Love After Love

When not good enough...

2011-04-03T05:34:00.000+02:00

is good enough.

Back. From another whirlwind trip in a far off land. Some very sweet and laughter filled sessions with old friends as well unexpected new ones.

During my first yoga session at this new studio, the teacher spoke about having a compassionate heart, both towards ourselves and to the world around us. She also spoke about how maintaining a compassionate heart throughout life, the mundane moments, heartbreak, impulsion, disappointments, stress, onslaught of everyday demands - is perhaps the hardest thing to do - to live from that place of compassion.

While by no means a a new thought - I feel like I've heard many variations of this thought over the years, her words struck me in a different way this time... For the first time in a long time I felt embraced, held in a very sweet and safe spot.

On the flight back home I read the following self description by author Heather Havrilesky: "I am not and was never going to be the relaxed, organized, manicured career mom, any more than I was going to be the shiny, effusive cheerleader or the diligent Gap employee or the virginal good girl, or the wise young lady who dates only responsible, emotionally available guys. I am a disorganized, melancholy second-guesser who rhapsodizes a little too loudly over the pleasures of a cold beer at the end of a long day. I am enthusiastic, yes, and passionate, sure, but I am also fundamentally ambivalent, angst ridden, and conflicted. I am distracted, overwhelmed, and mostly unprepared for whatever lies ahead."

Man, that made me laugh. Because I can very much relate. And to think that we spend, or at least I spend so much time trying to be that first half, instead of just celebrating the reality of the latter.

So this week... good enough, as the first step towards a life lived with greater compassion. :)

Random Thought

2011-02-07T20:07:00.000+02:00

So re-entry is confusing. There are moments when I feel incredibly relieved at the relative ease of it all, the normalcy so to speak... waking up, pouring a cup of coffee, not rushing off to work, reading through the paper, sifting through memories, cataloging photos.

Then there are the other moments... of feeling deeply lonely, of just wanting to talk for hours with someone who can relate to the multitude of feelings that can overwhelm. The over the top reactions. The apologizing for the over the top reactions. The resenting having to apologize. The zoning out. The numbing relief of losing oneself in TV, books, shopping or other distractions.

Then there is the juggling of trying to bridge the gap between both worlds. You don't want to feel like you leave an entire life behind every time you leave a place... or at least I don't. I deeply desire some kind of continuum between the different moves or shifts. But the incongruity between the different worlds can be mind boggling. There are some gaps you can bridge and others you can't. They're not always obvious.

Time to heal is what Jane calls it. Its a process I guess... yet it can all feel a bit selfish. Or even unnecessary. Or isolating. It's not something you want to go at alone, but it isn't easy to let people in either. Aspects of what you feel are intensely private, and yet you want those feelings to be affirmed as valid by others. Just so you know you're not crazy. :) Its a lot to ask.

Treasures: Mobile Bay

2011-02-06T05:11:00.000+02:00

Objects of Obsession 05/02/11

2011-02-06T03:36:00.001+02:00

I have been obsessing lately on all things house decor as well as the spring and summer collections of certain designers... yes. I am a little late to the game when it comes to the SS collections, but that is what happens when you lived in Africa circa fall 2010, and the internet connection is about as fast as dial-up circa 1999.

I am in LOVE with the Paul and Joe SS 2011 collection - specially the dress to the right.

Love. Love. Love! Des Petits Hauts. Just wished they shipped. A big thank you to Aurelie for introducing me two years ago...

Yes. I totally bought this as a present to myself for leaving the Congo. Except in angora wool, and calf length, the winter version. And YES, totally AWESOME. Hip hip hurray Helmut Lang!

Life saver for long hauls in the Altanta Airport: Minute Suites !!!

Instead of a car I am tempted to buy this... but I won't. But still... the butter cream yellow leather just makes me want to curl up all day with tea, a silver cigarette holder and macarones.

Smelled Balenciaga for the first time in the De Gaulle airport (again, I've been in Africa for the past 6 years)... yummy!

Also Printemps is the only place I can find at the moment that is selling the Paul and Joe Espiegle shirt in black at the moment... and I so wished I had bought it then and there. Little did I know... sigh.

Gray or Blue

2011-01-17T08:05:00.003+02:00

"Are you too nervous to be lovers? Friendship ruined with one kiss?
I know she is your lover but she is nowhere near your heart... "

Jayman

:)

Pandora

2011-01-10T04:18:00.002+02:00

I heard a song today that made me feel that feeling...
that feeling of being totally madly on the
precipice of falling madly head
over throbbing beat
in love.
Not the gentle sneak up on
you kind of falling in love 'in love'.
But the 'only two on the dance floor',
kaleidescope of fireworks,
sinking through the floor bliss,
I can't wipe this Pandora's box
of JoY
off my face
In love.

That hovering moment
right before
the perfect first kiss
feeling.

Or the ocean falling
into
your eyes
Intensity

That grazing of the cheek,
500 thousand volts
In.Deep.Over.My.No.longer thinking straight. I AM SOOOO GOING TO PAY FOR THIS.
IN.
LOVE.

Final Countdown (insert music here)

2010-10-27T19:25:00.002+02:00

So I have a small weakness for how Italians great each other... with the long drawn out 'Bellas and Bellos", the passionate embraces and just the overall enthusiasm that goes into the entire ritual. Its hard not to feel loved or at least appreciated.

I am not sure where they came from but I felt the need to express it!

I have two and half weeks left in DRC... after three years of living in this place. The nostalgia is beginning to slowly set in for the very same things that drive me bonkers when I am here.

I do not feel like I am going 'home' - rather I feel like I am leaving my home of the last three years... which I realize in and out of itself is a good thing... as I believe it means I invested here. Yet it is an odd feeling to move on, not because one has too: there is no job that has come to an end, no relationship to move for, no better promotion somewhere else... its just what we do. After three years in a place like DRC - one moves on. It is time. Everyone knows it. Its not a permanent option as a 'home', nor should it be really. So one moves on.

Into what? Is the million dollar question at the moment... one I refuse to discuss really... because it stresses me out, because it keeps me from living in the moment, from enjoying the now. Something about turning 30 this year has just made me want to slow down and quit rushing. Possibly because my own mortality feels just a tiny bit more real than it did at 29. :)

Beautifully Put

2010-10-08T13:55:00.002+02:00

"I think that the fact that so many young people are so tormented -- so ostracized by their family, peers, school, and society in general -- that rather than engage and participate in life, they choose to end their life, says a lot about the Christian values that everywhere inform our culture. I think each and every one of us needs to look inside of ourselves and examine those values for both the good and the harm they're doing. What I would also very much like Christians to know is that being gay isn't a choice that anyone makes. It's not a switch you can turn off and on. Gay people were born into creation just like anyone else, and to devalue who they are by insisting God didn't really make them as they are is to deny them the right to a rich and loving relationship with God, and that's a terrible, terrible thing to deny anybody. No one should ever use scripture to justify removing another person from the spiritual process. If you're a Christian, as I am, you should look to Christ for how to live and act toward others. And what does the Great Commandment of Jesus say but that we're all supposed to love our neighbors as we love ourselves? I wish more Christians would remember what Jesus himself told them to do."

From an interview with John Shore on the Huffington Post
Charles Robbins is the executive director and CEO of the Trevor Project, the leading national organization focused on crisis- and suicide-prevention efforts among lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning (LGBTQ) youth.

Dating for Dummies: Lesson 1 - THE LIST

2010-09-22T16:27:00.004+02:00

Ok so background: Minor Crisis on Tuesday Night.

Theme: The USUAL: WTF??!!! Why do I keep dating the usual suspects: crazies, commitment issues, and obvious players.

So D., has set out to correct my erroneous dating ways. Having grown up in a conservative environment where holding hands was frowned upon I am way behind the curve and need much obvious instruction. My first assignment was THE LIST. I don't think I've made a list since I was 15, which is embarrassing enough, so this time it was positively cringe worthy. UGH. Confession: I was only allowed 10, and I went all the way to 16! Apparently, I am very good at the list part. Then she made me cut it down to 8 for realisms sake. Sigh.

The final product with changes (tracked and accepted) by Daphne:

"ok, so i am erasing number 5 b/c unless you plan on dating a Palin, everyone has at least TRAVELED overseas. they don't need to have LIVED overseas. I am also erasing number 8 b/c are you telling me you can't date an IT guy for example? do you think that if you explain to someone what you do they will not get it? they will all get it, and they will all think it's really cool. you don't need someone who has worked in an NGO or has dedicated his life to human rights. you need to keep your personal goals separate from your career goals. any good person will admire you for what you've done, they don't have to necessarily relate to it any more than that.

i'm also erasing the last one - willing to make sacrifices for "us" - this is very important, i agree, but not something you can look for at the beginning. this is something that develops with time. someone may be not willing to compromise on anything in the first month of dating, but after falling in love and committing to you they could be willing to change even their own dreams to follow you.

i have taken the liberty of adding one, as you will see below - great sex life - this is in lieu of "attractive", because at the end of the day, if there's a great connection and the person is really good for you, the sex will be good and you will be super attracted to him, even if he's not objectively that attractive.

i am also getting rid of loyal for the very simple reason that you simply cannot know in the first month or so of dating someone whether he is loyal - this will show itself after lots of time. i'm not saying that loyalty is not important, i'm just saying it's an unfair thing to try to judge from the get-go.

SO - we are now down to 8. let me recap:
1) Kind
2) Has a strong since of who he is and what he wants out of life
(values/beliefs/goals)
3) Makes me laugh hard
4) Love his family/wants family
5) Hard worker
6) I can be myself/easy to talk to/enjoy company
7) Is respectful of me
8) great sex life

I think these are things you need to at least judge whether you want the relationship to go past the beginning stages. What do you think? If you agree, I am going to keep a copy of this, and when you try to bring home another simone, we gonna have words.

You gotta love good friends...

Bad person?

2010-09-22T15:23:00.002+02:00

Am I a bad person?

No seriously, I've been thinking about this a lot lately... I spent the better part of an afternoon a few weeks ago reading through Christianity Today among a few other websites, and I was just struck by this recurring subtext of good versus bad. So black versus white. So cookie cutter clear. The overwhelming thought reading through many of those articles, was "what world do these people live in, where this kind of dichotomy makes sense?", and the emotion was just straight up depression. Not even anger...just a deep sense of sadness even a little bit of desperation.

A dear friend wrote recently asking why I had stopped writing - I answered that it was just laziness but while that is partly true, a large part of it is the above - my inability to articulate my current beliefs or experiences is so amazingly restrained by an awareness of past frameworks that often I feel muzzled. I am keenly aware that I am not 'supposed' to think a certain way much less behave in certain ways.

