Jennifer – Internet is Spotty

Forgive us for the lack of connection.  We will be posting more today if the Internet holds out.  The official word is that Internet is Ethiopia is out — the entire country! No one seems concerned but us… Billy and Sidney have left with Keith.  The rest are well. We gathered in one hotel room to have chocolate desserts and play PIT last night.  I think all the yelling was good for all of us.  It clears the lungs.

We’re off to the Fregenet School today and then back to the Mother Theresa Orphanage for the remainder of the week. Can’t imagine how anyone could leave and not feel completely amazed at how easy it is to make the children here smile.

Lots of love and more posts later…

Jennifer – Day 5

It’s another morning at 6 a.m. and as much as I wanted to see the sunrise, I could definitely have slept a bit longer. Funny thing. Isaac asked me last night if I was going to get up at 6, too. When I told him I thought it’d be pretty wretched of me to make the kids get up while I slept another hour, he replied with a wry smile, “I would.” “That’s why you’ll never be running YouthInkwell,” I sassed back. “Probably a good idea” were his final words as he headed jauntily off to bed. What’s funny is that I don’t agree with him.

So here I am now on the patio of the lodge looking out at the sun rising over God’s Mountain. “Bet ya never thought you’d say that,” said Matthew who’s arisen for the early morning call of interviews. He’s right. How often in life do we have the chance…
Although it’s only been three days so far, I’m feeling a bit of the fatigue. I awoke this morning feeling overwhelmed at the thought of another ten days. I can’t imagine how the kids must feel – although I imagine they probably haven’t paused long enough to think about it. Right now, Yuko is sitting in an interview explaining the difference between borehole wells and shallow wells. Surreal.

For me personally, I am finding it easier to get through hours at a time not thinking about the things that plagued me back home. The worries, the concerns, the fears about surviving in this economic climate creep into my mind only occasionally here, and when they do, I begin to strategize for a moment or two – only to come back to the ever obvious – their isn’t a dag-gone thing I can do about here. And so, I let it go.

When we speak of personal growth, I know I have far to go. Too many hours of too many days are lost to the inconsequential – inconsequential when put in the perspective of true need. That doesn’t mean landlords don’t need rent and basic day-to-day tasks no longer need to be completed, but perhaps I have reached a place in my adult life when I can embrace the kind of simplification that will make the day to day easier.

There have been many who have watched my seven-day work schedule and wondered how long I can keep it up. I supposed if I weren’t so arrogant, I would have taken time long before now to wonder it, too. Perhaps I wouldn’t have allowed myself to get so tired. Now, though, being here… I don’t know… to say I’m reenergized would be a misrepresentation – suggesting I’m ready to go home and get right back to what I’ve been doing all along. I think I’m growing more focused, perhaps an inch a day. And if I’m lucky, I will have a grown just enough to come home better, a better person, a better teacher, a better manager of time and resources. Just better.

I would really like that.

Jennifer – Day 4

After my relaxing morning of writing, I followed up on a suggestion from Keith to have a mini-chat with the kids over breakfast. We had our first roundtable discussion about what we’d seen, what had surprised us, what we were feeling. It was nice to have some time together with the kids to hear what they’re taking in. When everyone was preparing to leave, Henry’s and my orders for breakfast finally arrived (Africa time). I burned my mouth on the extremely hot porridge but raced off to the cars to head to the ADP office.

The ride was about an hour, back in the direction we’d come the day before. With Jake in the passenger seat and me right behind, both with open windows, I got a double dose of what I can only describe as a dust storm. I arrived at the site looking like someone caked in a layer of red dirt frosted across my face. The driver immediately offered me a bottle of water to splash on my face, and when it appeared that wouldn’t do the job, Henry offered a tub of baby wipes for me to begin the process of peeling back the layers of Africa dust. Before the meeting began, I went to the restroom and was informed that there was no water running. The gentleman offered me a large cup of water from a drum and I proceeded to use the facilities and dump the water to rinse the bowl. It reminded me of my days at my grandparent’s bungalow on Mire Gut in Nova Scotia.

