Just to be clear....

"Anyone need me to measure anything?" 

FYI- Friday

1) The first week of school nearly killed me. Seriously. Nearly killed me dead. Not like I'm saying that I've never fallen asleep in my classroom before, but after school I rest my chin in my hands around 3:15pm and was sheepishly caught napping by the janitor around 4:00pm. No recollection of the 45 minutes in between.

2)Due to a friend who refuses to allow me to be the shut in that I would naturally become otherwise, I will be at the Hollywood Bowl tomorrow with him...

There will be swooning, weakened knees and possibly squealing.

3) I came across one of my favorite pictures of my niece...she is much older now, but this will probably always be my favorite picture of her.

4) I woke up this morning, absolutely wrapped like a mummy in my sheets. And I'm talkin' a tight mummy wrap. No idea how that happened. It was quite possibly the worst night of sleep that I have had in recent history.

and that leads us to the fact that ...

5) It's 7:46pm on a Friday night and I am totally contemplating going to bed. Oh- and my dog has shaved arm pits. I know that has nothing to do with me being pathetic and going to bed at 8pm on a Friday night, but who makes a list of 6?

Try not to be jealous of my rockstar lifestyle.

Set in Stone: Part 1

(Why do manual labor if you can get the robots to do it?)

I don't do manual labor. I have always been of the mind that it is best to just pay a professional whenever possible....cut the grass, scrub the toilet, wash the car. I can't even bother to put my own grades into the computer. Isn't that what T.A's are for? My laziness knows no bounds, really. It's a curse.

If work is absolutely inevitable, the speed with which I can come up with an excuse is almost legendary.

Aside from my overwhelming laziness, there is one other reason why I try to steer clear of any job that is actually labor intensive. I am a huge, HUGE klutz. However, if there is one thing I have learned from traveling, logical or not, hard work or easy, klutzy help or none, local people will make 'it' work. No. Matter. What. Where as, Americans would probably call it a day and wait until the 'proper' resources/machinery arrived. 

One Memorial day in Mexico, A group of macho men in a minivan drove onto the beach to bbq carne asada with their families. About halfway to their desired munching spot they got out and scratched their heads at the fact that all four tires of their not-so four wheel drive minivan were buried up to the axle. Then, in the type of Spanish that I have only heard during fights at soccer tournaments, and when my students think I can't hear them, they wondered aloud about how on earth their plan for a fun filled family day at the beach had been foiled. Then, they just set up the bbq right where they were and got to grilling

I sat back and realized that this is precisely why we have laws and regulations about driving on the beach in America.

In Costa Rica, we rode horses to the top of a regularly active volcano and then flung our bodies across the top of the canopy, totally logical activities that would certainly be kosher in the states...or not.

(You know you are going green when your transportation freaking breathes and stops to crap at will.)

After that, I watched a group of tourists sit on a “Crocodile Tour” boat with two local Tican men. One was in possession of all four of his extremities. The other, however, seemed to be one limb short from the four that God gave him. Just as my brain was verifying what my eyes were in fact seeing, Uni-Arm hopped out to the front of the boat and slapped a headless fish on the top of the water. Theoretically, I suppose, the blood and scent would be spread throughout the water....thus attracting crocodiles (and Heaven only knows what else). Just as he went to slap the dead fish on the water one last time, a crocodile, that was fifteen feet long if it was an inch, jumped out of the water and snatched the fish carcass.....narrowly missing the single remaining arm of the fearless tour leader

I sat back and realized that this is precisely why the fine folks at OSHA have their jobs.

Then, I went to Africa. (insert dramatic and ominous music here)

I still marvel that I made it out alive.

Seriously...It's no small wonder that I didn't end up head first off a rooftop while tying rebar, buried in cement in the middle of the night, or eaten by a pair of lions disturbed mid- coitus.

At Isaac's school, where I spent the majority of my work time, we built a roof over a previously open area. Then, once we left, they continued and built a classroom on top of it. Sounds simple enough....if you have ready access to power and machinery.

Not so much the case, here. We had a motley crew of Americans, 8 year olds and boat loads of good intention.

(As a side bar, I have it on good authority that the walls are up and painted and ready for a whole new group of students. Yay for expansion! And electricity is just days away. . .it's amazing what can be accomplished when diverse groups of people come together to fight the good fight. And I can't think of a better fight than educating children so they can work their way out of the slums.)

The day started out simple enough, straighten out a couple (million) pieces of rebar....what could go wrong with that?