And yet, at the end of day I can't help thinking ... who cares? In the grand scheme of things does it really matter? For the record, my honest opinion is no. I don't think a lot matters and I mean that in the best way, most hope filled way possible. There are somethings I believe are vital... truly truly worth fighting for and taking a stand on - like dignity, compassion, justice, kindness, beauty, respect, healing, nurture, courage, and love. And I love the reality that these have taken shape and form beyond my wildest dreams and deepest held beliefs. If that makes me a bad person so be it... I think finally, I am comfortable with that.

For John John

2010-09-18T23:48:00.001+02:00

If you find this let me know!! Eh eh eh eh :) Congratulations on GG!!! :P

Leggy affairs

2010-03-02T16:25:00.004+02:00

SO... funny moment of the day.

Getting ready to have my legs waxed, and am shooting the shit with my waxing lady, who ask how my current relationship is going, to which I reply:

"well... not great actually, he's kind of disappeared as of late."

This is met by an awkward silence, raised eye brow, and a nod towards my legs:

"well- has he seen your legs lately?"

She had a point.

? je t'aime ?

2010-02-25T15:06:00.003+02:00

Things I currently love:
1) Lazy sleepy mornings, where you wake up to filtering sunlight, stretch, roll over and snooze again - repeat
2) Coffee in bed
3) Men who bring me coffee in bed
4) Incense and a yoga mat
5) Zen practice
6) The feeling of torrential rain after a solid week in 90 degree weather which high humidity
7) The 'vai e vem' of Kinshasa streets
8) AC in my living room - FINALLY!!
9) Girls night on Fridays
10) Online shopping - oops

Petit Rien

2010-02-25T12:55:00.002+02:00

Little things that annoy me lately for particular and no particular reasons:

1) Status updates on Facebook that no one cares about - eg. "I did my laundry today", "My child had his first poo", "I love Justin Timberlake" - Do. Not. Care.

2) People who write their blogs has if they have some wisdom to impart. I suspect I am guilty of this as well. Specially people who are completely unoriginal and yet for some reason find themselves fascinating. Hence I probably annoy myself a lot.

3)Dogmatic perspectives on life

4)Grown women who talk in little girl voices in professional settings

5) Egos

6) Men who interrupt me when I am speaking

7) Boyfriends who try and 'explain life to you' ;P Did I say boyfriends? I mean boyfriend of course...

8)Girlfriends who no longer know how to converse about something besides their children - love your children! - but also have a life too... would be nice if you asked about it once in a while, with all my love, Sarah

9)Charlie Sheen - seriously?

10)That the Oscars come on some DAMN late for anyone not living in the Americas. Bah umbug.

Dandelion Fluff

2009-12-15T12:23:00.000+02:00

Stalker tendencies. WOW. There are these moments, once in awhile, when I am just hit with a weird sense of nostalgia, an annoying desire to just know - how someone is doing, what they've been up to, if they're happy... etc. Motivation varies. As does the sincerity of my good will towards them.

Facebook does NOT help matters. I am prone to these temporary lapses, and this is why I am not Facebook friends with any of my exes. I have a good friendship with a number of them and I would like to keep it that way.

It is odd though - that someone can be such an integral part of someone's life one moment and then gone the next. Cliche. But. True. And I don't find this natural. Necessary yes. But natural no.

I have moments, when the good will is overflowing... I love my life and I want others to love theirs as well.

And then there are the more needy moments, when I feel adrift and off kilter. Not rooted... and I want some past love affair to reignite and provide either the distraction I so desperately crave, or ground me in an unrealistic hope for a non-existent future so I don't have to deal with the present.

I've spent a lot of time lately... thinking about the future... worrying about decisions, if things are as they should be. It strikes me again and again how much time we lose worrying, feeling anxious, trying to control things that are so amazingly out of our control.

I love moment. Those moments when there is kindness, a gentle softness of being, or a deep sense of gratitude for what is versus what you would like there to be. Those moments seem so rare, so intangible... a bit like dandelion fluff. Full of floating lightness, easy on the eyes and yet hard to catch without mangling them.

I think my nostalgia is a bit like the dandelion fluff... full of air, rose-colored eyes, and yet impossible to retrieve without mangling your heart again.

So for the moment I think its best to let these skeleton flowers float by, and enjoy them for what they are not what you hope them to be or have been.

Balm of Hearts

2009-11-29T19:55:00.003+02:00

Its the little knowing glances,
the eyes that catch and hold
small smiles of common knowing

Its the way your hand cups mine
The smallness and safety of my being
Inside the rest that is your arms

the way you make me feel or
what I feel for you

Knowing you are real
or knowing that I am seen?

Do I love you for your arms or for the
rest that finds me in them?

Brushing of Lips, holding of hands
Small smiles, Nervous laughter,
Tentative hope, gentle Freedoms

Cautious Beginnings

Balm of Hearts

House 5 Attrition

2009-03-11T22:13:00.002+02:00

House 5 Memorable Moments:
80’s party,Pub Crawl,Ngrita nights,Thanksgiving in House 1,Dinners with Jaya,Welfare,Kim’s SMS book,Sunset drinks,Psychological profile meeting,Cosmopolitan,Kim + Fede’s weekend of declaration,Sergio walking into Sex and the City moment,Earthquake,Gilmore Girls,Animal Planet vs. Playboy Bunnies,Fede’s resignation,Apple Crumble,Cheese nights,Francois’ cute accent,Weekends at the dock,“JB” in coordination meeting,Sweeeety,“All the best”,Fede and Jana’s shrink session,Kim meeting Fede’s parents,Kim thinking we are alcoholics,Sarah walking up to Martin after FHI conversation,Sangira with MSF,Kim’s meltdown because of NY,Fede’s meltdown because of Aliou,Brie,Crazy Italian neighbor,Gorillas,Pierre’s PMS,Sitting outside Jane’s/Sergio’s office,UK board visit: Fede getting stuck in the mud,Sarah Kanafani’s yellow heels and mini skirt,Chris’s action pants, Mobutu shoes,Chris’s leaving: out on loan,Chris’s harem,Chris’s stuffed animals in offic,Kierkegaard,Meeting girl at the airport,Cutting his hair,Candlenight dinners,Irene’s pink dress,Marie Honorine’s leaving speech,Coordination meetings, cars leaving on time …,Evacuation drill,Sarah’s “movie nights” with Stefano,Italian quotes,“I am not just a soul, I am a body, too!” (Fede),“Rise and Shine”, “This is the day”,Coughing, burping, barking, farting,Kim’s singing,“Urinates”,Sergio staying with us,Earthquake statue,Papa Jean,Justin: pizza with chocolate, potatoes with cinnamon,Chocolate, cheese, and trashy magazines,Boat rides and Kivu: breaking down!,Rescue onto big boat,Ramming other boat,Fede and Kim bringing back presents from leave,ICRC boat rides,Fight over generator,Scrabble,Monopoly with Isabelle,Karaoke night,Finance controllers,Tommy Lee,ICRC party with fire outside,Jana playing pool,Fede reporting Jana to logs for security breach,Kim’s French: “ordre de mission”,Tennis,Sarah’s messing up the house,Sarah « borrowing » things,House 2 : locking up because military was to come,Kim’s secret dates,Kim’s card nights,Italian Restaurant,Gettign sick at Orchid,Tree and elves at Haloween
Sarah’s alone in house,Sarah’s cuddliness,Fede: 5-date minimum,Fede: sabbatical year,Fede: Zanzibar rasta guy,Martins’ ass – and earring,House 5 fights,Fede’s bras

Pretty!

2009-03-11T21:50:00.001+02:00

Love After Love

2008-10-02T09:28:00.000+02:00

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

-- Derek Walcott

Decent read/explanation

2008-03-20T12:33:00.002+02:00

Behind DR Congo's war games

The Ladies of IRC House 5

2008-02-20T10:58:00.002+02:00

Kim, Sarah, Fede, Jana also known as Sex in the Heart of Darkness. Guess whose who... :)

Safari

2008-01-19T22:08:00.000+02:00

This morning I went on a Safari in my backyard. I have a HUGE backyard and maybe it is therapeutic, or just misplaced maternal instinct but I've had an incredible desire to make things grow lately. I had a container garden in Boston on my porch before I left and it was by no means a masterpiece but it was rather pretty and I absolutely loved having something to look after and nurture. Even if it was just a couple of plants. So this morning for reasons still unclear to me I decided that I need a garden. Thankfully outside of my cottage they're a series of pots with defunct plants left by a former somebody and the only thing I had to do was to find replacement plants. Hence the Safari.

I live in my own cottage on the property of another IRC house and subsequently the yard is ridiculously large. And until now largely unexplored (not really but I liked to think so). It was one of those amazingly beautiful days with deep blue skies, large fluffy clouds and the occasional sprinkling of rain. The smell was unbelievable -- half Spring, half rain forest and 100% dew. I spent a solid 20 minutes on the veranda just smelling and watching. The beautiful thing about the Kivus is despite all the rain it is never humid -- the climate is forever temperate.

My safari was successful! I found huge bunches of mint, rosemary, a couple of straggling basil plants, and untold amounts of white and pink impatience --- all easily transplantable. So I planted:

Mint, basil, white impatience, rosemary, and a spiky little blue green thing... not much to look at yet but I am optimistic.

The beautiful day...

I find container gardens less threatening than entire yards -- as I can figure out what to do with 5 or 6 pots but I get lost when trying to design and plant for large spaces. I hope to graduate to a vegetable garden by the summer but this is going to have to do for now.

The Trifecta: a run of three wins or grand events. Enough Said.

2007-12-27T22:38:00.000+02:00

Where's Jenna?

Trifecta Numero Uno, Top Dog, El Presidente, Mother Superior... ;)

More cooking Christmas morning breakfast...

Mosely Christmas 07 - Take 1

2007-12-27T05:19:00.001+02:00

Mosely Christmas 07 - Take 2

2007-12-27T05:09:00.000+02:00

Front yard

Decorating Christmas Ornaments

Derek and Regan jumped in the frigid water!

Poker NIGHTS

The sisters cooking breakfast for everyone Christmas morning

My father and his two brothers decide to celebrate Christmas together with the entire Mosely family -- first time ever -- all 17 of us on the Jersey Shore. It was cold but it was also wonderful.

Sarah is...

2007-12-18T00:16:00.001+02:00

Home for Christmas! Boston is COLD --- arg. My old number will be working by Wednesday. Snow is beautiful but I am seriously worried I am going to break something... or possibly die of starvation in Renee's apartment as there is nothing to eat and I am too frozen to keep venturing out :P

Merry Christmas!

16 Days of Activism Against Violence Against Women

2007-12-10T21:52:00.000+02:00

Below is a link to a couple of articles recently published on the mass rape of women and girls that has been going for almost the past 10 yrs in North & South Kivu. The stories are graphic but deserved to be read.

Recently I have had the priviledge of introducing everyone from CBS to BBC to the women's groups that we work with and everytime the request is the same: Please give us a voice and tell people what is happening to us here.

Glamour Magazine -- Eve Ensler

New York Times - This online article has a very good slideshow.

