a chance to make a difference

an email I just sent out.
Dear Family and Friends,

It has been almost two months since we arrived in Maine-Soroa, our village of work.  In that short amount of time we have come to realize that the needs of the people are far greater than we can physically provide here in the field.  I want to share with you two passions I have in Maine; both encompass several different projects where a few dollars can make a real difference.

The first need involves the Barbara Kirker Second Chance School.  For those who don't know, it is the school where I am teaching ESL to 90 some students, ages 9-14. Barbara Kirker started this school because, for whatever reason, these kids could not enroll in school at 6, 7 or 8 years of age. The Nigerien government has a law stating that if a child is not in school by age 8l,≥ one may not enter school, ever.  The Barbara Kirker school provides an opportunity for kids to complete 6 years of schooling in 4 years in the hopes that these students will be able to matriculate in with their peers at the next educational level.  The kids are amazing and truly want to learn but have no real supplies to speak of.  Below is a list of "wants" which could help the students reach their goal--attaining an education.  Some items have dollar amounts; further information is needed before supplying the remaining amounts. 

Pens: $6/box

Notebooks: .$50-1.50 each

Chalk: $5/box

Mini Blackboards: $1

Wall Clocks: $10

Transformers/Regulators: $25-50

TV and DVD Player: $300

Globes

Maps

Computer Programs

Book Shelves

School Bell

Projector and Screen

French and English Books (I have a real burden to start a school library, especially since the literacy rate in Niger is less than 20%.  However, these are the only supplies that we can't really buy in country, therefore shipping costs would be another expense.)

The second passion is the Kirker Hospital "cafeteria."  I put it in italics because to call this space a cafeteria is to grossly exaggerate, however it is run by 5 amazing individuals who do their best with what they have, trying to serve 3 nutritional meals per day to patients and their families.  Every meal is cooked over a fire with well used pots.  The workers do everything, sorting beans, rice, corn, etc. to get rid of bugs and any other unwelcomed particles, preparing the food, delivering food to patients and families, and finally cleaning up.  It is hard work, especially in 100 plus degree heat.  We are trying to raise money for a small electric stove, but electricity is unreliable; we need other options.  The kitchen staff have a small gas stove but gas is expensive; therefore, gas is rarely used. The use of coal is encouraged. Alas, wood is the fuel most often used; this contributes to deforestation, an extremely large problem in the desert. It would be best to have several options for cooking.  Often food supplies run low.  This problem will most likely be accentuated, in the next few months, as this region of Niger was recently placed on a famine watch.  Below is a list of "wants" and the prices.

Electric Stove: $60-100

Gas: $15-30

Coal, 1 50 kilo sack which lasts 1 week: $5

Pots: $5-20

Large Soup Ladle: $6-10

Rice, 1 50 kilo sack which lasts 1 week: $45

Corn, 1 50 kilo sack which lasts 15 days: $20

Sorghum, 1 100 kilo sack which lasts 15 days: $40

Millet, 1 100 kilo sack which lasts 15 days: $30

As you can see, a few dollars can truly make a big difference.  

If you are interested in making a tax-deductible donation please visit the AHI, Adventist Health International, website at:

http://www.adventisthealthinternational.org/article.php?id=27

After clicking on the above link make sure that you follow the directions in the "please note" section, indicating that you want your contribution to go to Niger's Second Chance School or Niger's Kirker Hospital Cafeteria.  

We have also set up a Facebook page for the school and will soon be partnering with a website called AFRCN APPRL, http://www.afrcn.com/

where you can buy very cool clothes and have a part of the proceeds benefit the school.  If you go to their website and click blog, you will see a piece that I have written for them.  They are in the process of updating their "projects" to include the Barbara Kirker Second Chance School.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.  If you would like to see pictures pertaining to these projects please visit my Facebook page or my blog (the link is below.)  If you have any questions or want more information email me!

Love,

Kari 

kmhart76@hotmail.com

http://4wanderingsouls.blogspot.com/

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better.  It's not.  ~Dr. Seuss

Up To This Point...

