I met up with Jessica and our driver, mr. Mohammed. We hopped in a huge van and Jessica told me I wasn't te last one to arrive and we would need to wait 4 hours for Yao to arrive from china, as she got stuck there with a passport issue. By now it's a thousand humid degrees and my stupid ass wore a shirt and jeans. I waited for Jessica to run some errands and continues to sweat bullets in the car and mr. Mohammed tried to teach me Swahili. Once Jessica got back from her secon hour long errand ( remember how I said that everything took longer everywhere else?) we went through stonetown to get some food. Stonetown isn't what I expected it to be. I imagined a little town like Alvera street in LA where people sold a bunch of arts and crafts. Instead it was a bunch of unmarked roads where everyone wasselling things out of little buildings all overthe roads. There werepeople everywhere and I realized quickly that it was only 12 pm and coming from a place where most work 9-5 and the streets are cleared, these people worked all over. Suddenly the thing I had been praying for happened: hot. Rain! It's my favorite kind of weather; the hot tropical rain and I was giddy as we drove through to get food.
We stopped at a small restaurant and Jessica and mr. Mohammed helped me order food. We had a HUGE plate of rice and I ordered some meat that was very good. They cooked it in some curry sauce and with rice it was a huge meal. I forced myself to eat it all, because the "there are children in africa who could be eating that" mantra seemed all too familiar as people wandere the streets without shoes on and ifelt immensely sick afterward. We headed to the bathroom with a real toilet and running water and we found Yao and headed tithe hotel finally.
Now I didn't really know we were staying at a hotel, but was pleasantly surprised that they had running water toilets and showers; all things I was prepared not to have. So we drove about an hour west and headed to the hotel called the Kichanga in something I could only describe as the rainforest. People had huts right on the side of a busy road and were sitting and sleeping in them. The dedregation of the town was so much more than I anticipated in the inlet areas. So much of the inner village area is filled with tiny bushes where people sleep and little huts where they raise their children. It showed me show completely out of touch with the world they were, so it was no wonder they were so uneducated about HIV and AIDS. I am trying to find a way to do a mass public outreach or figure out some way to et to the masses.
As we arrived closer to the hotel we had to go on a huge gravely dirt road for probably 3 miles. I prayed I would e able to see or smell the beach from where I was. Surprisingly the hotel rested on a ledge directly in front of the clearest beach I had ever seen. It looks straight out of a travel magazine or screen saver. We stood in the "lobby" which is an outside community gathering area, and I surveyed the scene. The whole lobby roof was a straw and wood roof. They had large wicker lights hanging from electrical wires all over in a mixed up order, and a bar in the corner made of cement and the ends of multipliers glass beer bottles. There's a lounge type area where they have the comfiest couches ever.
We wandered down a little path with 2 hotel hosts carrying our bags and passed a bunch of little bungalows with straw roofs and wooden windows. The last one down the windy road ended up being mine, the one I share with Jessica and our program leader, Lily. When the door opened I saw a large bed with a canopy that looked like a princess bed and a small bed to the front left of the room that would eventually be mine. It had a net over it as well of course and there was also a bathroom a shower and a little closet.
Not too bad considering I thought I was going to be living in a hut somewhere!
Out on the front patio was a chair and a swinging hammock that would be perfect at night if it weren't for the effing mosquitos. When I arrived I introduced myself to the people in the bungalow next to us who turned out to be Selena and Mary. Then I headed down to the middle group of bungalows to meet everyone else and begin the practice teachings of the materials. We were training to become part of the teaching crew that would go into the community and to schools to teach the material. I was a little bummed out to find out that the orphanage was in Arusha and we wouldn't be going there for a couple weeks, but I soon learned that there were so many children wandering the streets that I would meet, that it all evened out. As long as I was going to teach someone how to protect themselves from HIV And aids then I was happy to be here.
We got assigned to groups to teach lessons and had a Swahili partner to help with translation. My first group was aliviana, steven, kristie and our Swahili partner, Tabit. I knee Aliviana from school, but didn't know anyone else. We planned our lesson, all the while dealing with an immense language barrier between us and Tabit. He is directly from a village instead of Stonetown, where most people speak a little English so he is very slow at grasping what we say. We thought our first presentation would bomb because he could hardly talk to us about what he does and where he lives, let alone the intricate details of HIV and AIDS, but they had to leave and we had our first meal at the Kichanga hotel. I had been wondering what I would be eating and wa pleased to see rice and some kind of tiny little fishes. I'm not sure what they were but it looked a little like anchovy and tasted pretty good. Super salty and delicious.
The only issue here with the food, besides the repetitiveness is the lack of fruits and vegetables. It consists of mostly rice and usually one tiny chunk of meat or fish.
I was excited to head to bed after nearly 20 hours of no sleep so I climed into bed and tucked myself into my malaria net and passed out.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Nairobi 5/23
Once at the airport in london, I knew everything normal to me would be gone and I will e headed for a realm of unknown that I might not be ready for. The flight was semi normal, aside from the " we changed aircrafts and you lost your isle seat" situation. Stuck in the mddle in a 9 hour flight is not fun, but I ha fairly nice company with me. The man to my left was a large Nairobi native and the girl to my right was a Kenyan born texas student who came to visit friends. They were both two of the darkest people I have ever met before and we ended up looking like a real life Oreo cookie, which they though was funny when I told them that.
