Sun Dancer

Owen & Mzee

2010-08-27T12:19:00.000-07:00

I've been home a little over a week. And i've had a lot to come home to! And there's a lot to say about that, and think about that, and process with that. And all that is the blog post for another day. Sufficeth it to say that reentry, although blissfully laden with hot showers and doctor pepper, has not been easy. And I feel the joy in my eyes slowly seeping back into the hidden crevices of the bottom shelf like a bubble bath left alone too long.

I've done little to retain the joy, to prevent it from slipping back into the deeper parts of me. I could attribute my reemersion into reality to the 2x4 of confusion that painfully wacked me upside the head one week ago today. Or to the functional necessity of work and the mass's petty dramas of human interaction. Who knows why America errods me?

For whatever reason, I know that my face does reflect the joy, the incredible sense of rightness, that I see when i look at my picture with Owen. (Owen is the beautiful african baby that I met while in Uganda that cosmically shifted my universe for those of you that don't remember...)

And then today, God sent me a little joy bug. Like an annoyingly persistant mosquito that swarms around your head, you can hear it, you can sense it approaching, but you can't quite locate it enough to squash it before it gets you. And instead of sucking your life from you for its selfish purpose, it infuses you with a little burst of life force and then unselfishly goes on its merry way. And today that joy bug is a book called Owen and Mzee.

On my way back from a week long regional training event in Chattanooga, a week of out to eat suitcase living, and a week of still not feeling home home, I decided to stop at Nashville's montly flea market. I've been living here in Nashville for a year and have always wanted to go but have never been able to. Last night I had a dream of a treasure chest for Ft. Miriam and decided that I needed to stop by the flea market and find one.

So I park for free becuaes it's friday. And i immerse myself into the smells and sounds and sights of an american day in the south. It reminded me of the african markets with crates of junk, smells of fried food, and lots of interesting people to see. I found my treasure chest after about 20 mintues and $20. Perfect! But I kept wandering.

And then i ended up at this children's book vender. $3 a book he warmly informs me. $3? What the great day? And so i joyously read all the preschool books wondering to myself if Owen has any books? If he has anyone to read to him at night as he's falling asleep? If anyone has even taken the time to teach him his letters? I opened all the pop up books (they are my favorite.) I touched all the fuzzy books. And I giggled at all the countdown books of monkeys, acorns, and bumblebees. I try to experience these silly books like Owen would. The first time feelig the soft fake fur of a bear, the cuddly material of a baby sheep. It's enough to break my heart the longing I feel to curl up with this baby and read him a story.

I picked up two copies of my favorite book " I love you becuase you're you" and nearly cried wishing I could hand deliver it to that baby in Africa and tell him how true it is and how enternal it could be if only it's God's will.

And i started to hear it...the buzz buzz of the joy bug. Zooming around my head and heart, reminding me that there is a Creater and a Master Planner who knows where each of His children are and what each of His children need. And I stood still a moment to see if the joy bug would land so that I could feel the full infusion.

And then I saw it. The joy bug. Right on the tip of my nose.

In a book named Owen and Mzee. It's the real life story of a rescued baby hippopotumus from Kenya and his unlikly friendship with a giant turtle named Mzee.

Owen was lost, stuck, and hurting for a family. He was vulnerable and yet already heavy. Mzee was solitary, hardened and protected by an enormous shell perfectly content to roam the boma alone.

Owen's uncanny ability to persistanlty force Mzee to face him, their supernatural ability to communicate (they developed sound paterns unique to both of their species), and the obvious force of need and affection, created an inseperable and unusual connection not before seen or fully understood in the animal world.

Now they can be seen eating, swiming, sleeping, and playing together. Scientists don't know what provoked or maintains this connection. All they know is that "no matter how things turn out, the story of their frineship will always remind the world that when you need a friend, one will be there for you. And that best friends come in all colors, shapes and sizes."

And so do mommys and baby boys.

Blessings,

Shai

ground zero

2010-08-16T04:38:00.000-07:00

Today is the last day... the countdown says zero. ground zero to rentry. ground zero to the new shai who has lived in africa. The jumping off point for my new life, my new adventure, my new future. I don't even think it's going back home. It's not going back at all. Everything is different now...

wow. That's really all i can say. Wow. It's over. I did it. And now i'm coming home. I can't decide what i'm feeling really. I know i definately don't feel like working on my last day...i'm totally distracted, totally checked out from this whole school policy writing business...

This weekend was frustrating and confusing and overwhelming. It gave me realization that yessh i'm so done with the african schedule.can't people just show up when they say the will? I mean seriously!

And then there was connection and some of the strongest most powerful love i've ever felt in my life and i thought yessh how have i been living without this my whole life? How can i ever leave these people.

I bought an african dress. With a head wrap and everything. I felt so silly - like a total poser. But strangers stopped me on the street and told me how smart i look. (thats african for beautiful) And the complements were flowing like orange fanta. It was a nonstop onslaught of "wows! and incredibles!" and my favorite - "you make a beautiful African woman." and even though it's crazy - why not believe them? Why not accept that I look smart?

i'm sure my 36 hour return trip will give me time to process all the lessons and changes that africa has given me. I haven't put them all together yet.

But this weekend i took a bus by myself. Negotiated my own taxi fares. Met with a man who wants to open a school here and told him what he needs to do, like i'm some sort of expert. Handled the Genocide memorial with out a shoulder to cry on - i handled and processed all that emotion and pain and then released it into the past of Rwanda. I went to the market by myself, bought my own dinner, and did my own bargaining. I spoke in church, lead the music, taught an unexpected sunday school lesson. I gave open and complete love to the frustrations of family and cultural differences. I committed to the universe to jump into the unknown and the scary. I totally navigated the city and the waves of the weekend.

and on my taxi ride home last night, i thought to myself - wow. i've done it. I've totally done it. I've helped to open a school for women in a developing nation. I've fallen in love. I have a new son, a new future. The past 18 years of planning and dreaming have happened.

I make a beautiful African woman.

Godfrey's eyes are closed but we're still cute huh?

See you wednesday America.

Blessings,

Shai

ode to dr pepper

2010-08-16T04:28:00.000-07:00

the thirst is a haunting me like a child hood ghost story
lurking under my bed

ready to appear

ready to attack
ready to overtake me at my weakest moment

the need is aching like the missing of a memory
stuck inside my subconscious
ready to appear
ready to attack
ready to overtake me at my weakest moment

the want is consuming me like the obsession of an adict
breaking through my will to work
ready to appear
ready to attack
overtaking me...

ahhh...uganda day 2

2010-08-13T01:40:00.000-07:00

Wow Life is happening so fast i don't even have time to record everything!

Before i recap Uganda day 2, everyone please know i'm safe and protected and everythign is fine. Elections happened here. They were peaceful and beautiful from what i hear (I was in Uganda on day 3). Until Wednesday night. There was grenade attack in town where several people at a bus stop were injured. Final numbers have not been released yet. I was about 30 yards from the attack but inside a building and didn't hear or know about any of it. Luckily, my friends were looking out fo rme, called me, and told me to go home right away. I was obviously distraught but a guardian angel apporoached me, and, in french, asked me what i needed and how she could help. She got me a moto taxi, explained to the driver where i needed to go, and sent me on my way. She smoothly transitioned me from a panic stricken crazy situation to the safety of home. I'm so grateful for the french guardian angel lady and that once again God saw it in his wisdom to teach me french. Please pray for those affected by the terrible and vicious stupidity of others.

Ok Uganda day 2.

Church. I went to a little church that meets in an old house. There is a keyboard but no one to play it. Instead we sing off key occapella with all the ferver of the pioneers. These people really sing with joy. and the man conducting the music, who didn't actually know how to conduct (or even sing for that matter) was just waving his arms around and smiling with his whole face and practically shouting hosanna with his heart. It was beautiful to watch. But no pictures in church so you'll have to imagine him!

