt a combination of feelings such as relief to be
leaving, guilt for abandoning, heart sore from the kind words said at
parting, uncertainty about what lay ahead, but yet, assured that life
still had that quality of surprise and forward motion which I so love
and that THIS was THAT quality not letting me down. I would be
surprised with the next bend. And the next. And the next.
But the next bend doesn't make the road easier.   I still had to hug
my African mother goodbye, kiss my little Armelle, and make promises
of soon reunion with my sister Dinga, knowing that life for those whom
I left behind was never guaranteed.
The feeling of relief came from the fact that I felt like I had made
it to a gas station after running on empty for a lengthy stretch of
highway. You always think you know how far you can go on empty, but
you never know for sure.    There were times when I felt like I wasn't
strong enough and it was relieving to be leaving with my spirit
intact.
I felt a bit like a bad person when I recognized that those who
remained at the hospital would be facing the exact moments of intense
stress, frustration, and difficulty that I was checking my heart out
of by leaving. Even now, when the clock ticks five o'clock I know the
patients are getting their bleach-water-dressing changes and at
midnight an overworked nurse gives that painful IV Penicillin. I
envision the sick getting their malaria treatments, other meds, and
hopefully settling down for the night.
I felt guilt as I walked through the hospital for the last time.   I
watched a girl crying out in pain while her burns were laying open to
the air, yet shielded from the merciless insects by a thin mosquito
net. I watched a baby's whole sack-of-bones-self, voice and physique
alike, cry out for milk. I watched my friend Caroline, a nurse from
California, plead with a family to go buy the medicine for their baby.
And even as I was walking out of the Pediatrics ward, a man came to
me and said, "My child's IV has stopped. Can you come fix it?"
Caroline came over quickly and said, "I'll take care of that, she's
not working right now."    It's true. I'd come to the end of my work
in Bere Hospital and something about it left a little guilty bite.
My heart ached at the kind words that were given to me at parting.
Jolie's embrace and four simple sobs, followed by the shaking of her
upward-facing-outstretched palms, a motion that our parting was
leaving something lacking, warmed me and ached me at the same time.
Mounden asked me, "What will I do when you leave, Emily?"   Then he
chuckled, "Who is going to give me money to buy pigeons?" Laughter.
His last words as I sat on the public transport out were, "Emily," he
focused in through the slider window frame, "it is God who is going to
guard your heart."   What he said was so true that I wanted to jump
back out of the van, take his shoulders, and tell him he knew
something really important; that those weren't just words and that
indeed God, when we want it, guards our hearts; the in and outflow of
them. Our hearts are shaped and well-learned by the hard things and
then filled and enlarged by our little and big bursts of happiness.
But our time for meaningful conversations was over for now.   I
continued waving my hand out the window long after my ability to crane
my neck in their direction had ceased.
A good friend of mine, named Kacey, sent an email to me soon after
leaving that told me, "The reason we sometimes hate to leave is that
we fear we will forget the things we have experienced." Right now it
is all something that is so real at and means so much to you but we
all know as we slip back into our lives that the details of an
experience can start whispering instead of screaming their
significance. But our hearts are forever changed.   Forever.
I've been here with Fletcher and Nolan now for 5 days and it's been a
breath of fresh air.   I've been taking hot showers, napping, eating
healthy Ethiopian food, walking the hills meeting all these amazing
people who they've gotten so close to (these boys are gems), and just
watching them do their thing.
But, despite our contentment here, Fletcher and I have been having
these conversations that go something like, "What are you going to do
first when we get home?"   We can't wait. But we will.   Only three
more days. I'm looking forward to a bunch of hello's real soon.
Seriously, thank-you for being the awesome friends and family that you
are. I am lucky and blessed.   Love Emily

Friday, February 27, 2009

this. that. here. and there.

it's the end of africa for now. we're here and there for a time
only. then we do this and that for the next bit of time. i can
honestly say this has been that thing i needed. but now i'm going
there and i'm going to be grateful for that. thank-you for
this. all of this experience. love emily

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

so it rained.