Once the flight was over I was officially in Africa. I stepped off the plane and was engulfed with this intense heat that surrounded the airport. This airport was the strangest one I had ever seen. It was small, dark, and filled with people who looked as confused as I felt. The only stores in the place were duty-free ones and no restaurants. After dealing with making sure my bag would be on the Zanzibar flight at 8 am, u waited in another slow, slow line to get my airport tranfer flight ticket and aske where the hell I could go to sleep or sit since there were no chairs near the gates and only a few sporadically assigned all over.
The teller told me they had a sleep and shower area downstairs and I was more than happy to find it. Once I got downstairs there was a tiny room with 10 or so little shady storage unit looking type things and a man at the front who greeted me and told me sleep rooms for 4-8 hours would be 42 US dollars. I immediately obliged and headed for the room. The room was so tiny and had a ceiling you could see through to upstairs that kept tapping and humming but the bed was super comfortable and I quickly passed out. The next morning I woke up really early and decided to take a shower. I still am not sure if they just don't have hot water there or what but it was the coldest shower I've ever taken. It pumped me up for the day though as I found a littlestand were I promptly bought some bottled water and yogurt.
The gate situation at the airport is really crazy. You have the security check point at the right of the gate, but then to get to the planethey have you walk down the runway a couple blocks to the tiniest plane I had ever seen in real life. I was a little nervous but me and my closest zanzibarians, all 48 of them, wandered on the plane and hoped for the best. The flight wasn't too bad.
It was really short compared to the others and they served us a continental breakfast which I wasn't expecting. Pretty soon after getting to see Mt. Kilamanjaro up close and a whole look at the gorgeous island of Zanzibar we landed an I was practically running off the plane. The minute I stepped off, a wave of heat and humidity hit me and it immediately smelled like Florida to me. I threw off my sweatshirt and ran inside. Once I had filled out my visa stuff and shelled out 100 dollars, I was headed to pick up my bag.
Thank god it was there. Then I wandered out the back door and was immediately greeted by Jessica of one heart source. That was it! I was finally here.
Once the flight was over I was officially in Africa. I stepped off the plane and was engulfed with this intense heat that surrounded the airport. This airport was the strangest one I had ever seen. It was small, dark, and filled with people who looked as confused as I felt. The only stores in the place were duty-free ones and no restaurants. After dealing with making sure my bag would be on the Zanzibar flight at 8 am, u waited in another slow, slow line to get my airport tranfer flight ticket and aske where the hell I could go to sleep or sit since there were no chairs near the gates and only a few sporadically assigned all over.
The teller told me they had a sleep and shower area downstairs and I was more than happy to find it. Once I got downstairs there was a tiny room with 10 or so little shady storage unit looking type things and a man at the front who greeted me and told me sleep rooms for 4-8 hours would be 42 US dollars. I immediately obliged and headed for the room. The room was so tiny and had a ceiling you could see through to upstairs that kept tapping and humming but the bed was super comfortable and I quickly passed out. The next morning I woke up really early and decided to take a shower. I still am not sure if they just don't have hot water there or what but it was the coldest shower I've ever taken. It pumped me up for the day though as I found a littlestand were I promptly bought some bottled water and yogurt.
The gate situation at the airport is really crazy. You have the security check point at the right of the gate, but then to get to the planethey have you walk down the runway a couple blocks to the tiniest plane I had ever seen in real life. I was a little nervous but me and my closest zanzibarians, all 48 of them, wandered on the plane and hoped for the best. The flight wasn't too bad.
It was really short compared to the others and they served us a continental breakfast which I wasn't expecting. Pretty soon after getting to see Mt. Kilamanjaro up close and a whole look at the gorgeous island of Zanzibar we landed an I was practically running off the plane. The minute I stepped off, a wave of heat and humidity hit me and it immediately smelled like Florida to me. I threw off my sweatshirt and ran inside. Once I had filled out my visa stuff and shelled out 100 dollars, I was headed to pick up my bag.
Thank god it was there. Then I wandered out the back door and was immediately greeted by Jessica of one heart source. That was it! I was finally here.
Cheer-e-oh!
Getting off the plane to London was one of the weirdest experiences I've had so far. Hopping off the plane, I imagined a cloudy, dreary town filled with pubs and British folks surrounding me. Let's just say that when I hopped off the plane I didn't exactly see my vision. Instead, every person I saw was indian and the sky was hot and bright. From the moment I walked through the terminal I though I had just taken a 10 hour flight and landed back in LA only the drivers all had long white license plates and were driving on the wrong side of the road. I was so excited out of the airport and meet my friends in town especially since my flight was an hour delayed. By once I carefully crosses the street and waited for the bus to take me literally less than a mile to my hotel, we got there a ridiculous hour later. I realized that everything moves much more slowly in Europe. The reception hosts at the hotel, the waiters, the drivers, everyone. Once I finally reached my hotel room, I walked into a typical looking room. One thing that was strange, though, was that they had no alarm clock or any clock at all, which doesn't help a jet lagged traveler with her time keeping. I figured out a way to keep my iPhone juiced up enough to tell time with it ( thank you World Clock!) and showered and headed on my one day London adventure.
