Sunday, November 17, 2013
Bring An Open Heart
Another FB post made me stop to reflect a bit and the result is this. Everyone who has the luxury of travel, and who is interested in an experience, should travel to Ethiopia. The reason I say this has to do with the aforementioned FB post which happened to be about the airport in Ethiopia's capital city.
Of all the airports in the world, the one that has made the best impression on me is the airport in Addis Ababa. It's not fancy but it's comfortable enough. Definitely busy. A bit chaotic inside. The parking lot is beyond insane given that it is not big to begin with and basically serves as the "arrival lounge" since you can't get into the airport building without holding a plane ticket. It's functionally clean - cleaner in many aspects than some airports in the U.S. although there probably won't be toilet paper in the bathrooms. It's reasonably efficient, especially given that it's an international airport with all that implies. I mean the amount of checked luggage being processed is a thing all unto itself. It has good last minute shopping opportunities, although at the point of departure I am usually broke. Great place for people watching. The worst I can say is that there is is one cafe where for some reason it's impossible to get your bill in a timely fashion. And yet, I've eaten there three times.
But all that aside, there is a level of courtesy that I encountered with the employees of the Addis Ababa Airport that is based on both common sense and kindness. For example:
- The visa processing agent who went along a very long line and pulled out everyone carrying a sleeping or crying child on their shoulder and expedited them at a different table.
- The porter who helped with our lost luggage and GOT.IT.DONE. Who told Atinafu in an moment of fussiness to "Sit" in polite but no uncertain terms. (And he sat, to the exhausted amazement myself and Roxann.) Who insisted on carrying 50 pound Johnathan at a moment when I was perilously near tears. He said to Johnathan "I will carry you" in that same courteous but no nonsense voice. Johnathan looked at him, looked at me, and promptly snuggled into this stranger's neck and went with it. 10 days later,as we were leaving, that same man popped out of the crowd in the parking lot to give Johnathan a hug and ask him how his trip had been.
- The janitor who, when asked where we could buy a card to load up my cell phone with minutes, promptly offered his own cell so we could call the people who were waiting for us in the parking lot.
- The wrapping service in the airport where for a small amount of money you can have that big item that you really wanted to bring home with you basically shrink wrapped quickly and expertly. No fuss/no muss.
Now I'm not stupid. With the exception of the visa agent, all of the above people made some money for providing a service. People have to make a living. Ethiopia can be a hard place to do that. And the combination of my white skin and obvious accent make me easily identifiable as an American. The chances of me being a profitable "customer" are probably better than decent. But the way that each individual provided service was so gracious and kind, that the fact that there was clearly Birr or Dollars involved seemed like an afterthought.
So that's what I have experienced in Ethiopia. As a tourist, the process of moving about from place to place, sightseeing, etc., is at a practical level all founded on the money. That is just a fact. Tourism is an industry, after all. In fact, it's my industry so I should know. But every place I have traveled in Ethiopia, I have been impressed with the fact that tourism is presented with an attitude of "Please, let me show you/let me help you". Kind people have run several blocks away to get bubbly water for my sick child. All the Amharic I know, I have learned in the back of a battered blue taxi cab. I had fun learning it and I remember it all. Many, many strangers in various restaurants and cafes have done what they can to entice my finicky children to eat. With a couple of tiny exceptions, no person I have encountered in Ethiopia has made me feel uncomfortable or unwelcome. And no one that I have met was not proud to show me their bit of Ethiopia.
That isn't to say that your attitude as a tourist doesn't makes a difference. I have seen some extremely rude tourists in Ethiopia, as in everywhere else in the world. I have seen people treat guest house hosts like servants. I've seen people be loud and demanding and entitled. I think that you reap what you sow. While touring a church complex in Axum, I was told very regretfully by the guide that there was parts of the grounds and one church building where women could not enter. Did I want to see the church? Sure. But... instead, while my father went and toured the church, I wrapped my scarf a little tighter around my head and went and sat on a boulder with a group of Axumite women who were there for a religious ceremony related to Lent. We exchanged shy smiles and head nods, shoulder shrugs indicating "gosh, it's a beautiful day", etc. We listened to the chants coming from the church. It was lovely and peaceful and a moment that had meaning to me. And then... we proceeded to watch a group of female American tourists, in shorts and tank tops no less, fuss loudly and harass their guide about the gender restriction and generally make asses of themselves. It was so embarrassing. Really, I blushed for them. From their guides frosty body language I am guessing that their tour was close to over and that if they took anything away from their experience that day, it was basically the same stuff they could have found in a guide book.
