tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3744878551348585212024-03-05T10:52:25.443-05:00Africa CallingThe journey of two life-long friends as they travel to Tanzania to volunteer and experience the heartbeat of Africa together.Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-54361358611969062612014-11-04T09:28:00.000-05:002014-11-04T09:28:57.192-05:00Play timeJill sent skipping ropes with me last week and the kids loved them. I had to actually pry one out of the hands of one of the directors!<br />
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<br />Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-31114162250669213872014-11-02T15:15:00.001-05:002014-11-02T15:15:27.997-05:00Proud, Loud and Women Power<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Women Power</td></tr>
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Dutifully taught the English and vocabulary lessons to prepare the kids for their usual Friday prep tests - as well as a non-teacher could. The kids blow me away, insisting that I tell them if the word is "continuous present" or "past tense". I am not sure if they detect the beads of stress sweat that trickle down my back as I battle flashbacks of Phonics classes from yesteryear. Didn't like it then - like it even less now. But the kids, intensely clutching their shrinking pencils and hovering over their notebooks want their answers. I tell them how smart they are -- and that even kids who speak English as a first language would find the lesson challenging. They respond with a collective smirk.<br />
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After an hour and a half we took a vocabulary break in which the kids could ask about any words they wanted to learn the meaning of, and or how to spell. The list came fast and furious - aMAZing (they love this word and enthusiastically offered up synonyms -- fantastico? incredible? goodi?) and intimidating. The discussion about intimidating lead to discussing bullying (all tenses of course). They used both words in sentences until I begged for mercy.<br />
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Some of the kids speak so softly I can barely hear them. I am constantly urging them to speak louder. Today I switched to say "speak prouder". I reminded them that God gave them a voice - and to use it. I shared with them that when my girls were little we used to start our day by raising our arms in a cheer of "women power", which prompted Phillipo to ask "what about the men power?" I explained that most men already know they have power and girls have it too, but sometimes it's a secret until they learn how to use it. Cheering helps remind them that they have it too -- and to use it!<br />
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Took a few moments out of their busy day to share a Canada book with them that illustrated some of the animals we had talked about -- polar bears, beavers, moose and Canada geese. They are intrigued by an animal who can chop trees down with its teeth, "Will it kill me Teacher?" "Do you eat them?"<br />
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Oliver walked me over to her new house that is tucked in a laneway behind Good Hope. She was clearly proud of her new home with the indoor toilet and shower but complained that the chickens kept eating the seeds in her garden so -- no garden!<br />
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Later in the afternoon they had to show me that they were using their new found vocabulary. One of the boys had a girl in a playful headlock. "Teacher, she was bullying me with her women power."<br />
"Teacher, he was trying to intimidate me."<br />
"Teacher, you are an AMAZING teacher."<br />
"No I'm not"<br />
"No, but you try hard" "Yes, Teacher, you try your bestest" *smile*<br />
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Gill and I took the dala dala to the town centre for coffee at the Kilimanjaro Coffee House, They say Moshi is small and it was proven today; I ran into our house mate Tanya sitting outside the Naka Mat grocery store. While I was still gushing over that, Jill walked out! I made all the introductions and I couldn't help but be reminded just how similar life in this town can be to the life in a small town I grew up in. Familiar faces every day.<br />
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Dinner was an eclectic mix of samosas, oranges, nuts and cookies -- and wine. We shared it all with our house mates as we sat under the stars, being cooled by the evening breeze.<br />
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And I couldn't help but wonder how it is I could find myself in such a wondrous place. Life is wondrous indeed.<br />
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<br />Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-24973544372253901232014-10-30T17:02:00.002-04:002014-11-02T12:52:09.458-05:00Spice and everything nice - almost<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Music teacher explaining the recording they are about to hear</td></tr>
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After an insomniatic night listening to howling dogs, rooters that didn't know it was the middle of the night and the footsteps of the security guard on the gravel below, I was wondering if I was going to be able to make it through a whole day. My driver Zawadi (Gill's recommendation) picked me up promptly at 9:30 to drive to Good Hope. He is a pleasant man, with a wide permanent smile and kind eyes and gladly shares about his life on the drive in. As he maneuvered the rocky, makeshift roads I asked him if he got alot of flat tires. "No" he grinned, "not since I got new tires". He dropped me by the bank machine on the way in and reluctantly took the 10,000 Tanzanian shillings I offered. "Too much Lyn. But thank you very much". (It wasn't too much!)<br />
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Today was a teaching day -- too, to, two; fast, faster, fastest; past and present tenses. I showed them pictures of fairies, knights and unicorns as promised from the day before. We discussed vocabulary, They told me words they wanted to know and/or how to spell... clever, intimidating, eager, beaver (I can explain)... I noticed Julius sitting clearly off to the side, head hung with what looked to me an angry expression. I kept trying to draw him in and get him to participate but he just shook his head.<br />
During the first break I asked him if he was okay and he didn't respond. I asked him if he was mad and I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and said, "teacher, I am not mad - I am sad. I am sad because my sister is dead". I was dumbstruck and immediately felt foolish for the grief I had given him in class. She had passed away just two days prior. I told him I was so sorry for his loss and pain -- that I knew it must be very hard for him and his family. He simply said that it was and "thank you teacher for your kindness".<br />
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Jill sent me with three skipping ropes and I didn't make it inside without them being plucked. The giggles erupted immediately and the biggest kid of all was Oliver, Good Hope's director. I finally had to scold her into sharing with the kids. :)<br />
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The kids at Good Hope had worked with a music teacher to record a rap song and on this day, they heard it for the first time. The music teacher had Julius stand at the front of the class to perform the rap portion of the song for his classmates. He was incredible. I was blown away by his ability to do that being as shy as he is - not to mention the loss he had just suffered.<br />
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Gill and I took Oliver and Nelson, the local teacher to a local spot for a platter of beans, rice, meat and greens and banana and water melon. It only cost us 2,000 TZS each ($1.40 CAD). I couldn't finish all of the food on the platter and I felt ashamed at the waste.<br />
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Zawadi was uncharacteristically late picking us up --- he had a flat tire! I jinxed him!<br />
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Dinner with our housemates at an authentic ? Thai restaurant was delicious - hot spicy ginger beef -m eaten in the open Tanzanian air with interesting people - doesn't get much better than that.Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-28350204969265267312014-10-29T16:05:00.003-04:002014-10-29T16:05:47.296-04:00A Day of Surprises<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We were too excited for any jet lag to show. We donned our modest clothing - Jill in a skirt and me in my MC Hammer baggy Kili pants (or should I say pantaloons) - and went downstairs to greet the day. We followed the sound of playful chatter to the outdoor dining area where a small group were congregated, partaking in the coffee, tea and toast and eggs. We were somewhat tentative - a little shy, not knowing the lay of the land or the routine. Arriving in a new place in the middle of the night robs you of your bearings - but nothing that isn't solved by a day of wandering and exploring.<br />
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Pleasant surprise! While Jill and I were talking in the hallway, a door opened and Spela appeared - a woman from Slovenia and fellow volunteer from last year. We all cheered exclaiming the coincidence and good fortune. It did seem somewhat serendipitous!<br />