I hopped ona bus after a couple missteps and Indian drivers giving me the " stupid american" look, and headed to the subway, or as Europeans call it, the tube. After staring at a map for a good hour, I finally tried to make my way to central London hoping Id find inspiration once I got there. It turns out my trip on the tubes lasted much longer thAn I anticipated. Getting lost, losing track and many mistakes later, I wound up getting off at the Waterloo station and made my way to the London eye around 5;45. Hoping I hadn't missed a chance to go on the riverboat cruise and the London eye, I stood in line at 6:15 and hoped Id make it to the boarding of the6:45 riverboat cruise and suceeded with seconds to spare.
The cruise took us up Thames and I got to see Big Ben, The London Bridge, and much more. Just as we exited the tour, I got in a huge touristy line for the London eye and had to make myself understand that I was in fact the tourist and not running the operation, which, coming from my background at universal was a daunting task. Once on the ride, we flew high above in the sky and watched the world raise up and I could see all of London. I did it right at susnet, which was super sad for the lonely American tourist. Once we landed and I was missing my boyfriend, it got colder and I had a decision to make. Try to find a pub and Caitlin when I couldn't get her on the phone or make my way back to the hotel for a drink and eat at the bar. I chose the second option which proved to be best because I got all kinds of lost on the way home. After getting on the tube around 8-ish, for a half hour tube ride and a half hour bus ride normally, I didn't manage to get back to the hotel until 10:30 pm. I had missed the dinner hour at the restaurant ( and hadn't eaten since the plane ride) so I opted to take a seat at the bar and prayed they had fish and chips. To my surprise they did and it was amazing! Best fish and chips I have ever had, topped off with a Newcastle night cap and off to bed. All in all a long but wonderful day.
I decided to retire to my room to get some sleep that was much needed and forgot to reset my phone to london time. Instead, I placed an alarm for 6:00pm and hoped it would work. When I awoke in the middle of the night and looked at my phone, I panicked thinking I was laste for the airport as it said 6;45. I hurried in the shower and packed super fast only to find out that 1. It was still dark out, 2. There were still people sitting at the bar I could see below my hotel room window and 3. I had set a wake up call that obviously hadn't happened.
As I looked out my window to the bar I noticed a bunch of drunk guys pushing eachother around playfully. I continued to look out the window partially in pure boredom, and part interest I'm watching drunk guys when one of them rolled on his back, pulled down his pants and showed everyone he was with, and subsequently, me, his ass. He then stuck his fingers in between his cheeks and I immediately looked away for fear of what else Id see. I went to sleep promptly after that out of terror and the fact that I would be on another excrutiatingly long plane ride in 4 hours.
I hopped ona bus after a couple missteps and Indian drivers giving me the " stupid american" look, and headed to the subway, or as Europeans call it, the tube. After staring at a map for a good hour, I finally tried to make my way to central London hoping Id find inspiration once I got there. It turns out my trip on the tubes lasted much longer thAn I anticipated. Getting lost, losing track and many mistakes later, I wound up getting off at the Waterloo station and made my way to the London eye around 5;45. Hoping I hadn't missed a chance to go on the riverboat cruise and the London eye, I stood in line at 6:15 and hoped Id make it to the boarding of the6:45 riverboat cruise and suceeded with seconds to spare.
The cruise took us up Thames and I got to see Big Ben, The London Bridge, and much more. Just as we exited the tour, I got in a huge touristy line for the London eye and had to make myself understand that I was in fact the tourist and not running the operation, which, coming from my background at universal was a daunting task. Once on the ride, we flew high above in the sky and watched the world raise up and I could see all of London. I did it right at susnet, which was super sad for the lonely American tourist. Once we landed and I was missing my boyfriend, it got colder and I had a decision to make. Try to find a pub and Caitlin when I couldn't get her on the phone or make my way back to the hotel for a drink and eat at the bar. I chose the second option which proved to be best because I got all kinds of lost on the way home. After getting on the tube around 8-ish, for a half hour tube ride and a half hour bus ride normally, I didn't manage to get back to the hotel until 10:30 pm. I had missed the dinner hour at the restaurant ( and hadn't eaten since the plane ride) so I opted to take a seat at the bar and prayed they had fish and chips. To my surprise they did and it was amazing! Best fish and chips I have ever had, topped off with a Newcastle night cap and off to bed. All in all a long but wonderful day.
I decided to retire to my room to get some sleep that was much needed and forgot to reset my phone to london time. Instead, I placed an alarm for 6:00pm and hoped it would work. When I awoke in the middle of the night and looked at my phone, I panicked thinking I was laste for the airport as it said 6;45. I hurried in the shower and packed super fast only to find out that 1. It was still dark out, 2. There were still people sitting at the bar I could see below my hotel room window and 3. I had set a wake up call that obviously hadn't happened.
As I looked out my window to the bar I noticed a bunch of drunk guys pushing eachother around playfully. I continued to look out the window partially in pure boredom, and part interest I'm watching drunk guys when one of them rolled on his back, pulled down his pants and showed everyone he was with, and subsequently, me, his ass. He then stuck his fingers in between his cheeks and I immediately looked away for fear of what else Id see. I went to sleep promptly after that out of terror and the fact that I would be on another excrutiatingly long plane ride in 4 hours.