Ethiopia is a beautiful country. So much to see, so much history and culture and so many contrasting dynamics. But above all, a place where you can bring an open heart and a sincere interest and receive kindness and courtesy and true hospitality.
Friday, November 1, 2013
November 1 and Turkey Day approaches. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it’s all about sharing time with people we love. There are no other distractions, like presents or egg hunts. Just family and whatever friends land at our table. (Well, my dad's table. Not mine, for reasons that will soon be obvious.) November also makes me remember one very particular Thanksgiving dinner.
Way back when, I spent my junior year of University in Dijon, France, in a French language program for foreign students with lots and lots of people from all over the world. With the holiday approaching, my American compatriots and I decided to host a Thanksgiving dinner party for our friends to share our traditions. It was a great idea but the reality was slightly more complicated. We were all 19, 20, 21. Not one of us knew how to cook. This was before cell phones and internet. Reference materials were limited and there was no phoning home to mom for advice. Overall we did not clearly think this plan through before inviting a bunch of people to dinner.
Nevertheless, the menu was created & dishes assigned. I got pumpkin pies because I had made one once, from canned pumpkin pie product and frozen pie shells. There was some mixing involved, but overall it was pretty simple and I thought easy-peasy.
The following is the chain of events as I recall them.
•Go to grocery store and find frozen pie crusts but search for canned Libby’s Pumpkin Pie mix to no avail.
•Ask store employee for help but discover that I do not know the word for pumpkin and am not THAT good at charades.
•Search French/English dictionary for the word for pumpkin. Find a word that means roughly “gourd”. No dice, but one very amused employee suggests that “gourds” might be found in the weekly outdoor market.
•Stop to ponder the thought that I am in way, way, way over my head and am going to have to make the pie. As in make it from scratch. Totally from scratch.
•Deep breath. This should be interesting. (A smarter girl would have suggested a different desert at this moment.)
•Scour the market, interrogate numerous elderly market vendors. Find one green, roundish gourd thingy that has been cut in half to display orange interior.
•Sniff the gourd, decide that this is as good as it gets and make purchase along with a bunch of spices that smelled sort of right.
•Return to dorm to figure out how to reduce my gourd down to pumpkin pie filling. My tools: one knife, one bowl, one pot and a hot plate burner in the communal kitchen with one heat setting and a button that had to be pushed every 5 minutes to keep it on.
•(Let’s just skip the next four hours and say that it was not pretty.)
•Gather pie crust and resultant gourd filling. Get on the bus to the house where the pie will be cooked.
•Walk into chaos caused by the fact that, as it turns out, French turkeys are small. They are small because French ovens are small. There are two turkeys. One turkey has been squashed into the oven. It is cube shaped. The second waits to follow. Total cooking time line destroyed. My pie has been bumped.
•Gather group around the table to stare at pie components, completely nonplussed by turn of events.
•American with available oven identified on the other end of town. Two bus rides later, involving MANY stares and whispers from local commuters, the pie is in the oven.
•Struck by thought that I have no idea how long it needs to cook.
•Realize that it does not matter anyway. It has 30 minutes to cook and then it’s back on the bus to return to the party house before the guests arrive. The pie will have to finish, if need be, when the oven is free. (Those reading who know anything about food safety are now shuddering. I accept that.)
•Two pies eventually make it back into an oven and bake. And bake and bake. Or rather don’t bake. At least not into anything pumpkin pie like.
•People of various nationalities bravely scoop up pumpkin sludge and say things like “Yummy!” and “Wow!” and “May I have the recipe, please”. In French. Proving that the ability to "BS" for the sake of politeness is global.
•A fellow hostess hands me a glass of wine and says "Oh well. No one is dead and no one is bleeding. No biggie." And then hands me another glass of wine.
•Return in the morning to help clean up house. Find a table full of women eating the pumpkin pie that sat slowly cooking with the oven pilot light all night and is beautiful. And delicious.