I feel like you must think that all I do is lay on mats these days
because that's all I write about. :) But yet again, last night we
were laying on mats and cots and bed springs and blankets. The sea
of people was quiet except for Jolie's melodic yet out of tune
singing, Tony and Izeedor talking mathematics by lamp-light, and then
Armelle who would cry once in a while for silly-spoiled reasons.

And then there was the wind.

The wind blew dust in my eyes and flowers in my hair. It also made
the tree above me sway like crazy and I kept thinking about how
exactly bad it would hurt to have a branch fall on you. We talked
about rain. I told them I had really wished I would have been here
for the rainy season and how fun it would be if it rained. But
Esther said, "It's not going it rain. This is just wind."

We drank tea from our cots which lay parallel and about two inches
inbetween. Jolie lay on her side and me on my stomach as we just
chatted. She's such a graceful, life-filled lady. Armelle climbed
up and found a niche against Jolie's body.

Soon we stopped talking and I turned to my back. I think it was the
way that the branches shook themselves at me, the way the stars were
fading in and out; appearing and disappearing. It must have been all
the anticipation of the dust and flowers landing in my
eyes. Whatever it was I was mealancholic and thought, "What's
next?" Most of my 'what's next' thinking is about school and life
etc. What do I do now with my life...and na na na bla bla bla. In
the time my mind was distracted, there were drops of water that
started making my eyes blink and my body flinch. The scent in the
air changed....to RAIN! When will the impossible stop
happening? When will "what's next" be "what I think?" Probably
never. It never rains until May. It's the dryest part of the year
right now.

So it rained.

It rained in the dry season and it let my mind trust more....knowing
that probability and uncertainty are uncertain themselves. What
seems to be or should be, might not be because life is miraculous and
spontaneous!

I'm ready to come home. I never feel settled leaving a place. I
always make these lists of things to do before the end and nothing
gets done on them and I feel like I'm leaving some puzzle
unfinished. But it's ok. I'm so grateful for everything that you
all have done. The letters, emails, prayers, packages, phone calls,
and just friendships in general. It is a huge gift to me to be sent
here. Thanks. Love Emily

p.s. during the night I felt somone climb on to the cot at my feet
and sneak under my blanket. I lifted my blanket and found Pabris
(4) who was cold and had burrowed a spot on my cot. During the
night he somehow made his way up from the foot of the bed to right
next to me. Then somehow Armelle rolled over onto my cot from
Jolie's and it was like a dog pile.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

oh when it all comes to the end.