We then went to a debriefing, led by Jared (pronounced Ja-reed). It was a big room and we were all seated on old sofas in a horseshoe shaped pattern. He spoke for a few minutes and then asked us if we had any questions. I was a bit disappointed that the kids weren’t super interactive. After all, these people had come in on a Sunday (their day of rest) to spend the day with us. I even slipped several of them a note to encourage them to speak up, but I got nothing – just an obstinate shake of the head from one of them, an act I translated to mean “Not a chance.” As a result, the meeting ended early and we got on the road to see our very first site. Frustrated, I headed back toward the car. I forget sometimes these are just kids.

The tone of everything changed dramatically when we arrived at a water point. We walked to a well where women and girls were filling their yellow drums. The kids came alive. Suddenly, they were talking to people, taking pictures, and swarming with what seemed like dozens of beautiful village children all wanting to see their pictures on the digital view screen.

I took a turn at the pumping of the water and found that while not as hard as I imagined, it still built some muscle. When I asked if I could try putting the drum on my back, the village girls started dying with laughter. I’ll admit it. I looked ridiculous with my hip jutting out and my arms clumsily holding this behemoth-sized water container. I walked about fifteen yards before having to set it down – rather ungracefully I might add. One of the ADP workers took me to see a family latrine which they had constructed nearby their tucal. It was like a teepee made of straw with only a small cloth to cover the entrance. By local accounts, this method of having a collective latrine for families reduces the random defecation that is leading to disease and water contamination.

Because the kids were about twenty-yards away with the majority of the crowd hovering nearby, I took the chance to ask the gentleman who was showing us around if there was a chance I might see a tucal on the inside. I was very cautious in asking the question as I didn’t want to be intrusive. The man generously took me to his home and let me take some pictures of the inside. What I had thought would just be a large open circle of space was in fact divided into two parts – the front entry way seemed empty but the rear had a small pit with hot embers and a few round cakes or loaves of bread cooking. There were a few Spartan items on the ground, but all in all it was an excruciating reality check to see the sum total of this man’s world. To think that five people had to occupy that space seemed a geometric challenge that left me only to believe that people must sleep virtually on top of one another – leaving privacy for a mom and dad an untenable concept.

We returned to the ADP site at Arba Minch to have lunch. It was the best meal yet. Tall bottles of Mirinda (orange soda) and plates filled with injira and meat. Yum! I took a few moments to be my intrusive self and asked the ADP workers where the women were. They told me the only women in the compound were the secretary and the cooks. I would have been more aghast were it not for the very minimalist lifestyle these workers in the camp have. Working in the field is not for the weak of spirit or stomach. The bathrooms are holes in the ground, and the running water is intermittent at best. The men in the camp seem particularly well educated, and I imagine it’s due to the BBC they watch in the common room – there is little else to do by way of entertainment.

The workers took us to a lake where we saw girls washing their clothes and bathing. Nearby, cattle were milling about – an easy demonstration of why the mixing of cattle waste and water is so dangerous. A young girl walked away from the lake with a jug of that same water.

We visited several other sites, several still waiting for water access. I suppose I could have imagined it, but it just seemed that there was a layer of dust everywhere. Those without water seemed caked in just one more layer. It was as if we were heading one step farther on the poverty scale. We continued to take pictures of the people until Abraham shouted, “Let’s move!” This is his typical call for us to depart.

Last night, we returned to the hotel ready to sink into bed. It was only 5:30, but the day had weakened all our resolve. I went back to my room and proceeded to dump my dust-saturated clothes onto the floor of the shower to rinse. As I scrubbed with a bar of soap I imagined how it must be to do that always. As the water ran, I felt such a pang of guilt that I used my pants to stop the drain so a small one inch reservoir could form. I wrung out the shirts and socks and proceeded the futile attempt to remove the cakes of dirt from every square inch of my body. I scrubbed and laughed as my mind actually formulated the question, “Did you wash behind your ears?” When I stepped out of the small spray of water, I wiped off my arms to see that there was still a remainder of sediment. I didn’t care. Tomorrow it would all just come again. I changed and headed to dinner.