All in all, it was a Thanksgiving adventure. I learned some things. 1) I am stubborn. 2) I am somewhat creative. Not necessarily in an efficient manner, but if it needs to be done, I can get it done. 3) Really, it's not a crisis if not one is dead and no one is bleeding. I have totally embraced that philosophy. Sometimes to the great annoyance of those around me. 4) Finally, and most important, I have great friends and people are kind.
Wishing everyone memorable adventures as we more into the holiday season.
Way back when, I spent my junior year of University in Dijon, France, in a French language program for foreign students with lots and lots of people from all over the world. With the holiday approaching, my American compatriots and I decided to host a Thanksgiving dinner party for our friends to share our traditions. It was a great idea but the reality was slightly more complicated. We were all 19, 20, 21. Not one of us knew how to cook. This was before cell phones and internet. Reference materials were limited and there was no phoning home to mom for advice. Overall we did not clearly think this plan through before inviting a bunch of people to dinner.
Nevertheless, the menu was created & dishes assigned. I got pumpkin pies because I had made one once, from canned pumpkin pie product and frozen pie shells. There was some mixing involved, but overall it was pretty simple and I thought easy-peasy.
The following is the chain of events as I recall them.
•Go to grocery store and find frozen pie crusts but search for canned Libby’s Pumpkin Pie mix to no avail.
•Ask store employee for help but discover that I do not know the word for pumpkin and am not THAT good at charades.
•Search French/English dictionary for the word for pumpkin. Find a word that means roughly “gourd”. No dice, but one very amused employee suggests that “gourds” might be found in the weekly outdoor market.
•Stop to ponder the thought that I am in way, way, way over my head and am going to have to make the pie. As in make it from scratch. Totally from scratch.
•Deep breath. This should be interesting. (A smarter girl would have suggested a different desert at this moment.)
•Scour the market, interrogate numerous elderly market vendors. Find one green, roundish gourd thingy that has been cut in half to display orange interior.
•Sniff the gourd, decide that this is as good as it gets and make purchase along with a bunch of spices that smelled sort of right.
•Return to dorm to figure out how to reduce my gourd down to pumpkin pie filling. My tools: one knife, one bowl, one pot and a hot plate burner in the communal kitchen with one heat setting and a button that had to be pushed every 5 minutes to keep it on.
•(Let’s just skip the next four hours and say that it was not pretty.)
•Gather pie crust and resultant gourd filling. Get on the bus to the house where the pie will be cooked.
•Walk into chaos caused by the fact that, as it turns out, French turkeys are small. They are small because French ovens are small. There are two turkeys. One turkey has been squashed into the oven. It is cube shaped. The second waits to follow. Total cooking time line destroyed. My pie has been bumped.
•Gather group around the table to stare at pie components, completely nonplussed by turn of events.
•American with available oven identified on the other end of town. Two bus rides later, involving MANY stares and whispers from local commuters, the pie is in the oven.
•Struck by thought that I have no idea how long it needs to cook.
•Realize that it does not matter anyway. It has 30 minutes to cook and then it’s back on the bus to return to the party house before the guests arrive. The pie will have to finish, if need be, when the oven is free. (Those reading who know anything about food safety are now shuddering. I accept that.)
•Two pies eventually make it back into an oven and bake. And bake and bake. Or rather don’t bake. At least not into anything pumpkin pie like.
•People of various nationalities bravely scoop up pumpkin sludge and say things like “Yummy!” and “Wow!” and “May I have the recipe, please”. In French. Proving that the ability to "BS" for the sake of politeness is global.
•A fellow hostess hands me a glass of wine and says "Oh well. No one is dead and no one is bleeding. No biggie." And then hands me another glass of wine.
•Return in the morning to help clean up house. Find a table full of women eating the pumpkin pie that sat slowly cooking with the oven pilot light all night and is beautiful. And delicious.
All in all, it was a Thanksgiving adventure. I learned some things. 1) I am stubborn. 2) I am somewhat creative. Not necessarily in an efficient manner, but if it needs to be done, I can get it done. 3) Really, it's not a crisis if not one is dead and no one is bleeding. I have totally embraced that philosophy. Sometimes to the great annoyance of those around me. 4) Finally, and most important, I have great friends and people are kind.
Wishing everyone memorable adventures as we more into the holiday season.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Hearts in a Tree
Tonight at dinner Johnathan told me he had something that he wanted to tell me at bedtime. Something private. I could tell from his cute little freckled face that he was bursting to tell. Now! The subsequent conversation went like this.