I have 5 days left and it's a short enough of a time to make
me realize what a good thing I have here in Africa. It's too bad
that sometimes we have to be looking at an end to REALLY value what we have.
The last few nights we've been sleeping outside. It's
blazing during the days now. I've noticed that Samedi and Jolie
have been just resting at home in the evenings and whether they are
doing it on purpose or not, it has sure given us some priceless times
here at the end.
I come around the corner and everyone is out on the
mats. I lay down and Jolie starts rambling in dialect, sending
orders all around and despite the speed and complicated grammar she
uses, I gathered that she ordered someone to go get me tea, someone
to go bring me a pillow and another person to go lay out her blanket
for me to lay on. She's the sweetest: the kind of sweet that
leaves you feeling completely undeserving.
The kids aren't allowed on her blanket because they haven't
bathed, but the rules always fade and soon the kids are all in a line
on either side of me. I pull my own sheet over me and toss my blue
fleece over both Dinga (13) and myself. Armelle (3) is to my right
and completely naked. I try to throw the other edge of the blanket
over her but she throws it off because she is hot. Jabbering and
singing, some crying and fighting, and soon everyone is asleep. I
wake up a couple of times. Once to a dog licking my face, another
time to Esther coming home from a party, and then the third time
makes me laugh even now.
It must have been two in the morning or so, but I woke up to
someone pulling off my covers. I didn't move but just opened my
eyes. I watched as Tony (12) pulled my sheet off of me, leaving
Dinga and I to share my little blue fleece. He snuck back over and
layed down, wrapping MY covers all around him. I laughed inside so
hard. I decided that if he was willing to steal my covers, that he
must be miserably cold. So I just fell back asleep.
The next morning the hazy light woke us up and everyone
started guessing what time it was. Four-thirty, Five,
Six. Everyone was cold by this time and those who weren't already
in our little line up, squeezed in so we were like ten bundles all in
a row. I asked Tony, with my eyes narrowed, if he was nice and
warm. A huge smile broke out over his face as I told everyone about
his theiving. Caught! Mounden said, "Let's go running! It's nice
and cold!" I said, "Yeah! Let's run!" I stood up and then
realized the depth of my fatigue. I fell back down onto Jolie's rock
hard pillow and said, "Let's NOT run!" Mounden moaned and
protested. :) We laid their a long while longer until Esther
started sweeping the yard, like she does every morning, and sending
dust all over us. And so the day began.
The next night we also slept under the stars. Esther was
laying on this old set of bed springs that sits in our yard. It's
just the bed frame and often there are a billion ripped up old
shirts, pants, fabrics etc that act as padding. I told her to make
room for me and she moved over rest on half of the bed. Then she
asked me if I was going to sleep outside. I said, "Yeah, right here
with you." We climbed in and talked until late. It reminded me of
sleeping with my cousins when I was little because Esther just was
sprawled out all night. One time I woke up with her head on my
shoulder and her arm linked through mine, and yet another time with
her legs thrown across mine. And she was breathing right into my
eyes. I tried to turn over but there was no room left before I fell
off and no wall to hug.
Last night Ansley came to sleep outside with me. At about
9:30, Samedi (my father here) came home for a short visit from his
night shift (we live really close to the hospital). She came around
the corner and said, "Ooo la la! All of these people are for
Samedi?" as he gazed at the sea of bodies all over the numerous,
huge mats. We all chanted, "Qui! Qui!" Tony and Mounden were
talkers and we talked about all sorts of thing ranging from Mounden's
future career, to Tony's lack of money, to the people whose
characters they admired the most.
The kids kept waking Ansley up because she falls asleep so
fast! And it's true, she does. They said, "Our Professor (Ansley
teaches English to them sometimes at school) is asleep
already!" There have been many nights I have slept in her hut and I
juuuuuuuuuust begin to ask her all the world's most important
questions when all of a sudden she's gone. Uhg. She sometimes
apologizes before she conks out but it still doesn't change the fact. :)
Dinga moved home to the house of her real mother but she
just can't seem to stay away from our house. She comes late every
night, probably after everyone has fallen asleep at her own house,
and comes to join us for the night. She wove her little body in
between Pabris and me and Tony came in at a right angle to share my
pillow. I woke up and his side of the pillow was soaked. I am not
sure what happened.....:) He had found a way to somehow get my
covers again too. So I had a little edge while he ended up with the
big square nicely fit to his warmth. :)
I love this way of sleeping. Honestly, I hate sleeping by
myself. I can feel Dinga who is sick to one side of me and
Armelle's deep breathing on my ear and Tony's head fighting me for
space on the pillow. I feel like the night is another day. You
often wake up so many times that it feels like you are getting to
know people better just through your funny interactions during the
night. It's hard for me to explain in an emails. Anyway, I'm sad
I have only three more nights.
Here's the schedule:

Wednesday: go to the fields and take a family portrait.
Thursday: goodbye party with slide show of the family.
Friday: leave in the morning to head to
N'jamena with sisters, Esther and Sabine
and stay with Samedi's oldest daughter.
Saturday: rest!
Sunday: go to the big market and then head
to the airport to get on my plane.
meet Fletcher in Ethiopia! Yay!
Monday: travel to Gimbi Hospital!
Tuesday-10th see what Fletcher's deal is all about.
The 10th: meet Alex B. Vercio in the Addis
Airport! it's been so long! There are
these little beautiful insects with wings
are flying all around in my stomach. :)
Then, Wednesday Evening, i am flying into Spokane Airport
and will be looking for the red lights which pinpoint tower
mountain. This adventure is coming to a close and I'm sure that
even when I am not sure how I feel about it all....the ends and
beginnings....the plan is in place already. Oh it's a good feeling.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

edgy.

