Finding Myself - Far Away

Here I sit, legs stretched out before me, cooled by the breeze blowing in from the open window writing a post to my blog on my faithful Surface. I am grateful for the WiFi that is supposedly included in our room charge; but that is mostly elusive.

I have to pinch myself. I am in the land of the red dusty roads, lavender blooming jacaranda trees and smiling, welcoming faces. In amongst the visiting, volunteering and exploring there has been time for reflection - something that was not in such abundance last year when I was here. And there is much to reflect upon. It makes me wonder if we must travel far to learn what is indeed inside us; to learn where we need most to go. Must we travel far to see ourselves as minuscule pieces of a whole?

When I travel here under the guise of volunteering, I am fully aware that this is really my post secondary education. I am learning much about this special place and the people who call it home, and I am learning so very much about myself and my place in it.

The people we eat our meals with at this bed and breakfast offer intelligent, stimulating conversation and we have covered the gamut of topics: ISIS, violence, war, social structures, religion and the role of the church, human rights and of course, sex.   New people come and go every day, people of different nationalities (Dutch, Belgium, German, Swedish, Italian, to name a few) and perspectives.

And today we are more than half way through our visit to Moshi. There are only a few days to finish up our projects with our respective groups and attempt to settle issues that can enable us to continue in a productive fashion when we return home.

I have many unresolved issues and unanswered questions... such as where do we international volunteers fit into the grand scheme of things; are we contributing to creating a culture of dependency and/or robbing Tanzanians of self direction; and how can we make sustainable differences and contributions to this spectacular country?

I don't mean to ramble. I guess I am realizing that we really aren't that special. But we are fortunate.

Boomerang

I always felt that I would return to Moshi but I didn't expect it to be so soon.

Yup - we're heading back to Tanzania. In just a few days Jill and I will once again be shrouded in the hot humid air of Moshi with the taste of burnt dust on our lips. And our hearts will open wide. Tanzania is like that; it opens its arms and cradles you; invites and welcomes you; changes you.

I struggled with my motive to return. I wasn't so naive to think that I was really needed, that life in Moshi wouldn't go on without me. I considered how better spent my airfare could be - the impact of $1200 on the tiny informal organization of Good Hope; the good it could do. I even thought how exciting it would be to use that money to bring someone from Good Hope here to Canada.

Jill announced she was going back to reconnect with her mamas at the women's empowerment group of Mkombozi. She didn't want too much time to pass without contact. We talked it over; debated the reasons to go, and not go. And in the end we couldn't resist.

 Good Hope doesn't need me. But I need Good Hope. I'm going back for a heart-full.

Contrasts

It's a textured weave, this life we live.
A juxtaposition of
good and bad,
happy and sad
served up daily
tasty and distasteful
celebration and grief
shock and surprise.

A graduation was celebrated
new beginnings
start of a grown-up life
whilst
across the world
a boy sixteen
lost his fight
a life was mourned.

There's no sense to make
it simply is
elation and devastation
unlikely cohabitants
ironic
we are left to
seek the gifts in
life.

Remembering Rwanda

http://www.kwibuka.rw/

Today, April 7, is a day of remembrance in Rwanda of the genocide that ravaged that country twenty years ago. 800.000 souls were slaughtered, including 300,000 innocent children.

It is an ugly, evil chapter in the history of humanity, and a topic that most want to avoid discussing. We want to bury the hideous - the evidence of barbarianism of that which humans are capable - and the shame. We want to silence and we want to forget.

However, we must remember, and we must be courageous in our efforts to protect and defend; to speak out and rage against senseless, systematic murders. It continues.

LGen Romeo Dallaire, now a Canadian Senator, was Force Commander for the United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda (UNAMIR) during the Rwandan genocide. These are his words:

“Rwanda will never ever leave me. It’s in the pores of my body. My soul is in those hills, my spirit is with the spirits of all those people who were slaughtered and killed. 

