Whirlwind!

I feel like I have so much to write about, it will be hard to put it all into one blog post. I'm adjusting to life in Spain, and honestly, it's been a slower adjustment than I expected. I guess it makes sense, I mean, I really have been in so many places in the last month... Uganda, Scotland, England, the US, Iceland, Paris, Spain... I've heard no less than ten languages and changed time zones a good five or six times within a matter of thirty days. What a whirlwind.

The world really is a beautiful place. Every new place I go, I realize once again that every place has something beautiful about it.

When I say that adjusting to Spain has been slow, I don't necessarily mean BAD. But it has been entirely different from anything I've ever experienced. I expected it to be easy... I mean, Spain is first world, just like the USA, so it can't be too different from my upbringing. And I desperately want to learn Spanish, so I figured I'll just jump right in and start learning, you know?!

I've been here a week now, and I'm just BARELY beginning to understand my host parents when they talk. Their Spanish accent is so different from the Latin American one I learned in high school! I still don't know my way around the city, and I haven't made any Spanish friends yet. I don't know how difficult my schoolwork will be, because we've only had two days of class. And it's been rainy, on top of all that.

But guess what, tomorrow the sun is supposed to shine! And I have some lovely American friends here who want to explore the city with me. And I'm going to meet some Spanish friends, because I have an intercambio to meet with next week. And that will help me get used to the accent here, I'm sure. And once school really starts, I'll have a routine, and that will be nice.

I'm learning to be content where I am. I miss Uganda so much. I think a big part of that is that I KNOW Uganda. I'm now in a new place, where I don't know anything. And I have to be patient. I'll get there.

I'll write again soon. I feel like I'm telling that to a long lost pen pal who I've severely disappointed with lack of letters. Sorry, I promise it won't happen again, I'll write within the week, etc...

But once I sort out my thoughts (in English and in Spanish, hopefully), and once I have some photos to awe you with, and once I have a little more grounding here, I'm sure words will flow quite easily!

Back on the road again...

Or should I say... in the air, on a random couch, etc...

After a refreshing three weeks at home, I'm headed back across the Atlantic again! Believe it, friends. As many of you know, I am required for my degree to do a study abroad, and Uganda didn't count because I wasn't at a university there. Not a problem, I said, I will just go study abroad the semester right after Uganda! So I'm currently in transit to Seville, Spain.

First stop: New York City. Had a good nine hours in the city, and it was nine hours too long. After dodging a shady taxi driver (my heart was literally beating so hard I think you could see it like in the cartoons), I decided to just play it safe and sit at the airport until my flight. It really wasn't bad; I met three lovely people: one from Sweden who was just studying in Duluth (small world), one from Australia who is on her way to study in Norway, and another from Poland who was just studying in Chicago. Contacts!

Next stop: Reykjavik, Iceland! This country has been on my top five for awhile now, in large part because of Sigur Ros and the beautiful documentary Heim they put out a couple years ago. I'm staying with a great couple named James and Audra, and hope to tour the Golden Circle, soak in the hot thermal pools, and experience the northern lights on a dark clear night.

Then: Paris, France for a night and a day. Staying with a girl named Alex who claims I HAVE to experience the lights of Paris at night. Sounds good to me. :]

THEN: Seville, Spain! Home for the next four months!

I'll continue to use this blog while I'm traveling about, so please keep following! And I'll probably have better internet access than I did while in Uganda! It will be interesting to see how my faith grows during this next chapter of life. This will be the first travel experience that isn't service oriented and that doesn't revolve around my faith. I expect to be a bit of a loner, but if I'm diligent, I bet it will only assure me more of God's faithfulness and provision. Prayer is appreciated... Love to you all!

Amazing Peace

Amazing Peace is a beautiful poem written by Maya Angelou. She read it aloud for the 2005 annual tree-lighting ceremony at the White House. I wanted to share it with you all... it's absolutely beautiful.

Amazing Peace
by Dr. Maya Angelou

Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.
Flood waters await us in our avenues.

Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and grey and threatening.

We question ourselves.
What have we done to so affront nature?
We worry God.
Are you there? Are you there really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?

Into this climate of fear and apprehension, Christmas enters,
Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope
And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.
The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,
Come the way of friendship.

It is the Glad Season.
Thunder ebbs to silence and lightning sleeps quietly in the corner.
Flood waters recede into memory.
Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us
As we make our way to higher ground.

Hope is born again in the faces of children
It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets.
Hope spreads around the earth. Brightening all things,
Even hate which crouches breeding in dark corridors.

In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.
At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.
We listen carefully as it gathers strength.
We hear a sweetness.
The word is Peace.
It is loud now. It is louder.
Louder than the explosion of bombs.

We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.
It is what we have hungered for.
Not just the absence of war. But, true Peace.
A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.
Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace.
Come and fill us and our world with your majesty.
We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian,
Implore you, to stay a while with us.
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community.

It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.

On this platform of peace, we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.

At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ
Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues at the coming of hope.
All the earth's tribes loosen their voices
To celebrate the promise of Peace.

We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and Non-Believers,
Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves
And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation.

Peace, My Brother.
Peace, My Sister.
Peace, My Soul.

Beautiful Christmas!

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart with be also." Matthew 6:19-21.

The past week has been... well, insane, to say the least. I was supposed to fly out of London last Sunday (19 December) but apparently if the city gets 3 inches of snow, the airport completely shuts down. Being from Minnesota, where it's a light winter if we get 3 FEET of snow, I was unimpressed. Naturally, I worried that I wouldn't make it home in time for Christmas, and was pretty frustrated at all the chaos.

We tried to make the most of our time there, which turned out to be fun actually. We jumped on beds; we ate out at nice restaurants, splurging occasionally on red wine to accompany our meal; and we got out into the city to see the musical Wicked, which was absolutely fantastic! So, I can't really complain about being stranded on an island for four days, but I was wishing the entire time to just be home with my beautiful sisters for Christmas day.

Well, miracle of miracles (and it truly is a miracle), I flew home on Thursday! From London to Germany to Chicago to Minneapolis I flew, ecstatic and joyful the entire time. And here I am, home with my mom and my sisters and our dog and cats. Home.

We discussed how, upon re-integrating into life at home in America, culture shock would be quite probable, coming from Africa for four months. I expected it and tried to prepare myself for it, which perhaps was slightly successful. But honestly, I'm coming back into America while the entire country is obsessed with a list of things they "want" or even "need," and it really has been culture shock.

Brothers and Sisters, who cares if your Christmas shopping isn't done. The water you use just to shower every day would give life to the 884 million people in the world who do not have access to sanitary water (1/8 of the world's population). For the 1.9 billion children living and growing up in the developing world (mainly South Asia and Sub-Saharan Africa), 1 in 3 of them are without adequate shelter.

But they still smile and laugh and play. They take wooden blocks and make them into cell phones. They find old car tires and wheel them around. They come across a broken down wheelbarrow, and now they have their very own vehicle. They draw in the dirt and play soccer with deflated soccer balls.

That's more than I can say I did when I was a kid. At age 6, I wanted to draw pictures with markers in EVERY color that Crayola offered. At age 9, I wanted that mini-car that actually drove around the cul-de-sac (my neighbor had one and I was jealous). At age 12, if my soccer ball lost a little air, it was time for a new one. At age 16, I wanted that phone that could take pictures and video and cost $100. And I still do it. I go to the mall, and I want a new dress (even though I have plenty of cute ones in my closet) or a new pair of shoes (even though I'm currently wearing shoes). And this is all after I've SEEN children with no clothes. Little girls with nothing to cover themselves. Little boys with bloody gashes on their feet because they have no shoes. This is all after I've seen babies on the verge of death because they don't get proper nutrition.

America. We have everything at our disposal, and oh, how good we are at disposing of things. We use what we want right when we want it, and we get rid of it when we're finished with it.

