Nathan's Travel Blog

To Same - Friday, January 20

This morning, I was first awakened by the sounds of Islamic prayers from a nearby mosque, and shortly thereafter, a rooster near my window. I was eager to get up to explore the area, so I got up shortly after 6:00 a.m. to see what was around the Uhuru (Freedom) Center. Alex and I walked around for a while and came upon a stunning view of Mount Kilimanjaro just as the sun was rising on the mountain. Shortly afterwards, we went for a delicious breakfast in the dining area.

After changing some money and exploring Moshi for a while, we piled into the van and headed to Mwanga to drop off medical supplies. We met the doctor there and saw the many women and children waiting to see him. It was difficult to see the low standard of health care in this rural area, but it is fortunate that there is at least this care, to which people walk from the surrounding area.

After stopping briefly in Mwanga, we drove to Same. The drive was beautiful and pleasant, even crammed into the back of the Land Rover. In Same, we are staying at the Amani (Peace) Lutheran Center (ALC), which is a series of rooms/meeting spaces surrounding a beautiful courtyard. The rooms are not as nice as the Uhuru center in Moshi, but compared with the vast majority of structures in Same, it is opulent. The ALC has plumbing hooked up in the rooms, but there is no running water because when the well was drilled, it was dry. It is difficult to imagine how much more complicated daily life would be with water as scarce as it is here. They do have a small amount of water that can be retrieved from a large tank in the courtyard, but it is limited. The lunch we had at 3:00 p.m. was delicious – rice with some sort of beef/carrot stew along with fresh bananas and a delicious type of flat bread, chapati. The hospitality shown to us was excellent, and it was interesting to see/experience the way Tanzanians wash their hands with a pitcher of water and a basin before meals.

Dispensary Visit - Saturday, January 21

Today was an exhausting day, taxing on all levels. After a refreshing morning walk towards the foot of the mountain near Same, we drove to a medical dispensary at Bonde la Ruru. The drive to this location was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. After a few kilometers, I would hardly consider what we were driving on a road. It was more like a rugged hardened dirt path filled with gullies and bumps. It wound through what seemed like endless miles of parched earth with brittle-looking, small plants with barely a hint of green in their sparse leaves. Everything looked very dry, yet the land teemed with life; we saw lots of birds, and large lizard, and even a monkey. As we descended onto the large plain near our destination, the vegetation changed and became even sparser. As we reached the medical dispensary, we were very kindly greeted by many people from the village, mostly Maasai men and women.

Seeing the dispensary was a painful reminder of the desperate situation of the majority of the citizens of developing countries across the world. In the women/children wing of the building, beds covered with cracked plastic and no coverings of any kind lined each side of the room. A very sick, young child and his mother laid on one of the beds. A pastor accompanying us blessed the child before we left the room. As we moved into the men’s wing, we saw a dying man with tuberculosis and AIDS. A sense of complete helplessness, shock, and sadness overtook me as we left the building. In the next building, we saw various rooms, including the doctor’s office, a storage space for medicines, etc., and the birthing room. As I entered the medicine storage room, I was distraught to see that the main drug available to fight malaria infections (the leading problem) was guanine sulphate, which is largely ineffective against malaria in this part of the world (as a prophylactic, anyway; maybe it still helps for treatment).

It is important to mention that the observations about the conditions and capabilities of this medical dispensary are from my perspective; in fact, the doctor presented the clinic as something he was (deservedly) proud of, given the severely limited resources available. It’s difficult and appalling for someone from the US to imagine a level of health care this low, and it’s disheartening to know that this dispensary is superior to many others.

Maasai Boma - Saturday, January 21

After visiting the dispensary, we set out on an even more winding, narrow “path” through the flat terrain to visit a Maasai village (boma). We had to be led to the location of the village because there is no road leading to it. As we piled out of the land rover, we were greeted with reluctant but curious looks from a hoard of young children wearing blue clothing draped over their bodies. There were also many young and middle aged women, but very few boys older than around ten years old. This group of Maasai is all one family. There is one patriarch and he has approximately ten wives. Each wife builds, maintains, and controls her house, and all of them live near each other in an area surrounded by piled-up brush.

