Today's blog post is actually in video form. Friends of Blood:Water sent in questions about my new memoir, "One Thousand Wells," releasing August 25. If you'd like to know anything about my book, please leave a question in the comment field of this blog post. I'd love to answer as many questions as I can. https://vimeo.com/134614440
You can pre-order my memoir at onethousandwells.com.
Today, my amazing husband James turns 38. I have been witness to 8 of those 38 years, and they have made my life all the sweeter. James is in Kenya today, as he tends to be on many of his birthdays, so this is my celebration of 38 memories and characteristics I love about James. (Happy Birthday, love.)
1. Kindly offering me directions to the subway, the first time you and I met in New York.
2. Remembering my name the second time we met, in a line in Amsterdam.
3. Learning that you were six when you decided to be a vegetarian, which inspired me later to become a (mostly) vegetarian
4. Your heart for the poor, and the sacrifices you make to serve and love them
5. Your passion for and belief in the power of girl’s education around the world
6. The leadership you have provided and the kinship you have built with an entire community of change-makers in Lwala, Kenya
7. Your insatiable love for people, and your curiosity about who they are and what they care about
8. Your love letters, from 8 years ago up to today
9. Our shared adventures around the world - Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, South Africa, Mexico, Costa Rica, Netherlands, England, France, United Arab Emirates
10. You’re an ENFP, which is the perfect compliment to my INFJ
11. My concept of Broadway was Lion King, until you brought me to August Osage County and Disgraced
12. You taught me that basil and pesto are related - and to like them both.
13. I even put a little siracha on my stir-fry these days
14. Your love of Shakespeare and the invented words he brought into the world
15. Your humor, even when I miss the joke but everyone else laughs
16. The world you create for baby Jude - full of exploration, wonder and joy
17. The world you create for me - full of adventure, partnership and being known
18. Surprising me with a ring and a promise on YOUR 30th birthday
19. Your love of New York and Boston, and the experiences in the theater and those cities that shaped you today
20. The nights you woke me up to show me research and graphs that you found fascinating at midnight
21. The way you come home from a bike ride and a This American Life and re-tell the entire podcast for me
22. The way you hold your faith with conviction but don’t force it onto others
23. Your ability to communicate and teach in a way where your audience truly learns
24. Your loyalty to lifelong friends like Tara, Chad, Hanneke, Maja, Emily, and Ken who have now become my dearest, too
25. Running outside with Jude when it starts to pour, so he can feel the world on his skin
26. Feeding Jude peanut butter and Indian food to ensure that your favorites become his
27. Co-writing with me and believing in me more than I ever have myself
28. The way you make Jude laugh bigger than anyone else, and being his best wrestling buddy
29. The way your leadership in Lwala has saved countless lives of mamas and babies over the last 6 years
30. Bringing me to our St. A’s community and teaching me to love the rhythm of the liturgy and sacraments
31. Your love for Penn State and endurance through the disappointments
32. The way you root for a football team that majors in defense (Niners!)
33. Not being afraid to talk to strangers or to tell someone no, and doing those things on my behalf, too
34. Your love of ideas and the way they become realities
35. The sacrifices you are making today to say a bigger yes to me and Jude, even when it hurts to say no to others
36. Your collaborative spirit and the belief in the non zero sum game of sharing and generosity
37. Your love and commitment to our families, through all of the ups and downs
38. And finally...your dance moves
Happy Birthday, James. What a life. It is such a gift.
p.s. I love the bow tie.
https://vimeo.com/133782826 For the past few years, I have poured my heart and soul into my memoir, "One Thousand Wells." It releases August 25. Watch this video to catch a glimpse into the story that taught me how to love the world instead of save it.
July 18 is Nelson Mandela International Day. It's celebrated every year on his birthday. I'm bringing back a post I wrote in 2013, five months before Mandela's death while he was ill. I said in the post I wasn't ready for a world without Mandela. That still holds true today.
July 10, 2013 — My introduction to Africa was as a college student on a study tour to South Africa in 2004. I did my best to understand the complexity of race, economic disparity and a devastating history of apartheid. Nearly a decade later, I still don’t understand it. I continue to feel as uncomfortable in South Africa today as I did as a college student.
Roger Cohen provided a beautiful op-ed in the New York Times, reflecting ironically on the ease he had growing up as a Jew in South Africa, while blacks endured the crippling violence and oppression as victims of apartheid. While Cohen’s family picnicked on Table Mountain, Nelson Mandela spent another day of his 18-year imprisonment on Robben Island (27 years total imprisonment). The juxtaposition of free and oppressed was real, and it was cruel.
We continue to rejoice that apartheid is no more, at least legally. South Africa is still broken today and separation continues to live on – just as it does in every place where there has been a history of violent oppression.
And yet, Nelson Mandela has unified a nation in a way that most people didn’t believe possible. He is a hero, a man who transcended the underbelly of injustice with vision, patience and endurance. He made us believe that we can triumph over the depravity of others, and of ourselves, with love.
We need heroes to call us to our better selves. We need them to remind us that we can love better, that we must love better. I am not ready for a world without Mandela in it. I know none of us are.
