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There was a gap. The gap was filled by early morning, busy days, cultural exchanges, work, children, amazing programs, absorbing commonalities and differences of two new countries, digesting being in the heat after many days of cold, smiles and laughter, traffic, exhaustion, stuffed bellies and hungry bellies, very long car rides, water consumption, reading, and late nights. It feels so great to hear from folks who ask where the blog is. It’s hard to write post a long trip, but I’ll do my best. Like my last post, I’ll have to omit some things because I would like to keep this about my experience outside of work.

The trip was the longest we’ve ever taken as an organization, 16 days including travel. We stayed in a total of 5 cities and visited countless programs. Every time I travel for work I reaffirm that it’s so important to see programs in person, if not just to hug the people leading them, and meet the kids whose lives we change. It is so powerful to be a part of such positive transformation. There’s more to say on that, but I’ll leave it at that for now.

In Nairobi we went to an elephant orphanage. The elephants there are orphans due to elephant poaching and parents who have died natural deaths. I learned that elephants grow 6 sets of teeth, which last approximately 10 years each. After the 6th set falls out they slowly die of starvation. Some of the elephants were no taller than my waist. Because elephants are so familial it can take up to 10 years to reintegrate the orphans into a herd. The elephants came out in groups (by age), tempted by huge bottles of milk that they took from the workers, wrapped their trunks around the bottles, and chugged. After, they dipped their trunks in the water troth, sprayed mud and dirt on their backs, rolled in dirt and mud, or took a dip in a huge puddle provided for them. Some people even got sprayed, walking out with a splatter of mud all over them.

A funny story. I posted some pictures of the Elephants on Facebook and mentioned where I was. In a few minutes I got a message from a friend of a friend of mine asking when I was in the sanctuary because she was there that morning. I’m surprised we didn’t see each other there because there were no more than 100 people there that morning. Small world.

After we went to an giraffe sanctuary. You can kiss them! Some people put pellets in their mouth and the giraffe will lick your face to get it off. Ew! I saw it and was quite grossed out. The giraffes were friendly if you had food, otherwise they would move on. We sipped chai with our friend and driver, and bought some souvenirs from a few places, and stopping at many shops where we didn’t buy anything. One such shop was quite interesting. Two women found that there was a problem with discarded flip flops appearing in the ocean. They decided to do something with these colorful pieces of trash and made a business out of it. After a long cleaning and categorization process, the flip flops get turned into sculptures, jewelry, art, and household items such as pencil organizers. It was quite impressive. After making a huge purchase at a local shop we decided that it was probably time to head home.

Besides getting to spend time with the kids and women in our programs we get to spend time with the people who implement the program, the folks that and my coworker Skype with on a regular basis. Being person, seeing someone in the flesh, getting an uninterrupted conversation with them, seeing them without a screen that delays words and sounds, makes so much of a difference. I wish I could meet everyone who runs our programs. It’s amazing.

Nairobi has a dry heat, even when it rains, it doesn’t feel humid. We went to a few smaller villages, one was on an island, exploring the countryside in the process. Many days were spent in a car, getting to one remote location after another. The traditional huts are made out of dung, but many buildings are made out of brick. It’s obvious if a man has more than one wife because there are different houses on the property to indicate. The first wife will have the house in the middle, the entrance faces outwards. The following wives have houses to the right then left, their entrances also facing outwards. The sons houses face each other, and are closer to the main road. They come before the main house, and the wives houses because they are there to protect their families.

To get to one location we ended up driving after dark. It was pitch black out, the road was a dirt road with rocks. Kenyans do not drive slow. I can imagine driving on such a road in the US with an American driver and we would probably do 15mph. We were doing between 60-80kph. It’s just the way driving is done. The other car, with some of our partners in it, got a flat tire and we had to stop and change it.

The incident that it the main culprit for the lack of blogging happened because of a boat ride. For one program we went to an island on a small passenger boat. We were in the middle of Lake Victoria (which seems far from a lake because it is so huge) for a few hours in total. We took the passenger boat to one part of the island, and transferred boats to a smaller fishing boat (still not too small) to take us to the other side of the island where we would visit a school. It took a little longer than intended to get there so we had to rush through our program at the school so that we could make it in time to catch the ferry back. Our partner was in contact with the ferry and about 10 minutes before we reached the boarding point, we saw the ferry slightly in the distance, leaving us on our fishing boat. Without batting an eyelid, our driver said it was fine and he would refuel and take us the whole way. Besides wanting to be on the ferry, it was important that we get back early because later in the afternoon the water gets choppier and the ride back could be less than pleasant.