Take a step back this Christmas. Enjoy giving gifts, and be merry, but think for a moment about just how blessed we are. You can look out your window at the beautiful snow-covered trees, or you can look into your childrens' smiling eyes and healthy faces, and you can see the infinite beauty of God's majesty. You are breathing. Living. You are a gift. You are such a gift. As are those children and families living with nothing in the third world.

It's time we realize that WE are often the answer to our own prayers. We are change. We have the means to restore the lives of the broken; to feed the starving, to hug the orphan, to house the widow. It begins with eager hearts and educated minds. It begins with you and with me. It might sound crazy, but what if we started a revolution this Christmas season? What if we didn't give in to the materialism (including the after-Christmas sales) and we created a beautiful change for another person?

Merry Christmas, Readers. I hope it's a beautiful one for you. Love is still winning, and hope is still here, and change is not only coming... it's happening. Let's go.

(To read facts and stats I've used, click here http://www.globalissues.org/article/26/poverty-facts-and-stats).

Let Justice Roll.

This is Betty. She's fourteen years old and weighs 25 pounds. She has severe CP and a big overbite, so it's really hard for her to eat, which could potentially partially explain her malnutrition. The good news is... she's currently living at the Serving His Children house in Jinja, Uganda (www.servinghischildreninuganda.blogspot.com). She's getting the nutrition she needs to grow, and she smiles and laughs. I fell in love with her just during the two and a half days I was there... I can't wait to see pictures of her when she's bigger and stronger!

This is Joellia. She's seven years old and, like Betty, weighs 25 pounds. She doesn't walk or talk or look you in the eye when you talk to her... but just six months ago, she was healthy and attending school. She's also living at the SHC house in Jinja, getting proper nutrition and care. Since she arrived there, her rigid little body has relaxed a bit. She's still holding on to life. I don't know how, but she is.

How does this happen? Why is malnutrition and starvation a problem in our world? Don't we know better than to let this continue? Praise the Lord that these two girls are getting what they need. What can we do to fight this?

I don't really even know what to say in this blog. I can't write about it eloquently, and I can't make it seem okay. I can't hide my anger or my frustration at this injustice.

I'm leaving Uganda today, but what I've seen and heard (in Jinja as well as in the north) will stick with me. I'm going home because I have to learn more... about malnutrition, about trafficking, about what I can do. Then I'll be back.

See you soon...

Home.

I think twelve days is the longest I've gone without writing to you... I'm sorry, readers. Sorry, Mom. Today is a good day to write, though, because throughout the day today, I think I felt every emotion on the emotional spectrum.

The morning began normal enough; the clouds out my hut window a beautiful bed of pinks and oranges, coaxing the golden sun to wake up and warm the earth. I can't help but smile each morning as I pull my long sleeve tee over my head and stumble out the door to breathe the fresh crisp air.

December sixth. I didn't think it would come this fast. I remember back in September when I moved here and met all the kids. Back in September. Wow. Mama Rose told me that their school term ends in early December and then they'd be going back to their home villages. It seemed like so far away, and really it was. But here it is, and although I awoke this morning and smiled at the sunrise, I secretly dreaded getting out of bed; dreaded admitting that today really is the sixth of December already.

Still slightly groggy from dreaming, I walked towards the four houses where our 67 beautiful children live. "Good moooorning, Brynn!" I hear from Mercy House. "Good morning, Solomon," I wave back. He looks so sharp in his blue checkered button-up shirt and his clean shaven head. He comes to hug me, and notices the heart he drew on my arm yesterday. It's faded from my shower last night, and he looks concerned.
"Can I fix it?"
"Of course," I respond.
"Okay, you wait," he says over his shoulder as he runs inside his home. Shortly after he comes out and puts a small white heart-shaped piece of paper into the palm of my hand. I smile. This heart will last much longer than one drawn on my arm.