Human Rights Watch - The War Within the War -- the definitive report on sexual violence in the Congo.

The IRC Project with Anne Jones

For Halloween Sarah was a ...

2007-12-06T18:31:00.000+02:00

TREE! Or rather an Ent ... along with the rest of the Lord of the Rings crowd (below)

Theodicy

2007-12-02T15:22:00.000+02:00

"Whatever is has already been, and what will be has been before; and God will call the past to account"

The reality of violence is often something that leaves me confused and very angry with God. I read about it, and on harder days, meet with people who have experienced seemingly unthinkable acts of violence in their lives. The suffering and evil that people experience in their lifetimes has alternately left me scared, shocked, numb, furious and deeply grieved. Often, I catch myself wondering if God is silent, absent or worse uncaring.

I've spent many months now trying to decide which of those three I felt to be most appropriate in defining what I believed about God and his current involvement in our world. My conclusions have continuously been emotional and not rational. Anger, frustrations, rage, sadness... instead of statements of belief or unbelief.

Last week, I was in Kigali both to see a friend and for work. Oksana, and I went to the Genocide Memorial on Saturday and though brutal to walk through I found that the visit was a bit of a catalyst towards healing in my own journey of questioning.

The memorial ends with a piece on genocides around the world over the 20Th century. I believe there is an example from every continent. As I sat there staring at the faces of people who no longer exist, at the vasts amount of visual and written documentation of evil perpetrated by humanity against humanity I felt so ashamed.

Staring at all that proof of just what we as humans are capable of it hit me that it seemed a bit unfair of me to keep blaming Jesus for acts that are so obviously being committed by humans. Why drag God into the mix when it's rather obvious that we are quite effective at screwing things up ourselves?

The idea of a God that is bigger than me has been a huge source of frustration recently -- if He is bigger than me why in the world doesn't He do something? I still don't have a good answer for that one except possibly in my finiteness there is a lot I don't see and understand. In the past few days though... I've been thinking that maybe His bigness is one of the crucial elements of my belief in Him that should be a comfort not an obstacle. Because maybe, it is going to take something so much bigger than humanity to actually bring healing to all the suffering we can cause each other and call into account all that we cannot make right.

What I love about the above verse is that it comes after the beautiful passage in Ecclesiastes 3 on how in life there is a time for everything. Of the 14 different examples of 'times' my current favorite is "a time to search and a time to give up". The juxta-position of search with give-up makes me think of surrender not defeat - for searching, at least for me, is an exhausting state of mind.

I really love this idea -- of giving up this search for answers and my demand for explanations. I truly think I want to take those baby steps of faith into the realm of trust again where not all makes sense but neither does it have to. Surrendering to the cyclical nature of life with the knowledge that it will all be called into account in it's designated time.

Reunion in Kigali

2007-12-01T12:20:00.000+02:00

Hope

2007-11-09T09:07:00.000+02:00

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up
and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch
and work: you don't give up."

– Anne Lamott

ENGAGED!!!

2007-11-09T09:05:00.000+02:00

Finally... sheesh :)

Buona sera

2007-10-15T17:53:00.000+02:00

Yesterday evening was one of those perfect moments. Federica and I were stitting down by the lake drinking cocktails and watching a storm roll in from the direction of Goma. Behind us, everything was that soft light of the setting sun while before us a billowing cloud of darkness and pierced light approached slowly eating up the dusk.

The lightening was spectacular and still far away enough that we could not hear it- impressive but not yet scary. A couple of kids were fishing in the lake breaking the stillness with occasional splashing. You could see house lights slowly come on against the dark, and the faint sounds of cooking combined with the scent of firewood stoves lulled my senses into that hazy wonderful place of contentment. The cocktail might have helped.

The past three months have been intense. I moved back to Africa to give myself sometime to regroup after a pretty awful 5 months. I figured I could think about some next steps while still doing something I felt passionate about while at the same time learning. It was a good decision but the first three weeks back I was convinced I had made the wrong one. For me, there was something just amazingly scary about taking that next step alone. But I did anyway... and though there were DOZENS of anxious calls made to parents and friends I am proud of myself for doing that. It wasn't easy, but I think it was brave! ... and I REALLY want to live my life bravely.

I am the kind of person who obsesses with answers. I want the answer to why people suffer, I want the answer to why it didn't work out, I want the answer to what will make me happy, I want to know why God sometimes seem silent, absent or uncaring. In short, I hate not knowing or not understanding. And I definitely picked the wrong line of work for someone who is intent on understanding and explaining :)

Coming back to Africa was a way for me to step into the unknown... both the unknown in my personal life and unknown when it comes to understanding other peoples heartache. Everytime I come back to these places, I am struck by both the beauty and resilience of the human heart and at the same times it's capacity to commit evil. Much like Bukavu, I am always startled by how a place so beautiful can also harbor so much horror.

And I think that goes for me as well. I've found myself just completely humbled at the range of emotions and thoughts I have experienced since coming back. And maybe that is the answer right now... to just let myself experience the emotions without having the answers.

It has been an exercise in living to sit with the daylight behind me and face what seems like the darkness of some upcoming storm with some measure of peace if not delight at all the lightening.

First Field Visit - D.R. of the Congo

2007-08-14T11:59:00.000+02:00

FYI - If you click on the pictures you can see them bigger!

Me and Nahal our Communications Intern -- she took all these picture

The women's association

The older ladies and Sarah the Giant! :)

The community field where all the women take turn tending... harvest is divided amongst them for consumption and sale.

Track 2 - Tears Dry On My Own

2007-07-30T18:06:00.000+02:00

This is the view from my bedroom window and my front porch. Amazing.

Roomies!

2007-07-09T21:07:00.000+02:00

Track 1 - Rehab

2007-07-09T00:34:00.000+02:00

It hurt like hell.

Yep. There is really no other way of putting it short of using language I would rather not. I am still sore and have occasional phantom pains. I am not sure I lost a limb but I am damn sure I lost something and occasionally... usually at night, in the quiet of my bedroom, unconsciously, I will turn over and reach for what no longer is within my grasp.

For the last 3 mo I have worked with homeless women who suffer from both trauma and substance abuse issues. They all have their "substances of choice" and often when falling off the wagon they will turn to secondary substances before capitulating to their strongest addiction. For example, if one's substance of choice is heroine it is not uncommon for an addict to begin abusing alchohol before giving into the stronger stuff.

I am still unclear of what the 'stronger stuff' was in our case. If it was the mutual dreams, spoken (and later broken) promises or shared experiences? Whatever it was it was addicting and I desperately didn't want to let it go. Were there secondary substances? Gentler, more subtle enticements ... sure. The laugh, the serious overly contemplative brooding, ridiculous reggae, a penchant for dancing on rooftops, and that fabulous Gaelic nose.

But the highs were always followed by lows. And the lows left me winded, often confused and increasingly insecure.

So after one incredible low it ended. Abruptly.

And withdrawal set in. I was a wreck. I physically ached for what was no longer available. I was not very coherent. The shakes took over and after I was all cried out I grew cold my temperature dropping. Finally, the cold gave way to numbness and I could sleep.

I slept for a long time. Six or eight weeks really. Nothing much registered.

Occasionally, I would relapse. A phone call, e-mail or chat... something would do me in and start that process all over again. But each time withdrawal was a bit easier - I was getting the drill down.

So I am checking myself into rehab. This next year is my rehab.

The boy and the relationship were by no means toxic... in fact there was much magic and many things I am grateful for having experienced with him.

But I need to get cleaned up.

I need to face those fears, leave behind the denial and see myself for who I truly am and get on with it already!

La Voix

2007-07-09T00:32:00.001+02:00

Jeff wrote me a couple weeks back commenting on how I have jumped around a lot on my blog -- there seems to have been a lack of coherency. All I can say is my blog's lack of 'coherency' has been quite acutely reflected in my personal life as well. Tis not been the year for coherency.

For awhile now I have written loads. Words upon words have piled about in my brain. Some have made it onto paper while a large percentage of them have rambled forth in intense conversations I have had with my wall... but very few of them have made it onto the blogsphere.

Towards the end of the relationship I was most recently in I began to censor myself -- not consciously. More a learned reflex. An ineffective means of avoiding, at least temporarily, conflict. Which for me was rather odd seeing as I am usually quite confrontational. After it was over, in an attempt to fill that "inevitable withdrawal" (thank you Amy Winehouse) I began reading all things Anne Lamott.

In Bird by Bird, a book Lamott wrote on writing she talks about finding your voice as a writer. A common mistake among writers is to adopt the voice or style of other authors. I've been looking for my voice because for awhile there I couldn't quite hear myself among the different sounds of regret, rejection and self-doubt. It took me months before I could look in the mirror and see someone I liked as opposed to someone who someone else didn't like enough.

So in my attempt to find my voice again I have been silent. I don't know if that was wise but for weeks there all I had to say felt too raw or too personal for public venting. Who knows? Maybe it could have been my best stuff! :) Most likely it would have just given the gossip mills much better fodder. Yet there is more to me, more to who I am than this past year and I hadn't felt like writing publicly until I myself knew that was true. Until my voice finally sounded like my own again.

There are still moments when my voice sounds wounded or tired... fleeting moments of self-pity inflections.

One of the things that I found extremely helpful has been music. Best post-breakup soundtrack ever has been a decadent cocktail of all things The Killers spiked with some amazingly wicked Amy Winehouse - hell, yes. Very mainstream at the moment I know... but damn did they hit the spot.

So as a tribute to the music that has gradually helped me bee bop my way back into some semblance of coherency these next entries will be take their inspiration from Amy Winehouse's album Back to Black.

Beginning above...

forethought of grief

2007-06-12T02:57:00.001+02:00

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

Memorial Day - Vermont

2007-05-29T15:51:00.000+02:00

They were cold... I was not :)

I went kayaking down at the reservoir... beautiful.

That girl

2007-05-25T15:15:00.000+02:00

Sometimes I feel a tad possessed.

No seriously. I have these moments of pure impulsiveness that generally do not fall into the greater framework of my day with any logical progression. They just are, they just happen. Sometimes they make me look a tad unstable or possibly deranged but I am beginning to suspect that I harbor a secret love affair with the idea of off-kilter. Or, possibly I just do not differentiate well between mysterious and down right wacky.

So yesterday, I was waiting in line to purchase party food at Trader Joe's for my last watercolor class, and a German couple ahead of me, clearly in their 30's, had their romantic vacation picnic idea rudely interrupted by the US of A.

"I am sorry sir, but it's the law ...I need to see either passport or a state issued driver's license". They looked so confused, and tried politely to explain that their E.U. driver's licence were actually 'state' issued --- just a different kind of state.

Damn hippie stuck to his guns. They were so visibly crushed -- but amazingly polite about the ridiculousness of demanding ID from a couple who were clearly old enough.