London bound 5/21
I have never flown internationally before.
I mean, the only time I've been out of the country was on a cruise to mexico, but I could have just driven across a border where we went. I figured the airport process would be different than a regular ID, ticket, baggage check scenario. Replace the Id for the passport and it was relatively smooth sailing. The international side of the airport was significantly different at lax than I imagined. After a couple wrong turns, I made it to the gate and huddled next to the samsung charging port to get the last bit of juice into my e-reader and iPhone.
I feel like I could write a book about the airport.
It's always filled with the most interesting people and circumstances that you can't seem to escape from the get-go at the terminal. There's always room to eavesdrop on wonderful conversation gems, get dragged Into ridiculous conversations an find relatively charming things to watch. There are, of course, insane annoyances that seem to blow the charming parts of being stuck in a metal bullet with your closest few hundred strangers right out of the water so that they are soon pushed out of memory like a good ear wax cleaning. Of course, I just got safely seated on the plane and already have a laundry list of annoyances so far:
1. Once huddled in my little corner, I realized that there were a significant amour of children running around who all seem to be from the same indian family. Normally I am pretty tolerant of children from any ethnicity but from the murderous screams of a child not wanting to leave her father in the states I knew I was in for trouble.
I pulled out my e-reader, completely content with spending the one hour delay indulging in a little Chelsea Handler reading, when all of the sudden the charging station, which was a little shelf that trusting chargers would leave their phones on to charge, begins to rattle in a very common drum beat. Rat-tat-tat. Tat-tat-tat-tattat. Over and over. I had taken off my glasses to read and instinctively looked over my shoulder an I couldn't see anything but a dark blob in a red shirt pounding on the shelf.
Annoyance number 1 already got to me so I grabbed my glasses, slip them on and peered back over my shoulder with a glare, only to find an adolescent indian boy who had no desire to stop drumming.
2. I love a friendly group of travelers as much as the next guy, but the group who decided to sit next to me while waiting for the flight definitely secured the spot of annoyance number 2. The ground of 4 pairs of couples in their fifties sat down quietly at first, but it wasn't until another group of couples sat in front of them that they began to groan in a comedic fashion an do the annoying one liners like," how'd they let you through security?" and "I hope you guys aren't sitting near me in the plane!" thoughthey were clearly friends.
Of course when boarding the plane I get annoyance 3. Everyone know the most annoying people inthe world are tv fanatics. And sadly to say I feel the most irritating fans are LOST fans because anyone else ho doesn't watch the show cares about who Hurley is and how they got off the island. As I stood in the line to get on the plane, who lands behind me but LOST'S number one fan and her best friend who didn't catch this weeks episode. I kid you not, every question was " tell me everything that happened. " and then, " well why?"
I mean, the only time I've been out of the country was on a cruise to mexico, but I could have just driven across a border where we went. I figured the airport process would be different than a regular ID, ticket, baggage check scenario. Replace the Id for the passport and it was relatively smooth sailing. The international side of the airport was significantly different at lax than I imagined. After a couple wrong turns, I made it to the gate and huddled next to the samsung charging port to get the last bit of juice into my e-reader and iPhone.
I feel like I could write a book about the airport.
It's always filled with the most interesting people and circumstances that you can't seem to escape from the get-go at the terminal. There's always room to eavesdrop on wonderful conversation gems, get dragged Into ridiculous conversations an find relatively charming things to watch. There are, of course, insane annoyances that seem to blow the charming parts of being stuck in a metal bullet with your closest few hundred strangers right out of the water so that they are soon pushed out of memory like a good ear wax cleaning. Of course, I just got safely seated on the plane and already have a laundry list of annoyances so far:
1. Once huddled in my little corner, I realized that there were a significant amour of children running around who all seem to be from the same indian family. Normally I am pretty tolerant of children from any ethnicity but from the murderous screams of a child not wanting to leave her father in the states I knew I was in for trouble.
I pulled out my e-reader, completely content with spending the one hour delay indulging in a little Chelsea Handler reading, when all of the sudden the charging station, which was a little shelf that trusting chargers would leave their phones on to charge, begins to rattle in a very common drum beat. Rat-tat-tat. Tat-tat-tat-tattat. Over and over. I had taken off my glasses to read and instinctively looked over my shoulder an I couldn't see anything but a dark blob in a red shirt pounding on the shelf.
Annoyance number 1 already got to me so I grabbed my glasses, slip them on and peered back over my shoulder with a glare, only to find an adolescent indian boy who had no desire to stop drumming.
2. I love a friendly group of travelers as much as the next guy, but the group who decided to sit next to me while waiting for the flight definitely secured the spot of annoyance number 2. The ground of 4 pairs of couples in their fifties sat down quietly at first, but it wasn't until another group of couples sat in front of them that they began to groan in a comedic fashion an do the annoying one liners like," how'd they let you through security?" and "I hope you guys aren't sitting near me in the plane!" thoughthey were clearly friends.
Of course when boarding the plane I get annoyance 3. Everyone know the most annoying people inthe world are tv fanatics. And sadly to say I feel the most irritating fans are LOST fans because anyone else ho doesn't watch the show cares about who Hurley is and how they got off the island. As I stood in the line to get on the plane, who lands behind me but LOST'S number one fan and her best friend who didn't catch this weeks episode. I kid you not, every question was " tell me everything that happened. " and then, " well why?"