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Had a full day at Good Hope; about ten familiar faces and many new ones including some wonderful young local teachers - Nelson, Scholar and Yvone. Sadly (for me ) there have been changes and only one (Oliver) of the three original founding mamas remain. I did have another surreal but wonderful experience and that was meeting my new virtual friend Gill in the flesh at long last. And from first glance, she was a familiar friend.<br />
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On my first day I mostly observed... a few things had changed in the Tanzania I remembered : a few new pigs crated out back, a new materials room, and new faces. But some things are exactly the same... little Rosie (toddler) roaming the yard; the concrete classroom and well worn blackboard; the spark of hope and resilience the eyes and on the faces of the kids; and the great need and desire for education.Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-81317247409230993142014-10-28T18:01:00.001-04:002014-10-29T10:31:14.878-04:00Safety Net<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snuggled under the mosquito net</td></tr>
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Stepped off the plane into the hot moist air that is Moshi. Jill and I paused on the tarmac, taking it all in, a little overcome with sheer excitement and disbelief at our good fortune to be back on Tanzania soil.<br />
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We had the smiles and good wishes of friendly faces to greet us and drive us to our bed and breakfast. With the power outage all over the neighborhood - not an unusual occurrence - finding our accommodation was not easy.<br />
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We unpacked by candlelight and solar lanterns until the lights came back on and then snuggled under our mosquito nets, drifting to sleep to the chorus of barking dogs and the muffled voices beneath our window.<br />
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Familiarity is a comfort all its own and every bit a safety net as the one I am sleeping under.Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-48132444858726466742014-10-24T19:19:00.000-04:002014-10-25T18:55:46.379-04:00Karibu<br />
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<i><b><span style="font-size: large;">"</span></b>We are all getting so excited to see you next week. Just wanted to officially say welcome.<b><span style="font-size: large;">"</span></b></i></blockquote>
Yup - we're going 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.<br />
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Tanzania is like that; it opens its arms and cradles you; invites and welcomes you; changes you.<br />
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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. 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. We talked it over; debated the reasons to go - and not go. And in the end we couldn't resist.<br />
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Good Hope doesn't need me. But I need Good Hope. I'm going back for a heart-full.<br />
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So thank you Gill for your kind words. We're almost on our way and I can't wait to meet you. I only hope you live up to your virtual Skype version.Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-57292922315620544682014-07-08T22:24:00.000-04:002014-07-08T22:24:21.198-04:00Reaching Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Had an email from Betsy, the volunteer from Chicago who now lives in Moshi. She had some disturbing news. Hamidu's school sponsor suddenly pulled out. I could hear the desperation in her words...<br />
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<i>"I think you all may remember Hamidu, the one who wanted to be a tour guide. Well sadly for some unknown reason his sponsor has decided to drop out leaving Hamidu and his family in a very tough unexpected situation. Hamidu (quiet Hamidu) is just about to finish his 6 month pre-entrance course to Tropical Institute in Arusha this month and then immediately starts his year-long Tour Guide course. I said quiet Hamidu, not anymore, he's blossomed in the last 6 months into a confident young man. </i> </blockquote>
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<i>Can any of you find him a sponsor? Since this is a fast one year course the entire amount of money needs to come now, because there is a school fee payment schedule and there several field trips that happen on "unscheduled" times that need immediate prepayment throughout the year. </i> </blockquote>
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<i>The total cost is 4,630,000, which also includes a mandatory driving course to get a Class C driver's license (mandatory for safari guides) and textbooks."
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The Tanzanian shillings translate roughly into $2800. I don't usually fundraise through my blog but this young man is special to me and I can't stop feeling that I have to do everything I can to help him raise himself out of poverty. He will make it with our help. And I know what you are thinking ... he is only one of many who deserve the same. And you are right. But one is still one.<br />
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If you have an extra $5 you could spare, I would be honoured if you would consider contributing to his educational fund. You can <a href="https://www.ammado.com/nonprofit/141298">donate here</a>, and if you can't, that's okay too. I really don't have a right to ask anything of anyone. If you donate, please also <a href="mailto:good.hopemoshi@gmail.com">send off an email to Good Hope</a> with "Hamidu" in the subject line telling them the amount that you donated to his fund.<br />
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Assante sana!Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-2810299831550546412013-12-04T00:34:00.003-05:002014-01-07T10:38:35.770-05:00Falling<div class="MsoNormal">
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Day 5 <o:p></o:p></div>
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Time is passing by quickly – however each day is slow and
full. <i>Rich.</i> It was my second day at Good Hope and already it feels familiar. I
worked with an 18 year old boy today to help him write about his background and
ambitions in English – something he will need for his application into
vocational school. Hamidu is a bright young man who is desperate to improve his
English, and become a tour guide (two years of school). He caught on quick and
we decided to continue our lessons for the rest of the week so he will be very
prepared. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I spent some time showing Asia, one of the Good Hope directors, how to use Excel. She caught on quickly and soon became enamoured with the power of the tool -- and the range of font colours! The kids are really growing on me with their enthusiasm and curiosity. The classroom is tiny and the chairs are borrowed from the bar next door. When he gets customers, he calls over and a few kids jump up and return their chairs - and the teacher doesn't miss a beat. It is sweltering and uncomfortable inside - yet there is no complaining - except by me as I struggled to make my hair disappear off my neck and control the trickles of sweat rolling down my back.<br />
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The office has a desk planted in the middle of the room - and no chair in sight. Chairs come and go all over the place. As we stand around the table discussing the plans for the day, a chair will suddenly appear behind me with a smiling face urging me to "sit".</div>
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These kids are teaching me much and as I expected, I am taking more than I am leaving. I am falling in love with this magical place and resilient people.<br />
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Director of Education Khadija Salim takes a
Sprite break<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other two directors, Oliver Canada and Asia Ally</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and the inspiring women directors of Good Hope</td></tr>
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Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-68488623085048707062013-12-04T00:01:00.000-05:002013-12-04T09:34:54.728-05:00Hope<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5iCmY3IkyLQ/Up6y6CFd06I/AAAAAAAAGSM/hrnHz8jSfAc/s1600/P1020676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5iCmY3IkyLQ/Up6y6CFd06I/AAAAAAAAGSM/hrnHz8jSfAc/s400/P1020676.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Day 4 November 12, 2013
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The van was almost empty – only me and Phil the army vet
left – as it rolled along the rutted dirt pathway posing for a road and rolled
up to the <a href="http://www.goodhopesupportmoshi.org/">Good Hope Community Support Centre</a>. Catherine, one of the veteran
volunteers (she’s been here for weeks/months), and I are the only two assigned
to the Centre and she clearly knew her way around. She hopped out ahead of me
and starting greeting the children who ran up with open arms and a chorus of “teacher,
teacher!”. I took a look around and
waved goodbye to our driver Daniel and Sarah, our CCS Program Manager. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Where to begin?</i> I
had read that volunteers often feel left to their own devices, and it’s true –
but I had been warned. You have to just jump in and figure it out as you go.
