where are we now?

Looking through all our thoughts in print, I realized that even though we are not going anywhere far away right now, Africa is still a piece of us that spurs us into action, satisfies our souls and gives us a reality to be ever so grateful for. Recently, the art journal Gia and I spent so much time with, has been "ended". What this means is that Gia did her last page, mailed it to me and began a new art journal for us to share. When it arrived at my house, I placed it in my studio and left it alone for sometime. Yesterday, I journaled in it, placed some mementos inside and closed it with a ribbon. It now resides in a place of honor with my other artwork. In other areas of our lives, Gia continues on with her dance of life. She is putting all her energies into beginning a non profit for foster children. Bless her heart! I am fully immmersed in artwork...doing, inspiring others and more. My newest adventure is art modeling. Love it!
More soon :)
Peace - Hillary

What Africa means to me now...

What Africa means to me now....I have never been on a trip that has affected my life so immensely, in so many ways. Africa is a country I hold close to my heart, still amzaes me today, overwhelms me with emotion. Africa is such mysterious ground for me to tread. And I yearn to go back, to discover more. It is such a huge place to explore, live with and become part of. I have only experienced a fraction of what Africa truly has to give me. And for the meantime, what I have brought home with me will last a lifetime. When I see pictures of Africa, I feel a connection, almost in a territorial sense. I think "I was there." I know what Zambia smells like, what N'shima feels like in my belly and how to say hello. I know how important I am in someone's life when they want to hold my hand and everytime I hug someone now, I think how blessed I am to take such an action for granted. Africa opened my eyes from the inside out. I experienced hunger, the sacredness of money, the value of friendship. I have become slower in my walk, more thoughtful while interacting with others and less to jump to conclusions. How can one trip to another country do this to me? I have no answer for this question. It's just the way things are. I have pondered the whys and how comes. Is it because the African people are different? Was it because I was completely away from my home, completely out of my element? What I do know is that I began changing before I left. I became more open minded, calmer, less judgemental of myself, kinder, more patient, braver. I have journal entries of before my trip that emphasize an internal strength that perplexed me. How does travel do this to someone? I now seek out seasoned travelers. To soak up more of that internal strength, that self confidence that traveling seems to give our souls. And that is how I can truly sum up Africa at this moment in time...my soul is inundated with joy, having absorbed Africa to a fullness, a saturation of smoky haze, bright smiles, human openness and personal courage.-Hillary

Beekeepers...next time

Speaking of Money:
Much to our surprise, money became a concern of ours in Zambia. So much that we did not travel to Northwest territory to visit the beekeepers. While in Livingstone, we started to plan with Kennedy, a very trustworthy guide and friend. The trip would require 3 days travel to and then also to return. Yikes! Just in time alone, we did not have the allowance. Fuel is jaw dropping expensive there too! We thought we had it bad here in US! ha, they are charged 1.50-1.75 a liter. There are almost 4 liters to a gallon. That's $6-8 a gallon! Just in fuel alone, we would be broke! There was also lodging and a car needed. And even knowing all this, Gia was not deterred by any of this. I was cringing after adding it all up and sad because it was something my heart called for. We also felt we owed it to Anita. Some one the last words we shared with her in Florida, before she passed away, were about the beekeepers. What to take with us - a polaroid camera and a wind up shortwave radio as a gift. She also encouraged us to follow our hearts and not listen to hierachy corporate beings telling us no, don't go.

So with Anita's spirit urging us on, it was a good 3 days before we finally came to the disappointing conclusion we could not pull it off with what little time & money we had left and all the other things we wanted to do. I still regret not going and I know that I will end up there someday soon. I know Gia and I are not people that can be told no easily. We question, we research and yes, sometimes we just wing it. Going back to meet the beekeepers is still a goal of mine.And not for The Body Shop, but for me, Gia, Anita. Who knows when it will be. And that's ok too.

-Hillary

A perspective...money

Amazing-Absolutely Wonderful-Incredible: Traveling is something I think everyone should experience. Not just a road trip to the beach. I'm talking down and dirty, overseas, in the bush breakthrough, with language barriers and only the the human connections to get you by! Our trip was raw, organic, point blank, culture in your face stuff. And we loved every minute of it! And after several weeks of saying it was "incredible", here's a better descriptionfor ya!

A Perspective: Money. It is a pulse of life as we know it, yet without money, we are still human. We feel, smell, touch. Without money, we are limited only in a physical nature. Money can be medical help, travel, food, water, phone, electricity, education, Without Money, we still have our imagination, nature, oxygen, speech, walking, talent, love, work ethic. Is there a connection?