I walk over and Love House and find Faida, Abedkwene, and Ayaa eating breakfast. Their smiles are probably enough to make the sun shine for days, and although I'm so happy to see them, I feel tears welling up in my eyes. Do they really have to go? Janet comes out the door, and immediately says, "Don't cry."
"Janet, I will try. But when you say that I just want to cry more!"
She looks about to cry now too, but Solomon saves the day with his silly joking, "Okay, you cry! You cry! .... No but don't really..."

How I will miss these children, my brothers and sisters.

Finally, all 67 kids pile into three fifteen-seater vans. (This is Africa, folks). Hugging and saying goodbye to them all was draining enough; now we just have to wait and stare at them all until the drivers are ready to start their engines. (Again, this is Africa). Each minute seemed to cling for dear life to the one before it, so all the minutes bled together and the hour seemed like an eternity. It's not that I was ready for them to leave... it's that I had convinced myself they were leaving, and then they kept still being there.

Eventually, of course, the vans pulled away, little brown arms waving goodbye and beloved voices shouting "amari!" which means I love you. I love them, too. I hope they know it. My last image was Clinton's hand, and then the van turned the corner.

Suddenly, the compound felt like just that: a compound. No longer was it a home full of laughter and energy; now it was simply a compound, empty and doomed to wait patiently for "home" to return.

Drained and sad, I walked to the church and sat in the window, allowing tears to flow. I thought about how much I missed them already. I thought about how they don't want to return to their home villages, because some of them don't even have guardians to care for them. Many of them are going back to an empty hut; a place of hardship and bad memories. Then I realized I can't focus on that. I just spent three months with 67 amazing human beings! How blessed I am. How thankful I am that I was able to spend enough time with these kids to actually BE friends with them! They taught me better than to be sad at their departure. They taught me joy and peace, despite sadness and tribulation. They're living proof that God truly cares for and provides for his children. I have nothing to be sad about... I have everything in the world to be happy about.

I realized today, more than ever, that home isn't necessarily just a place. I've called this village home for the past three and a half months, but it's not simply the village that is home... it's the kids. My brothers and sisters; my friends. Home is also in Minneapolis, and I'm so excited to hug my mom and my dad and my sisters when I get there. Home is also in Milwaukee, and I have so many wonderful friends to look forward to there as well. Home will soon be in Spain, where my host mother Mercedes waits for my arrival.

Home isn't just a place. Home is where you can give love, and have love, and be loved. What a beautiful gift to embrace home where you are. To love. These kids taught me so much. I'll miss them incredibly.

Nairobi!

Last Tuesday we took a bus down to Kampala and then hopped on an overnight bus to Nairobi, Kenya! Our Ugandan visas were about to expire, and after much asking around, we concluded that the easiest way to extend a visa is to leave the country and then come back in! So we decided to make a mini-vacation of it.

We got to Nairobi around 5:30am, exhausted and groggy. We met a wonderful lady named Norah on our bus, and she helped us SO much by making sure we were safe and that our lodge shuttle arrived! We're thankful for her.

The place we stayed was called Heart Lodge, and it was overwhelmingly beautiful and comfortable! Hot showers and clean floors! It even had little bushes in the shapes of hearts...


How cute.

So, I'll divide this Kenya trip into days! Here we go!

Day 1 (17 November):

Unfortunately, Collin wasn't feeling well so he just stayed at the lodge and slept all day... which is probably best. So, me, Suzie, Leilah, and Erin were taken by our taxi driver to a huge mall... it definitely rivaled the nicest malls that I've seen in America. Talk about culture shock... what a world of difference from the mud huts we've grown accustomed to. The food court probably had every type of cuisine you could ever want, and the mall had multiple levels full of stores and banks and kiosks. We didn't stay long- just enough time to exchange some money, buy an issue of Newsweek magazine, and eat some hummus and pita!

After the mall, we took the cab to the giraffe feeding center! Probably one of the most tourist-y things I've ever done while traveling, honestly. But it was so fun! We fed giraffes right out of our hands and enjoyed a Stoney afterwards... my favorite African soda. It's like a spicy ginger ale!


