With every loss, there is new life...

Three days ago we lost a member of our community. Though I did not know him personally, our experience created an extraordinary commonality.

He was a friend to the world.

Rest in Peace Andre Ramadan. You will be missed.

South Africa. The Paradise of the Soul.

Finally. What we've all been waiting for. The South Africa service report....from Vietnam. I must warn you, the following post is rather lengthy, but hopefully it will capture the face and beauty of South African culture and peoples to its fullest extent. I love this country so much. Nothing can ever take that passion and love away.

 

Below is a detailed description of a three-day service project that myself and four fellow students organized in Cape Town. It is a portrayal of the challenges we faced and solutions we found to overcome those obstacles. For ease of reading, I have separated the days into separate sections. As we have found out by doing our project, organization is key, but you must have room to compromise and make adjustments. This is a fact of life.

 

Before reading, I want to preface this story by saying that this project was started initially because of an SAS class we're involved with called "Service Leadership," but it quickly grew to a project based on passion and a love for helping others. It was more than just a letter grade. It was a human mission.  I take pride in what we did, and as much as words can tell a story, it will never truly reveal the feelings we had and the emotions we faced. I hope to describe it in the best of my ability.

 

Please enjoy and get lost in the human world of South Africa….

 

Monday October 4, 2010

 

This was the day I had been waiting two months for. The day we got to meet our friends at Youth For Christ (YFC), our service contacts in South Africa. That morning, we met up with Andre Harley, the volunteer coordinator at YFC. I had been in contact with Andre for about two months prior to the trip, trying to organize a service visit to a school, orphanage, and impoverished village.

 

And that's exactly what we did. That morning we met up with Andre. Dhara, Alexa, Jordan, and me. Only four of the five were there. Not knowing what Andre looked like, we were a little unclear as to how to find him. But as soon as the man walked through those doors at the Mug and Bean, it was clear who he was. A bright orange t-shirt and a large smile gave it all away. His presence comforting. His spirit true.

 

We talked with Andre for a good two hours about what we wanted to accomplish with YFC and our project. By the time our meeting was over, we had decided on three things. We'd do service work over the following three days at an elementary school, orphanage, and highly impoverished farm village. A farm village is a plot of land set-aside for the workers of various farms. It is their home, but their means are incredibly meager and hygiene is virtually non-existent. After discussing with Andre, we came up with the decision to do dental education with the children at the school and save general service for the village. The next morning Alexa, Jordan, and I would leave the comforts of the V & A Waterfront to check out our options at the school and the village. In the coming hours we would quickly realize these plans would need to change.

 

Tuesday October 5, 2010

 

Our crew left the ship (Jordan, Alexa, and myself) to meet up with Andre at 7:15 AM. Because it was such a small group, Andre drove us in his car. The ride to Vichershook Elementary was about half an hour away. That would be our first stop of the day. After talking about the truths and horrors of Apartheid, along with simple pleasures of life, such as South African soccer with Andre, we finally made it to the school. I couldn't believe my eyes upon first pulling up. It happened to be the same exact school that I had helped paint only four years prior! I was so excited be there again. Not much had changed. It is set in a beautiful landscape of flowing hills and miles of grassland waving in the wind- just as I had remembered. I was speechless, as I had no idea this was the school we'd be working in.  Talk about total déjà vu!

 

Vicshershook Elementary has about 400 children, grades kindergarten through eight and is primarily an Afrikaans speaking-school.  It is also enrolled primarily with children from various farming villages from the surrounding area. Because YFC worked out a deal to work with the fourth grade during the year, that's where we would focus our attention. This was perfect considering our (dental) resources could only support about one hundred children.

 

Upon arrival, we asked where we could help out. Class was still in session, so working with kids was out of the question. So we switched our attention to making the lunch for the school community, but there was one problem- the government supply of food had not arrived and there was no propane to cook the [missing] food.  The majority of these children rely on these lunches for daily meals. For many, it is their only meal. A terrible reality. We had to do something. Jordan and I put our heads together. We concocted a number of ideas, from getting massive amounts of bread and peanut butter all the way to bringing huge bags of pasta to be cooked up.

 

Thankfully the government supply of food came. With were fresh vegetables, fruit, spices, rice, spices, salt, and other non-perishable items. It was a total relief, but it didn't solve the dilemma of having no gas to cook the food. The next shipment was not scheduled for another three days because of school budget. Once again, we put our minds together, and figured out that a rush-delivered propane tank would cost about 320 rand ($45 USD). That was virtually nothing (to us) in the grand scheme of things. So we pooled our money together and bought a tank. Because of that, the children were going to be able to eat for about two weeks. Each tank lasts about a week, and because another one was coming in a couple days from that point, they'd have two, thus a two-week supply. Andre helped us out with coordination as well.

 

The tank came just in the nick of time. In order for all 400 kids to have a meal that day, the ladies in the kitchen would have to start cooking by 10:30 a.m. The propane tank came at exactly 10:26. Meanwhile, to expedite the process, Alexa (mostly her) and I also helped with cutting and peeling the vegetables for the meals. It was good to be there, and know that these kids would have a meal. They'd be starving without it.

 

But that's not all we did that morning. On top of sorting out the food situation, Jordan and I talked with each of the fourth grade teachers at the school and laid out our options. At first we discussed the idea of dental hygiene education, but after talking with one of the teachers, our ideas were quickly driven into the ground. The teacher said that dental education was all good and well for the children, but he emphasized the need to make these children remember us; to make what we say stick with them forever. He wanted us to share our lives with them, and "make the world a smaller place" by bring the world to them.

 

That was a huge challenge. According to the teacher, these children have never been inside a library, let alone visit a beach that is literally fifteen minutes from their house. They have no concept of what's outside their village. Jordan and I knew that we had to do something more. Something that these kids would remember, or least a message that these children would keep with them. That would be our mission. But how? Changing plans is a hard thing to do, especially when it involved a shift of this magnitude.

 

Upon hearing the teachers requests, we were inspired to truly influence these children, but had no idea where to begin. Jordan, Alexa, Andre, and I held an emergency meeting. How do we inspire these eighty children? How do we make the worlds smaller to them? Not an easy task by any means.

 

So, like the food situation, we started brainstorming in front of the school- under the shelter of trees and sitting on the little school steps.  After about five minutes, Jordan had a brilliant idea. Her idea was literally too good to be true- but we were determined to go for it. Taking the fact that school had an old (yet operable) bus, she questioned the ability to bring all 80 children to beach and have a picnic. Granted it was not necessarily inspire them to do something greater, it would still give them a new idea of the world. They'd get an idea of something different. Like I said before, most of these children had never been to the beach before, though it's right down the road from their homes. They'd remember that day probably for the rest of their lives. It's almost like the first time you see snow… if you're from San Jose, California of course. Quite a memorable event.

 

We were determined to do this. As the clock kept spinning in our heads, we envisioned the whole thing working out perfectly. The kids would all be able to go. The bus firmly fitting eighty (yeah, pretty fricken big bus) and us chaperones would ride separately. We'd make the standard PB and J the night before, get juice boxes, buy oranges, and other snacks. We'd also get a couple soccer balls for the whole event. It all clicked together flawlessly within our heads. It was going to happen. Andre loved the idea, and was hopeful it'd work out.

 

But with every good idea, there is a counter idea.

 

Unfortunately, South African law would not allow something of this magnitude to be arranged within two days. Our plan was to make this happen Thursday, October 7. After speaking with the principal, we were told that we were two months to late for this. Literally within the past few months, the South African government has cracked down on last-minute school fieldtrips. The reason being the legitimacy of transport services.  According to the principal, a number of students have been killed over the past few years because of illegitimate transportation methods. A horrific reality.

 

So that was out of the question. Move on to plan b? There was no plan b. So what the hell do we do now? That was something that picked at our brains for the next couple hours. Andre rationalized that we should leave the school, reflect on what he had just seen and heard, and make a decision within the coming hours. And that's exactly what we did. Our next stop was the farm village.

 

Driving about twenty minutes from the school, and down a long dirt road lie a small community composed mostly of young mothers, children, and a few day-working fathers. The community was composed of about 90 people, most of which were children. When we got there the settlement didn't look like much of a village at all, in fact it looked like a continuation of the Danoon Township that we passed getting there. The only things that gave these people shelter were corrugated metal roofs and aluminum walls, all built around one small concrete building. The village was a mess. Trash littered the ground everywhere along shacks and the only source of water came from a single tap on the outer edge of the village. Even that was questionable. The water less than desirable.

 

The first life form we saw was a dog, waiting at the village's edge and barking as our car strolled through. Our second sign of life was a mother and her young child. The mother had nearly all of her teeth missing. Her baby, filthy. A terrible sight to witness. It was at that point we new our hygiene and dental education efforts needed to be thrown in the village's direction. They needed help. That much was clear, but they also needed to know how to help themselves. That would soon become our mission.

 

Going from home to home, we saw similar images. Mothers holding their babies, dogs running rampant, young children playing barefoot, and even naked. This was our introduction. Heart-breaking.

