Well Dakar was...well for lack of a better expression it just was. Same thing most big cities have...lots of problems. The city wasn't without Talibes, Baye Fall's, hookers, schemers, pan handlers, hawkers, etc. etc. Everyone is trying to get something out of you. There is no two ways about that...
Which lead me to a realization. I have just an overwhelming distrust for people now; well most people. It may seem sad, but I guarentee I wouldn't have lasted this long without her street savvy. I would be walking around clothesless at this point. There are few genuine people in this world I know. I probably could say I only know a handful (I surely am not one of them either). But at least back home if someone was not genuine they wouldn't be eyeing you up to see what they could get out of you. It is quite different here...maybe that's for the better though. If people here didn't have the mentality of eat or get eaten; this part of the World would still be under colonial rule. Without a doubt. Also, I can't say it has to do with the religious aspect that begging is kind of condoned. This is because other parts of the world have the same issues. It isn't laziness in my opnion either. It really has to do with fact that as much as all these kids do is dream of going to a school...survival is way more important. Also seeing how the average life expectancy is in 50's, you don't really have time to waste in school. At the end of the day, an education isn't gonna help you when you are 6 foot under...
We had two robbin' hoods with banter while we were in Dakar. The scheme was they would try to sell you this stuff as you were walking. Very nice, the usual Teranga stuff. One would then grab your pant leg and vigariously shake your leg. While the other would attempt to go into your pocket. Any loose bills or change would fall out and you would be non the wiser. Salif had some super pants with zip pockets. Didn't work on him. However, I had regular shorts on and when the banter continued and they came over to me they were able to get my mobile out! This Toubab however wasn't born yesterday and I looked to both of them and said my phone. One guy hands it over and was yeah it fell out. RIGHT RIGHT. I thanked him and told them both it was a neat trick. They were pretty nice guys.
I'm starting my wind down here. Vacation is close to being over and then only a week and a half till I leave for home...
Song of the Moment: I Want You Back - Discovery
Toubab Shout Out: TO MY POPS FOR GETTING EVERYTHING TAKEN CARE OF WITH THE FLIGHT...YOU ARE THE MAN
PS: I am in Cap Skiring (one of the nicest beaches in West Africa) we enjoyed a fresh mango yesterday and fresh Crab right off the beach caught two minutes earlier...HAHAHA...my life
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
LONG TIME NO POST
Hey all...I am really sorry haven't updated this in awhile. It's been more me trying to lve it up here then anything else. Either way I am sorry. I wish I had more time to blog, and there might be some retrospective posts when I get back that I have written out.
Well Salif and I are on our vacation(and you all thought this was my vacation, HA). We are in transit to Casamance. Don't read up on it too much everyone, all the stories aren't true. However, it is meant to be gorgeous. We are taking the boat from Dakar to Ziguinchor. Then taking a pirogue down to Cap Skiring, aparently the best beaches in Senegal. So far so good. Got into Dakar yesterday and are staying at an Auberge for about 6000 CFA a night. Not bad at all. I already miss Saint Louis though; family, friends, and the Talibes. It's going to be weird going to a lush green area after spending 2 mois in the Desert. Probably will remind me a lot of home. I haven't been graced by the feeling of rain drops on my skin in awhile. It's the little things in life...
Before we parted we had the pleasure of attending the Saint Louis Hip/Hop and Rap festival. All the youth were out because it was free. We heard some Reggae sets that had everyone buzzin'. It was nice to see everyone jamming out. Mister Bronson was chilling per usual. The music is one thing I haven't touched on. It's a mixture of reggae/rap/r&b/african drums/and more. It does really grow on you qnd to not hear djembés in the background of songs is going to be weird (and missed).
It's funny that I have been here for quite awhile, and yet it seems like time has just flown by. I don't really have the words to describe the way time and space work here, but it flip flops. Salif and I talk quite often about this. Other volunteers come for a month and they are gone so quickly. At the same flip of a coin, an event could seem like it was weeks ago, but in qctuqlity it only happened in the morning. Don't think I will ever figure that one out.
I got some Africanverses as well...paid 6000 cfa for 'em. The guy priced them at 25000. I came back with 7000. He returned with 15500. I dropped to 6000. He was so confused after this and responded but had said 7000. My response was that now I am saying 6000. Don't jerk me around man, this Toubab didn't just step off the Sept-Place. I live here. I enjoy bartering and am going to miss that as well.
Well I will try to update again sometime soon. Take it easy everyone. I miss you all.
Song of the Moment: Love is Wicked - Brick & Lace
PS: I have been called a Gnar twice in Dakar so far. Once by a rando on the street and another by a female bartender. I think she was just flirting with me. I don't really take it as a compliment here. I'd rather be a tanned Toubab. People more often assume I am Spanish. After, Cap Skiring I think even our mom is gonna think I am a blue eyed Moor. However, if we go to GNaritania to visit Al Qaeda in the Ladgreb I'll be thanking my lucky stars I am sure.
Well Salif and I are on our vacation(and you all thought this was my vacation, HA). We are in transit to Casamance. Don't read up on it too much everyone, all the stories aren't true. However, it is meant to be gorgeous. We are taking the boat from Dakar to Ziguinchor. Then taking a pirogue down to Cap Skiring, aparently the best beaches in Senegal. So far so good. Got into Dakar yesterday and are staying at an Auberge for about 6000 CFA a night. Not bad at all. I already miss Saint Louis though; family, friends, and the Talibes. It's going to be weird going to a lush green area after spending 2 mois in the Desert. Probably will remind me a lot of home. I haven't been graced by the feeling of rain drops on my skin in awhile. It's the little things in life...
Before we parted we had the pleasure of attending the Saint Louis Hip/Hop and Rap festival. All the youth were out because it was free. We heard some Reggae sets that had everyone buzzin'. It was nice to see everyone jamming out. Mister Bronson was chilling per usual. The music is one thing I haven't touched on. It's a mixture of reggae/rap/r&b/african drums/and more. It does really grow on you qnd to not hear djembés in the background of songs is going to be weird (and missed).
It's funny that I have been here for quite awhile, and yet it seems like time has just flown by. I don't really have the words to describe the way time and space work here, but it flip flops. Salif and I talk quite often about this. Other volunteers come for a month and they are gone so quickly. At the same flip of a coin, an event could seem like it was weeks ago, but in qctuqlity it only happened in the morning. Don't think I will ever figure that one out.
I got some Africanverses as well...paid 6000 cfa for 'em. The guy priced them at 25000. I came back with 7000. He returned with 15500. I dropped to 6000. He was so confused after this and responded but had said 7000. My response was that now I am saying 6000. Don't jerk me around man, this Toubab didn't just step off the Sept-Place. I live here. I enjoy bartering and am going to miss that as well.
Well I will try to update again sometime soon. Take it easy everyone. I miss you all.