When you don't have money, will you work harder? Is our country in a state of apathy because we have too much? What can you live without? Take a moment and imagine yourself without money today. What will you not experience? What would you do today without a job? How will you eat? Drink? What would you be concerned about? Without money, how do you feel? I honestly believe our US culture is stuck in a mode of gimme, gimme and I'm not quite sure how we will ever get out of this. Lately, I picture myself, Dan and the kids in Africa, living a simple life. No bling, no image competition at school, relying on life as we know it to entertain us. Learning that there is nothing in life that we should take for granted. Going out to eat would be a fabulous treat, and wow, a movie! Being outside to play, not n front of the tv. I could go on and on with this...do you get my drift? Is my perspective affecting your own? Good!

-Hillary

Mr. Banda

Lexon Banda. A name we won't forget. More importantly a spirit that we won't forget. Who is Lexon Banda? Mr.Banda?

I bet you would never guess. Mr.Banda was our faithful taxi driver. We had no idea how much we would need to take taxi's for transportation. Angela gave us Mr.Banda's phone number when we arrived. "If you need a ride. If you have to be somewhere at a certain time. You call him. He's reliable. He's honest. And he'll give you a fair price." All true.

Now Mr.Banda was more than just our taxi driver. He "saved" us one night. Well I exaggerated a little bit but lets just say that one of the few times we were nervous about our safety Lexon was there.

We were on the long bus ride back from Livingstone. Normally a 6 hr drive. Mr.Banda was going to meet us at the bus station he dropped us off at 3 days earlier (just like a friend would pick you up on your return) until we changed our plans. We decided to take a different bus because it left earlier in the day and it wouldn't be so hot. We knew that this bus would take us downtown to the city center in the late afternoon. But no worries Banda would meet us.

Well lets just say the bus ride went a little longer than expected. We couldn't get a hold of Banda & we weren't sure if he got our text messages. So we just crossed our fingers. Our bus arrived about 2.5 hrs later and it was getting dark. As we rounded the corner to the bus station we realized that we probably weren't in the best part of town. With our backpacks and white skin we we stood out just a little bit. We definitely looked like we had money. And we weren't really sure of where to go to catch a taxi. We were starting to panic a little bit. I remember looking outside the windows trying to assess the scene. The best route to take to get away from the crowds but not to isolate ourselves. The options looked slim. My heart started to race. Maybe we should have baked in the sun and taken the bus that left later. Oops. Did we make a poor decision based on comfort?

The next thing I know....I see the happiest, jolliest, smiling man waving to me. It's Banda. Lexon Banda to the rescue! We couldn't believe it. As we walked off the bus into the crowd he reached up and grabbed a hold of our arms and pulled us to his taxi & gave us a warm welcome "home." I assumed he got my text so he knew to catch us later. Thank goodness!

Silly me. He didn't get our message. "What message" he checks his phone,"No? No message from you." We couldn't believe it...he waited. He had no idea when our bus would be in. But he would wait. He waited for 2.5 hrs for the two crazy American girls. He WAITED!

Angela was right. Banda is reliable. And he is our friend. We asked ourselves over and over if that would EVER happen here. In our country. Has a taxi driver ever waited 2.5 hrs for you?

So if you find yourself traveling to Zambia...we have a taxi connection for you...Mr.Banda.

This picture was taken at the airport on our way back home. Goodbye Mr.Banda we'll see you next time! Too bad the photo doesn't capture his warm smile...you'll have to trust me on that one.

-gia

Noah...loved this little guy...

Hillary & I spent a lot of time painting and playing with the children outside while we were at the Kondwa center. So we didn't get a lot of time to "bond" with the kids that were in school. Which was probobly a good thing for me. We spent more time with the Kondwa graduates and some curious wanders that wanted to check out the "white girls" painting.

BUT there was this one little guy. His name is Noah. And for some reason I loved this little one. Something about him drew me to him. He wasn't overly outgoing or smiley. He didn't follow me around or fight to hold my hand but he was always there. We would meet eyes and I felt a connection to him. He seemed a bit sad. He seemed like he had survived a lot. Again....none of this I know for sure...it's just what I felt. When we would meet eyes he would smile. That one of a kind amazing and authentic smile. And I felt his warmth.

I wanted a picture with him before I left. I decided to take a self portrait of us and only caught his eyes. Which say a lot. I love this picture. Because it will forever remind me of how I felt when I saw Noah. Ironically right before we took the picture he got smacked around a bit. I think Hillary mentioned early that the kids are pretty aggressive. Survival of the fittest, as they say. So poor little Noah got beat up a bit but still took the picture with me. So you can see some fresh tears in his eyes. He's the boy to my right.

I love you little guy. Thank you for touching my heart.

-gia

Words are symbols twice removed...

I went to Africa with the idea of experiencing the people, the culture, the children and for observation. All of which we did. I just had no idea that when I came home I would become and observer as well. Of our people & our culture. I am still in shock. But it's ok. It's not bad or good, it just is.