At first, the children were very shy and would not approach us nor interact with us. Once the women brought out beaded crafts to sell and members of our group began to barter with them, the kids started to show obvious curiosity about us and relaxed somewhat. They would stare at us from a safe distance, and we would smile back. If we tried to approach them, they would run away. We were given permission to take pictures, so I took a lot of pictures of the group and especially the children. They looked fascinated by the cameras, but ran away if we tried to approach them to show them the pictures. There was one little boy, in particular, that seemed to really stare at me. At one point, I was taking pictures of the entire group, and this little boy, who I know had been watching me closely, ran around the group and stood right in front of me, staring at the camera. When I tried to show him the image, he ran away. Eventually, we were able to approach them and the children were fascinated and excited to see their pictures. It wasn’t long before all of them were posing for photos and were giddy when they saw their images.

The oldest woman in the boma was holding a baby on her back. We asked, through translators, and found that the woman was the mother of the man who headed the boma, and the baby was her son’s wife. At birth, Maasai women are sometimes married to their husband and move into the boma with him (apparently). I don’t understand the intricacies of this system (obviously) since this arrangement would not be possible in the long term; this sort of system is mind-blowing from a Western perspective. [There is surely some variation, too, in Maasai culture].

One of the wives invited us to see her home (many of the wives did not allow us to get near their homes.). It was probably one of the senior wives, and it was one of the nicest “homes.” There were two small rooms made with mud walls. There was very little light inside, only what light passed through the entrance and some small slits in the wall. There was a room for cooking and a room for sleeping. The “bed” was a hardened cattle hide, and there were no pillows on sheets or blankets that I could see. She seemed proud of this abode, and this surreal experience made me realize the extent of their poverty and isolation. It’s hard to imagine how isolated these people are, in the middle of a desolate and harsh place. The lifestyle is unimaginable for Westerners, with no real choice available, especially for women.

After returning to the ALC, we all felt completely drained, emotionally and physically, so it was good that we had nothing planned for the evening. Throughout the evening, some of us discussed various aspects of the day, and we found it interesting how different people reacted to the various parts of the day.

Gonga Hospital, Sunday, January 22

Today was another incredible, but “easier-to-take” day. We traveled to the Gonja Hospital, which is located high in the Pare mountains, roughly a two-hour drive from Same. The first part of the trip was fairly “smooth,” meaning that there was a rough gravel road wide enough for two cars. After that, we drove on a “special road” the rest of the way. This road was very bad, full of holes and gullies, winding its way up through the mountains. The scenery was incredible, though by the end, the rough road and the heat made the drive quite uncomfortable.

As we approached the hospital, there were people everywhere wearing beautiful, colorful clothing, lounging in the sun, and conversing with each other. When we got out of the vehicle, we obviously drew a lot of attention (as we do everywhere, being “wazungu” – white people). We were given a tour of the hospital and learned about many of the problems that face medical staff. I found it interesting that the hospital was constructed high in the mountains so it would be at an altitude such that malaria-spreading mosquitoes wouldn't be a problem.

After having a delicious lunch, we headed back toward Same. We stopped part of the way down the mountain to visit and marveled at the expansive view of the mountains overlooking the plains toward Kenya.

Usangi and Shighatini, Monday, January 23

Yesterday we traveled to the Usangi Girl’s Secondary School and the Shighatini Seconday School.

The Usangi Girl’s School is a boarding school for girls. I was shocked to find that tuition and fees are only about $350 (USD) per year; however, in Tanzania, that is an incredible amount of money, considering the average annual income is about $200 (USD)! A relatively small amount of money can go a long way in Tanzania!

Shighatini was a beautiful place to visit. It is in the mountains, where there is more rain, and people seem to be much more prosperous. A common theme is emerging as we visit various areas of the Kilimanjaro region: Water = Success. The dramatic difference in extreme poverty between “wet” areas and dry areas is astounding.

We spent the night at the Mwanga School for the Deaf, which has a beautiful campus near the foot of the mountains in Mwanga. The rooms are very nice by Tanzanian standards, though there is still not a functional shower or Western toilet.

Mwanga and AIDS, Tuesday, January 24

Today, we visited a hydroelectric power plant, which provides a lot of the power for this area. It is called “Nyumba ya Mungu” (“House of God”), named after a sacred place that was flooded when the dam was built in the late 1960’s. The drought during the last 5-10 years has been so severe that the reservoir approximately 7 meters low – a colossal water shortage. Only one of the two turbines can be used at the power station because they can’t let any more water out than they currently allow with one generator. Soon, it is expected that even that one generator will need to be shut down periodically to conserve water.