Mom: Hmmm... ok, you can tell me at bedtime. Whatever.
Johnathan: (Giggle) Richie* told me something today! Something you won't believe! (Giggle, giggle)
Mom: Really??? What???
Johnathan: He was at the park and they had those binoculars and he put 50 cents in and looked and he saw.... (Giggle).... I'll tell you the rest later.
Roxann poking her head in from the other room: What is this I'm hearing? Saw what?
Johnathan: I can't tell in front of Ati. It was too shocking! I'll tell mom in the other room.
We depart for the living room and Johnathan proceeds to tell me that Richie was peeking through the binoculars and saw Bobbie* and Susie* by the lake. And low and behold Bobbie KISSED Susie!!!!
Mom: What???
Johnathan: I know, right!?! Can you believe it? (Giggle, giggle, giggle)
I am returned to the dining room and Johnathan hauls Roxann of to share the juicy gossip. I hear "whisper, whisper, whisper" and then "NO! WHAT? EWWWW!!!!"
But wait, there's more. Bobbie is reportedly going to carve a heart in a tree with the lovebirds initials!
I asked Johnathan if this is giving him any ideas about kissing a girl.
His response. "What? Are you crazy??? No!"
*Names have been changed to preserve privacy. And because I don't want any calls from Bobby or Susie's mothers.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Exciting, Ultra-Glamorous, Not-To-Be-Missed 2012 Underwear Drive for AHOPE
Announcing the “Exciting, Ultra-Glamorous, Not-To-Be-Missed 2012 Underwear Drive for AHOPE!!!”
Some of you already know this, but I'm really excited to say that I will be traveling to Ethiopia in early May to participate in some development work. Part of my travel goal is to use a lot of my luggage allowance to carry over 400-600 pair of new underwear for the kids residing in the AHOPE children’s homes. AHOPE is an amazing organization providing care for children who have been orphaned, with a particular emphasis on caring for children who are HIV+, either in the AHOPE children’s homes or through outreach programs. I could go on and on all day about AHOPE and the work that they do but in the interest of time, I'll just cut to the chase.
AHOPE relies on donations in order to do their work. $$$ donations but also donations of various physical supplies, much of which gets carried over in people’s luggage. Example? Let’s see… oh yeah, underwear! Thus the previously mentioned EUGNTBM Underwear Drive of 2012. My goal is a little rough in terms of numbers because I won’t really know how much unmentionables weigh until they start piling up but I'm hoping that I will be able to present a freakin' huge number of pairs of underwear.
So there you have it; an opportunity of a lifetime to contribute to the universal human need to cover you butt. There is need for a range of sizes for children from toddler to young adults. I've asked a lot of questions, done some calculations and created my underwear spreadsheets. (Anyone who knows me, knows that much of my life involves a spreadsheet. And anyone who wishes to chuckle at my % of goal achieved calculation - feel free.) The list below represents the sizes and number of pairs of undies that are left to collect. I'll update the numbers as the undies start piling up. It looks like a lot, but undies come in multi packs so it's not a ominous as it seems. Sensible styles probably best. I.e. briefs, boxer briefs, etc. Quality that will hold up in the long term preferred. And please, no previously worn underwear, even if they are in the best condition.
If anyone wants to contribute, please send me a message. As I said, AHOPE is an amazing organization and any help with this project would be much appreciated.
Boys
Goal by Size
Boys XS-- 24
Boys S-- 38
Boys M-- 38
Boys L-- 38
Boys XL-- 64
Mens S-- 63
Mens M-- 43
Total-- 308
Original Goal 380
Percentage of Goal Achieved 17%
Girls
Goal by Size
Girls 4 -- 30
Girls 6 -- 30
Girls 8 -- 10
Girls 10-- 40
Girls 12-- 40
Girls 14-- 60
Womens Small-- 50
Womens Medium-- 50
Total -- 180
Original Goal 200
Percentage of Goal Achieved 10%
Some of you already know this, but I'm really excited to say that I will be traveling to Ethiopia in early May to participate in some development work. Part of my travel goal is to use a lot of my luggage allowance to carry over 400-600 pair of new underwear for the kids residing in the AHOPE children’s homes. AHOPE is an amazing organization providing care for children who have been orphaned, with a particular emphasis on caring for children who are HIV+, either in the AHOPE children’s homes or through outreach programs. I could go on and on all day about AHOPE and the work that they do but in the interest of time, I'll just cut to the chase.