Dear friends,

It seems there is always this pushing point. I hate getting
caught. I hate getting in trouble. It's not like I melt under
reprimand or can't take consequences, I just don't like getting
caught. No one does though.
Last night left Carol, Ansley and me sitting in our middle room at
about nine o'clock with preparations already made. Ansley, of
course, had a backpacking pack, a head lamp, blanket, mattress,
Nalgene, toothbrush, toothpaste, candle with matches, and a snack (ok
so the last one isn't true, but she was really prepared and that's my
point.) Then, there was Caroline and I who had packed a bit lighter:
the scrubs we were wearing and gum (Carol said it was to ease our
consciences since we weren't brushing our teeth that night). I also
insisted that we take a blanket and sheet because I remembered the
night of using only my Santa suit as a blanket: bad news. We seem
to have this super similar outlook on preparation:

If you are ok with not having it, then you don't have to bring it.

So if we don't bring a flashlight with us, we have to be ok trekking
in the dark. If we don't bring a water bottle, we have to be able to
last till morning without drinking. If we don't bring a mattress,
then we better be able to tough it out without complaining.
We let Dr. Wilson (awesome visiting Dr. from California) in on our
plan. We explained to him that we wanted to sleep up on top of the
water tower. It is this big huge box set 40 feet high on
stilts. The generator is turned on probably once a day and water is
pumped from the cleanliness of the earth's core and then later able
to run out of our faucets at the hospital. It's awesome up
there. It's flat with no railings. We were worrying a bit about
falling off of it's not-so-large surface area and Dr. Wilson
volunteered to carry bricks up and place them all around the border
for us. He would have too. :) We told him we'd be find. I
suggested we tie our wrists together so at least would be like a
chain. No one thought that was that great of an idea.
So off we went.
But then we hit that pushing point. It's usually at the doorway of
the room to break into, the base of the ladder to climb, the edge of
the boundary to cross). This is the point where I say, "Guys, what
if......." and then I pose the worry about someone seeing us, getting
us in trouble, or us GETTING CAUGHT. Thankfully, it seems I always
have a friend who pushes me past that point. Once I'm past that
point, I'm all in. But if it weren't for edgy friends, there would
be alot fewer awesome experiences under my belt.
I remember on the road trip this last summer with Tara Becker, we
drove to the boiling mud pots in Yellowstone. These brown holes
just bubble! They steam too and we wanted so bad to touch them,
just to KNOW how hot they really were. BUT....there was this sign
that said, "Keep Off." Then there was a RAILING. Tara was like,
"Emily, let's just hop the fence, run down there, stick our finger in
the mud, and then run out." I am not sure why it was so worrisome,
but I just kept thinking, "We're gonna get caught! I know it!" But
Tara pushed me past that point and we ran down past the warning sign,
touched the boiling pots and found out that they were almost
cold! I would have always thought they were hot! We start walking over the hospital and it's nine at night. We go
through the metal gate and start walking across the campus. I see
people milling around and definitely not asleep yet. I say, "What
if someone sees us while climbing and thinks we are thieves?"
"Are you having second thoughts, Emily?" No. It's never second
thoughts. It's just that I have to say the worries, have someone
tell me I am being silly, and then I suck up my fears and go.
We found the super tall solid metal ladder. It took three of us to
get it standing on end and even then it was waving all over in the
air. The top would start swaying towards the metal roof of one
building and we would correct it by pushing it the other way, which
caused overcompensation, and then we'd almost hit another roof. Oh
man it was so crazy. Really heavy. Finally we got it in place and
started up. We took off our shoes at the first level and then
climbed up to the second. The big water drum is capped by this
semi-thin sheet of metal and that's what we were going to sleep
on. There was this big drum sound every time we'd shift weight and
it was impossible to be sneaky, especially after Ansley lit her
candle up there. :) But after getting settled, we were staring up
at stars. Just stars! We were so high, that's all you could
see. There were like 10 stars that shot across the sky. We had
awesome conversation.
My dad always says that there is something about both campfires and
hot tubs that makes them such good places for conversation. It's
like there is a reason for you to just sit still and good
conversation is the awesome side effect Silences are not awkward
because when conversation runs out, there is always that other reason
to stay: the heat of the fire, the comfort of the hot water.
I think I am going to add stars to his theory. Looking at stars
produces some pretty awesome conversation.
So then finally we went to sleep.
I'm having a hard time sleeping lately. My mind just won't turn
off. Jolie (my mother here) says that if you think too much you
will get skinny and sickly. Anytime she catches me daydreaming, she
reminds me I'll get sickly if I keep that up. :)
But despite the lack of sleep I've had these last few nights, I'm
thankful for the thinking time.
At 3 am Caroline told me she was freezing and wasn't going to make it
till morning. She headed down and walked home. Crazy girl. Then
at 4 am Ansley told me she was cold and wasn't going to make it till
morning. I begged her not to leave right then. Wait till it's a
bit lighter, then we'll go. So she toughed it out like the champ she is.