We next visited a group of orphans (AIDS orphans, I think) at a school near the reservoir. We trekked across very barren, dusty, dry land to approach the school. It was difficult to see the orphans and know the toll that AIDS has taken on this village and all of Africa. Afterwards, we had an unplanned meal. Clearly, these people did not have nearly as many resources as those who come from the mountains (or wetter areas), but their hospitality was second to none.

After visiting the well at Mforo that a church in Pella, Iowa is building in conjuction with a church in Mwanga, we returned to Mwanga for a welcome program. I love to hear the rich tone in African choirs, as well as the obvious emotional connection to the music. During one piece they sang, they had very somber faces; I was told that the song was about crying for AIDS victims. Some of the singers were clearly emotional, wiping tears from their eyes.

The AIDS problem was further illustrated by a powerful and emotional drama, which showed a working man cheating on his wife, contracting AIDS, infecting his wife, and dying. After his wife dies, their son is left alone. The acting was good, and humor was used more than I would have expected when dealing with this subject. I was very surprised and shocked at how many people were smiling and laughing about this very serious issue. I suppose the tragedy is so great and widespread that this sort of humor is therapeutic for the people. There were some people, however, who were clearly more disturbed and for whom AIDS has surely been all too real.

I constantly scanned the room, watching people’s reactions to the play. It was fascinating to see the laughter and smiles on many faces, yet pain and sorrow were buried under each smile. On others, a painful, introspective, mournful look was evident. People were also watching me. I would frequently look around the room and make eye contact with others. I wondered what they were thinking, what their stories were, and what pain they felt, but also what they thought of me – whether they could read the pain in my eyes as I watched the AIDS drama unfold. I suppose they thought, “He can’t possibly understand…,” and they’re right. I can’t understand their pain. I can’t even imagine their pain, but I try. I hope they sensed that I try to feel their pain.

Often, tonight, I was numb. These experiences have overwhelmed my emotions and taxed my mind. During the last part of the night, I bought some baskets from some of the women. I didn’t realize until I got home just how much money I had spent. I spent $15.50 on 5 baskets. Considering the average annual income in Tanzania is ~$200, $15 is about one month’s salary! This figure is staggering and makes me realize the dire situation of many of these people.

Tomorrow we go to Hedaru for the first time. We are nervous and excited, but ready to meet our companions.

Arrival in Hedaru, Wednesday, January 25

We arrived in Hedaru around dusk, and there was a large crowd of children and adults eagerly waiting for us. As we piled out of the vehicle, we feverishly shook hands and greeted as many people as possible. After unloading our luggage from the van, there was a crowd waiting to carry our luggage into the hall where dinner was to be served. Once situated at the head table, we were all eager to introduce ourselves and to be introduced to the assembled villagers. We introduced ourselves first. When it was my turn, I introduced myself in some token Swahili; they really seemed to enjoy the effort. As we were introduced to them, we had a lot of great laughs, and they seemed genuinely excited and interested to meet us. When they started bringing out the food for dinner, we couldn’t believe how much food they had prepared. It was absolutely a feast, and all of it was delicious, as we’ve come to expect. Just when we thought we had things figured out in Tanzania, they brought out a goat that had been cooked whole! They explained that it is a tradition that they prepare a goat like this for very special occasions or for honored guests! Sheri went to the goat and was shown how to cut some of the meat from the back of the goat; then our host, Pastor Luhwa, fed each of us a small piece. After the host shared the meat with the guests, it was Sheri’s job to feed small pieces of meat to everyone in attendance. Finally, everyone had whatever they wanted. I never thought I’d ever be in a position where someone killed a goat for me! It was an incredible evening, and we were made to feel at home very quickly.

After the meal, we chatted for a while with various people there to greet us. While I talked to many people, a few are prominent in my memory, such as Clement, Eva, Grace, and Pastor Luhwa. I have been impressed with the hospitality shown by many people, but specifically, Clement seems to be very charismatic and makes us feel very comfortable. It’s exciting to finally be in Hedaru, and I look forward to building a good relationship with these people throughout the next few days!

Water Shortage, Thursday, January 26

This morning, in the courtyard near where we are staying, we were chatting with Pastor Luhwa, and he mentioned that many people in Hedaru come to this place to get water. The water is gravity fed from the mountain and is in short supply. When we asked where the people were, he said that no one was allowed to use the water this week because of us; they didn’t want to risk running out of water while we are here! We promptly told him that we don’t mind if people come here to get water.