A very subdued affair. Poor Keith was not doing very well and had to take the evening off from our not so ebullient company. I’m crossing my fingers that he’s better today. I sat with Abraham, Mary, Carton, Henry, Akiko, Cheri, and several other World Vision workers – the adult table I guess we’d call it. Across from us, I watched as the kids slowly went from the rowdiness of hyper-fatigue to a near catatonia. I felt bad telling them all that we would be rising the next morning at 6 to do interviews for Jake’s video. But we needed the light and really didn’t have a better alternative. I felt worse telling the kids they couldn’t just go to bed and rest up for the early morning call, but they hadn’t written their blogs and I wasn’t going to let that go. Every day is just too full of sights, sounds, experiences that we have to write each day for fear of “losing the moment.” Diligently they returned to their rooms and did what I’d asked. Seth even came to my room to type his very first blog entry! I am so glad he is on this trip. He smiles so brightly when he talks about what he sees, and while what he wrote made me smile, I believe I enjoyed watching him thinking and typing twice as much. It was especially fun to see him peering over the screen at Henry and my game of Scrabble. Unintimidated, he dove into a game with us as soon as he’d finished, and he only came in 10 points behind Henry! Not too shabby for a 12-year-old. After I walked Seth back to his room, Henry and I stayed up talking a bit about the conservation question. I see him struggling with the same questions I feel have been plaguing me since I first set foot in this country. From mentor to mentee, I think this is wonderful! From human to human, I’m sad to see him join me on what is a daily struggle to equate the world we know with the world we wish to see.

Jennifer – A Ten-Hour Drive

I am sitting across from God’s Bridge, an exquisite mountain separating two incredible lakes, both easily within view. The Paradise Lodge is truly just that. Two gentlemen are sitting behind me speaking in French about how perfect the six o’clock hour is for living. With the sun rising over an idyllic miasma of lush green trees, I’m inclined to agree.

Yesterday was neither the tortuous nor torturous drive I’d anticipated. We left Addis around 7:40 after another delicious breakfast at the Panorama Hotel. Two bowls of warm grain cereal prepared me well for the drive ahead. The scenery of outlying Addis was as I’d remembered – rows of dilapidated corrugated metal buildings intersperses with ramshackle shacks for people to sell their wares – anything from sofas to large filthy looking water drums either blue or yellow in color. People waved to us periodically as we passed and Mary, Seth, and I chatted nonstop with our driver Abraham and our guide Abraham, whom we referred to as the Abrahams for lack of a better solution. They were generous guides, explaining everything from the water systems to the supremacy of Ethiopian runners, a fact about which they are terrifically proud. We didn’t see the hordes of kids running in the streets with soccer balls – a memory very distinct from my previous trip. Neither did I see the hobbled donkeys that had disturbed me so. The driving, however, is the same: pedestrian survival appears to be optional as the cars use horns as a loud indication of forthcoming demise should you and your cattle not immediately vacate the road.

As we left the city behind, we found the corrugated buildings turn more into tucals, the typical thatched round homes that pepper the Ethiopian countryside. The clothing of the residents did not seem so traditional as more people seemed to be wearing various degrees of what I would call American-style clothing rather than the long white reams of cloth I’ve come to expect – especially from the women. The clothes were typically in various states of wear, some nearly in tatters – though the women always seem to have a burst of beautiful colors regardless. An intrusive thought had me wondering how they keep their clothing so vibrant when they wash them in pools of such dingy water by the roadside – Cheer and Tide take note.

Of course the further into the rural areas we got, the more frequently we saw children, especially toddlers walking without clothes, pants in particular. Bottoms to the wind, they still waved enthusiastically as we drove passed. At a certain point, the kids along the side of the road began to hold out their hands to us, pleading in an unusually happy tone, but pleading nevertheless for our empty water bottles. They use these to collect their own water. As I realized my own ignorance at thinking four years ago that they’d wanted money, Seth boisterously began insisting that his mom and I start drinking faster so that he could throw the bottles out the window to the cheering children.