Mama Khadija met me graciously at the door and I felt a little of unease melt away.
We were in the Majengo neighborhood of Moshi, one of the most marginalized in the
community. But the dirt yards were swept and the trash piled and burning on the
side of the road. The children at the centre are aged 13-16; but they appear
younger and smaller than their years. Their smiles are wide and eyes bright as
they quiz the new mzungu – what is your name? How old are you? How many
children do you have? What is your mother’s name? and so on…. When I explain
that my mother died, they put their hands on my arms and in quiet voices tell
me “I am so sorry about your mother".This – from children who are HIV positive
or who have lost one or more parents to AIDS.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They asked me to bring pictures tomorrow and I promised I
would. I accompanied Oliver (one of the trio of founders) on three home visits to sick and ailing people and I couldn’t help
but be moved by the love and empathy from the neighbours. This is a community reaching out to one another, and as Oliver strolls up and down the dusty pathways waving and calling out, she is greeted warmly by all whom she meets.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The school Is conducted in two rooms, each about 10 ft by 12
ft, and each with about 23 children sitting in plastic chairs or on the floor,
notebooks and pencils clutched in their hands. Sometimes they cram 35 children
into the room and the others peer through the window to get their lessons.<br />
<br />
And then of course, there is the outdoor class under a tree with a blackened
piece of wood for a blackboard. There is a community squatter toilet in a
rundown building with a khanga thrown over the door frame for privacy. It is
humble but cleaner that many I experienced in my travels.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I observed and tomorrow I will be teaching. After a
delicious lunch we had a visit from Dr. Martha, a local doctor from the clinic
who discussed health issues facing Tanzanians. She was a noble looking, elderly
lady with the exhaustion and pain of many years etched into her face. She too is on the front lines fighting for her people and the survival and health of her country.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After dinner we made a trip into town to buy khangas. A lady
in the community was killed in an accident and when her father-in-law heard the
news, he also died. Many of the volunteers and the CCS staff left for the
afternoon to attend the funeral, and therefore had to dress traditionally. At
one point there were 19 of us piled into a van build for 13 – dala dala style. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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At first pass you could choose to see poverty; that which seems to be lacking, but it would be tragic. This is a community that struggles and celebrates in unison, supporting<i> </i>one another, in which commitment runs deep, and the mantra "it takes a village" is ever apparent. It is a community rich in relationships and I admit, I am a little envious. But that aside, I choose to be inspired by the love and welcoming spirit that is palpable - or is it hope. Good hope...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cBgsW6DHC1w/Up6zO-FrgUI/AAAAAAAAGSY/wtj08ydvP38/s1600/P1020677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cBgsW6DHC1w/Up6zO-FrgUI/AAAAAAAAGSY/wtj08ydvP38/s400/P1020677.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tOvjso4cwiE/Up61nQzQ6XI/AAAAAAAAGSg/Yer8seo5wuE/s1600/myclass.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tOvjso4cwiE/Up61nQzQ6XI/AAAAAAAAGSg/Yer8seo5wuE/s400/myclass.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My class</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fffKin1KJRA/Up62uiyxfjI/AAAAAAAAGSw/nVZDO1q-1-Q/s1600/cleaning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fffKin1KJRA/Up62uiyxfjI/AAAAAAAAGSw/nVZDO1q-1-Q/s400/cleaning.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First we clean</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1ErTtskqnKE/Up62il4xmVI/AAAAAAAAGSo/TmIJAabDlcM/s1600/jillKhanga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1ErTtskqnKE/Up62il4xmVI/AAAAAAAAGSo/TmIJAabDlcM/s400/jillKhanga.jpg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jill dressed in her khanga to attend the funeral</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-45547113093116009342013-12-03T23:25:00.002-05:002013-12-17T08:29:50.176-05:00Neighbours<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5ysQwlz4uGw/Up6qXWbsu8I/AAAAAAAAGRg/0jhDEckOF8A/s1600/P1020650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5ysQwlz4uGw/Up6qXWbsu8I/AAAAAAAAGRg/0jhDEckOF8A/s400/P1020650.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dennis and his brothers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Day 3 - Karanga</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The duelling dogs and rooster crows almost won out last night
but I finally dosed off before sunrise. I was a little slower today as I donned
my skirt and headed to the outdoor dining hall for our communal breakfast. It
doesn't take long for the contagious energy of the group to fuel me up. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today was all about getting out into and learning about the
community outside the walls of our home base. We were divided into teams and
each assigned a different mission. Ours was to turn left outside the gate and
follow the road to the Eleroi Nursery School, and find out the name of the
teacher as well as the CCS volunteer who would be working there in a few days. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The dirt road that runs outside CCS seems to be carved into
the earth – more pathway than road. And the lushness of the vegetation greets
you, as do the family that lives a stone’s throw across the way. The children smile and wave, calling “jambo” –
competing with the bleating goats and barking dogs. The smoky wood fire aroma
is omnipresent as are the small cooking pots bubbling over the fire in the
yards. As we totted down the laneway lined with banana and coconut trees,
greeting everyone we met (greetings are very important in Tanzania) we searched
in vain for a sign for the school. Of course not only are there no street signs
or names, building signs in this tiny rural neighbourhood are few and far
between. The squeals and laughter of little children was the only sign we
needed. While our team lead went in search of the details we needed for our
assignment, my team mate Katie and I enjoyed the barrage of “karibu’s”
(welcome) and hugs. The experience was reminiscent of Kenya and the love that
had filled my heart there, was obviously to be found here as well. We spent
more than the allotted time with Teacher Luke and the children, listening as
they sang the ABCs and some Swahili folk songs and finally bade them farewell …
Henry, Victor, Laura, Janet, Peter, Dennis, Mary and many more.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
What we learned was that the people in this community are
welcoming and want to share. They are happy to have visitors (including us) any
time, and they are proud to show you their goats, pigs, chickens and how they
live. They smile and nod, shaking your hand, uttering the appropriate Swahili
greeting – and offering assistance when my own words faltered. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After our delicious lunch we finally met with
representatives from our work assignments. Many in the group are serving at
orphanages and schools and have many in their group. It looked as though I was
going to be alone at Good Hope Community Support however I lucked out when I
learned that an experienced volunteer (Catherine) had been serving there for
