Moving Right Along....Ah No

It is now Tuesday afternoon here in Lovely Luton.  The skies are still dreary and it’s cold, but the good news is that I keep hearing planes take off.  When I go on the website for Luton Airport I see most planes are leaving and those that are delayed are delayed by a quarter hour.  My spirits soar.

I realized as I hurried down the path for breakfast today that I was ecstatic I was going to be able to eat 3 meals today, if I wanted to.  They are actually quite cordial at the Beefeater Lounge and Restaurant. They smile, they bring you what you want, and they actually are open when I need them. And they make a killer treacle pudding.

I continue to be more fortunate than most. British Air once again today cancelled all it’s short haul flights. The T.V reports are now scathing and calling for heads to roll. It seems that in their infinite wisdom British Air Authorities (not to be confused with British Air, although I think that’s a lie) grounded all planes on Saturday not thinking about how they would clean the runway with all the planes parked there.

So there is this horrific mess of planes with tons of frozen snow under them that they can’t move. Add to that the general disarray, lack of snow plows (they have half as many as Gatwick which only has 1 runway) and the utter incompetence of planning by any of the officials and you have one very angry mob.

The other really fascinating and maddening thing is the websites for flights out. Heathrow, in their infinite wisdom, has posted the flights out (mostly to Helsinki, Sweden and parts of the U.S.). If your flight is not “scheduled”, that means you are sol. They say contact the airlines, but that’s a joke. You can’t contact the airlines here. What I figured out is to Skype them in the U.S and wait the required hour for them to tell you that it’s tough luck and they are going to do nada (see I have a Spanish word in my vocab in case I get there) That is making people angry with a white hot rage that alone would melt the runways if they let them out there.

I am hoping my ability to give up and not press on when it looks like folly will pay off tomorrow and I will get out of here. I bailed on Heathrow yesterday and paid Dear Spencer the cabdriver $300 to get to Lovely Luton There is more snow predicted (about 4 inches) but rumor has it that it will stop by morning and my flight is out at night.

Ok I just had to post this one as well. It also reminds me of the attitude of the Government and the airlines in this situation. And I guess you could say they were caught with their pants down...oops missing.

Keep your fingers crossed. And if you’re not totally bored check in again.

Keep the faith y’all

Sittn in My La La Waitn for My Ya Ya....

Christmas in Madrid, a lovely sounding time yes? No. I vowed long ago never to fly during the Christmas season. A white Christmas means that it is either snowing, about to snow or we’re digging out.  These things in Boston may mean the airport is shut for a day or so, but in London it is a disaster.

As I boarded my flight to Heathrow on Friday, the ticket agent could not give me my seat assignment from Heathrow to Madrid. I didn’t think anything of it, ha ha! Something should have warned me that I had my seat assignments for the rest of my trip including the seats from Madrid to NYC and Boston. Never dawned on me that they were messing with me.

Arrival at the grueling hour of 6:30A was not a big deal for me. I have flown into Heathrow many times before. I knew the drill. I checked into BA got my seat assignment and settled into a good movie. Ooops it’s snowing, oh well no big deal, it was the fluffy white stuff, nothing serious. Then all hell broke loose, I got to the gate and they denied me access. Seems the airport had shut down and all I could do is wave goodbye to my flight to Madrid. And that was the end of all flying for Saturday.

If one watches British T.V, or follows the monarchy one thinks of the Brits with excellent manners. Talk about lying in the media. Things at Heathrow deteriorated very rapidly; BA ran away from their desks and hid. No one would tell us anything. Ah thank heavens for the massive display of electronics I carry with me at all times. That and credit cards which I have no problem using when hooking to my IV line of wifi. Boingo I love you! I was soon on all the major sites. Then I realized the way to solve this problem was not going to happen at the airport. Thank heavens I gave up by noon and went off to find a hotel. There were thousands stranded there last night sleeping with thermal blankets and NO TOILET PAPER in the loo! (to say nothing of no food, water or other essentials)

I got a hotel about 15 minutes on a good day from the airport.  The taxi driver relished telling me of the horrors yet to come because of the drive, the inability of the authorities to take care of the runways and generally implying that not only might I never get to Spain but that there was a good likelihood as a result of this trip I may just have to become a British citizen.

BA is picking up the tab for my staying at this dump, and Betty, it is indeed a dump replete a veritable UN of disgruntled people begging to pay the $200 to get a room. Ah the Internet. Yee Haw! I queued up to sign in and was ensconced in my room by 2ish. However I had not eaten which has continued to be a problem here in Felltham.

Quickly I figured out the way to get out of here was to Skype American Airlines in the U.S. Over here it is the inmates have taken over the entire city and there isn’t a drop of haldol in sight. After an hour I got through and got a reservation for Sunday.

The Fascist Major Domo at the restaurant refused to give me anything to eat because it wasn’t time yet. Thank heavens I was carrying contraband cheddar cheese for my daughter, which I swiftly broke into. My stomach howled until 6:30P when they opened for dinner. Along with other stragglers I made my way to the restaurant only to be asked if I had a reservation. Are you kidding? I was just here 4 hours ago and you said to come back at 6:30P, no mention of a reservation. However some very nice Finnish people with their baby (who had come in from Uganda) asked me to sit at their table while I watched their daughter Annabelle play with a wind up butterfly and slurp plain pasta. Yes it is an Italian restaurant, but they were out of almost everything.