Then sunday school taught by a 17 year old. And he was soo Good! We sat the garage of the old house with no windows and folding chairs. We had our back to the sun and our hearts to an old chalk board proped up against the wall. And then the class for the women - what we mormons called Relief Society. And we had a talk about Faith in Christ. And noone knows faith in Christ like an african woman. They don't just believe it. They are it. They are a walking testimony of the power of Faith. how else could you live with the burden of being an African women caught inbetween the past and the future. Loving your children but hating the possibilities denied to you becuase of your gender. And for some reason they thought i had somethign meaningful to say and asked me to speak. So i shared about the power of dreams and the committment of our Heavely Father to the happiness of his children. And that the universal language that unites us all is the love of God. And it seems the message was for me and not for these beautiful women. It was a testimony to my own ears that my heart was sharing with me.

After church a lengthy and bumpy car ride to the place where my life changed. We went to see Godfrey's mom who runs a boarding house for 150 boys that are attending school. As we pull up, a small boy in a red shirt, walks up to me and puts his hand in mine. And the stars alingned and the heavens shifted and my world moved to orbit this child.

His name is Owen. He is 5. He's had a terrible story and the burn marks on his arm to prove it. But he has the most beautiful smile, and face, and soul, and everything. And he is now part of me. And will be coming home with me soon.

Illogical? Yes! Difficult? Hell yes. Detered? Not in the least.

Thenwe drove to another villiage to meet Godfrey's grandma. She wasn't there but we found several other beautiful children running barefoot through their front yard. And woman making dinner in banana leaves. But not for us becuase we were eating at Godfrey's sister's house. Spagetti and mashed potatos and this awesome salsa thing. DELICIOUS!!!

During our driving around in the villiages and staring into the face of so many children, I felt their eyes begging me why i was born in the land of limitless future and they were born to play in a trash heap. And I had no answer for them. No response.

What can a middle class white girl (who spends an entire villiage's salary on one semester of universsity) say to these children begging me for future? What can this middle class white girl say to herself when her heart is breaking for the children of africa?

I know i'm not the first to travel those bumpy ungandan village roads. and i know i'm not the first to morn for the limited future of the trash pile children. But for that Sunday night car ride i felt like i was moving through a simulated reality. I was driving back to my $40 hotel room and my limitless options, and my wide open future - and leaving behind red dirt and beans for dinner, and barefooted trashpile entertainment. And I could feel my heart breaking as I watched the sun set on the villiage.

I moved as rapidly as i could muster a response to the "evening welcome home sista" to the security guard, secure my hotel key, and make it to my room. And then the african emotional tsunami hit. And i could feel the injustice and unfairness of the russian rullet of life cresting inside of my body like a boiled over pot of ramen noodles. And the total helplessness of knowing that i left those children in the villiage, and my meager resoucres could not take them all to my nashville cottage, and that giving them american might not even change anything, left me totally drained on the bathroom floor.

Even sitting on the toilet while taking a shower did not help my heart as it would in any other circumstance.

And all I could think is "why do i have a future and they don't?" all those babies. all that need. what can i actually do here? but maybe they don't want the future that I had. maybe they like the villiage. maybe i should stop projecting my own american guilt onto their simple and happy life.

Maybe i should jsut sit on the toilet and wash my hair.

And wonder how Africa incited so much emotion in me that my nose actually started bleeding.

Which is a first.

Blessings,

Shai

ahh....uganda - Day 1.

2010-08-11T09:45:00.000-07:00

I made it! I am not a sex slave. I did not get kidnapped. And it was not a huge mistake. It was incredible.

First the bus ride. We loaded at 5:00pm after a brief run in with a money changer. (they tried to rip me off like $20 bucks!) But we caught them! And then we were on our way. 10 hours of bumpy twisty turny dirt road yuckyness. But we made it around 4am uganda time. And i'm almost certain I contracted a parasite somewhere along the way. Maybe it was the peeholes or the lack of sanitary food...who knows. But for the majority of the trip it felt like rabid squirrels were trying to claw their way out of my intenstinal track. Rabid quirrels and windy dirt ugandan roads at 2 am was not my favorite combination. But the anticipation of the experience was a legitimate distraction.

After a brief stop at the boarder between Uganda and Rwanda, and a deliciously cold Mountain Dew,

we made our way to our hotel, Hotel Barbados. and you could sit on the toilet and wash your hair in the shower! The hotel was 80,000 Uganda Shillings per night which equals about $37 a night. And I had a big four poster bed with a mosquito net that had lace around the edges. and even thought the matress was like a big foam rock, I had a pillow and a hot shower and scrambled eggs every morning so I was a happy happy camper!

After very little sleep, we headed out for a town called Jinja, like ninja but with a J. A total tourist trap for idiots like me who treasure natural wonders. Jinja happens to be the source of the River Nile, the body of water that has privided life for millions of people for millions of years. The price into the park was in Ugandan and Non-Ugandan price. Ugandan - 3,000 UGX ($1.40). Non-Ugandan - 10,000 UGX ($4.55). Talk about a rip off. And the determiniation of Ugandan v Nonugandan was not scientific in anyway. I could have totally been Ugandan. Stop judging me based on skin people!!!

So we walked through the gauntlet of tourist temption in the form of little huts that lined the staircase down to the River. Yessh so many lovely things. Drumbs and earings and sculptures that were made out of banana leaves. How can i resist such temptation? But alas, the River was calling me. We walked out onto some beams that jutted out into the river. And all you can do is stand there and soak in the power moving under you. And then i got sucked into a boat ride to the real source of the river nile. How could i go oall the way to Ninja Jinja and not see the real source? So of course it was worth the Non-Ugandan price to jump in the yellow and green boat called "god is good" that went about 10 feet up the river and the stoped with awh and wonder. At first i was thinking, man these people got me again. This is just 10 feet up the river.

And then I saw it. The way the water was bubbling and moving in one spot. 40,000 liters per second. Just bubbling up from inside the earths belly supplying half of history with it's entire story. And i just sat there. What else can you do? Well except take a picture and make a face?
Until the tour guide told me that on the other side of the river were two prisons. One for adults over 18 and the other for 17 down to age 6. You put 6 year olds in prision I asked? What for? Well you know for 6 year old crimes he answered in total seriousness. Hmm...nothing could destroy the Nile River like a prison for 6 year olds. What is this world?

We also saw some water falls, and some more crafty goodness. And a sign along the road that seems pretty profound if you ask me.

We stopped by the church house there just to poke around. I met a missionary whose family just moved to memphis. Took his picture cause i thought his mom would appreciate it. Then back to Kampala.

We stopped a roadside market and bought grilled bananas. Ummm...yumm!

And then Hakuna Matata for dinner. I might have previously mentioned the fame of Ugandan pork. Well, that night, i consumed. Not quite up to Nashville Barbeque but i'm not gonna lie - it was delicious. Pork on a stick. Like a kabab. With rice and beans and cassava (this tree root thing).

and then off to a cozy slumber in my lacey bed. The security guard greeted me and said "Welcome home sista." "well thank you security guard. Thank you so much."

What a great day.

Day 2 to follow! Blessings

Shai

Today is the day

2010-08-06T04:27:00.000-07:00

so i'm off! On a grand adventure, or horrible mistake.

I guess it could be both at the same time. Often our horrible mistakes turn into grand adventures that are just what we need.

This weekend is the Presidential Elections in Rwanda, a Ugandan adventure, the source of the river Nile, makets, buro buros, pork, hot showers, and NO WORK!!!

I'm pretty sure it will be my best weekend in Africa yet.

Please pray the borders are open, the pork is clean, and that I don't get kidnapped and sold as a sex slave. All very desirable things to ask of the universe.

and when I get back, I will only have 7 days left. 7 days!!! I can't belive it!

I've promised my boss at the YMCA that i will submit to full YMCA ownership for my first and second weekend back. But after that...

it's party time!

Roller Coaster Africa

2010-08-04T10:32:00.001-07:00

This past week and weekend has been such a topsy-turvey-make-me-crazy-eat-some-ice-cream kind of week.

I've gone from being so pissed at Africa that I wanted to jump on a plane home that very second, to so in love with all the dust filled craziness that I question if I could ever really leave to back to all the worries and insecurities of the beginning.

I've actually tried to write a couple blog posts that have been my various rantings in these disperate emotional states. But fortunately (or unfortunately) the internet connection here would time out before I could actually upload the message.