four weeks. She cautioned me that I will be surprised at how different our
placement is from others – that we will be serving in a slum and amongst three strong
women (Oliver, Khadija and Asia) who started the organization with little resources and a mountain of
resolve. Mama <span style="font-family: tahoma, tahoma-w01-regular, tahoma-w02-regular, tahoma-w10-regular, tahoma-w15--regular, tahoma-w99-regular, sans-serif; font-size: 17px;">Khadija </span>was engaging but shy. She gently reminded me not to fan myself with the bottom of my skirt in front of the boys as it would not be proper. She assured me though, that if I could administer
nothing but love and hugs, it would be enough. I told her I could do that – and
much more.<br />
<br />
I am, after all, a neighbour. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_YtE5Ia22cI/Up6rBZ8YynI/AAAAAAAAGRs/NuYK-LwEae4/s1600/P1020654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_YtE5Ia22cI/Up6rBZ8YynI/AAAAAAAAGRs/NuYK-LwEae4/s400/P1020654.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A typical open air kitchen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FJKgC2rric8/Up6r2mTQPUI/AAAAAAAAGSA/uLXhsfr9aQQ/s1600/P1020664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FJKgC2rric8/Up6r2mTQPUI/AAAAAAAAGSA/uLXhsfr9aQQ/s400/P1020664.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banana groves created our enchanted forest just outside our gates</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xIpMvkgfOWg/Up6rtm3NApI/AAAAAAAAGR0/Ip4M0g8Z-Pk/s1600/P1020660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xIpMvkgfOWg/Up6rtm3NApI/AAAAAAAAGR0/Ip4M0g8Z-Pk/s400/P1020660.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our neighbour Dennis insisted on taking our picture</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-6439139033126483522013-11-12T12:24:00.000-05:002013-12-04T09:30:44.583-05:00Pasha – Warm it up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nXOcDZkAM4Y/Up6hIOMHqBI/AAAAAAAAGQc/gWT7pyGxukg/s1600/P1020585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nXOcDZkAM4Y/Up6hIOMHqBI/AAAAAAAAGQc/gWT7pyGxukg/s320/P1020585.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Sunday, November 10, 2013 Day 2<br />
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The rooster did his job this morning and beat Jill’s phone
to the punch with a cocky wake up call. The first glimpse of a new place is always exciting, no
matter where you are, and this morning was especially so. Jet lag gave way to
curiosity and I was anxious to explore my surroundings by the light of day (as
we had arrived in the dark, late in the evening.). I scrubbed my travel dust off
with a very quick shower – wet then turn water off/lather/ turn water on to rinse. Water conservation is a must!<br />
<br />
Camera in pocket, I strolled around the luscious grounds, kitchen garden and
mango trees soaking up the moist, warm breezes of Karanga (Moshi). Breakfast was served by Primo, our chef (yes that’s his real
name) and although I took a pass on the porridge, I was more than satisfied by
the crepes, eggs, fruit and thick black coffee.
I got creative with the powdered milk offered for the coffee and
borrowed the hot milk intended for the porridge – Tanzanian latte!<br />
<br />
We spent the morning and afternoon getting fully acquainted
with the customs and culture, sitting around in our open air dining hall and in
amongst the mango trees in the garden. Lots to learn and absorb – don’t cross
your legs, only use your right hand for greeting, eating and giving/receiving
gifts. My brain is struggling to remember the all important Swahili greetings
and handshakes. I swear they borrowed one from the Masonic Brotherhood.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mama Fatuma and Mama Sarah are an animated pair, firmly
dispersing important information while exchanging humourous, affectionate barbs
on the side. The staff are simply wonderful
– friendly, gracious and kind – as were the complete strangers whose house I
wandered up to (mistakenly thinking it was our home base) and who invited me to
go on safari with them (they were just getting into their land rover). They
smiled and pointed the way to the road we had missed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Our group of 21 is diverse with 10 from various branches of
the same large corporation; a mother/daughter team, mother/son team, a couple
celebrating their 25<sup>th</sup> anniversary, an Iraqi war veteran (US), and
another pair of feisty older ladies who are great friends - just like Jill and
I. Most of the group is from the U.S. however there is another Canadian in the
group as well as people from Germany (hubby will be happy), Slovenia, Croatia,
Brazil, and Costa Rica. We shared our goals and expectations and they prepared
us for our work assignment (which we start Tuesday). People are all here to explore and experience and that is something to give us
all common cause.<br />
<br />
The air is humid and warm – neither hot nor cool – until the sun comes out and hits you. The climate and landscape appear tropical – not unlike any Caribbean country that I have visited. The sounds that abound – complaining goats, birds squawking and singing, the odd baby crying, and singing coming from somewhere in the distance. The aroma of wood burning mixes with the heavy perfume from tree blossoms… I wonder if I will remember that as the fragrance of Tanzania, that will linger in memories for years to come. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today's take away was a little clapping song they shared with us to keep in mind at our assignment:<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Pasha </i>(warm it up) - get oriented<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Beresha</i> (improve it)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Kanyaga</i> (stomp it) – overcome obstacles<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Busu </i>(kiss) – enjoy the volunteer experience<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Safari is booked with <a href="http://www.pristinetrails.com/">Pristine Trails</a> for next weekend (half the rate quoted
online), and we have already started to bond as a group.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
Internet access is sketchy so I haven't been able to upload my beautiful pictures. Stay tuned.<br />
<br />
<i>Lyn</i></div>
</div>
Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-77455450776770752752013-11-10T10:26:00.002-05:002013-12-04T09:32:33.834-05:00Arrived<div class="MsoNormal">
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsPMCws1tCKTkRnBMO8Bt2jG9YCE5oYYDvEg7arNX-9IgshyHZseJOHAN22WWk2q-F3dc0w8aXP_eh6glNsIRONYb4wY6O0d1lavplTUHrDJD-B7vqNMGnKvop5KDtts4XJl1aJGjQzZD/s1600/P1020572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsPMCws1tCKTkRnBMO8Bt2jG9YCE5oYYDvEg7arNX-9IgshyHZseJOHAN22WWk2q-F3dc0w8aXP_eh6glNsIRONYb4wY6O0d1lavplTUHrDJD-B7vqNMGnKvop5KDtts4XJl1aJGjQzZD/s400/P1020572.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Day 1 November 9, 2013<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Sixteen hours in the air and 22 hours of travel and we
finally arrived in Kilimanjaro, Tanzania. The trace smoky aroma of wood burning
and the warm humid breezes were our welcome as we stepped off the plane onto
the tarmac. I watched Jill’s face and I could tell she shared my feelings of
excitement, and that it was all a little surreal.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time we cleared Immigration (after a meeting with
officials in their office regarding our volunteer CTA stamp that we needed – but couldn’t get – and drove
the forty minutes to our CCS home base, we were all travel weary. We had a warm
welcome from Sarah, our Program Director and a brief orientation – reminder to
not brush your teeth with the tap water – and then we were shown to our rooms.