Song of the Moment: Love is Wicked - Brick & Lace
PS: I have been called a Gnar twice in Dakar so far. Once by a rando on the street and another by a female bartender. I think she was just flirting with me. I don't really take it as a compliment here. I'd rather be a tanned Toubab. People more often assume I am Spanish. After, Cap Skiring I think even our mom is gonna think I am a blue eyed Moor. However, if we go to GNaritania to visit Al Qaeda in the Ladgreb I'll be thanking my lucky stars I am sure.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Sometimes a Run Can't Shake a Face
So I am writing this while it’s still fresh in my mind, and the emotions are still intact . Woke up this morning got a run in before work. Always a good thing; riding that high, I got to work…
Walked in and a boy is already sitting patiently waiting for treatment. Stanford and I take a look; yep definitely scabies. Down both legs and between the cheeks (per usual). Fair warning to those about to read this; I am not going to hold anything back. I am going to write exactly how we handle this. Even if you don’t handle things of this nature well, I implore you to continue reading. This is the closest thing the majority of you will get to experiencing this and what these children go through:
Get him in the shower to begin the process. We have the boy strip off his dirt clad clothes. It exposes his dark skin ravaged by tiny sores on the lower half. I look into his eyes and try to tell him in what little Wolof I know that it will all be okay. Those eyes are so full of fear stemming from the knowledge of what hardship he is about to experience. They reflect back at me, he can sense the sorrow I already am being to have for him build within me. I take a cup full of the frigid water and pour it over the boy’s head. This liquid sets off an immediate autonomic response in him as he begins to shiver. His skin is no longer faded by the dust and sand, but instead glistens like a shiny, new paint job that it still wet from application. Starting at the top (always the easy part first to gain the trust), I begin to scrub him with rough rag and soap. The tentative half-grin I flash him doesn’t work. He knows what I have to do; and those brown eyes convey a look of just get it over with. I give him a nod. As the rag meets the infected area, I hear that sound that I have come to hate. That first whimper is always the worst. You have no choice but to continue despite their pleading. You have to almost lose that innate ability for a human being to care for another to help them. The thought that blood is in fact THICKER than water comes to my mind. I watch the crimson run down the legs to meet the water standing below. It creates some sinister slick of human blood and water. It swirls. Got to focus. I’m rough with this rag because I know it’s easier than what still has to come. I look him over to make sure I have scrubbed everywhere. Shit, this poor boy has it on his penis and scrotum as well. More cold to wash off the soap and red life force that continues to ooze from his body. Pass him to C, who dries him off and ushers him into one of the rooms. I give a look up to ceiling. A futile attempt to get God, Allah, or whatever it is to give me a look back. The same plain ceiling remains. Some higher power authority isn’t going to take away the pain this child is about to endure. I look down at my gloves; they resemble some off white canvas with streaks of red, crimson, and some hue of brown. Almost mocking the fact that the job, the painting isn’t finished. Detachment, that’s the word for what I feel now. I have to, there is no other choice. I walk into the room as Stanford and C get the child up on the vinyl covered table. I throw away the used gloves for some new canvas. C and Stanford begin wiping down the crusted skin with Dakin. You have to be rough at this stage as well. Worse can still come. The purple mixes with the crimson and yellow. His body is doing everything it can to fight a losing, uphill battle. Tweezers are the worst part. The sheer sight of the reflective, metallic instrument sets the child into a terrible fit. He’s lucky though, at least they are the good ones. Stanford, either subconsciously or consciously, has grabbed the best pair. C, one of the Senegalese volunteers, and I assume positions around the child. We begin with the rear first, maybe it’s so we don’t have to see the poor kids face. I don’t know, but it seems to always happen that way. He screams and writhes like a possessed being. Despite his attempts to escape, he can’t overcome our combined efforts. Thankfully, Stanford is quick and efficient. Re-Dakin, apply the Ascabiol. I don’t really think that Ascabiol is effective with cases this bad. It’s better than nothing at the end of the day. The cream colored liquid is wiped around the newly opened lesions. The rouge is applied; leaving a pinkish hue against his dark skin. We flip him over. Give him a break and some water. The crying fades for a short period of time. I man the legs, as another volunteer holds his upper body and arms. Stanford and C attempt to do both the legs at the same time (quicker is better for this). The boy successfully squirms so much making it impossible for the pair to work at the same time. C takes over and meticulously begins to remove the sloughing skin from the body. It’s unnatural. Le gale has a way of making the skin begin to deteriorate, defeating the whole purpose in which nature created it. I give another look up. Same ceiling, same unanswered plea from the boy and myself. My senses are dulled. His cries are faint and thankfully I can’t smell that stale smell that accompanies any medical facility. I feel bad for C and Stanford in that regard. C finishes. Re-Dakin, apply the Ascabiol, apply the rouge. Gauze is applied to the biggest, isolated sores. The clusters of hellacious craters that cover the knees are wrapped in gauze roll. Apply the betadine. The Cover-All is too difficult to work with gloves on. Stanford takes hers off, and I follow suit. So what if either of us gets le Gale. At least then maybe one of us would have some small idea what this boy has already been through in his short life. The Betadine runs through and a brown stain is left. I hate that stain. That color. I hate it because I know what lies beneath. Something that makes me question my already faltering faith. I see a sucker on the table. I grab it and hand it to the boy. Our eyes meet again; they always do when you are working on these boys. I attempt that signature half-grin of mine again, as I look into that pair of dark saucers. He flashes a slight smile. Avert my gaze, and wipe my watery eyes with my forearm covered in beads of sweat. I can’t see them, but I know they are gray at this moment and not blue; despite the light blue shirt. We give him new clothes. Before he can even leave the room, another boy has come in. He has the le gale also. I already have subconsciously put on new canvas for the next horrid painting. I walk outside to feel the African sun beat on my skin that’s attempting to change its hue. I don’t bother to look up and plead this time. I’m sure the sky is beautiful though; but its beauty won’t change anything right now. Grab two quick long drags off another volunteer’s cigarette. Walk back into the room to do it all again. It’s still only 10:32 in the morning, and I don’t think my run can negate the meeting of eyes I will experience this morning. I won’t forget that slight smile the boy has given through all this, never forget…
We are fighting forest fires with Dixie cups over here. All of you that read this know me. I don’t ask for much, if anything. I am pleading…NO…scratch that…I am a humble man…I am begging you guys if you have any access to the following things (or know someone who does) please help these kids. If you would like to send anything (clothes, medical supplies, financial support, etc.) please contact my father for the address. I will personally reimburse everyone for the postage. Off the top of my head I can think of the following things that would be greatly appreciated:
Gloves, Gauze, Cover-All, OpSite, Iodine, Hydrocortisone cream, Triple Antibiotic Ointment, scissors, tweezers, forceps, scalpels, stitching kits, medical/athletic tape, Oral Antibiotics, Ibuprofen, Tylenol, Topical analgesics…and more specifically for Scabies: 5% Permetrin Topical crème or Ivermectin
THANK ALL OF YOU IN ADVANCE. EVEN IF YOU DON’T SEND ANYTHING AND YOU READ THIS. AT LEAST NOW YOU ARE AWARE. AND KNOWING IS HALF THE BATTLE. SORRY THAT IS MY FUTILE ATTEMPT FOR SOME HUMOR TODAY.
Song of the Moment: Hope – Fat Freddy’s Drop
Walked in and a boy is already sitting patiently waiting for treatment. Stanford and I take a look; yep definitely scabies. Down both legs and between the cheeks (per usual). Fair warning to those about to read this; I am not going to hold anything back. I am going to write exactly how we handle this. Even if you don’t handle things of this nature well, I implore you to continue reading. This is the closest thing the majority of you will get to experiencing this and what these children go through:
Get him in the shower to begin the process. We have the boy strip off his dirt clad clothes. It exposes his dark skin ravaged by tiny sores on the lower half. I look into his eyes and try to tell him in what little Wolof I know that it will all be okay. Those eyes are so full of fear stemming from the knowledge of what hardship he is about to experience. They reflect back at me, he can sense the sorrow I already am being to have for him build within me. I take a cup full of the frigid water and pour it over the boy’s head. This liquid sets off an immediate autonomic response in him as he begins to shiver. His skin is no longer faded by the dust and sand, but instead glistens like a shiny, new paint job that it still wet from application. Starting at the top (always the easy part first to gain the trust), I begin to scrub him with rough rag and soap. The tentative half-grin I flash him doesn’t work. He knows what I have to do; and those brown eyes convey a look of just get it over with. I give him a nod. As the rag meets the infected area, I hear that sound that I have come to hate. That first whimper is always the worst. You have no choice but to continue despite their pleading. You have to almost lose that innate ability for a human being to care for another to help them. The thought that blood is in fact THICKER than water comes to my mind. I watch the crimson run down the legs to meet the water standing below. It creates some sinister slick of human blood and water. It swirls. Got to focus. I’m rough with this rag because I know it’s easier than what still has to come. I look him over to make sure I have scrubbed everywhere. Shit, this poor boy has it on his penis and scrotum as well. More cold to wash off the soap and red life force that continues to ooze from his body. Pass him to C, who dries him off and ushers him into one of the rooms. I give a look up to ceiling. A futile attempt to get God, Allah, or whatever it is to give me a look back. The same plain ceiling remains. Some higher power authority isn’t going to take away the pain this child is about to endure. I look down at my gloves; they resemble some off white canvas with streaks of red, crimson, and some hue of brown. Almost mocking the fact that the job, the painting isn’t finished. Detachment, that’s the word for what I feel now. I have to, there is no other choice. I walk into the room as Stanford and C get the child up on the vinyl covered table. I throw away the used gloves for some new canvas. C and Stanford begin wiping down the crusted skin with Dakin. You have to be rough at this stage as well. Worse can still come. The purple mixes with the crimson and yellow. His body is doing everything it can to fight a losing, uphill battle. Tweezers are the worst part. The sheer sight of the reflective, metallic instrument sets the child into a terrible fit. He’s lucky though, at least they are the good ones. Stanford, either subconsciously or consciously, has grabbed the best pair. C, one of the Senegalese volunteers, and I assume positions around the child. We begin with the rear first, maybe it’s so we don’t have to see the poor kids face. I don’t know, but it seems to always happen that way. He screams and writhes like a possessed being. Despite his attempts to escape, he can’t overcome our combined efforts. Thankfully, Stanford is quick and efficient. Re-Dakin, apply the Ascabiol. I don’t really think that Ascabiol is effective with cases this bad. It’s better than nothing at the end of the day. The cream colored liquid is wiped around the newly opened lesions. The rouge is applied; leaving a pinkish hue against his dark skin. We flip him over. Give him a break and some water. The crying fades for a short period of time. I man the legs, as another volunteer holds his upper body and arms. Stanford and C attempt to do both the legs at the same time (quicker is better for this). The boy successfully squirms so much making it impossible for the pair to work at the same time. C takes over and meticulously begins to remove the sloughing skin from the body. It’s unnatural. Le gale has a way of making the skin begin to deteriorate, defeating the whole purpose in which nature created it. I give another look up. Same ceiling, same unanswered plea from the boy and myself. My senses are dulled. His cries are faint and thankfully I can’t smell that stale smell that accompanies any medical facility. I feel bad for C and Stanford in that regard. C finishes. Re-Dakin, apply the Ascabiol, apply the rouge. Gauze is applied to the biggest, isolated sores. The clusters of hellacious craters that cover the knees are wrapped in gauze roll. Apply the betadine. The Cover-All is too difficult to work with gloves on. Stanford takes hers off, and I follow suit. So what if either of us gets le Gale. At least then maybe one of us would have some small idea what this boy has already been through in his short life. The Betadine runs through and a brown stain is left. I hate that stain. That color. I hate it because I know what lies beneath. Something that makes me question my already faltering faith. I see a sucker on the table. I grab it and hand it to the boy. Our eyes meet again; they always do when you are working on these boys. I attempt that signature half-grin of mine again, as I look into that pair of dark saucers. He flashes a slight smile. Avert my gaze, and wipe my watery eyes with my forearm covered in beads of sweat. I can’t see them, but I know they are gray at this moment and not blue; despite the light blue shirt. We give him new clothes. Before he can even leave the room, another boy has come in. He has the le gale also. I already have subconsciously put on new canvas for the next horrid painting. I walk outside to feel the African sun beat on my skin that’s attempting to change its hue. I don’t bother to look up and plead this time. I’m sure the sky is beautiful though; but its beauty won’t change anything right now. Grab two quick long drags off another volunteer’s cigarette. Walk back into the room to do it all again. It’s still only 10:32 in the morning, and I don’t think my run can negate the meeting of eyes I will experience this morning. I won’t forget that slight smile the boy has given through all this, never forget…
We are fighting forest fires with Dixie cups over here. All of you that read this know me. I don’t ask for much, if anything. I am pleading…NO…scratch that…I am a humble man…I am begging you guys if you have any access to the following things (or know someone who does) please help these kids. If you would like to send anything (clothes, medical supplies, financial support, etc.) please contact my father for the address. I will personally reimburse everyone for the postage. Off the top of my head I can think of the following things that would be greatly appreciated:
Gloves, Gauze, Cover-All, OpSite, Iodine, Hydrocortisone cream, Triple Antibiotic Ointment, scissors, tweezers, forceps, scalpels, stitching kits, medical/athletic tape, Oral Antibiotics, Ibuprofen, Tylenol, Topical analgesics…and more specifically for Scabies: 5% Permetrin Topical crème or Ivermectin
THANK ALL OF YOU IN ADVANCE. EVEN IF YOU DON’T SEND ANYTHING AND YOU READ THIS. AT LEAST NOW YOU ARE AWARE. AND KNOWING IS HALF THE BATTLE. SORRY THAT IS MY FUTILE ATTEMPT FOR SOME HUMOR TODAY.