It was a pretty great day and we slept SUPER well that night.

Day 2 (18 November):

Collin was much better, and we were happy to be back together as a team again. Breakfast at the lodge was the best thing about Kenya, I think. Seriously. Scrambled eggs, crepes, WHOLE WHEAT TOAST!, and fresh fruit! We felt like kings and queens. While eating, we met a couple, Pat and Don, staying at Heart Lodge as well. We learned that they regularly travel to Kenya, and spend their time there building libraries and doing work in various communities getting clean water. Very cool. We asked them for tips on what we could do in the city on a low budget, and after thinking for a few minutes, they offered to let us use their hired van for the day! They also basically made our itinerary for us for the day.

First, we went to see a ministry called WEEP. They're located in Kibera, the largest slum in East Africa.

WEEP takes in women who are HIV+ and teaches them life skills, like sewing and bead work. Many of these women are shunned in the community in Kibera... for instance, one woman, Lillian, was forced out of the home that she lived in with her brother. When he learned of her HIV status, he locked the door and said he wanted her and her child gone for good. She ended up on the streets, begging. Neighbors wouldn't even give her water because they fear people with HIV. Thankfully she found WEEP... now, she is healthy because she is taking the ARV pills, and she knows how to sew! She is making an income that is supporting her and her child. The people in the community no longer look at her differently because you can't even tell she's sick. Incredible.
This is Gladys on the left, the woman who started WEEP and cares for the women who come. On the right is Evelin, a woman who has been with WEEP for two years now (since the start). She's full of joy and life, and tells her story without hesitation. They're standing at a table full of crafts (necklaces, bracelets, rings, skirts, tablecloths) that the WEEP women made!

WEEP is great because it gives the women a community to share stories and tears and laughter. They all understand what it's like to be outcasts, and they all understand the feeling immense joy when they are accepted as they walk around Kibera.

After visiting Kibera, we went to a game reserve and had another tourist adventure... a safari walk! Really it was kind of just a glorified zoo... we walked on a raised walkway and looked at animals who were in cages. It was a beautiful landscape though, and we enjoyed just hanging out and walking around.

For dinner, we went to the Trattoria at the suggestion of Pat and Don. It was some of the best Italian food I've ever had! Maybe I'm just deprived of a variety of flavors and textures, but seriously... it was definitely a highlight of the Kenya vacation. I even got mint chocolate chip gelato for dessert! What a treat!

Day 3 (19 November):

We went to a park in downtown Nairobi and just hung out all day before leaving. Sitting the park was nice and very relaxing... we walked to a nearby grocery store and got bread and cheese and carrots. The perfect picnic!

After eating, we explored the city a little bit. We got ice cream and had no trouble finishing off the entire tub...

Then, we headed to the bus station (braved the worst traffic jams I've ever seen), and were headed home to Uganda.

All-in-all, it was a great vacation! We enjoyed our time but were so happy to be back home with the kids. Hugging them all when we got back was wonderful... I'm going to miss them so much.

Look forward to another potential photo blog coming soon... we're going to celebrate Thanksgiving as best we can tomorrow, so I'll be sure to tell you all about it.

Thanks for reading! I love you all. -Brynn

Today.

"Morning by morning, new mercies I see."

I want that to be my song each day when I awake.
How beautiful is the promise of each new day!
I am not promised tomorrow, but I woke up today.

I have today.

What a blessing it is that I can see shapes and colors.
The green blades of grass, tall and slender.
The wispy white clouds against the perfectly blue sky.
The streams of golden light as the sun gets higher and higher.
The tiny drops of dew on every leaf.
The blue-bellied bird pecking the dark brown soil.

What a blessing it is that I can hear the sounds that morning brings.
Kids chattering away, or singing as they go about their chores.
Ravens cawing from high perches.
Little birds chirping back and forth.
The neighbor's cows mooing.
Empty jerrycans thumping together.
That low buzz that tells me the world is waking up.