The ride was lovely. It was nice to be in a smaller boat that contained just our team. The landscape was beautiful. And who doesn’t like to be in the boat in the middle of a beautiful lake? So we traveled in our smaller boat and rode out the waves with the skill of our driver, slowing down and speeding up to bend with the wind. We all marveled at his skill, noting that this was skill built over time, growing up with the lake as your friend and companion. The hiccup came while attempting to dock, we only attempted because we never really made it to docking. The water was quite rough at this point in the inlet and as the waves pushed us in, the boat got a little shaky and as we approached the sand, I jumped out as the boat rocked away from the shore. Some escaped with a splash, and some got soaked, and some of our computers also got wet. Our driver also lost his rudder, which he ended up finding after doing some diving.

The next day we drove to our next location which was also a smaller village. The hotel consisted of small cottages for one or two people. It was rustic. You could hear crickets and see the stars. It was lovely. The next day we drove across the border, which makes me feel a little badass. The process was pretty seamless; our passports got stamped, the car paperwork got process, we exchanged money and were on our way. The Ugandan landscape wasn’t much different at first; both countries have landscape that changes quickly, from red mud, brown mud, and luscious green grass and fields. At some point in Uganda there was a forrest where baboons lined the road throughout.

One of our partners speaks 8 local languages. These aren’t dialects, but rather, languages. I can’t remember how many languages they said there are in Uganda, but there are definitely over 20. Like everywhere, I loved seeing the kids, seeing our partners in action, and getting to be there in person. We had one day where we were able to see some touristy things so we went to the Gaddafi Mosque and the Lubiri Palace. The Gaddafi Mosque is name that because Gaddafi donated a lot of money to build it. Usually women aren’t allowed into the main part of the mosque where men pray, but here we were, but not before a transformation where we put on a skirt and hijab. The woman who dressed us, Amina, was super friendly, as was Mohammad, our tour guide. We not only got a great tour of the mosque, which has stained glass from Italy, metal from Germany, wood from Uganda, and Arabic art, but also a short history of Kampala.

That afternoon we went to the Lubriri palace that is no longer lived in by the King of the Buganda Kingdom because there was so much bloodshed there. We learned of the various kings and how they each exiled each other and the one king who tortured his opponents. You cannot enter the palace, but the tour takes you around the grounds. There were some dark clouds in the distance as we walked through the living quarters of the king’s servants and guards down to the old dungeon and torture chamber. The closer we got, the closer the clouds got. We walked down to the dungeon and learned how there was a gate that contained electrocuted water and each cell would have over 100 prisoners who died together due to starvation (more or less). The last cell had markings of hands and feet scrapings along the wall. I tried to think of how awful that was and how could humans do this each other so recently, but then i thought that we still do this to each other, all over the world, we’re all guilty.

I know this is a less than complete picture of the trip. There are fun things, things that I felt comforting like driving on the left side of the road, the food was amazing too. We had fish several times, fresh water tilapia, cooked in different styles, each time amazing. They have chapati that are more like West Indian Roti. You can see the influence of India all over. In the 70s the Indians were kicked out of Uganda by one of the kings, but their influence stayed through food. Some words like duniya and kitab are similar in Hindi and Swahili so I felt like I got some things, sometimes.

There’s more, but that’s all I have for now. I hope you enjoyed! 

What to when you have such a whirlwind trip, but to start at the end, and then jump around from event to event until you cover everything, or at least, almost everything.

We left this afternoon in a van. I’m never allowed to just go to the airport on my own. Everyone comes to drop me. The group of us: Manoj, Arjun, Ratan, Sagar, Ritesh and I hopped into a Taravan from Ritesh and Sagar’s house. It’s what we do. The trip couldn’t start without visiting my misil pav guy to pick up ladoos for home. His ladoos are so yummy. We also stopped for some chas. When I went there last time I took a bunch of pictures. He knows that I love the food. I was treated like another regular. We drank our chas and I packed up some ladoos and got his card. I would love to send him the picture of us when I get back home. He charged me market price. He didn’t have to. If you’re lucky (and live in New York) I might even share one with you.