 

But of course we were viewed with as much intrigue as we did them. The entire village seemed to make subtle efforts to see our presence. Though we did not speak directly to a number of the community members, it was clear that our visit was viewed with interest. At the time of our visit, we met this incredibly interesting (to say the least) man named Gary. Gary is a man from England who moved to South Africa to form a community soccer league for the village. Knowing the director of YFC in South Africa, Gary got his "in" that way.

 

Gary talked with us for a good twenty minutes about his mission, his goals, and view on life. On top of that we got his life story. The man was originally a drug and alcohol addict and went to rehab for some time before realizing that his life should be about improving that of others. He claims that this is where God put him now, and this was his mission. He wouldn't be in the position he was today if it wasn't for God. Though parts of Gary were questionable, but I did get this idea from him- a very simple yet powerful truth of the world. Gary said that people from the Western world tends to come into these areas and label them as "sad or tragic," but Gary's point is that this is the reality of life. This is simply how people live elsewhere in the world. It's just a different reality, and people have adjusted and simply figured out how to make it work. It's the diversity of human life. Don't judge it. Just see it for what it is.  

 

I think this is a great way of looking at the world. People live the way they live. Good or bad, it simply is. That's all there is to it.

 

That same day, the village community slaughtered a cow. Luckily we were there in time to see it butchered and hacked to pieces. I've never seen anything that up-close and personal. But as brutal as it was, the story behind the cow is a hopeful one. Whenever a cow (belonging to the farm owner) dies during birthing, the village community receives the cow for consumption. On top of this, the farm owner gives the community one cow per month. It's a pretty solid deal, and the community utilizes every last part of the cow. It goes a long, long way.

 

Shortly after the butchering experience, we left the village, still pondering what we were going to do for our project at the school. Andre treated us to a late lunch at a place in downtown Cape Town. We experience that which are "Gatsbys." Gatsbys are gigantic sandwiches (usually meant to feed about 4 people wholesomely) filled with egg, steak, french-fries, cheese, and a special sauce. The thing is literally served on a baguette. I've never had anything more delicious in my life, and my heart had never felt so good. It was delicious. Something only God could have only created. It seriously was. An act of God.

 

But that's just a miniscule part of our entire experience in South Africa. Following the feast, Andre drove the three of us back to the MV. We said good-bye and wished him well until we saw him the next day. We all knew that we had to think of something fast. It was our mission to make the world smaller for these children.

 

So Jordan and I got to thinking. We met poolside, Deck 7. What was there to do other than dental education? How could be deviate entirely from that to make the world smaller, and these kids' dreams bigger? Well, Jordan thought for a little while and eventually came up with a fantastic idea.

 

A leadership clinic! For a number of these kids, all hope was lost. There was virtually little to nothing worth living for. For them, nothing really mattered. Self-worth was gone. So that's where Jordan felt we could make a difference- through individual leadership training. That was the name of our class, was it not? It's our specialty. It's our goal.

 

So we went with it. From team building to organizing small group discussions, we ran with it. But part of our project should also deal with sustainability. How can we truly make what do stick with these kids and last for a while?

 

Well that's where handy-dandy technology comes into play. I proposed the idea of filming our meeting with the children and then sending the footage (and eventually a completed film) of the event. If you know anything about children, they love seeing themselves on camera- especially these children. The camera is so foreign to them, but video is out of this world. That's how we could make a difference. Because we could make a digital copy of our activities and time with the children, they could view their faces and actions for years to come. It would be field day for may of the children.

 

Well. That was the idea we were going to work with. Leadership and video- almost like a bus to the beach. But not quite. We both proposed this to the group, and all was a go. Everyone approved.

 

That night was just one more night at Mitchell's and a couple Ol' Wobblies later, and I was ready to hit the next day running.  

 

 

Wednesday October 6, 2010

 

Now this was our fun day. Our group had absolutely no obligations until around 2 that day. So what did I do? I searched for internet in the mall. Found it. Bought stuff. The usual.

 

But finally 2:00 PM rolled around. This is honestly what I have been waiting for ever since I found out we were going back to South Africa. SOS Children's Village. The orphanage where I fell in love with 90 children four years ago.

 

Knowing that we were going back, and knowing the greatness of this orphanage, I arranged to bring a large group to the orphanage for just a simple service visit. Nothing special. Just playing with the kids. Andre picked us all up in a minibus, which essentially a large van that can carry about 13 people. And that's what we had. Thirteen individuals from the MV Explorer, all ready to play with the kids. I was very excited to get this many people going to SOS Children's Village.

 

But before getting to the village, Andre brought us through a township- something not a lot of outsiders ever get to experience. Though we could not exit the vehicle, we still saw the reality of the situation from the van. The streets within the townships are narrow and designed in such a way to keep the city within a grade. On either side of the road lie the shacks- miles and miles of them. Stores. Shops. Garages. Homes. Everything a city has to offer, except each structure is in a 7 X 7 plot of land. And in these structures are human beings having to deal with the harsh realities of no running water and little to no sanitation. Children run unattended. Shop keepers struggle to keep afloat. It's a tough. There is no doubt about that.

 

And the literal structure and grid of the streets? It was designed that way. According to Andre, the townships formed during apartheid were created with only one or two exits. This was a key part of control. It gave the whites the upper hand. A visual reminder of the horrors that consumed this beautiful country less than twenty years ago.

 

But as bad as it all looks, it's not necessarily what you make it out to be. One would think that everyone didn't not choose to be there. But that's not necessarily the case. According to Andre a number of people choose to live in the townships today because it was cheap. You would never see a white person living in the townships, but a wealthy black man might still be living there. A number of higher-end vehicles could be found within the townships simply because the cost of living was so cheap. Public housing existed, but the stipulations with that were greater than the cost of living in a tin shack. A plot of land within the township costs $300. After that, no other property fees or taxes are to be paid. Once initial costs are handed over to the government, the land is free to do as you please. That's what makes living in a township so (surprisingly) attractive.

 

So it's not all bad, but it's definitely not good.  Segregation is still very much alive, and townships are a living reminder of that.

 

After seeing the realities of South African poverty on a grander scale, Andre drove us to SOS Children's Village. The closer we got to the orphanage, the more familiar the surrounding area became. SOS Children's Village is an orphanage set within a fairly nice area, so I knew that we were getting close as houses transformed from tin shacks to pretty white walls and roofs. The security systems long the edge of the houses' fences didn't give it way either. Just kidding.

 

It was blast from the past when we strolled into the orphanage. I remember everything as if it was yesterday. The main gate was opened, a community center lie to right and SOS homes to the right. In the middle lie a playground and small elementary school. My heart leapt with joy.

 

As soon as we rolled in, the kids in the playground realized our presence. At first timid, these kids screamed with joy as Cody ran at them and pretended to be a big scary monster. Elation crossed all of their faces. There were thirty of them and thirteen of us. Slightly over 2 to 1, not bad. I liked those odds.

 

For nearly an hour our group played with these children. Soccer, tag, and even wrestling. We did it all. Everyone joined in the fun. But most of these kids were daycare students though. Their parents picked them up at night. We still had yet to meet the orphanage children- the one thing I had been waiting most to do. I wondered if I would recognize any of them.

And sure enough, I did.

 

When we got done playing with the daycare children, it was time to head into the actual orphanage. As we made our way to the village, we were immediately swarmed by children. I looked around, hugged each of them one by one. I didn't put much mind to it. But then I saw him.

 

Amongst all the children, one stood out from the rest. It was Roger, the child that I had met and become friends with four years ago. I couldn't believe my eyes. This child had made it into at least half of my photos of the SOS Children's Village the last time around. I had practically become his older brother in a period of two days. I never forgot that face. Now, he was in front of me again. It was too good to be true it seemed. But it wasn't. It was true.

 

Upon first sight I looked at him, and exclaimed, "Roger?!" He looked up. I knew it was him, but he didn't know it was me. You could tell there was some confusion in his eyes. He wasn't sure who I was at first, but then I explained who I was. I said that I was at SOS Children's Village four years ago, and that he and I played soccer together. I told him of the picture we took with him on my shoulders. I told him about all our adventures on the jungle gym. And most importantly, I told him of my good high school friend Talia and her relationship with his sister Kathleen. Like Roger and I, Kathleen and Talia formed a special bond. As soon as I mentioned Kathleen, he immediately knew what I was talking about, and he rushed into my arms.

 

It was like a scene out of a movie; a priceless moment usually captured only in storybooks. I didn't imagine that happening. I was not prepared for that at all. I was blown away. I still am.

 

But our little gang couldn't have been complete without the help of Kathleen, Roger's house sister. After inquiring about Kathleen's whereabouts, Roger got a gigantic grin and dragged me to Village House #14. The SOS Children's Village is just that. A small, gated village composed of sixteen houses, where each house is home to roughly nine orphaned children, all acting as each other's siblings. The children range from anywhere from age two to eighteen. There is also a volunteer housemother that takes the responsibilities of a "real" mother. She feeds them, she clothes them, she raises them. It is a family of different backgrounds and stories, but a family still connected by love and compassion.