I have learned that good sleep is not usually part of a good adventure.

Love Emily

Sunday, February 15, 2009

pots.

Friday nights, for worship, we have been listening to the Pineapple
Story. It's a funny man speaking about his mission experience in New
Guinea. He has a problem because people keep stealing all the
pineapples out of his garden...the garden that he is starting to help
the people. It is so upsetting to him and he tries all sorts of
things to keep them from stealing. Anyway, finally, he decided that
he didn't care anymore. He told God, "You know what, I am trying to
do this for you anyway, these are your pineapples Lord. If you don't
want them stolen then do something." And so it went. The man just
started spreading the word that he had given his pineapple field to
God. Soon after, everyone stopped stealing pineapples because they
couldn't justify stealing from God!
I love this idea. Just give everything to God and leave the
success to him. If you give everything to him then he can take care
of it or "give it" away as he feels. We worry less about things and
become more generous.
I've been painting the inside murals of the church for four days now
and things are starting to shapen up. We've got big winding trees
and rivers and bubbles and huge colorful sunshines. The other
workers (TB patients) have learned alot about painting. There is
ALOT of paint all over the floor, and they start with new shades of
blue mid-wall sometimes, but we're taking the mishaps and mess-ups in
stride. When it is finished, we will call it abstract, deep, and
meaningful so that anyone who questions our techniques will simply
have to realize that they just don't have artful eye that these
Chadian painters did.
Everyday there are funny requests for just a little bit of
paint. The first day it was Jon Jac (the night watchmen) who wanted
a little paint in a cup to paint the bed in his watchtower. Then
there was Degal (the gangly other night watchman) who wanted me to
paint his family name plate (rusted rectangle metal sheet nailed to
his mud-hut wall) and then write his name (all three of them) along
with his title at the hospital (I painted it bright orange...I'm not
sure it's what he had in mind). Oh dear. Then the women come
everyday with their metal pots. The original factory paint coat has
chipped away in some places and there are these spaces of silver
showing through. It doesn't look bad. If fact, I've seen my mom
come home with things that looked very similar from the antique
stores. But in their head they have this idea that it is better to
have paint on the pot. So they come and dip their fingers in my
paint cans and smear red, green, and yellow into the chips. Now the
pots look real....different. I can't help but laugh and I am more
than happy for them to take some of the paint for their pots. It's
such a little thing that is seemingly making them very happy. I
did think for a second, "Oh man, Emily, if you start giving out a
little paint, EVERYONE will want paint." But then I thought about
the pineapple story, about the story of the 5 loaves and 2 fish. My
paint is nowhere CLOSE to running out. So now the paint is God's
paint. If he wants it splotched on pots around Bere, Chad, I'm all for it.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

cleaning is very messy.