What assounds me is the amount of emotion that Africa is drawing out of me - and how quickly I can transition from one side to the other. I feel like a 5 year old. All the emotions hit and grow so strongly that it sometimes overwhelmes me. Just the sheer force behind them is enough to make me want to sit down and have some cheese cake. Bless the people that are magnetically getting drawn into my black hole of emotional bizarreness! Everytime I think i've gotten a steady footing, have found a center of operations here, something rediculous sends me off on another tailspin of African cursings.

I've never noticed this annoying flaw in my personality but maybe it's been there all along - it just took Africa to point it out to me.

A few examples of my frustrations:

Last weekend was umiganda. I think i've explained this before but it is the weekend service thing where your neighborhood community comes out to work together to improve the area. Brilliant idea i think. Except for the stupid cursing of my own whiteness. Annah, my sister, and I woke up that morning ready to go do some work. We had our trusty slasher, a long sharp stick/spoon thing you swing back and forth to slash things. And our spider, a cloven shovel that barely held itself together. We walked to our announced meeting point. After the usual stares and rediculously long time required to actually start something, we began clearing out a ditch close to the main dirt road in our neighborhood. And it took a good 2 seconds for someone to come and take the slasher from me and then another 2 seconds to take the spider from me and even less than that to tell me to sit down. As i Americanly sat there and watch my neighbors work, i wondered if they refused to let me work out of respect for my whiteness or out of disrespect for my whiteness. Is it becuase they think me incapable of working or because i actually am incapable of working? It's so hard to know.

Then when the towns meeting (in i language i had no hope of understanding) started, i asked annah if it would be okay if i left. She said no becuase I was needed at the meeting. Odd i thought, what could i possibly contribute to a town meeting? Oh right. Money. That's what I am. A walking bank. They passed around a hat collecting money but since i didn't know what it was for, i passed it on. Annah came up to me and explained that I represent the family and that i have to contribute, blah blah blah. So I threw in my meager 2000 RWF (around $4) with all the nonberbal expression of frustration I could respectfully muster. And the townspeople clapped for Annah. Horray! You got some money from the Muzungo. And so then of course, the nice lady i was sitting by says "hey you, give me a job. No? Okay, give me a place at your school. No? Okay, pay for my school fees. No? Okay, just give me money." I know they can't help the socialization that all whiteys have money but really...? I don't!

Frustration number two. My bosses who don't actually pay me who i don't actually work for forbid me from taking a weekend rendez-vous to uganda. Even though we can't work on mnoday becasue of elections. and i am not actually contractually required to work weekends. Who are these crazy freaking people?

And then ultimate frustration...the big meeting that i've been preparing for for weeks and weeks was cancelled 6 hours before it was supposed to begin. And so we had to call all 100 invitees and tell them it was canceled. Reason for cancelation? One of our board memebers scheduled another meeting with all of the people invited to our meeting for the very same night. Really crazy? Really???

But then the upside of the roller coaster. hmmmm...now that takes some effort to find. Oh yeah...when the crazy boss ladies called and asked when i'm planning to go to uganda like it was fixed all along. Oh these people. But i'm going to uganda. so that's great.

And then down the chute again when today some other crazy spit talker lady with super hairy armpits and one holy sock with her sandles told me that all the work i've done on the curriculum is totally off track. So frustrating.

and the triple layer chocolate cake of consolation from burbon cafe actually tasted like a graham cracker spice pumpkin concotion. But Godfrey's icecream was tastey.

And so the roller coaster is on it's way back up....

Blessings,

Shai

pictures of the church

2010-07-28T01:52:00.000-07:00

Our unique baptisimal font...

more pics coming as soon as my internet stops sucking!

Shai

family home evening

2010-07-27T01:51:00.000-07:00

we had an innagural family home evening last night. Around 10 Young Single Adults came. Well...young single adults is a liberal label. But i think everyone was single at least.

Let me explain the church house.

It used to be an old mansion but now it's an incredible villa. It's 2 stories with a huge wrap around porch balconly thing on the second story. The balcony is supported by big southernly columns that kind of remind me of tennessee. Except that the windows are tinted blue which i have yet to see in Tennesee.

The entrance leads you directly into the chapel, or the main room. It used to be a big living room in the house i think. The doors are a thick beautiful oak and the door handle is pretty glamourous gold. Directly behind the living rooms facing wall is a wide stair case that leads to the second story. Half way up the stairs we have 2 rooms. One's an office/library and the other is the missionary room. At the top of the stairs is a big room with a sliding glass door. This room faces the balcony rotunda. On either side of this big room are 4 more classrooms. One for the young women, one for the primary, one for the priestood, and a few more that don't have occupants yet.

Since we've only been in this chapel 2 weeks longer than i've been here (just over a month), there's not much for way of decorations or function. But we do have chairs, portable chalkboards, a kareoke machine turned av system, and a whole lot of love. We just got the plaque thing that holds the hymn numbers and the members were so excited.

It's a beautiful building that is still getting fixed up. The grounds are all mud at this point but there are plans for grass. The best part is the outdoor baptismal font that was made out of an old water well.

Anyway - FHE functioned much like any other YSA FHE. We had a lesson on happiness versus joy. We sang a song. We played a few games. and we had snacks. But Africa style is so much better. Playing do you love your neighbor with accents and multilingual complications made things fun. Then we played a blindfolded animal game. Everyone stands in a circle and one person is blindfolded in the middle. The it person points to someone in the circle and says can you make the noise of "insert animal here" and then tries to guess who it is making the noise. Somehow every animal noise here sounds like a man eating terradactle. You've never heard a cat sound so fierce! And our snacks beat any american snack. Baby bananans, tomato flavored potato chips, and ginger flavored caramels. Yummm.

My favorite part? At the end of the night we were all talking about food and snacks. One man said "Shai I'm going to start drinking lots of milk so i can be like you." "Like me?" I reply. "You want to be a whitey? I don't think milk can change skin color." He immediatly clarifies and says, "no no no. I don't want to be white like you. I want to be FAT like you."

Thanks nice african man. Thanks.

Blessings,

Shai

PS. I learned later the real meaning after asking my host family to ressurect my murdered self esteem. It was quickly explained that larger women are really beautiful to African men because it's a sign of health and vitality. So what he meant was he wanted to be healthy and strong like me. FAT = BEAUTIFUL in Africa.

I love this place!

We HAVE to do this. It's a LIFE GOAL.

2010-07-26T03:58:00.000-07:00

...My weekend expression that my new group of friends hated hearing...

So when i was born, i think some sort of wire got crossed in my brain. I don't remember a time in my life when i wasn't focused, or more like consumed with life goals. I think i knew i wanted to teach, or open a school, since i was like 10 years old. And since at least 12, i've been keeping a list of goals to accomplish in my life.

I think it started in young womens class at church where we wrote ourselves a note with things to accomplish in high school. We sealed it and stuck it in our scriptures. And then we were supposed to open at the end of school and see how we did.

I took this process very seriously. I lugged that stupid self addessed sealed envelop around for 6 years. I didn't forget what was on it. I made sure to make myself two copies so I knew exactly what i needed to do to be satisfied when it came time to opening the letter.

And so these lists (which i genetically attribute to my mom) have been around for years. And i'm usually pretty good at them.

Valedictorian - check.
Black belt before college - check.
Full ride scholarship - check.
Ivy league school - check.
Skydiving - check.

Blah blah blah on and on it goes.

I'm not trying to brag here. I'm just saying it's like a obsession. If it goes on my life goal list, I don't stop until I can cross it off. And i don't make new lists i just keep adding to the old ones. I like to see the crossed off list. It's just so psycotically gratifying for me.

And so this weekend, on my weekend of release and lack of control, I crossed of so many life goals that i didn't even know were part of me.

It's like that scene from Breakfast at Tiffiny's when they spend the whole day doing things they've never done before. And it's silly and playful and horribly unadult and perfectly exactly how i spent my weekend.

