Coming Home

I dont care if you went to the supermarket for an hour, or to Africa for three months, there is this moment when you come through your door that you are comforted and you smile because you are home.

Mine was a little more dramatic yesterday, I actually hugged my house and my little address nameplate and then when I came in the front door it was like a wonderful dream. Everything was extra lovely because Stella put flowers in all the rooms, and a big pile of welcome home yellow balloons are in the living room and there were a couple of chocolates by my bed, but I just couldnt put my head around the fact that all these wonderful things that I love so dearly, were mine. From my comfy copper couches, to the blankets that lay on top of them that I have so missed, to the adorable dishes in the cupboard. I came into my 1000 square foot townhouse, and felt like I was the luckiest and richest person in the world. And maybe I just am.

I missed a few things now that I am home:
Tuck
Sierras growing belly
Special K
Snow
Being cold
That kelly green sweatshirt that says Martha's Vineyard
Liam Thompson
Greys Anatomy
My big refrigerator
I forgot I built a lovely deck
And I forgot I put in gorgeous new doors

Life will mix you up, and confuse you, but I am telling you,
it is so much more fulfilling going through it through the eyes of gratitude.
-amy

It Was You.

A lovely girl that I met over here in the middle of no where Africa told me the other night that she was a giver. She was a giver that had been drained, and emptied out by life, and she came here to refill. It was a simple concept to her, but a profound one to me.

As I write this final entry from computer number 37 at the internet cafe in Obz, Capetown, South Africa on the 92 day of my trip. I am exhausted. I leave for the airport in less than an hour and actually am looking forward to 24 hours of time alone to reflect, to put things in their place in my mind, and to prepare to return to the normalacy of my life.

Perhaps I came here on that cold day in November empty too. So exhausted by life and tired by work to even notice the empty. But this trip has changed me, it has made me more than who I was. It has made me layers deeper with understanding, and scraped off layers of selfishness.

I have survived snakes, spiders, heat, rhinos, aids, tb, malaria, ten flights, two house robberies, 50 very dangerous car rides atleast, stomach flu, hiv, and over a hundred bug bites.

It was you.

I know that it was God looking out for me on this trip because I think He called me to come here. But it was you, my thoughtful friends' cards, my faithful friends' prayers, my parents amazing intrigue with the smallest details of this trip, my brother's missing of me, my emails, my facebook messages, my phone calls, my christmas cards, my galleries incredible understanding of me needing to take risks as an artist, your patience, your letting go of me, your accepting me back, your longing to see me again, your wishes for my safety and for my growth, your 20 dollars you shoved in my pocket on the way out the door, your care for my home, your care for my mail and finances, your inspiration, your faith, your prayers and your love.

You are the reason I will fly home today across almost two oceans with only a little cough and ear infection, but with a heart so full it could burst.

I am full. With tears in my eyes I am ready. I am fulfilled. Im opptimistic. I am happy. I am grateful. I feel full of worth and luck. I am stronger and I am more, and I was able to go to Africa because I could come home to you.

I love you all. You have blessed my life in millions of ways and may I come home with new eyes and a renewed spirit and the air of fulfilling a dream and pass it on to you.

I went to Africa so you didnt have to.
May your life be full.
May your heart be alive.
May you feel ready.
May you feel blessed.

-amy

Lovely Thought

Everyone who has the courage to say what he feels in his heart
is in direct contact with God.
-paulo coelho

Another

Whenever man walks the path of faith with sincerity,
he becomes capable of growing closer to God
and capable of miracles.
-paulo coelho

One more

The best way to serve God is by going in search of your own dreams. Only the happy can spread happiness.
-paulo coelho

Coming Home In The Right Perspective

Things I want to carry over from this Sabela...

1 Give what you can give. Keep this on the front burner of your life.
2 Do what you can do. Everyday.
3 Realize that wealth has absolutely nothing to do with money.
4 Count your blessings. Everyday just name one.
5 Speak from your heart all the time.

When you checkout, smile at people, ask the how they are doing, dont be a rush, no one else is, and then make them laugh. Then just watch what happens.

No matter what, accept that it is really not about you. That would be just too simple. Life would be so unfulfilling if there was only you on this planet.

I think enlightenment is all about giving and giving and giving of yourself. Give your time, give your heart, give five bucks, give somebody a lift, give a car a jump, carry someones groceries, grab the door for someone, hold a childs hand, plow a driveway, do some work for free, dont expect something back, visit someone who is lonely, give whatever you dont need, say something sweet, give a compliment, and it will come back to you twofold.