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As I spent the week in Haiti, the consistent narrative in my head was the theme of just passing through. I was coming as a tag-along (with a family foundation on whose board I serve) to a country I have never been, nor spent much time learning about. My interactions would be brief and superficial. Passing.
So in moments when I could go one step further to truly get to know someone or stay out later with the team, I declined. I'm passing through, I thought. Save for the dramatic impact of the 2010 earthquake, I am clueless about the cultural cues, political realities, historical wounds or triumphs that inform Haiti today.
But in the experience of visiting a country that is unfamiliar to me, and in this arms-distance attitude, I am surprised by one overwhelming distinction of this trip compared to my recent visits across Africa:
I felt so much.
I saw poverty with fresh eyes. And injustice. And babies and their mamas. And mountains and a bay of water. Cinder block homes and scrambled roads. Sunsets, colors, vibrant urban life. Spicy food and rainstorms. I could feel Haiti in a way that I haven't been able to in Africa due to a familiarity that numbs the sensations of place.
And as a new mother, I could feel the protection and love I wanted to extend to the twin babies in the safe house on the border of the Dominican Republic, and to the teenage girls who are growing up together in the safety and care of the transitional home and for the baby girl the same age as my Jude who was in physical therapy to build muscle in her atrophied legs.
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My greatest tour guide of the week was Haitian author, Edwidge Danticat, as I read her memoir, Brother I'm Dying. I felt her every word, sentiment and description of her home country, even with as passing a visit as I had. There's a whole layer of human and familial suffering that I don't know from personal experience, and I am soft, not exposed enough to know if I could be as resilient as so much of humankind has had to be.
But I fly home with the sense that maybe my visit to Haiti has and will impact me more than I'd like to let on. I can't seem to shake it like I thought I would. I sit with emotions I can't identify.
Maybe there was a room that needed expanding or reorganizing. I'm moved and vulnerable in it. I want to go home and hold my baby fiercely to my chest and never let him go. I want to look James in the eye and remind ourselves that the three of us are the most precious gifts we have for each other in this passing life. And nothing should cause us to forget that.
In a world as wild and unpredictable as the one we occupy, the only way to navigate it and make meaning in what we encounter is by holding closely to each other, and then being willing to continue to give ourselves away so that other families can do the same.
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My short trip to Addis Ababa was powerful in so many ways. It was my first time to back to visit a Blood:Water partner since I was pregnant with Jude in 2013. It was also my first visit to Ethiopia - and to see the work of our HIV support to our partner, ACT Ethiopia. I had the gift of walking through Suki, being welcomed into the homes of new friends and hearing their brave and remarkable stories. I have so many to share, but here are a few remarkable people you should know.
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Suki is an informal settlement on the southwestern edge of Addis - where most residents of the capital city have never heard of - it's a dwelling by default, because there is nowhere else in the city to stay. The families here are dramatically overlooked, and those who are HIV positive have endured traumatic experiences of loss, abuse and isolation.
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Meeting Ehetenesh nearly broke me. She is an HIV positive single mother of two small children. One night, a man came into her home with the intent to sexually abuse her 3-year-old daughter, and Ehetenesh offered herself as a substitute for her daughter. She became pregnant with twins, and endured a bought of tuberculosis during the pregnancy, which caused her to lose one of the babies. The surviving twin, Yonathan, is now 10-months-old and still HIV-free.
Ehetenesh acknowledged that cannot speak regularly of these past experiences because she does not want to hate her baby. I couldn't blame her.
"I am a free woman," she said surprising me with her resilience, "both physically and spiritually." Ehetenesh is an active member of the ACT program and receiving HIV treatment. "The support group really cares for one another. They cared for me when I was sick. They packed lunches for my children and took them to school. I thought the community would stigmatize me, but they have been helpful and kind."
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The next day, we met Alem, a 45-year-old widow with a 9-year-old boy Tigstu (means His Patience) and a 4-year-old girl Banchamlak (means By Your God). Both children are negative. They live on a mountain community next to Suki, called Fana. Alem has received care through ACT over the last two years. Her CD4 was 140 and it's now up to 360.
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"I used to be beggar. I couldn't help my neighbors or be a part of the community. But now I am well, I am weaving baskets and baking injera to sell in the area. I can now be a part of the community, I can attend funerals, I can help the sick." Alem's faith in Jesus is her rock, giving her the confidence that she can face anything. She has become an ambassador in her neighborhood, visiting others and encouraging them to get tested for HIV.
Alem's hope for her future is that her children continue with an education and that they thrive. Alem has requested that the blood:water community remember her and her children in their prayers.
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While ACT's primary beneficiary is the HIV-infected and affected family in Suki, they are also focused on the well-being of vulnerable non-HIV families, especially in the areas of malnutrition and mental illness. Dejene & Asalefech are not HIV positive, but their two week old twin boys (Isaac & Nathaniel) were only 1kg each. They were severely malnourished and they searched for help for two weeks, eventually learning about ACT.
The ACT team has been providing formula, water purification packets and other basic resources that the family has been needing. Four months later, the twins are healthy, vibrant and full of life. "We were so worried about our babies," the father said. "Thank you for what you have done, and thanks to God that we can praise Him as our children are getting better."