Song of the Moment: Hope – Fat Freddy’s Drop
The Safest Most Dangerous Region in the World
It's funny to see the parallels at work while I am here. Although many
people consider West Africa one of the most unsafe places on this
Globe; there are a few reasons why at the end of the day that is not
the case. Case in point; the main reason that comes to mind is for the
children here. IN NO WAY WOULD IT BE SAFE OR SMART TO ALLOW CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF 12 WALK THE STREETS IN THE STATES AT NIGHT(I won't be letting my young kids walk around like that during the daytime with everything that appens there). However, little kids here run around and play without the supervision of their parents all the time. They run up to strange persons to shake their hands and say hello. It isn't negligence or lack of responsibility, but an overwhelming sense of community and trust that allows this to happen. Everyone knows everyone here, and the people watch out for one another (and others family members). I wish our country would return to these roots (yes I know that there are so,e places like this, but for the most part this sense of community and caring has been placed on the backburner in the States). If not for our sakes, but our future seeds I hope we can start caring about people we barely know again...
Song of the Moment: My Block - Scarface
people consider West Africa one of the most unsafe places on this
Globe; there are a few reasons why at the end of the day that is not
the case. Case in point; the main reason that comes to mind is for the
children here. IN NO WAY WOULD IT BE SAFE OR SMART TO ALLOW CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF 12 WALK THE STREETS IN THE STATES AT NIGHT(I won't be letting my young kids walk around like that during the daytime with everything that appens there). However, little kids here run around and play without the supervision of their parents all the time. They run up to strange persons to shake their hands and say hello. It isn't negligence or lack of responsibility, but an overwhelming sense of community and trust that allows this to happen. Everyone knows everyone here, and the people watch out for one another (and others family members). I wish our country would return to these roots (yes I know that there are so,e places like this, but for the most part this sense of community and caring has been placed on the backburner in the States). If not for our sakes, but our future seeds I hope we can start caring about people we barely know again...
Song of the Moment: My Block - Scarface
Friday, April 2, 2010
A Boy and A Dog
So, yeah...I have a new companion. He is a stray dog, maybe a stray I
don't know. Either way, now I know what you are
thinking...rabies...mange...lost digits. This dog is more loyal than
any dog I have met in the US though. It all started one night; Chris,
Stanford, and I were walking home from a night out. After we crossed
the bridge, this group of four dogs came up to us. Chris got a wee bit
nervous, a "bad experience" with a dog when he was a child gave him a
complete aversion to the creatures. I told him to keep walking and
they will go away. Well, I was right about all the dogs, save one of
them. We all figured he wanted food, so we didn't give him any
inclination that we were providing a treat of any kind. Although, I am
fairly confident that all he wanted was companionship, because he was
probably the healthiest dog I have seen since I have been here. Long
story short; he came with us to Stanford's house and then to our home
(a 25 minute walk mind you). Now the past 3 times he has accompanied
us on our walks home late at night. Joining us at the same point each
time. Always bringing with him a wagging tail and a gentle
disposition. Chris dubbed him Vick. I decided that he would be called
that because he is a lot like the reformed NFL star trying to do the
right thing. The irony is still there in it all though, because he is
no scared to get to scrappin'. He has a necktie of sorts compliments
of me. Not as a form of ownership, because I view him as a friend in
an unfamiliar place, but more so I don't get bit by some random dog
and in fact get rabies. I'm determined to go out in a more daring way
than Poe.
*Song of the Moment: Ghetto Cowboy - Bone Thugs N Harmony
*The song of the moment is now what I imagine the young Senegalese man
that borrowed my iPOD is listening to just for reference...
TOUBAB SHOUT OUT: TO E MONEY FOR HELPING ME ADMIN THIS BLOG. THANKS
MAN, I OWE YOU SEVERAL KNOCK OFF JERSEYS FOR THIS STUFF...
don't know. Either way, now I know what you are
thinking...rabies...mange...lost digits. This dog is more loyal than
any dog I have met in the US though. It all started one night; Chris,
Stanford, and I were walking home from a night out. After we crossed
the bridge, this group of four dogs came up to us. Chris got a wee bit
nervous, a "bad experience" with a dog when he was a child gave him a
complete aversion to the creatures. I told him to keep walking and
they will go away. Well, I was right about all the dogs, save one of
them. We all figured he wanted food, so we didn't give him any
inclination that we were providing a treat of any kind. Although, I am
fairly confident that all he wanted was companionship, because he was
probably the healthiest dog I have seen since I have been here. Long
story short; he came with us to Stanford's house and then to our home
(a 25 minute walk mind you). Now the past 3 times he has accompanied
us on our walks home late at night. Joining us at the same point each
time. Always bringing with him a wagging tail and a gentle
disposition. Chris dubbed him Vick. I decided that he would be called
that because he is a lot like the reformed NFL star trying to do the
right thing. The irony is still there in it all though, because he is
no scared to get to scrappin'. He has a necktie of sorts compliments
of me. Not as a form of ownership, because I view him as a friend in
an unfamiliar place, but more so I don't get bit by some random dog
and in fact get rabies. I'm determined to go out in a more daring way
than Poe.
*Song of the Moment: Ghetto Cowboy - Bone Thugs N Harmony
*The song of the moment is now what I imagine the young Senegalese man
that borrowed my iPOD is listening to just for reference...
TOUBAB SHOUT OUT: TO E MONEY FOR HELPING ME ADMIN THIS BLOG. THANKS
MAN, I OWE YOU SEVERAL KNOCK OFF JERSEYS FOR THIS STUFF...
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Run 'Nuff Said
Please bare with me because I hae no other way of doing this...