I rose early this morning since I did have a confirmed reservation to Madrid. Ahhhh, no. Airport was totally shut. That’s how I met Christie  (from North Dakota) husband Andy (from Spain) and the mother in law who was suffering from advanced stages of Alzheimer’s. They were stuck here and mom was having a hard time and kept wandering the halls asking people if they had seen her dog. Christie and Andy were worried that it was so hard on her and I flipped back that even if it was she wouldn’t remember. Her dog died 15 years ago. They had come in from Texas and were totally bent out of shape. Seems they had gone to the airport and were flagged away. They weren’t letting anyone in or out of the airport. OMG it’s getting to be like a Hitchcock movie.

She couldn’t figure out how to get on the internet (that’s because if you didn’t buy it at the airport you couldn’t sign on here. )Too much of an overload. Of course, somewhere I remember dialup Internet don’t I????

So the fam tramped up to my room and used Skype. Continental basically told them to fart in the wind. They then tried BA but they weren’t answering their phones here or stateside.  Iberia had gone into hiding and only Alitalia, which was of no use, even answered the phone. So I called American for them but after an hour on hold they said whatever Continental said they agreed. They left my room. They were supposed to pick me up for dinner (to avoid the Fascist downstairs another night) but I haven’t seen them since.

Not having learned my lesson, (though I did make a reservation) I ambled down to the restaurant where Mussolini was ignoring everyone in line. Finally I told him I’d do take away and he then reviewed all the things they didn’t have. However there was a guy trying to get to Helsinki who had an IPad and said there was a Chinese place across the street that he had eaten at last night. So I booked it across the street to the nastiest Chinese takeout place I’ve ever seen. Makes my local dive look like a palace.  It was run by a Chinese Brit but it bore no resemblance to Chinese food I have eaten before. What I’m eating Chinese take out in a suburb of London while praying that tomorrow I can get the 6P plane to Barcelona, stay over night there and take the bullet train to Madrid on Tuesday.

At least from my window I can now hear a plane taking off. Although the Chinese Brit did relish telling me that when it happened here last Feb. people were stuck for a week.

  

Yes Virginia

Hopefully most of you know about the little girl who wrote to a newspaper asking if Santa was real. I believe it was the New York Times. She did receive a beautiful letter back saying "Yes Virginia there is a Santa Claus".

I am returning home to Kenya in 6 weeks. Monica and I finally got to talk. It’s always a challenge and today was no different. We wanted to Skype, and we did try, but her connection just didn’t work. However technology being what it is, I was able to Skype to her mobile phone. You really have to be patient, creative and try many things before something works. It took us 3 days to connect. That’s hard for people here to wrap their heads around. However it has made me a much more mellow old lady.

Much to my delight the reports from 2 of our schools were fantastic. The villagers are so serious about the micro-finance that they hired a debt collector to get money from those who don’t pay back in time. Seems the Iron Lady of Malanga has her hands full managing 129 different groups and said she would not track people down. So the villagers took matters into their own hands and hired some muscle. You can’t imagine how amazing that is. I feel like Sally Fields, they get it they really get it.

I sent the board the good news about the schools, the proposed new school. I do believe I have told you that I have the greatest Board of Directors ever, right? Keep reading to understand the insertion of this paragraph.

The not so fun part of this job is the very difficult decisions I have to make. We dropped a school because it just wasn’t performing, and I know those kids will go hungry. But we are adamant that people learn to fish, not just eat them.

We use something called Mission Air Packs which are sponsored by the drug companies. It allows non-profits like ours to bring much needed supplies over to third world countries. I had my list out while Monica and I were talking. We were trying to decide which they needed more. Hmmm-prenatal vitamins or children’s antibiotics? Stethoscopes or suture kits? Anti-fungal or anti-diarrheals? And the otoscopes were simply out of the question. I told Monica to send me a wish list and I would see what we could do about the extra supplies.

Ok ready? While I’m suffering over this list I get an email from our chairman for fundraising. She writes me and tells me that the gentleman at the next desk just wrote out a check for $500! Well gang that covers everything. So for once no hard medical decisions and my Christmas Miracle was made.

What I know is that opportunity happens in the now. And God really does listen. And sometimes when you’re about to loose it, just what you needed comes through. It is faith, dear readers, and I strongly recommend you aim in that direction. You never know what opportunity or miracle is waiting for you.

Swanky But Don't Touch

There was a man named Edwin Bernays who was known as the Doctor of Spin. He actually invented subliminal advertising and made his fortune getting women to smoke, chew gum and clean. After World War II they had to get the women out of the work force and back in the home so the guys could get their jobs back. Hmm…the women really liked working and the freedom it provided them. So Bernays came up with the idea to renovate the kitchen and make it more streamlined. Out went the old kitchen table and the icebox and in came chrome and white and shiny stuff. And it was much harder to keep clean, so the little lady had to work harder to keep the kitchen clean with all the “time saving” appliances she now had.  That was 60 years ago. 