T<br />
<br />
he home base is a large white adobe-like building with lush gardens. Our room
has two bunk beds and a single but with there only being three of us sharing,
we have the upper bunks for storage. They didn’t have Jill and I in the same
room initially but we agreed we wanted to be together and one of our trip mates
was kind enough to offer to switch. So day one – first night, we popped our
malaria meds, brushed our teeth, climbed under our mosquito nets and fell into
a ragged sleep.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Lyn</i><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S6fk90Zp2Bg/Up6lHKjFrBI/AAAAAAAAGQ8/CS3kF1rwQw8/s1600/P1020575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S6fk90Zp2Bg/Up6lHKjFrBI/AAAAAAAAGQ8/CS3kF1rwQw8/s400/P1020575.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bunk beds - just like camp!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zKbrhhA2Ijw/Up6keU1Ln0I/AAAAAAAAGQw/kv1dVlLgWrE/s1600/P1020576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zKbrhhA2Ijw/Up6keU1Ln0I/AAAAAAAAGQw/kv1dVlLgWrE/s400/P1020576.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Closet space</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dxlhywxyTCc/Up6lJRpHIfI/AAAAAAAAGRE/AkWlO89Fj7c/s1600/P1020590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dxlhywxyTCc/Up6lJRpHIfI/AAAAAAAAGRE/AkWlO89Fj7c/s400/P1020590.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our beautiful home base</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X2Oip__vdEE/Up6nQ2c-jeI/AAAAAAAAGRU/kAqG9ktiljY/s1600/P1020589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X2Oip__vdEE/Up6nQ2c-jeI/AAAAAAAAGRU/kAqG9ktiljY/s400/P1020589.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The outdoor kitchen where Primo worked his magic</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-7924714691372396052013-11-04T22:54:00.000-05:002013-11-04T22:54:01.218-05:00Assigned! <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XtMiyRVdVm4/UnhnBj_hy_I/AAAAAAAAGOY/N5dHzff7PZU/s1600/goodhope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XtMiyRVdVm4/UnhnBj_hy_I/AAAAAAAAGOY/N5dHzff7PZU/s400/goodhope.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy of Good Hope Facebook page</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Finally, the moment I have been waiting for -- getting an email from CCS telling me what my volunteer work assignment will be in Moshi Tanzania. I could barely control the adrenaline rush as I opened the attachment. The CCS team matches your skills and interests with the volunteer needs of the service organizations. I had hoped to work in the HIV/AIDS support group, and my wish was granted.<br />
<br />
I am assigned to the <a href="http://www.goodhopesupportmoshi.org/">Good Hope Support Organization</a> in Moshi. 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 to help them create an empowering life of hope. There are young children and youth in the community who are not able to attend secondary school, and this group also helps provide them with Nursery education and English instruction respectively.<br />
<br />
I am not sure if I will have much to offer but one thing I know for sure, I will take away more than I leave. I have so much to learn. I can't put into words how I am feeling -- my anticipation and excitement is larger than life right now.<br />
<br />
Jill has her own assignment (I'll let her tell you about it) so I can only imagine the exchange we will have in the afternoons. Double the pleasure!<br />
<br />
Hard to believe that in a few short days we will board the plane for Tanzania - and return a few weeks later, changed forever, with the imprint of Africa on our hearts.<br />
<br />
Everything is possible.<br />
<br />
<i>Lyn</i>Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-41093196247857007462013-10-30T23:22:00.001-04:002013-10-30T23:26:53.632-04:00Test RunWith little over a week until we depart for Kilimanjaro, we're down to the short strokes. Preparation is kicking into high gear. Tonight I laid my first <a href="http://onourwaytoafrica.blogspot.ca/p/packing-list.html">"draft" packing list</a> out on my bed to scrutinize the collection. I may whittle it down a little more when it comes time to actually pack it into the suitcase. I went heavy on the tee shirts as it will be hot and humid and with the volunteer placement for the first half and the cultural experiences in the afternoon, I may burn through two a day!<br />
<br />
I picked up my anti malarial meds as well as a back up antibiotic just in case my nasty tooth acts up. I withdrew my American money and scoured each bill to ensure that none were dated prior to 2006. Apparently they aren't widely accepted in Tanzania. I am going to bring the equivalent of $100 dollars in Tanzanian schillings to spend in the village and roadside stalls. And I am considering unlocking my phone so I can buy a SIM card there and use my phone to tether. Have to keep the blog updated!<br />
<br />
Final webinar this week with CCS and the rest of the group who will be volunteering in Tanzania at the same time. Jill and I agreed to learn our key Swahili phrases on the plane over. <i>(I pity the people who sit in front of us).</i> Hopefully then I will actually remember it.<br />
<br />
<i>Note to self: remember to pack some nuts, trail mix and other snacks that won't melt.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Lyn</i>Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-35416259833668582632013-10-24T09:36:00.001-04:002013-10-24T09:52:23.872-04:00Friendship Safari<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tbIeRQ2OpHc/Umkf5nJHIlI/AAAAAAAAGKg/3O3Urr7tpcI/s1600/Jill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tbIeRQ2OpHc/Umkf5nJHIlI/AAAAAAAAGKg/3O3Urr7tpcI/s200/Jill.jpg" width="167" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Let me introduce you to Jill, the other half of the Tanzanian adventure. We will both be posting to this blog so you will get all sorts of perspectives! Lyn</span></i><br />
<br />
There are certain people who seem to come into our lives for a reason, and my friend Lynda is one of them. We met in Grade 6 when I was the shy kid who had just moved from the big city to a small town, and Lynda was the outgoing kid who decided we were going to be friends. Turns out, I hit the friendship jackpot. For more than 40 years Lyn has been my confidante and my guide, blazing a trail that has helped me navigate almost every one of life’s turning points – from driving cars to dating boys, from becoming a mother to losing a mother.<br />
<br />
When Lynda returned from her trip to Kenya a few years ago, I could see that it had a profound impact. She said she would be going back to Africa, and planted the dream that we would make the journey together.<br />
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There’s something about turning 50 that leads you to stop putting things off, and start saying “yes” to the things that really matter. So that was my answer when Lynda decided it was time to make the dream of her return trip to Africa come true, and asked me to be a part of it. (Or maybe it was more like “<i>Yes, but I should tell Walter first, since this will pretty much wipe out the family vacation fund.</i>”)<br />
<br />
Thanks to an incredibly supportive husband and family, I’m now about two weeks away from the journey of a lifetime – a journey I never imagined I’d be making at all, let alone with my treasured friend. I’m nervous, excited, open to possibility. I’m wishing I could remember more words in Swahili. Good thing we have the long flight to Tanzania to brush up on our vocabulary. Perhaps we’ll discover a word to describe a friendship that’s taken us from goofy Grade sixers to where we are today. That is, if we can stop giggling at my hoodie pillow.