Today was market day in Hedaru, so we walked through the market with Grace and Pastor Luhwa. It was packed with people selling a large assortment of goods, such as plastic items that would be considered junk in the US, fruits and vegetables, and used clothing. I really wanted to get some photographs, but I felt guilty owning such an expensive piece of equipment when I saw the things that people were selling just to make a living. Just carrying my camera made me feel like I was unacceptably flaunting my wealth, and I didn’t want to become an even greater target for theft. I felt relatively safe because I was with Pastor Luhwa, and it is clear that he command great respect here. We were keeping an eye out for a drum for Alex, but we didn’t find one. It’s obvious that our hosts are very eager to please, so we try to make clear that we are very pleased with everything.

Touring Hedaru I, Thursday, January 26

The first location we visited outside the main area of Hedaru was Mbukwe, which is up on the mountainside. During the drive up the mountain in the rented van, we had mechanical problems. We were on a “special” road again, possibly the most “special” road yet, and the van bottomed out in a few places. Finally, Shannon unequivocally “offered” that we get out of the van and walk a while so it would have an easier time climbing the mountain road. The terrain was once again, amazingly, different from many of the other areas we had seen in Tanzania. At previous locations we’d seen in the mountains, there had been enough rain to support many crops, but here, near Hedaru, the mountainside is dry. The drought has hit this area hard, leaving the local economy in shambles.

We met a group of Mbukwe residents in a building on a ridge overlooking the parched city. We were again offered refreshments and told about the history of people in this area. We had our introductions, and the welcome was very warm, yet unrehearsed.  We received coffee as a gift. We walked much of the way down the mountain (due to the very special road), so we got to examine the desiccated countryside more closely. We also got to see one of the few sources of Hedaru’s water; it’s not a substantial water source.

Next, we went to Kongei, which is a short distance outside of Hedaru on the other side of the highway. Here, there were more than one hundred children, who had gotten out of school, waiting to greet us. They sang some spirited songs, and we taught them how to sing, “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes.” After eating yet another meal, we were presented with some woven baskets as gifts. For dinner, we requested a very small meal since we had been eating so much all day. We chatted for a while with Pastor Luhwa before having a short discussion amongst ourselves.

My observations about the day are many, but time is limited! Briefly, I think it was a good day, and we learned a lot about the area surrounding Hedaru. One thing that became very clear to me today is that Clement E. Ngoka wields an enormous amount of influence in this city and parish. I don’t consider him to be aggressive nor pushy, just influential, well-spoken, polite, and powerful. Clement will surely be an important contact as we discuss the details of our companionship. Grace also strikes me as an influential member of the congregation. Lastly, Pastor Luhwa seems to be a very honest, straightforward, and sincere person.

Touring Hedaru II, Friday, January 27

Today was yet another amazing day!

First we went to Katae, the Maasai sub-congregation. The Maasai were very welcoming and much less shy than the previous Maasai group we met. The Maasai sang many songs for us and were very animated, jumping in rhythm with the drum beating in the background.

Katae is located on the very arid Maasai Steppe. I still can’t believe how dry the land is here. The lack of water is surely the largest impediment to development. Clement told us today on the way to Katae (on another “special” road) that they have a saying in Swahili, “maji ni uhai,” meaning “water is life.” After seeing many of these areas, I understand this saying quite well. The Maasai presented us with gifts, beaded bracelets and necklaces, which were beautifully made. They also gave Alex the drum that they had been using during their songs. It was a beautifully decorated cow hide stretched over an old metal trash bin and had a nice sound. They said, through two translators (Maasai to Swahili to English) that their gifts were very small and that they were sorry they couldn’t give us more. We thought they gave us far too much! We had a small snack before moving on to Gunge.

Gunge was a difficult stop. It was clear that the people were tired and hungry, and it was blisteringly hot and dry in the afternoon sun. I find it unimaginable that anyone could survive in a climate such as this, and in reality, they are barely surviving. We had lunch after the introductions and some songs, and none of us felt like eating because of the intense heat and the throngs of hungry, tired people outside the building. Maji ni uhai.

We returned to Hedaru and met more Hedaru residents. A youth choir (young adults) sang and danced during their songs. Two other choirs also performed, one “normal” African choir and another comprised of older residents. After introductions, which were much more detailed than in previous visits of the day, we were presented with hand-woven hats, baskets, and a large mat as gifts.

Stronger Relationships, Friday, January 27

We are starting to get much more comfortable with our hosts, and we’re joking and laughing a lot more. After dinner, we sang, danced, and laughed a while before presenting them with some gifts. They were very excited to receive our gifts, and we had a good time showing them photos and throwing a soccer ball around the room.