Ooops….no I guess Bernays was also the father of the kitchen renovation.  And I’m not sure whether to be grateful or cuss the guy out. (He’s dead so he’s lucky millions of women have not risen up and killed him). Ah the renovations in the kitchen are done, and what a swanky kitchen I have. Its all white, very streamlined and what isn’t white is stainless steel. And literally that’s the rub. Now every fingerprint shows on the stainless. My daughter reassures me they make special stainless steel wipes. Great.

Then there’s all the granite. See how it shines. See the special products I now need to keep it clean. Gone is the butcher-block counter where I could slice, dice and drop hot pots. Now I have different cutting boards for different purposes. I have glass, bamboo, butcher block, and granite. BTW the granite one is so heavy I’m sure I’ll break it by week’s end.

Oh look at those white white cabinets. Wow they’re shiny and bright too. Yeah and I’ve already got some dirty fingerprints on the inside of one and yes there is a special product to get that out. 

Wow how about that sleek cook top. It’s black and stainless. It has a computer chip. It has child locks that the cats turn on by walking on the top. It takes me several minutes to unlock the cook top. And yes it has a special product to clean it too. The hood is pretty space age too. I haven’t had an exhaust fan in years, but I’m wondering how to keep the glass part clean and where to change the filter. I’m suspecting this could get really ugly.

I gave the old refrigerator away to one of the workmen for this fabulous new edition. It does everything but brush my teeth and it reminds me every 15 seconds if I leave the door open. It lets out a piercing alert that makes the dogs next-door howl with indignation and makes me want to kill the alarm. I’m going to have to read the directions to see if I can turn the little sucker off. It seems that all appliances come with beeping mechanisms now. Even the washing machine and dryer beep incessantly to tell me “Get up here you lazy sloth and clean the lint filter!”

I have the kitchen now from all the HG T.V specials, the counters from Architectural Digest, the cabinets everyone swoons over, and yes about 8 more hours in my week just to keep it clean. Maybe I’ll just look at it and get take out.

Dirt is My Friend

I see my last post was before the funeral I held yesterday. If you go by the house you should see the black bunting. I simply cannot do adequate justice to how I feel about the elections, so faced with the dreadful results I have decided to give you a bit of mirth instead.

                         The last of my ovens, and cabinets. I think that's a tool kit on top

Often people ask me about the conditions in Kenya, and I try to explain about the lack of power, the dust, and things breaking or not showing up on time.  They shake their heads as if they can’t possibly imagine it.

Guess what campers? You’re in luck; I have finally found something here stateside that imitates life in Kenya.  Destroy your house with remodeling that gives you the constant waft of dust and definitely cakes in your hair just like the roads of Nambale.

In particular try and redo the kitchen, the roof and have air-conditioning put in at the same time so that you can have the full flavor of debris.

The kitchen is an awesome example and I recommend cooking until you can cook no more. I, for one, am not daunted by the lack of counter space, nor do I mind scrubbing down things before cooking. I think, though I have met my match and may just have to start going out for some meals soon.

                           Notice the sanitary conditions of the cooking surface

However, last night, I felt the need for a Japanese chicken dish that I have not had in years. Don’t ask me why, these things just come to me at odd hours and I seem to do them. So I marinated the chicken in a plate I found under the insulation. I chopped the veggies with a paring knife I found on the floor (I had used it for opening packages); and found two pans with which to cook. Ooops no sesame oil, no matter, I guess it’s butter. I had anticipated a couple of things and did have a fresh bag of jasmine rice I had hidden in the bureau drawer in the back bedroom and I hid the fizzy water mixer in my bathroom next to the exfoliating cream. 

                                Dinner is almost ready, do come and join me

When all the people, both clients and workmen, left the house I let the kitties out and set to work. Ok, the cook top was at peak capacity but I did manage to get everything into the right pots, finish the deed and take it up to my refuge in the back bedroom. I was pretty psyched until the final part of Kenya hit me.

Alas, when putting in the ducting for the air-conditioning, they had cut the power to the bedrooms.  Ok, of all things we get used to in Kenya it’s lace of power. So I turned to my trusty halogen flashlight, polished off dinner and read my kindle. Thank heavens for batteries.

They say the electrician will be here today, but I’m not optimistic, but it’s ok. It’s raining out and I can pretend I’m at the Blue York in a storm. I’m just grateful I haven’t lost hot water yet.

2 Weeks till Showtime

Tomorrow is Weds. Oct 20, 2010. Perhaps it isn't that memorable a day to anyone unless they happen to be born on this day. But tomorrow I will wear purple, not because I am old, (which is true) but to support gay kids all over. I will actually wear purple and black, since the day has been put aside to mourn the gay kids who have been killing themselves like lemmings in the past few months. What does it say about where we are that there needs to be a site: www.itgetsbetterproject.org, where countless interviews by gays are posted on youtube to reassure gay kids that IF they can make it through school, they can get away from the bullies and the teasing and the rejection. It speaks volumes about where we are as a country and Mother is not happy.

I must admit that I am already dreading election day. I'm afraid Barak just never made the switch to being a man of the people. He campaigned well, but he just can't seem to get how to get down with folks. I find that depressing since it has given rise to a lunatic fringe like I've never seen before. I know that some thought my generation were out of control, but we have come into our own and the war in Viet Nam was a travesty and indeed Nixon was a crook. So we don't measure up to the Tea Party Lunatics.

