Laundry

A few years ago my wife took a photo of the laundry line at the family cabin in North Western Ontario. It is a great picture of towels, t-shirts, and swim trunks blowing in the wind. Whenever I see laundry on lines now, in back yards, on apartment balconies, even behind industrial spaces, it always makes me feel like I have something in common with the folks who have hung it. I know what that's like. I can relate. I have seen some beautiful laundry lines here in Lesotho. I have taken many pictures of them as well. I am afraid they are kind of like the mountains, photos just don't do them justice, or maybe it is just my photos. I am sure my wife could do much better.

Lerobane

 

I woke up in time to go to first mass at the Anglican Church here at the convent. I know the pastor referred to Jeremiah. Other than that I am not sure exactly what happened, but I liked it. That format was somewhat familiar, the most familiar thing I have experienced here so far.  I also went for a 10k run this morning; part of it was up Anne-Marie's mountain (if you know anything about Bracelet of Hope it should be no surprise that there is a mountain here they refer to as hers; if not it is time you did!). This afternoon we visited the foster home in Lerobane. It is an incredible place. We parked by a river, had to cross the river stone by stone and hike about 3 kms straight up the side of a mountain to get there. About halfway up we waited on the bulls that blocked the path. A young boy from the local farm finally showed up and boldly ushered them off the road. We finished our hike and got to the home. It is a simple brick house: a boys room, a girls room, a parents room and an open space that is a kitchen and eating area.  There is no running water or electricity. A simple house. A simple life. Eight kids live there with two foster parents (a couple). Eight beautiful kids. The stories they come from are sad, very sad. They are the kind of stories we don't like to hear and that are difficult to re-tell. However the story they find themselves in currently is a good one, it is full of education, support, care and opportunities. We brought oranges, pencils and a dollar store soccer ball. As a result we were received like royalty. We had a wonderful time singing, playing and trying to say each other's names. The whole thing leaves me a little speechless. I could go on and on about how happy they are despite having so little. I could question my own excess and ask again what it is about having less that makes you appreciate more? I could ask a lot of questions and write a lot of things that would likely induce guilt. Instead I will just say this; today I saw what we came for. 

Mountains

I can't stop taking pictures of mountains. I also can't seem to get a good one. They are absolutely beautiful. I suppose like sunsets, rainbows, and personalities, an image just never quite captures it. I will probably keep trying.

Lithoteng

We drove back to Maseru to visit our second home today. It is on the outskirts of the city in a village called Lithoteng. We spent 24 hours at this visit. This was the one that was meant to give us a clear picture, sort of a 'Day in the Life' with the orphans. We met with the foster mom and Samuel the social worker and offered to make dinner for everyone (foster mom, 11 kids, the two of us and a bit of extra as some neighbours often show up; they did). We met the children as they arrived home from school. We had brought pencils, stickers, a picture book and a soccer ball (because the one yesterday was such a hit!). We made a huge meal of rice, beef and salad with the children, played games and sang songs into the night, Then we all did chores and then we went to bed. Sleeping in a room full of boys in bunk beds made me feel like I was at camp again. We did our best to make each laugh and eventually dozed off only to be woken by roosters at 4 am! This morning we had a traditional Lesotho porridge for breakfast and walked the kids to school. It was hard to say goodbye; it is remarkable how close you can feel to people after only 24 hours, especially people you may never see again. If that sounds like a fun day, it was. If it sounds like a good time, it was. However let's not forget why these children are in this home; let's not forget the horrific, heartbreaking scenarios that have created the need for these homes. This is a troubled country. The AIDS pandemic is devastating. It is safe to say these children have no future whatsoever without the work being done by organizations like Bracelet of Hope. As a white man, I stand out here. Strangers want to stop and talk on the streets. It is often awkward telling them what we are doing and why I am here. It seems as though we might be stepping over a boundary or crossing a line, as though we don't belong and should leave it alone. But that is not the case. Everyone I have met has thanked me. Everyone I have talked to has let me know how much they appreciate what we are doing for their children, for their people, for their future. The last 24 hours was a good time, it was a fun day. But it was a whole lot more than that as well.

So far so good

This is my office for the next two weeks, cool eh? I spent my first day checking out town and visiting some craft centres that Bracelet of Hope supports. There is incredible work being done here. I will visit my first foster home tomorrow. Needless to say, I am very excited. Internet access is somewhat limited but I hope to have pictures and information up sooner than later. Thanks for checking us out!