A few things I never knew I alwasy wanted to do:

I've never taken a should be 3 hour bus ride through the mountains of Rwanda. I've never had to pull over so the president's motorcade could pass us on the street. I've never almost puked on the back seat of a bus. I've never gone dancing in a Rwandan disco to throw back 7th grade skating rink songs. I've never had sugar cane and advocado bought from right off a lady's head. I've never walked to the border of the Democratic Republic of Congo - or really any border for that matter. I've shared a shower (my first hot real steamy shower in 3 weeks) with a lizard - a cockroach yes but never a lizard. I've never had an audience while swimming. I've never stood on a dirt road with one arm in the air and danced like a crazy person. And i've never never never gone skinny dipping in a crystal clear lake by the light of a full moon at 3am.

But this weekend? Check.

(For the record, the audience was not during the skinny dipping portion of the swimming experience. That part was during the day, fully covered in a modest one piece bathing suite. Promise. Being a free porn star is not a life goal.)

I'm loving this living in the moment kind of craziness. It makes long term committment and future plans and BIG DEAL life goals a little difficult (can you really accept a cow from a stranger if you don't know where you'll be or who you'll be in 3 weeks?)

But it's so fun and i highly recommend it. Release your inhibitions. Make a life goal list and then start crossing them off. Not all of them have to be huge 'open a school in africa' kind of things. Just a list of things to do that would make your life deeper, more fun, and more colorful.

And then blog about them, and laugh about them, and lay awake at night dreaming about them.

Blessings for your life goal attainments,

Shai

This is my latest shower companion...

He came in through the open window and bungee jumped into my shower bucket. He forgot the bungee wasn't attached and hastily swam to solid ground . Crazy African critters have no respect for privacy!

cow kidney and african karaoke

2010-07-23T02:34:00.000-07:00

Oh my gosh this week is one for the books!

First of all, life is flying bye. I've stopped using my homemade countdown calendar because it was making me too anxious. I have a million things to do and it just seems impossible to get them all done.I've been here three weeks and i'm almost to the down hill side.

Second of all, I have friends! And they want to hang out with me. And they take me on adventures. and make me laugh hysterically.

Third of all, i've learned that Africa is a gift. All her problems and ineffeciencies and dirt and craziness is a gift. A gift for me to learn patience. A gift for me to provide service. A gift for me to learn gratitude for what I have. A gift for me to tap into that celestial love that flows directly into you when you really get to know the heart of these people. And a gift for me to relax and release and just follow the process.

My favorite parts of this week:

Sunday - two different men offered my host family cows to marry me. Flattering. Thanks guys.
Monday - a moto driver that dropped me off realized that i was lost, let me walk for a good 5 min
and then came and picked me up and took me where i needed. It was sooo nice.
Tuesdsay - meeting with the guy in charge of women's education for all of Rwanda. It was like my research paper of the last 6 months came to life right before my very eyes. I was on the edge of my seat listening to all the work that he's trying to do here. I love male gender activists and think the world needs more of them.
Wednesday - my friend decided to cook for me. He lives a little bit in the ghetto in this weird compound where everyone shares a pee-hole and a water bucket. His neighbors find me hysterical and like to play with my hair. So Godfrey (that's right, his name is Godfrey) decided to cook me something he learned from his American friends while serving his LDS mission. And we invited the neighbors from the compound to come to our little picnic. It was a picnic only becuase the compound doesn't have furniture. And he cooked all of these things on an old coleman stove on the floor of his green carpeted apartement. So we had spagetti and some kind of sauce. And advocato and banana of course. There was some kind of gooey meat in the sauce but I didn't want to know. I didn't want to vomit. It was only later I was brave enough to ask. And that's right, cow kidney. Yup.
Thursday - oh my my. First of all I ate a hamburger. it cost me 6000 RWF (which is like $10) but I splurged and went for it. Thats only becuase of a day spent at a coffee shop becuase the internet connection at the director's house blew up. But to really compliment the perfectness of this day was African karaoke. I was excited for this plan becuase i LOVED Japaneese kareoke. It's just so great. But i was so unprepared for African's style. The genius part is - no one sings. and it's not an open mic at all. Its an auditioned for, hired for, prepared and rehereased and planned for, lip sync. We're talking costumes, moves, glitter - the works. And these people have moves. And i laughed my freaking head off. Which i think was a little offensive to those performing and those watching who take this sort of thing very seriously. Becuase African lip syncing is very very serious.

I have a video if i can freaking figure out how to load it.

and now...it's friday. I'm going to a town on the border of Congo and Rwanda. I have no idea where we're sleeping but i'm pretty sure it's in a hostel with bunk beds. and i'm taking Godfrey, my host sister Annah (who's never been there), 2 other white chicks, and a few more Africans that i don't know yet. And we're going to swim in a methane infested fault line lake that all the locals think have a sea monster in it. And we're takign a 3 hour bus ride to get there. And we're going to try to cross the border into Congo just to say we've done it. Except that it's believed to house rwandan rebels there. So we will see.

A totlaly great week in Africa.

Blessings,

Shai

Shiny new lips

2010-07-20T00:50:00.000-07:00

My dear sweet friends in the Green Hills Ward Young Womens group assembled care packages for the young women of the church here. But that's not all, Molly Overmyer's zeal for a cause, recruited several girls from her to school to assemble hundreds of tubs of lip gloss and nail polish!

So I shared the wealth and love.

And the Akilah girls were sooo happy. They loved the sparkle. The brands. The shine. But most of all they loved that someone their age, half way accross the world, cared enough to send them love in a suitcase.

And they all went to a big party that weekend and told me about how beautiful they looked with their shiny new lips.

(But we know the truth. They are beautiful becuase of their shining souls and hearts) Gosh I love these girls!

Blessings,

Shai

more photos coming up...

2010-07-19T23:42:00.000-07:00

but first my horoscope from the Ugandan paper that my host brother shares with me every night.

"Today it is likely you will be attracted to those who come from different backgrounds from yourself. You are also likely to be energetically chasing new goals and wanting to make fresh starts. you will be more adventurous than you have been for a while. "

Those dang Ugandan psychics know everything! It's all so true. Black men are hot. Rwanda is an adventure. And my life is one big goal chasing experience.

This weekend we have planed a trip to a city I can never remember the name of. It's on the border of Congo and Rwanda. There's a big lake called Kivu. I'm hoping to accomplish one life goal there but i'm afraid i'll get deported...we shall see.

Meanwhile - PHOTOS!!!

Our School:

Will try to do more photos this afternoon. Love you all!

Blessings!

shai

ahhh...inspiration

2010-07-19T10:46:00.000-07:00

Well week 3 has begun. I'll describe the weekend in details tommorrow when it's not dark and i'm not about to jump on the motorcycle of a stranger and travel for 3o minutes with no street lights. The later it gets the more ominous the darkness and the stranger ness is.

Until then, Monique shared with me the most beautiful poem that seems to send the message of Africa. And I wanted to send that message to you.

It's called The Journey by Mary Oliver

One day, you finally knew
what you had to do and began
though the voices around
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
but you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Blessings,

Shai

i took a shower with someone last night...

2010-07-15T23:42:00.000-07:00

well really i used a cup and a bucket which is not exactly a shower shower. and it wasn't really some one as it was something..and he scared me to death!!! because he was chasing me around the bathroom! and i was squeeling like a little girl.

My family thought it was hysterical how hysterical I was. Only because this little dude was seriously aggresive!

Here's how it went down.

So a bucket shower consists of a deep bucket, a shallowbucket, the shower basin and a cup. And my family fortunately has a drain so you can dump the water down it. The drain basin is about 3 inches deep but there's no curtain or really seperation from this would be shower and the rest of the bathroom. My procedure is to stand in the shower drain and splash from bucket and use my wet wipes. I call this part: Wet wipe phase 1. That's the shower part.

You have to save your feet for last becuase they are soooo dirty. if you washed your feet first, then your water would get all dirty and you would basically just be smearing mud all over. The feet washing is it's own step. I call it Wet wipe phase 2.

Moving on to the Hair Wash step, you step out of the shower drain, pour some water into the shallow bucket to wash your hair. I usually just dip my head in and use the cup to make sure my hair's all wet. Then i shampoo over the shower basin so i don't get soap in my clean water. After i'm as lathered and clean is is possible in Africa, i use the cup and the shallow bucket to rinse my hair. It's a slow process but i'm getting pretty good at it.

