Food Project in Saint Marc, Haiti

It looks like the overly-large picture of our part of our team is the only thing that made it! So sorry. Writing a second time is never quite the same. In addition: all the other pictures posted went into some ocean. But that's not what you want to hear about..

The trips to and from Haiti were truly exhausting. To JFK one evening, up very early to the airport, flight to Santo Domingo, dinner and straight to bed. Up at 4:30 am to stand in line for the bus to Port au Prince (PaP) and then the long ride there. At PaP my ride had not arrived. I tripped and crashed into a pile of stones, tore the tip of my toe, and laying half dead next to a very dead rat didn't improve my mood. Stumbled painfully around for 3 days after which all was fine.

My next ride, due at 4, didn't arrive until 9pm which was not pleasant although many people in the dark parking lot kept me company, each worried that another would maul me. I really did feel very safe. Haiti is not as people portray it to be. (Opinion) My ride appeared (car had broken down - surprise a la Haiti) and I was taken to temporary lodging in Port au Prince, where I slept on the ground with sheets and pillow, blending into a tent city.

The lights flickered in the hot, dark evening and people spoke in low voices. It was strange to lay there, knowing all these people had lost homes, family, work, security, and I was able to just go back whenever I wished. I was glad to be there and have a small sense of their life.
Suddenly someone began to clap in a slow, deliberate pulse. Others joined in and the
sound grew more intense. Through it all began unusual, complex rhythm patterns, such as I have never heard before. And after another few minutes a voice began to sing, joined immediately, Haitian-style, by hundreds of voices when they recognized the melody. It was neither a hymn nor a chant - perhaps a folk song. It was beautiful and I will not forget. The heat did not let up and I killed tons of mosquitos, (Mustik) who were feasting on arms and ankles, before falling asleep. At some point during the night I woke up because it was raining: a soft, warm sprinkle that felt so good on my face and arms and I fell asleep again while the rain fell all over me.

I was woken up at 4 am and the fixed car was waiting in the half-dark. Roosters had been crowing already (they have NO sense of time!) and the tent city was beginning to stir.
My new-found friends (I finally got to see them!) took me on a 3hr ride to my destination in Bois Neuf where, I had been told, 2000 people were waiting desperately for help. They had no water, no food, no clothing, nothing for the babies, no toilet facilities. And I thought I was Jeane d"Arc on a wild horse, banner high. Chaaaarge!

OK. The truth. Bois Neuf is in the valley. Fatima, a religious pilgrimage retreat, is on the mountain top. Great view over the ocean and all. There were maybe 40 people there, 6 of whom were nuns and maybe 12 children and 2 babies. About 1960 people missing. There was ample water, 9 excellent water filters provided by World Aid. Plenty of food in the large kitchen and, judging by the shopping trip, ample finances.
The meals cooked by the kitchen help were excellent. It was mandatory to pray 2x/day for 1 hour each, but preferably 7x/day. Ehh...
I looked it all over for the rest of the day, hobbling around on a very sore foot, talked to some of the young people (they missed their computers etc), packed up the next morning and left at dawn for Saint Marc. Good move - wise judgment for once.

Gladys and Jean had met me at Fatima the afternoon of my arrival there. Jean ran to me, clung to my neck and more or less stayed there. Gladys had arranged a 'taxi' and we were off to Saint Marc with better things to do.

The afternoon was immediately well-spent. We went to visit the hospital, Saint Nicolas, where we met the assistant administrator. He basically, beaming, gave us free reign. Another person showed us the patients from Port au Prince/Petionville and where we should go when filling bowls with food.
The ward were crowded. Many people were on mattresses on the floors, with barely space between beds. The patients from the cities rarely had anu visitors while we were there.

In Haiti, like in most poor countries, family is expected to do everything for the patient. Bathe them, wash their clothes, change the beds and provide food. Since so many patients' families lived so many hours away (or had died), they were left on their own. Help was desperately needed for these people, about 100 in all, divided over 6 buildings. These were the amputees, severe fractures and deep wounds or complications. They were really lonesome.