<br />
<br />
<i>Jill</i><br />
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Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-32785511589014985842013-10-16T22:55:00.001-04:002013-10-24T09:51:54.096-04:00To DoMy "to do" list is paying off. I finally had my travel clinic appointment last week and got the hazards lecture and the shots I needed - typhoid and a Twinrix booster for Hep A/B. Although the yellow fever vaccination is not required, the shot I got for Kenya three years ago is a little extra insurance. A prescription for the anti-malarials and served up with a reminder to take the meds with lots of food along with a script for Cipro to treat any infections I may get. I am just debating whether or not to bring my own mosquito net.<br />
<br />
And today, to my relief, I received my passport back in the mail with a Tanzanian visa on page 6.<br />
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Things left still "to do" include:<br />
<ul>
<li>get a root canal (no joke)</li>
<li>work on my Swahili!</li>
</ul>
Unataka mimi bahati.<br />
<br />
<i>Lyn</i><br />
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Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-24218702630177992172013-08-13T08:12:00.004-04:002013-10-24T09:51:29.893-04:00Busy TimeAs part of the orientation for volunteers, CCS requires us to participate in a series of three online video conferences. I just completed two of the three with Emma from CCS. There were about eight of us on the video call as she walked us through important information and steps to take to prepare for our volunteer experience. I booked my trip months ago and it has seemed so far off but during the last call, it hit home just how close departure time is and that I basically have about eight or nine weeks to get working on my Swahili.<br />
<br />
Emma emphasized that knowing some basic Swahili phrases would make our experience that much more enjoyable and valuable. As she put it, "it gets exhausting after a day of playing charades". I am going to order some Swahili kids' books to help me with the language.<br />
<br />
My immunizations from Kenya are still valid so I think I'll just need a tetanus shot and some malaria medication.<br />
<br />
Some points she covered in the call:<br />
<ul>
<li>long skirts and covered shoulders for women while at the volunteer assignments</li>
<li>we'll be handwashing our clothes and ironing everything (even undergarments) to kill any mango mealybug eggs (sounds yummy!)</li>
<li>all meals will be authentic Tanzanian cuisine</li>
<li>don't bother with credit cards - cash society so bring US dollars for extra curricular activities (safari) and Tanzanian shillings for local purchases</li>
<li>no alcohol on the home base - zero drug tolerance (duh!)</li>
</ul>
<div>
So it's "busy-time" -- time to get focused on what needs to be done in the next few months to ensure that I am prepared to wring every ounce out of this adventure. In other words, it's getting very real.<br />
<br />
<i>Lyn</i></div>
Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-42670110495231361802013-03-26T20:58:00.000-04:002013-10-24T09:52:15.462-04:00Homework<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dlVydkhssVk/UVI4wtfvcII/AAAAAAAAFmw/5sMIED-8JW0/s1600/volunteer.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dlVydkhssVk/UVI4wtfvcII/AAAAAAAAFmw/5sMIED-8JW0/s400/volunteer.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Couldn't wait to get my volunteer package and today, there it lay on the kitchen table - a bulging cardboard envelope bursting with things inquiring volunteers need to know! It's been my experience that reading up on the culture and country and preparing in advance can really enhance the travel experience. CCS made sure we had lots of reading material ... volunteer information, placement info, participants handbook, luggage tags announcing to the world that I am an international volunteer and an over-sized CCS tee-shirt. No shortage of materials here. Most importantly I need to find myself one of those Swahili language CDs and get some basic phrases nailed down -- "where is the bathroom?", "how much does this cost?", "what is your name?", "can you guess how old I am????".<br />
<br />
So far I am very impressed with CCS and their staff; their experience in organizing these volunteer trips is evident. The support has been exceptional. The website is rich and comprehensive and includes a CCS community page to help us connect with alumni and other volunteers. Haven't found any of my com padres yet but I can't wait to!<br />
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With every little development, movement forward my anticipation grows. And really, isn't that half the joy? It's the journey -- AND the destination.<br />
<br />
<i>Lyn</i>Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-37028545317254536282013-03-17T23:14:00.000-04:002013-10-24T09:50:11.927-04:00ContactI had a call from Katie from Cross Cultural Solutions; she was just checking in to make phone contact. We chatted about Tanzania and what I could expect on my volunteer experience. She reiterated what I knew to be true - that the volunteer experience is simply the setting for a cross cultural exchange. I joked that I hoped any young ones on the trip wouldn't be disappointed to get stuck with a couple of old ladies (Jill and I) and she told me that so far, there isn't anyone under 32 years of age. Not that it matters... but it adds to the excitement to learn more about the profiles of the people we will be sharing our time with.<br />
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<br /></div>
<div>
So hats off to Katie and CCS; it's been a wonderfully positive experience thus far, with Katie providing attentive, professional and personal service. Next step: pay up!<br />
<br />
<i>Lyn</i></div>
Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-91421238330323829332013-03-09T21:13:00.001-05:002013-10-24T09:48:56.106-04:00Booked<br />
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<img height="640" src="http://cdn.seatguru.com/en_US/img/418/seatguru/airlines_new/KLM/KLM_Airbus_A330-300.jpg" width="175" /></div>
<br />
Aisle or window seat? Our flights are booked and our seats, selected. Jill and I connected by phone this phone and went through the process together online. I pulled up <a href="http://www.seatguru.com/">Seat Guru</a> to help us pick the best seats possible. There are so many decisions -- over the wing? (ideal for emergency escapes); how close to the water closets (smallest closets ever); and whether we should sit in the "middle four" or in the "side three". I have visions of my head on Jill's shoulder as a complete stranger drools on mine.<br />
<br />
As we moved through the booking screens, Jill kept reminding me not to look at the price -- "just keep pressing enter". It almost left me groping for Gravol. It's costing a small fortune but the good news is that we're paying for the flights so far in advance that we'll have lots of time to save up in the upcoming months.<br />
<br />
And so it begins.<br />
<br />
Next up: immunization inquiries.<br />
<br />
<i>Lyn</i>Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-3834002718104564942013-02-26T08:21:00.000-05:002013-04-07T10:32:47.427-04:00Africa Part 2: A New Adventure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A new adventure is in the works... a return to Africa, but this time it will be to Tanzania and I will have my forever friend to share it with. Stay tuned as we work out the kinks, get ourselves organized and educated, and prepare for our Tanzanian volunteer trip. I am not exactly sure what to expect but I do know that Africa is under my skin and from the first breath of fresh Kenyan air, I was convinced Africa was the cradle of civilization -- I felt like I had come home.<br />
<br />
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...<br />
<br />
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?"<br />
<br />
We finally had a chance to touch base today after having booked the volunteer part of 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!<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