Still, at its heart, the Rwandan story is the story of the failure of humanity to heed a call for help from an endangered people. The international community, of which the UN is only a symbol, failed to move beyond self-interest for the sake of Rwanda. While most nations agreed that something should be done, they all had an excuse why they should not be the ones to do it. As a result, the UN was denied the political will and material means to prevent tragedy.  

No matter how idealistic the aim sounds, this new century must become the Century of Humanity, when we as human beings rise above race, creed, colour, religion, and national self-interest and put the good of humanity above the good of our own tribe. For the sake of the children and our future."   

- LGen Romeo Dallaire

Priceless

Kidlet had mentioned that she had something special for my birthday but that it had arrived yet. I reminded her that I had asked them not to buy me anything and she smiled slyly and said, "don't worry, it didn't cost anything".

Today she came over - sparkly gift bag and her eldest sister in tow. We all chatted over lunch and just about when I thought my curiosity was going to get the best of me, she handed me the bag.

I read the scrolls of paper in disbelief... it's no secret to the people around me that two of my greatest heroes and favourite Canadians are Stephen Lewis and Romeo Dallaire. I love them, and everything they stand and fight for. Stephen Lewis rages and wages war against the HIV/AIDS pandemic and serves as the world's collective conscience. Romeo Dallaire served as sentry during the Rwandan genocide, he broke rank to bear witness to the atrocities he was powerless to disarm, and also serves as our conscience. He pours his outrage, guilt and pain into service.
Lewis and Dallaire give voice to the disenfranchised and have dedicated their lives to create change for a better world.

Kidlet wrote to them, explaining how much they mean to me, and asked if they would write me a small note for my birthday.

I know it would be the best gift I could give her - words from her hero. She has inspired me my entire life and I would like to give her something inspirational back. I know you are a very busy man and receive many requests, but if you could fulfill this one, I would be eternally grateful.

They came through; and Kidlet came through - big time. Romeo Dallaire personalized a typed note:

The greatest compliment I can receive is to know I have inspired others to become passionate towards global issues. Keep believing in your ability to impact human rights issues half a world away.

I was overwhelmed. And then it got even better when I spotted the envelope with the Stephen Lewis Foundation stamp on it. Inside - a handwritten note containing the superlative language of the master communicator himself - Stephen Lewis.

Priceless. That is what this gift was. I was moved to tears and in so many ways. I told Kidlet that what we really want in this lifetime is proof that our loved ones really know us. A gift that shows you have been understood and heard is simply the best. And priceless. So thank  you Kidlet for your inspiring, one of kind, once in a lifetime gift, and for showing me your good heart. I love you. And you too - are priceless. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Investments

There they stood posing, faces gleaming, proud and tall, in front of the few possessions they have and need for secondary school: a bucket, a foam bedroll, a small suitcase, and backpack. The directors of Good Hope had posted pictures on Facebook of the handful of students that were headed off to Pasua Secondary Boarding School in Moshi; a handful of students with dreams and determination and fortunate enough to have sponsors who want them to succeed. 

I studied each picture and face carefully, looking for clues and proof of their excitement. These children are not strangers to me. I learned their names, shook their hands, hugged them, and heard their hopes for their future. I couldn't help but invest. And that is exactly what I believe sponsoring an education is - an investment. There is no better gift than an opportunity to pursue one's dreams, and for these kids living in a disadvantaged neighbourhood in challenging home environments, it is a lifeline.

I couldn't help but remember how our car bulged with furniture, clothes and boxes when we dropped our kids off at university, and the number of trips to unload it. Quite the polar opposite for the Good Hope kids who travel light with their few belongings tucked into a tidy metal box, and the new bedroll and bucket that came with the sponsorship. Life is both simple and complicated in the Majengo neighbourhood in Moshi. The school and home environments are what we would call "minimalist" while the health and socioeconomic challenges are cluttered and complex. 

Our money has a lot of clout in developing nations and has much more impact than here at home. The amount we pay for a pack of chewing gum can purchase 5 notebooks, and provide exponentially more bang for our buck. 