So the writing every week on this blog thing has not been successful, as you can tell.  I think my problem is that I feel like I must pass on some great nugget of wisdom every time I write and most days I don't have any such thing ready at my fingertips.  I am going to give up that notion starting right now.  Please forgive me if this blog does not change your life.

It has been a non-stop adventure ever since I last wrote. Here is a brief rundown of the events up to this point (please read as the one, long run on sentence it is, since that is how it has felt):

said another round of goodbyes to our new friends in Niamey, welcomed the 3 other members of our team to niger, packed our stuff, 12 people, and 2 cats into 3 vehicles and made the 800 mile trek across the sub-sahara desert, arrived in Maine-Soroa after two very long days, settled in and within a week were experiencing a coup d’etat of the president who supported the hospital and school where we were beginning work, went to nigeria to visit the emir, were officially welcomed to Maine, said goodbye to the kirkers, really started work, soon uncovered lots of problems which will only be solved through time and patience, experienced crazy dust storms, entered the hot season, welcomed my mother for a month long visit, bought 125 cc motos and are learning to ride in the sand, and amongst all these events trying to comprehend 5 different languages, be culturally and spiritually sensitive as well as taking every day as it comes and honoring it for what it brings.  

The true measure of a man is not how he behaves in moments of comfort and convenience but how he stands at times of controversy and challenges. - martin luther king

devotion

i love words. i think i have loved them ever since i learned how to read. but i think that love was also solidified in 4th grade when any time that i finished my reading skills or studypaks early my teacher would have me complete the WordPower in Reader's Digest. i definitely love words, especially learning new ones.

devotion is not a new word per se as i of course have heard it numerous times in my life and have some sort of a grasp of its meaning. however, since moving to Niger, a mostly Muslim country, i have witnessed a daily spiritual devotion unlike any other i have seen. now i am not saying that Islam is the "right" religion or condoning its beliefs, i am simply writing about their prayerful devotion. and those who argue that it is all motion and nothing spiritual i would say, judge not, lest you be judged.

devotion in websters words is:

de⋅vo⋅tion

  [di-voh-shuhn]

–noun

1.	profound dedication; consecration.

2.	earnest attachment to a cause, person, etc.

3.	an assignment or appropriation to any purpose, cause, etc.:the devotion of one's wealth and time to scientific advancement.

4.	Often, devotions. Ecclesiastical. religious observance or worship; a form of prayer or worship for special use.

Synonyms: 2. zeal, ardor. See love.

i have been on the periphery of muslim prayer numerous times since arriving here, been woken up many mornings by the call to prayer and witnessed hundreds of people stop what they are doing and begin to pray. but it wasn't until i was visiting our friend lily in the clinic that i actually stopped and stared. i was glancing out the window when i heard the noon call to prayer and noticed a gentleman in the garden begin his preparations. i was riveted because i knew he couldn't see me and even though i felt like an intruder on something very private i could not stop watching. for the next 25, 30 minutes i was thoroughly moved by his devotion to prayer. he laid out his mat, performed ablutions, which involves thorough cleaning of the hands, face, mouth, nose, arms and feet and then proceeded to pray, which included many recitations, standing up, kneeling, and prostrating. knowing he did this 5 times a day made it even more intriguing. now one can argue his motives, his level of spiritualness, his honor or integrity but his devotion for prayer is obvious. he consciously makes a decision 5 times, everyday, to stop what he is doing, wherever he may be and pay tribute to his God. if that isn't profound dedication i don't know what is.

i like to think i am devoted to my God, to my husband and children, to family and friends, to making a difference in this world. but i know i have not been devoted to prayer in a way like that man portrayed. i have to stop and wonder what would happen to my spiritual life or to the above mentioned "devoteds" if i was that conscious of prayer time? i am quite certain my life would change dramatically in the sense that i would truly become devoted to those good things in life that are worth being devoted to, number 1 being my God who has blessed me with all the other good things i think i am devoted to.

the most beautiful part of webster's definition comes in the last synonym, love. if i could be truly devoted to prayer where i am consciously dedicating sections of my day to acknowledge and thank the one who placed me on this earth, an abundance of love, overflowing in all areas of my life, would come naturally.

not knowing what that prayer time meant to that particular man, i am still grateful to him for showing me a deep yearning and need to be more devoted in mine. my word for 2010, devoted.