Friday, May 21, 2010
``Discovering the Cost of Love
Here are some videos that will help you all try to understand the terrible effects AIDS has on the people of Tanzania and all around Africa. I'll quote a couple of really important lines but they're all pretty short and important to watch.
"You know, for us elderly rural people we aren't aware of what's going on. We look after our sick and pray to God."
"It is better if I died and they stayed with their children. But they all died, and I stay with the children. And I have little strength left."
"My name is Fulgenzia Mpelembwa. I had eight kids. Seven of them died."
Fulgenzia is 70 years old, and is stuck farming and doing extreme manual labor with her grandchildren to make a living, since all of their parents fell victim to AIDS.
This is the issue that is so sensitive and important to all the people who live where I'm going, and as the woman in the first video mentioned, they are relatively uneducated about how to protect themselves and their loved ones.
"You know, for us elderly rural people we aren't aware of what's going on. We look after our sick and pray to God."
"It is better if I died and they stayed with their children. But they all died, and I stay with the children. And I have little strength left."
"My name is Fulgenzia Mpelembwa. I had eight kids. Seven of them died."
Fulgenzia is 70 years old, and is stuck farming and doing extreme manual labor with her grandchildren to make a living, since all of their parents fell victim to AIDS.
This is the issue that is so sensitive and important to all the people who live where I'm going, and as the woman in the first video mentioned, they are relatively uneducated about how to protect themselves and their loved ones.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
`` All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go.
All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
Tonight was relatively normal.
I did some work, watched a little television (mainly Modern Family's season finale and then the rest was background noise), did a little light reading, and headed into my bathroom to the teeth brushing, face washing rituals that round out my evening. Slightly hopping toward my refrigerator, I grab a bottle of water and slip into my room and close the door, turning on my light.
Seems normal, right?
But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
The taxi's waitin', he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die
Turning around to take a look at the disaster that was my room, I realized this may be one of the last 'normal' nights I have in quite a while. Strewn about where t-shirts, and shoes, and boxes of things I didn't even know I still had in my possession. Everything I do know is in a large rolling backpack of sorts. I went over and over the checklist of things to bring probably one thousand times today with a fine-toothed comb (Speaking of which, I could probably have used one of tho---uh. Nevermind). So, from the looks of it it looks like I am ready to go. I am ready to head to Zanzibar.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Well, that may just be from the looks of it. As I slid out of my clothes and climbed into my plush-filled memory foam mattress and readjusted the non-made bedsheets, I realized that I had already packed my "I'm sleeping without my heater of a boyfriend" blanket in my bag, and that I would just need to make due for the evening. With no blanket and no boyfriend it may be a task, but I've got a closed window and an optimistic look at sleep tonight.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
The lack of warmth is not the only thing keeping me awake this evening, though. I've packed, I've prepared, and everything has come in the mail that I needed for the trip. So everything is done. But now I've got this overwhelming sense of anxiousness that comes with taking an unknown trip independently. I have so many questions that I really don't have the answers to.
Did I overpack?
How many books should I bring to read?
Is the 8 hour layover at Nairobi airport in the middle of the night going to be dangerous?
Is ANYONE getting my emails that I keep sending to Zanzibar?
How Muslim are the people I will be living with?
Will the fact that I'm American be a problem for them?
How am I going to know when they are picking me up from the airport?
WHO is picking me up from the airport?
Is my swahili any good?
Why does my suitcase all of the sudden look huge?
Will the kids like me?
How many of these kids will actually have AIDS?
What the HELL am I going to do in London all day?
'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go
Basically, all the questions I could ever ask are running through my head. I can't really talk to anyone about it, because no one really gets what I am doing. No one that I have relied on to deal with many trying things in my life understands what packing up and leaving to a place with hardly any internet let alone electricity, toilets, and bedrooms would be like. So, naturally, as I walk into my cushy (albeit messy) bedroom, turn on a light, crawl into bed with my laptop and bottled water and begin to type, I can't help but think that in a few days none of this will be possible until the end of June.
Now the time has come to leave you
One more time, oh, let me kiss you
And close your eyes and I'll be on my way
It's liberating, in a way. To not feel constrained to the world of social connection to the United States. To only be connected to those you are in front of. To learn from others what you never knew about yourself. That's why I'm doing it, afterall. To learn about others, to learn about myself, and to help preserve the right for everyone to have that opportunity without a preventable illness getting in their way.
Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone
About the times that I won't have to say ...
So, yes. In about 40 or so hours I will be leaving on ajet plane commercial airplane, and I don't do know when I'll be back again, and I am so, so ready to go.
I think.
(Obviously John Denver's version of this song is the best, regardless of the hokey video that comes with it.)
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
Tonight was relatively normal.
I did some work, watched a little television (mainly Modern Family's season finale and then the rest was background noise), did a little light reading, and headed into my bathroom to the teeth brushing, face washing rituals that round out my evening. Slightly hopping toward my refrigerator, I grab a bottle of water and slip into my room and close the door, turning on my light.
Seems normal, right?