7:29 AM...beep...start...man I hate stretching...Pssttt...ahh...the ever familiar hail of a taxi here...or toubab...turn around and see a young girl carrying fresh bread home for breakfast...surely that wasn't her...I...HATE...RUNNING...IN...THE...SAND...finally pavement...man it still must be early because those guys aren't even out selling coffee yet...bonjour toubab...bonjour...nothing beats the smell of the boulangerie in the morning...the main drag...man there aren't that many black and yellows at the turnabout yet...that will be a differet story when I get back...the market stalls are slowly opening...I guess I'll run on the sidewalk...almost roll my ankle...back on the road it is...bonjour toubab...bonjour... what's the commotion before the bridge...ahh I don't think that car rapide's muffler should be glowing bright orange and shooting out hot embers...I hate this footbridge...too narrow...too mant people...slow to a trot...there's another runner...we both look at each other with the same look...i wish we could just push these people off this bridge...an opening...we nod as we pass...almost to the end...there we go off...over the langue bridge...this place is way busier than the market near the stade...see q fqther son fishing duo...he was predestined for that life way before he was born...his son will be a fisherman...and his son's son...he doesn't seem to mind...get to the crumbling stairs leading to the ocean...breathe in the fresh, salty air...remember home, friends, family, my...donne-moi l'argent...kid does it look like I have money? I'm on a...remember I'm in Senegal...Je n'ai rien...head bqck home...back over the lange bridge...traffic is picking up...let's take the car bridge instead...I'd rather risk getting hit on this tetanus, strewn monolith then wait for people on that Godforsaken footbridge...ahh there is one way traffic...that makes this easier...and quicker...the market is bustling now...bananas and beignets...pants and crevettes...knock off jerseys and DVDs...a noire et jaune on my tail...what is his problem...he yells at me in wolof qnd points to the sidewalk...i yell at him in english and point ahead...he is gonna get caught in traffic ahead...should i???yeah I saved enough in the tanks...hop on the sidewalk...kick it into the next gear...time this just right...cut back on the road...in front of him...look back...wave...smile...au revoir...past the roundabout...passed the OiLibya...take the wrong turn at the wrong TiGo sign...backtrack...take the right turn...back to the sand...to the house...bonjour toubab...bonjour...beep...stop...8:03 AM
Song of the Moment: Nothing Song - Sigur Ros
7:29 AM...beep...start...man I hate stretching...Pssttt...ahh...the ever familiar hail of a taxi here...or toubab...turn around and see a young girl carrying fresh bread home for breakfast...surely that wasn't her...I...HATE...RUNNING...IN...THE...SAND...finally pavement...man it still must be early because those guys aren't even out selling coffee yet...bonjour toubab...bonjour...nothing beats the smell of the boulangerie in the morning...the main drag...man there aren't that many black and yellows at the turnabout yet...that will be a differet story when I get back...the market stalls are slowly opening...I guess I'll run on the sidewalk...almost roll my ankle...back on the road it is...bonjour toubab...bonjour... what's the commotion before the bridge...ahh I don't think that car rapide's muffler should be glowing bright orange and shooting out hot embers...I hate this footbridge...too narrow...too mant people...slow to a trot...there's another runner...we both look at each other with the same look...i wish we could just push these people off this bridge...an opening...we nod as we pass...almost to the end...there we go off...over the langue bridge...this place is way busier than the market near the stade...see q fqther son fishing duo...he was predestined for that life way before he was born...his son will be a fisherman...and his son's son...he doesn't seem to mind...get to the crumbling stairs leading to the ocean...breathe in the fresh, salty air...remember home, friends, family, my...donne-moi l'argent...kid does it look like I have money? I'm on a...remember I'm in Senegal...Je n'ai rien...head bqck home...back over the lange bridge...traffic is picking up...let's take the car bridge instead...I'd rather risk getting hit on this tetanus, strewn monolith then wait for people on that Godforsaken footbridge...ahh there is one way traffic...that makes this easier...and quicker...the market is bustling now...bananas and beignets...pants and crevettes...knock off jerseys and DVDs...a noire et jaune on my tail...what is his problem...he yells at me in wolof qnd points to the sidewalk...i yell at him in english and point ahead...he is gonna get caught in traffic ahead...should i???yeah I saved enough in the tanks...hop on the sidewalk...kick it into the next gear...time this just right...cut back on the road...in front of him...look back...wave...smile...au revoir...past the roundabout...passed the OiLibya...take the wrong turn at the wrong TiGo sign...backtrack...take the right turn...back to the sand...to the house...bonjour toubab...bonjour...beep...stop...8:03 AM
Song of the Moment: Nothing Song - Sigur Ros
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Missed Connections Craigslist Senegal
Dear Young Senegalese Man w: B/W hat,
Although a simple "Hey man, I like your music" would have sufficed. This was not enough for you. I will take it as the ultimate form of flattery to have enough gusto to nick my iPOD from the bar while we were all there enjoying the music over the surround system. It's especially impressive thqt you would do this because my music is was so appealling to you, because a friend of mine witnessed what your countrymen do to thieves (mob justice is apparently are normal for you all). I also have to take time and thank you for allowing me the opportunity to experience how your law system works. You will be interested to know that it is not that different than the US. A lot of waiting around the police statoin for nothing of frutition to come about. Either way I hope you enjoy my musicbase thoroughly with your friends. You guys could have a bitchin' house party with some of the songs on there.
Sincerely,
me
PS: I can't wait to hear "Turnt Up" bumpin' out of all the car rapides in Saint-Louis.
Song of the Moment: Soundguy is My Target - Rusko
Although a simple "Hey man, I like your music" would have sufficed. This was not enough for you. I will take it as the ultimate form of flattery to have enough gusto to nick my iPOD from the bar while we were all there enjoying the music over the surround system. It's especially impressive thqt you would do this because my music is was so appealling to you, because a friend of mine witnessed what your countrymen do to thieves (mob justice is apparently are normal for you all). I also have to take time and thank you for allowing me the opportunity to experience how your law system works. You will be interested to know that it is not that different than the US. A lot of waiting around the police statoin for nothing of frutition to come about. Either way I hope you enjoy my musicbase thoroughly with your friends. You guys could have a bitchin' house party with some of the songs on there.
Sincerely,
me
PS: I can't wait to hear "Turnt Up" bumpin' out of all the car rapides in Saint-Louis.
Song of the Moment: Soundguy is My Target - Rusko
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The First Cup
The first cup of tea has very little sugar and little if any mint added to it. It is said to be bitter like death...
I can honestly say I wasn't bitter about the situation until Christmas day 2007. I was sad, upset, and distraught; bitterness didn't come till that day. I had moved past the present aspect of the holiday, but when she couldn't even watch my brothers open their presents that morning because of the discomfort and pain the anger and bitterness set in. I'm glad to learn that I wasn't the only naive one, she seemed like she was getting better. Her hair was growing back and her energy increased substantially. Maybe it had already progressed too far; maybe she was exposed to some pathogen during her plane flight with me (I still wonder if it was ultately my vanity that killed her); or maybe it was all the social interactions of the holiday. Nevertheless, I could feel the rage and anger building in me as she laid with an IV drip on the couch that night.
The phone rings, I curse myself for my medical knowledge I had gained in college, end phone conversation, sit let anger and bitterness build, through plastic cup against the wall with enough force to break it, ignore Will's question as I walk out the door, walk of the deco and down the stairs, look at the gate, let fist meet the gate, assess the damage on the hand, shrug, sit down on the stoop, sob...
I can say I was namely bitter at God and myself. I should have been there that final year. I was mad at God for putting her through that pain. I was made at him for making my brothers into men at such a young age, I am so proud of them for taking up that torch. I was angry that he took away the love of my dad's life. I can also say bitterness switched to my dad as he moved on, while I remained in the infant stages of what the psychological world calls "the stages of mourning". Dad I want you to know I am so happy for you now though. When she died I lost a large portion of my being, and in turn anger and bitterness were born and fed by those last memories of her. Dad, Seth, and E I'm sorry you had to put up with me for the last two years and the way I was...
In her death though she still teaches me. She didn't have the bitter taste of that first cup in her soul when she passed. She was able to savor the taste of the last two cups before finality struck. It is that fact alone why I finally can get the disdain and map taste out of my mouth and move onto the next two cups as well.
Today was a rough day of work. At this daara, I had a kid that had been hit by a car and received a tibial fracture. His anterior chamber was extremely swollen. However, we did not have the means to do anything for him, and because he was a talibe he would just slip through the cracks I'm sure. So we had to leave without helping him in anyway. That boy still ways heavy on my heart.
On a MUCH lighter note, I'm fairly sure my mom here thinks I lack hand mouth coordination. This is nely because at dinner the plate is always farthest from me and I sit with my back to the light source. Needless to say I get offered a spoon when everyone else eats with a fork.
Song of the Moment: Up Above - Cyne
PS: I already wrote this post once and it got erased. Although I have to say the first draft was better, I'm glad I pushed myself to go through it again. It all needed to be written out, more for my own personal reasons than anything else...I did experience something else interesting today. I'm sure the same feeling would befall a young Muslim man if he heard a Catholic choir boy singing a hymn; but today at the same daara I was completely captivated by a young talibe chanting the Koran in Arabic. My words wouldn't be able to describe the beauty and otherworldliness of hearing that...
I can honestly say I wasn't bitter about the situation until Christmas day 2007. I was sad, upset, and distraught; bitterness didn't come till that day. I had moved past the present aspect of the holiday, but when she couldn't even watch my brothers open their presents that morning because of the discomfort and pain the anger and bitterness set in. I'm glad to learn that I wasn't the only naive one, she seemed like she was getting better. Her hair was growing back and her energy increased substantially. Maybe it had already progressed too far; maybe she was exposed to some pathogen during her plane flight with me (I still wonder if it was ultately my vanity that killed her); or maybe it was all the social interactions of the holiday. Nevertheless, I could feel the rage and anger building in me as she laid with an IV drip on the couch that night.
The phone rings, I curse myself for my medical knowledge I had gained in college, end phone conversation, sit let anger and bitterness build, through plastic cup against the wall with enough force to break it, ignore Will's question as I walk out the door, walk of the deco and down the stairs, look at the gate, let fist meet the gate, assess the damage on the hand, shrug, sit down on the stoop, sob...
I can say I was namely bitter at God and myself. I should have been there that final year. I was mad at God for putting her through that pain. I was made at him for making my brothers into men at such a young age, I am so proud of them for taking up that torch. I was angry that he took away the love of my dad's life. I can also say bitterness switched to my dad as he moved on, while I remained in the infant stages of what the psychological world calls "the stages of mourning". Dad I want you to know I am so happy for you now though. When she died I lost a large portion of my being, and in turn anger and bitterness were born and fed by those last memories of her. Dad, Seth, and E I'm sorry you had to put up with me for the last two years and the way I was...
In her death though she still teaches me. She didn't have the bitter taste of that first cup in her soul when she passed. She was able to savor the taste of the last two cups before finality struck. It is that fact alone why I finally can get the disdain and map taste out of my mouth and move onto the next two cups as well.
Today was a rough day of work. At this daara, I had a kid that had been hit by a car and received a tibial fracture. His anterior chamber was extremely swollen. However, we did not have the means to do anything for him, and because he was a talibe he would just slip through the cracks I'm sure. So we had to leave without helping him in anyway. That boy still ways heavy on my heart.
On a MUCH lighter note, I'm fairly sure my mom here thinks I lack hand mouth coordination. This is nely because at dinner the plate is always farthest from me and I sit with my back to the light source. Needless to say I get offered a spoon when everyone else eats with a fork.