Maybe it wont come back to you in money, but maybe in revelations, maybe in strength, in faith, maybe it will come back to you in love.

Trust God. Be Strong. Take Heart. Wait for the Lord. and Keep The Faith.
-amy

What I Learned In Africa To Be Grateful For:

today I am grateful that I had three wonderful parents that loved me and raised me
for everyday that I feel like I am someone special
that I have my very own bed that is clean, comfortable and soft
that the air I breathe is clean, fresh, and not laced in sickness and disease
that I have the opportunity to eat a variety of delicious and healthy food
for any type of privacy

that I am surrounded by beautiful attainable nature
that today my head and my stomach dont ache
that I dont have to live outside and sweat in the heat constantly
for a home with a roof that keeps out wind, rain and sand
for shoes that are comfortable and protect my feet from bleeding
for clothes that fit me correctly

im grateful that I am allowed to dream of a bright future
that my country protects me and really does want the best for me
that I am able to be an individual
that the sink will offer me clean water that wont make me sick
that I can leave my house and walk down the street and i will be safe

that I have a chance to give what I have
that I have the tools available to me to study something, practice it and get better at it
that people actually voice that they love me all the time
that my country cares about the planet and it's animals
for silence and for peace

my God preaches forgiveness
that I get paid to do what I love to do
that I dont have to work in back breaking physical labor and earn almost no money
that my friends are my family
that I was somehow born into my blessed life
that no matter what i have, i am beyond wealthy in my blessings.
-amy

Things I WILL MISS about Africa

I will miss Ibanathi (uncle bill), cadbury milk chocolate, stomp the rhino, the sisis four part harmony singing, the hyenas call, the cicadias, reed frogs, kite spiders, the elephants, zero, volleyball, karen's raisin bread cake, howzit, izzit and lekker, toddler bath time, my outdoor shower, giraffe, dung beetles, locusts, lemon cookies that taste like fruit loops, The Green Dolphin, Table Mounain's tablecloth, shosholosa, the John Barry soundtrack, driving too fast in the bush, the Landrover, snakes, the jackalberrys and marulas, all day breakfasts involving croissants and eggs, Harry's Pancakes, especially the banana caramel pancake, maynards, hugging little black kids all day, georgina, lauren, mandy and anna, my time for reflection, the doctor and his wife, rholene, kim, keenan, ed, and ursula, flip flops every day, 75 degree perfection in capetown, Constantia, Stellenboch, Cape of Good Hope, OBZ cafe's total tandori pizza for $2.50 on wednesday nights, cheap food prices, the beautiful accents, the country gables b&b, jo, mike, the secret thumb code hand shake, great white sharks, sisi photoshoots, christian, kirstenboch gardens, whirls, siver trees, shot gunning beer showers in 100 degree nights, lance, duncan, kat, rob, a sense of forgiveness, amanda next to my side, yehbo, my journal, the students, and the indian ocean.

Things I will NOT MISS about Africa.

I wont miss bunk beds, bed bugs, high winds, hostels, cigarette butts, being woken up at four am by drunks, skin infections, snot, crying, lack of privacy, 13 card solitaire, my three ugly tshirts, minibus honking, taxi fares, cockroaches, bad radio stations, bad commercials, the screaming sisis, the heat, the constant gross sweating, Denis, Jacob, rumors, cans of hot soda with straws, fear of robbery, fear of rape, getting up at 5 am, my headlamp, my lime green nalgene bottle, breaking out, being locked in jail at night at the orphanage, diarrhea, the smell of sickness, showers that flood, antibacterial gel, warm milk that somehow never goes bad, shitty products that break before you get them out of the store including notebooks, pens, bottles, suitcases, you name it, the drive to Bap, mice, more mice, ten toddlers crying at once, dialing 50 numbers to call home, messing up the 49th number, starting over, non phone answerers, 6-7pm at Bap, snoring, 6:45 am 150 bottles to make, feeling sick, severe ear infections, sitting outside in the cold on the phone with a blanket over your head to block the wind, trying to keep the cockroaches away, and keeping one eye on the wall for robbers, robbers, the stickyness of the bottles after they are in the cleaning solution, how whatever you have your heart set on in africa, is probably sold out, or closed, or broken in some way, power outages, gross stew, sausage, sand paper towels to shower with, riding in any sort of a mini bus, forever, feeling 80% healthy, horrible guides that work at Kruger, "welcome to capetown," watered down dish soap, my heavy ass backpack, the sound of puking, lesson planning, mattresses that wrap you up like a burrito, the bathroom where nightmares are born at the Ngxingxolo school, and the complete and utter lack of privacy.

