The Trip

Tomorrow morning I will drive to Blair High School and meet nearly two hundred students that I will be required to work with over the next ten months.  The sentiments and adrenaline that surge through me at this point in time resemble the emotions and energy that move through me before any adventurous trip I take, like my most recent journey to Africa, for example.

When I prepare to leave my home for an extended length of time, I strive to cover every detail of my absence.  I organize bills, prepare all necessities for pets, clean my house completely, call loved ones and remind them of my love for them.  I feel as if all "loose ends" need to be tied so that I leave sort of a legacy of peace.

I suppose my preparations for students cause a similar sensation.  I strive to have an inviting classroom, designed comfortably and aesthetically so that students feel excited and welcomed as they walk through the door.  I organize my grading system, my curriculum, my thoughts and emotions so that I can meet the needs of my students, academically and as a fellow human being.

Now, I prepare for bed after a long day, decorating, cleaning, photocopying, planning and preparing.  As I see it, I am hours away from my next journey, a journey into the hearts and minds and lives of amazing young people who have dreams and hopes even though they may live in cultures and worlds that feel foreign to me.  What an honor to go on this trip!

Surf's Up

I have been home from Africa for a week and a half and the showers of blessing overwhelm me.  I constantly gaze at my wedding finger and the beautiful ring that adorns it.  It excites me to be officially "loved," for lack of a better description.  I realize that many plans have to be made and I will need to focus some attention on a celebration for family and friends to share with us.  I have received many congratulations from friends of old along with requests to "catch" up.  Mind you, these are not just Facebook "friends" but people who hold permanent places in my heart and in the formation of who I am.  Therefore, the catching up is obligatory and important.  In addition, my beloved family from up north came to visit, their presence beckoning me to spend time with them.  All of this creates a sensation of busyness, which is something I strive to avoid.

Don'tt misunderstand me, work, plans, friends and family are all critical pieces to my existence and daily routines.  However, I desire to stay balanced each day.  I pray that I ride the waves of busyness as opposed  to getting wiped out by them.  I know there is a way.  The definition is found in many scriptures one of which is Psalm 46:10.  This verse says, "Be still and know that I am God."  When I remember that He is in control of everything, chaotic waves become an opportunity for a ride, an exhilarating, beautiful, and supernaturally enjoyable ride.  Surf's up!

Photos at Last

Innocent, an amazing young man who has gone from rags to riches as he serves the Lord and works hard, hoping to become a doctor; Dana is in the middle, treating her two kids to ice cream in Uganda, and Barbra, a stunning 10 year old who is growing into the grace and knowledge of God!

Kids in their uniforms for school.  Otino Waa is amazing, not only providing homes for Ugandan children but a family system, a safe refuge of hope and joy and in addition to all of this, an education of the highest caliber!

And this is Kudzi, my child in Zimbabwe.  He lives with his mom and little brother in a remote village.  World Vision brought him to me, a two day journey, to spend the day in Harare.  He and his mom had never been in a car before.  Imagine.  Both of us have been changed forever by our encounter!

Home

I am in the US again, home, enjoying a shower with amazing water pressure, resting in the arms of the man I love, walking with my gorgeous dog and settling into my routine.  However, I pray that my routine is anything but normal.

I just spent a month embracing kids that I am financially and prayerfully responsible for; a month meeting people from around the world who love Africa and her people like I do.  My feet trod the same soil as herds of elephants and giraffe, and my lungs soaked in the air and breath of a continent I cherish.  This has shaken and awakened me, refreshed my vision and strengthened my purpose.  My prayer is that this passion infuses itself more than ever into my routine, daily, as I pray for my kids and their peers, for their futures, for their hopes, for their very life breath.  I pray that all of my encounters and delights in Africa this past month actually permeate my home and my life, helping others to have even a small glimpse of the supernatural moments I have been blessed with.  May these sacred moments in fact be "home."

Preparing for home

I began planning my trip to Africa over a year and a half ago.  I began with prayer, which lead to researching my options and then contacting the missionaries and organizations that I hoped to work with.  Then I had to save funds and plan strategically about what I needed, what I would pack, and so many other minute but vital details.  This happened to be part of the fun.