I was watching the interaction. Amused then annoyed. Seriously. Whats the point of dressing like a hippie if you won't bend the rules a little. It's false advertising. Ugh.

So they left and I had a plan. A daring plan! I confess I resorted to very base and time tested powers of persuasion. But it worked, and a smile and giggle later I had the bottle, was running down the street and a had accosted the by now seriously confused Germans.

" I thought" breath "you" breath "might want" breath "your wine" pant pant pant... (side note -- I am SERIOUSLY out of shape).

It was fun. They were shocked. I apologized on behalf of the country whose passport I hold ... explained that it could be a tad difficult at times to get people to understand that other countries do indeed issue valid non-terrorist related documents. We laughed. It made my day... and the best part about it is that no matter what they tell their friends about their vacation they will always have this one random memory of some American girl who ran a block down the street to hand them a crap bottle of $4 Riesling.

I like being that girl.

My fave "where the hell are you e-mail?" EVER!

2007-05-08T21:40:00.000+02:00

Has anyone seen from Sarah? Was she kidnapped by aliens? Did the homeless hags of Boston took her underground to live in a more simple life in the subway system? Have JJ's crossed oceans to claim school feeding proceeds she wouldn't distribute to them?

From the brilliant Phuong...

Update

2007-05-08T17:10:00.000+02:00

Just an FYI -- this blogger is taking a hiatus from the blog for 1 or 2 months.

Thanks !
Sarah

Let rip, and dance where you can

2007-04-29T19:28:00.000+02:00

Currently meditating on...

"King David leaped and danced naked before the ark of the Lord in a barren desert. Here the very looped soil is an intricate throng of praises. Make connections; let rip; and dance where you can."--annie dillard

"He brought me down to the beach, spread his arms seaward and said, "this is my gift to you.'"--Life of Pi

"Look, Daniel. Destiny is usually just around the corner, Like a thief, a hooker, or a lottery vendor: its three most common personifications. But what destiny does not do is home visits. You have to go for it." --Carlos Ruis Zafon

"tanta injusticia, no?"-- Che, The Motorcycle Diaries

(stolen from my sister's favorite quotes)

27 Years!

2007-04-18T19:52:00.000+02:00

Hmm... Pics or rather small - Sorry!

Crazyness

2007-03-26T21:37:00.000+02:00

So ... I have a new job at the moment. Tis a new gig for me. Most days I can truly see the beauty of the whole ridiculous mess -- and then there are those moments when its just one huge chaotic bundle of human need and the whole thing just flat out pisses me off.

Most of the women I work with are certifiably mental -- functioning, living on their own - in shelters or on the street yet the majority of them have some kind of mental something. Borderline personality disorders, trauma histories, bi-polar, anxiety issues or just flat out bad attitudes. So some moments, I sincerely and with deep affection think of them as "aww... my crazies!" and then other days I grit my teeth and hear my own inner bad attitude voice exclaim in exasperation 'effing crazies!".

The bad attitude ones are my favorite b/c they are inadvertently extremely funny.

For example Dee. I had been warned of Dee but had not yet had the pleasure of making her acquaintance until last Wednesday. A large lady with very powerful vocal chords I figured out who she was when she stormed into my office demanding socks.

I got up to head over to the clothing closet and the demand for socks turned into "and I want a T-shirt... AND pants -- I need pants!". OK... Actually not O.K. as pants are for emergencies only and not liking the color of your jeans does not constitute an emergency. Having the crap beaten out of you the evening before on the streets and your clothes stolen does. Dee didn't like the color of her jeans.

When I refused to supply her with pants she then decided to let the entire floor know that I was a "f-ing b-tch and had no right to refuse her pants!" by standing in the stairwell and broadcasting this with again, her very powerful vocal cords. This would qualify as an "effin crazy" moment.

For some weird twisted reason... I found the whole thing vaguely comical in a dark British humor kind of way. Frankly, I was just relieved she hadn't walloped me then and there.

So the next day when Dee strolled into the center I sighed internally and mumbled a prayer-ish "please don't let her hit me Lord" and then turned to face the music.

"Hey YOU! You know - I am really sorry..." she began, which caused me to freeze in pure confusion. This was the LAST thing I expected to hear come out of her mouth.

She continued.

"Yeah... I am really sorry that you yelled at me yesterday. That just wasn't necessary"

No joke.

My elation quickly spun itself into incredulity which then fishtailed with my sick sense of humor. So I sighed to stifle the giggles and breathed in yoga mantra -like an "aww my crazy..." which I then exhaled forcing myself to nod " Yeah... Dee. Me too. Me too."

Isaac Quotables

2007-03-20T22:23:00.000+02:00

"I am a skank... with morals" C. Isaacs

"If your not doing it for Jesus, all you've got is a shit job in the desert" K. Isaacs

The Confused Road

2007-03-20T21:17:00.000+02:00

Yesterday in the center one of my ladies, a rather large wonderfully child-like woman named Lily* painted a picture using watercolors that she titled "The Confused Road". A swirly field of interconnecting color paths she explained how often life gets all "mixed-up like" and you confuse your roads.

You think your heading one way and then all of a sudden either the road changes on you or you lose track of the path you were on. Working with these ladies I've noticed how often it isn't even that they mix up their road as much as life places incredible barriers and obstacles along their way.

Taking this job and "getting back to basics" so to speak has been an incredibly tender experience of again learning to give back dignity to people from whom life has already stolen so much.

I do miss the "excitement" and big picture planning of my old work -- and truthfully I am very confident that I will go back to it sooner than I think. But being in a position where you can't reduce people to beneficiary numbers, or quantify their lives in indicators and outputs has been good for my heart.

My job at the moment is to listen to these women's stories, be kind to them, rebuild their confidence by providing them with activities that remind them that they are gifted and special, and treat them with dignity by validating their needs. Most days I feel like a fumbling first time mom or rather lame babysitter.

I get frustrated. Yet there are these wonderfully random moments where I just feel my spirit sigh and say "its worth it". Like last Friday, when I had a center full of ladies with mud masks on their face. After vigorously scrubbing it off, Lily chortled and peered into the mirror. She smiled, sighed and then patted her face assertively and proclaimed: "I feel pretty... and I am happy!".

Its amazing what a little mud will do.

* Names have been changed

Fave Place to Eat

2007-03-15T20:36:00.000+02:00

Right now my favorite place to escape for a mid day lunch break is this little eatery called Rachel's Kitchen. I don't even think I've eaten in a place this small in Europe. A small store front converted into this couple's kitchen - it is wonderful and I love what they stand for.

Check it out :) Rachel's Kitchen.

Crazy, concrete filled shuffle.

2007-03-09T18:00:00.000+02:00

These last few weeks have been a bit of everything. Letting go, sitting still, re-dreaming, grieving, new insights, a few adventures and some self-exploration. I feel exhausted and ready for the weekend.

I think I finally pinpointed what truly bothers me about cities -- the anonymity that is often so dehumanizing. Lately, I've been struck by how often you can walk past someone who is hurting and just keep going b/c that is what you do in a metropolis. You keep going, you've got a place to be, a schedule, an appointment to keep and another person's pain is not apart of the daily agenda.

So many hearts get lost in the crazy, concrete filled shuffle.

So my goal... has been to smile. Smile, smile, smile at everyone or anybody I have to interact with -- people must think I am on Prozac or Zoloft -- or something! But is has been fun to watch the different reactions that I get. Mostly good ones, some a little taken back or just surprised. Once in awhile resentful responses or just annoyed -- maybe I need to whiten my teeth.

I have missed Africa a lot lately. As Rachel Jones so wonderfully described it: "today i got a huge wave of i wish i was in Africa living that life...and i was overtaken by nostalgia of that adventure and the life which is so far away, and the struggles which dictate the outcomes of so many peoples lives...i suppose i craved the sunsets, and sounds, and love that comes from those who have nothing..."

I too miss that life which is so far away. Yet, I've also had a growing awareness of how I've sometimes used that far away life as a safe cocoon of avoidance in dealing with some of my own issues. Helping others does not necessarily mean your helping yourself. Coming out of this cocoon takes time, is labor intensive and as been somewhat awkward... but as cheesy as it sounds I kind of hope I get to be that turquoise butterfly on the other end. I read somewhere that butterflies have a ridiculously short lifespan after emerging from their cocoon but I am kind of hoping God will make an exception in my case. I would like to flit around for a bit and just show off.

But the beauty of God's world to me is that you can find that same magic, the same sense of purpose and love even in the concrete shuffle. It just looks different and you need to train your eyes and heart to re-see. The butterfly might look like a moth but it still has gossamer wings.

Snow!!

2007-02-14T21:38:00.000+02:00

Much to Jenna and Renee's mutual delight this morning and much to mine and Megan's dismay we awoke to a snow covered street with more pouring down. "This is why I can't live in New England" Megan muttered as she found out that her flight to DC had been cancelled the 2nd day running.

I crawled out of bed to find Renee and Jenna beaming as they got ready for work/school. Don't get me wrong - I love the snow... I just hate what comes afterwards - slush.

Megan and I ventured outside around 1 pm to hit Martins - the local teeny weeny dinner down the street that has b/c my post-break up consolation joint. There is nothing better than bacon in eggs to fill (at least temporarily) the hole left by the absence of someone you love. I am a very Southern girl at heart. :)

We scrambled up the hill, and out of breath trudged through the door. I confess I was enjoying myself and the madness created by the snowy morning. One thing I love about snow is that it creates chaos but it is a slow motion chaos b/c nothing can be attempted at high speeds. I couldn't stop smiling.

So after much eating, coffee drinking and talking we had to leave. By now, it was not only snowing it was raining! And let me tell ya, rain does funky things to snow... namely creating frozen slush like rivers for which there is no alternative but to plow through and pray your shoes are waterproof.

Mine, turns out - were not.

In between shrieks of "this is insane!!" and "I can't feel my toes!" -- I was overcome by laughter. Hard hard laughter that just seemed to well up out of nowhere in burst of joy. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time and it felt wonderful.

I am starting to feel my toes again.

Morning sun

2007-02-13T21:54:00.000+02:00

We were driving past on your way to church and she caught my eye. Leaning against the railing, head tipped up and back, the woman was standing outside in the morning chill a cup of coffee in one hand, the other gently resting on the bar to behind her back.

Frozen in rest, she stood in the glare of the morning soaking it in, letting her face absorb the warmth of the sun's rays. Beside her propped against the railling was a white cane. The beauty of the gesture made my heart lurch. This position of receiving, of just being while unable to see left me overwhelmed with gratefulness & curiousity.

To take in the sun without seeing it, to walk without knowing where your going, to trust that the path is there even when you do not understand the ruts, twists and turns... I hope to be this brave.