Well....considering we were in a narrow street, passing one end of a wobbly and sharp iron rod over our heads as it flailed about at random, while someone else stood on the 'stationary end,' there were plenty of things that could have gone wrong. Next, the lucky chump du jour would have to jump on the bend in the center, to hopefully straighten it out a bit.

Inevitably, the Fundi would swoop in with some new-fancy-fandangled tool and straighten, in two seconds, what we had spent hours trying to do.

Keep in mind that this was going on right outside the school, where children were passing through constantly, running up and down the street during recess. Cars and people would pass by at random, and sometimes a herd of baby goats would stop to check things out. (This made me particularly uncomfortable as I have a long running , and painful, history with goats. They really are horrible animals....but so dang cute when they are babies.) There were many an eye that could have been lost that day. And my colorful imagination pictured how every single one of those situations played out. Luckily, by the grace of God, Buddha, Mohammad, and Elohim, no one lost an eye or was skured on this particular watch. But that's not to say we didn't flirt with disaster with each and every piece of iron tossed. I'm fairly certain that many prayers were thrown to the heavens during this process, "Dear Sweet Jesus....." was how mine usually started.

Once the rebar was straightened out, as much as was possible for a bunch of mzungu, we had to weave it together and tie it down on the roof. To a normal person, this would probably be no big deal. But to Klutzeltina (yours truly), this was ripe with danger. Rather than catch my toe and send myself head first into the street/gutter/open sewage channel, I chose to do most of this work from a seated position.
Oddly enough, this is how I try to approach most jobs.

Occasionally we would get a piece of rebar that was too long. But with no saw, what were we to do? "Hmmmmm-I bet we can bend it..." Again, what could go wrong with this plan?

Then...THEN CAME THE CEMENT!

(Thank you to Scott for most of the pictures. I just like yours better than mine.)

The L's stand for Love

My love for all things LL is long running and well documented. He is, in fact, the reason I totaled my first car. But I can honestly say, while I am alone in my room and staring at the wall, in the back of my mind I hear my conscience calling....and it's saying that I have never loved LL more than I do right now. At this very moment. I do need love.

See more funny videos and Music Videos at Today's Big Thing.

Blaaaaawwww- How ya like me now?

*You may need to wait a quick second for the video to load or buffer or some such computery geek thing, but put the time in. You won't be sorry.

Wisdom of the Ages

(You are right Scott...I WILL NOT BE CENSORED!)

Before I left for Africa, I had a conversation with a friend/coworker that went a little something like this.

"Did you remember to pack condoms?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Hey- I know you're Mormon and all that, but stranger things have happened."

"Yeah- I'm fairly certain that at no point in this trip will I be in need of condoms. I'd pretty much bet the farm on it." After 31-ish years of rampant Mormonism, there are some things that you do know for certain.

"Whatever...I'm just sayin'."

Little did I know, stranger things did in fact happen. I'm just sayin'.

Okay-fine.....so the picture is apparently 'in bad taste' but you probably need a little more in your life if this is what you choose to get worked up about. How do you suppose we got Simba in the first place! If you want to see more Africa pics along with funny commentary, you should probably be my friend on the great FB. Which you probably should be anyway.....cause everyone needs to see my face a little more often than they do.

T.I.A.

This is Africa.

After the first week working in Africa, which included a veritable baptism by cement (I still can't bring myself to write about cement day, yet), the team headed off on safari and a much needed respite from our labors. Only this break didn't include swanky hotel rooms and room service. It involved tents and driving around the dusty, bumpy savannah, in search of the ever illusive rhino. Okay- so the tent wasn't that bad...



Honestly, I would put my name on the rolls of the hard-core campers if this was the way tent camping normally went. However, this was definitely not like any tent I had ever seen before. And while we never did catch a glimpse of a rhino, we did see all sorts of wild things.


It is quite an experience to see so many animals, so close, and so free. It's what we all imagine when we think of Africa. Scar and Mufasa's eternal and fatal struggle for power over the Pridelands. But it also made me think about whether or not this is really a full and complete picture of Africa. As Brittany and I walked to our 'tent' we commented on how the sky just seemed so much.....more.... than the sky that we see from home. The sunsets are the sort that you normally only see in your dreams. The horizons go on forever. And even the graphic, in your face reminder of exactly how the food chain works is awe inspiring. But if this was our first and only encounter with Africa, we would have gotten just a fraction of what this land holds. Cheated of the most precious and valuable thing that Africa has to offer. Her people.