Then I had to leave home, the man I love, the home I enjoy, the dog and cat I cherish.  That was bitter sweet, knowing I would be without their comforts and yet longing for a land and people that reside in my heart.  Africa.

Here in Africa, I have now had the honor of meeting three of my sponsored kids who are stunning and miraculous.  I have sung songs with them and embraced them and etched their features in my memory so that I can close my eyes and see them.  I can see Innocent's dark features and Jesus shining from behind his eyes, lifting the corners of his mouth to a serious smile.  Barbra's hazel-green eyes sparkle with a grin sort of lighting up her face.  And Kudzunai cautiously stares at me to ensure my reality.  He tries to be as serious as possible but when I smile he raises his eyebrows and a smile lifts his cheeks from ear to ear.  This is my Africa.

Now, I find myself with a day of rest preparing to leave for the US in less than twenty-four hours.  I am excited to return to people and pets that I love and yet there is a hollow longing that weighs on my heart, a longing for my real home where LOVE in all of its purity and glory will utterly surround me and those I love.  I long for my heavenly home, where the man and family I adore as well as "my Africa" will be united for eternity.  That is a pleasant thought and for now it will carry me through my flight to Duarte, CA until Africa and I meet again.

Camping out in Afrcia

So, I spent my first ten days or so traveling through Uganda and Zimbabwe meeting orphans that I sponsor.  I am not certain if words can articulate the sensations that gripped me during those days and moments; such joy and deep contentment knowing that my investments in humanity are well rewarded and gratefully appreciated.  After bidding farewell, however, I found myself alone, journeying to Victoria Falls, perpetuating ever new emotions.  My purpose became a bit foggy and unsteady as I had no particular person to encounter, only unknown adventures lay ahead.

I landed safely in Vic Falls, took a taxi to the rest camp I had been registered at, and unloaded my bags in a security room until I could check in.  I then began to walk the small town in search of the actual waterfall.  As soon as I exited the rest camp gates, vendors accosted me with their wares and their pleas, following side by side as I continued walking.  Honestly, my home decor is quite African so some of the items appealed to me.  However, my momentary purpose had become clear, "Look at the waterfall."

Unfortunately, I was born at a time when wild, "National Geographic Society" exploration has come to a significant halt.  Instead, I had to pay $30 to enter the park and begin my stroll along with many other individuals and families.  The power and glory of this waterfall, though, outweighed the initial commercialism I encountered.  The falls are so vast, so enormous and so exquisite.  Water sprays everywhere, cooling you off as you walk.  Again, words fail to express the enormous exhilaration that sort of encompass a person as she gazes on this wonder. It was good.  And to top it off, I had the opportunity to feel "alone" as I walked about a mile from one end of the park to the point from which I had entered.  I turned a corner and saw a large, grey body by the bush; quickly realized it was a wart hog, smiled, shot a photo and continued my journey, unharmed.  

After that adventure, I made my way to the rest camp again in order to meet with the group that I would be camping with for eleven days.  I discovered that two Canadian families, four Australian families, one Scottish, and one South African family were to become my traveling companions.  Up to this point, we have journeyed from Vic Falls to Botswana and even spent three days on a remote camp site in the Delta.   We did several walking safaris and saw dung of every animal that lives in Botswana.  Unfortunately, we saw very few of the actual animals, though.  Fortunately, each day allowed me encounters with giraffe, coming as close to one as about thirty feet and then seeing an entire herd of over forty journeying together.  That is amazing! And that is a wrap for now.

Vic Falls

So, My summer trip to Africa was primarily to meet my three sponsored children.  And I have been saturated with amazing joy having now met all three.  It is wonderful to know that only God could have brought our worlds together and joined us as family.