We met at Gladys' house and met the whole team: six women and four men, two of whom were still in HS. We talked about the plan, the food, the needed nutrition for ill people, healthy food and equipment handling. We talked about shopping and money. I am so glad now that my Kreyol is becoming half-way decent. OK - a quarter. I did not tell them that they would get paid. Instead, I told them that volunteering for the people of their country was the right thing to do. I just wanted to see how many would stay.

We left for the market and I was particularly impressed with one woman, Malene, who took charge and know/understood exactly what needed to be done. Gladys, bossy as she is, was 2nd in command. Vegetables, beans, meat, rice, root vegetables and herbs were picked with great care. The boys carried everything to the car where our daily driver (man #4) was waiting patiently.



After returning to Glady's place, we went straight to work cooking the chicken and the beef (no refrigeration - cook it on the spot), and cutting up a bezillion vegetables.
At 6 am the next morning all was cookied gigantic pots, well-tasted by ALL involved, and finally gently put in the back of the car, which hit bottom after we all got in as well.


More tomorrow. AFter all: this story didn't happen in one day, either! Sleep well.

Haiti 2010: L to R: Frantz, Manie, Malene, Luce, Claudy, Gladys, Jean-Marie and Marianne

Haiti After The Quake

Hello friends and family, and all those great friends overseas,
Welcome to another adventure. But mostly a HUGE Thank You for all your support, whether 'in kind' or in wishes and thoughts. All of equal importance!

I was very surprised just now to find a huge picture of our OneBigBoostg team popping up in front of me. NO idea how it got there. Technology v.Antiquity (me).
On the picture you see a wonderful group of people. From left to right: Frantz (electrician and Gladys' boyfriend of several years), Manie, Luce the almost RN (no $700 to complete her 4th/final year because her father suddenly died), Marlene, the natural leader of the team, Claudy, Glady's oldest brother who never let me out of his sight, and Gladys. Below sits me, holding my boy Jean-Marie. We are here at the hospital's open central area. These young people comprise most of the OneBigBoost team, which did everything to get the project going, and to maintain it independently through the following weeks.

The Journey
Days 1 and 2
From home to airport, to Santo Domingo and on to Port au Prince and from there to Bois Neuf, the place where I was told 2000 people needed food, water and medical care desperately. This took well over 48 hours. I liked what little I saw of Santo Domingo. The next day the bus to Haiti, which all went smoothly except that I left $1000 under my pillow at the SD hotel! A young man who managed the bus company made arrangements: he would go and get the money and deposit it, while his father, at the Port au Prince end, would take it out of his account and give it to me when the bus arrived. I had no choice but to trust the arrangement. Sure enough: his father was waiting for me with $985 (taxi money out)! The father and son turn out to own the company.
I was thrilled, turned around, stumbled over a large piece of metal in a cement slab, slammed into a pile of rubble, next to a dead rat, and cut the very tip of my toe almost off. That was NOT fun! I will watch my money better next time! I couldn't hardly walk for 3 days, soaking, betadining, wrapping, but all is well now although I expect to lose the nail. Never liked that one, anyway.

My 3:30 ride in Petionville didn't show up and I became well acquainted with the parking lot. By 9-whatever pm a nice young man appeared, severely apologizing: both his cars had died on the way there. I know how that is and it hadn't particularly worried me. I had water to drink. He, Patrice, took me home, since it was so late.

We drove through Port au Prince in the dark.
As always: the city was alive at night. Stalls with candles, people hanging around telling jokes and stories. Fires where people cooked food McD-style. In between wafts of bad odors, as expected. Houses and buildings just caved in in the middle, or piles of rubble. The next house in perfect condition with the following home a staircase standing, several feet removed and sideways from where it used to be. In between and behind silent tent 'cities', all as closely packed together as possible. It was all strange and eerie. Some had changed, some went on as if nothing had happened.

I was brought to Patrice (my ride) and Robert's home, which was part of another tent city. The house and garden, flowing into the tents, were packed with people, silently laying in the dark. I was given a spot on the ground, with a clean sheet under and over me and, oh joy, a real pillow. That was much appreciated. The mosquitos (mustiks) feasted on my light skin. Near me I saw occasional eye-white looking at me, or even a sudden white smile. I felt very fortunate to be there. I was also exhausted, but the mustiks kept me half awake. Ankles and lower arms are much in demand this time of year.

