What I want to be...

"Hey, Christine when you were a little girl, what did you want to be when you grew up?" T.G. asked me today at work. I started to laugh, thinking back on everything I had ever thought of doing in my life.

I recall distinctly two things I wanted to do when I was little. First, I wanted to be a nurse like my Grandma B. She had magic hands that always made me feel better and I wanted to be able to do that for people, because feeling better when you feel crappy is such a wonderful thing. This lasted until the day I was left in charge of my younger siblings and my then obnoxious little brother skinned off his thumb knuckle with his brand new Boy Scout hatchet. I discovered I don't do so well with blood. I did manage to retain enough presence of mind to wrap his thumb in a towel, apply pressure to try to stop the bleeding, and then call our neighbor, Norene, to take him to the doctor for stitches. I think I all but passed out. Thus ended my days of wanting to be a nurse.

Next I wanted to be a teacher like my Grandma O, who taught in the Logan City schools for a very long time. I remember how fun her classrooms looked when I visited her. She had really great bulletin boards full of colour and fun characters. For Halloween, there was an eight foot tall, cone-shaped paper witch with green or orange hair outside her classroom door. Not only was she teaching, but she was being an artist as well. It looked so fun to be a teacher--I wanted to do that. This is the little when-I-grow-up-dream has stayed with me over the years. I think eventually I will teach.

So tomorrow during lunch I'm going to be interviewed by my over achiever co-worker. She's pregnant, on active duty in the Navy and in school with a crazy credit load. She's going to ask me a few questions about what I wanted to be when I grow up. Very fun to think about being a kid again with the open book of dreams ahead of me.

Over the years many variations on this dream have crossed my mind and I've been able to try a lot of things. In many ways I still feel no closer to knowing what I want to be when I grow up. I have discovered that what I want to do is the means to what I'd really like to be when I grow up. Being, in so many ways influences the ability to do. It is by by imagining, then creating and doing--by living--that what I want to be is achieved.

So, what I do want to be? Happy.

And I am.

Taking Chance

I feel this work deserves a little more notice than it's received. The movie is poignant and very moving. I thought it would be a depressing movie, but it's not. I'm not usually a fan of HBO's work, but they got this one right. Movies like this are usually full of politic statements but this one isn't. They simply tell the story of one Marine's journey home through eyes of his escort. I highly recommend it to everyone.

Here's the link to the article, the movie is based on:
http://www.mca-marines.org/gazette/Strobl.pdf

Here's the link to the movie:
http://www.hbo.com/films/takingchance/

You can even download it on iTunes. Yay!

I'm in Love!

His name is Maalim and he’s a baby black rhino. He was abandoned by his herd, because he was born premature and is so small. He is absolutely the cutest, little, ugly thing I’ve ever seen in my life. He was so much fun to watch and I did get to pet him.

More info on Maalim from the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust:

http://www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org/updates/updates.asp?Rhino=1&ID=190

Playing with the animals

At the Animal Orphanage at Nairobi National Park it's possible to play with the animals. I got to play with 3 5-month old cheetahs. It was amazing. Their fur is really coarse and their bodies are so sturdy. Obviously these are not house cats.

Max, the male, loved being stroked. His Mustang purr was incredible rising from the depths of his throat to transmit his pleasure at receiving affection from yet another stranger. He was lovely and very cuddly as you can tell in the second photo.

Liz, the female in the next two photos, was very playful. She was a little jealous of the attention Max was getting and reached out with her front paws to swat at my bottom while I was petting him. She was nipped at my hands with very sharp teeth and hooked her claws into my pants. I had orange-brown muddy paw prints on my legs from her. She is definitely a hunter. She stretched out and invited me to scratch her belly and under her neck--such a pretty kitty. The other cheetah wasn't too interested in being touched. She was content to sit in the corner and watch.

Afterwards, I fed and petted a 7-month old giraffe. I was laughing the whole time, thinking to myself, “I can’t believe I’m really doing this.” It was great.

What a beautiful moment!

It was my party

Okay, Mom, these are for you! Photos of my birthday party as requested. It was a fun night with 10 adults present and discussing the antics of the 5 babies who were also present. Clearly, when you have more couples with young children than singles in the group, the conversation turns to children and the joys of child delivery--all things to look forward to, I suppose. It was a good night and it was especially nice to be home this year. Thanks to all who attended.

First day in Nairobi

First day in Kenya was a bit of an eye opener, and that's a bit of an understatement. We had arrived at 0500 and after driving through the pre-dawn quiet that is downtown Kenya, we headed out to where my friend lives for a few hours sleep. Upon waking up, we headed out for my first true glimpse at what life is like in Nairobi. We went to Kibera Slum--the largest slum in Africa and home to about 1,000,000 people.