When a good friend of mine asked me if I had more adventures to share. I wrote him back and told him that I have been struggling with sharing the stories & writing my thoughts all down. This friend of mine has an incredible way with words and when he wrote me back I felt like he read my heart. So I'm going to steal some of his words and share them with you, in hopes that you will understand how I feel.

"Trips that change a person that much cannot be described. There is a new appreciation of silence and what that communicates. Our wisdom reveals itself when we are reluctant to describe the indescribable. We are happy to let it be. Words are symbols twice removed from the event. Words never really get to the core. This leaves us frustrated in two ways. First, we are unable to relate our experience in a meaningful way to the people we care about. We want them to "get" what we got. But, this can never be and we have to leave it alone. It was for us and our growth. Our loved ones must seek their own experiences and grow from those, not ours. Second, in our effort to explain, we cheapen our experience, we "dumb" it down so as to make it explainable. Again, frustrating. Our experience was HUGE, but describing it makes it small, as if it were relatable and easily passed on. It cannot be passed on. It is yours. Keep it, own it. Let it grow within you for the rest of your life. "

I hope this helps all of you to understand a little bit more of how we feel. With this said....we do want to share stories and pictures because our trip was life changing. And we want to share it with you. It's just hard. And it's especially hard for me. I'm a talker not a writer. So I will do my best to keep the stories coming. Thank you for waiting.

- gia

Thank you and Goodbye - story of a girl off to an orphanage

The past weeks have been a blur of emotion, daily tasks and more. I did not expect such a huge time to need for processing my experiences in Africa, yet it has all been worth it! I have so many pieces of Africa floating inside me, it is hard to choose where to start when I share with others. I usually begin with little nibbles of info because I don't know what is wanted from me. And even sometimes I feel that if I depart from the information, it won't return to me. What a silly notion, yet it is the only way I can describe how I cherish my experience so!

One story that I will and must share with you started a while back. And I had typed it all up intending to send it off and the computer I was using froze! Yikes! So here goes....

We were at Kondwa having a late lunch with Angela and her friend Marianne. An older man was there talking with her when we arrived. He was tall and thin, with white hair and a long white, yellowing beard. He wore a simple white tunic, brown slacks, sandals & a thin white "beanie" on his head. It was a very traditional Muslim way to dress. There was also a younger man with him who I found later to be the one driving. When the older man left the room, Angela explained that he was of the Muslim faith. It is a very popular belief in Lusaka because the Muslim Church will pay you to receive their religion. Monthly stipends, help with food & board.

When he returned to the room, a lovely young girl was with him. She looked to be 8-10 years old. Angela commented how pretty she looked in her dress. "Your best dress on, eh?" It reminded me of a traditional hispanic dress. White cotton with colorful striped, broad collar with lace, fitted waist. Her hair in braids, worn sandals. She waited by the door quietly, almost shyly, happily as the older man discussed something with Angela. He then turned, took the girl's hand and they both left. Angela then told us about them.

The older man was the young girl's grandfather and they had come to say thank you & goodbye. He was taking her to an orphanage today where she will live. The grandfather can no longer afford to take care of her. Angela helped them find the orphanage and the family sees this as a wonderful opportunity for the young girl. “It is a privilege,” Angela says.

Imagine being this girl. Imagine being the adult that takes the child away to a better place. I followed them out and by the time I got to the school yard they were in the car with the younger man, driving away. I wanted to talk with them, say goodbye too. I went back to Angela who helped me understand this situation.

Orphans in Africa (the number is exceeding 2 million today) are children that have lost one or both parents. Orphanages are not just bare-bone shelters. They are home to these children. Single or “half” or Double orphans are usually taken in by other relatives or people in the villages. And most of these families have hardships of their own. So this is why going to an orphanage is seen as a privilege. There is a selection process they must go through and it helps if you know someone familiar with the system. That is why so many people go to Angela for help. Orphanages or homes make sure the children go to school. They work at the homes – gardening, laundry, cooking, crafts to sell, etc. They have friends, adult support, a place to sleep, food, running water, clothes, shoes, a toilet.

Poverty is the number one reason why people die of AIDS, Malaria, dysentery. Poverty is what makes an orphanage a wonderful place for a child. I am moved by this story because it shows what little I knew. So many may see this as a sad scenario and I initially reacted this way as well. And I now understand poverty in Africa. Who am I to say that they don’t have enough? I saw many happy families, children thriving in the compound. Have I compared these people to our own standards of living here in the US? What would you do without the luxuries of tv, ipods, Playstation?. Fuel is cheap here compared to Lusaka. Could you go without drinking water every time you were thirsty? What do you consider bare necessities? Poverty is only what happens to you. For many it is not the way they love, think and act. It is not who they are, it is only what they live in and what they call it is life. And I see them being so much richer than me.

- Hillary