But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
The taxi's waitin', he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die
Turning around to take a look at the disaster that was my room, I realized this may be one of the last 'normal' nights I have in quite a while. Strewn about where t-shirts, and shoes, and boxes of things I didn't even know I still had in my possession. Everything I do know is in a large rolling backpack of sorts. I went over and over the checklist of things to bring probably one thousand times today with a fine-toothed comb (Speaking of which, I could probably have used one of tho---uh. Nevermind). So, from the looks of it it looks like I am ready to go. I am ready to head to Zanzibar.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Well, that may just be from the looks of it. As I slid out of my clothes and climbed into my plush-filled memory foam mattress and readjusted the non-made bedsheets, I realized that I had already packed my "I'm sleeping without my heater of a boyfriend" blanket in my bag, and that I would just need to make due for the evening. With no blanket and no boyfriend it may be a task, but I've got a closed window and an optimistic look at sleep tonight.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
The lack of warmth is not the only thing keeping me awake this evening, though. I've packed, I've prepared, and everything has come in the mail that I needed for the trip. So everything is done. But now I've got this overwhelming sense of anxiousness that comes with taking an unknown trip independently. I have so many questions that I really don't have the answers to.
Did I overpack?
How many books should I bring to read?
Is the 8 hour layover at Nairobi airport in the middle of the night going to be dangerous?
Is ANYONE getting my emails that I keep sending to Zanzibar?
How Muslim are the people I will be living with?
Will the fact that I'm American be a problem for them?
How am I going to know when they are picking me up from the airport?
WHO is picking me up from the airport?
Is my swahili any good?
Why does my suitcase all of the sudden look huge?
Will the kids like me?
How many of these kids will actually have AIDS?
What the HELL am I going to do in London all day?
'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go
Basically, all the questions I could ever ask are running through my head. I can't really talk to anyone about it, because no one really gets what I am doing. No one that I have relied on to deal with many trying things in my life understands what packing up and leaving to a place with hardly any internet let alone electricity, toilets, and bedrooms would be like. So, naturally, as I walk into my cushy (albeit messy) bedroom, turn on a light, crawl into bed with my laptop and bottled water and begin to type, I can't help but think that in a few days none of this will be possible until the end of June.
Now the time has come to leave you
One more time, oh, let me kiss you
And close your eyes and I'll be on my way
It's liberating, in a way. To not feel constrained to the world of social connection to the United States. To only be connected to those you are in front of. To learn from others what you never knew about yourself. That's why I'm doing it, afterall. To learn about others, to learn about myself, and to help preserve the right for everyone to have that opportunity without a preventable illness getting in their way.
Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone
About the times that I won't have to say ...
So, yes. In about 40 or so hours I will be leaving on a
I think.
(Obviously John Denver's version of this song is the best, regardless of the hokey video that comes with it.)
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
``More Zanzibar information
Hujambo! (That means, "GREETINGS!" in Swahili!)
I hope you are all doing amazingly well. I am writing to you about something near and dear to my heart, and something I am really excited about being a part of, and I'm hoping you will share my excitement about what I am about to experience.
Next week, for about one month, I will be traveling to Zanzibar, Africa with One Heart Source; an organization whose mission is to fight AIDS and HIV in Africa.
For most who visit this tropical island off the coast of mainland Tanzania, Zanzibar is a tourist haven and hideaway. However the true statistics behind the veil are staggering;
* 23% of primary school age children ages 7 to 13 have not been enrolled in school. Most unenrolled children are from rural poor families and are more likely girls.
* The prevalence of HIV/AIDS has not been contained. Stigma surrounding HIV and AIDS is high at 76%, with 44% of women and 20% of men with comprehensive and correct knowledge on HIV/AIDS. This is a significant barrier that needs to be overcome as education is still currently the only vaccine. (TDHS 2007/08)
I, along with the rest of the OHS volunteers, will be traveling to Zanzibar and working exclusively with an orphanage there to teach children about the diseases they are facing and how to prevent them. This is something incredibly important to me and the people involved with OHS, and I am really excited to be able to make this step to help with the HIV and AIDS awareness.
Since One Heart Source is a non-profit, non-governmental organization and I am volunteering for this opportunity, the cost of my program fee and airfare must be met through my fundraising efforts and the generous donations from my friends and family. THIS IS WHERE YOU COME IN!
If this issue is an important one for you, or even if you'd like to just see me live my dream and feel that you can donate ANYTHING... One dollar, ten dollars... I mean it. Anything. I would be forever indebted to you for the generosity and help. ALL donations are TAX DEDUCTIBLE under section 501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code.
You may help me as my sponsor (and as a ROCK STAR in my book) by logging into paypal and sending over a wired amount, that will go straight to One Heart Source at:
Because it is coming up pretty soon, I only have about a WEEK of fundraising left. I am so appreciative to everyone that has stepped up with whatever they could to get me to my dream summer volunteer job.
Once again, thank you for listening to my dream. If you have any other questions or just want to talk about what I'd be doing there, feel free to contact me or visit the website at:
www.oneheartsource.org
With all the love I've got,
Shannon McHugh
I hope you are all doing amazingly well. I am writing to you about something near and dear to my heart, and something I am really excited about being a part of, and I'm hoping you will share my excitement about what I am about to experience.