So this little bugger attack begain as I was in round one. At first i was standing in the basin, using my cup and my bucket and he was just walking around the bathroom floor. So for Wet Wipe phase 1 and 2 i was just keeping my eye on him. And he was circleing the room like i was a criminal on trial. Back and forth in parallell lines slowly getting closer to the shower area. I decided since i was being interrogated by this enormous thing, this time i would just wash my hair from within the shower basin. So i bent over to stick my head in the bucket. After my hair was totally submerged in the water, i looked up to grab my shampoo. It was like a face off. He looked at me. I looked at him. We both wondered what was going to happen next. And the next thing i knew, he was charging me! Running straight for the shower basin at full throttle. I did the only logical thing a poor naked white girl could do in africa while being charged by a mammoth sized creature. I flung my head back, screamed, and ran to the other side of the bathroom as the bugger cannon balled into the shower basin.

From the other side of the all too thin bathroom door, i could hear my host family shuffling around. I wondered if they would try to come through the unlockable door to make sure i was still alive. And that thought panicked me even more.

And so i forced myself to re-enter the scene of the almost fatal attack and watched as the little bugger struggled to remove himself from his unintended prison. He was too big to crawl down the drain. He was too stubby to climb out of the basin. Although, when he stood on his hind legs at the edge of the basin, he could almost reach the top. So I grabbed a bucket, and placed it on top of my now captured former attacker. And proceeded to wash my hair over the shower drain. The soap and water, and even the bucket, didn't phase this thing. he somehow crawled out from under the bucket and continuted his frantic laps around the shower basin.

What else could i do? I grabbed my camera. ( I did get dressed first before entering the living room - just so you know.)

He was fortunately not still in the shower this morning.

I believe he is the bigest cockroach I've ever seen.

Blessings!

Shai

My first photo upload attempt...

2010-07-14T01:34:00.000-07:00

The view from the school. Beautiful Rwanda!

Well! It seems that's all my internet connection wanted to do right now. It keeps timing out. But it's a start. At least now you get to see what i get to see every day. The name of our area is Kibagabaga. (CHI bah gah bah gah).

Blessings!

Shai

week 2 and counting on a more positive note

2010-07-13T01:56:00.000-07:00

ok. well yesterday was a little difficult! but i'm alive and well and better. I'm still waiting for teachers to acually let me do my work - which is why i actually have free time to write - but whatever. My vacation, their loss.

Let me describe some cool things that have happened so far:

FOOD. Yesterday i ate rabbit for the first time. It was surprisingly delicious. Yumm! Sunday, i made chopatis for our world cup party. For those of you that came to my birthday, this might sound familiar! I was like a pro since i've had practice. But it was fun kneeling over the fire with my host mom and stoking the coals and grilling our flat bread right on the fire. I've had matoki which is boiled banana - also awesome-, mush banana, deep fried banana, and grilled banana. We eat lots of rice and sauce. Sauce made from peanuts. sauce made from mushed peas. sauce made from old chicken bone broth. And the cabbage...oh man the cabbage. It's like the most delicious thing ever. and then you add the greens and you've never pooped so good in your entire life!

KANATAPE. Have i talked about this before? It's where the students and teachers circle the chairs and talk about where we are. Then we do these exercises that cause us to think, own our experience, and then to share it with the community. Today was about recognizing our ability. We each had to write our top 3 best qualities on a card. Then we put the cards in a bucket. Monique, the director, read off the qualities and we had to guess who they belonged to. It was fun to watch the girls complement each other. I guess it's just not part of the culture. After we guessed everyone, the cards were passed back to us and we had to proudly say I am Shai. and I am passionate, energetic, and adventurous. And then every one clapped. It was so powerful to see these girls own their own powerfulness. One girl said one of her best qualities is that she's big. and she said it with a head held high. I am big. and it's awesome. Rock on sweet sister!

FAITH. Literally and spiritually. Spiritually, i've sort of already mentioned. The nightly prayers with my host mom really take me down a notch. You should hear they way she addresses God. Just the change in her voice, the humility, and the debth of the love, it's so overwhelming! How? How do these people go every day with what they do, and still bow down and night so full of gratitue for living. It takes my breath away.

And then Faith the person. I met her yesterday when i went to dinner with a girl from Vanderbilt who is also doing work here this summer. Faith is my friends host mom. She lives in a HUGE house. Not because she's rich or pretentious but because she's filled it with children she has adopted. She's at 10 so far. All under the age of 10. And you should here these children sing. Last night they sang a song about following Jesus. I recorded a verse. I'll try to find a way to post it on here. And i asked Faith how she came to this life and this calling. She said she herself was rescued as an orphan after the first genocide of rwanda. She owes her life to the goodness of others. And when she was 20 and leaving university, she found a baby in the dumpster. She knew it was her calling to care for the child. That child didn't live more than 2 weeks but Faith knew she now had a responsibility to care for those that can not care for themselves. Faith doesn't run an orphanage. She adopted them. They are her children. And as if this amazing kindness to this crazy planet wasn't enough...yesterday my shoes gave me blisters. By the time i got to Faith's house, i was struggling to walk. Faith pulls out two pairs of shoes and just gave them to me. Just GAVE them to me. Like it was nothing. She's raising 10 kids and she gave me 2 pairs of shoes! She wouldn't take payment and only wanted a hug. And for me to call her Auntie becuase we are family now too.

ANA & RUTH. Since we're talking about amazing people, i have to mention my sweet host sister Ana and my host mom Ruth. These women work so hard. They are not revolutionary feminists. They don't refuse to cary water or scrub clothes or cook dinner. They do all of those things with outcomplaining. But they ARE revolutionizing women because they are educted, literate, God fearing women who want better for their daughter. They are the generation that will tip the tide for the African woman. They will not settle for their girl children to be kept out of school. They are not bucking the system in a joan of arch way - they just go about their daily lives expecting better for the future. And it is their hope that will make this work. Their dilligence to scrub floors every day knowing that their daughters are going to change the world. And sweet Ana is only 21 years old. She sneaks in every day to do my laundry even though i try to hide it from her. And we pinky promised to be sisters for life. So now it's official.

Sunday their was a bomb in Uganda. 65 people were killed at a club watching the world cup. Uganda is the country just north of here. There are threats on Barundi, the country just south of here. I'll admit - i'm a little freaked out. One of the teacher's sister was there at the club but she managed to get out alive. She's terrified and tramatized but she's alive.

My host family assured me that here in Rwanda we are safe. The security is better than any country in East Africa. We will be protected. Please pray for those that have been effected by that terrible act of terrorism in Uganda and for our continued safety here in this country.

Only 35 more days!

Shai

week 2 and counting

2010-07-12T08:00:00.000-07:00

wow! Africa is kicking my white muzungo butt! Seriously!

Today is Monday. It's 5pm. And i'm contemplating all the reprocussions of coming home early...which is so dissapointing to myself.

This has by far been the most difficult transition of my life. Not only the living situation, the food, the money, the staring, the transportation, and the people but the pace of work... It's just all so different! I've started to adjust to all the physical aspects of my life choice to live in Africa among the people for the next six weeks. I've even found a way to comfortablly sleep with no pillow. And the bucket shower is not so bad because my sister had the genius idea to send me with wet wipes.

But the work! the work is making me crazy! and not the Rwandans. It's the Americans in Rwanda that make me crazy. Maybe it's becuase i'm the newest staff member - if i'm even considered staff - maybe becuase i'm not staff at all - but seriously! I just wish they would get their expectations and priorities and desires straight, communicated, clarified. AHHHHHHH!!!!

On a better note.

I went to church yesterday. Oh how i love the sweet spirit of God. I love that i can go to a church on the other side of the world and feel home. I love that the opening prayer was a young man praying - more like pleading - with God to please bring the Gospel into their hearts. Please Lord, Please just help us understand how to be better people. It was the most sincere and beautiful prayer. And i was so overcome with love for these wonderful faithful people just doing their best to try to get by. Walking 65 minutes just to get to church. My family took 45 minutes 2 bus rides and at least a half mile walk up the road. And these people don't just wear their every day skirts to church. They bust out their finest. When i asked my family about that - they looked shocked. They said "don't you? i mean it IS church shai!" so sweet!