It's much better when they make fools of themselves in person, that's what my daddy used to say. Things can be written about folks, or ads can show things but when you get a real bona fide idiot running for Senate and not familiar with the First Amendment, well honey that just has to go up here. And here's my favorite Republican I love to taunt, Christine ODonnell in the flesh.



Pray for us, my friends, and for heaven's sake get out there and vote!!!

Tea Party and Olympics Won't Mix

Today I was reading the news and came upon an article about the Games in India. It seems that the 7,000 free condoms already given out have clogged the plumbing. What's even better it is estimated that they will have to give out more. The article goes on to tell us that for the last Olympics they gave out 100,000.

As an AIDS worker I find this great news since it means that the kids are practicing safe sex. But wait up there little campers, whatever are the Tea Party folks going to do about this. Are they going to declare that the Olympics and all other games (including the Pan America games) will be off limits? Will they forbid the American men at least from participating?? I wonder if this will become a campaign issue. Maybe I should contact Rachel Maddow and she can look into it for me.

After all if dear Christine thinks she can forbid kids from masturbating what on earth is she going to do with condoms, perish the thought. And then there's Sarah, gosh isn't she just grand? The spokesperson for abstinence whose daughter had a kid out of wedlock, if she's president can you imagine the problems for Trojan?? Why they might need a bail out!

And that's my observation for the day. Keep the faith y'all

Really?? Really????????

It is hard for me to believe that election time has come around again. Sarah Palin's daughter is on Dancing with the Stars (her mom was probably pissed she wasn't asked) and there is a new rising star in the Republican spotlight (well really Tea Party) that is beyond belief. Christine Odonnell. Ok, I know she's dabbled in witchcraft, that she thinks mice are being genetically altered to have human brains (yeah no kidding) and that China wants to go to war with us and take over our country. The fact that she is dumb as a rock is beside the point. We have plenty of idiots in Congress. What I find incredible are some of her stances on AIDS and masturbation.

Masturbation, yes I said it. She would like to stop kids from doing that. She doesn't think it's effective in curbing their sexual desires and it doesn't help with abstinence. Aside from the sheer lunacy of trying to stop any red blooded boy or girl from masturbating, how does she get enough votes in Delaware to beat out her Republican opponent? How is this happening? I must be living in a totally alternative universe which I hope I can continue to live in long enough for the Republicans to blow themselves up.

Please God, get the dems out to vote or it's going to be a very very very long 2 years.

And for those of you who just have to see it, here is Ms. Odonnell on the subject of masturbation.

Say YES

I suppose some people reading this would never get how cool my life is or what pleasure I take in helping people get together.  I know it’s not about me, I’m just the conduit for the spirit to pass through me. But sometimes, it is so much fun that I just have to shout out loud.

As you all know, 3 intrepid board members are over in Kenya as I write this blog. Despite my dotage, I am on facebook frequently. I noticed that one of the original Peacekeepers from years back was working in Kisi (not far from where we are working). K is a remarkable young woman, who of course, was destined to meet me. She and I get that. Her destiny as a pediatrician working in Africa was clear to us from the moment we met. She even took a year off from medical school to work in Rwanda. Yesterday I saw her post that she was in Kisumu. And today I was able to catch her on facebook, say hi, and introduce her to our board members. Hopefully tomorrow they will all be swimming at the Kiboko Club and will go on Safari together.

K will also be of great help to Monica and KMET and of course it will be reciprocal. All these amazing people, so very far away are right here with me in my heart. They travel under God’s grace and plan. I’ve never understood why I get to do the things I do but for all of those who understand that there is a plan for all of us, try not to doubt it. If the opportunity opens up, say yes.. It is 9 years ago that I said yes to my first madcap adventure in Ethiopia. That simple yes has enriched my life, grown my soul and made me an infinitely gentler person that I was.What a difference yes can make.

And my prayer tonight is that all of you who read this know and accept that you are part of this magical plan. And I will pray you say YES.

Passing the Torch

I sit here tonight thinking about the young board members who are about to embark for Kenya. I cannot know exactly what they will see, but I know it will change their lives. And I know that they in turn will change the world.

So often people come to me for so many reasons, and I cannot help but be totally grateful for all who enter my life now. I think of these intrepid young women, spending their own money, (and trust me it ain’t cheap) to be part of the first Breast Cancer walk in Kenya. How amazing is that! Part of me wishes I was going with them, but I know this is their trip. Dr. Seuss once wrote "Ah the places you will go". I suspect each of the women had that read to them growing up, but never thought it would go that far. They will see our schools and our micro-finance, they will meet the women and see lions and hippos. They are the next generation that a friend of mine promised would come to me. Gladly I pass the torch to them. 

One of the nicest things about being 63 is that life is sweet and the things you worry about in your 20’s-50’s just aren’t that important. It is so easy to share One Village with all who want to be apart of it. There was a time when my ego felt I had to make things happen, I was in charge. How silly of me. The universe is always doing what the universe is going to do. It’s only an illusion that anyone makes anything happen. It’s just the universe (or God as I believe) cooperating with us, or maybe we’re cooperating with God.