We continued making stronger relationships with many Hedaru residents today. We learned this morning that Clement is the head of the local government, so our observations about his influence and power in the community were not mistaken. Pastor Luhwa loosened up more today. At Gunge, he seemed to teach the people a new song on a whim as we were leaving. I suspect he saw how hungry and tired they looked, and he wanted them to perk up. It did raise their spirits, at least temporarily.

I’ve had fun learning more Swahili words, and the people really seem entertained by my attempts at Swahili phrases. As I’ve thought for a long time, learning the language is one of the best way of really getting to know a culture; learning their language (or trying!) shows that you truly respect who they are and that you sincerely want to learn more about them. I’ve seemed to make the most progress with relationship building when I break the ice with a phrase or two in Swahili!

Tonight, the power went out, so I’m writing this with lantern light. After the power went out, I went out to the road near my room to look at the stars. The brilliance of the night sky when you get away from city lights is breathtaking. I sat for a few minutes, completely relaxed. Mlay happened to walk by; since he doesn’t speak English very well, he didn’t understand me when I told him I was just looking at the stars. He quickly ran to a nearby house and came back a few minutes later with a lantern! Godfrey stopped by after a few minutes to make sure I was all right and that I knew how to shut off the lantern. The people here are very eager to be good hosts. I hope we aren’t too stressful to have as visitors. The lantern was nice so I could finish my journal, but it had been great to just enjoy the beauty of the night sky.

Despair, Saturday, January 28

Today was an emotionally and physically draining day. We visited four other areas near Hedaru. We saw some of the poorest, most dejected people I’ve seen in Tanzania, yet our friendship with our hosts has deepened. My Swahili has grown somewhat to simple sentences in the present tense and a small vocabulary of useful words haphazardly laced together, but it’s better than nothing. I really seem to get lots of smiles and aggressive handshakes for just trying to use the language. I wish I could do more.

The first area we visited, Game, was the most difficult part of the trip for me so far. When we arrived, there was a small group of residents waiting, looking forlorn and blank with hunger. The children, who in other areas were grinning and curiously investigating the anomalies walking (driving) through their town, looked gaunt and lifeless – hopeless. I was struck by the defeated look on each resident's face; the despair was palpable. I wanted to scream and run out of the room. I felt trapped by the injustice of their situation, helpless to change anything.

When my turn came to introduce myself, I couldn’t hide the hopelessness and disgust I felt. As they sang a song for us, I couldn’t see their exuberant facades – only the exhausted, drought-worn faces that they displayed when they thought no one was looking. I suppose music and dancing may help them temporarily forget their lot, but it angered me that the reality of their situation was nothing like the songs they sang. At one point during a very “uplifting,” exciting song, I could barely hold in the tears as I glanced backwards at the blank stares of the children looking in the windows. I was angry.

Touring Hedaru III, Saturday, January 28

The next area we visited was Mabilioni. The name means something like “flowing blood” because it was a German camp that was bombed by the English during World War II. The people here looked much better and lifted my spirits considerably, but there were still reminders of the ever-present poverty, such as a child sitting on the ground staring blankly and hopelessly as we drove by.

The third area, Mpatwa, was even more uplifting. It was on the mountain, so we had to walk a while to get to it. (The van wouldn’t have made it with people in it.) As we approached the building, hiking from below in the blazing sun with temperatures over 100 °F, the children came running excitedly down the hill to greet us. Throughout their songs and introductions, there were eager faces peaking in the windows interested in what was happening.

Our last stop was Majengo, which means “building.” This settlement was built recently when the government relocated many people who were displaced from floods/landslides on the mountain. These people looked very tired, but still better than those at Game earlier in the day. I was eager to leave to give my mind a break from the suffering that was everywhere around me.

AIDS and Elia's Family, Saturday, January 28

When we returned, exhausted, Elia Godson Mchana eagerly invited me his house to meet his wife and family. When I arrived, he sent out one of his children to buy a soda and introduced me to his children, grandchildren, and wife. One part of the conversation, in particular, was eye-opening for me. (I may have these details wrong, but the point remains clear.) After introducing his niece, he said that her mother (his brother’s wife) had died of AIDS and her father was at the university. The next child he introduced was also his niece. This girl’s father (Elia’s brother-in-law) had died of AIDS, and her mother was very ill from complications of AIDS. These facts by themselves are sobering, but what really jolted me was the nonchalant manner of the conversation. He was clearly sad, but his tone was quite matter-of-fact as he recounted how siblings and siblings-in-law had all died of AIDS complications. The AIDS problem is so widespread that everyone here is constantly touched by it. Now AIDS has a face for me. It makes me wonder who, among those whom I have met, has AIDS? It’s not something I’m ready to ponder right now.