I found a generous sponsor for my serious young friend David and when I assured him that his sponsor, as a successful entrepreneur, only makes solid investments, he turned to me and said, "And he is investing in me, right?" 

I see it as investing in humankind, world peace, and in self. And for that opportunity, I am truly grateful.

Good luck Abdi, David, Viviany, Calvin, Issa, Ibrahim, Christian, and Veronica. 

David looking so serious on send off day

Seasonal Cold and Bright Spots

Kicking off the new year with a cold that erupted spontaneously and has me sneezing with such power and vigor that I'm sure they are registering on the Richter scale. Perfect opportunity to stay couchside and catch up on reading - books and blogs - and testing the strength of my high-end lotion filled-tissue.

It snowed most of the day and the temps were minus 30; if I had known I was going to end up sick I would have forfeited the shower and stayed in my pj's all day. I love those rare occasions of guilt free relaxation, when you can do whatever - or nothing - your little heart desires, and the kettles boils up copious cups of tea.

The empty crates stand stacked in the living room in the off chance I get the urge to deconstruct Christmas. No such urge transpired. However our beefy balsam fir is showing signs of dehydration so it's got to happen soon.

Through my watery eyes and cold misery I can still see bright spots to look forward to. I had a SKYPE call with Oliver, one of the directors of Good Hope the other night and from the first moment I heard her sing song voice saying my name, my heart felt lighter. The Internet connection wasn't the best however we managed to have a brief conversation and I was able to ask about the kids. This ongoing relationship with my Tanzanian friends is something I am going to enjoy this coming year.

And the journey to find a new home with acreage will continue, but we are in no rush. We'll enjoy the process of fixing up our house (replacing the 22 year old carpeting) so we are ready when our new home finds us (it'll have to be close enough to my family and work). One of my three amiga friends is turning 50 this year so a celebratory girls' trip will be in order. Hurry up and decide Adventure Girl.

So much to look forward to, lots to anticipate -- like this next sneeze. Fritz - pass the Kleenex!

Unpacking

It's December 1st. I've been home from Tanzania for a week now and I haven't posted a word about the trip. I could say it's because I was immediately plunged into catch up at work as I wrestled with my jet lag - and it wouldn't be a lie - but the truth is, I am still processing the experience. Memories are replaying in my head; my dreams take me back to the shining faces I spent my time with; and I am trying to convince myself the whole adventure wasn't a dream.

The trip exceeded my expectations in every way. It was emotional overload and stimulating on so many levels that I am still sifting through all that I saw and felt, to figure out where to start, how to help, and how to integrate this experience into my life.

And if that wasn't enough, I landed home smack dab in the middle of Christmas. This isn't a problem -- it's my most favourite time of the year. But it does highlight the contrasts and inequities between worlds. It's not fair; it's not just; it just is. Some of us are born into relatively easy lives while others are born into hardship and strife.

One of the cultural activities at my volunteer experience was a stop off at the Msamaria Center for Street Children. We came bearing sacks of rice, maize and beans and fresh vegetables for the children. As we sat on the benches learning more about the predicament of the many young souls that have been rescued, I couldn't help but notice my little friend Adam's shoes. I told him that we had the same shoes and he proudly responded, "TOMS!" Never mind that his shoe was far too large for him or that his toe poked through the end -- he was delighted that we were both wearing Toms.

And that is it - so far - in a nutshell. My head and heart are full to overflowing, and over the next while, as I unpack my experience, I will share with you - at the risk of snagging your heart as Africa has mine.