Suddenly, in the deep dark, someone started clapping with a strong pulse. Slowly, determinedly. Others joined, as did a drum, and the clapping grew in volume. I wondered about Voodoo for a moment, but no such luck. Another sound joined: incredibly complex and unusual rhythmic patterns, again taken over by others. This went on for what seemed quite some time. Then a woman began to sing, joined by more and more voices, strong and determined in the night - something that was neither sad nor cheerful, nor religious. It was absolutely beautiful. I laid in the dark, wondering what I had done to be almost part of this incredible experience.

The following morning, the 18th, I was woken very early (5 am?) and we were on our way again.No food nor drink was offered and I wished I had a cracker. Somehow I wasn't really hungry.
We drove about 2-3 hours, then began to climb a mountain. From the top was an incredible view of the ocean and surrounding mountains. Along the way had been all sorts of effigees (spelling??), which I didn't understand at all. I was ready for my 2000 hungry people with pots, pans and money.
A strange situation was waiting for me.

I hobbled from the car to the main building, tripping over every conceivable rock with my good foot, and was welcomed by a very loud woman. She was happy to see me, she said, and told me she needed to go to town to buy "everything". I was puzzled.
I looked for the 2000 refugees, tents, sad things, and saw none. Niente. Niks.
Gladys and Jean showed up an hour later and together we came to the conclusion that this place was a hoax. It is Fatima, a religious retreat, where sometimes thousands come to pray. There were 15-20 people there who had come from PaP, but who apparently come there frequently anyway. Gladys snuck into the kitchen and found plenty of food there. Together we found LOTS of water, and 9 very expensive water filters. While I was there 2 lovely meals were served to everyone. This was all wrong.

I spoke with two teenagers, daughters of the loud lady, who were puzzled as well. About me.
"We have 6 prayer services every day, each for an hour, and two are mandatory: 6 am and 7pm. Yes we need you, because we are SO BORED here! No TV, our friends (only a few died) are far away, we don't have our computers or video games! We hate it here but our house is messed up."
Eh...
"You don't want to pray with us? You HAVE to! (No I don't!). Aren't you a Christian? You pray to God, right?
Hard to explain.
Well...what other Christians are there? Are you Jewish?
No. But there is Methodist, Lutheran, Adventist...
But those aren't Christians!
...Oh boy...

I went packing and the next morning Gladys, Jean and I left for Saint Marc and Hopital Saint Nicolas.

I met with the young people Gladys had gathered for the project and I was immediately really impressed. There were 4 more women (one disappeared) and two HS boys, as well as Glady's boyfriend Frantz. Such great, great people.
Together we went to the hospital to get some exact answers.

Gladys had assured me that there were "a lot" of people from Port au Prince/ Petionville, but " lot" isn't very exact. And I needed permission and contact in person.
We met with the assistant to the medical director, who was thrilled with our plans. He found another assistant, who took us through the hospital wards, pointed out people who were from PaP, and showed us where we could safely and hygenically (..?) put our food down, ladle it into bowls and dole it out.
Our next trip was to the fabulous market, rich in color and sound, where we bought LARGE amounts of fresh vegetables, onions, garlic and herbs, lots of potatoes, 2 huge bags of rice (I insisted on the more expensive Haitian rice which they found ridiculous, until they learned that their rice is both more nutritious and supporting their economy...very proud) and beans.
And chicken.
It was hauled home via 'taxi', and the man became our daily driver.

Gladys has a great place now: most of the 2nd floor of a house. White ceramic tile floor, 3 rooms, a bathroom that doesn't (didn't) work (I scrubbed and fixed it) and a kitchen w/o water. With the help of big buckets, we all sat upstairs to scrape, wash and chop vegetables while some cooked the chicken outside on the charcoal cooking contraptions. At 6 am the next day it was all turned into a truly mouth-watering chicken soup. Thick, rich, filled with all the nutrients so badly needed by the recipients.
All, people and soups, crammed into the taxi (which hit the dirt several times) and drove to the hospital.