AHOPE relies on donations in order to do their work. $$$ donations but also donations of various physical supplies, much of which gets carried over in people’s luggage. Example? Let’s see… oh yeah, underwear! Thus the previously mentioned EUGNTBM Underwear Drive of 2012. My goal is a little rough in terms of numbers because I won’t really know how much unmentionables weigh until they start piling up but I'm hoping that I will be able to present a freakin' huge number of pairs of underwear.
So there you have it; an opportunity of a lifetime to contribute to the universal human need to cover you butt. There is need for a range of sizes for children from toddler to young adults. I've asked a lot of questions, done some calculations and created my underwear spreadsheets. (Anyone who knows me, knows that much of my life involves a spreadsheet. And anyone who wishes to chuckle at my % of goal achieved calculation - feel free.) The list below represents the sizes and number of pairs of undies that are left to collect. I'll update the numbers as the undies start piling up. It looks like a lot, but undies come in multi packs so it's not a ominous as it seems. Sensible styles probably best. I.e. briefs, boxer briefs, etc. Quality that will hold up in the long term preferred. And please, no previously worn underwear, even if they are in the best condition.
If anyone wants to contribute, please send me a message. As I said, AHOPE is an amazing organization and any help with this project would be much appreciated.
Boys
Goal by Size
Boys XS-- 24
Boys S-- 38
Boys M-- 38
Boys L-- 38
Boys XL-- 64
Mens S-- 63
Mens M-- 43
Total-- 308
Original Goal 380
Percentage of Goal Achieved 17%
Girls
Goal by Size
Girls 4 -- 30
Girls 6 -- 30
Girls 8 -- 10
Girls 10-- 40
Girls 12-- 40
Girls 14-- 60
Womens Small-- 50
Womens Medium-- 50
Total -- 180
Original Goal 200
Percentage of Goal Achieved 10%
Thursday, November 10, 2011
You Reap What You Sow
It's hard to shock me. I mean really hard. I think for whatever reason I have always been able to look at things straight on for what they are and I have sort of always known that the good, the bad and the ugly all exist in this world, all mixed up together. And it's messy. End of the day, I suppose I don't see the point in being shocked. I'm not sure where I get that from. Doesn't really matter, I guess.
But this week, I'm flat out shocked by the horrible turn of events coming out of Penn State. It's obviously just starting and after the initial jolt, I'm not going to be shocked when it gets worse. Much worse. Because there's no way it's not going in the direction of worse.
Obviously I'm shocked by the evil actions perpetrated against children. There really just aren't any words...
But beyond that, I am shocked by where some people are focusing their anger and outrage. To be blunt, I can’t believe that there are people standing up to protest the firing of Joe Paterno based solely on what he contributed to Penn State football. I’m sorry, but that kind of reasoning does not fly in this household. I mean, if someone said that we should let him stay a few more months because he’s “this close” to a cure for cancer, I would be at least willing to dialogue on the concept of “conditional good”. To be fair, I’ll say that it wouldn’t be a lengthy discussion, because I'm not a big fan of "conditional good", but I’d listen to an opinion.
But try to engage me with the idea that anything related to football can offset the fact that someone didn’t go all out to protect children from a predator? Ummm… yeah... that ain’t happening. Even if someone wasn’t sure, even if there was doubt, (and based on Paterno’s own statements, it doesn’t seem to me that there was any doubt), there was an unequivocal, moral responsibility to report TO THE AUTHORITIES and let those authorities and the legal system make the determination.
The adults in this situation, including Joe Paterno failed. They had a choice to take definitive action to protect children and they failed. That failure gave a monster almost 9 more years of freedom to commit evil. Paterno isn’t the first to fall. I would highly doubt that he’s going to be the last. But he brought this on himself. There are some failures where you pay the price. Period.
Side comment to the students who are causing all the chaos and fuss over this firing - Grow up. Joe Paterno is not a victim. His firing was not “unconscionable” as I heard one student claim. There were many “unconscionable” acts that took place in this situation. That wasn’t one of them. Joe Paterno was in a position of great authority. That means he was also in a position of great responsibility and he looked the other way when that responsibility called. Hopefully at some point the nation will see you all out there raising your voices on behalf of the true victims of this horror.