Progress

Photo courtesy of Good Hope Facebook page

Months after signing on for a volunteer trip with Cross Cultural Solutions to Tanzania, and just a few days until I depart, I finally received my assignment. I'll be spending my days at the Good Hope Support Organization. They provide education, skills, knowledge, support, comfort, safety and love to children infected or affected with HIV/AIDS, orphans, people suffering from illness and the disadvantaged in order to help them create an empowering life of hope. I could be doing any one or more of the following duties:

• Support the group in their pursuit for healthy and sustainable livelihoods
• Engage in discussion and exchange ideas on issues such as family health, women’s rights, access to resources, income generation, etc.
• Collaborate and support the center on-going projects
• Teach conversational English and pronunciation
• Be a positive role model
• Advise their group by making/designing brochures, website, and business cards
• Share fundraising skills and participate in fundraising
• Teach kids (secondary school)
• Participate in outreach activities (Home visits to the sick)
• Participate in counseling

This is the work assignment I had hoped for. I have so much I want to know and learn, and so many people I want to meet. I loved these words on their website:

The lives of Good Hope co-founders mirror those they service. Therefore, they are able to walk within the community with empathy, outstretched arms and open hearts ready to embrace, lift up and support those who may need comfort, care and/or medical support.

My heart is already full to overflowing and this clinched it.

Give a Little Hope to Women

Photo courtesy of One by One

I can remember the first time I heard the word "fistula". It was a funny sounding word for a horrific condition - a hole between the birth passage and an internal organ such as the bladder or rectum. A woman cannot hold her urine, and sometimes bowel content as well.

I was shocked when I learned just how many women suffer the pain and resulting shame and isolation from fistulas caused from prolonged obstructed labour, or giving birth when they are just young girls or - the ultimate act of violence - from being raped and/or mutilated. Mostly it happens because most mothers in poor countries give birth without any medical help.

All of the scenarios are ugly, and preventable. But there is work to do to to create change. In the meantime there are girls and women who need treatment, care and support to repair the physical and emotional wounds of fistula.

This week I donated a little to the Fistula Foundation to support their efforts to raise awareness of and fund fistula repair, prevention, and educational programs worldwide to help eradicate fistula. Women deserve proper maternal care, the quality of which should not depend on where you happen to be living.

Read about my weekly  Give a Little challenge and other posts. I have to give ongoing props to Wendy Smith for her inspiring book, Give a Little. Consider giving it a read.

Give a Little to End the Use of Child Soldiers

Photo courtesy of http://www.childsoldiers.org/

Romeo Dallaire is one of the most courageous humanitarians of his time, and a personal hero of mine. Aside from the fact that this awesome, inspiring man is a Canadian, he is perhaps best known for being the Force Commander for UNAMIR, where he bore witness to the Rwandan genocide. Now as a retired lieutenant-general and Canadian Senator he is an outspoken advocate for human rights, mental health and war-affected children.

Wanting to transform his hellish experiences into a constructive contribution, he founded the Roméo Dallaire Child Soldiers Initiative, and made it his life's mission to end the use of child soldiers worldwide. He documented his experiences and proposed solutions in two best-selling books: Shake Hands with the Devil and They Fight like Soldiers, Die like Children: The Global Quest to Eradicate the Use of Child Soldiers.

Just imagine more than 250,000 children (estimated 30-40% girls) recruited - often forced - to be soldiers. Many are stolen from their families, maimed, raped, drugged, used as sex slaves or otherwise abused and as child soldiers, are often forced to commit atrocities against friends, families and neighbours. Dallaire says children are used because they are considered expendable, plentiful, cheap to maintain and easily indoctrinated by the adults who recruit them. They are used as a strategic military tool—a weapons system—to advance the interests of persistent human rights violators.

For my weekly Give a Little challenge I donated to the Child Soldiers Initiative which is committed to ending the use and recruitment of child soldiers worldwide, with a focus on prevention, through ground-breaking research, advocacy, and security-sector training.

Because to tell you the truth, if Dallaire can be selfless and brave enough to take on the fight of a lifetime, the least I can do is give a little to support the cause.

His book has been made into a documentary. Watch the trailer.

Read about my weekly Give a Little challenge and other posts. I have to give ongoing props to Wendy Smith for her inspiring book, Give a Little. Consider giving it a read.