 

Roger dragged me through House #14. I chose to stop at one point. I didn't want to seem as the intruder. Behind doorway and wall stood the housemother. Roger explained the situation to her (that I was a distant friend), and that I wished to see Kathleen. After hearing Roger's testimony, the housemother came out and greeted me. She mentioned that Kathleen was in the house, but not feeling too well. She had a stomach bug- or so they thought. Bless her heart. 

 

I told the housemother that I wouldn't stay long and that I only wanted to peak my head in to see my long-lost 8-year-old friend. Granting my wish, the housemother brought me into the other room, and sure enough, there she was. Kathleen. Looking just as she did four years ago. She was sitting on the couch and watching some TV program. I immediately went into the room to explain who I was. Like Roger, a large grin soon spread across her face. She remembered me, but most of all, she remembered us.

 

The only person missing from this equation was Talia. At that moment, I would've given anything for Talia to have been there. The four of us. Back again and ready to take down the world. Kathleen and Talia had a tight bond, especially since it was formed over two days. It was exactly like Roger and me.

 

As weird as it sounds- we rolled together in 2006. For two days. Just the four of us. I remember it as if it was yesterday.

 

Kathleen's housemother said that Kathleen could play only when Kathleen felt that she was feeling better. Kathleen had the choice, and of course, she was quickly "feeling much better" to play at that point. So Kathleen's housemother gave her permission to play. After that, it was off to the races for Kathleen, Roger, and myself. The whole situation was unreal. Once again, we all had an instant connection. The kids were all over me, wanting me to play with them in every game imaginable. Jungle gym adventures, soccer mayhem, tag, chase, and even wrestling. We did it all. Just the three of us.

 

But then it was time to join the rest of the SAS group. I should have bee on a tour of the village with them, but Roger brought me away to see things behind the scene, and most of all to go see Kathleen. It was a blast from the past. The houses. The soccer fields. The playgrounds. The basketball courts. Even the community center. I remembered all of it. In the terrible and hypothetical circumstance of me being an orphan, this is where I would want to be. It is an incredible organization that ensures the safety of the community and the lifetime enrichment of the individual child.

 

Roger, Kathleen, and I rejoined the group, and it was clear the entire village had taken notice of our visit. The kids were out of their houses playing and engaging with our groups. Smiles were all around. The spirit was lifted and at its max. It was good to be back there again, and I'm happy we brought the large group. It was a simple visit, but it meant the world to the children.

 

The entire group played together for a while and then we were all corralled into the community center. There we played a number of community building activities. We played the lifeboat game, Simon Says, and even a "community beat" game where everyone had to contribute to a musical rap by rhyming with the words of the person next to them. That was really tough. It took some real work to remember that "Joe" also rhymes with "toe." It was pretty pathetic on my part, but the kids were great at it! That was pretty cool to watch, and listen to for that matter. 

 

On top of the games, the community leaders (one of which was only fifteen), led a discussion on the concept of leadership and monuments. I was touched by this. In many ways it gave the kids a chance to see outside the box, to truly dive into their beliefs. I like that. You could tell the wheels were spinning in the heads of the these children when we discussed the topics.

 

After that whole session, it was about time head back to the ship. It was pretty hard to say goodbye to Roger and Kathleen. Like last time, they were pretty bummed that we were leaving. But I promised them I'd be back. I made a promise last time, and that promise was made good. I will be back again. One way or another, I'll be back. And I hope it will be soon.

 

It is refreshing to fully realize that the world is small after all. Seeing Roger and Kathleen helped me with that.

 

…

 

The thirteen of us got back in the van, and of course, luck would have it that the van would not start. Andre tried and tried for twenty minutes, but the engine would not turn over. So we sat in the SOS parking lot quietly, pondering our options. Andre still trying to start the car, but to no avail. Then someone had the idea to push start it. As crazy as it sounded, that idea could possibly work. The van had manual transmission. It worked in the seventies, so why not give it a try in the new millennium?

 

So Cody, Dallas, Drew, I, and a couple of the other guys got out to attempt the push. Sure enough, it worked. The engine turned right over. It was a sound for soar ears. That's for sure. We were extatic that the car was working again- but not for long.

 

As we were flying down the free way at 70 MPH the van decided to stop working. The engine shut right off. Luckily Andre was able to safely bring us to the side of the freeway. Flashers were on, but the van was not. For about an hour the thirteen of us sat on the side of the road waiting for the mechanic. Meanwhile, about four police officers came to our assistance to direct traffic. They were perhaps the most kind and understanding officers I had ever meant. They were there to keep us safe, and that they did. We were grateful they came to our aid.

 

At this point, the sun had already fallen below the horizon and darkness was quickly pouring in. It was about 7:30 PM. Finally the mechanic arrived and did something to the electrical system to make it start again. Though it was a relief, we were all hoping to get back to the ship as soon as possible. The reliability of this van was questionable to say the least. I could tell Andre was feeling the same. Nervous and anxiety-ridden. He also had a wife one-week-old baby at home to get back to. This was the last place he wanted to be.

 

By 8 PM we finally reached the ship. It was a total relief. We were all happy to be back. We said goodbye to Andre and wished him the best. We boarded the Explorer and set sights for the next morning. The day we had all been waiting for. It was the "big game" or our project. This is where it all came together.

 

Leadership. That was the name of the game.

 

 

Thursday October 7, 2010

 

Alexa, Meg, Jordan, Dhara and I were all set to go. Our bags packed, gear ready. We were at the pick-up spot at exactly 8:00 AM, awaiting Andre's arrival. Then five minutes turned into fifteen, then fifteen into thirty, and thirty into forty-five. Andre was nowhere to be found, and we didn't have a cell phone to reach him. Cody had it because he was helping to organize the service group in the afternoon.

 

Fearing the worst, we hoped for the best and waited. I got a coffee and muffin in the meantime. Finally, after about an hour of waiting, two cars flew into the taxi area. They clearly had their sights set on us. As they pulled up, they said they were from Youth For Christ and looking for a group about our size. These were our people.

 

We threw our gear into the cars and drove off. Our driver, Edmond, explained the whole situation to us. Of course, the van was inoperable as of this morning and Andre could not come get us, so he rushed the two YFC volunteers to pick us up. Because it was so late, Edmond warned that we might not be able to get to Vicshershook Elementary in time to make our presentation. Because of the circumstances, we would have to go to the YFC office first, and then proceed to the school. All hope was not lost though. Edmond was hopeful we could still make it in time.

 

And sure enough, we did. We ended up going to the office and picking up some of the other volunteers. They would going with us to the school. Thankfully traffic was not too bad and we were able to get there just in the nick of time. So did Andre! HE got to the school with the bus right around the same time we did. It was fate.

 

There were about six of the YFC volunteers with us that day. All were from different parts of the world. There were a couple local South Africans, and some from the UK and Germany. IT was cool to be able to work with them. I love interacting with people from other countries.

 

After two hours of freak out time, we were finally ready to do our thing. With school supplies in hand, we walked through the school's gate into the small courtyard. From there you could access almost half of the classes. After giving the school supplies to the principal our group went into the first fourth-grade classroom. There were about forty kids in the room. The room was very modest, much smaller than what we have in the United States. I was relieved to see that kids had basic supplies such as pencils and notebooks, but the other essentials were lacking. The posters on the wall were dated, the windows old and smudgy, and a single quarter-inch piece of chalk lay on the tray below the board.  To give you some perspective, I had thirty-six kids in my fourth grade class. This class had forty, and the classroom's size was about a quarter of the size of mine. It was cramped. It was stuffy. But it was also alive it was spirit.

 

Who are these strangers? What do they want? You could tell that was the question being asked in every one of their heads. That's where Trevor comes in handy. Trevor is a YFC volunteer who is frequent in Afrikaans and also works with these children on a regular basis. So he gave them the lowdown as to what we were doing there. He said our mission was leadership. To instill in them an idea of something greater. A picture of the world.

 

Before we started the presentation, Trevor had the class sing to us. To me, that is one of the most beautiful experiences on the planet. Hearing children sing out of joy. I can never get enough of it. It brings laughter and a smile to my face every time.

 

WRITNG BREAK

 

I'd like to take this time to describe the scene where I'm writing right now. I currently sit on the seventh deck of the MV Explorer, directly in front of the Glazer Lounge. It is located near the bow of the ship, it's as close to the front as I can get. I am completely secluded. No other humans around.

 

The air is warm and moist, and the wind blows briskly across my face. I can hear it whistle as it blows through the different nooks and crannies of the equipment above. The ocean laps up against the ship. I feel like I am in Hawaii. It is the sound of the beacue, but I am really in the middle of nowhere. We have our coordinates set on Vietnam.

 

I sit on the deck and my back is against the wall. The only that separates me from falling into the deep blue water is ten feet of floor and a three foot tall railing. Like Jack, I am the king of the world. I am the (young) man of the sea.

 

WRITING CONTINUED

 

After the children sang to our group, it was time for us begin our lesson. To start things off, we each prepared a slide about ourselves. We wanted to connect to them by showing us who we were, where we came from, and where we've been. We showed them pictures of our lives.  I showed pictures of my family and my adventures to different parts of the world. The children particularly liked seeing pictures of our fishing adventures in Alaska. That was something completely new to them. A halibut was out of this world to them.