After about an hour, it became necessary to stop for a bathroom break. We pulled into a World Vision ADP office and were escorted to an bathroom building with individual doors, not unlike what I’ve seen in Griffith Park by the merry-go-round. Of course when I entered one, I was immediately flummoxed by the large drain on the floor and the spigot overhead. Resembling a shower, the room did not seem appropriate for the purpose I intended, and after contemplating that certain bodily functions could not process through that drain, I quietly removed myself from the stall to check out the others. Imagine my relief when I went into the adjoining stall and found a toilet. Of course, relief could only slightly mitigate the horror at having almost peed in their shower. In the stall two doors over, Jake got locked in when the handle fell off, but thankfully, they were able to fix things quickly – that stall was not the type of place one would want to spend a leisurely morning.

We drove for several more hours, dodging cattle, goats, and a horde of monkeys dashing across the road. At one point, we even had to wait as two donkeys had themselves a romantic rendez-view (intentionally spelled that way for reasons I will explain to you OFF-line). Seth and Mary seemed to think my giggling and bright red hue were amusing. In hindsight, I suppose they were.
Lunch was the first real indication for me personally that I was about to start feeling the differences of Africa. The restrooms were now legitimately pits in the ground, and without practice, women are seriously compromised when it comes to this way of peeing. Holding onto the walls for dear life, I tried to balance, squat and not let my pants touch that floor – all for dear life. The food, too, was pretty tough to take. The chicken seemed somehow glued to the bone, and watching Henry break a sweat as he tried to tear at the bird poor Mary had long given up on, I wandered how hungry I must have been to consume my own. The others seemed equally uninspired by the pasta without salt and rather tough beef dish. Nevertheless, Henry continued to consume everyone’s leftovers before we all headed off for the remainder of our drive.

The road turned bumpy after lunch as we set out on the last 150 kilometers of the ride. It was nowhere nearly as bad as I’d expected. It was more roads in construction and pothole-peppered asphalt than the off-roading I’d thought we would encounter. Nevertheless, we slowed our pace as we attempted to mire our way through the dust storm kicked up by the trucks in front of ours. We stopped again at a beautiful lake to see the water while we waited for the last of our four cars to catch up to the caravan. After that, the Abrahams put us in the rear of the caravan to allow the others to set the pace, and it turned out to be great! Abraham, being the one in charge, then offered Mary, Seth, and me a couple of brief opportunities to stop – knowing Abraham (2)’s lead foot would have us catching up in no time. Our first stop was for BANANAS! We had only slowed down when the hordes of young girls surrounded our car shouting, “One burr!” and “You! You! You!” I pulled out a sheet of stickers and gave them to the kids. They laughed riotously as they placed them on their noses and cheeks and foreheads – thankfully distracted enough to know that we were not going to buy bananas from them all. When the first scrumptious bite of banana landed in my stomach I realized how starved I’d been for fresh fruit. Knowing only peeled fruit is okay to eat, we’ve be limited to none practically.

The following stop was a bit more spontaneous. I saw a truck in a small spring bed spraying water and thought, “What a great image!” I asked to stop and take a picture, but by the time the car had pulled over, there was a football-sized group of kids teeming between me and my photo. So I opted to take photos of them. Trying to tell them to stand back so I could fit them all in was pointless as they all jockeyed for the front position. Given that they were all carrying large bundles of sticks pointed directly at my head, this got a little precarious and so Abraham politely intervened and got me back safely to the car, but not before I got a great shot of a kid hamming it up with a mouthful of bananas.

The evening drew to close with a large table of tired people waiting “Africa time” for dinner. Translation: Poor Jake waited almost an hour for fish. Keith and I got into a heated discussion about the alleged purging of African American names from Florida voting in 2000, but other than that, the night was uneventful.

Jennifer – Middle of the Night Musings: A Special Note to All of Our Youth and Adult Board Members

Hello to you all…

It’s three in the morning and I can’t sleep. I thought I would take a moment to shoot an email to you all to say how much we miss you and can’t wait to come home and share the stories — especially the stuff we can’t put on the blog (some of the zingers the kids are throwing around when they’re cranky – yikes!) Just kidding (Yes, Billy, Sid, Matthew, and Yuko — I do know you’ll be reading this).