I have been in Zimbabwe for several days now and had the honor of meeting my Kudzunai and his mom, Patricia.  Due to political unrest because of upcoming elections, I was unable to travel north to his village.  So, World Vision brought him to me in Harare.  Imagine being twelve years old and just riding in a car for the first time.  I got to teach him how to roll down the window and, no, they were not electric.  I introduced him to pizza and then a soccer ball was his chosen purchase. a grin smeared his face with joy for our entire visit.  He speaks limited English so we did have a translator, speaking Shona.  If he had a positive answer, he would smooch out his lips and then raise his eyebrows.  I loved it!  a tickle broke through his pleasant grin and burst into a full toothed smile which I will post when I have the capacity to do so.  Internet here in Zimbabwe has been hit and miss.

But before I close, let me say that I landed in Victoria Falls this morning, stowed my luggage in a security room as I could not check into my cabin yet.  hen I strolled to Victoria Falls, the mile long waterfall.  "It is known as the smoke that thunders."  It is sheer power and gloriously magical.  I walked the entire guided path and enjoyed a perpetual cool mist .  My return journey lead me around a corner and lo and behold, there was a wart hog.  Further along the way, baboons.  they just looked at me and carried on with their business as if they had seen me a million times, after all, people are people.  But this "people" doesn't think that a baboon is just a baboon.  or me it was too cool!

Africa at Large

Of course, traveling for a month in Africa requires much planning.  Part of my plans included getting from Uganda to Zimbabwe in order to meet one of my children that I sponsor through World Vision.  I am a "mom" to three African beauties.

I purchased an airline ticket through Kenya Airways.  My itinerary showed that I would depart at 10 a.m from Entebbe, Uganda and then stop over briefly in Kenya and move on to Harare, Zimbabwe.  Prepared and organized American citizen that I am, I arrived two hours early as instructed.  I made it through the initial security lines, which are prior to even entering the airport, unlike LAX which takes your luggage and then sends you through the agony of security lines.  Then I made it to the counter in order to retrieve my boarding pass.  Imagine my surprise as the attendant announced, "You have missed the plane.  It left at 5 this morning."

I smiled and replied that my itinerary stated otherwise.  She examined it, called a superior, and began to work with another passenger.  The Superior took my paper work and had me take a seat.  Meanwhile, the announcements are calling out for my flight number, stating that it was boarding time.  I approached the counter again and received a smile and, "She's working on it."

I have missed the flight.  I am directed upstairs and didn't bother to notice a lift, or elevator, so I lug my bags up the stairs.  In the Kenya airways  office, another superior "superior" assists, inquiring about when I changed my flight.  Of course I did not change the flight.  I received this itinerary and that was my plan.  She rebooked my flight for the morning, called the online helpline to find out why my itinerary had been changed on their system but not in mine.  Their response is unforgettable.  "We changed her flight but did not notify her in time.  Do not charge her for re booking her flight.  Sorry."

I find this amusing, delightfully so, only because it allowed me another day in Entebbe, enjoying Lake Victoria  and Africa at large.

All in a day!

This morning I awoke extraordinarily early knowing only that I had an appointment to observe a friend speaking on a radio program and that at some time I would have to make it to Entebbe in order to catch a morning flight to Zimbabwe. The radio program happens weekly for Lira is my friend's
home and she desires to teach about Jesus and all of his ways.  

At the start of the program, she made a couple of announcements to the regular listeners, including the following:  "Now don't forget our dental clinic where you can get your teeth repaired.  Stop pulling your teeth out!"  I nearly laughed out loud because of the forthright statement.  Of course I realize that she knows the culture and she explained that it is less expensive to simply get a tooth pulled. When a Ugandan's tooth causes pain, he so she gets it taken out as opposed to the more expensive alternative, fixing it.  Obviously my friend wants to help maintain their beautiful smiles and avoid a future of toothless beauties.

I shared breakfast afterward and then had to choose between hiring a car to take me the six hour drive into Entebbe or to take the public bus.  In spite of my earlier bus ride that nearly jostled my exhausted body right to the ground, I made the wise choice and spent just a few dollars on the bus ride.

It has turned out to be an outstanding choice.  First, I sat in a row with only two seats, precluding others from jamming theirselves into an already tight spot.  My body felt almost luxuriously comfortable compared to my earlier ride which had me sandwiched between an aisle of luggage and a man whose sprawling legs managed to shove half way off the seat.  I felt pretty grateful.