Full Steam Ahead

Well things are in full motion and the flurry of emails have begun -- how to prepare and articles to read about Tanzania; suggested Swahili language CDs and books; vaccination requirements; visas and entry paperwork; and the list goes on... Tanzania is taking shape before my very eyes and I can feel that tingling in the pit of my stomach that I get when I anticipate something good is about to happen.

When my friend asked me about Africa and told me she would like to voluntour with me, I was afraid to get my hopes up. I waited for several days for her email with subject line: Trip. Then it arrived with the simple message: "How do we book this thing?"

We finally had a chance to touch base today after having booked the trip last week. We were giddy and full of questions, ideas, and speculations - all expressed in rapid succession, in overlapping sentences. It'll be our first trip together since we were 14 and 16 years old and we both agree that it is OVERDUE!

We have no illusions; although it's called a volunteer trip, the purpose is really a cultural exchange to ultimately build bridges. We will leave with more than we give and if we are lucky, we will leave a little of us behind and take a piece of Tanzania home with us. It has me reflecting alot on our attitudes and intentions toward developing nations. I realize that often our good intentions have far reaching, negative consequences and I have to take more time to research my participation in philanthropic efforts to ensure that they align with sustainability and do no harm.  

 In the meantime we will have months of planning and anticipation to look forward to, and look forward we will!

Time to resuscitate my Africa Calling blog and add a second act. 

Adventure Calling

On a day basked in red, pink, chocolate and hearts, the spark of a lifetime dream was ignited. My life-long friend and I booked a volunteer trip to Kilimanjaro, Tanzania. After months of wanting, wishing, and wondering, I converted "if" to "when". 

And as with all things that are important to me, the anticipation is as exciting as the adventure. One thing I have learned is that although the trip is cloaked in volunteerism, we will leave a part of ourselves in Africa and come home with more than we went with. We will learn, experience, share, care, cry, laugh, and wonder. And just like my trip to Kenya with Kidlet, I will make this memory with someone I love, and we'll have this treasure to relive again and again for years to come.

What a perfect day! I share my life with a man who still makes my heart skip a beat; my dress zipped up effortlessly (not so a week or two ago); and I am on the way to Tanzania. A reminder to dream, for they do indeed come true. Life is good - and for that, I am supremely grateful.

Inspired Youth Inspired Me

It's been almost a week since We Day and it's taken that long to reflect on what we witnessed, absorbed and felt. It was awe-inspiring spectacular - and a privilege to be there.

Twenty thousand youth - social activists each and every one  (cause you have to be to get to We Day) - filled the stadium. They don't sell tickets; you have to earn your seat by working for a local and global cause. Twenty thousand youth hopped up on optimism, passion, and belief that the change starts with them. The place pulsed with high octane excitement and the energy was palpable.

Kidlet and Megz and I sat glued to our front row balcony seats, soaking everything in like thirsty wanderers would take to an oasis. It was sensory overload and to tell you the truth, I needed the recharge.

I could go on and on about the dazzling entertainment; the lineup of speakers that are nothing short of heroes and legends; and how I had to fight to hold on to the last bit of mascara on my eyes ... but I think a few select quotes will give you the picture:

"While acting is what I do for a living, activism is what I do to stay alive" -Martin Sheen 

"You are part of a new generation that I call the generation without borders" -Romeo Dallaire

"We have everything we need. We have the technology, the tools... the only thing we don't have is the will to act… The will to act is a renewable resource. It lives in your heart. Wake it up!" –Al Gore

"We need to give ourselves permission to ask for help." Spencer West

Justice Murray Sinclair encouraged the new generation to right the wrongs of Canadian aboriginal residential schools. “Tell your schools you want to know the true story of the Aboriginal people.” 

You can get a taste of We Day for yourself; they are posted online. The event was kicked off by a diminutive little girl who spoke boldly about "lighting our sparks and turning them into a flame" : Watch her.