So I wish Ash and Johanna and Bonnie traveling mercies (as we say in Kenya). And I wait, with great anticipation, to hear how the world unfolds for them. Tonight it feels really great to be part of God’s plan.

Keep the faith y’all.

Mwanamke Huru (Women Liberated!)

This morning when I woke the first thing I read was from Monica (Mama KMET). The letter was filled with joy and optimism. Kenya had passed the new constitution in Peace. I sit here, now, filled with some many thoughts and feelings.

My journey in Kenya started 9 years ago. Kibeki had just been elected and there was a sense of a way forward. People felt that there would be equitable allocation of land, and that things would definitely improve. That was a bit of an overestimation given that Kibeki had been in a horrendous accident that left him with a head injury. His wife frankly ran the country for quite a while.

In 2007 candidates came forward for the new elections. At the same time Mungiki started up and violence exploded, even before the elections began. The pressure mounted, the election got down to a Kikuyu and a Luo and it got really ugly.Just before Christmas 2008 the elections occurred and Kenya exploded For 3 months the country reeled, buildings were burned, children were killed, panga wielding youths attacked each other, and the nightmare went on and on. Each day I read the papers and felt such despair, and I wasn't even a resident.



This is what it looked like during the riots.

Upon finally returning to Kenya in April 2008, while the rioting and burning had finished, the communities were visibly shaken. Being a muzungu (white girl) and not belonging to any tribe, people from each tribe I worked with, described their take on the rioting, who really won the election and what wrongs had been inflicted upon them.

The schools we were working with just went totally down hill, and my dismay continued over the next year. It was not until we united with KMET and people honestly spoke about never returning to the unruly disruption and chaos of the election past, that One Village turned around. I also like to think that Kenya began again.

So many of the inequities of government were going to be addressed in the new constitution. A promise made over 20 years ago, was being written, argued about and finally, finally voted on this past week. For women in particular, the strides are tremendous. They can inherit, they are seen as equals. The women who are the biggest voters anyway can now be better represented in government. Maybe, maybe one day a woman will run Kenya as a woman runs Liberia, and is the vice president of Malawi.

Tonight I smile. Tonight I stand with my Dada Monica and all the women of Kenya. Tonight I stand with all Kenyans who have accomplished so much by passing the constitution in peace. Blessings on all Matokeo Ya Utafutajikwa. I am so happy for you all.

The Nation Newspaper 7 August 2010

It’s a big win for Kenyan women

Women are awaiting emancipation and empowerment when the new constitution takes effect.

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“It is as if it was written for us,” said Kathiani MP Wavinya Ndeti. “We will now be recognised. We will now have equal treatment of men and women, including job opportunities. Women whose husbands die will no longer be disinherited,” said Ms Ndeti.

She said women were the greatest beneficiaries of new constitution adding that children were also properly protected.

Article 68 protects dependants of the deceased which, the MP said, “will bring to an end cases where women are thrown out of their matrimonial homes when their husbands die”.

Nominated MP Millie Odhiambo celebrates the fact that the new law also protects matrimonial homes and widows’ rights to land, and the two provisions will provide greater security for women.

Article 45 (3) also entitles to married people equal rights.

Victims of sexual and gender violence have received special attention. The new constitution further protects children, minority and marginalised groups.

Discrimination of women at the workplace because of pregnancy and marriage will now be a thing of the past.

On citizenship, women have been conferred the same rights as men, which means if a woman gets pregnant by non-Kenyan, the child could get Kenyan citizenship.

Article 14(1) says a person is a citizen if, at birth, either the mother or father is a citizen.

Article 15 further states that a person who has been married to a citizen for at least seven years is entitled on application to be registered as a citizen.

Women further stand to benefit from representation, as each county is required to elect a woman representative to the National Assembly.

In addition, at least six of the 12 members nominated to the National Assembly shall be women. There will be 18 women in the Senate under reserved seats.

Women will be free to contest the remaining seats in the Senate and National Assembly.

“Kenyan women will therefore have true and strong representation in the legislative arms of government. They will direct and influence laws. They will determine development priorities and the application of resources,” said Water Minister Charity Ngilu added.

Through the Kenya Women Parliamentarians Association secretary Cecily Mbarire said the new constitution would render void customary or religious laws that are in contradiction with its provisions.

“This is important to women because the current Constitution has legitimised subordination of women as it embraces legal pluralism, which embodies customary and religious laws that are discriminatory to women,” she said.

                                                            The Future is Theirs

Yes Virginia Idealism Still Lives

Pretty Cool Shirt Huh?

It is an odd quirk of my nature that I can sit comfortably under the African sun and be perfectly content that it is 90 degrees, however 90 degrees in Boston is really quite a misery. I am irritable; I hate being grimy from sweat, and feel the closeness of the city. I suspect that is why it has taken me longer than I wanted to write this blog.

One Village at a Time is blessed with many people who believe in what we are doing. What is most gratifying is that I am the oldest member of this gang by at least 20 years and in some cases 40 years.  I remember being infused with politics and suckled by activism, it is indeed in my blood. This Baby Boomer age seems to think that we were the last of the breed. I wish my voice were louder to emphatically say no, but Boomers are still catching up to the web 2.0 age and are not big blog readers.