Song of the Moment: Up Above - Cyne
PS: I already wrote this post once and it got erased. Although I have to say the first draft was better, I'm glad I pushed myself to go through it again. It all needed to be written out, more for my own personal reasons than anything else...I did experience something else interesting today. I'm sure the same feeling would befall a young Muslim man if he heard a Catholic choir boy singing a hymn; but today at the same daara I was completely captivated by a young talibe chanting the Koran in Arabic. My words wouldn't be able to describe the beauty and otherworldliness of hearing that...
Monday, March 22, 2010
The Toubab Strikes Back
So there is an an acronym that is used in West Africa, WAWA, which stands for West Africa Wins Again. The majority of the time this is true. trains times get changed for no reason causing you to miss them and purchase a new ticket for the next train that "will surely leave at the designated time. Border officials make up new laws and regulations to feed their personal coffers. Merchants almost always have a regular price and a Toubab price for goods. However, every once I'm awhile you can beat this system. I have noticed that on my walk to work everyday I'm able to pick up wireless for a short stretch next to a military compound. So since everyone enjoys this blog from what I am told, I figure I'd get in the African spirit and borrow their Internet to re-up the blog more frequently.
The process of making tea and communally drinking it is big in Senegal. The tea more often than not is of the verge variety. Water, sugar, and mint are the other components. Whoever is making the tea goes through an elaborate process of cooling and frothing the tea for consuming. The tea is repeatedly poured into the various small glass tasses from elevated altitudes. This both allows the air to cool the tea and foam up in the glasses as well. It's very interesting and enjoyable to watch. I am slowly, but surely getting used to doing this skillfully, just like a lot of things here, without losing the majority of the tea. I enjoy the whole social aspect of it, after every evening of work all the volunteers relax on the veranda on top of work. The view is immense by the way. It's a way of bringing everyone together to just talk about the day or life in general. This generally consists of three separate cups which a distinct taste to each conveying three important aspects of the world. So I've decided the next three blog updates are gonna be conceptual surrounding these three cups of tea as the apply to yours truly. Should be a somewhat interesting look at myself, for both y'all and me. So stay tuned friends and family...
Overall was a today was a pretty good day. Went to work in the morning and when I got back I took a nap. Went back to work in the afternoon, and got some really good photos of les talibes that hang around the center most often. It's hard to get candid pictures of these little guys because as soon as you pull out the camera everyone wants a piece of the action. Of course I am more than happy to oblige. Hopefully they won't ever figure out the difference between live view and regular view mode, or else my candid chances are out the window. After work and tea this evening, I got a nice night run in. By the way, E, I can tell you this much I have yet to find any form of Gatorade here. So in turn as much water as I drink here I am never rehydrated. Thanks to the 30 minute walks to work (that's just one way mind you) and my love for running. Then again everyone knows that I never hydrated properly anyway. Oh and for all you people that said I never eat or any of that nonsense, you should see me here. I eat MORE here than I ever have at home, that information is mainly for Amanda, Rachel, and KFerg. Like I said this trip is full of irony. Speaking of food I'm about to eat dinner, so until the next time...
Song of the Moment: Disorder - Joy Division
The process of making tea and communally drinking it is big in Senegal. The tea more often than not is of the verge variety. Water, sugar, and mint are the other components. Whoever is making the tea goes through an elaborate process of cooling and frothing the tea for consuming. The tea is repeatedly poured into the various small glass tasses from elevated altitudes. This both allows the air to cool the tea and foam up in the glasses as well. It's very interesting and enjoyable to watch. I am slowly, but surely getting used to doing this skillfully, just like a lot of things here, without losing the majority of the tea. I enjoy the whole social aspect of it, after every evening of work all the volunteers relax on the veranda on top of work. The view is immense by the way. It's a way of bringing everyone together to just talk about the day or life in general. This generally consists of three separate cups which a distinct taste to each conveying three important aspects of the world. So I've decided the next three blog updates are gonna be conceptual surrounding these three cups of tea as the apply to yours truly. Should be a somewhat interesting look at myself, for both y'all and me. So stay tuned friends and family...
Overall was a today was a pretty good day. Went to work in the morning and when I got back I took a nap. Went back to work in the afternoon, and got some really good photos of les talibes that hang around the center most often. It's hard to get candid pictures of these little guys because as soon as you pull out the camera everyone wants a piece of the action. Of course I am more than happy to oblige. Hopefully they won't ever figure out the difference between live view and regular view mode, or else my candid chances are out the window. After work and tea this evening, I got a nice night run in. By the way, E, I can tell you this much I have yet to find any form of Gatorade here. So in turn as much water as I drink here I am never rehydrated. Thanks to the 30 minute walks to work (that's just one way mind you) and my love for running. Then again everyone knows that I never hydrated properly anyway. Oh and for all you people that said I never eat or any of that nonsense, you should see me here. I eat MORE here than I ever have at home, that information is mainly for Amanda, Rachel, and KFerg. Like I said this trip is full of irony. Speaking of food I'm about to eat dinner, so until the next time...
Song of the Moment: Disorder - Joy Division
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Check out the Eyes
Well this is just a quick one for you people...I am eating lunch with some other volunteers in a cafe with WIFI. Things are going well here, I am just living it up. I love it here and I'm glad I got to phone some of you guys because of the Orange Promotion Day...
Real quick, I noticed that some people have this uncanny ability to smile with their eyes. When the wind is blowing here everyone has a scarf, t-shirt, or something to cover up their face for protection. However the eyes can convey a lot...just something to think about...hope all is well and I will blog again soon...
Photos are up on facebook...
Song of the Moment: One Big Holiday - My Morning Jacket
Real quick, I noticed that some people have this uncanny ability to smile with their eyes. When the wind is blowing here everyone has a scarf, t-shirt, or something to cover up their face for protection. However the eyes can convey a lot...just something to think about...hope all is well and I will blog again soon...
Photos are up on facebook...
Song of the Moment: One Big Holiday - My Morning Jacket
Friday, March 19, 2010
So I figure I'm gonna do my best to get this blog thing rolling pretty regularly now. By the way if there are loads of typos don't hate...It's a french keyboard and I don't have the time or energy to edit this stuff.
Well today is my 3 week anniversary here, it's like the time here is on overdrive. I can honestly say I don't like that at all. I want to be able to slow down time while I am here, but keep it going at regular speed for all those crazies that miss me. I hope your break from me is going well, you all deserve it.
So let me give a quick rundown of my work; L'Espoirs de Demain is essentially a mini-infirmary, barber shop(with straight razorblades), daycare, daara to daara medical team, community center, and cafeteria (on Friday afternoons we feed the kids). The medical aspect of things is really sad. No time to change gloves between kids, minimal supplies, minimal budget, and that's compounded with an even bigger population to treat. We do the best that we can with what we got. Touba, the gentleman that runs it, he is a good man in my eyes and the services we provide are surely better than nothing.
It's hard as shit to turn a kid away at a daara because we ran out of supplies in our kit. C'est les vies des Talibes. These kids are tougher than anyone I have ever met, and what they go through would be hell for anyone in the western part of the world (I would argue that they have some of the hardest lives in the eastern part as well). Just keep doing what I can to make them laugh, smile, and feel better while I am here.
I do have to say that last night couldn't have been put together more perfectly by her...I sat on the veranda of my work listening to a melange of laughter and words spoken in no less than four different languages. Men, women, and children playing cards and drinking tea communally forgetting that they are Toubab or the person next to them is a Negre. The harmattan blowing dust into the air, while the sun provided a glow that made the whole scene ethereal. As I sat there and took in all that I could, I really couldn't help but believe that this is the way life should be...
I WILL BE GETTING PICTURES UP TOMORROW FOR THOSE OF YOU THAT HAVE BEEN ASKING...INSHA'ALLAH that is...
Well today is my 3 week anniversary here, it's like the time here is on overdrive. I can honestly say I don't like that at all. I want to be able to slow down time while I am here, but keep it going at regular speed for all those crazies that miss me. I hope your break from me is going well, you all deserve it.
So let me give a quick rundown of my work; L'Espoirs de Demain is essentially a mini-infirmary, barber shop(with straight razorblades), daycare, daara to daara medical team, community center, and cafeteria (on Friday afternoons we feed the kids). The medical aspect of things is really sad. No time to change gloves between kids, minimal supplies, minimal budget, and that's compounded with an even bigger population to treat. We do the best that we can with what we got. Touba, the gentleman that runs it, he is a good man in my eyes and the services we provide are surely better than nothing.
It's hard as shit to turn a kid away at a daara because we ran out of supplies in our kit. C'est les vies des Talibes. These kids are tougher than anyone I have ever met, and what they go through would be hell for anyone in the western part of the world (I would argue that they have some of the hardest lives in the eastern part as well). Just keep doing what I can to make them laugh, smile, and feel better while I am here.
I do have to say that last night couldn't have been put together more perfectly by her...I sat on the veranda of my work listening to a melange of laughter and words spoken in no less than four different languages. Men, women, and children playing cards and drinking tea communally forgetting that they are Toubab or the person next to them is a Negre. The harmattan blowing dust into the air, while the sun provided a glow that made the whole scene ethereal. As I sat there and took in all that I could, I really couldn't help but believe that this is the way life should be...
I WILL BE GETTING PICTURES UP TOMORROW FOR THOSE OF YOU THAT HAVE BEEN ASKING...INSHA'ALLAH that is...
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Oui, Je suis un Toubab
Okay let me apologize for a few things here. One that I haven't been in contact with everyone as much as I would like. Internet service is dodgy at best in Africa. Second sorry for the nu,erous posts today, but it is a Godsend that Blogspot saves you drafts randomly. Anyways enough of that, I hope you all are well because I am DOING FINE. I absolutely love it here and the people are so nice. My work can be difficult, but it is absolutely worth it at the end of the day. I love these kids already and I have only been here a month.