Second, I had not been traveling for over twenty four hours, therefore my perspective was a bit more cheerful, to say the least.

Third, due to my cheerful attitude, I was able to appreciate the clucking chickens, the food vendors rushing the car at every stop we made, the crying, urinating babies, breast feeding moms and the closed windows which stifled the fresh air for a portion of the ride.

Seriously, though, across the aisle from me sat Kevin, eating a grilled piece of maize, piece by piece and row by row.  Next to her lay a beautiful white hen, so quiet I didn't even notice until Kevin began popping kernels onto her lap for her guest to gobble down.

At the first stop, several mommas entered and one sat next to me with her ten year old boy on her lap.   I smiled at him as largely as I could manage while he grinned right back with so many gorgeous white teeth I wouldn't need a flash had it been dark.  I managed to cheer his ride a bit when I gave. Him a piece of trident.  His momma also enjoyed one.

About half way through the journey, though, we stopped for a bathroom break.  while most of the Ugandan,s stepped off the bus, I chose to simply stand and stretch.  As I moved my arms and neck around, I peered just in front of me to catch the eyes of a fellow mzungu, or foreigner.  I asked  her where she was from and her reply, "Peru."  Wow, there I stood speaking Spanish on a bus in Uganda, Africa.  I love it!

The culmination of my six hour trip tickles me the most.  We pulled into the bus park and passengers began  gathering their belongings.  My new Peruvian friend stepped out and proceeded forward, having told me that we should go to get a taxi while Kevin stood  holding her hen, reaching up to the storage rack to gather a basket.  I tried to assist but couldn't budge it.  So I offered the only other alternative, I held her hen while she wrestled her packages from the rack.  I wished her a safe journey, took one of my own and pray that the hen rested well too!

I am a Mom!

Those who know me realize that I have never given birth but God has blessed me with kids, holy rebels, my students, and my orphans, two of which brought me here to Uganda.  I had been to the village before, Otinowaa Waa but never to visit my own kids, that is, kids that I sponsor.

The directors follow a tidy organizational plan so I had to submit to their wishes and refrain myself from running through the gates shouting their names.  Once the normal orders of business took place, I began preparing  myself to find them but as I turned toward the houses, a young girl tapped me on the shoulder and said, "What is your name?" With her lovely English accent.  I said "Dana" to which she replied with a grin, "I am Barbra."

My girl!  Wow.  Years of letters and packages and hours upon hours of,planning and traveling lead me to Barbra.  Exhilaration arrested me and I just held her.

and later, the two of us went in search of my spiritual son, Innocent.  within moments other children were helping us until I looked across the field and noticed an extremely tall, lanky boy ambling my way.  Innocent.  the boy whoe letters inspired my trip in the first place.

We shared an ice cream as I was allowed to take them to the cafe and they wore grins for hours even after opening the gift bag I had brought for each of them.  amazing.  glorious.  overwhelming are three words that easily flow for my lips in regard to this extraordinary encounter.

My kids in Africa need me to send financial aid each month.  but even more important are the letters and photos I send.
 If you are a sponsor, join me in my letter writing endeavors.  If you are not a sponsor, join me in becoming one!

Alive in Uganda

I arrived in Lira, Uganda after too many hours of travel. I sat on an airplane for nine hours or so on the way to London.  After  making it through customs and wandering about for several hours, I boarded another plane to get into Uganda.  Another nine hours.  Once at the Entebbe airport, I hired a car to drive me into Kampala and drop me at a bus station.  This apparently is where my African adventure began.

The bus looked to be ninety years old and was filled with beautiful African people.  I managed to find a seat, separated from the people next to me by a twelve inch aisle which rapidly shrunk before my eyes as people continued to board the bus and place their packages underneath seats with edges protruding into the middle of the aisle.

Meanwhile vendors entered the bus walking the aisles trying to sell their wares:  socks, gum, bottles of water, speakers, a solar panel, peanuts, wallets, etc, etc.  This persisted for nearly an hour due to the fact that the conductor would not leave without filling every seat, one of which was next to me.  I let a tall gentleman sit between myself and the passenger next to the window.  He sprawled his legs completely, causing one side of my body to nearly hang in the aisle.  How long will this bus ride be?