It has been such a fulfilling past week. Tiny Revolutionary.com, which is run by a friend of my daughter’s, put out the tee shirt, which will raise money for our work in Nambale. It’s a funny story actually. I went on their website to see what they made and was impressed with their idea of bringing kids up as socially conscious humans. I saw that they sponsored charities and wrote to the owner. After several emails back and forth, the owner said she would love to be part of One Village. It was only after I commented on her brown hair, which I remember as red that she actually connected the dots to my daughter. Breeanne (owner of Tiny Revolutionary) just wanted to help, and it didn’t matter whose mother I was. It’s a pretty spiffy tee and it comes in sizes from 3m-Adult XL.

At the same time I have been helping a couple of board members and another young woman plan their trip to Kenya. They are going over there to see what we do, and importantly they are doing it on their dime. That is no small commitment given the $1400 airfare alone. How wonderful it is to open up a world for these women, to help them know that they can really make a difference, that they are the change they want the world to be. I will not be going with them. This is their trip and as those of you who know me know, I follow my instincts. This is supposed to be seen and recorded by young eyes, and by young I mean the oldest is 29 and it goes down from there.

Spreading fairy dust seems to come with marvelously rich rewards. I suggest you try it.

I'm Feeling Tinkish

There was a song when I was in High School sung by the Kingston Trio. The first line went “They’re rioting in Africa” and it goes on to delineate all the troubles of the world. For those who are wondering the year was 1963. I have not written since the pork party because, frankly the news sucks. Although I am delighted to announce that the pork revelers did consume all 40 lbs. of the succulent meat.

The World Cup, which was supposed to bring people together, and how excited we, who work and live in Africa, were that it was held on African soil, became for me another tragedy when people were killed in Uganda just watching the game. I don’t know if I totally believe in terrorists per se, but I do know what hatred looks like. I have seen it up close and personal, so I was totally saddened by the massacre. And I wonder if we have become so numb to the tragedies that they just pass us by.

I know for several weeks I couldn't watch the news because I couldn't stand looking at all the oil sodden animals, and thinking of them dying. Now the news shouts that people have moved on from Haiti. It's sort of like the tragedy of the week. I am grateful for all those who stick by me and help me in Kenya, since it has been 9 years now, and believe it or not we haven' t solved the problem. 

I suspect I don’t have to do the entire litany of dreadful things happening, Arizona, Tea Party, Gulf War, Gulf Pollution…yeah on and on. So I was hoping that I could be like Tinkerbell and just spread some fairy dust around. I wish I could make it all go away, but that wouldn’t be God’s world. But I do feel very Tinkish right now.

It says on my message on my phone: “Courage Doesn’t Always Roar. Sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of a day saying,” I will try again tomorrow”. So let’s all try.

And for those who want to hear the song here it is:

Let The Porkathon Begin

I realized ( or actually it was pointed out to me) that I haven’t written anything in a while. Which is true. So I thought I would let you in on the over the top events in Boston during June.

The Pride parade is tomorrow. To be honest it used to be over the top, but now it’s so politically correct that it makes me long for the good old days. Where are the topless Dykes on Bikes? Or Ramrod’s Giant penis spouting bubbles? I miss Homos on Harleys and the Jock Cock men who marched in leather jock straps only. However, it is always amusing to see folks from Red States who wander into the South End trying to get into a restaurant when a giant Drag Queen accosts them and hands them a rainbow condom.  I love this time of year and I love the parade. I am glad to live in a State where this nonsense is loved and love itself is not adjudicated by the court system or the state government.

It is also time to start preparing for the annual Porkathon. It is an orgy I prepare once a year for all my friends, One Village at a Time people (not to be confused with the Village People….that’s the first paragraph) and my gay husbands. The event must be held on a Sunday night since my husbands who are in town this weekend spend every other one in Provincetown and can only just get back in time.

It is a cholesterol bonanza. Not only do I smoke 40 lbs of pork and then put it in luscious sauce well spiced with bourbon, but there is homemade mac and cheese, corn bread, baked beans, and of course pecan pie. I use butter at every opportunity. I love cream, whole milk, pounds of cheddar cheese, oh and mayo. For those of us with southern roots you must understand that  everything is better with either mayo or bacon or both. Salt, pepper, sugar and bourbon are seasonings, and one should always use them in liberal amounts.

I do not usually eat the day of. It is one of the ironies of life that when you reach a certain age (and I’m there honey) your metabolism slows down. I have found that no matter what I eat or how much I work out my weight seems to be more tied to the stock market that to any caloric intake on my part. And besides, by the time of the event I’ve pulled enough pork, sampled enough mac and cheese etc. that I’m happy to let everyone help themselves.

So this week I began the porkathon. Armed with 40 lbs in the freezer I will set up the smoker and begin the roasting. I do this after midnight since we’re not supposed to bbq on the roof. But hell, for those who know me smoking pork is tame compared to the fireworks I set off. One year everyone had to duck for cover since one misfired and turned back on the crowd instead of up in the air.

Ahhhh June in the South End. A wonderful time of year unless you’re a pig.

Keep the faith y’all.