 

That went over quite well, and the kids were truly interested in what our lives were like. When Jordan said she was from Kentucky in the United States the children immediately leapt for joy and started laughing. We knew immediately why. Kentucky Fried Chicken. All the kids wanted to know if she had anything to do with that. It lightened the mood a bit. It was nice to have broken the ice like that.

 

Once we were done with giving the kids a look into our lives, it was time for the fun begin. We talked with the children about leadership and teamwork. What was it? Who was a leader in their lives? How do they work together on things? We went over all of it. Then we went outside, broke into four groups of ten and did team building activities. Each of us SAS students took a group. We worked with them on defining on what leadership was, did inter-group games that involved teamwork (such as the trust fall), and ended with the ultimate game of intellect and group coordination.

 

Two nights before our project at the school, Jordan and I found a website that detailed different team building activities. I feel we hit the jackpot. Please read on!

 

THE GAME (TEAM BUILDING)

 

1) The game involved four teams (perfect for us), and it was competition based. In the game, each team was given on hula hoops. Imagining a basketball court, each team and their hula-hoops were in each of the four corners of the court.  Each team had its own corner. At center court was a lone hula-hoop; within the center hula-hoop lie twelve balls.

 

2) At the start of the game, each team waits at their own hula-hoop (at the corner of the court). When the ref gives the signal, the teams rush to the center to grab the beanbags.

 

3) The objective of the game is to get all of the beanbags into all of the hula-hoops.

 

As can be expected, complete pandemonium erupts and kids push, pull, run, and grab to get all the balls into their own hula-hoop. It's complete chaos, but also complete fun. The kids had a blast! Strategies were formed and alliances made against other teams.

 

But this was not the objective of the game.

 

Of course, the kids misunderstood the instructions. The instructions were to get ALL of the beanbags into ALL of the hula-hoops. Easily confusing when the kids are amped on adrenaline. So after five minutes of craziness, we brought the group into the center to explain what we wanted to accomplish. We proposed the question to them again. How do we get all of the beanbags into all the hula-hoops? It was a tough question. Hard to think about. Many kids offered solutions, but none that involved every team winning. We were looking for a "win-win" solution for everyone. How can everyone get the beanbags in their hula-hoops? This is where you need to think outside the box… or hoop in this case.

 

The solution, though seemingly complicated is very simple. The instructions never mentioned that you could not move your own hula-hoop. Reader, before I give you the answer, do you know how you can do it?

 

PAUSE FOR SOLUTION FORMATION IN READER'S HEAD.

 

Well, you simply stack the hula-hoops on top of each other and place the beanbags within all the hula-hoops.

 

It's as simple as that.

 

ALLOW TIME FOR READER'S MIND TO BE BLOWN.

 

So what does this teach? Well it is an example of a lot of things. First of all, it's an example of strategy. You must use your brain to come to this solution. Also, it inspires teamwork and coordination because you are forced to include everyone for a "win-win" situation. Everyone is a part of the solution.

 

Our goal was to exemplify leadership and show that everyone has a role. It is possible for more than one leader to be formed. After the session, we came in and talked about leadership. We also discussed the concept of self-confidence and how important it is when following your dreams.

 

That was just the first group. We had another forty children coming our way after the thirty-minute "interval" period. We learned a lot from our first group and changed a number of things during our second presentation. Our biggest change came in splitting into groups. We did that off the back, and made an effort to engage the children on an individual level. We found out who their leaders were. For many, it was their mother. She was their leader. She was their caregiver. She was their hero.

 

Most of these children lack a bright future. For most, township life is the only thing ahead of them. We wanted to change that, and give them hope and confidence that they really can achieve their dreams. After speaking with the children, it seemed that a number of them wanted to be doctors, teachers, and even police officers. And you know why they answered this way? Because they wanted to help people. That was their answer. These are children who literally live on the edge of starvation every day, and they want to give back to help others in the future.

 

That is so profound to me. We come from a country where everything is served to us on a silver platter, and the only thing we can think of is money, sex, nice cars, and large houses. These children get it. They want to live a life dedicated to the service of others, not solely dedicated to the service of themselves.

 

I wish I could have half of that mentality. It's beautiful. That's what humanity should strive for.

 

So that's what we worked on. Personal empowerment. I feel that we did get these children thinking about the possibility of a brighter future. They can live their dream if they work at it. They have the power. A number of South Africans are making their dreams a reality.

 

Soon after our presentation, we left the school and headed back to the ship to pick up students for round 2 of the day. As I mentioned before, I filmed all of our activities at the school, so they will be able to watch themselves for years to come.

 

The six of us (Andre included) were feeling hungry prior to getting to ship, so we decided to pick up something quick. And what does every American eat when they're hungry? McDonald's of course. So that's what we did. We stopped at McDonald's. I ordered a McFeast (whatever that is) and the rest of the ladies ordered fries and chicken McNuggets. I couldn't have felt prouder. Talk about personal empowerment. Not.

 

Finally, we picked our group at 2:30 PM.  The van was repaired and the second group was ready to go. We were set. Piling fourteen (in total) people into the van, we made our way to the village. The plan was to meet Gary, the soccer coach for 3:00 PM practice. Our hope was to have our group scrimmage the village boys.

 

Arriving a bit early, we had time interact with the people from the village. Like our first visit two days prior, there were a number of children who wanted to check us out. One boy in particular struck a particular fancy with us, practically playing pika-boo with Jen, Cameron, and me. I sweet child. Bless his heart.

 

Other children ran amongst us. Most looked as if they hadn't had a bath in weeks. Their hair knotted and their skin pressed with dirt. Their mothers watched from a distance but were reluctant to come meet with us. A bit later, my friend Cameron and I decided to break from the pack and go into the back of the village. There we found one of the most beautiful babies on earth. A sweet child who did not make a sound. A butterfly would be jealous of her tranquility and grace. She was gorgeous. The baby's mother was quiet, yet seemed remarkably comforted by our presence. She knew we meant no harm. I will never forget how mother and her child both looked into our eyes. It was a defining moment of our time there.

 

Meanwhile, the boys started to get practice rolling. Gary had shown and it was time to get the party started. Gary first wanted us to sit back and watch his coaching style, but it quickly turned into a pick-up game between twenty incredibly gifted South Africans and ten terrible American tourists. They ran us up and down the field.

 

But I shouldn't cut ourselves short. Our guys did a hell of a job. And when I say guys, I also mean women! Cameron and Liz, two girls who traveled with us that day gave the South African boys a run for their money. They were good,  and by the end of it, the boys wanted them on their village team. It was a very cool thing to watch. Total skill! I was impressed. We all were. (There are pictures of Facebook documenting this)

 

At this point, you're probably wondering how this community had a field. Well, amazingly, Gary actually organized to get this basic plot of grassland cleaned up and prepared for regulation soccer. At each end he nailed three wooden poles together to create goal posts. On the field, he used chalk to make the field lines. It looked rough, but it had character. The field was located just in front of the village less than twenty yards. A perfect location for the community.

 

I tried my chances with the game. No chance in hell I was going to make it through in one piece. Those kids were vicious! And soccer has never been my thing. So I went back to my photography and snapped some pics of the kids playing soccer. It was a great way to end the day.

 

As time went on, we knew it was time to call it a day. The sun was beginning to set and the children were due at supper. It was at that time we presented the One World Football to Andre and Gary. These soccer balls were designed for the One World Soccer Project, a project headed by the creator of Crocs Shoes and Sting. Made out of Crocs material, the balls are regulation size, and they are indestructible. That's right. Indestructible. The idea behind the project is a buy one give one. People in the States and elsewhere buy one of these balls, and one is given to an impoverished community in the rest of the world. The idea is that these balls will last within the communities for years to come, and trash and deflated balls will never have to be used as soccer balls again. It's a remarkable program that has brought joy to hundreds of people, and it's only getting better.

 

Rocky and Shawn Rohwedder (both passengers on the ship) heard of the project on television and knew they had to be a part of it. Seizing the opportunity to go around the world with Semester at Sea, they capitalized on the experience by signing up with One World to help distribute the balls on the voyage. So far, thirty balls have been handed out on the voyage by different service groups. There are about ten more to be distributed.

 

When handing over the ball, the presentation was ceremonial. Shawn and Rocky made me promise to give it to the "head" of the village. The point is that it is for the community, and not for a young child to claim it as his own. And that's what we did. Andre was the man to keep the ball. He would be its protector, its faithful guardian.

 

Soon after, it was time to do what we had initiated long before. Dental education. This is where all of our hard work and donations would pay off. Gathering the community (at least of those who wanted to show up), we brought group to the local water tap. It was a spickit located at the back of the village. Its quality was questionable, but it's what they used. We had to make the most of it.

 

While there, we handed out the dental supplies, almost one hundred toothbrushes and fifty toothpaste tubes in total to the village. Our group of fourteen SAS students and YFC volunteers also grabbed some toothbrushes and demonstrated the proper way of brushing teeth. We did it with the community. Over sixty people (at that time) brushing their teeth together. I've never scene such a hygienic event. It was cool, and the best part was, the children were excited to be doing it. We laughed all they way through the two-minute brush sesh. I couldn't stop laughing. We had a blast doing it.