It was a great experience and the young people's pride grew as we worked. They have never been in a situation where they can GIVE, nor where they are important and respected. And in charge.
The patients, mostly with ghastly wounds or pins in legs and feet, were so grateful to receive hot, real food.
In Haiti, hospitals do not have a kitchen. Everyone is expected to have family/friends who bring them food on a daily basis. Those from PaP rarely do have family and visitors (3-4 hrs driving) and they get left-overs from others. We hope.
It was just wonderful.
The only problems we encountered were getting bowls and spoons back, and being firm about those who suddenly came from PaP also..
Some were nasty but Gladys doesn't take any bull.


Back at Gladys' place, we discussed what to do next. I suggested that they rotate meals: one day chicken soup (thick stew, really), next beans, rice with some meat "salami" and fresh tomatoes, then a beef stew, and last spaghetti and sauce. (a common and liked food) And try to serve fresh tomatoes, sliced onions or cucumber with it.
More shopping.
The third day I stood back completely and the 4th I didn't go with them at all: they had to be independent and come back with stories and questions.
In addition to food we also provided each patient with several pr of underwear and hygiene items, sometimes hair-doodats or cups, all rolled up into a little package. They were so happy.

By then Beth had sent the second $1000. We sat down to do and explain business, trust, leadership and responsibilities. And everyone was told all the facts to avoid any hanky-panky. I also explained that the project would definitely be over by March 13 at the latest.

Along with the food purchases, which came to about $140/day, we paid for transportation and wages. Beth and I had discussed that this was terribly important. That alone was a miracle to them, because I had not mentioned this and let them 'volunteer' the first day, seeing who would return. All but 2 did. I explained that the leader, Marlene, who did all the planning and was in charge of the shopping, received $25 (at $1-3/day normal income this was an awesome amount). Gladys, her assistant, received $20/day, the others $15 each and the two HS boys $10/day each. A new refrigerator, Gladys' dream, costs $78, to put things in perspective. Also: each received a good hot meal from what was cooked. Everyone accepted it instantly.
Bookkeeping was explained and Luce, the nurse, is in charge of anything written and Frantz of all the book keeping.

I left last Wednesday feeling secure and trusting and with a sense of accomplishment. Something overlooked is being taken care of. (Didn't get home until Friday night!)

I saw many aid organizations, mainly USAid,( very prominent,) US Army, Doctors w/o Borders, the UN, various catholic services, the Hands..whatever, as well as orgs. from many other countries. I never saw the Red Cross, nor Beyond Borders. Helicopters flew overhead delivering people and goods on soccer fields.
There were small teams everywhere, from every state and nation, helping with medical issues from surgery to therapy, groups who simply cleaned floors, electricians restoring wiring, plumbers, car repair crews, engineers of all kinds, ages and abilities...on and on. Really impressive! And they were absolutely everywhere - and needed everywhere.

My Jean is, of course, an added benefit. He flew around my neck when we saw each other at Bois Neuf, and wouldn't let go. (I didn't object).
He is SO adorable and loving. His speech is poor, but I realized that Gladys doesn't speak with him and rattles at high speed all day long. Also discovered that he was excited to learn new words (as in English) and together we named everything we could think of. His pronunciation was suddenly clear, and he remembered almost all of it the following days. He sat with me, played with me, sang with me, talked with me and slept with me. At 4 yrs old, he is a wonderful little kid and still a miracle.
Carl and I are trying to do something that will get him ahead of other kids there, so he will have a better chance to survive the lacking of Haiti. The Haitians who do well in life are all the 'upper crust' with both money and expectations. Jean does not fall into that category.

Daily Life.
Two little (one black, one pink) tiny pigs running up and down the street: in the morning to the right, back to the left in the evening. There must be a market up the road.
When the electricity goes out, no-one bats an eye. Well, you couldn't tell, anyway.
When someone yells at you and you come back with a (funny) comment, everyone roars, including the person. One woman said: gimme money! Gimme food! I responded "when you come to visit me in the USA you will have to bring me money and food, too!" They all thought this was hilarious.
Goats galore.
Roosters who have no concept of time.
TapTaps: pickup trucks for transportation. One tap: stop, Two taps: Go. How many people does a taptap hold: until the last one gets on.
Each taptap has colorful sayings and lots of flowers painted on it, usually like "Psalm 32" (or such), "I love Jesus and my Wife" (common) but the one that was new to me was "Hippocrits For Jesus".