After We Day was a reception of reunions for Kidlet and I. We already had Megz with us and the icing on the cake was seeing our Maasai friends Wilson and Jackson again. We had time to chat with them and reconnect. They are now published authors and seemed surprised at the little children lining up to have them sign their book. So humble. And then, if that wasn't enough for one day, our friends Denise and Laura - both whom we met in Kenya met us for dinner. 

Who would have thought that two years ago as we sat under the stars of the Mara, warmed by the fire in a clay pot reflecting on all that we were seeing and learning - that we would once again meet - this time under the Canadian skies - to renew friendships and once again reflect on how lucky we all are. 

So as you might have guessed, my heart is full to overflowing and I thank my lucky stars for taking the leap and making the trip to Kenya. It was a gift I gave to myself, and one that has kept on giving and giving. And even more - it changed my life forever.

Now it is my turn to give, and I picked up a few good ideas!

Me and Megz

K'Naan - Is anybody out there?

Romeo Dallaire - a Canadian treasure and my hero

This is what 20,000 young change makers looks like

Wilson and Jackson back in town - centre stage

Nelly Furtado and First Nations dance troupe

Spencer West redefined possible by climbing Kilimanjaro on his hands

Spencer gives good hugs

Reunited!

Trading in traditional rubber sandals for warmer footwear

Kidlet gets Jackson to sign her copy of The Last Maasai Warrior

Our little group that started in Kenya - reunited (missing Lisa)

Thanks Kidlet for sharing the day - the gifts of our journey keep on giving ,,,

We Day Reunion

We had promised one another that we would keep our friendship kindled and stay in touch after our Kenya experience.

Such promises are not new to me ... that nice couple we met in Puerto Vallarta that we seemed to have so much in common with;  the wild professor I connected with on our excursion to the Mayan ruins with whom I exchanged mailing addresses; the list goes on. Sad farewells and heartfelt promises to write soon, stay in touch, call when in town. Crumpled little shred of paper scooped out of the washing machine with faded ink numbers. Good intentions giving way to busy schedules and resumption of daily life. Broken  promises.

But not the case with the kindred spirits I met on our Kenya trip a couple of years ago. We've kept up with one anothers' lives since our shared experience - reuniting a few months after and now again - two years later. Megz is flying in from Arizona for We Day and Kidlet and I will have some face to face time with her.

We first met in a bathroom in the Nairobi airport when she approached me and asked me if I was Lyn. She caught me off guard and I replied that yes, I was indeed her... and how did she know my name. She confessed that she recognized Kidlet from my blog! And after I learned that she too had just turned 50, it cemented the easy friendship; and when we discovered we were assigned cottage-mates - the deal was done!

Our Masai warrior friends Jackson and Wilson have arrived in Canada so we are hoping to meet up with them once again, along with a few of our other travel mates, bound forever by what we shared collectively.

When I first contemplated making the trek to Kenya, I knew that if I could summon the courage to step outside my comfort cube, that the pay-offs would be phenomenal. However I never could have imagined just how profound and lasting the experience would be for me - and Kidlet. Life changing.

And so I am in ready mode -- sweeping away old cobwebs, dusting off the vacuum, reacquainting myself with my steam mop, making up the guest room and tossing out fermented bio-things that are living in my fridge. Next stop: wine store and grocery shopping. I am as excited as a kid on Christmas morning to be reunited with my travel pals. Can you tell??

PS - Jackson and Wilson just released their first book, The Last Maasai Warriors.

Cabin mates at Bogani cottages on the Mara

Give a Little to Women in War

Photo courtesy of http://hhi.harvard.edu/programs-and-research/women-in-war

For decades now rape and other atrocities have been used as weapons of war – with women bearing the brunt of this horrific strategy. Tens of thousands of women have had their lives and bodies decimated by rape or sexually mutilation, and are left with horrifying physical and mental trauma – and a debilitating fistula.