Ta Daaa!

I am mackilicious. I love all things Apple and have lusted after a new computer for some time now. I know the IPad is out, but that interests me not at all. I'm too much of a size queen for that and 250GB was just too enticing. So undaunted I went out and got one. I reasoned that it would be infinitely easier to edit video this way, more room, better software blah blah blah. Indeed all of the assumptions were true, however, mastering the new puppy is a work in progress.

Film editing is not for the faint of heart. Despite Apple's intuitive ILife, it took me well over 40 hours to complete this, my first masterpiece, on the new Macbook Pro. However, I'm pretty happy with the results. So without further ado, I give you my first attempt at truly showing what we are doing in Kenya.



Keep the Faith Y'all

They are not Throwaways

It is hard to believe I am home a month. As I sat last night, my computer in my lap, the soft sound of a fountain in the dining room, food in my belly, I mused at my life. I do not know exactly how I came to this moment, but I know that I was called. I also know that whatever I am asked by Him who loves me I shall do. Many of you have asked about my quick trip to get some girls out of the Congo. Suffice it to say 5 are now living in France and I pray that they can heal. For me, describing it is too difficult, so I give you this link. It seems that Ann Currie has been in Goma and has done an excellent job of taping some of the horrors of the devastation in the Congo.

Many years ago when I first started out working in the slums with children who got bounced from one home to another, I used to call them God's throwaways, because I would watch with sadness and frustration the lives of these young,hardened children, who moved with trash bags from one home to another, often being molested by foster parents. After all they were in care usually because of this kind of abuse, so frequently foster parents didn't really figure they were doing any harm.

One woman, though, has shown me that there is redemption and there is hope for the most ravaged of children. The human spirit cannot be thrown away, and even the smallest flicker of light burning in a child can burst upon the world in ways that no psychologist or social worker could ever have predicted. This woman came to me when she was 10, abused by several, tossed from foster home to foster home, no parents, no family really. All predictions were that she would end up dead or on welfare. Neither is true. She is 40 now, her children are miracles of love and kindness and the woman has been redeemed through her children.

So the girls of the Congo are not throwaways. God doesn't do that, even though it might seem that way. Perhaps they are there to make us move to higher ground, or to remind us to care. I am sorry for the misery they must endure, but my cry is to you to care. This is your opportunity to do something for children the world doesn't see.
Please watch the tv clip and then donate.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/23170518#23170518

Out of Africa

27 February 2010

I am preparing to leave Kenya. My bags are packed; the rumble of thunder can be heard above the crow of the cocks. The Amman is quiet for now and it is time to reflect.

Last night, as I thought about how far we have come; I was totally overwhelmed. From a failing feeding program in Siaya to a strong, community based program that includes feeding, nutrition, sex education, micro-finance and a strong partnership with and agency I cannot laud enough-KMET. We are the talk of Nambale and I suspect soon much of Nambale and Busia District.

Monica and I had time to talk about our impressions of the two days spent in Nambale. She is wise and spot on with her observations. The debriefing with the staff was organized, insightful and optimistic without glossing over the problems. I am excited about the partnership. Monica and I both agreed it is one thing to read a report and another to actually see what is going on. I do hope we can raise enough money for me to come back in 6 months.

There are so many things to recall; the women and Kwihirle dressing me in the green suit (which btw fits better than anything I have stateside) the children with ringworm, the vast horizon of clouds furling their plumes across the sky, the friendship that Francis and I have developed over these past 9 year. (Is it really 9 year??) It is watching Asuke work with grace as he teaches and encourages villagers to learn to save their money or plan a business. It is watching Maureen teach and the round mirth and laughter that emanates from her and always makes me smile. It is dirt roads so rutted that your head feels like it’s going to come off; it is more than I can ever share with you all.

What I really want you to know is how you can make a difference. Do not look at this blog as some amazing story; rather take away that every dollar makes a difference. $6 US will get a girl enough pads so that she can go to school. What is that these days a latte? $2 feeds a child a nutritious meal for 3 months. It’s not huge things; it’s pooling what we have and making a bigger splash. I could never do what I do without all the people who hold me up. I have a board any E.D would be green with envy to have. There is a group of volunteers who help raise the funds, who write the grants, who submit the forms to keep us afloat, who design the website and the list goes on. They are the ones I do it for as well as the women and children I serve here.

They are the Peacekeepers and though you may never meet them, know that they exist and they are making the world a better place.

And that is what I think about as I prepare for the next part of this journey. Thank you all for coming along.

There Will Be No Peeing till 6:OOP

26 February 2010

One of the phenomenons that one’s body must adjust to is that there is no peeing when you are a woman in the field. One has to be careful just how much fluid she takes, lest the need arise. There is simply no peeing or pooing during the day. There are no public toilets and the school toilets I’ve learned from. One simply does not want to expose her freenie to the elements, the flies, the mosquitoes, or the mud. I am amazed at how quickly my body adjusts to only peeing during the night.

Kwihirle is the smallest and farthest school of the 3. A woman who used to run Manyole heads it. The school is desolate, the children are running to school as we arrive at 10:30A. Despite being told we were coming, things appear to be in disarray. The buildings are sparser than any others; classrooms are divided for 2 classes. The lowest of the classes is taught in a hut made of sticks and cow dung.