While I was there, we experienced 3-4 other quakes, this time south to north up the coast and under St.Marc. They were about 4.0 and deep, deep under ground. I never felt them, but did wake up at 4am one of the nights, because 3 glasses were shaken off the table and crashed to the ceramic floor.

Your great gifts have gone a long way. In fact: more have come in since I left, which simply means that we can continue to reach out and out, over and over.

The men and women of the OneBigBoost Ayiti team are immensely proud members. It has put them in a new social category, more aware of others' needs and the power they suddenly realize they have. In addition to the food project, they are now organizing their neighborhoods to clean up, and to start with themselves to improve Ayiti, not to expect it to come from the government, because it just doesn't. To start it with them, and with the children, and work their way up.

I will try to post more pictures. Wish me luck ;-) !

I'm going back some time around the 15th, for just 3-5 days to make sure all is well.

Nepal, schools, etc.

My goodness. So much has happened and so much before we arrived. A whirlwind of worlds.

Needless to say Haiti is bruised and beyond comprehension on all our minds. We (Sander and I ) were ready to roll immediately, but seats were taken back, suddenly not avilable. And likely that was the right thing: fate perhaps wants us there when we are most needed.
So far all of our friends are accounted for and reported alive. One acquaintance (UN) still missing..
I'll keep you updated on that. many friends have sent/pledged more than they already donated via other sources, and to the Nepal /OneBigBoost project, or simply sent thoughts and prayers. All equally needed. THANK YOU ALL!
Our plan is to send up a soup kitchen in the areas (have contacts, places to stay and own food/water) for those hundreds waiting in line at the S Marc hospital with serious injuries, arrived from the toughest areas to a margin of safety. (Saint Marc, 5-6 hrs north of PaP)
The ogistics of etting med supplies, food, water and shelters to areas outside Port au Prince is not imaginable to us here, with our luxury and organized structure.

Nepal. Hmmm. What marvelous experience.
First of all some words to and about those who were able to support our (Beth and I) OneBigBoost© project there. You have NO IDEA of the joy, excitement and appreciation of the two schools and the community we had targeted. You've made a real, real difference in the lives of many who are overlooked there!

First of all we did a lot of learning and visiting in the Kathmandu area, picke up $200 returned cash (the world is a good place) from two totally strange Dutch people, a mother and daughter, who were stranded at the Kath airport with us at midnight. They didn't have US $ and an ATM was not available. No euros or tr checks accepted. So there they were. They had to pay for their visas to get through, which cost us $40 a piece, them $100 each - no clue why we were less important- so we decided to stick out our necks and help them. I love it when faith in people is real. 3 days later we picked it up at a trekking place in Kathmandu/Thamel.

After K we went west and ended up in Begnas Tal, a small community before you get to big and touristy (but fun and bubbly) Pochara (POchara, with a SOFT Dutch 'g').
In Begnas Tal we were soon surrounded by lots of little urchins, who became our daily friends. The most outstanding was Gatha. Gatha is 12 years old, highly intelligent and incredibly eloquent in English. What a wise child with much to say and amazing knowledge. It was love at first sight for all three of us. And little Nisa, her 10 yo friend. (Nisa's house is so little that there is no address)
One of the first conversations:
"Hello. My name is Gatha. This is my BEST friend Nisa. I am twelve and Nisa is 10. What are your names, where are you from and how old are you?" All answers given.
"So. I am going to a nearby school, which is a boarding school" (means private, not necessaily sleeping there). " Nisa goes there (pointing up the mountain, across many rice paddies). I am the number one student of my class. Except in running, (sad face) I only came in 4th.
I think it is ok. There are more important things in life for me in store at this moment, so I must concentrate on them!" Beth and I had a riot!
(Her 2nd language, mind you!)