What is a fistula? The explanation is not for the squeamish. Simply put, a fistula is a hole between the birth passage and an internal organ such as the bladder or rectum, damaging a woman so severely that she cannot hold her urine, and.or bowel content. Prolonged labour or complicated childbirth without medical intervention can cause a fistula as can sexual violence. More than the physical scar is the societal blemish a fistula imposes. If she survives, a woman with fistula is likely to be rejected by her husband because of her inability to bear more children and her foul smell. She will be shunned by her community and forced to live an isolated existence. These women suffer profound psychological trauma resulting from their utter loss of status and dignity, in addition to suffering constantly from their physical internal injury.

This week I donated to the Harvard Humanitarian Initiative (HHI) partnership with Panzi, a Congolese hospital, focused on identifying ways to prevent and reduce the impact of violence that can protect Congolese women's health and human rights at the individual, community, and international levels.They also work to provide counselling to the men of the community to help shift attitudes and promote healing.

These women need the help and empathy of their sisters around the world who can relate to their suffering. I can count my blessings and dig deep as one whose biggest problem on a given day is whether to charge it or use my debit card.

Read about my weekly Give a Little challenge and other posts. I have to give ongoing props to Wendy Smith for her inspiring book, Give a Little. Consider giving it a read.

In Touch

Apres dinner recaps in our open air dining on the Mara, Kenya

It's been more than a year and a half since Kidlet and I took our trip to Kenya. But I knew then that the life-altering experience was one that would keep on giving - and it has - in so many ways. The bonds formed with trip mates from sharing wonderment and awe over dinners eaten under the Kenyan night have remained. We were from far and near -- Phoenix, Ohio, and Toronto. And since our adventure, our lives have taken the usual twists and turns, and changes. Through it all, with the use of technology, we stayed in touch.

I got an email from Megz, my Phoenix friend, bubbling with news of her next trip to the Mara and her philanthropic capers. She added news of the upcoming wedding of her daughter and her hopes to be a grandmother one day. I could picture her with her youthful demeanor sitting casually draped across from me, eyes wide-eyed and twinkling with excitement as she filled us all in. Lisa is expecting her first baby; Laura is working on her Masters degree; and Denise is always off on voluntours with one or more of her enlightened kids.

Our ages span a gap of almost twenty years yet we found a kinship, a sisterhood in one another. And even though geography and time divide us, there is a comfort in this easy circle of affection and caring we have formed.

I "replied to all" and gave them the scoop on Kidlet and I and added my direct questions for each. Now all I have to do is wait - and the responses will come tumbling in. Insta-joy! I believe we will meet again soon, and once again sitting lazily around the dinner table, laughing, debating and discussing the woes of the world and how we may play a part in the change.

Life is a generous hostess, serving up rich and lasting mementos of my experiences and adventures.  My heart is full to overflowing and my relationships meaningful and many. And for that, I am profoundly grateful.

Give a Little to Help Those Affected by HIV/AIDS

Image courtesy of www.orphanbracelet.org

My last few Give a Little donations have been to organizations dedicated to turning the tide of HIV/AIDS in Africa and supporting the victims left in the wake of this horrific pandemic.

Orphan Bracelet Campaign sales help mothers and children in South Africa whose lives have been severely impacted by HIV/AIDS. The bracelet making program provides HIV/AIDS affected women with a living wage and the skills to become self-sustaining pillars of their communities. This is my favourite kind of giving -- to support causes that help people lift themselves up, and live the kind of life they deserve. And it is as simple as buying a $15 bracelet. 


In keeping with the theme of grassroots movements, I donated to another important effort to help fight AIDS. When I read about 54 year old Nola Reynolds'  DARE for the Stephen Lewis Foundation to support grassroots efforts to turn the tide of HIV/AIDS, I had to give a little support.  She is shaking off fear and misgivings and donning her courage suit to bike from Cairo to Capetown over the next four months to raise awareness of and funds for the AIDS pandemic. Stephen Lewis is one of my heroes so naturally anyone throwing their efforts behind his quest to improved the lives of millions of African women and children, deserves my support. I am going to follow Nola's progress on her blog.