Even though he may not get sweets often, one little boy unwrapped his candy, took a lick, and passed it along to his friend so that they both could have a treat. Isaac, knew that he could help the children in the slums of Soweto, by giving them a safe place to go to school. Another young man sat on the rooftop of his crudely made home to work on his studies. He had to use the last precious moments of daylight before he had nothing left but the darkness. And then there was the man who happened by a group of overwhelmed wazungu, all of which are nearly enveloped in concrete, and jumped in to help...just because it looked like we needed it.

It's the people that make Africa amazing. They are kind, hard working, thoughtful and self-less. But perhaps my favorite thing about the people is their curiosity and their loving nature. Whether it was the kids sneaking up next to you and softly pinching the skin on your arms, just to check if you feel the same way they do, or the chorus of, "How are you?" as they ran alongside the vans...their smiles and eyes are forever burned into my heart. As cool as the safari and the animals are, they are not what makes Africa great. Not by a long shot.

Expect it to be Everything

Aerodynamically, the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn't know it so it goes on flying anyway.-Mary Kay Ash

Apparently no one told a group of stay at home mom's/wives, students, school teachers, wine distributors, health care professionals, event planners, and children that we couldn't go and build a school. So we went and did it anyway.

Well, we got a good start on it at least. I am sure that past groups felt like they had the best mix of people possible. This year was no different. It felt like we had the perfect storm of volunteers.

Each person had their own reasons for taking on the task of helping children in a far off corner of the world. I was hoping for some perspective. I had gotten into the habit of letting circumstances, work and people determine my level of happiness. Those outside forces obviously, weren't very concerned that I stayed on the sunny side of things. So, I left for Africa with a heavy heart. Not because of any one horrible thing...just the sum of many little things. I wasn't particularly happy and wasn't particularly happy with the person that I was becoming. The thing that worried me the most was that I wasn't smiling nearly as much as I used to, and more than a few people had mentioned it. As we left the plane and transferred into the bus that would take us to the Amani Centre, I was worried. Horrified almost. There was exuberant harmonizing of both church songs and boy band songs coming from the back of the bus. I was certain, and fairly upset, that I had unwittingly signed myself up for some coked-up version of EFY-goes international.

That first day brought with it a lot of visits. Visits to schools and orphanages where World of Difference had already been in years past. One school in particular had Gordon B. Hinckley's now famous "Be's" painted throughout the hallways. It was a surreal experience to walk through the halls of an orphanage on the exact opposite side of the world and see the words of the prophets standing as a reminder of how to be just a bit better today than the day before.

The kids came out to sing and dance, as is the Kenyan way, to welcome visitors. It was sweet to see the excitement on the faces of the returning volunteers, and the children in the orphanages, as they were reunited.

But there was no getting past the reality that these sweet kids lived a reality that most of us could not even imagine. Typically each bed slept 3 kids....and they are stacked three high. The conditions of the orphanage certainly left much to be desired if measured by American standards, but the kids at this particular orphanage could not have been happier. They have learned how to play instruments and dance, so that they would have a means to make money...and were as tight as any blood related family I have ever seen.

Laura, one of the women in our group, was talking to a young boy at the orphanage. As they were talking, she wondered about what it must be like for him not to have a mother to run to when he got hurt, or any siblings to conspire and make mischief with.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, than the young boy looked at her with the excitement that only a child can muster and said, "Oh- do you want to meet my brother?"

Of course she went to meet his brother, and it all became clear. This boy was obviously not introducing her to his actual brother...but a fellow orphan who he loved so much, he considered a brother. That feeling seemed to permeate every place we went. They may not have the comforts, luxuries and families that we do....but they have a degree of love, peace and happiness that I can only dream of.

At our first team dinner, we debriefed what happened that day and made a plan for the coming days. Brie, who had a cousin that had been on this trip many times before had been given the advise, "Expect it to be everything." It seemed like a pretty bold statement at the time, but over the course of the next two weeks, I realized that statement was one hundred percent accurate. It was everything. It was exciting, sad, intriguing, healing, exhausting and exhilarating. In the end, I came to wonder who actually benefited more from this trip, the Kenyans who simply needed to expand their schoolhouse, or the Americans who have much more stuff than we need, but still can't manage to find the happiness we desire. I may have come to Kenya with a bit of a heavy heart, but I certainly did not leave that way.



**Being that I lost the memory card from my camera with the first week worth of pictures on it, most of these photos are lovingly stolen from Scott and Brittany