Mad Jack

This is the story of how I know God is perfect.

I bought a pair of Tevas for this trip. Nice brown ones to wear as really good African water shoes. Good, solid, thick soled, cover your whole foot, hip, comfortable sandals.

They have come in handy here and there, but I really haven't needed them much. A couple weeks ago, I went back and forth on whether or not to bring them to my final project on the Indian Ocean, because they are pretty heavy and take up valuable space. I finally decided, that yes I had better take them along. Though sure enough, two weeks later and I hadn't put them on once.

I went to pack them to come home tonight and decided I just couldn't be bothered to take them any further in my travels. So, I gave them to Jo to take to her adult computer class this evening and give them to Pumla, the preschool teacher, who is a great link to the community of Chintsa.

Turns out, Pumla was late tonight, but Mad Jack, was perfectly on time.

Mad Jack, is mad, and named by the locals after the crazy funnyness of Jack Russells. Mad Jack does not usually hang out near the school, but he is seen within a 10 mile radius often shuffling through the streets, singing to himself. Tonight though, there he was and he asked Jo for a cigarette, like he does everytime he sees her, and she told him she doesn't smoke just like every other time he had asked.

As he shuffled away though, she remembered the shoes and said "but Jack, I do have a pair of shoes." He turned around. She said "what size do you wear?" and Jack told her a 7 which in America would be an 8. My exact size.

He saw the shoes and his eyes lit up, and his smile widened. He quickly dropped his plastic bag that he was carrying which contained a piece of wood, and a pair of loafers that had two soles that were 3/4 of the way peeled off and broken. He ran barefoot to the shoes, sat down, and tried them on.
They were a perfect fit.

When Jo gives volunteers things away to Pumla like most of the time, she says that while they are grateful they dont say much, just pick out a couple of things and leave...

But Jo said that she has never seen a person so happy in her entire life. She said that Mad Jack walks miles and miles everyday on hard, hot rocky roads, that demolish car tires let alone feet. Roads that aren't fit for a horse to walk down.

He stood up in his new shoes and began to dance. He shuffled down the street across to the right and then back across the street to his left. He said "thank you sisi!" and the children laughed and began to follow him down the street as he knocked on strangers doors to show them his new shoes.

Jo, who has seen alot, alot of poverty, disease, hard times, misfortune, pain, death, everything, she told me this story with tears in her eyes. You can bet that they welled up in mine as well.

She said "Amy, you made a man very happy tonight with your giving."

Friends, this is not my story. It is too beautiful and too perfect. This is God's story.

He put the shoes in my life, he put the high quality long lasting Tevas in my bag for Africa, and just as I was about to leave them in Capetown, he put them again into my bag for Cintsa. Then, he made me leave them there.

God knew that Mad Jack wore a size 8, just like me, long before I bought those shoes.
This happened on the very last night of my 90 days of volunteering.
I stayed exactly this long, for this reason.

This story is perfect.

-amy

My Last Day On The Job

Three hours ago I said good-bye (sala kakuhle) to my last student. I am exhausted from teaching if you can believe that and am excited to be finished. Tomorrow I will have a couple of hours in Capetown to complete my final blog from the shores of South Africa, so stay tuned, there should be some good stuff!
-amy

For Yourself.

You must listen to the elephant

You must smell the summer
You must taste the gem squash
You must make the children laugh
You must hug the Sisis
You must observe the pride of the people
You must see the bee eaters
You must listen to the cheetah purr
You must feel the wrongdoing of a country
You must witness the forgiveness
You must slow yourself to African time
You must taste the sweet wine of the beautiful land
You must listen to where the two oceans meet
You must lose your balance to the cape doctor
You must listen to the ancient languages
You must make short lefts and wide rights
You must stick to the middle
You must savor the rich wonderful chocolate chilled
You must marvel at the insects and the spiders
You must gasp at the African Rock Python
You must giggle with the baby Rhino
You must wrap your arms around South Africa
And then tuck it safe in your heart.

Leaving the Bush Again February 7th 2009

Leaving the bush, I feel very content. We came, we did a good job, we sweat, we laughed, we cried, we fulfilled the mission and represented our country well.