The entire team arrives, Asuke, Musee (the driver of the van), Ken, Dan, Carol, Maureen, Monica, Francis and myself. We have come to do business. We want to check on the nutrition and take measurements of the children (Dan and Ken), we want to deworm all the children (Carol and Monica) we want to start the reproductive health program (Maureen) and see how the parents are faring with their microfinance (Asuke). It is no small undertaking KMET and OVAAT have undertaken and we are completely underwhelmed with what is going on.

The children receiving the porridge are receiving it in mugs that are used over and over again without any washing. The 5th grade math teacher is a drunkard and a thief and hangs around me wanting sweets and money. The parents look bewildered when Monica starts talking about our comprehensive program and parent cooperation. Muga (thank God) arrives to talk to the parents since Miriam seems totally overwhelmed. It seems that since she met with KMET in January and signed an MOU she has not met with the parents so they had no idea what the programs were or what we were doing.

The only ray of hope seems to be that the people are interested in the micro-finance. 


My heart sank as I had memories of Mabunge. However the team at KMET is more driven for this school to succeed than I could imagine. They seem to love a challenge and I suspect from seeing all they do, that success shall be snatched out of the jaws of defeat.

And so we head back to Kisumu. The rains surround us after the intense heat and the road become mud, the hail crashes, and the clouds clear. I suspect it is a good analogy for all that I do over here. I often come upon a storm and have no idea how I’m going to get through it, but it always clears up and my hope returns. And God said it was good.

Tomorrow I’m taking the day off. I can pee whenever I want and I’m even having a PB and J with some juice. Ah the luxury.

Another Day

Hot hot sweat hot, drip drip, deep wide brown eyes silent children, dust dirt sweat..laughter singing dancing..women old wrinkled, tall bundles on their heads, mama, red purple bright colors on the women..sit sit listen listen sometimes understand..wait wait..roads rutted with mud holes ..clouds sucking up the air..rain crashing on the car..noise noise.. cow dung for menstrual pads..girls waiting listening..parents hoping waiting..will they work with us? Keep going..another school..torn dresses.. dirty feet…mud mud clinging everywhere..pineapples sweet juice dripping..growing changing..hot hot sweat hot, Kenya my love.

There is no way to describe these last two days. I tried, but so much happens in the span of 48 hours that it is impossible to really take you to the schools.  Our partnership in the first 2 schools is going well. Children are being fed, parents are giving over 50%, cooperatives are working and checks were given out at both schools.

 KMET’s programs for the girls from grade 4-8 to help then understand their bodies is led by a merry bouncy woman with an infectious laugh and a confidence that makes me smile. Maureen takes on the tough challenge of teaching sex ed and also helping the girls talk about their menses.  Both Monica and I wretch when we hear what the girls use for menstrual pads.leaves..newspaper…cow dung shoved up their vagina’s and removed at night. The reusable pad will change their lives. Maureen shows them what it looks like and how to use it. The girls are amazed at the pad and all want it. We shall have to get sponsors for the girls. They need the pads, or they miss school and fall behind. How will I get that done? Who will even believe this?

Maureen teaching

Ken and Dan, tall quiet men, patient yet thorough line the children up to take their weights and BMI’s. Then they dewormed all the children. As Monica says it does no good to feed the children if we’re really feeding the worms. They then lecture the parents on nutrition and work with the folks with AIDS to help them understand the importance of the nutri-flour that we have brought.

Asuke takes another group and works with the micro-finance. He is a skinny giant whose smile breaks like the sun after the rain. You fall in love instantly. He is patient and thorough and I see the pride in the people’s face as they hand over their passbooks to be stamped or to receive a small loan. Manyole and Malanga are both doing outstanding work on the microfinance side of things.

We are rained on at the second school. The skies open and we are pelted as we run for cover. the din on the tin roof is spectacular. I do love a good storm. Undaunted,  Maureen got her entire lecture in at a nearby church and the Lioness of Malanga led the micro-finance group off to Asuke. I make an incredibly bad decision and decide to walk from the school to the church after the rain. Wow that was some nasty mud and there was just no getting it off. I thank God for small miracles I didn’t slip in it and settle down to listen.

One of the truly incredible things about African children is their ability to wait and to amuse themselves. After each step, Maureen ducks behind a bench and asks the children to sing. Without missing a beat one girl picks up the call and the others respond singing in a harmonious sweet song that always touches me in the deepest part of my being. So often Americans want to give me toys for the children over here. These loving creatures, who hold hands on the playground (with no equipment) who carry small ones on their backs and never never have I seen a fight break out at the schools. This, dear reader, I suspect you think is an overstatement, but it is not. You shall just have to either take my word or come over here and meet them.

We stumble back to the hotel tired, dirty, happy, optimistic and ready for the third school the next day. Kwihirle is next on the docket.

I must stop here, though. It is time to enjoy this moment. I have been sitting out on the patio of my hotel.  The rains have cleared, the air is sweet, the peepers are peeping, and the rooster crows, and the prayers can be heard from a nearby Mosque.

Swahili reggae is playing over yonder, and it is all good.

Keep the faith y’all.