 

And what was even more rewarding was to see how thankful these people were to be given the supplies. It was like Christmas morning for them. Even the mothers were ecstatic to be given the supplies. I never thought I'd see the day where someone would be that excited over a toothbrush. I felt good to do what we did. It's one of the best feelings in the world.

 

Even the YFC volunteers were excited to receive the items. There was just enough for the village. We couldn't have done it without the help of all the great students who donated supplies to our cause. We owe all of it to them.

 

As the day slowly slipped into night, our group said our goodbyes and got our gear together with our bags much lighter than when we came. It was time to go home. Thankfully we got home safely. No car troubles. No wild escapades this time. It was a great way to end a crazy three days. Everything went off better than expected. We did work, but we did good work.

 

I was proud of us, but most of all, I was proud of Andre. We couldn't have done it without him. He was our guiding light and made everything possible. I wish him the best as his father years unfold.

 

For the sake of letting you guys taking a break from my blog, I will end with this paragraph. For as long as I live, South Africa will remain one of my favorite countries in the world. I said that in 2006, and I say that now. In fact, that conviction is even stronger now. I will go back. I have made that commitment. I hope to see my new friends again. Until then, I wish them the best.

 

Thanks so much for dealing with my tardiness (as it is literally one month late), and thanks for dealing with my long writing. I hope you enjoyed it.

 

Peace, love, and happiness to all. Go Giants. That'a way G-MEN! 

Get 'em G-Men.

GET EM G-MEN. CAN SOMEBODAY SAYY SSSSSSSSWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP?!!!! GET SOME.

BOOM.

Over and out. Peace, love, and happiness to all (especially the Giants)

On Top of the World

Well. Here it is. The blog for the most beautiful country in the world. The Country that brought the World together in the summer of 2010 with the FIFA World Cup.

South Africa.  A mysterious yet enchanted country full of wonder, culture, and hope.

Finally. The blog is here.

I apologize for the long, long wait, but midterms, sickness, and other obligations have prohibited this writing from making it to the public domain. But now that I am here in this position, over a week after leaving Cape Town, I don’t really know where to begin. I’ll do my best to recap our incredible journey and efforts during our short time in the greatest country in the world.

I guess I’ll start off by saying this: For those who don’t know, I’ve had the privilege of visiting South Africa before, and it’s essence and brilliance has stuck with me since then. In June of 2006, I traveled with about thirty classmates and teachers to South Africa through an immersion program with Archbishop Mitty High School, my alma mater. We visited both Johannesburg and Cape Town, and we volunteered our time at children’s hospitals, AIDS orphanages, and various impoverished communities. It is because of that trip that I attribute my open worldview and longing to see the world. It was a trip of a lifetime and I am so thankful to have been able to go back. Being able to do it again truly is a gift from God. I am so lucky.  

That’s why I feel the way I do about South Africa. You may call it bias, I call it truth. It is a country that will resonate at my core forever. It is ingrained in my memory. I’ll always have a connection with it. Deep down, I think we all do. After all, it is the cradle of civilization, is it not? It is the birthplace of human life. We are all from Africa.

Semester at Sea was docked at the Cape Town V and A Waterfront from October 3rd  to the 8th. It’s hard to believe that we have already come and gone, but c’est la vie. So is life. I will do my best to recap the experience from start to finish. At the moment, however, this post only recounts the first day. The rest is still to come. It was the heart of our time in South Africa. Bare with me as the next post comes, but enjoy this nonetheless. It is a slight glimpse of South Africa’s natural beauty. 

The following is a recount of our trip up Table Mountain, a hike into the clouds. A walk in the sky.

(I’d also like to preface this story by saying that Dallas, Cody, and I consumed an entire  boerworse, fries and pint of 11% lager prior to climbing the mountain at Mitchell’s Pub in Cape Town. How grand of a decision that was.)

On the morning of October 3, I joined a small crew on a journey up one of the most incredible and magnificent mountains God could ever create. Jutting out from the surface of Cape Town, Table Mountain touches the sky with grace and brilliance. Coined the name Table Mountain, it literally looks like a gigantic table made of rock, planted randomly in the middle of the ocean city, and surrounded on three sides by water. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It can be seen for miles and miles around.

Riding the cable car in 2006, I knew I had to conquer this thing by foot this time around. So that’s why I joined Olivia, Jill, Dallas, Cody, Morgan, Emily, Tracy, Cassie, and Hannah on the hike up. Apparently we took the “easy” trail. To me that was a total fallacy as it was literally two hours up a completely flat rock, but whatever. I’m a better man because it.

But in all seriousness, it was challenging yet totally rewarding experience. I’ve never really done a hike of that caliber before. We were proud of ourselves for making it up. Though there were trails moving through ravines and on the sides of rock faces, a lot of it involved climbing up small ledges and boulders. There was always a new obstacle around every corner, but I loved it.

Finally, we made it up Table Mountain. It was up there that I felt the closer to Heaven than I’ve ever felt before. Our plan was to hike up and take the tram down, but that plan was slashed real quick. On our ascent, the world famous “table cloth” settled early over the summit. Similar to the San Francisco fog bank, the table cloth is a layer of clouds that quickly envelope the mountain and cover only the top. Thus, table cloth. It is an anomaly that makes the mountain famous worldwide.

As beautiful as this scene is from afar, it can put a damper on of any hopes of getting a tram down the mountain. Because of the extreme wind and clouds, we were forced to hike back down the mountain. But I am thankful we did. We were able to walk within the clouds. Surrounded on all sides, we could barely see ten feet in front of us. It was a scene from a movie. The air moist and soft, strong gusts hitting the face every few seconds. It was turbulence on foot. I never thought I’d see the day where’d I’d be walking and touching the clouds without the help of a floating hunk of metal. Because it was so cloudy, however, we could not make our way around the top of the mountain. Our group stayed localized in one position. We were warned that any venturing on the top of the mountain would inevitably lead to getting lost. We didn’t want to take any chances. I wanted to be back for free dinner on the ship. It was already 3:30 at this point.

Now, Table Mountain is known for its incredible views (particularly the view of the Indian Ocean meeting the Atlantic), but I wasn’t upset. I’ve been there before. This was almost more worth it. It was a spiritual experience. I was in touch with the environment, forced to use four of the five senses. Sound, touch, taste, and smell. Sight was rendered useless up there.

We made the trek down at around 4:30. Emily and I trailed the group and went our own way down. Our own pace. Our own trail. Our own leisure. Almost two hours later we were back at the taxi that was ready to bring us home. 

A group of us went back to Mitchell’s, had ourselves a massive steak dinner, three Ol’ Wobbly’s, and then headed back to the ship for a good’s night’s rest. Big plans in the morning. We were finally going to be meeting Andre from Youth For Christ. Our contact. Our friend.

I will save the details of our service project for another post. That was the greatest part of it all. Helping those with the least, giving ourselves to make their life slightly easier. More to come.

Peace, love, and happiness to all…..

Waka, Waka. This Time For Africa!

As Shakira so eloquently put it, "Waka, Waka. This time for Africa!"

We're here in Cape Town, South Africa- the origin of humanity and the most beautiful place in the world. It's good to be back. Memories are flying back.

More news to come.Table Mountain awaits....

I Am Because We Are

I am because you are.

These are the words of Ubuntu, a South African word reciting the importance and significance of human connection. Though the word is South African in origin, it is an important term that spans across the continent of Africa. After experiencing Ghana, I am fully aware of what these words actually mean.

As a human race, we are truly connected. The effects of every action we take influences the person next to us, and then they in turn influence the person next to them, and so forth. We are built upon the efforts and sacrifices of others, and to deny that would be to deny humanity. We truly need each other.

Imagine a world where there was no human connection. No smiles. No hugs. No laughs. No words at all.

Would it be possible to survive? Don’t count on it.

The people of Ghana rely on this human connection for survival. All humans need an emotional connection with others, the only difference is, the people of Ghana are conscious of this connection. Everything they do, from the shops they keep to the families they raise, Ghanaians work together to make life bearable in the most dire of circumstances.

Poverty runs rampant in the country, with the divisions of wealth being so apparent that even a struggling man in the United States would be forced to cringe. Everything is brought into reality when a young Ghanaian girl, not much older than 4 years of age follows you for twenty minutes around the streets, begging you to buy her small supply of red peppers for less than a dollar. She is shoeless. Her clothes barely fit her and she looks like she hasn’t eaten in days.

Sadly, you must push her away. You have nothing to give. I had no currency and the next ATM was more than a mile away. What do you do in a case like that? Ideally you’d bring her back home with you and give her what we consider a “good” life. But that’s far from a playable card. So what’s next? It’s hard to think about.

Thankfully, women managing stalls at the market noticed the efforts of this little girl. They called her over and talked with her. It was in the local language, so I had no idea what was being said, but at the end of it, the women gave the girl a small piece of fruit to eat. The girl ate it, and then ran away.