We were off and barely hit any traffic until we got to Mumbai. We stopped to get a snack on the road. I got bhel of course and some sabudana kitedi. Oh food how I will miss you. We were about 10 minutes away from the airport when the police pulled over our van. My flight had been delayed but I wasn’t ready to risk the traffic and tempt fate by passing away time getting stopped by a police officer. Boy, was I wrong! The driver was told to get out. It must have been a funny site for the officers to see a foreign girl with 5 Indian guys in a van. We got out one by one but the officers seemed calm and said just one minute when we told them about my flight. Apparently, our calm and collected driver was drunk. Ratan and Manoj both confirmed his breath wreaked of alcohol. We had no idea. He drove really well and all we can think of is how lucky we were that nothing happened. What did the police do? They got into the drivers seat, and drove us himself to the airport. It was nuts. Thank you Mr. John Sakde of the Mumbai police!

On the way to the airport, Indro called Ratan and I got to see him as I waited until the last moments to check in. We sat in the canteen area eating the last of my skittles and talking about how crazy and lovely the trip was.

I think I want to break this up into sections for the rest of the writing. If you’ve read this before, you’ll probably know that I would like to start with the kids. My friends, I’ve sung their praises so many times. They know, or maybe they don’t, how much they mean to me on so many levels. Don’t blush guys!

A week before coming, I sent a video message on whatsap to the kids. Ritesh delivered and they sent a message back. They’re huge, they’ve grown so much, but I didn’t realize how shocking it would be until I met them in person. The day I reached Pune I met them. I love them so much. They’re the same. Ishwar is much more of a leader. He’s quiet, pensive, and smiles as much as he used to. Ganesh is still crazy, a comedian, but much more toned down. He’s grown up. He’s polite with sorrys and thank yous and has also become more of a leader. Prakash is the one who I would say changed the most. He has a small mustache and seems much more grown up then the others. Chapel is a young man! He doesn’t wear his hat anymore, but rather has a nice clean cut. He has acne (which one of the other boys asked me why he had), and is a little more outgoing (just a little). The other little ones who were always around but not one of the four are also more grown up. All except Ajay and Aftab who look almost exactly the same, and behave the same too. They’re younger. Anyway, on the first day Ishwar wanted to know when we would be coming back. I said I don’t know and that we would come on Sunday and figure it out from there. He suggested that we should come every day. We did. It was great. I was speaking with Manoj and we were discussing how this time we felt much more a part of the community. The moms and older sisters were always friendly, but the ones who we know were much more inviting. We faced some obstacles from one of the drunk guys in the community who tried to intervene when I was passing out some postcards. He wanted one, I had a limited amount for just the kids. He spoke very good English. He wanted to know what we were doing and saying that he would take one. I explained that it was for the kids and not for him. After he yelled a little, Ishwar was ready to hand over his, but I didn’t let him. They shouldn’t submit to bullying. Eventually he was ushered away by some of the young men who we’ve made friends with, but not without a dirty look. That was the only trouble though. Ishwar and Ganesh’s mom were the same as were Ganesh’s sisters. A girl joined us on the last day. Yelama has always been around, she comes out every time we’re around, but has never come to the garden where we play; no girl has. The last day she did. She’s a gem.

We either just hung out by their houses or went to the park each day. It didn’t matter, we would shift from conversations within and between age levels. They’re a great group of friends; they take care of each other. One day we just sat in the park and talked, did some capoeira (they still remember), and played around. The next day we came earlier in the day and sat in the sand pit. Some boys had outlined a wrestling circle and were wrestling. Our kids sat down and started drawing in the sand. Soon, all the kids were drawing in the sand. It was so great to watch such a transformation.

It was Ganesh’s birthday and we sat in Ishwar’s house and clicked pictures, sat with all the kids, and talked. Ishwar and Ganesh wanted to make us chai. We didn’t allow them. We brought Ganesh a cake and cut it with him. It’s the tradition to feed a piece to the birthday person and wipe some icing on their face. By the end, we all had a little icing on our faces. Everyone got some cake.