But this week, I'm flat out shocked by the horrible turn of events coming out of Penn State. It's obviously just starting and after the initial jolt, I'm not going to be shocked when it gets worse. Much worse. Because there's no way it's not going in the direction of worse.
Obviously I'm shocked by the evil actions perpetrated against children. There really just aren't any words...
But beyond that, I am shocked by where some people are focusing their anger and outrage. To be blunt, I can’t believe that there are people standing up to protest the firing of Joe Paterno based solely on what he contributed to Penn State football. I’m sorry, but that kind of reasoning does not fly in this household. I mean, if someone said that we should let him stay a few more months because he’s “this close” to a cure for cancer, I would be at least willing to dialogue on the concept of “conditional good”. To be fair, I’ll say that it wouldn’t be a lengthy discussion, because I'm not a big fan of "conditional good", but I’d listen to an opinion.
But try to engage me with the idea that anything related to football can offset the fact that someone didn’t go all out to protect children from a predator? Ummm… yeah... that ain’t happening. Even if someone wasn’t sure, even if there was doubt, (and based on Paterno’s own statements, it doesn’t seem to me that there was any doubt), there was an unequivocal, moral responsibility to report TO THE AUTHORITIES and let those authorities and the legal system make the determination.
The adults in this situation, including Joe Paterno failed. They had a choice to take definitive action to protect children and they failed. That failure gave a monster almost 9 more years of freedom to commit evil. Paterno isn’t the first to fall. I would highly doubt that he’s going to be the last. But he brought this on himself. There are some failures where you pay the price. Period.
Side comment to the students who are causing all the chaos and fuss over this firing - Grow up. Joe Paterno is not a victim. His firing was not “unconscionable” as I heard one student claim. There were many “unconscionable” acts that took place in this situation. That wasn’t one of them. Joe Paterno was in a position of great authority. That means he was also in a position of great responsibility and he looked the other way when that responsibility called. Hopefully at some point the nation will see you all out there raising your voices on behalf of the true victims of this horror.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Mudula Water Project - It's More Than Just Clean Water
Convenient access to clean water means more than you would think.
· It means better health eliminating senseless deaths, especially of children 5 and under.
· It means better productivity because people are consistently healthy enough to work. Illness due to contaminated water during critical times of the farming cycle can seriously impact an entire family’s food resources.
· It means women and girls do not waste hours per day hauling water needed for immediate survival when they could be doing activities that contribute to improving long term quality of life. Things like caring for their family, running businesses, and most importantly in the big picture, going to school.
· In addition to saving time, access to nearby, clean water saves those same women and girls a huge number of calories each and every day. Many women in rural Ethiopia eat a very nutritional diet but the calories can’t offset those lost hauling water for hours per day. It’s a caloric waste and results in women growing to be too small for their age, which contributes to infant and mother mortality and injury during childbirth. Save those calories and when a girl grows, goes to school, is able to earn a living and THEN gets married and starts her family, her body is much better prepared for the process of childbirth.
As my friend Meghan blogs, “Mudula Mamas”, three mothers of children born in Mudula, Ethiopia, have come together from different states to compete as one relay team in the Toyota US Open Triathlon and Janus Charity Challenge. These 3 friends are fundraising for “Mudula Water,” a large water project that will bring potable water to over 10,000 people in this rural village of southern Ethiopia.
Please give them your financial support before time runs out! https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorreg/donorpledge.asp?ievent=469401&supID=331974821
Help these women race for water. Help these women race for life.
To learn more about Mudula Water: www.mudulawater.org .
Meghan is personally donating $1 for every person who ‘like’s the Mudula Water page on Facebook. Click on the Mudula Water link above and then click "Like". The donation runs through Friday, September 30. You can do something right now – find that page. If you want to double your dollar donation without getting out of your chair or opening your wallet, like http://www.facebook.com/hopebytwelve page Facebook. The founder of Hope by twelve has announced the same challenge.
Take Meghan up on her offer. Please.
It's so much more that just clean water.
· It means better health eliminating senseless deaths, especially of children 5 and under.
· It means better productivity because people are consistently healthy enough to work. Illness due to contaminated water during critical times of the farming cycle can seriously impact an entire family’s food resources.