This is Ubuntu. It is caring for those around you, in the most dire of circumstances.

Prior to arriving in Takoradi, Rebecca, an inter-port student from Ghana gave a speech to the entire shipboard community. During her talk, she emphasized the saying that it “takes more than an individual to raise a child. It takes a community.”

We saw that first hand with the little girl. No matter where we were for that span of twenty minutes, each and every woman we saw called to the little girl. Always watching, always ready to defend. They were a community concerned with the wellbeing of their young.

We ran into a number of children along the way- each one with bright, smiling faces and a constant curiosity with these different people coming into their land. Most intriguing was their seemingly sincere appreciation for us being there. It was truly humbling. The adults of the community were the same and welcomed us into their country.

So often we view ourselves as the oppressors, and in turn the “hated” within Ghana. At least I do. It’s hard not to. But this seems to be far from the truth. Though this notion is historically relevant (some of the largest slave-trade operations originated in Ghana), there seems to have been a change in mindset.  To me, it’s mind-boggling. I will not make any other assumptions, however. Nobody can ever know what someone is truly feeling. That’s something only God knows….

So how does this blog relate to my secret? You’re probably wondering about that at this point. Well, let me tell you.

Let me premise this by saying that I still can’t believe it actually happened. But it did. And I’m entirely grateful.

Ok, here it goes.

I was fortunate enough to get selected to accompany Archbishop Desmond Tutu as he was honored for receiving the African Lifetime Achievement Award from the Millennium Excellence Foundation.

It is an award that is given out every five years, and is considered the African equivalent of Nobel Prize. The Foundation has been honoring only Ghanaians for this special award since 2000, but it has only recently been extended to include all influential Africans on the international and continental stage. The point of the award is to honor those who have challenged the status quo and bettered the life of not just Ghanaians, but Africans as a whole.

According to Rebecca, our inter-port student from Ghana, this award is quite the accomplishment. It is an award given only to a select few. Kofi Anan, former Secretary General of the United Nations is one familiar name on this incredible list of African peacemakers.

Archbishop Tutu’s actual reception of the award will be in December, but he will not be in Ghana to accept it. So what better time  to receive this honor than when he happens to stop in Ghana on a journey around the world? Perfect timing, Arch. Well done good sir.

But of course, it wasn’t just me who got to go. Four other Semester at Sea students were also selected. That’s five out of six-hundred and four students. Incredible odds to beat. But we did it. Why did we get picked you ask? We don’t know. Still don’t. That’s why it is a miracle. We were randomly picked and thrown into the mix. It’s something that only a dream can create.

That said, we are all so thankful for being able to accompany one of the planet’s most influential men as he’s honored and adored by thousands of Ghanaians, let alone millions of Africans.

So what exactly did we do with him?  Well, we were technically considered part of Archbishop’s staff (I’ll call him “Arch” for short. That’s what he goes by. Cool name I think… which is a correction from a post a while ago calling him “Dez”). Dean David, Photo Mike, Lucille, Thao, Elliot, Abbi, Bounmi, and me. Only eight of us were part of his SAS entourage. Unbelievable.

Ok. Back to the story. What we did! Righto.

(I’m gonna try and keep it fairly concise…. but we all know how that goes)

All of this happened over a period of two days. On the morning of the September 23, about 15 government and private enterprise officials boarded the MV Explorer for a tour of the ship. These men included everyone from the local Member of Parliament to the owner of the National Ghanaian Soccer Team. Yeah. That’s right. The team that beat the US in the second round of the World Cup.

Whatever. More power to him. Seriously though. Good for him. I’m not bitter.

Anyway, the Archbishop and his wife Leah, the rest of the officials, and the eight of us were taken by motorcade (yeah, that’s also what I said- motorcade) to the airport to board a chartered plane to Kumasi.

After getting off the plane in Kumai, we were then transported to the premises of His Majesty Osei Tutu II- the Ashanti King of Ghana. Upon arrival, we were greeted with a crowd of over 500 people dancing and singing in honor of Archbishop Tutu. A hundred drums overshadowed your voice- no matter your attempt, you couldn’t be heard. It was powerful.  The traditional Kente Cloth garments were intricate, the colors vibrant. Everyone wore the outfits. From head to toe covered in color.

These people came from all over the country to honor one man. Think about it.  A multitude of Ashanti chiefs were part of the mix. Over one-hundred of the most important people in Ghana. All in one place, all at the same time. This is something virtually unheard of.

The King himself was a sight to behold. Wrapped in Kente, he was also layered  with gold rings, gold bracelets, and a gold crown. More gold than you can possibly imagine (For those who don’t know, Ghana is one of the largest gold producing countries in the world). If you can believe this, King Osei Tutu had servants dedicated to holding his arm up because of the immense weight of the gold. They were next to him during the entire ceremony, with men to wipe his face included.  I couldn’t believe my eyes. None of us could. It was the greatest definition of a king you can possibly imagine.  

In the middle of the ceremony, our entire regiment was called out by name. Boumi, Abbi, Elliot, Lucille, Thoa, Photo Mike, Dean David, and myself. All announced to the crowd.  After, we honored the king with a bow and a blessing. Each of us. One by one. It was intimidating, but also liberating. A flying sprit. It was a total rush to shake the hand of the king.

Only in a dream.

During this time, Arch gave a speech detailing the importance of Ubuntu. I will never forget the understanding that filled the crowd when Archbishop Tutu said those words of “I am because you are.” It was beautiful. And I thought our experience couldn’t get any better.

As the ceremony came to an end, and Arch was praised to the fullest extend by the masses, we moved into the most coveted buildings in all of Ghana: we were treated to a lunch at the king’s palace. There were no more than twenty of us in the dining room. According to the Ghanaian woman we were with, this was something people from Ghana only dream of. A true honor. I couldn’t have felt more blessed.

The King of Ghana and Archbishop Desmond Tutu all in one room. Incredible. The king sat in the center, Arch on his right. King Osei Tutu wanted the experience to be as comfortable and homely possible. So what do you do in that situation? You make the lunch buffet style. We ate traditional Ghanaian food, served ourselves, all on pure-gold plates.

I’m serious. Fried chicken. Rice. Gold plates. Served ourselves. It was awesome.

Did I mention that I was wearing a suit for all of this? Nice.

It was something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Only a select few ever get this chance. Why me? Only God knows.

The next day we flew to Accra, the capital of Ghana. Though it wasn’t as elaborate the day before, it was still an amazing experience. As usual, we rode in motorcade everywhere we went only to be met by celebrating crowds.

We met the Vice President at the Presidential Castle (would have met the current president John Atta Mills, but he was on leave in China… bummer, I guess VP will have to do ;-) and ate lunch with the top executives at Anglo-Gold Ashanti, a major sponsor of the African Lifetime Achievement Award.  We even met the former president of Ghana, though his name escapes me at the present time. Please forgive me.

After, three ceremonies, four Tutu speeches, and a countless number of photo-ops, we flew back to Takoradi and were escorted back to the ship.

What blows my mind is that, through all of this, Archbishop Tutu continues to keep the most level head of a man I’ve ever seen. He’s the most humble man I’ve ever met, yet the change he’s been able to create has been felt across the world five times over. It was an honor to be with him on this experience. It was a dream come true.

I’ve known about this man since high school. In fact, Archbishop Mitty had a mural of Archbishop Tutu up in our campus ministry. It truly is amazing to see how life weaves the way it does. You never know where it’s going to go. I never thought I’d see this in my life. But I did, and it was beautiful. Two days with Arcbishop Desmond Tutu.

So. Because it is late here off the coast of Africa, I’ve decided to put off writing this blog til now, and we’re actually going to be docking in Arch’s home country tomorrow morning, I’m going to sign off on this one. There is an article featured on the Semester at Sea website if you’d like to read more, but I  am refraining from saying much more now.

(Here it is:  http://www.semesteratsea.org/what-s-new-at-sas-/press-releases/sas-students-join-archbishop-tutu-for-red-carpet-celebrations-in-ghana.php)

I will say this though:

Everything happens for a reason. I firmly believe that. Clearly there is a reason we got chosen for this extraordinary experience. It is more than just two days come and gone. It is a starting point.

But to where exactly? I don’t know, but I hope to use this experience to do better, to act better, and to simply be better. I gotta make something out of this.

That’s the goal. We’ll see where it leads. 

The future is unknown, but I still have the reigns.

Bring in it on South Africa. You’ve grown, but so have I. It’ll be good to see you again. I missed you.

Peace, love, and happiness to all.

A Secret Unravels

I have a secret.

Ok. It's not that big of a secret anymore, but it's something that took weeks to plan and hours of coordination and deal-making to become reality. And let's just say it involves one of the most respected and cherished men on the face of the Earth. Know who I'm talking about now? Desmond Tutu, perhaps? Indeed.  Good work. So smart, you are.

I will not tell you what exactly is happening, however. Not yet. That's for a later day. Only a select few know as of yet. I will tell you this though: Archbishop Tutu is receiving a major award from the Republic of Ghana, and I get to be a part of it.

Once again- that's all I'll say.

The mysterious world of Ghana, Africa appears on our horizon tomorrow. Takadori awaits.