Next week, for about one month, I will be traveling to Zanzibar, Africa with One Heart Source; an organization whose mission is to fight AIDS and HIV in Africa.
For most who visit this tropical island off the coast of mainland Tanzania, Zanzibar is a tourist haven and hideaway. However the true statistics behind the veil are staggering;
* 23% of primary school age children ages 7 to 13 have not been enrolled in school. Most unenrolled children are from rural poor families and are more likely girls.
* The prevalence of HIV/AIDS has not been contained. Stigma surrounding HIV and AIDS is high at 76%, with 44% of women and 20% of men with comprehensive and correct knowledge on HIV/AIDS. This is a significant barrier that needs to be overcome as education is still currently the only vaccine. (TDHS 2007/08)
I, along with the rest of the OHS volunteers, will be traveling to Zanzibar and working exclusively with an orphanage there to teach children about the diseases they are facing and how to prevent them. This is something incredibly important to me and the people involved with OHS, and I am really excited to be able to make this step to help with the HIV and AIDS awareness.
Since One Heart Source is a non-profit, non-governmental organization and I am volunteering for this opportunity, the cost of my program fee and airfare must be met through my fundraising efforts and the generous donations from my friends and family. THIS IS WHERE YOU COME IN!
If this issue is an important one for you, or even if you'd like to just see me live my dream and feel that you can donate ANYTHING... One dollar, ten dollars... I mean it. Anything. I would be forever indebted to you for the generosity and help. ALL donations are TAX DEDUCTIBLE under section 501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code.
You may help me as my sponsor (and as a ROCK STAR in my book) by logging into paypal and sending over a wired amount, that will go straight to One Heart Source at:
Because it is coming up pretty soon, I only have about a WEEK of fundraising left. I am so appreciative to everyone that has stepped up with whatever they could to get me to my dream summer volunteer job.
Once again, thank you for listening to my dream. If you have any other questions or just want to talk about what I'd be doing there, feel free to contact me or visit the website at:
www.oneheartsource.org
With all the love I've got,
Shannon McHugh
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
``Siwezi kusema Kiswahili
In a few weeks my life will change forever.
I will be packed, excited, scared, nervous, and semi-ready to embark on a journey that I never really thought was real until this weekend when I put in the last of my money for the trip.
Africa has been calling my name softly for years. The continent, it's people, the severity of their life circumstances; all of it has always been something incredibly interesting to me, and I have always wanted to witness all of it first hand and do my best to help as many people as possible in the process. I have always felt that I needed to do something to help out the poverty-stricken and AIDS infested countries of Africa, but never really knew how to do it. Sure, I could give money to the Red Cross and hope it gets where I really want it to go (and by that I mean I want it to magically turn into food, clothing and toys and be deposited directly into the stomachs, onto the bodies, and in the hands of children who are struggling to survive), but I have never really felt the pull to do that. As much as I can dream that my hundreds of dollars WOULD go where it is supposed to go, I know how the government works in other countries, particularly in poorer countries like some of the ones in Africa, and I know how businesses in the states behave with charitable donations. My goal has been to take the money that I would have sent to an organization and go to the heart of the issues at hand and use it to do some good. I want to make as much good as I can with my limited funds and resources.
I can't explain how I feel about the issue of children being left to starve, become uneducated, and basically left on their own at 5, 6, 7 years of age. I can't describe how upset it makes me that these children lose their parents, grandparents, and other loved ones to a disease that, with proper control and self-help practices, can be controlled. Although there is still no cure for AIDS or HIV, the ability to combat it before it starts is so important and the people of these countries JUST don't know how to do it. That fact upsets me to no alleviation.
That's been on the back burner of my mind for years and years, and I have always felt the pull to one day experience the culture and find out a way to help. That's when One Heart Source (www.oneheartsource.org) came into my life. After a simple suggestion email from my adviser, I applied for a program that was designed specifically to work with children of an orphanage and teach them about the implications of HIV and the AIDS virus' and how to combat them before they start. After an application process and an interview, I was in. I was in so fast that my head began to reel at the thought of actually being able to go to Africa. It was slowly becoming some idealistic dream turned reality, and I never thought it would be a reality.
I began to take the necessary steps to get to Africa (the immunization shots, the malaria medication, the fund raising, the mental preparation, the shift-changes and "are you okay with this"es with my family and boyfriend) all with the implication that I may really not go through with it. After all, I have always wanted to do this, but I was not sure that I was strong enough to take something on like this. I didn't know if I had enough stability in my life to not feel like I couldn't survive in another country across the world.
I've never really been out of the country, except to Mexico... which doesn't really count as out of the country if you've been anywhere in Los Angeles in the past couple years. So this is my first big-girl trip across the world and I'm doing it alone. I signed up alone, I booked a ticket alone, and I will be going and coming back alone. Sure, I'll have the people of One Heart Source and a couple USC people whom I had never met previous to the trip to be there, but I am traveling alone for the first time anywhere legitimate. It's exhilarating, it's real. It's... all I've ever wanted to do, but I'm a little frightened of the implications of going to a country so filled with poverty and corruption. Somewhere where 90% of the country is of muslim descent. It makes the little blonde hairs stand up on my pale neck just thinking about it.