Too long. Hours and hours, nine to be exact,  The bus struggled through an hour of traffic through Kampala.  We stopped for fuel and allowed more vendors to sell goods.  Passengers held money out of the  windows buying corn, meat kabobs, bananas and loaves of sliced bread.  I sat praying that my bladder would remain empty and that my legs would function when I had to stand.  Every jostle against warm bodies all around me heightened the intensity of those prayers.

I must have been like a child peering out the window relentlessly longing to see OtinoWaa Village.  and suddenly, I had arrived.  It felt like a miracle.

 I have arrived.  I have rested, bathed and eaten a meal.  As they say  in Africa, God is good!

Passing through London

Okay, friends.  I have made it to London!  although the first flight was cramped and long, It passed quickly due to the fact that God has blessed me with the ability to sleep through anything.  so, in an hour I will board another plane and head out to Entebbe, Uganda.  wow!  I am in humble awe that God has allowed me to journey this far.  I am astounded by all of the support:  prayer support, financial support, enthusiastic cheering and lots of encouragement.  I look forward to sharing pictures of my beautiful African children soon.  Stay tuned!  with tons of abounding love, Dana.

Two days Out

So, in two days I will board an airplane and fly for hours and hours, stopping over in London and then eventually planting myself on the continent of Africa.  I am speechless over the whole adventure that lies before me.  In the meantime, though, I am relishing my moments at home, on summer vacation.  I went on a twenty five mile bike ride this morning with Rico, washed laundry, stocked up on cat food for when I am gone and then drove to meet my mom for dinner.

Each trip I have ever taken creates the same sensations for me, a sense of exhilarating adventure and anticipation while at the same time, a feeling of closure, as if I need to have all my ducks in a row.  Perhaps it is simply a break from  my current chapter as I step on foreign soils in order to write or experience a completely different chapter.    I am not certain but I feel homesick before I seven leave.

Nevertheless, I must go.  I am compelled.  There is no way to stay behind.  And so, in the midst of all the preparations I find myself involved with, I think of beautiful dark faces with gleaming white smiles.  I envision red dusty roads underneath my feet and multitudes of voices crying out for my attention and the weight of this honor and the joy set before me, beckons me forth..

three days Out

So, I took the time and made the effort to start a blog in hopes that I would write and inspire others.  Three months of not writing are definitely not inspirational.  So now, this moment, things must change.      I am three days away from departure to my beloved Africa where I will spend time with three children that I have the honor of sponsoring.  Two live in Uganda and my third lives in Zimbabwe.  I have been to Africa several times and each has captivated my heart.  However, there is something sacred, more sacred than normal, about this trip.  Perhaps it is because I am visiting MY kids.  I know, I have never given birth, but God has filled my life with kids.  I served as a youth pastor for years and to this day, I feel like they are mine.  I have taught kids in public school now for fifteen years and again, they are mine.  but these three African beauties are something else.  Unexpected treasures!

I provide finances to allow these children to go to school and have medicines they need or food or clean water.  I send letters and packages and dance with joy when I open my mailbox to find an international envelope with the words, "Uganda" or "Zimbabwe," printed on it.  About a year and a half ago, I received a long letter from my oldest child.  Often these letters are quite formal and quaint at best.  However, this particular letter gripped my heart. He spent two pages describing his schooling, his family and his dream to become a doctor and more than once he mentioned "I love you."  He signed it, "Your spiritual son. . ."

Wow.  I wept and thanked God for this child of mine.  I called my mom, my dearest friend, and told her of the letter.  Her reply, "You have to go visit."  Thus began the plan to travel to Africa.  Now, after many hours of planing and writing emails and contacting numerous resources, I am three days away from departure.  I have much to share in these next seventy two hours and I cannot imagine what stories I will obtain during my twenty five days in Africa.  Stay posted.

These are just a few samples of photos taken in Kurungu Valley, Kenya.  These are the Samburu, cousin of the Masaai.