We studied the Psalms in sunday school. One that stood out to me was Psalms 116:12 "What shall i render unto the Lord for all his benefits towards me?" I feel that when i'm surrounding by God's love, and Sprit and goodness. What have i done to deserve such a beautiful experience? What could i ever do for God to show how grateful I am to have witnessed that sweet moment?

And the message came in the closing hymn. And it struck a painful chorde with me then as it does writing it right now ( how quickly I forget and slip into selfishness!). The song has emotional significance to me anyway becuaes it's always God's hymn of reminder that sneaks up on me when i'm questioning my life.

It may not be on a mountaint height
or over the stormy sea
it may not be at the battle's front
my Lord will have need of me.

But if by a still small voice he calls
to path that i do not know
i'll answer dear Lord with my hand in thine
I'll go where you want me to go.

Perhaps today there are loving words
which jesus woudl have me speak;
There may be now in the paths of sin
Some wand'rer whom i should seek.

O Savior, if thou wilt be my guide
Tho dark and rugged the way,
My voice shall echo the message sweet
I'll say what you want me to say.

And this is the doozy....

There's surely somewhere a lowly place
in earth's harvest field so wide
where i may labor through life's short day
for Jesus the crucified.

So trusting my all to thy tender care
and knowing thou lovest me,
i'll do they will with a heart sincere
I'll be what you want me to be.

I'll go where you want me to go, dear Lord, over mountain or plain or sea. I'll say what you want me to say dear Lord; I'll be what you want me to be.

Blessings,

Shai

(this is not exactly the posts i expected to be writing! But it's where i'm at at this moment and it's honest. I'm so imperfect and often overwhelmed by my own imperfections. But maybe you can be better than me by seeing how retarded i am - and that, in fact, is the point!)

internet and neighborhood milk and other amazing discoveries

2010-07-08T23:56:00.000-07:00

2 things i'm super grateful for today!

We FINALLY have internet at the school. Which makes me so excited. I was starting to feel like I was in a developing country or something!

It's been kind of a long week. I've discovered that i live kind of in the boonies. By the airport. Which i actually find hilarious since i live right by the airport in the Nashville. It must be some sort of universal subconscious calling or something. Like i can't get to far away from being able to get far away when ever i need or want to. (or some silly boy offers me a free plane ticket to somewhere). This morning i learned that i live right next to the compound where the former president lived. Evidentally his plane was shot down right over his compound, which was the catalyst for the whole genocide thing. Excellent. A little creepy but excellent. Why wouldn't i pick that neighborhood to live in? Of course! There are not really addresses here so i can't give you an exact location. But if you're a fan of google earth, you can search Kanombe. That's the name of my neighborhood. Aparently it's so far out of the city that the taxi drivers make a face everytime i ask for a ride there.

Ahhh...the taxis. Another brilliant discovery. There are normal taxies, well take normal very loosely but at least they are cars. These are rarely used by locals unless you're hauling luggage, old people, or rich people. Since very few people fit those categories (except us whiteys) very few people use them from what i can tell. Most locals take moto taxies. Picture hopping on the back of a stranger's motorcycle (who happens to be 15) and strapping on a helment that has been on 50 other strangers' heads already, weaving in and out of traffic, running red lights, and being so close to cars that you can shake hands with the driver. yesterday i was actually clipped by another moto taxi. Both my driver and me kind of turned around shocked! THe other driver, in his best english, said oh muzungo, i sooo sorry! The max moto ride should cost around 1000 rwanda franc which equates to a little less than $2. But since i'm so obviously muzungo (westerner) i've paid up to 2500 rwandan franc which is still only $4.50. But i love them! All the other teachers says buhoro buhoro (slowly slowly!) but i never say it. I don't know how to say faster faster yet but i have a feeling that i don't really need to know.

Another discovery has been kinyarwandan, the local language. It's totally not french anymore. The country has basically switched from french to english only and the local language. Most educated people who are adults speak french but they don't like to anymore becuase the young students are now being taught in english. Our students speak pretty well but struggle a little with diction so it can be hard to understand. I'm grateful for french becuase i know if english doesn't work, i can still try french. if that doesn't work than i laugh and shrug my shoulders and say muzungo. and they laugh. I'm learning though...hopefully i can get enough to understand some things. and stop getting ripped off by the motos!

And my final discovery, being a visitor in a local family is overwhelming! They call me The Visitor. They carry my stuff, polish my shoes, and sneak in and make my bed every day. It's so humbling becuase these people have so little. The sister actually hand washed my clothes. I'm so grateful and yet feel so selfish and imperialistic. and then their's the milk...every day they serve me fresh from a cow milk. Not grocery store pasturized fresh. like milked that morning from the neighborhood cow milk. and then boiled steaming hot and served with two scoops of pure cane sugar. Yum yum!

It has been a hard week - adjusting to bucket showers, poverty, and muzungo-ness. It's so tempting to move in with the american girls who go shopping everynight, eat at the italian resturant in the city, and live as close to american life as possible. I'm seriously considering it. I'm not sure my wet wipes will last me through the next 40 days. but for the short term, as long as i feel safe, i'm going to try to stick it out.

I might cheat and buy a pillow though...:)

Love you all!

your favorite muzungo
Shai

PS i just gave the girls all the chapstick from Molly's sorority. They LOVE LOVE LOVE it. I'll try to post pictures next round.

Oh PS2. I'm finally on skype. My user name is shairas. Send me messages if you can!

bien venue en afrique!

2010-07-06T07:00:00.000-07:00

Well I've officially arrived in Africa! the weather is beautiful. the sun is shinning. and their is red dirt everywhere!!!

my flight took forever! we stopped in Rome on the way to Ethiopia and then we stopped in uganda on the way to Rwanda. both stops added an extra hour to the trip. i ended up landing in Rwanda around 4:00 am this morning. and get this! they made me check my carry-on bag with all of the computers - charged me $60s to do it - and then lost it! So the bag with all of the computers and and gifts and everything is missing. but about 15 other people on my flight lost their bags too so I'm hoping it was just a fluke and not a corruption thing. when i told the airline in Rwanda what was in my bag he yelled at me and said how could you have let that out of your sight! but what could i have done? it's awesome being so obviously not local because you're a walking target!

Joshua and ruth opar living on this old dirt road with a really nice house. it's kind of far from the city. but they received me with orange jucie and fanta (fanta is the generic word for soda - kind of like i want a coke, what kind? oh sprite.) when our taxi took us down the old road little children came out to wave. when they saw this tall white girl sitting in the back seat they started laughing and chasing the taxi. when i got out the all stopped and stared at me. i smiled and waved and said hi. They didn't respond so i tried french. then they started laughing and looking at each other. at least no one ran up and pulled my hair like they did in japan. ha! but it was pretty cute.

The family I'm staying with is Joshua and Ruth. Joshua is the new bishop of the church here. His wife Ruth and sister Ana live there. Ana is a student in - get this - hospitality management at the university here. Hopefully I can get her help with my school. Joshua is a teacher in elementary school but is taking night classes at the university in education administration. (same as me! interesting!) Hopefully they like soccer so we can watch the match tonight.

i came into town to buy a phone and get some money and shampoo. the school has sent a friend to help me. her name is Irene and she's so nice. we are just kind of wandering around town now and decided to stop and email.

hopefully i'll have more internet time tomorrow at the school. If i can find my way there! I think i have to take a bus, and then a taxi, and then walk a mile or so. It's kind of far. but that means exercise so that's exciting!

so far so good. a little overwhelming. but things are good. I know when i see our school it will all feel more real and not just a red dirt dream.

love you all,

shai

Standing as a witness...

2010-06-07T15:56:00.000-07:00

So here's the deal.

I'm super sensitive to violence. I mean super super sensitive. Seeing it. Hearing it. Reading it. It all makes me physically sick to my stomach. I can't even watch anime with out having nightmares. It's a little silly.

Something about tapping into the psyche of God as a missionary and being expanded beyond my normal capacity to love and caring more about the people i was serving than i ever believed possible. After reaching that weird mother-like Christ-like love for strangers on the street, it just started freaking me out to think of other people committing acts of violence against them.

And so returning from France means no more anime. No more Borne identity. Weird.

And now, i'm about to go live in a country that has been plagued by some of the worst violence in the history of humanity.