I'm still more excited than anyone could ever realize. I will never get another opportunity to do this, so it is something I can say I did when I am old with my children and grandchildren around, and hopefully by that time AIDS will be a distant memory.
Because of all the excitement and anticipation, I'm having a really hard time focusing, studying, or preparing for finals this week. Everything I am studying is not nearly as interesting as the ability to go to another country with practically nothing and live in a world with hardly any electricity, no internet, no phone service. To live in a concrete home with cots and a whole new life of food and culture. Just the thought of being away from Facebook, email, television, news media, and life as I know it is enough to get me jazzed.
Nothing will ever be as hard as this trip will be for me, and nothing has ever changed my life like this experience will. I am closing my too-blue-for-Muslim-countries eyes and jumping off the cliff with both feet, clutching to my knees and hoping I land in some deep, safe water.
Here's to the insecurities, excitement, fright, and readiness.
This truly has become a blog that has encapsulated it's name: Beyond Troy: To Troy and Beyond.
<3
Ninakupenda
(I love you), all!
PS. If you want to donate, there's still time!
CLICK HERE
I will be packed, excited, scared, nervous, and semi-ready to embark on a journey that I never really thought was real until this weekend when I put in the last of my money for the trip.
Africa has been calling my name softly for years. The continent, it's people, the severity of their life circumstances; all of it has always been something incredibly interesting to me, and I have always wanted to witness all of it first hand and do my best to help as many people as possible in the process. I have always felt that I needed to do something to help out the poverty-stricken and AIDS infested countries of Africa, but never really knew how to do it. Sure, I could give money to the Red Cross and hope it gets where I really want it to go (and by that I mean I want it to magically turn into food, clothing and toys and be deposited directly into the stomachs, onto the bodies, and in the hands of children who are struggling to survive), but I have never really felt the pull to do that. As much as I can dream that my hundreds of dollars WOULD go where it is supposed to go, I know how the government works in other countries, particularly in poorer countries like some of the ones in Africa, and I know how businesses in the states behave with charitable donations. My goal has been to take the money that I would have sent to an organization and go to the heart of the issues at hand and use it to do some good. I want to make as much good as I can with my limited funds and resources.
I can't explain how I feel about the issue of children being left to starve, become uneducated, and basically left on their own at 5, 6, 7 years of age. I can't describe how upset it makes me that these children lose their parents, grandparents, and other loved ones to a disease that, with proper control and self-help practices, can be controlled. Although there is still no cure for AIDS or HIV, the ability to combat it before it starts is so important and the people of these countries JUST don't know how to do it. That fact upsets me to no alleviation.
That's been on the back burner of my mind for years and years, and I have always felt the pull to one day experience the culture and find out a way to help. That's when One Heart Source (www.oneheartsource.org) came into my life. After a simple suggestion email from my adviser, I applied for a program that was designed specifically to work with children of an orphanage and teach them about the implications of HIV and the AIDS virus' and how to combat them before they start. After an application process and an interview, I was in. I was in so fast that my head began to reel at the thought of actually being able to go to Africa. It was slowly becoming some idealistic dream turned reality, and I never thought it would be a reality.
I began to take the necessary steps to get to Africa (the immunization shots, the malaria medication, the fund raising, the mental preparation, the shift-changes and "are you okay with this"es with my family and boyfriend) all with the implication that I may really not go through with it. After all, I have always wanted to do this, but I was not sure that I was strong enough to take something on like this. I didn't know if I had enough stability in my life to not feel like I couldn't survive in another country across the world.
I've never really been out of the country, except to Mexico... which doesn't really count as out of the country if you've been anywhere in Los Angeles in the past couple years. So this is my first big-girl trip across the world and I'm doing it alone. I signed up alone, I booked a ticket alone, and I will be going and coming back alone. Sure, I'll have the people of One Heart Source and a couple USC people whom I had never met previous to the trip to be there, but I am traveling alone for the first time anywhere legitimate. It's exhilarating, it's real. It's... all I've ever wanted to do, but I'm a little frightened of the implications of going to a country so filled with poverty and corruption. Somewhere where 90% of the country is of muslim descent. It makes the little blonde hairs stand up on my pale neck just thinking about it.
I'm still more excited than anyone could ever realize. I will never get another opportunity to do this, so it is something I can say I did when I am old with my children and grandchildren around, and hopefully by that time AIDS will be a distant memory.
Because of all the excitement and anticipation, I'm having a really hard time focusing, studying, or preparing for finals this week. Everything I am studying is not nearly as interesting as the ability to go to another country with practically nothing and live in a world with hardly any electricity, no internet, no phone service. To live in a concrete home with cots and a whole new life of food and culture. Just the thought of being away from Facebook, email, television, news media, and life as I know it is enough to get me jazzed.
Nothing will ever be as hard as this trip will be for me, and nothing has ever changed my life like this experience will. I am closing my too-blue-for-Muslim-countries eyes and jumping off the cliff with both feet, clutching to my knees and hoping I land in some deep, safe water.
Here's to the insecurities, excitement, fright, and readiness.
This truly has become a blog that has encapsulated it's name: Beyond Troy: To Troy and Beyond.
<3
Ninakupenda
(I love you), all!
PS. If you want to donate, there's still time!
CLICK HERE
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