In the afternoon of our 2nd day there, we had ordered a taxi/driver to take us to a little mountain school where the books from Highlights for Children, and the ones we contributed, were to be taken. While waiting for Beth, all the little village urchins (and young lady) were surrounding me. They had to know what was in the very heavy suitcase. I explained and faces ell. I realised then that none of these kids had ever owned a book. Word-free books for the little ones to a book on the cosmos were distributed among them. It was the highlight of my trip, actually.
I remember getting my first two books, one from an aunt when I was six, the other when I was 10. I still have both. Books are worlds. I guiltily explained to descending Beth what I had not been able to avoid, but she just beamed.
The mountain school was tiny, busy, clean and exciting. The director introduced us to the principal and the teachers and the clean urchins. It was a great time, with the kids pouring over the books. But they actually have a library, from many donations, which was fabulous. The director (read beneficiary) was a nearby businessman who had started an incredible mountain resort there. Yes: I'd like to swim and enjoy the view fom the whirlpool there some day!
He had started the school and is very good at getting more people involved. We're thinking that OneBigBoost could build the outdoor kitchen they need so they can feed the poorest a midday meal (biggest). For only $500, we can do this from left-over and (none-Hhaiti) money. A thought to think.
The last evening we invited Nisa and Gatha for dinner in our simpe trekkiing hostel up the 'hill'. When we asked what they weould like to eat, Nisa and Gatha looked at each other and went into a whispering spree. "Nisa and I would like to had dry food". beth and I gave each other a rather puzzled look. "DRY FOOD?" "Yes. And if you give us some money, we will go down and choose it ourselves." We told them we had a running account there and they could put it one the bill.
With smiles from ear to ear they ran (in the dark, of course) downstairs and cam back with...two bags of Lays potato chips. The conversation that night was as interesting and eloquent as ever and we had a blast.
The next day Gatha came buy to say good bye, told her all abount her first (and second)
menstruation and that she was 'disheartened' when it stopped. After your 3rd one there is a big community celebration and she was SO looking forward to that! It had been 4 months now...so...
Such a different world
We will stay in contact with Gatha and Nisa, and they will be in our hearts forever.
In Butwal, where we arrived 3 days later, we were inundated with flowers and shawls, handsfull of petals, clapping, singine, group 'Namastes' (200-400 kids - pretty tear-jerking!) and beaming staff. This area was our target, The big private boarding schools (yes most did indeed live here) were amazing in quality and structures. Beth conducted a great hexagon project with a large goup of older students, brought in from at least 7 area schools. The student's wisdom and understanding left us at times speechless. They presented cultural dances, instrumental (wow-a medieval pump mini organ!!!) and singing, as well as speeches fom them and faclies. All tgether we visited, I believe 6 or 7 schools. Hard to keep count after a while. We were whisked, fed, introduced over and over, given endless gifts and trophy-like objects named 'Token of Love', bespoken and bespeeched, drunk with (oh-they have some good stuff!!) and fed over and over.
Since I don't eat much it was cath-24 for me. If I put little on my plate, they are very unhappy. If they put much on my plate, I cannot eat it. If you don't clear your plate, you insult them. Oh boy..Nepali dillemmi.

Last but not least we finally went to the school we came for.
Through a rubble-filled neighborhood, over a dubious, swinging ridge, over rocks, over catching barbed wire, through a dry streambed, over a dried-up rice paddy: we finally arrived not at Grandma's but at Hari Pathic's school. It consisted, as usual for public schools, of an L-shaped row of classrooms. Because of yearly flooding the school is built high up on a cement platform. (The Tibettans keep putting their tents in the flooding area, to be scattered (or washed) away each spring.) It was a crumbly, grim looking building, BADLY in need of clean, cheerful paint and materials. (Interested in a team, anyone????)
The children were just children, like any other excited, lovable creatures in the world.
In truly cast-away old uniforms, flipflops or even bare feet, they stood in rows, girls separated fom the boys in alternate rows. Each row from the smallest KG child to the highest (10th) grade. Faces beaming, lots of giggling at the 'moto' (fat) lay and the one with a thousand curls. The staff stood on the higher platform that formed the entry line to each classroom. As is custom: all women faculty also wear uniforms: elegant 3-piece garments of the same fabric. Men wear suits and Nepali hats. Really great-looking. Theirs (ladies) were a rose-color. Soft and dignified.
More speeches, more clapping, more garlands (a la Hawaii), more flowers, more huge smiles (kids) and shy ones (faculty). And giggles.