So desert culture is absolutely amazing. Now technically I am not in the Sahara, Saint Louis is actually located in a region called in the Sahel. This is the closest thing I have ever been to a desert though. The city is so lively, and more so than a lush place full of green foliage. I think its because people here do everything with a purpose, because you can't afford not to. I enjoy it and running here is difficult because of the heat and sand. Which I ironically enjoy, you all know I love a challenge. I strive to be the fastest Toubab in Saint Louis. The sand is everywhere and gets everywhere. Yeah you would hate it Will. I actually don't mind it already, and I think I am going to be pretty upset when I wash the last bit of sand off me when I leave this place. Oh that whole Toubab thing, a Toubab is the name given to White folks here, if you are Arabic you are a Gnar, and if you are of Black African descent you are a Negre. Although my host mom says that if I tan too much I'm gonna go from Toubab - Gnar - Negre. Haha, I told her I don't really care.
I have a roommate now also. His name is Christopher and he is from England. He is 21 and a great guy. I really lucked out because we clicked right away. He is a Toon Fan because he is from Newcastle. Anyways this whole thing has been blessed by her I believe. Everything from my placement to my host mom to my roommate. For the first time in a long time ALL the pieces are fitting, and that just seems odd because I am in such a foreign place.
I believe the people here need the sand, just as much as they chreish the water. It sets them apart from the rest of the world and its a part of them as much as water is. I hope I leave here with water, blood and sand my veins. I don't ever want to forget this place or the people here...
Oh by the way, IT'S VERY HOT HERE IF THE HARMATTAN QUITS BLOWING...
Song of the Moment: Staring at the Sun - TV on the Radio
So desert culture is absolutely amazing. Now technically I am not in the Sahara, Saint Louis is actually located in a region called in the Sahel. This is the closest thing I have ever been to a desert though. The city is so lively, and more so than a lush place full of green foliage. I think its because people here do everything with a purpose, because you can't afford not to. I enjoy it and running here is difficult because of the heat and sand. Which I ironically enjoy, you all know I love a challenge. I strive to be the fastest Toubab in Saint Louis. The sand is everywhere and gets everywhere. Yeah you would hate it Will. I actually don't mind it already, and I think I am going to be pretty upset when I wash the last bit of sand off me when I leave this place. Oh that whole Toubab thing, a Toubab is the name given to White folks here, if you are Arabic you are a Gnar, and if you are of Black African descent you are a Negre. Although my host mom says that if I tan too much I'm gonna go from Toubab - Gnar - Negre. Haha, I told her I don't really care.
I have a roommate now also. His name is Christopher and he is from England. He is 21 and a great guy. I really lucked out because we clicked right away. He is a Toon Fan because he is from Newcastle. Anyways this whole thing has been blessed by her I believe. Everything from my placement to my host mom to my roommate. For the first time in a long time ALL the pieces are fitting, and that just seems odd because I am in such a foreign place.
I believe the people here need the sand, just as much as they chreish the water. It sets them apart from the rest of the world and its a part of them as much as water is. I hope I leave here with water, blood and sand my veins. I don't ever want to forget this place or the people here...
Oh by the way, IT'S VERY HOT HERE IF THE HARMATTAN QUITS BLOWING...
Song of the Moment: Staring at the Sun - TV on the Radio
Monday, March 8, 2010
Asalaam Aleykoum
Ok sorry to everyone that I have worried by not posting. I have been getting busy adjusting to things here and finding where everything is. Well the people here are amazing let me say first and foremost. My host mom, Madame Bawa is amazing and reminds me exactly of you know who. She has already told me that from now until the end of days I am her son.
The place I work at with les Talibes is less of a daycare and more of a quick stop infirmary/ I spend my days cleaning wounds, shaving heads because of lice and scabies outbreaks, cleaning daaras, and feeding the kids. The conditions are pretty bad, but it is one of those lesser of the two evils things.
Yesterday I was enjoying a run and I realized how lucky I am to enjoy that simple thing. The people here can not afford to run because it wastes precious energy that the people need to use to go through daily life. That was such a foreign concept for me. I truly am blessed.
The last thing I wanna say real quick is that I have never experienced something as beautiful as last night. I was laying in a sand garden in my house here, looking at so many bright stars, the power was out in Ndiolafene...in my cartier this occurs frequently, and listening to the the last call to prayer from the mosques. Absolutely amazing to say the least, words can not possibly do that moment justice.
Song of the Moment: Facing East - Thievery Corporation
The place I work at with les Talibes is less of a daycare and more of a quick stop infirmary/ I spend my days cleaning wounds, shaving heads because of lice and scabies outbreaks, cleaning daaras, and feeding the kids. The conditions are pretty bad, but it is one of those lesser of the two evils things.
Yesterday I was enjoying a run and I realized how lucky I am to enjoy that simple thing. The people here can not afford to run because it wastes precious energy that the people need to use to go through daily life. That was such a foreign concept for me. I truly am blessed.
The last thing I wanna say real quick is that I have never experienced something as beautiful as last night. I was laying in a sand garden in my house here, looking at so many bright stars, the power was out in Ndiolafene...in my cartier this occurs frequently, and listening to the the last call to prayer from the mosques. Absolutely amazing to say the least, words can not possibly do that moment justice.
Song of the Moment: Facing East - Thievery Corporation
Thursday, February 25, 2010
I BE UP, UP & AWAY
Well, right now I'm on the airplane to start my adventure. It still hasn't hit me yet that I am going to be away from everything and everyone I've ever known. I'm sure it will come at some point. So far the journey has gone well. I sat next to this this really nice woman from Nigeria on my flight from ATL to NYC. Her name was Jo, and she works for Shell and lives in Lagos. She was on her way to the UN for a conference. I asked her a lot of questions and she was impressed with my knowledge of her homeland.
Then in JFK I met a gentleman by the name of Simba. He taught french at the University of Cincinnati and spoke 5 languages. The US really needs to get up to date with the whole language thing in our education. Well I'm going to bed, should wake up in Senegal.
Song of the Moment: Up Up & Away - Kid Kudi
Then in JFK I met a gentleman by the name of Simba. He taught french at the University of Cincinnati and spoke 5 languages. The US really needs to get up to date with the whole language thing in our education. Well I'm going to bed, should wake up in Senegal.
Song of the Moment: Up Up & Away - Kid Kudi
Monday, February 22, 2010
Dream like a Child
Imagination leads to great things and accomplishments. If you're a dreamer today it seems like you're automatically tagged as being "lazy", "crazy", "unmotivated", or all of the above. If you disagree with me, then think back in the past month. How many times have you scoffed at someone elses ideas? I know I have done it at least a few times. Where would we be if we never dreamed? I'd argue that if we, the collective we that is mankind, never dreamed we wouldn't be where we are at right now. No new inventions or ideas would have ever been produced; countries and new governments would ever have been created; and stagnation would rule the world we live in. Being a citizen of this country, I am afforded the right to dream. In some parts of the world, dreamers are ostracized or much worse. Dreams have unlimited potential, and that can scare people. Maybe that is why we are so quick to put aside others dreams as coming from an unsound mind, but our own personal dreams are perfectly sound. It comes down to the fact that dreams and dreamers can be "dangerous", not in the normal sense of the words. It's the untapped potential of the human mind that scares people, even our own dreams can scare us. So we at times shelf our own ideas because of the possibilities and where they can lead. I know some are worried about my dreams. At times they can scare me a little bit, but I put those fears aside because I'm more scared of censoring my own mind. Life is way too short to not follow your dreams. It's so much easier to let your imagination run wild when you're a kid. It probably goes along with the fact that as "grown ups", our lives have taught us that their are certain things that are to be feared. As children though we haven't experienced what life has thrown at us. So those barriers aren't there in our youth. I plan on continuing to dream like a child...even if I fall flat on my face, I know I am strong enough to pick myself back up, dust myself off, and try again.
With that being said I would like to take this time now to thank all of you that have supported and will support me while I live my dreams. The going away shindig was great, and thank y'all for that. I just want you all to know that without you guys, I wouldn't be able to do this. You're support is going to give me strength throughout this adventure.
Today started off on a very positive note, I was driving to go work out this morning and I got a phone call. I didn't recognize the number, but I DID notice that it was a few digits too long. I answered the phone and it was Fina, the desk manager for Projects Abroad in Senegal. She sounded so nice, sweet, and sincere. She was calling to make sure I was ready for my impending trip. I told her I was and that I couldn't wait to meet her and everyone else. She laughed a few times on the phone, and that made me smile so big. It set me at ease.
"Laughing is the way your soul smiles."
Song of the Moment: Time of Your Song - Matisyahu
With that being said I would like to take this time now to thank all of you that have supported and will support me while I live my dreams. The going away shindig was great, and thank y'all for that. I just want you all to know that without you guys, I wouldn't be able to do this. You're support is going to give me strength throughout this adventure.
Today started off on a very positive note, I was driving to go work out this morning and I got a phone call. I didn't recognize the number, but I DID notice that it was a few digits too long. I answered the phone and it was Fina, the desk manager for Projects Abroad in Senegal. She sounded so nice, sweet, and sincere. She was calling to make sure I was ready for my impending trip. I told her I was and that I couldn't wait to meet her and everyone else. She laughed a few times on the phone, and that made me smile so big. It set me at ease.
"Laughing is the way your soul smiles."