The Benefits of Being Home

2006-10-30T21:47:00.000+02:00

Jenna and Me at Crane's Beach

Renee, Me and sleeping bag at Crane's Beach

Greater Context

2006-10-24T17:28:00.000+02:00

Throughout this reentry process I've received alot of questions about Sudan and Darfur in particular. Why? Is a popular one. What was it like? Is the second most frequent one. In re-reading through this blog I've realized I didn't write much about Darfur - frankly, I still don't feel like I have a good restrospective or synopsis of my time there. There were things I loved and others I hated.

It was as bad as it sounds and not nearly as "unimaginable" as most people imagine it to be. I loved my job. I hated the government. I miss the people. I couldn't wait to leave. I had a blast with my team and made amazing friends. I felt like a flake for being away from my family.

There are alot of reasons for why Darfur has happened. None of them are excusable yet alot of them make sense in the greater context of Sudan's history and current world politics/economy.

Today the NY Times ran an article which you can view here which continues to put into context the ongoing conflict of that region. I am a fan of this article for many reason but overall b/c it captures what I believe to be the primary reason behind most of what is happening: greed.

I just wasted

2006-10-19T22:21:00.000+02:00

a solid two hours surfing myspace... I KNOW! What is happening to me!? Immersed already? Hmm... Maybe its the fact that I am temping right now as a receptionist for an MIT lab. The lab is scheduled for closure and there is almost no one here - literally I've been here all day and the only thing I've had to do was answer the phone once.

And ironically enough it was for me. BUT!!
I have internet access - this is MIT after all.

Frankly, I find the whole myspace phenomenon weird. My favorite part is where they actually list your friends. Dana has 5 friends ie. LOSER. Or Stephanie has 115 friends i.e IT GIRL (aka Girl with really trashy picture)

I am sure this isn't the point. But it is kind of like reading through virtual billboards designed to capture peoples "individuality". Which quite frankly just end up reducing everybody to homogeneous captions of likes and dislikes. Bizarre. The whole thing is just bizarre.

Yet two hours for pete's sake!!! This demands more thought. I will be back.

Remembering words

2006-10-12T19:57:00.000+02:00

"I can read when my brain remembers the words" Shay explained to me earnestly after I had asked the 4 yr old if he could read.

Supressing a smile I have to say that this wording captures with utmost accuracy how I've felt about my re-entry. I can do everything I used to do... when my brain remembers how to do previously second nature actions. Which isn't always.

I've blanked in front of the cashier's when trying to use my ATM card, had to throw away a number of checks that I filled out improperly and have been utterly terrified of subway systems and drive thrus.

Yesterday filling out an application at a temp agency I think I took longer then average -- remembering social security numbers and new addresses just about wiped me out.

Everyday actions that before I didn't think twice about now seem utterly foreign and often leave me exhausted. Most days this inspires good natured self mockery but every now and then I've an off day where I get utterly frustrated and exasperated with my incompetence.

The flip side to this is small accomplishments feel like huge victories. Sucessfully navigating the metro lines, finding the mattress store across town using mapquest, or ordering the correct tall almond skim milk steamer leave me positively beaming.

I feel four again and can complete related to the frustrations of little people like Shay who don't always understand grown up rules or why one's brain just has trouble remembering what everyone else seemingly already knows.

But being four isn't altogether a bad thing... we love super heroes and we can make up words or subscribe completely new meanings to old ones. We don't necessarily understand the rules of the game but we always "win" because we redefine success as we go, and when no on is watching we get to run around naked until mom tells us to put our pants back on.

I think I like being four (minus the naked thing).

Overheard

2006-10-05T23:43:00.000+02:00

At a undisclosed Starbucks...

Flustered lady, who busted through the front doors, day back on her back, walking shoes on and crazy everywhere hair...

"OH. MY. G-D! Your OUT of bottled WATER!! What am I. GOING. TO. DO.?"

Barista "Yes, but our water is trippled filtered and I can get you a cup of that?"

"Oh no! I watch Oprah and I am NEVER EVER drinking unbottled water again!!"

...

Thanks Oprah...

A whole different kind of crazy

2006-10-02T03:23:00.000+02:00

In Boston. First impression - going to love it. My sis and Renie found us an apartment in Brookline just next to St. Mary's church. It is wonderful, small yet full of hardwood floors and sunlight - on the third story of an old townhouse turned into apartments. Brookline village has a funky family feel to and I am going to explore tomorrow... there is a yoga studio that I am particularly interested in.

No longer in the South thats for sure. In an attempt to illustrate the cultural differences my sister Kristin gave me a brief rundown on Brandeis University's upcoming play "The Goat" - theme (as explained to her)- bestiality, pedophilia and references to incest... opening scheduled for? Family Week. Coincidence? No.

"It's just a whole different kind of crazy up here", Kristin laughingly summed up.

On the move to

2006-09-30T01:19:00.000+02:00

Boston. It is official - flying out tomorrow afternoon, with two bags of belongings to settle down for a bit with Renee, Jenna and Kristin in Boston. Counting down the days till November :)

Coy - 15 days to GO!!!

Kwok - Update PLEASE & I want the pics...

Scott - Same as Kwok :)

Chris - thanks for the call.

B. - Just how long is October?

Random bits of information

2006-09-26T02:47:00.000+02:00

Hmm... So I've been back in the U.S. of A for a total of two weeks now and am feeling more adjusted than before though still not entirely myself. I find myself still straddling the here and there fence.

I do confess that with most of you I've been practicing the art of avoidance not out of any particular desire to not speak, but I just don't have alot to say at this point. Being back has been a little harder than anticipated (thanks alot Christopher Rae!!!)

I've been resting the days away walking along the banks of the Congaree river, watching Goth kids at coffee shops and trying to absorb both the new world around me while processing the reality of the one I just came from.

Currently the Ipod Playlist: Seu Jorge, Sufjan Stevens, John Coltrane & Alicia Keys (weird I know!)

Currently Reading: Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon(wonderful!), Confieso que he vivido by Pablo Neruda (amazing!) and A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis (always good).

Just saw for first time and loved: Grey's Anatomy and Little Miss Sunshine

i thank you God for this most amazing

2006-09-24T05:05:00.000+02:00

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

ee cummings

---- We're getting there. SM

Current Location

2006-09-17T01:05:00.000+02:00

Columbia, SC - where I am resting, recovering and just all around trying to get a grip on this re-entry proccess. More to come when I find my voice amongts all the ever changing emotions.

In limbo

2006-09-08T18:01:00.000+02:00

Current Location: Over the Atlantic

I apologize for the lack of info lately on the blog. On September 2nd I left Darfur and after having spent a week in Portugal and currently sitting pretty peachy on Lufthansa flight 444 to Atlanta. Arrival time: In 2hrs at 14;40.

First Stop: Fairhope, Alabama

More later!

New pics!

2006-08-24T14:25:00.000+02:00

Check out the new flicker badge pictures of my last and most recent trip to the field. Scroll down and look to the right :)

Wade through the water...

2006-08-22T12:53:00.000+02:00

... children, wade through the water. The song kept running through my mind as we slogged our way through the seemingly unending south Darfur desert currently moonlighting as swamp. I could only recognize half of our locations b/c of the abundance of green and foliage that has just overwhelmed the landscape due to the rains. When you crest the hills you get a eye full of gently rolling fresh growth that has cloaked the once yellow orange sand in a very misleading dark green. The baobabs are full of leaves and there has been an influx of previously unseen colorful birds. Red, yellow, turquoise bursts of flight and fury come careening out of the chest high millet as the landcruisers rumble through.

It was beautiful. My last trip to the field. I always remember what it is that I love in this place when we get to our overnight compound and amongts the greetings of strangers begin to cross the "bridge" to the place where we will sleep. The village at dusk is arguable one of the most peaceful experiences of my times in Darfur. The "salaam alekums" being thrown to the wind, a call to prayer in the background, the sqeeky see-saw of the water pump, ever present braying of those unearthly loud donkeys, and endless giggling children.

Arriving in SF we were informed half in jest when using the local tree bridge that we needed to provide the community with a real one. The wadi was full and the rushing sound of the water further reinforced the sense of tranquility of the evening. This was broken only once later on that night when someone decide to fire a gunshot into the air for reasons unknown. When asked by a fellow aid worker from a different NGO what our compound protocol was (i.e. did we turn off lights? call it in to our base?) - It took an amazing amount of effort not to laugh or say something really cheeky like "Define compound and protocol?". Seeing as he is new I realized this would be lost on him and figure my amused grin will self-explain with time.

Tears

2006-08-14T08:20:00.000+02:00

I never really know what will hit me or when things will move me from detached observer to overwhelmed participant in the harship that is all around me here.

For the most part, detached would describe the majority of my interactions with street kids and beggars in Nyala - there are so many of them and I can't financially, timewise or even emotionally be "present" in all my encounters with people on the street. I would never get anything done. One my greatest frustrations in emergency relief is the irony that you spend hours working trying to keep people alive and yet it is arguably the context in an international setting that most sets you apart from those you are working for.

Yet, there are those moments when the humanity that is the little ratty pesky "give me money" kid breaks through and reduces me to tears.

Walking out of mass last night we came across one the street kids who I had seen often but who had disappeared over the last few weeks. He looked terrible. Clothes more worn, a little taller but just as skinny. He was standing by my car touching the panneling. First he asked for money then for bread. B. talked to him for a bit before we headed over to a stand to find him some food.

I am always amazed at how cruelly people can treat their discarded members. We do it everywhere. Some cultures are just more subtle than others. The affect is the same. The kid was walking with us to the food stand and we were approached by two Sudanese who in an effort to "help" the dumb white people told us to leave the kid alone b/c he was "dirty" and then said something in Arabic that reduced the child to tears. B. stepped in and told them to stop, that we were O.K. and they left shaking their heads in laughter at the naive kwajas.

Looking down I saw the tears streaming down his face. Up until that point, I think I had still been detatched - glad we were doing what we were even if pathetically little, but still not fully taking in the reality of this child's life. Tears slipping down he kept walking looking straight ahead. I for the life of me couldn't imagine what those two men had said that would reduce this hardass little boy to tears in 5 secs.

The tears reminded me that he was just a child, that he like any other kid wounds easily and that words hurt. In that interaction he was reminded again that he is nothing, dirty, unfit, a pest ... and again my heart broke. The obscenity that is this world seemed to hug me from the dark weight of the night and as he wandered off with his food I felt empty.

People always try and end these kind of entries with some neat little wrap up or meaningful insight. Screw that.

I've got nothing meaningful or conscise to say about this child's reality. It is obscene, unfair, unjust and it will most like not get better. Sometimes the only real thing you can do is cry.

Wisdom for the Ages

2006-08-10T09:35:00.000+02:00

Hardly. I saw this title splashed across a book this morning and I couldn't help but think of how wonderful that would be if it were truly true of my life right now. Full of wisdom for THE AGES (last part meant to be read in deep commanding Gandalf like voice).