I feel like TB had to have gotten in my body somehow. Four of the
TB patients and I moved all of the beds out of the ward. Then we
scrubbed all of the walls with brooms and soap. One of the guys was
throwing soapy water up on the walls, three of us scrubbed with
brooms, and another rinsed with a hose. The water ran brown off the
walls and soon we were standing in these lakes. We started using the
already dirty water to loosen who knows what off of the walls. They
let me have the job of throwing water for a while, but I was so bad
at it and I kept soaking everyone. It's so hard to hold onto a
soapy bowl when you are flinging it in an upward motion to soak the
walls. One time especially, I just totally missed and water went all
over the guys. Good thing they know how to laugh. They took it
away from me at the point.
After everything was scrubbed (even the high ceiling), we shoveled
the water out of the sanctuary. It felt like shoveling snow off of
sidewalks. We were filthy by this point. Just soaked in the mess
of the trashed TB ward.
Part way through I ran over and filled two jars will water and then
put some drink mixes in them. Jacob (an SM from Southern) left a
bunch of these "Greens to Go" drink mixes. They have all these
green pieces of....maybe lettuce....I don't know....and look really
questionable. But they have tons of vitamins and so with this
argument, I got all of the workers to drink the stuff.
We finished and it was beautiful. "Proper" as they liked to call
it. The men asked if they could pour my precious bleach down the rat
holes. They hate the rats. I've never seen so much disgust and
expression coming from their faces as when they were explaining to me
how the rats come in the middle of the night and run around their
beds and across their chests. Sarah suggested we buy a cat to live
in the sanctuary. Anyway, it was absolutely clean and while I
wouldn't have licked the floor, I probably would have slept on
it...which is saying alot.
They men worked so hard. They didn't stop once. If it so happened
that one of their jobs came to a close, they would come take my work
from me before they themselves would stop working.
In the morning, I had asked Augustan to help me hire some of the
patients. He came and we hired the people not giving them a
wage...just saying we would give them a little something if they
helped. So now it was time to pay. I went back to Augustan and
told him that they worked really hard, that I wanted to pay them
well. How much? He said...."Two dollars...they will be blown
away." Two dollars.... that's double a days wage. So I went back
and gave them all the 1000 francs. They accepted their money with
two hands. I love the gesture. Afterwards, they said, "Emily, can
we have the extra soapy water to wash our clothes?" Yes. Yes, you
most definately can. So all the wives came with their buckets and
filled their buckets with soapy water. They'll be all proper for
tomorrow. Tomorrow we start the painting. I still haven't taken a
shower. I need to. I feel like TB germs are all over in my ears and
nose and eyes and mouth. I feel like these little air-borne bugs
are hovering around me! I'm having so much fun. Today I felt so
energized. It was the hype of working with others who were also
working hard. I loved it.

Monday, February 9, 2009

little stuff.

I detached Armelle from my back and after the 10k round trip trek to
the river, we had created a damp layer between our two bodies. Three
year olds are not meant to be carried like that and I was
exhausted. But after Jolie got over her shock that we had actually
gone to the river and back like that, she brought me her nice soft
horse blanket from her own bed. She laid out the big mat and spread
the blanket down. Then she told me to lay down. She rushed around
getting me tea and shooing the rambuncious kids away. I laid down
and Armelle came and laid down next to me. Jolie came and we all
sipped tea. Armelle was extra affectionate and curled up against
me. She told Jolie in her sweet little dilect, "Emily is my
friend." Then a bit later she said, "Emily is my sister." Oh the heart.
We have a game that we always play. It's called, "bung pna," which
means "give one." I always have my hair in braids and she does
too. She'll say, "give me one of your braids," and I'll ask for one
of hers and give it a little tug. Sometimes, when she's feeling
extra funny, she'll ask for all of my braids. :) Oh it's the
little things that make us happy. That's something that has come
to the front of my mind here. It's the little things.