Today I will praise Your name for every little thing I see or hear or do, because without You, I wouldn't have today.

Today I will love others above myself and serve without wanting return.

Today I will thank You as I walk, because I You have given me legs that work.

Today I will smile in the good times, and when I'm sad, I will cry and ask for Your comfort.

Today I'll tell people that I love them, because I don't say that often enough.

Today I will listen when people talk and make time for conversation.

Today I will be productive, but I'll also make time for play and rest.

Thank You for today.
Thank You for waking me up this morning.

Morning by morning, new mercies I see.

Amen.

Not For Sale

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men [and women] do nothing." -Edmund Burke

The horrors I'm learning about...

Twenty-seven million slaves exist in our world today.

I don't know about you, but the word "slave" makes me a little bit uncomfortable. Slavery doesn't exist any more, I'd like to think. Abraham Lincoln signed the papers 160 years ago, and slavery become illegal. There are no more slaves...

But there are. There are sex slaves. There are slaves forced to fight and kill. There are slaves forced to work long hours for a wage far below the legal minimum. There are slaves trafficked across international borders to a country where they don't know anyone and can't speak the language. Slaves who are told that if they try to escape, they will be found, and they will suffer.

People bought by other people. People "owned" by other people.

That makes me even more uncomfortable. That makes me mad.

Slavery today is much much different than it was 160 years ago... back then, slaves were a long-term investment. Slave owners had a reason to keep the slave alive. I'm not saying conditions were any better for slaves then than they are for slaves now, but slaves today are disposable. Once a slave exhausts his or her usefulness, a slave owner can easily get another one at no great expense. There's no reason to treat them well, honestly.

In Cambodia alone, there are currently 30,000 children exploited in the sex trade. And that's just one small country. What have we done about this?

The kids I'm spending time with every day here in Uganda were also abducted to be slaves. Eighty percent of the LRA ranks are child abductees; boys forced to smash their own brother's head with an ax, or girls starved to death by their rebel leader until they give in and have sex with him. And what do we do?

Nothing. We do nothing. What if it was your own child, stolen from your home and forced to perform unimaginable "duties"? What if it was your own child, starving and crying and cold? What if it was your own child dying?

"To say that the poor have rights means to accept that street children hold the exact same value as our own children. Our society is not yet ready to affirm this truth." -Lucy Borja

Again I ask, what have we done about this injustice? We haven't even tried to learn about it, because it's uncomfortable.

Well, perhaps if the abductors were stealing oil rather than children, the world would pay more attention.

It's foolish to assume that this is only taking place in third-world countries like Cambodia and Uganda. Yes, the majority of trafficked people come from impoverished places, but did you know that 75% of all New York apparel-manufacturing firms are sweatshops, using forced labor or paying workers below minimum wage? Foreigners are trafficked to the United States from at least 35 countries.

I had no idea. I can honestly say I didn't know the statistics were that high. But now that I know, I promise you and I promise those slaves that I'll be doing my research before I buy my clothes next time.

Slavery could be taking place in a hotel you stayed in last month, or the nail salon you went to last week, or in the karaoke bar you drove past last night. I wouldn't be surprised. And now it's a whole lot closer than you thought, and now you could reasonably do something about it because it's close to home. I said it last blog post and I'll say it again... we must refuse to accept a world where one individual can be held the property of another.

It's much easier to ignore the injustices in the world than it is to take a stand. To take a stand would mean making some sacrificial personal choices. But I encourage you to try. The pursuit of justice inevitably creates a social legacy.

I am mad about this right now. I apologize if this post sounds judgmental. I'm mad about injustice, especially when we can do something about it... especially when I can do something about it. I just read a book called "Not for Sale: The Return of the Global Slave Trade- and How We Can Fight It" by David Batstone. As the title suggests, it brings to light much about what is currently going on in the world in regards to trafficking. It's where I got the information I just wrote about. I can't stop thinking about it, and about what we can do.