My life is more full of sleep deprivation at the moment than anything else. Sleep deprivation and random moments of pure chaos. The past few days have been spent staying up late working on the Issues letter (see below) - and it shows. My lids feel constantly heavy, my skin isn't looking all that great, and even the wonderful Java House coffee is not doing the trick this morning. Seeing as my boss is gone I am considering just giving myself the day off... ah the perks of filing in for the head honcho. Need a personal day? No problem, let me just check with... oh wait, me! Cheeky.

So this last week and half included getting stopped at gunpoint late at night at the checkpoint - given it was our fault - night time and no one is supposed to be out but our teams had gotten stuck (more like drowned) in a wadi and were late coming in, getting lost on way to said checkpoint, cleaning up a couple of "misunderstandings" that occured at the airport with our staff, writing Issues letters, trying to send Issues letters in time to make deadline with a Bgan that refused to work, DSL internet down, a dial-up connection that kept cutting out every 2 minutes and cell phone coverage that didn't offer any coverage at all.

On the bright side my amazing sis Kris and roomate extraordinaire Renee found us an apartment in Boston. And Kris says I will love it.. wow. 20 more days. Alot of mixed feelings. But right now the overwhelming emotion is a deep seated desire to go crawl back into bed. On ... my .... way... now...

Issues

2006-08-10T09:03:00.000+02:00

So last night I had to finish our issues letter which due to the infamous run in with National Security on Sunday I was terribly
behind on. One of our expats had a run in with national security on his way out of the Nyala and then this was announced
bright and early to everyone at the Gov/NGO meeting at 9 on Monday. Name of org, name of employee, alledged offense... everything. Super.

Three cheers for us!!!

Anyways, Sunday was a long long day and I touched the OFDA Issues letter some but not as much as I should have.

So last night after doing damage control over the national security incident, I am sitting in the office starving and hacking away at these crazy questions. Highlite of the day was mid afternoon pep talk with Sao and Ocksana but that only got me so far. (thanks girls!)

8 pm rolls around and it starts POURING and we lose electricity. Internet is down for over 24 hrs now and Mobitel is terrible AND now it is dark. So I run back to the house in the pouring rain around 9 to get the keys for the office with the RBgans in them. 9:30 still pouring. !!! Plastic bag over my head and over the computer I am scrambling in the rain trying to get the Bgan set up... alternating between slipping and dropping my flashlight.

It start raining harder. By this time I am just giggling cause I realize that I am in the middle of a downpour covered in plastic
bags with a lamp attatched to head that keeps slipping off --- in Darfur. I keep getting images of Angelina Jolie's pristine white clothes in Beyond Border and the laugther just keeps getting harder.

FINALLY!!! All the little lights blink green and the cords reach far enough and... Oh crap! Slip, crash, hit the ground, huge
splash... and I've just tripped backwards into a puddle that literally soaked me from waist to foot and sent a couple of benches flying it what made for a huge crash. I can't breathe I am laughing so hard.

Damn. Trudge back into office soaked only to have to hack away at the Issues letter till an odious time of 2 am.

This morning get a call from HQ... they never received my email - could I please resend?

Unbelievable.

:) :) :)

Jeff and Jono see what your missing?

A tribute to Jonathan

2006-07-27T09:00:00.000+02:00

Yes it is!!! I told you I would do this...

The exodus as truly begun and my support system - also known as "the clique" - has begun to dwindle. What began as a joke with B. leaving for R&R in May has become tradition - an adaptation of the "birthday blessing", it amounts to taking turns sharing tongue in cheek what one appreciates about the person leaving.

So Jono - I trust you are reading this with a chilled glass of something alchoholic in your hand as your mind tries to block out these last few months :) We miss you, and here is why:

K - I appreciate Jonathan's stoic metabolism that withstood ad-hoc requests such
as 'Want anything from Shiraz?' within a five minute lead time, and still
didn't put on any weight. Much to both our dismays. Maybe we should've just
surprised it with a bar of Snickers and Daima chocolate milk. That would've
fattened him up...

Jeff - What I like about Jonathon -- among the many things I really liked and appreciated about him -- was the way I could shock and embarrass him with my many time off-color comments. I loved seeing the shocked smile of disbelief and horror that I'd sometimes said the unspeakable. But I also liked that he was always there for a good long chat, was always ready with good comments and opinions, and I loved the rooftop sessions in which he participated, even if it was only him dropping by to escape the the tyranny of "F-y".

V - What I like about Jonno is his ability to give us a great story from the field to start us off giggling madly in the midst of a tough day!

Sarah - What I like about Jono - the facial expressions - my favorite one being the look of overiding concern for one's mental sanity when asking the question in utter seriousness "are you O.K.?" - A combination of - I really care, I can relate and please don't lose it right now with me! That and the screaming monkey, mutual love for Damien Rice, Gereida stories and England/Portugal games... yeah. Definitely.

Will update later with B and O's comments - but out of time at the moment. Check back. And a long exasperated inshallah to seeing you in London!

Edges of things

2006-07-23T15:00:00.001+02:00

There is this line in a song that I've left on repeat for much of today

"Walk with me quiet, walk with me slow, walk with me empty, walk with me strong...
Watered down coffee, words of gold
Cause I can feel the edges of these things when I hear You speak to me
So walk with me..."

Feeling the edges of things... I cannot tell you how often those edges grow blurry in my life. One moment everything can seem so clear and delineated while the next that "wrecking ball swings and tears..." and the coffee is spilt, all that is shines is no longer gold and for the life of me I cannot hear His voice.

Learning to walk... again. Seems to be the theme of late and what I am truly, soul hungry for- what is truly missing. Yet, not a hurtful or shame-filled re-learning. Rather a glorious freedom at getting to keep going on a journey that is indeed blessed, heartfelt and full of mystery.

Rediscovering the edges... what they feel like, how they taste and where they might lead.

My walk with God has often been stilted, halting and more often than not selfish... yet it has never ceased to be personal. Personally, I don't know what I want lately, I don't know where it is I am heading, and I truly do not have any idea on how to do this well --- but I am reminded daily here that is not so much how "well" one does something but that they do it honestly.

To me that is the beauty of Grace - that we are invited to walk honestly before a God that has chosen to love us instead of letting us go. Honestly in our enthusiasm, with our doubts, full of weakness, racked with anger or overwhelmed with strength... learning to hear Him as he reveal life's edges instead of lettting us wander through a seemingly undefined experience of life.

My edges still seem vague - this is the truth. But today, for a change I think I am finally listening.

Angelina Jolie I am NOT

2006-07-19T09:16:00.000+02:00

And for that matter who is? A couple of months ago - also known as "The time before Jeff left" - a group of us got together to watch the absolutely horrendous, albeit in this context phenomenally humorous movie Beyond Borders. If you were smart enough to pass on this movie staring Angelina Jolie and Clive Owen let me give you the general run down on utterly non-realistic plot.

Clive Owen, hardened, committed relief worker with rugged good looks rarely found in the field, changes Angelina Jolie's naive, sheltered, yet still physically gorgeous in a manner NEVER found in the field, existence as he helps her understand the plight of the refugee. She then begins working with UNHCR and together, with her numerous connections and licentious use of the UN seal, they are able to help the forgotten around the world. (You know your an aid worker if you were giggling by the time you read "rugged good looks" and doubling over in pain as your eyes skimmed "working with UNHCR").

Ignoring the fact that it would be logistically impossible to run humanitarian aid in such a manner, that UNHCR never goes out on a limb and that the UN seal is basically a pretty piece of paper that has no authority whatsover once it has left the confines of the UN (Iran anyone?) --- the woman doesn't even get dirty while wearing white in a refugee camp for a week - yes WHITE! FOR A WEEK!!!! They lost me right there. Yes, she looked amazing - but who can even wear white under normal conditions for a solid week and NOT get dirty.

Then Clive Owen's character gets all high and mighty b/c she is wearing perfume. Whatever. Call me shallow, but I've worked in Darfur for almost a year now and horror of horrors - on an office day I wear perfume, it is one of the few nice things I get to smell all day. Hardcore is massively overated and more often than not amazingly pretentious. Stinky and effective are not necessarily the same thing.

The point to this rant is that my life contrary to Hollywood belief is not glamorous - perfume and all. I've been confined to office/house work for the past 48 hours b/c there is something in my stomach that has taken a distinct dislike to all things I consume. It is rather humbling this running back and forth to the porcelain throne.

An average day includes spending 70% of my time damp due to perspiration, fighting feeling like a bag of potatoes in my culturally appropriate non-gender identifying clothes, and at the moment trying to guess what won't throw my abdomen into spams.

Jonathan wrote me recently, yesterday as a matter of fact, and said I sounded jaded. I had to take a pause and think about that one for a moment. I would hesitate to embrace the term jaded at the moment but tired would be a very good qualifier. I am tired.

Darfur is worth getting tired over - don't get me wrong. But at the moment I think I am reaching a stage of tired that not even Channel's Allure can get me through. As scary as the departure date seems to me it is also quickly becoming the light at the end of this growing tunnel.

A.M. Thoughts

2006-07-18T08:28:00.000+02:00

Not that they're particularly insightful or even concrete before 10 am and two mugs of coffee but I will try. "Man, it is going to be hot today", is currently my most frequent thought. I feel dreamy in that hazy "deep contented sight" kind of way. After a wonderful night watching stars and eating just a little cheese (hee hee hee.. thanks Kwok) I feel a little spacy, yet all around happy and oddly taken care of. Wonderful.

I've been boycoting televised news lately b/c it is just all to overwhelming and depressing what is happening at the moment. Earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanos, psycho LRA talks, overeager Israelis, petulant guerrillas, cussing presidents with minimalistic and misguided foreign policies, train bombings, Baghdad (still) burning... it's enough to make one quit.

B. asked me last night, half in jest, if I thought the end of the world was near - my knee jerk reaction a firm no. And I still stand by this answer as I am not one to indulge in "Left Behind" bullshit -- I agree with Ann Lammott (Traveling Mercies) that I think people made a fortune feeding off theirs and others hysteria with some seriously questionable interpretation of the holy text.

So no, I don't believe the end is near and if I am wrong - great, bring it - but until clouds part and the heavenly shit hits the fan I will remain firmly grounded in the all too material and temporal sphere. One revolution at a time people!

So this morning, I will read through Robert Service's "The Call of the Wild", drink my coffee, remember last night's stars, an accented voice singing Nat King Cole's Unforgettable, and lay all these thoughts to rest. My revolution today will be to sucessfully figure out my beneficiary numbers per livelihood activity, track down C at WFP, pic up Coy from the airport, pray for the man we saw in a street accident this morning, and keep looking for all those small things that remind one not to quit.

And for that I am going to need more coffee.

Shades of Grey

2006-07-13T08:26:00.000+02:00

It's a go. We can move again. El Presidente left after his mad dash visit to Nyala yesterday. Gunships circling the town, buzzing buildings, hundreds of men on horseback and camels running around town waving flags, blue and green camouflage everywhere - it was something else.