Letter of Love

Dear Rian,

You turned 6 today! That is very hard for mommy to believe. It seems like just yesterday daddy was driving like a crazy person through Denver to get us to a hospital so you could be delivered. And then you came out with fluid in your lungs and we had to spend that stressful week in the hospital leading up to Thanksgiving. I remember sitting in the nursery watching you sleep in the incubator wanting to cry all the time because they couldn't find good veins (just like your mom in that) to draw blood and you had been stuck over and over. And here we are, 6 years later celebrating your birthday in Niger, Africa. Who would have thought?!

I am so proud of the young lady you are becoming. You have a genuine heart that cares about others and wants to do good. You love God and his creations. You are my first born and my only daughter. I love you more than life itself. I know at times I can be hard on you, when you don't obey, or talk back, or act like a baby, but it is simply because I am scared that I am not doing a good enough job as your mother, to prepare you for the life to come. I want you to be a strong, independent yet not too much that you don't accept help from others when needed, well rounded, intelligent woman of God.

When I first heard the name Rian for a girl I thought if I ever have a girl, thats what I want her name to be. And here you are, turning 6! You have been so brave, moving to a completely different place than you are used to. You started school in the middle of the year with kids you knew nothing about and now have great friends. You accepted the fact that mom and dad had to go to class in the evenings and you had to stay with Biba, helping your brother with the adjustment as well. I can only hope that this "african experience" will provide you with wonderful memories and a recognition and acceptance of those different from you. And a desire to know more than what your own small world encompasses. I may never know how this life altering change affects you but pray that it is for the better.

Rian, you are like me in many ways but I hope that you nurture the good traits and let the bad ones fall away. I do not know what the world will be like when you are older but I pray that wherever you may be, that space will be better because of your presence and that those you are in contact with will be blessed for knowing you. May your life be filled with compassion, humility, forgiveness, perseverance, gratitude, faith, honesty, generosity, respect, courage, discipline, virtue and patience.

I love you baby, today and always. And to quote one of our favorite books, "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as you're living my baby you'll be."

With love,

mommy

laying the foundation

we want so much for our kids, good health, contentment and joy in life, courage, an honest nature, the desire to help those less fortunate, a spiritual fortitude, and those are just somewhere in the middle of the "i want for my kids" list.

but what i wanted last friday for my daughter, Rian, was a competitive drive. for those who know me, that will come as no surprise. she came home thursday night, yammering away about the school's field day which was taking place the next day at the big football (soccer for the Americans) stadium in town. the whole school had been divided into teams and then

individuals signed up for various events. they had been practicing, making up cheers and rousing up team morale. only for a brief moment that night as Rian was talking did i think that

maybe she wasn't feeling up to it. and that came when she was listing the events she was participating in and off handedly said that when she ran the 50 yard dash she would probably be last or next to last as there was one girl slower than her. derrek and i immediately launched into the appropriate parents speech about it doesn't matter who wins but that you try and that you have fun and that you do your best and that no one is a loser, blah blah blah blah, gag me with a spoon. i am all about winning, well usually.

and apparently our speech didn't really do any good because the next morning as rian was eating breakfast before school, she burst into tears and said she didn't want to go to field day. i of course was surprised and asked why? to which she responded because i will be last in everything! there it was, the honest truth laid out. and what as a parent do you do with that? well, i launched into the whole appropriate parents speech again, saying that she had practiced

too hard to not go and her team would want her there and it didn't matter if she came in last as long as she had fun and tried, blah blah blah! but in hindsight i have realized that being the competitive athlete that i was (in my younger years) i never had to experience that feeling of coming in last or being picked last for a team or any of that because i liked sports and i wanted to try hard. that doesn't mean that i didn't lose because i have and it hurts, especially when you are competitive, but i couldn't relate to my daughters sinking feeling of coming in last. and yet i didn't stop and explore that i just gave her the pep talk.

