Into the Wild...

As evident by this blog, things didn’t work out for me in Mexico so I went back to the drawing board and decided to come up with a new plan. Referencing my bucket list (also known in my family as the more morbidly titled “25 things I want to do before I die”), I scanned the list for options. As a side note, my sister recently used this list to make the point that I was a bit of an eccentric kid because I made her and a few other friends create this list when we were 16. She thinks that’s a bit young to be thinking about dying. I, however, prefer to think of it as ambitious; it’s all about goals, people. 

Back to the list, while I paused momentarily at “sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom at the White House,” I decided it might not be possible in the next few months without risking arrest. So moving on, I skimmed over “attend a ball - preferably in Vienna”, raced by “see every sunset possible” (don’t judge, I was a melodramatic 16.) and settled on “volunteer in Africa.” Now I’m pretty sure that when I created this list what I meant was…

Cue movie scene: I go to Africa as a glamorous foreign aid worker who, though very poor, lives in cute apartment, wears gorgeous, if somewhat practical, clothing and despite the heat has perfect hair and makeup, has adventures I always survive, falls in love with the attractive photo-journalist who is there on special assignment, and saves lives along the way. Oh and all set to a fantastic soundtrack with a lot of 30’s and 40’s jazz invoking a Hemmingway/Out of Africa vibe. End scene.

You might want to sit down because I know this will be shocking…it isn’t like that at all. 

This has been one of the craziest, hardest, most amazing experiences of my life. I am dirty and sweaty and ridiculous looking all day. My hut is full of dirt and bugs and some days we run out of water and I can’t shower. When I walk back to my hut after dark, I must watch out for lions, wild dogs, leopards, and 20 varieties of venomous snakes. Note the sign:

  

The good news is that during the day I get to spend time in Zululand with 2-5 year olds who walk themselves to school. 

And meeting primary school students

I sit in on meetings and help prepare proposals with Zulu community co-ops that are working toward the creation of a community garden in order to sell vegetables to local businesses.  

And in the evenings…I go on game drives and see gorgeous wildlife. 

 

Wild, complex, stunning South Africa.

The Beginning

When I was a little girl, I would pore over a book I had of famous sites around the world. I would study it for hours and dream about all the places I would go. Then Indiana Jones hit my consciousness, and I imagined I was his female equivalent – striking out for the most remote corners of the globe, days filled with magic and mystery. While I never did become a female Indy, I did manage to find a professional life that gave me the opportunity to see the world. 

What I didn’t know before I traveled to exotic lands was that some days would be full of magic and mystery and some days would feel like an exhausting, never-ending Groundhog Day of torture. Indiana Jones never mentioned jet-lag, or airplanes wrapped in duct tape, or all-nighters in the Quito airport - but in the end I would be willing to suffer any number of the awful days for just a few minutes of the mystery – meeting the living goddess of Nepal, hearing the chants of Korean women on pilgrimage in Burma echo through the pagodas, an airplane full of men and women on the Hajj to Mecca, seeing the place where Jesus was baptized. I have had more than my share of those moments when I could not believe I was the one lucky enough to have this life.

And I do know how blessed I am, because in addition to all of those places, I have also spent time in places far less privileged - holding a precious, crack-addicted baby in my arms in Atlanta, watching girls no older than ten selling their bodies in Cambodia, little children begging in India, in rehab facilities with people whose lives were shattered by addiction, and countless places with people whose daily lives are ordered by the specter of poverty that hovers everywhere.   

The world is both beautiful and ugly, where one always lives in close proximity to the other - maybe it is only in this dichotomy that either is fully known. Without the hope and beauty of the world, the ugliness and misery would overtake us. Without ugliness, there would be no way to truly appreciate beauty. 

This weekend, I am embarking on a new phase in my life that I am sure will include both beautiful and difficult experiences, and I am going to blog about them here. My next adventure takes me to the heart of colonial Mexico, to a city named Guanajuato. I am going to spend the next four months studying Spanish and learning about Mexican culture. Though I have traveled widely, this will be my first opportunity to spend an extended amount of time learning about a country. For me to have this opportunity, I had to leave my job, and it is exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. 

If you would like to join me on this journey, stay tuned…