I drove around town once to get a feel for the activity and the sensation of both excitement and apprehension crossed my mind. Strange - just so strange and in a manner also tragic. The trip was to promote the peace treaty- obviously! Yet, if any of you follow the news on Darfur you would know (and if you don't I am about to tell you), that there has been significant fighing in North Darfur perpetrated by the SLA Minawi faction - the one that actually signed the peace treaty. The atrocities being committed during this fresh wave of violence rival those usually associated with CENSORED (take a guess).

Again... apprehension and that vague sorrow you get when your observing the tragic that unfortunately has become all to common in day-to-day existence here. Not numbness, just that sad acceptance that creeps in when you realize your are one of many who will pass through this place.

I don't blog often on Darfur - not b/c I don't have things to say or thoughts on what I am doing and seeing --- but it is truly hard to write about that which is often beyond my ability to simplify. People want the summation, they want a good and a bad guy, they want someone to cheer for. Yet, the longer you are here the more you realize that shades of grey could very well be the new national motto.

PS. For a good overview on two of the more recent developments that are affecting the DPA log onto www.whatsadarfur.blogspot.com and scroll down three posts - the BBC link and "Meanwhile, back at the ranch", both good insight. Great pics too!

Expected Outcomes

2006-07-08T14:56:00.000+02:00

After 3 days of mourning I do feel able to speak again even if I am fighting a headache at the moment. So we lost. I know. Lets not rehash. It hurts too much.

Deep breath. Sigh.

Today is technically a day off - but I've been working. This little thing called OFDA supplement. i.e. US gov. funded money up for grabs mid-year. It had better be worth it cause I am sick of proposal, budgets, re-writes and all the inter-agency blah blah blah that comes with people disagreeing with things like priorities, wording and objectives.

Ugh. Just give us the damn money. We do good work. I promise.

If only that were enough... And for obvious reasons it isn't - which is probably a good thing... The whole justification, background, accountability, planning. I realize this - I am not a moron. But what I know I should say versus what I want to say are often two very different things.

Like for example, under problem justification/situation analysis I am often just tormented lately with the temptation to write: "Haven't you HEARD?!" or on cynical days: "Hmm... Lets see. 2004 - bad, 2005 - bad, and 2006 - gee, still bad"

For expected outcomes my favorite response if allowed would be: "I have no earthly idea - what do you think?."

Yet, for all my frustration and occasional cynicism I do truly, deep down, feel disappointed I won't be able to be here to carry out a lot of what we are writing into these proposals. That has actually been on my mind a lot lately and I believe is most likely the sorce of my headache - the realization that I am leaving soon.

Leaving soon. Expected outcome: "I have no earthly idea - what do you think?"

No seriously, what do you think?

PS KWOK!!! If you are reading this I really need something small from the US - if you don't mind :) - just email me and I will let ya know what it is. I know... no shame.

Let the Game Begin

2006-07-05T08:04:00.000+02:00

5 of July - Portugal vs France - World Cup 2006. Our guesthouse is officially a pro Portugal crowd so come only if your wearing red and green. This could very well be the end of my casual yet somewhat committed fling. Death of romance over futebol? Only if France wins...

As armas, as armas!

For the Love of

2006-07-04T08:58:00.000+02:00

of some non-offensive higher power! Could someone please get the teams on the road so I can hear myself think! Arg.

Caffeine in the system, impending heat wave in the air - and me without patience to listen to the wat/san team's argument with obscure sheik that is blasting me from the desk over. Further annoying me, he is one of those sheiks that won't shake my hand (the whole woman thing). Double arg.

Oh well...

UN (Censored) came by today needing more info. I always like seeing this one lady - beautiful, freshly back from R&R, sunshine that she is. The women of Nyala need to organize another ladies night - we both agree on that one. Estrogen. Needed. At least on my side.

Last night, V and I watched the Weatherman w/ Nicholas Cage... I don't no if I have been out of the Western Hemisphere too long or what - but neither of us understood the movie. I mean two hours of his depressing, passive, unresolved anger/father issues life for the grand conclusion of settling for his place as a Hello America weather man... Is settling at 1.2 million a year, settling? What kind of weirdo parallel world to people live in back home that this movie is actually thought provoking? What the hell is there to feel sorry or perplexed about? So his life isn't perfect, at times even shitty, he pins his hopes on things that don't happen... so what! Welcome to the rest of the world... and if your going to have to face hardship at 1.2 million/yr... suck it UP!

Help... anyone? Don't get movie. At ALL.

It is such a Tuesday.

Final Four

2006-07-03T10:50:00.000+02:00

Oh my word... were in! Portugal is in! Granted, the game against England kind of sucked - just not a very pretty game at all and we've been slightly brutish this entire tournament - but who cares!!! Were IN!!!

My South African - pulling for England - friend Jono came over and we sat with the rest of the crew watching the game. Or rather they watched and I left for the second half cause I was couldn't handle it. The penalties almost killed me --- I would claim a new found love for Cristiano Ronaldo - but lets face it I am female, I've been infatuated with the Manchester hottie for a long time now. Not original and definitely shallow - but again, who cares!?

It is one of the moments when I have this sick desire to write all these guys who never took me seriously when I said we had good team, b/c ya know I am a girl, and what do I know about futebol? No, this week, maturity is not my strong point. Stupid boy MK's (with the wonderful exception of you Ben - thanks for the shoutout!).

This week - killer work wise - killer killer killer. Spreadsheets, proposal narritives, more spreadsheets... ugh. Give me money, please give me money, money please? Very very tired.

Dating in Darfur - lesson 2

2006-06-29T08:29:00.000+02:00

Lesson 2 - Ignore Gunfire... it is most likely celebratory or two cops pissed off at each other. Read on.

Eg. Setting: Rooftop, Time: Late Evening, Backdrop: Kick-ass lightening storm

Talk, talk, talk...
Bang...
Me: Did u hear that?
B: Hmm no...
Bang bang bang bang
Me: That.
B: Oh yeah - sounds like gunfire.
Me: Hmmm.O.K., Anyways...
Talk, talk, talk...

Back at guesthouse:
BANG BANG BANG BANG
Me: Wow, thats close, what is going on.
Z: Let me check.

More bang bang bang bang bang bang...

Guard: Mafi muskelah, mafi muskelah (ie. no problem, no problem), party.
Z: What...?
Guard: Party, its a party.
Me: That sounds smart - celebratory gunfire for a party in a war zone... yeah, makes alot of sense. I don't know WHAT we were worried about... remember the security meeting back in February?

Flashback!
Security Meeting in Feb.
- Yes, this is correct, you did hear gunfire last night in Nyala. It was reportedly an argument between three police officers.
NGO Community: "What the&&#@# ... three police officers - did we hear you right!?" looks being exchanged.
- Yes, an argument between three police officers - two were arrested afterwards and one is still at large.
NGO Community: "Oh... kay..."

Seriously, what is one to do?

My advice: Just keep talking and enjoy the date... it is only a party after all ... or three really pissed off-ed and armed cops.

Chai...mumkin?

2006-06-27T12:43:00.000+02:00

Last night, after walking around the market B and I decided to stop for tea at the "shisha park" in the center of town, right by the outdoor cinema that only plays old early 1990's Indian flicks. I confess I was dead - just completely tired from the day, heat and walk.

He ordered tea and then launched into this story about the time he drove around Cambodia for a week on his motorcycle - it was quite the story, the night was cool and breeze strong. The park is really just an open space between two buildings where tea and shisha vendors set up plastic chairs which customers can arrange accordingly. Mostly frequented by men in white flowing jallabiyas, hearty back pounding handshakes and the occasional expat contigency.

We talked for about 15 minutes and then realized that we hadn't gotten our tea or chai yet. Things in Darfur take time, but getting tea is usually not one of them. I was too tired to try and figure it out, but B after watching closely for a couple of seconds made the offhand observation as if it were the most natural thing in the world "ahh... they're out of cups". My offhand response "oh yeah..".

5 seconds later the silence was shattered by my explosive giggle, "B. ! Were in a place where we have to wait for other people to finish their tea and have their cups washed before we get served! And NO ONE is yelling about not getting served in 3.5 minutes, or that they're in a HURRY for pete's sake and they HAVE SOMEWHERE TO BE ..."

As a former Starbucks barista I would like to formerly go on the record and say: Give me Darfur chai anyday over a hurried, self-important can I please have a tall skim decaf extra hot cafe latte with added wip cream NOW experience.

I am starting to suspect that going back to the U.S. in the fall is quite possibly going to kill me. Mumkin?

Ole Ole Ole

2006-06-26T08:08:00.000+02:00

And WE WON!!! Portugal in a fit of childlike tempertantrums beat the Dutch in a match that frankly I would rather forget. It was embarrassing - and I LOVE my team. What was in the water? Or air, or... if you missed the match you arguably missed the most entertaining match of the cup so far.

I called my sis after the match was done only to be answered to by the sound of her voice singing the Portuguese anthem and the question "Man, didn't the Dutch play dirty??".

Beauty and I would add fair play is truly in the eye of the beholder.

Problems with BLOG

2006-06-17T19:57:00.000+02:00

I have been posting but they haven't been showing up. So please ignore my apparent lack of writting... Alive and well, and working alot this week in the field so I won't be very present on the blog. More to come to follow. Hmmm... that was redundant. For a good read on celebrities being used to promote issues such as Darfur click on this link

http://www.sojo.net/index.cfm?action=magazine.article&issue=Soj0607&article=060738

Meeting Mia Farrow....

2006-06-13T11:18:00.000+02:00

Yep, that right. Last night Mia and son came through Darfur as spokespersons for UNICEF. Bizarre. In a good way, but strange nonetheless - a colliding of two very different worlds in a setting that is surreal enough on its own.

So I am back. Have been back for 2 wks now and between dating blunders (see below), work and meeting celebs my life has been a blast in the most out of sync of ways. Coy finally moved into his "pad" on my side of the house and so I come home to guitar rifts and 5 o'clock happy hours.

The international community basically comes to an all out halt now a days at 4:30 - everyone penciling in imaginary meetings so that they can take off and see the world cup games. (Forca FIGO!) - Life is weird, the rythmn strangely mellow and boggy with the daily rains and I couldn't be happier.

What not to do when dating in Darfur

2006-06-13T11:10:00.000+02:00

Rule number 1:

Do not leave your VHF radio on and tunned into an open channel - unless you want the expat community to be privy to your entire date conversation...

Winged hearts

2006-05-26T13:32:00.000+02:00

I had the apartment to myself this morning and I found a box full of old photos, letters and miscelaneous items I kept, not wanting to throw them out but not knowing what to do with them either. In the box I came across a poem that someone sent me a year ago that I love. It has been a strange morning... of reminiscing, thinking through where I've come from and speculating as to where I might be going, looking over mental memories. Burts of laughter and a couple of tears. Trying to make sense of what all of this means, this being life, love and laughter.