Today I had to say goodbye again. It’s never easy and now even thinking of it there are tears welting in my eyes. We went to the park to draw. A friend of a friend of mine gave me some really good designs as a part of a project. People around the world color them in. A group of us sat in the park, way past its closing time (it closes as 10:00am till 4:00pm). The watchwomen let us stay. We walked back, Yelama on one side, Ishwar on my other. We hung out in the community a bit longer, taking out the sketch pens and papers, a lot of them were distributed to the extended family of kids. It was time to go and Ishwar also had to go to school. He has a cycle now. We said our goodbyes to the families and the smaller kids and walked with the main ones up to the road. Ishwar had tears in his eyes, which brought tears to my eyes. They are really special, near and dear to me. There aren’t words for it. Ishwar is in 10^th standard now. Next year, college! Ganesh and Prakash will graduate in the next two years. I hope to see them before that.

If you made it to here I have an update:

I was under strict instructions to call Ishwar today at 9:30pm his time. I called early just in case and someone else picked up. When I asked for Ishwar the man said it was too early and I would have to call back at 9:30. He uses other people’s phones in his community. I called back and he picked up right away. We talked for almost 10 minutes giving each other updates on what has happened in the past couple of days.

More to come about the rest of the trip soon!

I’m back, yes, again. Although I’m in Ahmedabad and I’m working, it’s like I never left. Getting into the car I didn’t blink twice when we were driving on the left side of the road, at the horns, at the crazy driving, the smells, the sounds, or the language. It was really as if I was here just the other day. I was shocked.

I was privileged enough to meet some amazing individuals in Jordan. Without going into too much detail, I have met some amazing people who are dedicated to young people, to reading, to seeing them grow, and build a better future than they were afforded. It’s funny that despite language, culture, religion, age, color, or any other factor that can be used to divide a people, has been completely surpassed, and, embraced by us in order to ensure that young people can learn.
Two days ago we went to the Za’atari Refugee Camp for Syrian refugees. Most of the time I think that I’m not penetrable. I’ve been many places, seen a lot of extreme things (obviously not anything too extreme) but I feel like I’ve been exposed to a lot. The camp was different, completely different. We met with some folks who have been trained in a program and now are leaders in their society. We met people who were professionals, students, folks who had comprehensive lives before they were in the camp. Now they dedicate their time to young people. They are the ones who will lead Syria in the future, so they must be educated. They told us their stories, what their hopes are for themselves and their children, what they would like to return to when they can. The camp has expanded to almost 300,000 when it was made for 20,000 (the figures are approximate) and there are more people coming in every day. There are a lot of organizations, IRC, UNICEF, IRD, and Save the Children, to name a few, that are providing services inside the camp. People are there to support them.
Sometimes, even as someone who likes to write to express their feelings or emotions, I don’t have words. We met a man who was a radiologist who started his own NGO within the camp to support the Syrian youth. We met a woman who didn’t believe you needed school to be educated and who does fascinating work with the children in her community. We met a group of children who were silent as a storyteller read them a book. These individuals have given themselves and their youth purpose and tools to help them build their future, even in a place where either of those things are not so apparent on a day to day basis. I don’t think I can do it justice in my description. On the way back from the camp I cried in the van. I was overwhelmed with emotions and the only way it came out was with tears and I’m still not sure why. I haven’t been shocked, or overwhelmed like that in a very long time.
To decompress I usually have capoeira, and luckily there is a capoeira group in Jordan. It’s a young group, but they are all passionate about capoeira. It was a new experience again, the style of game is slightly different, and the style of teaching was much different than I’m used to. It was truly a day of new experiences. There was one guy in the group who was American and had come to Jordan for rock climbing. He intended to stay for 2 months, and 7 months and a job with the WHO he’s thinking about leaving. The rest of the guys in the group are young Jordanians. They were lovely.
After the class, when one of them asked me how I liked Jordan, I said that I wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I did, that I had been to Israel before and… but he interrupted me very abruptly to say, “Palestine.” I responded that I didn’t make it to that side of the border, and he said Palestine again, saying that it is all their land and was stolen from them. Not wanting to get into a political debate with a new friend, who obviously had very strong opinions, I said yes and said that the British gave it to them and that there was much to discuss about that but for another time and place. He let it go, thankfully. I wonder what would have happened had we continued the conversation. I’m sure we would agree on many issues, but just by that glimpse of a reaction, I’m sure it would be very emotionally driven and we would come with two very different and at some points similar perspectives. I’m not willing to go into it most of the times because I feel like those conversations fragment more than build understanding. I wish that wasn’t the case. The rest of dinner was lovely. We discussed capoeira, watched videos, and talked about the next time we would meet, inshallah.
Yesterday consisted of an all day training with some amazing women. Sometimes things just click; sometimes you just meet the right people. We all said that this trip is the beginning of a new and beautiful relationship that will result in some great work in the future, inshallah. We forged such a strong bond with our new friends that when we went out to dinner we spoke about the next time we meet and the things that we hope to accomplish by then, and the wonderful journeys we will take together. There are many plans in the works. I love it when this happens! We could have sat and talked for hours on end. We are now friends.
There were other work commitments but we also get to enjoy a bit of Jordan and are on our way to Petra. It’s great that we are able to experience not only the culture and people on a professional and personal level but we also get to see one of the new Seven Wonders of the World. A wonder it will be! Pictures will come later.

