Wednesday, 4 April 2012

We don't need another hero.

There is totally Hope here. Thank GOD ... because I was starting to arm myself up with nerves of steel and a metaphorical suit of armour. I can drop that.

I am ok - really. Some of you know me more than I know myself, keep telling me to be careful and protect my heart. (How *does* one protect their heart? Shut it off so it doesn't feel?) My blessed jetlag is saving my arse, giving me a buffer zone of haziness ... last night I skyped my boys which was cool. When I first got here I was all, my boys! How could I leave them how are they oh mah gawwwdd.

When I saw how the children here are living? My boys are FINE, man. They are wearing clean clothes, have clean water, food and friends and love and too many toys. They live like princes. Their cups overfloweth, and I am not worried one shred more about them.

The children here accept things their white western counterparts would not, which is both amazing and sad.

Every day we travel out into the field. About a two and a half hour trip each way in a jeep. I'm like ... seriously? But - it's bumpy and uncomfortable! SO worried I was getting sick because my lungs felt congested and my throat sore and dry ... but it's just breathing in all the dust. Africa is in me, like I am in it.

We get to these places and the sweat drips down my back and it's uncomfortable and hot and kind of sucky. I have a stance here ... it's called the Dorky Pigeon-toed Stance. I do it when I am unsure. Like, I'm in Africa??


I watch Good deeds, manifested by Good people actually doing the hard work. And other Good people back home in their safe houses, donating and caring. It is all making a difference. I have seen it with my own dusty eyes. We need more help and more Good.

I believe that if you give of yourself in the world - your time, your energy, or of course your money ... the Spirit behind your motive for giving is more powerful than you think. When I see a bum in the street, I always give money. I don't question his motives ... what he does with the money is entirely up to him. (Or her. Being a bum is an equal opportunity employer.) They might be buying booze or drugs with it? So bloody what. I'm not going to stand there, weighing up the pros and frickin' cons. I can spare the gold dollar .. I'm not the one standing there begging. You think that person *likes* standing there asking for money? No. If you can give, you give. It should be some Universal Human law.

Which brings me to other ways you can help. Someone just left a comment saying they had pulled out photos of their two sponsored children and placed them on the fridge, in full view. YES. That.

You can also:

* Start a dialogue with your children about how people struggle in other parts of the world. When you open a dialogue, you open their eyes.

* Give gold coins to bums. Why? Because they are not robbing your house, they are begging instead. Kudos, man.

* Don't waste food.

* Care more. About everything. Wake the hell up, oh beautiful blinkered ones! Life is real!

* Touch feet with people you love.

In Bali I got the word "redemption" tattooed on my arm. Didn't make sense until this week ... my whole twenties I was a turd. Doing selfish, excessive, stupid things. No good to anybody ... ask my sisters and mum. I was a useless no-good arsehole. Using anything and anyone to get as far away from myself as possible, jumping from rehab to rehab like a rehab-jumpin' fool.

I don't think there are any rehabs in Africa. People are too busy - you know, struggling to SURVIVE.








That feet photo is one of my favourite photos I've ever taken. Some ladies were spread out before us on a mat, next to a translator. Their feet were all touching ... they were self-conscious and nervous, so doing this probably made them feel better. LOVE. IT.





I just sat here for TWO HOURS waiting for my video to upload and there was a communication error. Entirely too frustrating .. am having a first world problem in a third world country. Hey ... where's the second world? Did I miss one? AM SO IGNORANT. And all these other pics I wanted to upload aren't working but now I have to rush downstairs to start another Big Day. I keep making the people wait for me, because I am a bumbling, late fool. They are so gracious. Turning forty recently has made me accept that no matter how hard I try, I will never be as organised as most people. I'm down with that.

This BBC article HERE is one of the best written about what's going on in this country. Um, can somebody please read it and email me through some facts about it? Asking for a friend.

Lastly, I begged our World Vision Africa correspondent Adel to please take me to a supermarket so I could buy some junk food. Needed to dive naked into a vat of cheese and bacon balls .... to swim in a sea of doritos and prawn crackers and the carbiest carbs in the land.


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I used my head in this photo, for scale.

Told you I was ok.

PS I purposely kept the tone of this post light. There will be hard-hitting full-on ones coming up soon. Worried that people think I don't take this seriously ... worried about what the people coming to my blog for the first time will think of me. But, if we all worried about what people thought of us, we would be on our guards all the time and not get shit done, not say anything at all.

I'm off to get shit done, in a caring, bumbling, tattooed, redemptive way. Hope you're down with that.



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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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