I just gave a little, but as Wendy Smith writes in her inspiring book, Give a Little, if many give a little to many, collectively it will make a big difference to many organizations. And by little, I mean every dollar counts. T'is the giving season.


Read about my weekly Give a Little Challenge and other posts. 

Give a Toilet and a Little Empowerment

Photo credit: Gates Foundation

Thanks to a nasty headache that landed me on my assets for most of the day, I am not feeling like the day was particularly productive. The bright spots were the initiatives I found to support for my "give a little" effort.

I have been lax in blogging about my weekly give a little challenge so please bear with me.

In honour of World Toilet Day, and the 2+ billion people who do not have access to a private, clean place to poop oh don't be a prude - we all do it, I donated to World Toilet Org. I can't help it -- the thought of doing my private business in public is unfathomable so anything I can do to support the cause to improve the situation ... The mission of this organization is to improve sanitation conditions for people globally through advocacy, inventive technology, education and building marketplace opportunities locally. Like the Gates Foundation, they are supporting efforts to reinvent the conventional toilet; to find solutions that are not water based. It doesn't get any more basic or revolutionary than that!

Wendy Smith, author of Give a Little inspired me yet again with her suggestion to donate to the Imagine Rural Development Initiative (IRDI). This Zambian non-profit organisation is providing free skills-training in moringa cultivation to 30 previously unemployed local Zambian women. Moringa is an affordable and highly-nourishing superfood that can fight malnutrition, improve health and eradicate poverty. Sound good? Many of the local women taking the training are widows and breadwinners in their families and take care of not only their own children, but also grand-children and orphans who have lost their own parents due to HIV/AIDS and other illnesses. The donations help sustain the families while the women take the 6 month training. Wherever possible sustainability is key for me in my "investing" efforts. Don't we all want the same thing; to be able to take care of ourselves and our family and provide the foundation on which to build dreams?

So although I spent most of the day horizontal with reruns of "Love it or List it" playing in the background (helps me sleep), I feel like somehow I made a small, positive contribution and the day wasn't a total write off. And so another week begins!

Give a Little Hope and Life to those Suffering the East Africa Famine

Photo from UN Info Service  

For the past month, I have been consumed with the disaster that has unfolded with the famine in Somalia. The devastation to human life is epic and something that in the West, for most, is inconceivable. We cannot grasp the sheer magnitude of suffering and I am not sure we even want to. We turn away from the horror and the ugly and the reminder of the comfort and abundance in our own lives. Life is stressful these days for everyone it seems; it’s too much to take on.

But how can we not? As I searched for my weekly “give a little” opportunities, I couldn’t get past the famine and the eyes of the mothers who have sacrificed children on the trek to save their families. I couldn’t get past the pools of sorrow and fear in the eyes of  babies who have no parents. It’s humongous with more than 12 million lives at risk and experts are predicting the effects of this drought will be felt for years after.

I usually try to pick organizations that provide sustainable solutions to communities who need it most. But what is more “sustainable” than providing basic sustenance for people who will die – and are dying - without it? So for the past four weeks I have donated to agencies dedicated to providing food and care to the people who have been devastated by the drought; this disaster not of their own design nor making. In keeping with Wendy Smith’s philosophy of spreading the love, I donated “a little” to four different agencies. I stuck mainly to Canadian agencies because the Canadian government is matching all donations until September 16th:

Oxfam Canada East Africa Food Crisis
Red Cross Canada Horn of Africa Drought
Free the Children Program to Help Build a Sustainable Future
World Food Program (WFP)

I know we are weary and have problems of our own but I can’t help feeling that any problems we may be encountering here at home, pale in comparison to the mountain of hopelessness that is building as I type these words. Wendy Smith taught me that a little goes a long way, when multiplied by many. So – I am giving a little hope to our family across the world, that they may know that we care if they live.