Fantaye & Kombi-Ketere
When Fantaye's first husband died, she feared that it might be HIV. Eight years ago, at the age of 52, she met and fell in love with 60-year-old Kombi-Ketere. She attended a health and water treatment education outreach hosted by ACT and she learned about ACT and their testing services. When she tested positive, she told Kombi (who was negative), and contrary to most spousal reactions of rejection and abandonment, Kombi held her. He feared that if people found out Fantaye was positive, that people would try to separate them.
He suggested they leave Suki and hide away in his family's village so they do not lose each other. This demonstration of love is like nothing anyone has seen before. When the ACT nurse Hiwot began working with them, she assured them that they didn't have to disclose any information to the community and they could stay together. They continue to monitor Fantayes's health and provide support to ensure that it is not transfered to Kombi-Ketere.
Fantaye feels significantly better since starting ART and ACT gave her a watch to help alarm her when it's time for her to take her medication. "Because of God and ACT, we are well. Our medical and food expenses are covered. When we are facing challenges, they are praying for us. We are living full of joy, love and comfort. This organization has helped us so much. May The Lord bless you for all of your efforts."
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I have taken in a lot this week: the horrific combination of HIV/AIDS and abject poverty; the social isolation of stigma and fear; the overwhelming stories that tempt one to question the goodness of God; the transformative power of social workers and nurses who walk with those who feel as though they have no one to go to; the Lazarus effect of bodies and souls that rise with access to medication, nutrition, education, acceptance and community; and the lasting belief that everyone - no matter your story - should be graced with second chances. I am so proud of Blood:Water's choice to champion a partner and a community that go - and stay - in the hard places.
After a 24-flight delay (thanks to two dramatic inches of snow in Nashville), we finally embarked on our first trip to Kenya as a family of three. The only benefit of traveling with a baby (and I promise, there is only one) is that they put us in the bulkhead where there was more leg room in front for Jude to move around. A baby bassinet hangs from just below the TV - but Jude was a little too big to fit comfortably in the makeshift crib. So he ended up on James' lap for most of the 20+ hour journey (Saint James).
And after flights from Nashville to Detroit to Amsterdam to Nairobi - and after forgetting to pack CASH for visa entries - we made it! (And so did that other guy).
By the way, who gets on a plane for a month to Africa with only $47 dollars in her wallet? Yep, that crazy lady with a stuffed giraffe hanging from her side. Thankfully James happened to have some random Kenyan shillings to cover our difference.
We spent Sunday getting acquainted with our Airbnb furnished apartment and reuniting with one of my best friends, Autumn, who is joining us for the week during her R & R from her intense humanitarian work in South Sudan. James introduced me to some other working moms he knows through his NGO contacts and arranged for driver and nanny support while he works from Lwala. We oriented ourselves to the peculiarities of the water pump and heater, the occasional power outages and the 84 steps (yes, I counted) that it takes to get up to our top floor apartment. Here is our view from the patio:
Dealing with the jet lag with an eleven month old has made that previous international flight feel quite mild. An upside down clock for a baby is not something you can reason your way out of. So each morning, Jude and I have been walking down the 84 steps and across the street to a nearby cafe to shake off the long (or rather, short) nights. At that time of day, the air is a perfect 60 degrees before the warmer sun comes out. Jude has won over our regular waitress, Jane, and he loves to interact with anyone there who will give him attention.
Which is why he was in extroverted baby heaven when the Kenyan national rugby team showed up for an early breakfast yesterday!
Scrambled eggs AND rugby players who think he's cute? What more could baby Jude ask for?
Well, how about playing with baby elephants?
Autumn, Jude and I visited the Sheldrick Trust where there is an elephant orphanage, and an opportunity to interact with the baby elephants. It was such a great experience - an intimate hour-long program that allows you to learn about the protection and preservation of wildlife, and to see (and touch) the 30 elephants in their care.
Their skin felt like you were touching a dirt path. Not so sure if Jude was truly taking this in. (He'll probably love to see these pictures of him when he gets older, right?)
So if the baby elephants weren't enough, we thought we would stop by the Giraffe Center to feed the giraffes. It's a delight to get to be so close to them. Jude wasn't as delighted, but I'd say he was cautiously interested.
Oh, and it was such a gift to share the experience with Autumn. For so many reasons - but shared histories and common passions in the world make for rich and enduring friendships.
Besides enjoying the elephants and giraffes, it's been lovely to catch up over meals together and enjoy the familiar company of a dear friend.
It's possible that Autumn and I were more excited about the excursion than Jude was because when we got home, Jude returned with great vigor to his favorite activity: blocks in a can.
So, I didn't remember to bring any cash for our month in Kenya, but I did, however, find a way to pack Jude's can and blocks from Nashville. (Saint Jena).
“There is ecstasy in paying attention...Anyone who wants to can be surprised by the beauty or pain of the natural world, of the human mind and heart, and can try to capture just that - the details, the nuance, what is. If you start to look around, you will start to see.” - Anne Lamott