In the meantime we will have months of planning and anticipation to look forward to. I am beyond excited even though it is months away, however at the risk of wishing my life away, I will anticipate the trip with a measure of restrain (but not really)!Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-80341795605901121662010-08-05T23:16:00.004-04:002013-02-26T08:27:27.140-05:00Community Welcome<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqxovuj7fMs/TFthlMF2N7I/AAAAAAAACGg/MklVi5GwUXc/s1600/222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Elenerai Primary School" border="0" bx="true" height="286" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqxovuj7fMs/TFthlMF2N7I/AAAAAAAACGg/MklVi5GwUXc/s400/222.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
We were an oddly pieced together group who seemed to have an easy bond. Conversation was bubbling constantly, enthusiasm overflowing like foam on a hastily poured beer. It was as though we needed one another for nothing else than to have assurances that we were indeed experiencing something special.<br />
<br />
We loaded into the fleet of Land rovers and headed over to Elenerai Primary School to meet the community. We were reminded that we were considered to be guests by the local people and to conduct ourselves accordingly; refrain from randomly snapping pictures without first establishing a relationship or asking permission.<br />
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As we pulled up we were once again greeted with song. The children were clustered at the entrance and sang through their grins. Each one high-fived us or shook our hand as we passed, and asked us <em>"What is your name?".</em> We walked slowly, navigating the flood of children and the ocean of emotion that was welling, and the joy that was flowing abundantly. Such open, genuine hospitality as I have ever known.<br />
<br />
We sat under a canopy as the welcome continued in a somewhat more "formal" fashion. The whole community turned out - teachers, students, parents, elders and the Me to We youth groupfrom the Bogani tent camp who were there to school build. Each adult stood and introduced themselves, as did we. The children organized in front of us and performed a few songs, clapping and moving their bodies to the rhythm. Then the Mamas took over, singing and clapping as they made their way from the back to the front where we sat, motioning to join them, pulling us up to dance. We sat shyly at first and then one by one we just let go and went with it ... losing ourselves in the moment, in the celebration. <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzDXAtvEAh_xrsoCvR7Bl6Sazgf9ErjFguLKSeu4E7Rnb0axj8xY1K5g0c2abJUo441pUlkJvE71-7joeHtxA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
Cameron's dad was presented with a goat as a gift from the community and suddenly the little herd of goats that wandered the Bogani camp made sense.<br />
<br />
Speeches were eloquently delivered, applause given, and gratitudes exchanged. The sense of community pride was palpable. One of the community elders thanked us for using our precious time to visit his country and to learn more about Kenya. He told us that although they appreciated the work we would do at the school, the real value in us being there was that we would become ambassadors of the Kenya we would soon discover; that we would take our stories and knowledge about their country home to our own countries. He stood tall and erect, his voice strong and words measured. After a pregnant pause and more applause everyone dispersed to play with the children. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqxovuj7fMs/TFt02_ESQ8I/AAAAAAAACGw/iaVTemiKAw8/s1600/227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Elenerai Primary School children" border="0" bx="true" height="160" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqxovuj7fMs/TFt02_ESQ8I/AAAAAAAACGw/iaVTemiKAw8/s200/227.JPG" width="200" /></a>We asked each child their name ... and I was surprised at the number of biblical names. I met at least a dozen little girls named Naomi. They would ask us our names and then repeat them back to us like a chorus. You could tell they enjoyed the sound of some names more than others by their smiles and inflections. Names they liked would be hollered out in sing song voices ending with giggles. Others would simply be repeated in quick monotone response.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqxovuj7fMs/TFt1VHNlh0I/AAAAAAAACG4/eifjh9q8lYM/s1600/228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Elenerai Primary School children" border="0" bx="true" height="267" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lqxovuj7fMs/TFt1VHNlh0I/AAAAAAAACG4/eifjh9q8lYM/s400/228.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Darcy's new friends showing her their new classroom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The children were full of fun and wanted nothing from us other than a picture. They posed willingly, regrouping with different friends and then gathering eagerly around the camera to wait for their image to appear. Then they would ask, <em>"Please - one more. Me only". </em><br />
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The whole time I tried to grasp what I was witnessing and the experience I was partaking in. The first day of our Bogani journey was a long one ... full and emotional. We ended the day with dinner in the dining porch. It was magical. The fires blazing in the fireplace and the chimineas that dotted the perimeter countered the chill of the fresh Mara air and coupled with the vast inky sky - created the perfect atmosphere to decompress. We nursed our wine and Tuskers as we chattered about our day and when it came time to honour the tradition of sharing our highlight of the day, my throat mysteriously tightened and all I could muster was "ditto" to the previous person's remarks. More tears. Honestly -- as someone who prides myself on my iron clad control and restraint, I was completely baffled by my teary responses - and the cause of them. </div>
<br />
Darcy and I donned our headlamps <em>(ha! and she laughed at me when I bought them)</em> to journal as the electricity was only turned on for a few hours each evening and shut off around 10:30. This of course varied according to the World Cup game schedule. Our good intentions to journal were cut short ... the sum total of the day took its toll. We dropped our mosquito nets and snuggled our hot water bottles and succumbed.Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-9557927821596846812010-08-04T23:52:00.006-04:002013-02-26T08:24:40.615-05:00Our Fearless Leaders and Caregivers<div style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
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Our first day at Bogani was a long one - long but satisfying. There was so much "new" to absorb, with little time to do it. After we settled into our new digs, rinsed the Mara dust from our faces and inhaled deeply we relaxed into a delicious lunch served al fresco under the canopy and Mara breezes of our dining porch. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqxovuj7fMs/TFo3884AFYI/AAAAAAAACGI/CepjysJlaBA/s1600/354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" height="256" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lqxovuj7fMs/TFo3884AFYI/AAAAAAAACGI/CepjysJlaBA/s320/354.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kim and Mary</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Before we ate, Kim - one of our facilitators - introduced Mary, who introduced the meal. Through her wide, glistening smile she gave a run down of the delectables about to be served. This was a ritual that was repeated every meal. Isaiah was our waiter and he worked with Mary to pamper us, filling our glasses with fresh juice and our bowls with desserts and fruit salad. He was Maasai and had large holes in his ears with beaded jewelry in them. We were fascinated by them and he laughed when I told him that Darcy had tried to make bigger holes in her ears too. And then there was Flo - a fantastic, beautiful force of positivity who managed Bogani and took care of our every comfort. She shared so much of herself with us and was a big part of the reason we felt so welcomed and at home there.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flo, Darcy and Mary</td></tr>
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The facilitators were great; intelligent warm and accommodating. We started with Emily and Kim in Nairobi. We left Emily behind and met Michelle at Wilson airport for the flight to the Mara. Kim has been involved with Free the Children since she was twelve years old and is now an accomplished speaker and motivator. Michelle and her husband both work for Free the Children and are raising a son in Nairobi. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michelle - photo courtesy of Robin Strachan</td></tr>