rian did go to field day and when we showed up she was standing in line waiting to compete in the standing long jump, joking around with her friends. but as soon as she saw mom, she

became "my little girl," not wanting to leave my side, needing my help for everything. what is it with moms?! she did her best in that jump and then did quite well in the relay race, but when it came time for the gunnysack race she became a puddle of tears on her first fall, calling out for me. the competitive spirit rose up in me and i tried to get her to get up and keep going, i didn't want her to quit, i wanted her to do her best, i wanted her to win. but looking back i think more than anything i wanted her to look good for me, i wanted other parents to ooh and ahh over my not yet 6 athletic daughter. hindsight is revealing.

after the gunnysack fiasco i managed to pry her off me and send her back to her peers, laughing and clowning around. it dawned on me that maybe my daughter wouldn't be an athlete and i was ok with that but there are lots of things that i do want for her and in order for those to come to fruition i need to do a better job at laying the foundation. possibly instead of launching into an appropriate parent speech actually have a conversation about real feelings and what to do with them.

Celebrations

birthdays have always been a big deal to me. i remember as a kid planning months in advance what i would do on my special day, who i would invite, where we would go, if there was going to be a theme and on and on. i probably drove my mom crazy. and even as an adult i have liked celebrating birthdays. so before we moved to africa i wondered what it would be like celebrating birthdays there. however, after experiencing our first birthday celebration "in country" last week, myles' 4th, i have revamped my ideas of a great birthday!

the morning of the 11th started out as any other as i got rian ready for school. but as a sentimental/emotional mom i was deep in thought about how i birthed this crazy boy four years ago and now he was missing out on an "american" birthday. rian told myles he could only open one present before she left and then had to wait to open the rest after she got home later that day. don't ask me how she got him to agree to that but she did. he opened the one present we bought here, which was a scooter made out of tin cans and various other metal objects. he loved it! after sending rian on her way we lavished love on myles, read him books, played games, showed him the birth video, ok just kidding, we didn't do that. i haven't even watched that one! and then i asked if he wanted to bake his own cake. he was beyond excited!

so we spent the next hour and a half attempting and in the end succeeding at baking our first cake from scratch. it was great fun. not only did myles get to help mommy in the kitchen but he got to drink Fanta and lick the bowl clean of batter! according to him, who could ask for more? but he got more. he got to open the few little treats i had brought from the states

when his sister arrived from school. he blew up balloons and played with those (in fact i am still finding them around the house and he is still playing with them.) and that evening we went to the "african chuck-e-cheese" as our friends the Brooks call it.

cocochou land is basically a beach (minus the water) with playground equipment, some tables to eat at and a menu that has french fries, meat, crepes and a few other things. oh, they did have a cotton candy machine! but again what more could a kid want? we enjoyed the evening with the Brooks, ending it with a rousing rendition of happy birthday in english and french (thanks to maggie!)

my fears that my son would have a lousy birthday were set aside when someone asked him if he had fun and he said, "it was the best birthday ever!" ok, so he didn't say those exact words but that is what i heard amongst the contented sighs, coming to the conclusion that birthdays can be wonderfully celebrated no matter where you are, as long as you have family and/or friends around that love you (and maybe a fanta!)

The 3 hour tour...about

A week ago we decided it was time to see the hippos. Our friends James, Katie and Krista had procured a "boat" by way of a local who kept running into them in the markets offering to take them out on le fleuve, Niger. For a small price of course. We begged to join them, thinking that would be a great way to spend Halloween in Africa!