I made it!

After 40 hours in transit I am finally in Lesotho and have the passport stamp to prove it! The drive from Maseru to Hlotse was stunning. The landscape is otherworldly; we are surrounded by ragged mountains, flat plateau rocks and winding river valleys. The vegetation, the dirt, the cows, chickens, bulls, the clothes, homes; even the clarity of the sky is different here. It is a remarkable feeling to find yourself in such a far and distant land. I have already heard some wonderful stories and that was just from Andy on the drive from the airport. I am exhausted. I have only slept sparingly, probably a total of 4 hours over the last two days. I am disoriented, worn out and sore, but the first three hours here have been incredible.  

 

Oh Canada

I just met a Californian who told me he wears a Canadian flag pin when he travels! I am feeling especially proud to be Canadian right now. I am sure it is partially the leftover buzz from team Canada's success at the Rio games, partially from the Tragically Hip show last Saturday (haven't stopped humming "Ahead By a Century" for 4 days!), partially the time I spent the last two weeks at my in-laws cabin. But it is also travelling. I don't think I wear my maple leaf proudly enough day to day when I am at home. I think I take for granted how wonderful our 'Home and Native Land' is. But flying over oceans, listening to airplane instructions in Dutch and knowing the next time I touch down will be in South Africa, has me feeling all warm and fuzzy to be a Canadian. That's not a bad way to start an adventure! I am currently waiting at the Amsterdam airport for our next KLM flight to Joburg. The flight here was completely hassle free. I know it is not the greatest photo in the world, but check out the box they served our breakfasts in. It doesn't get much better than that!

On my way!

I was dropped at the airport yesterday (thanks for the ride Syl!). It is for real now; I am really on my way to Lesotho to collect, tell, hear and trade stories! I was talking to my friend Jeff before I left and told him I was a bit anxious about being able to find the right stories. He said, "Don't worry, it is already a good story".                                                                                                                                          That's an excellent point.

Good Words

One of the things I love most about Guelph is the number of incredible artists, musicians and writers this city continues to nurture and support. One of my favourite writers here in town is journalist, poet and painter Rob O'Flanagan. I am a big fan of his newspaper work and his commitment to telling good stories. This morning we met for a coffee and an interview. At Planet Bean (another of my favourite things about Guelph). I am not sure when it will be up but you can find it at Guelph Today.
Thank you Rob for your time, your support and for your incredible words!

Expectations

I have no idea what to pack as I have no idea what to expect.
I have been told I will be overwhelmed by the beauty of the place and of the people, but equally as overwhelmed by the suffering and the pain I will see and experience. I have been told I will have my heart broken and my guts ripped out, but also be changed irreversibly by bearing witness to the boundless joy they live with.
How do you pack for that?

HOPE :The Tune Without The Words

I am trying to come up with a solid definition of what hope actually is before I go. These should help.

The Dictionary says:
"Hope (a verb), To want something to happen or to be true and think it could be happen or be true."

The Psalmist says:
"Be strong and take heart, all you who have hope in the Lord."

The poet says:
"Hope is the thing with feathers-
That perches in the soul-
And sings the tune without the words-
And never stops-at all-

And sweetest-in the gale-is heard-
And sore must be the storm-
That could abash the little Bird-
That kept so many warm-

I've heard it in the chilliest land-
And on the strangest Sea-
Yet-never-in extremity-
It asked a crumb of me.

The comedian says:
"Hope is not 'The thing with feathers'. The thing with feathers turns out to be my nephew. I must take him to a specialist in Zurich."

One week!

Wow, one week. In one week I am going to Lesotho to collect, tell and trade stories. This is one of those opportunities that is a little overwhelming. I hope I do it right. Thanks to Eigenworks, Rockscape Design, the Guelph Community Foundation and Timbres Community Church for joining in and making this happen. I hope I do it right.

Why storytelling?

I have been asked a few times what exactly I will be doing and how I will be using (telling and collecting) stories while I am in Lesotho. In a face to face conversation it is easy to talk about the power and beauty of a story well told, and what I intend to do, however, I struggle putting it into a paragraph just so. For the sake of this blog I will use the following quote instead. I think it does a wonderful job of providing the answer to: "Why stories?"

"Stories open doors to areas or aspects of life that we didn't know were there, or had quit noticing out of over familiarity, or supposed were out of bounds to us. They then welcome us in. Stories are verbal acts of hospitality".
Eugene Petersen