· It means women and girls do not waste hours per day hauling water needed for immediate survival when they could be doing activities that contribute to improving long term quality of life. Things like caring for their family, running businesses, and most importantly in the big picture, going to school.
· In addition to saving time, access to nearby, clean water saves those same women and girls a huge number of calories each and every day. Many women in rural Ethiopia eat a very nutritional diet but the calories can’t offset those lost hauling water for hours per day. It’s a caloric waste and results in women growing to be too small for their age, which contributes to infant and mother mortality and injury during childbirth. Save those calories and when a girl grows, goes to school, is able to earn a living and THEN gets married and starts her family, her body is much better prepared for the process of childbirth.
As my friend Meghan blogs, “Mudula Mamas”, three mothers of children born in Mudula, Ethiopia, have come together from different states to compete as one relay team in the Toyota US Open Triathlon and Janus Charity Challenge. These 3 friends are fundraising for “Mudula Water,” a large water project that will bring potable water to over 10,000 people in this rural village of southern Ethiopia.
Please give them your financial support before time runs out! https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorreg/donorpledge.asp?ievent=469401&supID=331974821
Help these women race for water. Help these women race for life.
To learn more about Mudula Water: www.mudulawater.org .
Meghan is personally donating $1 for every person who ‘like’s the Mudula Water page on Facebook. Click on the Mudula Water link above and then click "Like". The donation runs through Friday, September 30. You can do something right now – find that page. If you want to double your dollar donation without getting out of your chair or opening your wallet, like http://www.facebook.com/hopebytwelve page Facebook. The founder of Hope by twelve has announced the same challenge.
Take Meghan up on her offer. Please.
It's so much more that just clean water.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
A Personal Challenge From One Mother On Behalf Of Other Mothers
This is a personal challenge/request to my FB friends to raise awareness of "Philip Wiseley's Janus Charity Challenge" in support of Doctor's Without Borders therapeutic feeding programs. Monies raised will fund the nutritional food supplements needed help severely malnourished babies and children. Every $30 raised is enough to literally bring a starving child back from the brink. I always say that while that sounds dramatic, it is the literal truth.
My friend Meghan and her cohorts have been the drivers behind this challenge for the past four years. Every year they find an athlete to run/swim/bike a triathlon in the Janus Challenge. It's especially important because the athletes who raise the most money qualify for "bonus" donations for their charity from Janus Funds that could amount to thousands of dollars. Thousands of dollars translates to many, many children having a chance at life that they would not otherwise have and to many, many mothers not having to suffer the experience of losing a child to a slow and truly awful death.
My friend Meghan and her cohorts have been the drivers behind this challenge for the past four years. Every year they find an athlete to run/swim/bike a triathlon in the Janus Challenge. It's especially important because the athletes who raise the most money qualify for "bonus" donations for their charity from Janus Funds that could amount to thousands of dollars. Thousands of dollars translates to many, many children having a chance at life that they would not otherwise have and to many, many mothers not having to suffer the experience of losing a child to a slow and truly awful death.
Doctors W/O Borders maintains therapeutic feeding centers in the area where Atinafu was born. I've heard from people who live in this area. The situation is very bad and gets worse the further south one goes. Much worse. I can't even start...
Needless to say, this is pretty personal to me. So I'm raising a personal challenge to my friends and family. For every person who makes a donation of $10 or more, I will donate an additional $10. All you have to do is click on the link below and put my name somewhere in the "message" field for your donation. Or post on this thread. Or message me. Or whatever. Just find a way to tell me. Your donation amount can be totally anonymous. I will be grateful for any and all support. My cap in this offer is $500. That's 50 donors. I'm not sure I even know 50 people so if you want to share this challenge with your brother's wife's hairdresser's cousin Fred, go for it, as long as I can identify that a donation was made because of this challenge. I would especially love for my non adoptive parent friends to get involved since I know that my AP friends are already deeply involved and seriously stretching themselves to find ways to impact the current crisis. But regardless, I'm hoping people will find a way to make me hit the $500. My VISA card will thank you!
The deadline for my offer is Wednesday, August 24th, by the end of the day.
So there it is. My challenge to you. Thank you for taking the time to read.
Morgen
P.S. I totally stole this from another friend of mine. Shannon, thank you for the idea!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)