I decided before I go to Rwanda, i need to be fully aware of all that happened there. Just so i know i'm going with my eyes wide open. So i started reading my birthday book from Sarah called "As we forgive." The author said that you have to really grasp the dept of the autrocities to really get the power of reconcilliation that is happening there. And so the author, goes into detail about all these horrible things - only in the context to fully explain the gift of forgivness that has come to these people.

So i start reading. And the nightmares start coming.

Friday, I dreamed about a gang beating in my driveway. And i was stuck in my house and did nothing. I called the police and they said stay in your house and don't get involved. I tried to hide but then all my doors turned to glass and i had to watch. It was horrible. It was horrible becuase i was so helpless. and so scared!

Saturday, I dreamed i was trapped in a camp. At first it was fine and I made friends. But then everyone that was my friend got hurt. And the camp leaders made me watch terrible things happening to everyone that had talked to me. And i tried to run and I got caught. They set me in the middle of the villiage and wouldn't let me run but i was too scared to talk to anyone because i didn't want them to get hurt. And i woke up paniced about what influence was doing to people.

And so Sunday, i was worried about my ability to handle all of this information in my body. And wondering if i will be able to deal with being in Rwanda and hearing the stories first hand and seeing the pain caused by all of this.

Clearly my psyche can not handle the idea of violence. Either becuase i'm afraid, or because i'm crazy, or becuase my soul is sending me a message. But what is the message? What do I do with all of this?

And last night it hit me. I can't DO anything. The violence is done. I can't go back and change what has happened.

But I can be a witness. Half the problem was not knowing exactly what was happening. Denying that humans could actually do something like that to their neighbors. Thinking that these horrible crimes were reserved for Nazis and our great-grandparents generation of the uninlightened.

But I can stand up in full awareness of the terrible things that have happened to humanity, my brothers and sisters. And my full witness, not sugar coated, not glazed over, full open and accepted...then maybe, maybe it won't happen again.

And so my pyche is making me go through this to see if i will shy away from this, to see if i will let my fear overpower my love. To see if i will be more reserved, more careful with my trust out of selfish self preservation.

But once you've tapped into the psyche of God, the love of humanity, it's hard to go back from that.

But i still don't have to watch anime!

The 12 Adventures

2010-04-08T15:30:00.000-07:00

Well here we are again. The 3 readers and me.

I dream about blogging. I think about blogging. I even yearn for blogging. And yet I do it not. A symptom of my crack addicted, sleep depraved, busy go go go lifestyle? Perhaps. A debasing of my creative ablility? Likely. Not having a worthy blogable topic?

NOOOOO!!!

There are many things to which i would love to dedicate an entire day to document. I've decided that if my posterity wants a journal, or a record, (assuming i have posterity of course) they must dig up an archaic computer, log into hishai.blogspot.com or onesundancer.blogspot.com, and read read read.

Although admittedly, there is not much to read here. Yet...

I have made a goal. I know a goal. How origional. Especially coming from me. I'm a little over the top with the whole goal thing. But my goal, my resolution for the year is to process a fear every month while having an adventure. And i noticed today, in explaining this to someone, so far they have all been related to freeing myself from Judgement Weight.

You know that Weight we willing strap on to our self esteems. That burden. Our paralisys. And our secret indulgence for accepting inaction. I would say largely, I am not obese in Judgement Weight. I am mostly healthy, active, and nutritious. But there are those few nastly little pounds that my subconscious just doesn't want to let go of yet.

And so, The Goals.

I don't know them all yet but I will share the three (and 1/2) that i've done.

January. Sing.
Powerfully and with full stance in front of a group of professional musicians and still feel good about myself when i'm done. Now, i've sang in church before. Even been a guest singer at other churches. I know i can sing. But can i sing sing. You know like, well? But i have been scared to test the waters becuase of the 50 professional musicians that i go to church with who can, you know, sing sing. No one was asking me to sing. No one thought of me as a singer. No one was praising me for my singing talent. Subconscious translation = I must not be a good singer therefore I can not sing in church.

I'm done with that nonesense. Sang in church in January. High notes. High heels. And i nailed it! and ya know what, I'm a singer. And i think of me as a singer. And i praise me for singing. And if i want to sing, i don't have to wait to be asked, i can volunteer for heaven's sakes. Yeesh!

2 pounds, gone.

February. Brunette.
I've always had blonde hair. Since i can remember. Except for that one mousey brown weird muddy month on the mission. But that doesn't count. And i like myself blonde. I feel like a blonde. I'm a confident blonde. And people like me blonde. But then i started to wonder...what if i'm brunette? will people still like me? Will life look different? Will my confidence change with my hair color? This may sound silly but these fears are real! (but very silly!)

I'm done with that nonsense. Got brown hair in February. Dark Brown. And i worked it. And ya know what? I'm still me and I'm still okay with that.

2 pounds, gone!

March. Skin.
So i have this weird fear of public nakedness. It freaks me out. I don't like being naked in all my glory. I can naked alone - although that admitedly took work. And so my february girlfriend trip, i couldn't change in the hotel. Shared dressing rooms? nuh uh. not me. I mean, these are my best friends. What am i afraid of? And the locker room at the Y? No way. Will they be looking at my body? Are my nipples too big? Do they have a weird belly button like me? Will they see my cellulite? Will everyone be judging me? And not just my body but the fact that i'm publicly naked?

What is this nonsense? What's the big deal? My body is my body. And i love it. Who cares!!! And so, I walked around naked in the locker room. I sat in the steam room. And i dried out my bathing suit. All while naked. My parents might not be proud. But I fully appreciate this step.

This one get's three pounds.

April. Dun du Dun Dun.
This one is in the works. I thought I would get to do it today but I ran out of time. I'm hoping lunch break tommorrow. And then I'll go public. If not for your reading, for my own validation.

If you have suggestions for adventures, i'm game! But i'm having to dig deep to find the Judgement Weight that I really am ready to loose. I'm not quite to the head shaving phase yet but it came up in conversation today...maybe by November....

Shai

ahhh the sweet smell of reunion

2009-08-10T20:59:00.000-07:00

And so it is. It has officially been 8 months since the promised blog connection has been tapped. I humbly offer the excuse of creative lacking. Not the absence of creativity ( I would write brilliant blog posts on the toilet all the time) but the inablilty to convert thought to actual uttered words. I was so lost in the connundrum of conflicting feelings - overabundance of joy and more love for other peoples' kids than humanly possible and the floating sensation of nothingness that comes with a wide open blank slate future - that I couldn't quite manage to blog. to write. to put the swiriling bubbles of bathroom briliance into legitimate thought.

I know I know. I promised this blog would be the way to stay up to date on the goingson of the shaiter. but i'm sure the 4 followers of this blog have managed to survive.

But - deep breath. The time has come. The shift has happened. The transition. The great exodus. The change. And although it sounds so very radomly much like menopose in the descriptions i have chosen to use, i'm refering to the desire to write. and now, like home baked bread, coffee shops, book stores, rain, and chocolate. the sweet smell of reunion to me and my blog is wafting around my new little cottage house. And it's making me hungry.

Other than the impossible task of recounting the last 8 months, here is an update of the past 3 days.

Saturday: Moving day. Thanks to my packing extraordinare mom, I was totally packed and ready to go first thing. there were few last minute shoving of things into boxes and "what about this? Do you need your bed?" kind of talk. And thanks to my jig saw puzzle mover of a dad, everything fit perfectly. The only hang up was the terrible business practices of southern uhaul owners who take the liberty of borrowing a previously reserved lone trailer with out telling me. Yet another tactic of opposition to bring me down.

The YSAs totally deliverd and showed up for me. Helped me move in in 30 mintues flat. Josh gave me an A+ move in. And that's somethin'.

Then an apartment party with strawberry daquiris (how the hell do you spell that?), mafia, dancing, volleyball and a nice fully clothed sneaky swim in the local pool. Talk about a fun time.

Sunday: A nice sunshiny morning waking up in my new room. Yummmmy. A tip off about church choir. An a capella performance that actually sounded good. Writing notes to various fellas during sacrement. All of which were borderline hilarious. A sunday school teacher that was incredible! we're talking off the charts amazing. The coolest bishop in the world. President Arnold exclueded - he's a branch president. he's cool becuase he says things like hotties and hook up and guys are retarded. i'm always a fan of anyone that sees life my way. :) And then a small turned enormous game night. That was top of the line. Top-Of-The-Line.