Saturday evening found us carefully picking our way through what seemed to be a plant nursery to get to the edge of the river. Our guide had informed James that since there was a bigger group we would be taking the boat with a motor as opposed to just the one you paddle. And when we saw the boat that seemed smart because we are not talking about a small motorboat or canoe. This beast was at least 40 or 50 ft long. It was carved out of several pieces of wood. There were boards placed on either end to sit on plus 6 or 7 twin mattresses laid out in the middle. A covering over the mattresses was formed by sticks jammed into the sides of the boat with a myriad of materials used as covering. Which we discovered to be very helpful in blocking the beating sun from our bodies. We all maneuvered onto the mattresses and sat and waited for our guide to find some gas, trying not to notice the quantities of water that were slowly seeping into the bottom of the boat.

On his return the guide, the "driver," and a boy begun to push the boat out of its resting place where it was lodged significantly amongst a forest of water plants. Implying that his tour company had been lacking business. The driver up front was furiously ripping water plants out of our way while the guide in the back tried pushing underwater with a very long stick. This took awhile, with comments like, "if I were a hippo, I would be right here eating all these plants," or "are there crocs in le fleuve, Niger?" Once the boat was released from the water jungle, the motor was magically started and we were off.

It truly felt like we were in a Planet Earth movie. Floating down the river, passing under the bridge, watching men fling large pumpkins from a dugout canoe onto the side of the river, women washing their clothes, kids buck naked splashing around and us with our eyes peeled for hippos and of course the water filling the bottom of the boat. Which before long we realized was the purpose of the boy on board, to bail the water out with a small metal can.

We headed downriver about 20 minutes before our guide started gesturing back behind us. And sure enough a few minutes later a hippo head poked up, just revealing two small ears, two beady eyes and the top of a large nose. They wanted to keep their distance so we were about 100 feet away, not good picture taking since we didn't think it best to bring our nice big lens and camera but we could definitely tell it was a hippo. We watched that one for a few more minutes then motored a little bit farther down the river where we were able to see several more.

It was turning into an amazing evening. The sun was low, it had cooled off a bit, we were lounging in an authentic African boat and we were enjoying the hippo sighting. The guide had cut the motor so we could just float. The sun started to move lower however and so he told the driver to start on our return. It was at that point that I intently watched the driver start the motor unsuccessfully, possibly due to the fact that he started it by wrapping a piece of rope around the engine several times and pulled with all his might, which seems legit, until you see the rope come off after he yanks it because it is not attached to the motor! A few more tries to no avail. The guide crawls from one end of the boat to the other to try his hand at starting it, to no avail. At this point I must insert that when the African sun starts to set, it does so immediately. One moment it is light, the next moment it is dark.

None of us aboard are the type to panic, so we tried to remain calm, for the children aboard of course. Here we were out in the middle of the river, surrounded by hippos and who knows what else, about 30 minutes away from our entry point, with no motor and the African sun saying goodnight! As I mentioned in a previous blog, nothing happens fast in Africa but the next thing we know there is another dugout canoe alongside ours with about 15 people in it and one of the men has gracefully leapt from that boat to ours. It happened so fast we didn't even see him jump. Therefore, I guess some things do happen fast like arranging for a mechanic in the middle of the Niger river when you have 7 annassara in your boat and the sun is setting. Don't ask, I don't have any idea.

Well, fortunately the current had picked up while all this was taking place and we were at least moving towards our destination. The "on site" mechanic couldn't get the motor started though. So we started paddling, well the africans and james started paddling, using a board he ripped out of its place as a seat. And wouldn't you know it, we got to our entry point but went right on passed it. They couldn't paddle across the river to nose into where we had come out, so the current kept taking us. One of them joked, "nous allons au Niger!"

Needless to say they got the motor started just as we were all losing hope, maneuvered somehow over to the edge where we interrupted a group of boys swimming, who hastily grabbed their clothes and scrambled back up the rocks and our hippo tour came to an end. It was pitch dark at this point so walking back through a village and climbing up the side of a hill for a shortcut back to town was just the icing on the adventure. However, I don't think any of us would have traded that experience for dressing up as ghosts and goblins to collect candy.

And the best part was relaying this story to my mom via skype and watching her hold her head in her hands, shaking it back and forth in disbelief and unwarranted fright, as we did all arrive safely home.