I wish I could put the canyon, the green hills, the sunflowers, the smell of summer, the beautiful accents, the wide smiles, the soundlessness of the elephant, the sun's intensity, the quiet, the mystery and the peace into a box.

I would give this box to everyone I know upon my return. Unfortunately, I cannot give this gift.

You have to come fetch it yourself.

If you dont make it here though, I hear that heaven looks alot like this place, accept perfect. Maybe I am not sad because I will be back again.

Chintsa

I have found myself yet in a new place, deep down against the Indian Ocean in a tiny town called Chintsa. Which you wont easily be able to pronouce because the Ch make a "t" cluck sound when your toungue touches the roof of your mouth. The school I work in is worse... Ngxingxolo and there is a cluck on both x's. Try that one!

The town is lovely, very hilly green and mountainous, cows, chickens, goats, roosters, dogs and cats are everywhere, people are dressed in their bright aqua dresses, and red headpieces, floral prints and white toothy smiles. I walk down the big hill every morning to where we meet for school and the silver Indian Ocean plays before me. Next to it a lovely beach full of white sands, and millions of seashells that have washed up here as well.

The other evening storm clouds moved in, but it didnt stop the hundreds of men and boys that were practicing soccer on the beach. Nor did it slow down the two women who run the preschool. Although both are in their older ages, they used a spade and a shovel like a tireless teenager. Their backs are as strong as their minds, hearts and traditions. We couldnt hold a candle to their work ethic.

The children are lovely, I teach all ages from 5 to 22. Some high schoolers are 22 and married. At the end of long windy, rocky bumpy roads hundreds and hundreds of students gather in their navy blue sweaters and black pants and skirts with pride to learn. They are attentive, interested and some are very smart. They are excited about Valentines day, curious about white teachers from far away, and their eyes light up at the term, World Cup.

When I walk home along the ocean, I feel sad to know I will never return to this place. I am sure if I come to Africa again, I will want to see new countries, and for some reason... it hurts. It kind of numbs your heart that you are only here to help for such a short time, to make children laugh, and then to never see them again. The place is like out of a dream, and I am sorry to leave it although I know my time has come. It is hard to explain.

Unfortunately I hear random stories about home, and about the chill of fear in the air, and the wind of depression on the horizon. Lets just say Im not running for the plane. Because, while draped in poverty here, we are pretty much all smiles.

I know that it is so hard to remove oneself from where you are in your world and work and life because it is all around you, but at home where we have EVERYTHING, fear and depression lurk, but here where we have NOTHING, there is pride, smiles, and hard work, yet a sense of contentment and happiness. How I wish I could bring these feelings home and spread them out.

I did wake up the other day though on my 82 night of sleeping on terrible mattresses, and said to myself, yep, Im tired, Ive come to do what I said I would, I did a good job, and im ready to go home.

Goodbye SA

Well, today I leave the wonderous land of South Africa. I'm excited to go home, but still my heart is torn because I do love it here and the memories and experiences will forever be with me, until I return again someday. Though I am departing now, I will soon be at home where I can add pictures and have time to write a few more entries, so please keep up. Amy will be here another 2 weeks, so I know she'll have more to add as well. I will miss this place and my life in it dearly. Keep reading as I will write more . . .

Sunday, February 1, 2009 day 72

I just love the first days back to Bap because they go so quickly. Tomorrow is our last day and I feel perfect about it. We have done our time here and I'm exhausted from it. I've learned so so much, and if I stay another week, I might have to bring Bill Cosby home with me.

We have brought in the new bottle system and taught the new volunteers. We have gotten nice gifts for the Sisis to take home for themselves and their families to tell them that they are so special and so needed here. We have put in our suggestions to have two volunteers specifically dedicated to little babies, because we think it would be very successful. The babies would be cared for better, it would help their development physically, emotionally, and socially and they DESPERATELY need more attention.
Amanda and I had a lovely talk tonight about art, God, and life. She is so great one on one. These talks are what make up our strong relationship. There are not many people that I could go spend 80 straight days with, 24/7.
Tonight is my last night alone at the kitchen table in our flat at Bap. Who would have guessed that so much of my growth would happen in the late hours of the night here with my journal. That the next steps of my career and my life would formulate in this tiny little ugly room with handprints on the wall, and mice behind the fridge.
In the prison... or was it the university?
-amy