I'm so thankful that all of this will pass away one day. Broken political systems, inequality, nationality, slavery, all of it. Love will win the end. Why don't we act like it?

A different normal.

I realized recently that our days here are dwindling. It's November already... how did that happen?

Sometimes it feels like I'm going to go back home after a long glorified summer vacation. I'll get a new haircut and start school in the fall, and the weather will gradually get colder, and my friends will have stories of late summer nights and sipping lemonade by pool sides and summer flings, but overall not much will have changed and life will go back to the normal routine.

Then I look at the calendar I sketched into the pages of my notebook. It's November 3rd.

In a way, I will be returning home after a long glorified summer vacation. Its hot here... that's like summer. But I'll step off the plane and the biting winter temperatures will surely snap me out of summer mode. The stories I hear will be about sleepless homework-filled nights, and sipping hot cocoa around a fireplace, and the lack of social life that everyone has endured, and everything will have changed, and I won't go back to the normal routine.

I can't go back the normal routine. Maybe that's a better way of putting it. I can't, and I won't.

I can't go back to the normal routine because of Prossy. I can't spend money the way I did, because Prossy needs a sponsor to go to secondary school. She is just finishing up primary school, and she will begin secondary in February if she has the funds. Secondary school costs more than primary school by a fair amount. If she doesn't have the funds, it's likely that she will get married within the next couple years, because it's easier and then her guardian doesn't have to support her any longer. She's twelve years old. She wants to be a lawyer. What if I gave up buying new clothes every so often so that Prossy can go to secondary school? What if we all sacrificed money so that these children can have bright futures?

I can't go back to the normal routine because of Gloria. She's taught me to laugh at everything. To find joy in each day. To do something when bored. This girl is sassy but so easy to get along with; she simply loves life. Small annoyances or things that frustrate me each day are so petty, and I want to learn to look past them to see beauty and joy in everything. How can I go back to the normal routine after meeting Gloria, who sings louder, climbs trees higher, and smiles bigger than anyone?

I can't go back to normal routine because of Norbert. Rebel soldiers came to this boy's home when he was around eight years old. They forced him to kill his parents, cut them into pieces, boil them over a fire, and eat them. Norbert's story is unbelievable and makes your heart drop to your stomach, but now, it's a story of resilience and healing... today, even though he is shy, he plays and is a kid again. He smiles and laughs. He is gentle and loving. Remembering Norbert's story convinces me to come back to Africa. There are twenty-seven million slaves in our world today. This includes the Ugandan child soldiers forced to fight. I can't go back to the normal routine, because stories like Norbert's can't happen anymore. We MUST refuse to accept a world where a person is held as the "property" of another person, forced to do unthinkable things.



I can't go back to the normal routine because of baby Esther. When she sprints into my arms after I haven't seen her for two days, the entire world melts away and that's all that matters. This baby girl's mother, like Prossy, was extremely intelligent and passed her primary school exams with flying colors. Because she didn't have enough money for secondary school, she was married at age fifteen to a man much older. She's happy and finds joy in life, but wants her daughter to be able to go to school. She wants to give baby Esther the opportunity she didn't have. In my normal routine, I never thought about situations like this. It was easier to ignore injustice when it didn't have a face. But now injustice could be Esther being married in 14 years, simply because she doesn't have school fees. I can't go back to the normal routine and not think about this. I must do what I can to change this, not only for Esther, but for children in Milwaukee as well.

My time here in Africa is not just a long glorified summer vacation. In these four months, I'm living a lifetime of stories and hugs and smiles and tears. And when I go home, my routine can't be what was normal. Normal has to be different. Maybe we can do it together, all of us. Maybe we can make a different normal... one where poor children can go to school. One where adults and kids alike can find joy in the simple things and laugh simply because life is good. Maybe it's idealistic, but I am convinced, after being here and seeing these kids, that it's completely realistic. Let's try.