Friday, February 6, 2009

tandem biking.

Three weeks left. It's not everyday that you are in Africa. Yes,
right now it seems like it is since I have been here for 5
months. But despite that feeling, the truth is, that this day, in
Africa, is a very exceptional day compared to the rest of my
life. So, I've been trying to make as many memories, experience as
many things, and learn as many lessons as I can in this last
stretch. I know my friends always roll their eyes when I use this
wonderful motto but.....

If you are given a moment and you could either let it pass you by or
make a memory, ALWAYS make a memory! Or M.A.M., as Tara Becker so
wonderfully abbreviated it.

So the other night I took my camera (I know my mom would have a fit
if she knew how few pictures I have actually taken) and went out on a
long walk in search of things to photograph. As I walked out of
town and towards the river, a wrinkly, elderly man on one of those
rickety bikes that I have talked about, came riding up beside
me. "Lapia, Lapia, Lapia!!! LAPIA BUJA!!! " Alrighty little guy
calm down. He was so cute though and he stopped his bike to
talk. After finding out that we were going in the same direction,
he told me that I could ride on the back of his bike. Wow! Like
hitch-hiking! I would never in my life pass up a chance like that

So, I sat on the little metal platform behind the bike seat and hung
my legs down incase the take off wasn't as smooth as we wished. He
tried to get going, but honestly i was definitely bigger than
him. His little frail leg muscles just couldn't push us through the
sandy path on this dying bicycle. So we decided that I would give it
a go and he would ride on the back.

So off we went. Lisa (my cousin) and I have lots of practice riding
double on bikes. One of us will usually sit on the handle bars and
the other peddles down College Ave. (Spring Quarter here we come Lisa!)

It got tipsy in a few places and there were times I even thought we
were for sure going to take a tumble. However, we pulled it off. I
even managed to take a snapshot of the two of us WHILE driving the bike.

We rode a few miles. This was no short jaunt. A could times I
would ask him, "Should we turn her? Should we stop her?" He would
always hurriedly shriek his answers, "No! not yet! I'll tell you,
I'll give you warning before the road comes!" I think he was worried
that if we stopped that we wouldn't get going again. Soon we got to
the next village and the little man introduced me to his family and
one of his wives.

But soon they started making plans to feed me and I knew that it was
getting dark. I still had to run back 3 miles mind you. So I got
back on the road and the sun had already set. It got darker and
darker and I started passing some interesting types of people on the
road. I started jogging. Soon, a young boy came up beside me on his
bike and started talking to me with all of the English he knew. He
accompanied me all the way home in the dark. Not that I'm afraid of
the dark or anything. :)

Count-down.

-Go to the river and collect firewood and carry it back like those
ladies who were doing their thing.
-Sell random goods at the market with Ansley.
-Go to the Arab Village.
-Trap mice out in the fields and fry them to eat.
-Organize a 5k in Bere.
-Sleep a full night outside. (Not a half a night and then have to go
in because you are so cold.)
-Gather junk fabric from off of the streets for sewing when I come home.
-Paint the murals in the church.
-Put together a slide show for my family.
-Cook a meal for my family.
-Be the one to kill the chicken. (I don't know that I have the heart to do it.)
-Family Portrait

Thursday, April 20, 2023

Tuesday, April 11, 2023

Tuesday, July 5, 2022

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Friday, June 26, 2020

Monday, November 13, 2017

Saturday, September 5, 2015

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Friday, March 27, 2015

Friday, March 13, 2009

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Friday, March 6, 2009

Friday, February 27, 2009

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Monday, February 9, 2009

Friday, February 6, 2009

good company.

Cousins!

Brothers

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