Song of the Moment: Time of Your Song - Matisyahu
Sunday, February 21, 2010
You and Your Shoes
Today I spent close to 12 hours in airports and airplanes...that's half a day (yeah I learned a little something in grade school). While there I focused on something that I realized a while back and had forgotten about; you can tell a lot about someone by the shoes on their feet. Shoes speak volumes about who you are, where you're from, and what point in life you're at. They can be everything from a fashion statement to a status symbol; seriously take some time to look at your own shoes sometime, more specifically your favorite pair. What do they say about you? I'm going to use my old reeboks for an example. They are beat up, warn down, have character, been around the block/world, broken in, but they keep truckin' along just like the first day I strapped them on my feet. They remind me of myself, my attitude, and my life. I've always argued that I am no more important or better than anyone else walking this earth. Those shoes remind of that fact every time I see 'em. God, Allah, or whatever your particular brand of religious tea didn't make any one of us above the rest (yeah you can argue that the Hindu caste system speaks otherwise, but I don't agree with that religion in that regard). Whether you have a $500 dollar pair of Gucci loafers or a pair of Walmart Adidas knockoffs, no one deserves to live life more than anyone else. I'm not trying to preach here, and so don't take it as being that way. I'm not saying you should feel bad for wearing nice shoes (I have a few pairs of shoes that in my opinion are "nice"). All I want is for you to at some point in your life; look down at the shoes that carry you through life and think about what they say about you. Maybe you have a pair of boots that give you confidence; a pair of running shoes that smell bad, but have been loyal to you for hundreds miles; a pair of vans that set you and your style apart from everyone else; or a pair of nice dress shoes that you bought with hard earned cash. Whatever style, brand, color, or size they are; they are you and no one should ever be able to change that.
Now that I am home from visiting the family in PA, all I have left is to count down the days till I leave (5 days to be exact). Each day that goes by I get more anxious, but I don't know about what exactly...I do know that I'll figure it out someday. May not be tomorrow, the day I get there, or till months after I get back; I just know when it hits me I'll realize it...
I read a vietnamese quote that I am gonna do my best to live by while I'm over there. In my oh so humble opinion, it is some of the wisest words of advice that can be spoken while you are interacting in this world:
"You learn by looking and listening as opposed to talking. That's why you have two ears, two eyes, and only one mouth."
Song of the Moment: Dayvan Cowboy - Boards of Canada
Now that I am home from visiting the family in PA, all I have left is to count down the days till I leave (5 days to be exact). Each day that goes by I get more anxious, but I don't know about what exactly...I do know that I'll figure it out someday. May not be tomorrow, the day I get there, or till months after I get back; I just know when it hits me I'll realize it...
I read a vietnamese quote that I am gonna do my best to live by while I'm over there. In my oh so humble opinion, it is some of the wisest words of advice that can be spoken while you are interacting in this world:
"You learn by looking and listening as opposed to talking. That's why you have two ears, two eyes, and only one mouth."
Song of the Moment: Dayvan Cowboy - Boards of Canada
Friday, February 19, 2010
Say Goodbye with your Eyes
I'm starting to get this eerie feeling when it comes to saying goodbyes now. I can't really put my finger on it, but it is far from normal. Saying goodbye to people because I'm leaving for 3 months just seems odd to me. What's 3 months in the course of a lifetime??? I equate it to about 5 seconds in a day, if that. It's almost like a just in case kind of thing for some people, especially when I look into their eyes. Eyes can tell quite a bit about how a person is feeling at the moment; whether or not they are angry, how excited they are to see you, whether it's okay to kiss the person whoe eyes your looking into, if their worried/scared about the future, and so much more. Eyes might have been some way for humans to communicate to one another before spoken language. Eye contact is important to the development of communication in infants. However, I'm assuming that the majority of the world has moved away from their instinct to read pupil dilation, catch eyelid closure, and observe eye movement/aversion. It is arguably an unnecessary talent, skill, behavior, etc. Nevertheless, spending my last 7 days saying my goodbyes to people; I often find myself paying more attention to what their eyes are saying than the words that are coming out of their mouths...
There are a few people I won't have the opportunity to say goodbye to in person, if you know who are you also know how sorry I am about that fact. Let me give some hints; two in Cali, one in FL, one in Bama, and ALL amazing friends who I am going to miss very much. Sorry guys, and I'll try to make it up some way to y'all...
I got word from back home that my pack is in. I can't deny the fact that I was a little nervous about whether or not it was going to come in. Sometimes that little feeling of not knowing whether or not something will work out gives me a sort of high. I'm a sucker for a rush el naturale (Merck, Wyeth, and Pfizer have nothing on God; Serotonin, Dopamine, Norepinephrine, Adrenaline, etc) no matter what stimulus, good or bad, causes it. That's why I wing a lot of things probably; it'll show in this blog I'm sure. Today I'm getting a few last minute items (Water purification items, a clothesline, quickdry towel, power outlet converter, a travel electric razor, etc) which further proves my point.
Song of the Moment: Fight Test - The Flaming Lips
There are a few people I won't have the opportunity to say goodbye to in person, if you know who are you also know how sorry I am about that fact. Let me give some hints; two in Cali, one in FL, one in Bama, and ALL amazing friends who I am going to miss very much. Sorry guys, and I'll try to make it up some way to y'all...
I got word from back home that my pack is in. I can't deny the fact that I was a little nervous about whether or not it was going to come in. Sometimes that little feeling of not knowing whether or not something will work out gives me a sort of high. I'm a sucker for a rush el naturale (Merck, Wyeth, and Pfizer have nothing on God; Serotonin, Dopamine, Norepinephrine, Adrenaline, etc) no matter what stimulus, good or bad, causes it. That's why I wing a lot of things probably; it'll show in this blog I'm sure. Today I'm getting a few last minute items (Water purification items, a clothesline, quickdry towel, power outlet converter, a travel electric razor, etc) which further proves my point.
Song of the Moment: Fight Test - The Flaming Lips
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Even the Same things are Different
7 days until I leave...
Wow everyday I wake up and it come closer to the time for me to leave. I can't believe it. Even I'm starting to think that this is slightly ridiculous, only slightly though. Like I stated before, this makes more sense than anthing I've done in the past two years. It probably wont hit me till I step out of the airport onto african soil again. It's going to sound odd, but the feel of everything over there IS different. I don't mean the obvious things; food, people, culture, radio, television, religious beliefs, customs, etc. It's the things that seem so commonplace all around the world. The way the sun beats down on your face, the way the water feels as you cup your hands, and the way the wind blows back your hair. Besides the people and culture, those are the things that I miss about Africa. Taking those split-seconds to realize your senses aren't wrong; that something is aloof; and that nothing feels, smells, sounds, tastes, and looks the same.
My main fear/concern about living in l'Afrique for 3 months is the language barrier. For those of you that are unaware african nations don't speak only african tongues and dialects. The majority of Africa has a national language that is common in other parts of the world. The majority of countries in West Africa (where I'll be) are francophone countries. Although the population of the country does speak their tribal language, they also learn to speak french (or English in some countries and also Portuguese in a couple others). Once again America is falling behind the rest of the world in the language department. It really is sad and is something that everyone always talks about, but we need to get on the ball of making learning at least one other language a priority.
Yesterday I was in the car for an extended period of time, 5 hours to be exact. Well I wasn't in control of the radio (you know the "if you are the driver, then you get to control the music" rule/law) and this one song came on at least 5 times in that five hour period. By the the 3rd time this song came on I got the gist of the lyrics and motif behind it (didn't particularly like the song, to each his/her own though). It's an interesting concept, and I'd like to think that I tend to at least try to live like I am dying everyday. At times, I catch myself slipping on this concept and have to reel myself back in. Life is way too short not to live that way. The second all of us are conceived by our parents we start the end game clock. Only God knows when the time is up, and so we are all at a disadvantage. SO at the end of the day we should all be able to say to ourselves, as we stare up at the ceiling fan while we lay on our backs, "Hey if I don't wake up from my bed tomorrow, at least I know I gave the past X amount of years my all." So tell that girl at the bar, "You're gorgeous" (and when she doesn't hear you; don't get discouraged and say "Hey, I just want you to know you're beautiful"). Go for that promotion that everyone told you, "you'll never get it". Run that race that everyone scoffed at you for even bringing up. Apply to that Grad School that is a "stretch". Do the things that you never would do, because you never know if you will get the opportunity to do them. When I look back at my last bit of time with her, I think that's the way that life was lived. Did the news that we all got in May make her do it, probably. Did that life live that way before that, maybe not. However, through her, I am living my life that way before I get that phone call or test back. I don't want to lose any more seconds of any more days in the years I have left...A wiser man than myself has told me this a thousands times and I can't argue with it:
"You miss a 100% of the shots you don't take..."
Song of the Moment: Suspended in Gaffa - Ra Ra Riot
Wow everyday I wake up and it come closer to the time for me to leave. I can't believe it. Even I'm starting to think that this is slightly ridiculous, only slightly though. Like I stated before, this makes more sense than anthing I've done in the past two years. It probably wont hit me till I step out of the airport onto african soil again. It's going to sound odd, but the feel of everything over there IS different. I don't mean the obvious things; food, people, culture, radio, television, religious beliefs, customs, etc. It's the things that seem so commonplace all around the world. The way the sun beats down on your face, the way the water feels as you cup your hands, and the way the wind blows back your hair. Besides the people and culture, those are the things that I miss about Africa. Taking those split-seconds to realize your senses aren't wrong; that something is aloof; and that nothing feels, smells, sounds, tastes, and looks the same.