Not many "mizungu" (Swahili for white people) go to Kibera, so we attracted a bit of attention. Most people, especially men and children, were eager to show off the little English they knew, so we were greeted many times with shouts of "Hi! How are you?" We would reply to the kids asking the kids, "Sah, sah?" and they would reply "Feet" (fine) or "Poah" (cool). Many kids wanted to shake our hands, so we would make a fist and bump fists with them, thus avoiding the transference of unwelcome germs. Word got around that we were there and on the way out even some of the men were making fists for us to bump.

It was weird, because I wasn't too nervous about walking around Kibera, even though it was probably pretty dangerous for us, as I learned after reading some articles about the place upon my return to the U.S. The only time I got nervous, was on our way out when we got in a bit of a bottleneck where everyone was trying to get out the same way and some water trucks were blocking the way. My counter-IED training kicked in and I started thinking, "Okay, is this on purpose? Are they forcing us in here to try to hurt us or rob us?" But I soon realized that they weren't and quickly found a way around the crowd.

It was a memorable day. On our way out to the main road it was all I could do not to have tears running down my face. My heart literally hurt and as I write this and remember my heart hurts again. Even after seeing the reality here, it's absolutely unimaginable to me how people manage to live like this, but they do and many with hope of something better.

This is a photo of the "river" that runs through the middle of the slum. The homes and businesses are built on a mountain of filth and rubbish with sewage running down the middle of the streets. There is also frequent flooding here. You have to be careful where you step, because you could easily slip and end up stepping into something awful.

Okay, I want to learn to carry things on my head. Look at her perfect posture and gracefulness. It was amazing how the women could walk through a crowd without losing their balance and keep their packages on their heads. I never saw a man carrying anything on his head, only the women. This woman is walking through the main market street of Kibera that lines the train tracks there, and she doesn't miss a beat.

This is the main market street lining the train tracks. Everything is sold here that you would need in order to live--shoes, clothes, coffee thermoses, fruits and vegetables that looked on the verge of being rotten to me, and lots and lots of other items needed for everyday life. The train tracks are in use and the locals know the schedule, so they clear the tracks ahead of time.

We visited the medical clinic where my friend volunteers. This is their blood lab. They have a small pharmacy that doesn't have much. However, the thing that makes this clinic special is that they have a sonogram machine and a licensed technician who runs it. Many of the locals who volunteer here are members of the LDS church. By the way, here you don't volunteer for free. Each volunteer gets paid a small wage for their work. For one girl I spoke with working in the clinic is her only job and the only way to pay for school. She is studying to be a public health administrator.

This is what really gets at your heart. These are a few of the pre-K children of the largest school in Kibera. They are so alive, and full of light and hope. I learned at the clinic that most children have some sort of fungal disease, and 1 in 5 will probably die of malnutrition. The parents of these children have more money than others because they can afford to send their children to this school. One of the marks of a good school is whether or not they teach kids English. This one does and it's a Christian school too.

Yeah, I look really out of place here. The buildings behind me are typical of what I saw here.

Wickipedia has some great information about Kibera: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kibera

In particular the phenomenon of Flying Toilets and what they've done to stop them.

BBC reporter Andrew Harding wrote a series of 4 articles about life in Kibera. He describes it much better than I do. It's worth reading. The links to the articles are here:

Journey into Kibera: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/2297237.stm

A Night in Nairobi's Slum: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/2297259.stm

Kibera's Children: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/2297265.stm

Escaping Kibera: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/2297279.stm

Everything's amazing and we aren't happy

So, my sister-in-law sent this clip to me and it really resonated with everything I've seen and experienced over the past year. I think Louis CK, the comedian featured in the clip, really says something that more of us should listen to.

Unfortunately, the embedding was disabled on YouTube, but here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoGYx35ypus

Vanity Fair did a follow up interview with him about this clip. I'll give you fair warning, VF doesn't edit out the language.

http://www.vanityfair.com/online/culture/2009/03/02/louis-ck-starvation-can-be-character-building.html

It's just a different voice saying many of the same things are church leaders have been saying. However, people are paying attention to this guy. I find it all interesting and hope you do too.

Glimpses of Rome

In Ancient Rome, there are mazes of narrow, cobbled streets and while I would love to walk every one there is only time for a glimpse as I pass by. It is difficult to capture the whole scene, so the following photos are glimpses of Rome taken while out for an evening walk.

Piazza di Spagna with the lights of evening.

Reminders of Madonna and Child everywhere you look. This one is inside the Pantheon.

The piazza and entrance to the Pantheon. Apparently the original street was about 6 feet lower, so it would have been even more imposing.

Arches, arches everywhere and Via Giulia is one of the most beautiful and leads to a terrace along the Tiber River.

A scene at Piazza Navona. It's difficult to capture the whole place, so I only took photos that are glimpses or pieces of the entire scene.

The church at Piazza Navona bathed in the golden light of a Roman sunset.

Street corners are often outdoor museums. Often they are reminders that God and the Madonna should be ever present in one's life.

A Roman in all his glory standing watch on a bridge.

Just a few glimpses of a city that captured me for a few days.