No idea :)

Maudlin, No. Sentimental, Yes. But it is good and cleansing, I think, to have a walk down memory lane.

..let these be your desires:
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

--a little tidbit from The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran.

La Boda

2006-05-23T18:10:00.000+02:00

It is 5 P.M. and I am still in my nighty and yoga pants, curled up on the couch sipping coffee and munching on toast. I just walked came from my room where out of the corner of my eye I could see my dress in a heap, unmentionables scattered across the rug and sheets still unmade on the bed. All signs that it was a late night and that I rolled in around dawn with just enough energy to undress and crawl into bed.

My calves ache from hours of dancing. Yesterday, I went with three of my closest childhood friends and respective husband's/boyfriends to our girlfriend's wedding. It was wonderful... the meal ended at midnight and we danced until 4 A.M. to a menagerie of music from old high school favorites in the GNR and P. Abrunhosa vein, sappy Brazilian love songs, Latin beats and good ole hip hop courtesy of the Black Eyed Pies. The wonderful thing about Portuguese weddings is that they're a kind of mass karaoke party where everyone dances and belts out the song in one communal off key lip sync. After a 3 hr sit down meal that ended at midnight, the bride and groom opened the dance floor and we partied till 4 a.m. Good times... :)

In order of appearance above : Me and the Mod Sqad (Didi and Vera), Maria, and then Myself and Vera at the reception

Check out...

2006-05-19T20:46:00.000+02:00

Please check out the beautiful images and entertaining commentary on my friend and colleague´s blog What´s a Darfur

Genetic Default

2006-05-15T13:56:00.000+02:00

Yep, no denying all three Mosely women come with some kind of genetic default that keeps us just one degree away from classy/cool and perpetually in quirky zone on good days and weirdo/not normal zone on bad ones. Normal days are constant limbo.

Case in point:

Three days ago I get an email from Kristin aka THE LAW student (i.e. most outwardly together) and only one currently with normal boyfriend (feat yet unperformed by either myself or her twin Jenna - key word being normal). She is emailing me from the library where she had just had a vicious encounter with a frozen fruit bar. Yeah, a frozen fruit bar seemingly attacked her during her study break and glued itself to her lips refusing to let go. So after a lip vs. Popsicle stick wresting match in the student lounge she had to excuse herself to the restroom to try and stop the bleeding that ensued after she had ripped part of her lip off in the process of removing frozen fruit bar. Who DOES THAT??!!!! Who freezes a fruit bar to their lips in a fit of gluttony? My sis.

Three weeks ago I get a phone call from Kristin who loves to rat out her twin sis Jenna when Jenna performs feats of amazingly yet truly naive stupidity. She does this quite often, yet in her the quality is actually endearing as opposed to infuriating. I answer the phone to Kristin's breathless, half hysterical laughter and a big "you WILL never believe what Jenna just did!!". My mind immediately goes to the time she ran out of money somewhere between DC and Columbia SC, and having forgot her ATM card had to beg, yes beg, people for money at gas stations to fill up (twice)- she made it home. Or the time she left her car at the Charlotte airport (2 hrs away) flew to South Dakota where she left the car keys and had to have someone come meet her there after contacting the dealership b/c there was no spare. I could keep going... My immediate thought was "yeah, I probably can't guess but this is going to be GOOD!". In a fit of mechanical genius, as her car was overheating in a parking lot b/c she had locked the keys inside with it running, she decided to remove the "do not remove while hot" top to the radiator. Yeah... Thankfully she was fine but did involve a mad dance in the parking lot, stripping off hot wet clothes and a blitz dash to the bathroom of a coffee shop whose customers apparently had a front row view of the whole ordeal.

So today in typical Mosely sister fashion I pulled a "you've got to be kidding me..." moment. In anticipation of being back in Europe I packed only a very small roller carry-on with two changes of clothes. This b/c I left clothes at my parents and every thing I own here is well... lacking. I was already disgruntled about having to wear Chacos through Frankfurt airport. Having grown up in Portugal, Chacos are not and will never be appropriate footwear unless one is going hiking, lives in Colorado or coming off a backpacking trip. So... already feeling self conscious about how not together I am going to look, I decide at least I can be clean. Throw clothes into washer and 30 minutes later - I HAVE GREY CLOTHES!!! Or rather grey BLOTCHES all over my only two shirts (turns out my black tank bleeds). Great. Its like a tie dye job gone bad. Very bad. And its not even a shirt, its a knee length Indian sheath that is pink - so 2/3 of me is going to be pink and blotchy. With tailored slacks and Chacos. Looking like I lost a paintball match.

I can't wait!

Mental Sanity Glue

2006-05-14T14:10:00.000+02:00

(Losing Mental Sanity)

Toss, turn, sit up, lay down, toss, turn... again, repeat.

That was my night - until a big "forget this!" went through my head and I turned on the light and watched downloaded episodes of Lost until 2 a.m. My strategy this morning was to just pretend that the situation was funny, but what seemed at first like humor was deep down in a growing state of minor hysteria that kept me a fit of giggles all morning.

"Oh yeah, the visa thing.. Ha ha Ha... Ha ha... Ha... Damn it. - its not working." (sigh)

Then came lunch - gorgeous, mouth watering, homemade ravioli and canoli... And all I could do was watch my cell phone in between mentally bland bites on a queasy stomach.

It is amazing to me how much you don't realize you are counting on something or someone, and how this idea of place or person can literally be what is holding you together - they are subconsciously your mental sanity glue. This is what this R&R with my folks has become for me. Mental Sanity Glue. MSG.

Alas, the proper passport stampers, passport passer outers, and non-essential staff have looked on me with favor and it is with much relief, joy, gratefulness and anticipated mental sanity that I am happy to announce (insert drum role) --- that my exit visa has arrived and I am allowed to leave the country. (insert victory dance)

My thoughts exactly...

2006-05-14T08:47:00.000+02:00

"exit visa? wtf? it just doesn't make sense..."
from Ben

Remix

2006-05-13T21:28:00.000+02:00

So I came to the conclusion that it was time to change things up a bit. Firstly, i believe that I have been taking myself just a wee bit too seriously as of late and do believe my blog has become rather boring. Or rather non-eventful seeing as i have been massively lax with any kind of consistent update since February. And that's if you count pics as updates... probably not. At the moment STILL stuck in Khartoum - my patience is wearing exceptionally thin and I alternate between periods of beautiful amnesia and anxiety ridden burts of "what IF...".

Today, and i confess that this is by far my favorite excuse, my passport was reportedly ready but the passport passer out guy had not come into work due to excessive rain the night before and so therefore could not pass out my passport. Ah ha.

I am concentrating therefore on eating in pleasant 80 degree weather curtesy of aircon. This is my coping mechanism as of late, eating and checking me email every 10 minutes with the hope of distraction in the form of anything including junk mail. So dear one, if you do have a spare moment to sent me a note this darling over here would deeply appreciate the not so needed but much coveted attention.

NO Visa

2006-05-10T14:34:00.000+02:00

ARG *&$%%D@##

Yep - Inshallah Saturday. Whatever.

So no visa - no R&R (yet). I am rescheduled on Lufthansa for the evening of the 16th... will see. So back to Nyala and a huge meeting with Coy and the nomads in the hills of such and such on Sunday for an education assessment.

I am more rested and at peace. Patience is not my virtue but I believe I am learning.

Ice cream tonight at Tutti Frutti, one more morning of sleep and we will be fine for 5 more days.

Please keep it in your prayers.

Still in K-Town

2006-05-09T18:03:00.000+02:00

So ... Still in Khartoum - tomorrow is my last day to get my visa in time to make my flight Wednesday night. Inshallah. Actually, I am really ok with it at the moment, it is wonderful after all the mess to be somewhere where I can actually hear my thoughts. I have been reading the Life of Pi, doing Yoga, working on all the things I can't get done in Nyala and spending time just enjoying pure silence (and the hum of the aircon).

I had my first real shower since March 14th, and it was even HOT. The edges are less ragged and emotions not so poignant. I am grateful. Below is a picture of my staff when we were in the field and they decided to "dress me up" :) Not my best look... but the ladies are amazing. Will see what tomorrow brings.

Exhausted

2006-05-03T11:46:00.000+02:00

ExhaustedFor any of u following the news you will have a vague idea - inshallah - on how crazy things have been over here with the possibility of another peace agreement. Our areas of operation have been so volatile lately and we've had some very close calls. I am exhausted.

Coy made it back (Yippee!!!) and handing over PC responsibilities to him has been a joy. Having him back has been an absolute blast and we've kept each other laughing through this weeks stress. Its good to have someone with whom I can just let loose again.

There is a "ministry team" here and they're driving us all up the wall. I am scheduled for R&R and I NEED it - the edges wearing really really thin - but were waiting on my exit visa. If all goes according to plan I will be on a plane is a small state of euphoria May 11th destined for Portugal for 14 days.

All for now...

The Abyss

2006-03-11T16:31:00.000+02:00

March 1oth, 2006

Nugwi, Zanzibar

Stickly sea salt dampness on my skin. Beauty before me that I am unable to describe or even truly understand. Cut glass, liquid turquoise, shimmering seas. Whispering waters, swaying trees and fairytale endings.

Chattering children, local fisherman and mesmerized tourists. The mundane meeting escapism. This juxta position is often haunting and yet strangely in sync while worlds apart.

Sitting on the boat, water shattering underneath as we break its rythm I spot a shadow. A shadow moving at high speeds, darting as if amused at the inflexibility of the bow. Breaking the surface for reasons unknown... maybe joy, maybe curiousity, maybe pride ... or a combination of all three this shadow turns to silver mass leaving us all breathless in anticipation of more.

'Breath in breath out, breath in breath out' - my chest seems to tell me as I hear the sound of my own lungs amplified in my submerged head. The fish below me are incredible. Nibbling coral, each other, squiggly plants I cannot get used too what I am seeing. This aquatic jumble so surreal that I find myself perfectly content to just stare at one of those colorful creatures on end without growing bored or even curious at the others around me.

To my left is the wall, but for me if feels like an Abyss... a 50 meter drop of coral that plateaus out into white gorgeous sand. Oddly enough... it doesn't scare me and I dive, kicking hard yet knowing I can never reach that which feels so close.

2006-03-03T22:38:00.000+02:00

Swimming! I am not kidding... u can fit 3 people in at one time - I totally lost it while we were trying to take the pic.

2006-03-03T22:32:00.000+02:00

Nyala Beach

2006-02-11T15:01:00.000+02:00

My puppy !

2005-12-31T15:31:00.000+02:00

The Women of Darfur

2005-12-31T15:21:00.000+02:00

The Children of Darfur

2005-12-31T15:19:00.000+02:00

Food distribution - the camps, 1mo worth of food, the WFP lorry arriving, ration cards, the endless waiting for rations, goofing off with the kids..