Leaving Hedaru, Sunday, January 29

After lunch our hosts had more gifts for us! First, they presented us with a beautiful statue of two Maasai carved out of ebony.  They explained that the two people represented our two groups in Ames and Hedaru, walking hand-in-hand. The statue was obviously very old because it showed some signs of wear and a few broken pieces, but it was incredibly beautiful and meaningful.  We were also given clothing, which was fitted for each of us. Each of us was “dressed” by a different Hedaru resident, which was a nice gesture. Just before leaving, we had one last “send off” where we gave one last “Thank you” and said goodbye (or Tutaonana! – We’ll see each other again!).

Leaving Hedaru was definitely a relief, even though the experience was incredible in so many ways. We were all exhausted after our experience learning about Hedaru, and we all needed some time to rest, decompress, and think.

Surprise Visit, Monday, January 30

Tuesday morning, we were almost done with breakfast when we were surprised by Clement and Elia from Hedaru! They took the bus all the way from Hedaru to Same to bring some items that we had accidentally left behind. We chatted with them for a while, and I asked them to teach me “Haleluya Tutaonana,” a song which I had had in my head but didn’t quite know. Don taped it so I can learn it.

I was so nice to see them after leaving only two day earlier.  It seemed like a lot of time had passed since we were in Hedaru. 

Heifer International, Wednesday, February 1

Wednesday morning we visited Heifer International, an organization that provides high quality livestock (goats, chickens, cows) and education about proper care and reproduction to poor people to help them improve their economic situations and become self-sufficient. We saw two incredible farms that used the techniques for livestock care, feeding, and sustainable agriculture that Heifer International supports. The difference that education makes in these farmers’ lives is immense! We hope that at some future time, when water issues are improved, that Hedaru can benefit from some of these techniques.

Maasai Girls Lutheran Secondary School at Monduli, Thursday, February 2

On Thursday, we first visited the Maasai Girl’s Lutheran Secondary School in Monduli. The Maasai school was especially interesting for me since Concordia College (Moorhead), my undergraduate college, has a relationship with the school. Every year, two graduates from this school are given full scholarships to come to Concordia. It’s interesting and shocking to learn about the situations from which girls at this school come. Many of them can’t go home over school breaks because their families would force them to marry their pre-arranged husbands. If a girl becomes pregnant in any secondary school in Tanzania, she is sent home, so many women at the Maasai school can’t risk going home ever. There is much opposition by many parents about this school (though less now than a few years ago) because parents can lose the dowry paid to them when they promised their young, infant daughter to a man. Prior to this education, these women had no choice but to submit to their husbands’/families’ traditions. The Maasai girl’s school gives them a choice and a voice. Social justice begins with education.

Final Thoughts, Saturday, February 4

As I sit on the plane, heading back to the United States at ~500 miles per hour, no clear thoughts, revelations, or insights seem clear to me. The whirlwind of activities visiting the Kilimanjaro region will take some time to fully digest. I leave Pare with many of the same emotions I have felt after previous visits to developing nations. I’ve been reminded once again of the ubiquity of poverty on this planet, that our “normal” lives in the United States are anything but normal for the vast majority of the earth’s population. I’m reminded of a need to look outside of our own back yard to our brothers and sisters across the globe, not just to help them overcome some of their impediments to existence, but also to learn from them and their culture about our shared human experience. We can learn so much from these people.  I’m reminded of the power of the human spirit to overcome amazing obstacles, yet make keenly aware that the spirit has limitations. I’m reminded that water, food, family, and shelter are too scarce for too many of the world’s people. I’ll have the hopeless, vacant stare of many African children and adults burned into my memory forever. I’m reminded of the carnage that AIDS has brought to the world, and particulary Africa, as I recall the nonchalant conversation with Elia about his many close relatives who had succumbed to the illness. I’m reminded of the power that education gives to help people lift themselves out of poverty and oppression.

Finally, I’m reminded of a real relationship built between people in Ames and Hedaru.  I hope that we can work effectively with Hedaru residents to effect real change in the world, but first our team must tell our story so that others will start to understand what we have experienced and help us chart the course of our relationship with these people.  I am confident that this relationship will grow, be strong, and prosper.