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Cameron rounded out the facilitator team - the sole male amongst a pride of courageous lionesses. He was affectionately called Camaroon by everyone we met. Kim and Cameron were especially supportive of and encouraging to Darcy regarding her interest in international development. The staff worked nonstop and had a way of providing a cohesive foundation for the group.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camaroon</td></tr>
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I couldn't end this post without introducing the four Maasai warriors who accompanied us everywhere and shared their knowledge of the wildlife, plants and culture. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;">James, Darcy, Jackson, Lyn & Clinton</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wilson</td></tr>
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Now that everyone has been introduced, you can all come along for the rest of the journey - the next best thing to being there.</div>
Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-8610315950166468952010-07-22T23:56:00.003-04:002013-02-26T08:25:49.449-05:00On the Mara - Jambo Bogani<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Landed on the Mara</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Great Rift Valley</span></em></div>
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We landed in our Cessna on the grassy plains of the Mara. It was like a scene from Out of Africa. Children with wide grins and dogs suddenly appeared out of no where (or so it seemed), racing our plane as it taxied to a stop. It was our first welcome party and as I viewed the scene from the small portal window in the plane, I could feel my eyes filling. The flight had debuted the majestic vistas of the Great Rift Valley, the mountain ranges and the lush green and gold patchwork of the farms and grazing lands below. I was running on emo-overload; Darcy was struggling not to toss her cookies!</div>
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We eagerly accepted the invitation to hike the 15 minutes from the airstrip to the Bogani cottages. I lingered back from the pack, casually snapping pictures as I walked, breathing deeply - filling my lungs with the freshness of the cool air, admiring every plant, tree and curiosity that I saw. I got a personal introduction to the thorny acacia tree while I wasn't looking. <br />
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We walked through the gates of Bogani with more than a little excitement tingling in our tummies. There was a collective feeling of anticipation building which deepened even further when we heart faint strains of what sounded like children singing. It got louder the closer we got, and when we rounded the corner, nothing could have prepared me for what we saw next, and the welcome that awaited us. The Bogani staff were lined up, swaying, singing their hearts out. More tears ...<br />
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I knew we were in for something extra special. We got introduced to the cottage that would be our home for the next five days. And now I will do the same for you ...</div>
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our open air dining hall</span></em></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">The view from the dining hall. </span></em></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><strong>Notes from my journal:</strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Surreal to be here. Everyone feels it. I have to pinch myself to assure that I am indeed in this majestic, magical country. I am more excited than ever for the rest of our journey to unfold. Our group is lively, from different occupations and walks of life, ages - with one thing in common: a desire to learn and understand the Kenyan way of life and the challenges this nation faces. We all want to give back in any way we can. The group is giving, unselfish and generous with one another. It is amazing to me that in a few short days they are feeling like old friends.</span></span></blockquote>
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Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374487855134858521.post-55045279900843338572010-07-20T23:20:00.003-04:002013-02-26T08:24:11.087-05:00Day 1 - Ellies, Giraffes and Beads<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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To ease us into our new time zone and sooth the jet lag somewhat they had us spend a full day in the Nairobi area before we headed out to Bogani. This included visiting <a href="http://www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org/">David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust</a> Elephant Orphanage - our first taste of the African wildlife up close and personal. Many of the ellies were orphaned as a result of poaching and the killing of their parents. The handlers bring the baby ellies out each day for an hour at 11 am so people can watch them feed and then romp and play. The infants love to wrestle with one another, piling into a muddle of reddish skin and dirt. It was mesmerizing to watch the personalities of these playful mini giants emerge so quickly before our eyes. Just when it wasn't surreal enough ... <em>"cue giraffes"</em> two giraffes sauntered gracefully across the backdrop of the whole ellie scene. <em>Pinch me</em>.</div>
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We moved along to the <a href="http://giraffecenter.org/">Giraffe Centre</a> which is dedicated to breeding and preserving the endangered Rothschild giraffe. You can feed the giraffes and if you are feeling a little lonely and don't mind a long tongue, you can even share a big wet kiss with a long necked beauty. </div>
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After lunch our final stop was a visit to the <a href="http://www.kazuri.com/">Kazuri Bead Factory</a>. Kazuri means “small and beautiful” in Swahili and the factory produces hand made ceramic jewellery, beads and tableware. The neat thing about this place is that it started with two Kenyan women and grew to provide sustainable employment for many other single mothers who need regular employment. Kazuri has grown and prospered and now ships their handmade jewellery all over the world. The shop is an explosion of colour and textures and completely lures you in. I found myself loading my basket with a potpourri of shiny beads, necklaces and bracelets - gifts for the girls and women in my life back home. Because it was Sunday, the workers were off however the shop echoed with their vibration, laughter and the positive, handwritten posters taped to the walls told the rest of the story. This was a good place in which dignity resides - a workplace in which the women could access the health clinic; feel proud of their craftsmanship and entertain possibility.</div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">Notes from my journal: </span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ peaceful breakfast on the veranda at Karen Blixen, breathing in the freshness and peace</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ an embarassing encounter with the coffee press</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ getting a piece of branch from a local man to clean my teeth</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ scenic beauty of the National Reserve</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ Tuskers in the bar before dinner</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ dinner with candlelight and Celtic strings</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ stimulating conversation</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ tearful when asked about my personal highlight of the day ... dream come true</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">~ wishing I could share this with hubby</span></div>
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Next stop ... FTC Bogani camp on the Mara.Lynhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15254709835001092835noreply@blogger.com4