Monday: a morning run around my little cottage-y neighborhood. A interview turned success story. (can I just get a wahoo!!!) Lunch with the roomy. wandering around a beautiful campus. nap time. grooving to an amazing band called sam & Ruby. Soooooo good. FHE. Driving home with the girls. The most amazing trifecta ever! holla at the ladies.

and now you're up to date. And better off knowing. :)

Now that we are reunited, and the sweet smelling reunion is in the air, the possibilities are endless and oh so hopeful!

Until the writing mood strikes again...

pesky little personal pep talks

2008-12-21T19:13:00.000-08:00

I always said, when life get's to comfortable, it's time to move.

And so November 22nd, i loaded a trailer. life was comfortable. I was comfotable. I loved my little french cafe apartement. I easily knew my way to church, taco bell, and payless. I had a favorite mountain spot. I knew the bus route, when the grocery store got new apples, where the best soup is served on tuesdays. I had my own little comfort zone. My desk job. My favorite gas station.

and i hate that while secretly loving it. I hated how average i was feeling, how settled everything had become. While secretly enjoying the simplicity of my little world.

And so God threw a metephorical brick and said "hey you there...get a move on it. You want growth, I'll give you something to shake it up a bit!"

And so off i went on an adventure.

And i've noticed consciously - it is soooo uncomfortable for me. And well...I'm loving it! I'm waking up. It's like the numness is wearing off. it's like someone spilled comfortable all over my favorite dress and now i'm scrubbing it off with ultra strong quicker picker upper.

and i find in all this stretching very uncomfortable.

Like singing a solo at the church christmas party. Several solos. That are really high. under a spot light. in a tight hot red sweater.

Or going to a single adult dance. With my parents. And there was a boy table. and a girl table. and an old people table. and i didn't know...do i brave the boy table...do i make friends with the girl table...do i sit with my parents...aaahhhh...this is akward.

A brief tangent to mention how great this experience was. My table was mom, dad (i caved), honey a middle aged mother of five who told us her life story - which i loved!, billy jo - who wore a name tag that said phat pink elephant, dee ann - a woman with nice bangs and a very shy smile, and her 17 year old daughter Christina.

Honey is bound and determined to find my soul mate. She swears he's in Tennesee. She knows every eligible guy in our stake. Which is a lot to say since it covers Kentucky, Illinois, and West Tennesee. Billy Jo, is at least 70, and swears that Bruce R McKonkie promised him 7 wives in the millenium. I was so preocupied with these two brilliant characters that i didn't get to know DeeAnn and Christan. They said they were too bashful to dance.

And the stake president, a young 80's music lover, my parents and me, stole the show dancing in front of everyone.

And then the 5k push on the tread mill. I cut 7 minutes off my time! SEVEN minutes!

and something i've noticed in all of these stretching situations - my self talk. I've become a constant self propeller. I have consciously noticed what i'm saying to myself. and I'm surprised. i've intentionally changed what i say to myself in my head. And in my panic moments in church bathroom stalls (which has happened more than ever in my life!) i'm surprised at what i'm saying. its actually good. I'm actually doing great at my personal pep talks. and im proud of myself!

and it's made all the difference.

And i'm stretching. and it's akward. and a little uncomfortable. but i'm owning it.

dreaming of the pas de deux

2008-12-17T21:43:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, my family took an adventurous little road trip down back roads and one way streets, through construction, and deer crossings, to partake in a family tradition. The Nutcracker.

And yes...even in this back country of West Tennessee you can find ballet. And dang good ballet too!

And there were these two amazing - and I mean AMAZING - routines...are they called routines in ballet? or is that just cheerleading? Two great dances both pas de deux.

When Clara meets the Snow Queen and King and then the Sugar Plum Fairy. Oh my gosh...soooo moving! It's like the Snow King and the Cavalier just orbit around their princesses. Like her every move was his reason for being. Her lean left was his lean left. He was her support, her strenght, her spotlight, her enhancement, her focus. With out him, she is beautiful. But she can't possibly get as high or as far. With out her, he is amazing. But he doesn't seem so full of purpose.

and thus the pas de deux.

I just learned the name of pas de deux this summer on so you think you can dance. See video link below...

ttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7kM_64jY42Q

Best video i could find. They are kind of floating like ghosts...

ANYWAY...

Pas de deux. Step for Two or Not of Two. I think the official term in a ballet means step for two but the french translation could be not of two. They both fit.

It's litterally a joining of two dancers in a dance created specifically for them. A movement for two as one. Like the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier. He makes her Shine. She makes him Beautiful.

The dictionary calls it a close realtionship between two people as in doing an activiy.

Doesn't that sound like what a realtionship should be?

Pas de deux. A step for two in one dance that is not actually for two. It's for one. Because you are one. You move as one. You act as one. And it was a dance created just for you and your Snow King. and it's moving to watch becuase you are so in sync that it's beautiful. And then Tchaikovsky is constantly serenading your life.

And so I dream...

the secret life of bees

2008-12-04T21:34:00.000-08:00

Today. I feel grumpy.

Someone told me how to create. Someone told me i can't create my way. and that makes me grumpy.

And my "too-many-richard-geer-movies" fairy tale world is suddenly not so shiney. And that is ok. It just means that this is no skip through the daisey post. and that's ok too.

So. Here i am. Living with my parents. Unemployed. Scramling a little. Trying to find my balance. I keep reminding myself it's the right thing. It's just the part of the adventure where the road gets a little steep.

and all this i know. sometimes it just doesn't sink.

But there is redemtion in my slightly grumpy pessimistic rantings. Bees.

Sue Monk Kidd has created a remarkably meaningful inspiring straight to the heart of me book called "the secret life of bees". A lost little girl finds joy and serenity in her own feminity and relationship to her divine self.

A few exerpts i found particularly compelling...

"you've been halfway living your life for too long. May was saying that when it's time to die, go ahead and die, and when it's time to live, live. Don't sort-of-mabye live, but live like you've gone all out, like you're not afraid."

"Every person on the face of the earth makes mistakes...every last one. We're all so human...There is nothing perfect. There is only life."

"drifting of to sleep, i thought of her. How nobady is perfect. How you just have to close yoru eyes and breathe out and let the puzzle of the human heart be what it is."

"our Lady is not some magical being out there somewhere, like a fairy godmother. She's not the statue in the parlor. She's something inside of you....You have to find a mohter inside yourself. We all do. Even if we already havea mother, we still have to find this part of ourselves inside...When you are unsure of yourself...when you start pulling back into doubt and small living, she's the one inside saying "get up from there and live like the glorious girl you are. She's the power inside you, you understand."

"and when you get down to it, that's the only purpose grand enough for a human life. Not just to love but to persist in love."

and even though i'm not exactly where mama august preaches, i'm progressing. And exactly where i'm at is ok. In the sunny yellow room. With my clothes all in boxes. And no idea how to get to Walmart. And where every road is up hill. And i'm caught up in the drama of someone else's life. and i have no idea what's around the corner and where two months will lead me.

and ya know what? it's ok.

my soul painting

2008-11-20T10:27:00.000-08:00

a soul painting, according to the wise sages of my life, is a visual representation of your soul. an tangible snap shot of the intangible heart, thoughts, desires, hopes, dreams, weaknesses, callings, and everything else.

This is mine. The Sun Dancer. Not my original painting. Or even my title. But it's me just the same. Whatever gifted artist in the unending world of cyberspace created this painting, bless you for your gift. You must have known me.

A sun dancer. Not the light. Not the source of the light. But one who calls in light, radiates it, walks in it. Surrounded by it, she isn't burned by the overwhelming power of the light. She dances in it.

As i irresponsibly and wonderfully leave behind convention, security, stability, and predictability, i hope my true soul, my sun dancing soul, becomes more present on the surface. The cubicle cocoon is breaking. The beautiful claustrophobia of Logan is no longer limiting me. The dysfunctional security of what i wanted is making way for what is really there.

It's time to dance.