I will post soon.

Love, peace, and happiness to all. Thanks for reading. Miss you all.

Morocco: A Reflection on Adventure

Morocco- The simple, abridged version: IT FREAKIN ROCKED MY SOCKS.

The long, detailed version: Morocco was a cultural experience filled with adventure, excitement, and amazement. Words cannot describe what we felt. The previous post lightly touched on this. 

I will not bore you with too (take that word lightly) many words, as they cannot describe the scale of the adventure, but I will detail only the quintessential parts of the journey. They are what's most interesting In my opinion. I truly believe that good writing is concise writing (we'll see how that goes), and I'll try to do just that for this guy. 

Morocco was a whirlwind from the beginning. Have you ever been on a non air-conditioned train packed to the brim with people in a country with above 90 climate? I have. I thought it was only in movies. I stand corrected.

On September 10, twelve students and I embarked on a journey to Marrakesh, a major city dedicated to street fairs and haggling everything under the African sun. The journey, as mentioned before, started with a train ride. Because it was the end of Ramadan (Morocco is an Islamic country), the most holy part of the year, the trains were overbooked with people trying to get home to their families. Though seemingly a crappy situation, we actually had an incredible time on the train and made friends with a number of the locals. It was amazing. It's absolutely incredible how a language barrier can be broken with body language. English and Arabic are nothing alike, yet a simple smile makes everything understandable. It's beautiful how there is still a common human bond, and it involves more than just verbal communication. Emotions are the language of the world. Everyone understands emotion, even if you are from half-way across the world.

So why Marrakesh? Well, because the next day we were going to be heading out for a trek into the middle of the Sahara, and we just happened to leave from Marrakesh. But first, we checked out everything the city's market had to offer. It boasted everything from fresh squeezed OJ to snake charmers. It was complete chaos, something straight from Indiana Jones. A completely surreal environment, but I loved every second of it. People were yelling, screaming, demanding that you look at their products at every corner. Mopeds and cars whipped by with absolutely no direction or rules. Kids begged for change, swindlers sucked people into their shops, public boxing matches ruled the turf. All of this seemed to be in a space of only four square acres.  The scene was nuts.

The next morning, the real adventure began (9/11). We headed out to the Sahara, the forbidden land for outsiders. The land of scarabs, scorpions, and ancient spirits that ruled the desert winds. We went with a company called Sahara Trek, and their service was phenomenal. The first night ,we spent the night in a desert villa, a palace that kings would find worthy. We couldn't believe our eyes, and the fact that it was in the middle of the SAHARA FRICKEN DESERT blew our mind. Unbelievable, but absolutely amazing. A splash in the pool under the Milky Way complimented our stay.

In the morning, we mounted our camel and headed out into the dunes. For two hours we roughed the extremes of the Sahara, which just happened to be sunny, 100 degrees, and breezy. Ok, so it was fairly nice. Slight sarcasm, but we still endured the camel. Though my hips (please disregard my femininity) screamed at me at the end of it, I will never regret it. It was such a cool experiences. Every year, people in these Saharan villages are forced to make the 50 day camel trek to Timbuktu- just to buy clothes. That in itself is incredible. I can't even imagine how that was.

With all that said, we traveled to the different villages, most of sporting more donkeys as transportation than actual cars. Literally, we were blasted to the ancient world, with most using donkeys and livestock as their main form of transportation. In many cases, there would twenty donkeys at a time in a lot, waiting for their owners to return. We were speechless. 

That day, our tour guides prepared us for what would be the coolest part of our adventure. Later that afternoon, Habib, our local tour guide gathered us together, put us in his Land Cruiser, and tore into the desert at 90 miles per hour. Our destination: a nomad camp in the middle of the Sahara dunes. Habib was the reason for our incredible experiences. Words cannot describe this man- a combination of Dumbledore and Indiana Jones- the wisest of the wise, and a man raving for adventure. 

In the middle of the desert, Habib pulled the car over and started dancing to the music blasting from his speakers. Does the song "We No Speak Americano" ring a bell? If not, look it up. If so, blast it. Because this was our jam. It's the rage in Europe.... and Morocco for that matter. We let loose for seven minutes, not holding anything back. On the top of the car, on the ground, everything you could think of- we were dancing on it. Wait til the pics. Wait til the video. It was truly a dance club in the Sahara. Once in a life time experience.  And the best part? It was under the the influence of nature- nothing else. No alcohol is what I'm saying. It was one of the coolest things I've ever done.

We spent that night at the camp. Our back yard consisted of 350+ foot sand dunes, reaching as high as the eye could see. We climbed them- not an easy feat, but still an incredible adventure. We were also confronted with the sight of nomad children, four beautiful children wanting to sell their treasures to our group. Allie bought an item, and the rest of the children surrounded her. Both a blessing and a curse. Regardless, it was still an amazing interaction, one I'll remember forever.

That night, we slept amongst the stars- or so it seemed. We put our mattresses together, all 12 of us, and wasted away the night under the cosmos. I thought I'd seen the stars like that, but I was sorely mistaken. I will never see the sky like that again. I guarantee it. The edge of Milky Was was in clear view, Jupiter at our right. It was a glimpse into heaven. It sent chills down my spine. Still does when I think about it.

We awoke the next morning to a beautiful blue sky, one mixed with light and dark and blue. The day was making its debut as night was quickly falling into its slumber. The air fresh, the wind nil. Animal tracks dotted the sand. Scorpions, birds, cats, and dogs all made their mark. After getting up, we headed back to Casablanca- a 12 hour drive back to reality.

This trip was a great success, one I'll remember for the rest of my life. But it wasn't what we did that made it great. It was the people we met. As mentioned in the previous post, Habib, our guide made the experience greater than anything you can possibly dream. His partner, Brahim, was also a major part of the experience. Each wise in their own right, each richer than the kings of the Earth combined. They were not rich with possession, but rich with wisdom, passion, and spirit. I envy them. Our entire group did.

When Brahim was asked for three wishes of his choosing, he responded by saying that he had everything in his life that he needed. He wanted nothing else for it was already complete.

That is the beautiful answer of them all. It is selfless. For us in Western society, we'd want to have the world. We'd want as much as we could have. Sadly, that's our nature. But for Brahim, he was content with next to nothing. His life was complete because he was emotionally rich. His life was complete because of the relationships he had. It was not the pair of pants he owned that mattered, but the friends at his side and his family around table. I love that. If only out lives could be like that. 

Habib was exactly the same way, and then some. There is something very special about that man. I will not begin to describe him, as I know a thousand words will never do him justice. Just take my word for it. He made an impact on our life. Everyone in our group felt his power. That's all I'll say.

Right now, I must soon enter into slumber. It's roughly 12:30 AM. I have no sense of up, down, or all around. All I know is that we're steaming towards Ghana. By the way, I am using my portable alarm clock as a timekeeper. I bartered my 20 dollar watch for a fossil and a Berber figurine. Cool, eh? I'll catch yas all later.


Love, Peace, and Happiness to all. Thanks for reading. Love you guys. Email soon.

What You See is Human

I have done a lot of cool things in my life, but nothing on the same scale as this. I am truly blessed. Why am I so lucky? This is something I’ll be asking until the day I die.

For the past two days I, along with eleven other students, spent two nights in the middle of the Sahara Desert- a vast, dry tundra that spans over 80 million square miles in northern Africa. But it was more than just a simple stay in the desert. It was an emotional experience that I don’t think anybody other than those involved will ever be able to comprehend. It is something that we will never forget. From abruptly stopping our vehicle and dancing to techno music in the middle of the Sahara, to interacting one-on-one with beautiful nomadic children, we did it all.

We were lead by an Arab man named Habib, a wise soul who put his entire heart into making our experience something we will remember forever. Though we met him only three days ago, the group instantly fell in love with his charm, wisdom, and fatherly ways. The man has been through so much, things that we as a people from a first world country can never even imagine, yet he still let down his guard to share his world with us. We broke down a cultural and social barrier with Habib. He was more than a tour guide. He became a friend.

I tell you this because Habib is perhaps the soul reason for our incredible Sahara experience. Sure, we went out to the desert, but because we were lead by this incredible man, our experience was more than just superficial. It became emotionally and physically real, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.  It all started with the disco party in the middle of Sahara. Habib, mid-drive, decided to pull over the Land Cruiser, get out, and dance to the music blasting from the speakers. We just let loose and let go of everything holding us back. It was amazing. All fifteen of us (Habib and crew included) acted like fools to a foreign techno song that none of us had heard ever of. It was spontaneous. It was fun. It was beautiful.

I’ve never felt more carefree in the world. The soul was liberated.

At first, Habib seemed like a large intimidating man whose robe and headscarf indicated an Arabian knight ready to fight to the death. But don’t be fooled. This tough facade masked an incredible man that made an impact so great that our group is dedicated to making it back one day to see him. 

I believe I truly felt what it was like to live these past two days. I stayed completely in the moment, and put aside all other worries and obligations in my life to experience what is. That present is the only thing at is real. That is the Power of Now- just as the book suggests. There is no need to look at the past- for it is the past and cannot be changed. And there no need to dwell on the future as it has not happened yet. The only thing that is real is the present. It is tangible. Make the most of it. Seize the day.