My main fear/concern about living in l'Afrique for 3 months is the language barrier. For those of you that are unaware african nations don't speak only african tongues and dialects. The majority of Africa has a national language that is common in other parts of the world. The majority of countries in West Africa (where I'll be) are francophone countries. Although the population of the country does speak their tribal language, they also learn to speak french (or English in some countries and also Portuguese in a couple others). Once again America is falling behind the rest of the world in the language department. It really is sad and is something that everyone always talks about, but we need to get on the ball of making learning at least one other language a priority.
Yesterday I was in the car for an extended period of time, 5 hours to be exact. Well I wasn't in control of the radio (you know the "if you are the driver, then you get to control the music" rule/law) and this one song came on at least 5 times in that five hour period. By the the 3rd time this song came on I got the gist of the lyrics and motif behind it (didn't particularly like the song, to each his/her own though). It's an interesting concept, and I'd like to think that I tend to at least try to live like I am dying everyday. At times, I catch myself slipping on this concept and have to reel myself back in. Life is way too short not to live that way. The second all of us are conceived by our parents we start the end game clock. Only God knows when the time is up, and so we are all at a disadvantage. SO at the end of the day we should all be able to say to ourselves, as we stare up at the ceiling fan while we lay on our backs, "Hey if I don't wake up from my bed tomorrow, at least I know I gave the past X amount of years my all." So tell that girl at the bar, "You're gorgeous" (and when she doesn't hear you; don't get discouraged and say "Hey, I just want you to know you're beautiful"). Go for that promotion that everyone told you, "you'll never get it". Run that race that everyone scoffed at you for even bringing up. Apply to that Grad School that is a "stretch". Do the things that you never would do, because you never know if you will get the opportunity to do them. When I look back at my last bit of time with her, I think that's the way that life was lived. Did the news that we all got in May make her do it, probably. Did that life live that way before that, maybe not. However, through her, I am living my life that way before I get that phone call or test back. I don't want to lose any more seconds of any more days in the years I have left...A wiser man than myself has told me this a thousands times and I can't argue with it:
"You miss a 100% of the shots you don't take..."
Song of the Moment: Suspended in Gaffa - Ra Ra Riot
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Done with That, Now for This
So I finally got the last distraction out of my way before my trip to L'Afrique. A standardized test some of you may be familiar with, the GRE. I've never been a big fan of standardized tests measuring a persons aptitude to get into school. but it is what it is. Didn't do terrible, didn't do great...I did fine. But I'm digressing, and now that it is over with I don't feel like thinking about it anymore.
For of those of you that don't know, I am actually going to be volunteering in the West African nation of Senegal. More specifically I'll be living in a place that resembles Beaufort a little bit in my opinion, Saint-Louis. I'm working with a group called Projects abroad, their link is found on this blog. I'm gonna have the opportunity to work with Les Talibés. For those of you that don't know me, I've always been passionate about helping children. Especially children who can't help themselves for whatever reason (in my short life I've realized there are alot).
I have all my vaccinations as of yesterday (Typhoid, Hep A, FLU, and the important one Yellow Fever). Yellow Fever is so rampant in Western Africa that you can not travel from country to country without a Carte Jaune (Yellow Vaccination Card). This is to help control the spread of the virus not between the endemic areas (Africa and Asia), but rather to countries in the "developed" world. On a side note, the Yellow Fever shot hurt like hell 4 hours later. It literally felt like someone had been consistently slugging my arm for a good 4 hours. I also got my anti-malarials, I opted for the Doxycycline this time Holden. I'd rather do without the weird, vivid dreams. On an even more interesting side note, apparently King Tut may have died because of a bout of malaria it seems:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8516425.stm
I'm excited that I can focus more on my trip...only 9 days left...
Song of the Moment: Good Girls (Cousin Cole Remix) - Wale
For of those of you that don't know, I am actually going to be volunteering in the West African nation of Senegal. More specifically I'll be living in a place that resembles Beaufort a little bit in my opinion, Saint-Louis. I'm working with a group called Projects abroad, their link is found on this blog. I'm gonna have the opportunity to work with Les Talibés. For those of you that don't know me, I've always been passionate about helping children. Especially children who can't help themselves for whatever reason (in my short life I've realized there are alot).
I have all my vaccinations as of yesterday (Typhoid, Hep A, FLU, and the important one Yellow Fever). Yellow Fever is so rampant in Western Africa that you can not travel from country to country without a Carte Jaune (Yellow Vaccination Card). This is to help control the spread of the virus not between the endemic areas (Africa and Asia), but rather to countries in the "developed" world. On a side note, the Yellow Fever shot hurt like hell 4 hours later. It literally felt like someone had been consistently slugging my arm for a good 4 hours. I also got my anti-malarials, I opted for the Doxycycline this time Holden. I'd rather do without the weird, vivid dreams. On an even more interesting side note, apparently King Tut may have died because of a bout of malaria it seems:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8516425.stm
I'm excited that I can focus more on my trip...only 9 days left...
Song of the Moment: Good Girls (Cousin Cole Remix) - Wale
Monday, February 15, 2010
The Beginning is filled with Irony
Well, for anyone that doesn't know. I'm leaving, going away for awhile, on holiday, or whatever else you want to call it. I'm going to Africa; West Africa to be exact. For many of you that follow this, it won't make a whole lot of sense on why I am going, but for a few people that know me well enough this will make more sense than a lot of things I've done in my life. Even though I am going to volunteer over there, this is probably the most selfish thing I've done in 2 years. It's kind of ironic that this trip is going to have a lasting selfish connotation in my eyes. I had to do this for myself, because to be honest I've lost what my self is since that morning on February 3rd, 2008. The further irony is that without that important day in my life, I wouldn't have the means or drive to do the most important thing I've ever done. Although I am more excited for this than anything else that I've experienced, I'd rather not have this opportunity at all (if you don't get it, ask someone). Life is a paradoxically funny thing sometimes.
To add further incongruity to this whole trip, quest, or whatever it ends up being...I hate being alone. Yeah, yeah...I know what some of y'all are saying you're never truly alone and all that. I believe that, trust me I really do, but I still don't like not knowing anyone. Nevertheless, something tells me that this is the only way I can figure out all the things I need to (there's a lot). I've always been a big fan of meeting new people though. The main reason is because everyone looks at this life, and the next one for that matter, differently. Everyone can teach you something different about the way the world works (if you open your mind and heart enough). Aside from her, I learned the most out of life from a 4 year old boy in Soweto. He understood more about it than the majority of people I've ever met, myself included. Even though we didn't speak the same language, he taught me more in that short hour we spent together than any class or lecture I've ever attended. He didn't know he was teaching me the biggest life lesson I had received since that day in February. He will never know how much he changed my outlook on life. But for the wisdom he bestowed on me I am forever indebted to him.
For those that are worried, I know there are a few (or many), let me reassure you that I'm going to be fine. I'll be a hell of a lot better off than if I didn't end up doing this. That scares me way more than anything or anyone I might come across in Africa. I am going off the beaten path from what I've been told. However, I decided I wasn't going to shelter myself or do this with blinders on. It would take away from everything I am trying to do with this trip. Please don't worry though, I've been told that I've been blessed with not only stubbornness, but also a strong will and resilience that was bestowed upon me by her. On top of that the best compliment I have ever received from someone was that I am the living embodiment of her. If that is true, than you should all know I am going to be fine.
Well with all that being said; I don't exactly know what this blog is going to be. More than likely it will be a collage of things; culture, food, people, travel, news, pictorial essay, a story. Everyone is going to take something different away from this, and I hope everyone can find something that they enjoy. However, if you read this blog just once than take a moment to think about this:
"If you change one person's life, you change the world for that person."
Song of the Moment: Clarity - Midwest Product
To add further incongruity to this whole trip, quest, or whatever it ends up being...I hate being alone. Yeah, yeah...I know what some of y'all are saying you're never truly alone and all that. I believe that, trust me I really do, but I still don't like not knowing anyone. Nevertheless, something tells me that this is the only way I can figure out all the things I need to (there's a lot). I've always been a big fan of meeting new people though. The main reason is because everyone looks at this life, and the next one for that matter, differently. Everyone can teach you something different about the way the world works (if you open your mind and heart enough). Aside from her, I learned the most out of life from a 4 year old boy in Soweto. He understood more about it than the majority of people I've ever met, myself included. Even though we didn't speak the same language, he taught me more in that short hour we spent together than any class or lecture I've ever attended. He didn't know he was teaching me the biggest life lesson I had received since that day in February. He will never know how much he changed my outlook on life. But for the wisdom he bestowed on me I am forever indebted to him.
For those that are worried, I know there are a few (or many), let me reassure you that I'm going to be fine. I'll be a hell of a lot better off than if I didn't end up doing this. That scares me way more than anything or anyone I might come across in Africa. I am going off the beaten path from what I've been told. However, I decided I wasn't going to shelter myself or do this with blinders on. It would take away from everything I am trying to do with this trip. Please don't worry though, I've been told that I've been blessed with not only stubbornness, but also a strong will and resilience that was bestowed upon me by her. On top of that the best compliment I have ever received from someone was that I am the living embodiment of her. If that is true, than you should all know I am going to be fine.
Well with all that being said; I don't exactly know what this blog is going to be. More than likely it will be a collage of things; culture, food, people, travel, news, pictorial essay, a story. Everyone is going to take something different away from this, and I hope everyone can find something that they enjoy. However, if you read this blog just once than take a moment to think about this:
"If you change one person's life, you change the world for that person."
Song of the Moment: Clarity - Midwest Product
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