First impressions of Jordan…
On the flight we ended up next to Lucas who works with Musicians Without Borders. He was an awesome travel companion and we managed to talk about a lot for about half the flight. The second half we all passed out. Jen had a rougher transfer directly from New York to Paris to Jordan. We woke up for the landing, which might be one of the most interesting landings. There were patches of darkness. We think that part of it was part desert, part Palestine with no power. We’re not sure, but it was definitely interesting to see lines of lights (border or highway) and then nothing on one side with lights of a city on the other.
When we got off the plane we met Lucas’ coworker Brendan. Lucas plays the double bass, Brendan the cello. It was nice to have some travel companions for a while, also to meet people who work in a similar field. They’re working with refugees and people in conflict.
At the customs desk they scan your eyes! After they put a pretty visa and stamp in my passport they sent me to another desk to scan my eyes! It was crazy. The man was nice but asked Jen a few more questions and then asked our new friends even more questions. I think we got away more easily because we’re women. We got our bags and were met by Mousa, our driver. We could tell right away that he was going to be quite a character. He spoke in a mix of Arabic and English with us. We decided he would be our moalim, teacher, as well as our driver. He made jokes throughout the ride while helping us work out our schedule.
Jordan was interesting. Like in Paris, there’s an IKEA a few miles right outside the airport. There strips of darkness and then trees. It reminded me of India for a brief moment. We passed by on a strip of highway where there were people who had camped along the side of the road with hookahs and / or food. There were a few tents that you could see had electricity and stuff going on inside, but we drove fast enough that I couldn’t see much.
When we got to Amman West area, Mousa pointed out that it was the very rich area. The houses were huge! There were also a bunch of embassies. The Syrian embassy looked poor and had a barbed wire on the top of the exterior walls. The Saudi Arabian embassy was on the other side of the street. It looked like a palace. Mousa pointed out a Starbucks and both Jen and I couldn’t believe that Starbucks was everywhere. It made me think of Turkish coffee, and after mentioning that to Mousa he stopped on the side of the road at a small shop and got us both some coffee. It was very, very strong, but very tasty.
In the area of the hotel, Mousa pointed out where we could eat and get some juice and then dropped us off. After getting settled, we went out to eat some amazing falafel. Jen, rightly so, didn’t let me take any pictures, but I really want to. The location was outside. We didn’t get any funny looks; Mousa let us know the neighborhood is very, very safe and we could walk out at midnight alone and nothing would happen. We’re not planning on doing that, but it’s nice to know that it’s safe enough that we could. We ate, while scoping out how other people were going about without any utensils. It was really the best falafel I’ve ever had. On our way back we got some tamarind juice but we’re having a hard time drinking it because it’s so sweet. The tea at dinner was also extremely sweet.
Now, we’re back at the hotel and getting ready for our first day and meeting some amazing women from our partner organization.