I realize I haven’t said a lot of what we actually did, and I can understand if you don’t really comprehend what I’m trying to say, but I just had to put this out to world.

I guess the biggest message from this is that I am making the most of the time we have over here. I thank God and my parents for this opportunity. I love you and thank you. You have given the world to me- literally. 

I titled this post “What You See is Human” because it is a key line in Dave Matthews Band’s song “Minarets.” Though not one his most popular songs, I invite you to listen to it. We are group from the other side of the world, yet our human connection with Habib and his men made that distance seem trivial. You see where I am going with this.

The title of the song is also fitting, as Minarets are the tower portions of Islamic mosques. Given that Morocco is an Islamic country, I don’t think this song could be more appropriate. Mosques are everywhere. Listen to it while watching the stars. I dare you. It’s awesome.

There is much more to come on actual activities, but for now I just had to get the emotions out. After all, they span over 48 hours… and they are still alive.

Shukran. Thank you to everyone.

Peace, love, and happiness to all.

Three days, and a Year's Worth of Adventure

WARNING: This post is rather long. Deal with it.

España. Words cannot really describe how awesome this country is. After arriving early in the morning on September 4th (as read in the last post), a group of us Semester at Sea students set out on an adventure that will be remembered forever. It was a whirlwind to say the least, but the incredible experiences we had made it all worth it.

(The Plans)

        Cadiz, Spain was our starting point. Getting tickets for the bus was a our first plan of action. There were six of us in total: Greg, Allie, Morgan, Olivia, Dallas, and myself. It was a solid group from the get-go. Because the train station was so close to the cruise ship terminal, our group walked and got tickets for a bus at 1500 (that’s 3:00 PM for you American regulars). Our final destination? Grenada, Spain- one of the oldest cities in all of Europe and the last stronghold of the Moor Dynasty. Upon getting the tickets we did what any person in their right mind would do- proceed to the first local bar we saw and get some of the local brew (“Cruzcampo” beer was the only beer anyone drank in Cadiz. Hell, that was fine with me! Give me the good stuff). Luckily, there was bar right in front of our ship. It couldn’t have been better. In the United States, it would have been considered a hole in the wall, but in Spain, this bar was a spawning ground for cultural exchanges. We were six American students sitting amongst eleven Spanish men. Needless to say, we didn’t say much to them, no pun intended, but it was a great way to get cultural immersion. English words were absent from every conversation other than our own.

We were officially in Spain…. and lovin’ it.

(Granada)

        After leaving the bar, we got on our five-hour bus ride to Granada. That’s right. FIVE hours. Typically a bus ride from Cadiz to Granada takes about two hours, but our route took us to Sevilla first, and THEN to Granada. For our group, this seemed completely counter-intuitive because we were heading to Sevilla two days later. But whatever. The bus ride was still sweet. We saw hours of beautiful countryside, everything from the never-ending rows of olive trees to spots of massive wind turbines. The landscape spread as far as the eye could see.  We passed a multitude of “white villages” along the way. These are small, centuries-old communities where every building is dressed in white- our logic being that they reflect the sun and ultimately keep the building cooler. Very smart.
While on the road, we met this awesome young man. His name was Clemont, and just happened to be from France and home of the infamous mustard- Dijon.  He was studying Industrial Sustainability in Madrid through a European Union program. The kid was awesome. He joined us in Granada and accompanied us on our treck through the city. From the Alhambra to nightlife, Clémon was there, and we loved it. In Granada the seven of us (Clémon included) stayed at “The Funky Backpackers” Hostel. Granted, it was my first hostel experience, but I could tell that this place was pretty cool. I mean, how can you go wrong with a Funky Hostel? I don’t think you can.  I mean, any hostel that gives you paella and sangria for free on your first night is pretty freaking cool.
        Staying at the place were three Australians, “Aussies” for short.  There names were Eddie, Eddie (aka Freddie for the time being), and Chris. They were hilarious and taught us Australian slang from words such as “boardies” to “snag.” Come talk to me if you want the  They had an entire conversation purely based on abbreviations and slang. Our group was blown away. It was hysterical.
         Amazingly, the three just met in the hostel, not knowing each other prior to ending up in Granada. That’s the beauty of hostels. You meet people from all over the world. There were French, German, British and Brazilian people all staying there. Most of them our age. We went out together and talked together. It was a community of strangers.
        The nightlife in Granada was great. We went to a few clubs and bars, had “tapas” out the wazoo, and met a number of other students studying abroad (including one from IC!!!!). But what about the day life? Now, that’s where the good stuff was. After a night of heavy “socializing,” we went to one of the most beautiful pieces of historic architecture I have ever seen.  We went to the Alhambra, the last stronghold of the Moors, a Muslim people that controlled part of Spain and were defeated (at the Alhambra) in 1492 by the Spanish Christians. Ever heard of it? I have never seen anything like it. It was a castle, palace, and fortress combined, all on a hill overlooking the beautiful city of Granada. It is truly the landmark of the city and symbol of Spanish history and conquest. 
        The Alhambra’s architecture paired with an incredible Islamic art riddled with precision and care is a major feat, even in modern standards. Every single wall of the Alhambra was meticulously hand-chiseled with Islamic symbols and characters. One again: every single wall was meticulously hand-chiseled with Islamic symbols and characters. It was absolutely breathtaking. To give you an idea of the Alhambra’s scale in size, it took our group four hours to see only half of the grounds. We were blown away. Though this does the monument absolutely no justice, here is the link to the Alhambra: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alhambra. Check it out. Pictures will come later. And, yes, they’re awesome. Just so you know.
        The city itself was also incredible. Truly a mix of past and present. It was a mix of ancient cobble stone streets and modern vehicles. I loved every second of it. The culture was alive. 

(Sevilla)
        Though we had some more awesome memories created, I’ll spare you more random pieces of information about Granada. After saying goodbye to our friends at the Funky Backpakers Hostel (especially Clémon), we made our way via train to the lovely city of Sevilla (spelled Seville in the US), and decided to change our living arrangements to a slightly different scene. We stayed a hotel. Scratch that, a “Palace.” The name currently escapes me at this time, but for approximately 102 euro, we were able to get a room for three people…. but ended up shoving six of us in there. Totally against hotel policy, but totally awesome at the same time. In total- seventeen euros a pop. Not bad at all.
        Like Granada, we went out and took in the scene.  On the first night, our group explored the city.  It too was an incredible city, and boasted one of the most beautiful river scenes I’ve ever seen- truly European, truly remarkable. Bars, otherwise known as “Cervesarieas” were scattered along the edge of the River Guadalquivir. We of course stopped at different ones, getting a taste of local sangria, tapas, and (most importantly) people. We also ran into fellow SASers and spent some time with them. It was good to see some familiar faces and hear some English from a different crowd…. But not too nice ;-)
        The next day, Morgan and I awoke early to see if we could catch our FDP (Field Directed Practica- a SAS sponsored fieldtrip) for Sevilla. We of course could not find the group, but that’s OK. We made it up in other ways. Because we got to the heart of Sevilla early, before any tourists arrived, Morgan and I got to experience something that not a lot of tourists have ever been able to say they’ve done. At the center of town stands one of the most magnificent pieces of architecture I’ve ever seen: The Catedral de Santa María de la Sede (Cathedral of Saint Mary of the Sea). Because we arrived early, Morgan and I were able to enter the building free of charge. In fact, mass was even going at the time, and the sound of the priests’ hymns echoing through the massive building made the experience come alive. I was alive with the Spirit. Not to get too preachy, but I could feel something more than just of the chill of the morning breeze. It as a feeling from generated from the inside. It was refreshing. It was beautiful. Morgan even had the same experience, and she claims to have never been a person of faith- one who often feels uncomfortable in places of worship.  Not this time. She said she felt there was a reason for her being there and that she was calm and relaxed- something she has never felt before. She doesn’t know exactly why. She just was. There is something comforting in that. 
        Starting construction in 1184, the building stands today as the third-largest cathedral in the world. Like the Alhambra, words cannot describe what we saw.  It is still mind-blowing to think that people had the power to create structures so magnificent back then. I can’t even imagine how they did it. But they did, and that is awesome.
        By the way, Christopher Columbus is also buried there. You know, the guy who found the “New World” in 1492. Yeah. That guy. Remember him? Not knowing this fact, Morgan and I literally stumbled across his tomb by mistake. Can you believe it? We were at a loss for words. I was stunned and literally felt like I could die. I could not believe my eyes. Sevilla truly is the gateway to the world...
        After seeing the cathedral, Morgan and I found our group and headed back to Cadiz by train. Our time in España was almost over. We spent our last night in Cadiz and simply relaxed and enjoyed the local attractions. The group was safely back on the ship by 1800 hours on September 8.

I finish this blog in the port of Casablanca, Morocco. Tomorrow- desert, camels, and stars for 2 days and 3 nights. Let the good times roll. Adios, Europe. Hello Africa.



Thanks for reading. Much peace, love, and happiness to you.