We gave them the books first, received with amazing joy. Then we each 'unveiled' a computer and the cheering turned to absolute screaming! These are their first ones, and I believe they felt they were finally part of the world of 'the other side'. And so they are.

You've all done so much good, friends. Thank you, again and again.
You have opened up worlds and minds and windows of opportunity.

Then the projector came out - more cheering although they didn't really understand what it was until Hari said "Movie". Tumultuous response!

At the end, finally, we went into one of the classrooms, had more milk-tea and milk-coffee, and the equipment was opened, tested and found to be in excellent condition. One of the Board members is a computer expert/technician and will help with anything the do not understand. We watched a bit on the projector, which worked also (phew!).
When we left, among more excitement, lots of kids wanted to shake our hands and offer more "namastes".
One little boy cheerfully offered Beth his left hand, which she took and shook...then realized what he with beaming face had done (we're in the east, remember!) and shook her finger admonishingly at him,while all the kids around the rascal (who had been waiting for this trick) all burst out laughing. It was so funny! Kids are kids. And these, some grimy, others too skinny, were beautiful.

Throughout our travels we met fantastic, educated and loving people. Those who were not (yet) educated/ able to read and write were so eager to be. But it takes more that wishing to make it come true.
The countryside is much like in Haiti: half-finished houses, terrible roads, either really bad or really nice cars, overloaded buses, dinky school buses, piles of rubble and garbage everywhere ...but people who know the facts of their government, who treasure their culture. But we saw beggars rarely and only in the city. Maybe less than 10. In Haiti that drives you crazy!
And then the above-and-beyond countryside you all want to hear about.
Himalayas and Himalayans.
I will talk more about that in the next blog, when I can add pictures. They are better than words.

In the mean time, family and friends: Thank You for supporting these great kids and schools. it was ALL so MUCH needed and APPRECIATED.

You have done a good thing!

Love, Marianne

Merry Christmas and all other holidays! Beth Burkhauser and I will be off to nepal December 28 (2009), returning January 15. Our purpose is three-fold. First (and initial) we are going to a High School in Butwal, a city in south-central Nepal. We have been invite to continue a program of the use of art to an integrated program with Interdependence and Hexagon projects, "linking" activities and concepts. We will be visiting several schools, students and faculty in the region and see first hand what they are accomplishing in higher education, which is still sparsely available in Nepal. They will also take us to Lambini, the birthplace of Siddhartha/Buddha. All these are very exciting to us. We will both be addressing the students, with Beth's focus on education through the arts and the importance of linking through interdependence. I chose to speak on the importance of taking charge of your own education, and of everyone's responsibility - faculty, administration and students alike - to develop one's mind intelligently. That education is the foundation of their newly awakening society.
But before we get to Butwal, we will visit two other places and each with a different purpose. After our 25.5hr flight via Hong Kong and Bangladesh, we will spend the first five days in the Kathmandu area. We chose to stay in one of the outlying sections, the town Bhaktapur. This entire town is a UN World Heritage Monument! We will visit Thamel (centrl kathmandu) Patan and Thimi, all places of artistic and cultural interest. Here we have several goals. We want to visit the child-labor free and Fair Wage rug weaving industry, for which one of Beth's friends makes designs. We are also visiting the Kumbeshwar Technical School, a place where women are taught craft skills. It includes a center for women with leprosy, a home for abandoned and battered women and a school for their children! A fantastic and growing project. Our goal is to purchase a large amount of their beautiful crafts - also from othher places- with the seed-money Beth and I each will provide. Upon return we will have a Nepal Party with food, documentary, slides, music etc etc!
Our 3rd part is actually in the middle- a visit closer to the Himalayas to have some rest, walking and getting our minds back together from all the impressions.
Anyway...those are the plans! And that is exactly why you may want to follow this blog! To check up on us whether we stick with our guns, us just have a great time gallavanting. (my spellchecker doesn't like that word. Personally, it's one of my favorite!)

If you wish to comment while we are traveling, including suggestions, we'd love to hear from HOME. We'll try to insert pictures, and wave at the highest mountains in the world for you.