So far the trip has really been uneventful in terms of mishaps (Jennifer’s blowing up the hotel’s power notwithstanding). Matt and Yuko were both pretty tired today, and I myself was getting a little cranky this evening — our bodies are definitely out of whack. Henry is in top form helping with everything and for that, I am grateful.  It’s nice to have someone who will be late to dinner because he’s helping the petite Ethiopian maid move furniture to make room for the extra cot. Billy, meanwhile, is masterfully selling folks on his new dictionary of terms (he and Sid tried to teach Keith a few — I’ll let him explain sickity to you guys), and Sid is proving a remarkably easy-going travel companion. Sadly her hair is not enjoying Ethiopian air, and as a result she may be returning with dreds — more on that later. Jake, the newest addition to our crew, is really amazing with his ability to stay low key with the camera. He’s also showing himself to be incredibly well read on international politics — which is keeping some conversations lively. Isaac and Seth just arrived this evening, and though they’d just traveled around the globe, both seemed eager to get going — and wondering what the rest of us were all doing in bed! Thankfully I think everyone is getting along pretty well (I’ll let Billy explain why he dumped Matt’s soda out). Today’s drive will be the test for that though. Ten hours is the projected drive time.  The first 350 k will be on relatively normal roads, but all bets are off with the second half of the drive. I’m a little nervous about the behavior of my own stomach on this one, but we’re all going to load up on motion sickness medicine and cross our fingers.

The people we’ve met are just amazing! Everyone is very helpful and polite. (I just wish one of the workers could figure out why our room feels bit like a meat locker.) Abraham, the WASH engineer (Water, Sanitation, Hygiene — I forget what the A stands for) is very informative. He spent a lot of time telling us about the holistic approach World Vision is taking to changing these communities. And I was pleased to know that so much of it takes into consideration the Millennium Goals we’ve been talking about so much. It’s unfortunate that the budgets for the projects they are pursuing are nearly doubling in price with the increased cost of supplies. We’ll learn more about that as we travel. He also alluded to some of the internal challenges they are having with the Rotary projects which were supposed to have been started a while back (We’ll discuss this when we return).

I hope you all know that we miss you much. Hunter, the very first thing Seth asked when he arrived was where you were. He was very sad to learn you hadn’t made it, but I assure you that you are here in spirit! The rest of you, too, are definitely missed. We’ve already started a shopping list for things to bring back for you all.

Be sure to write us back. www.youthinkwellinethiopia.wordpress.com. Internet is spotty in the city, and I don’t expect to have Internet at all in the field.

Perhaps we may be surprised, but things here definitely work on a different pace. “Africa time” is real, and it warrants taking at least three times as long to do anything. So perhaps Internet will arrive in the rural areas… in 2040? Funny how I feel so lost without it, but I must admit it is liberating not to have a cell phone chirping with Office Depot emails like a relentless macaw.

I guess I should try and sleep for at least one more hour before taking on this incredible day. Before I sign off though, I want you to know how grateful I am to you for all that you have done to bring YouthInkwell to this point. So many of you have poured your love, energy, funds, and passion into the mission of empowering youth and it is only because of the hard work of many in the Well Project that we have been given the opportunity to bear witness to the world in this extraordinary manner. There is poverty and there is extreme poverty, and I believe with all my heart that we can work together to alleviate the systemic flaws, which allow these disparities in living standards to occur. But to do this, we will need great leadership. And it is my hope that YouthInkwell can provide this. I know sometimes we all get tired from the struggle of running a nonprofit—let’s face it, it sucks to struggle—but it is through struggle that we learn and that knowledge is what propels us to the tables where solutions can be found. Raising money and speaking out are two of the key components of “putting your money where your mouth is,” and I am proud that we have been able to accomplish everything we have done so far. Where we go as we move into the future will be up to us as a collective.  YouthInkwell may have started with me, but what we do with the power it has generated is now up to all of you. Think about what kind of leaders you want to be. Think about the priorities you set and ask yourself if they are true to you and true to the well being of the rest of the world. I have a feeling we here will be asking that question a lot in the next couple of days. And while the answer may not always be the one we hope for, life is about constantly improving.  So, we must try.

My love to you all. I am hopeful that the upcoming year brings good things for all. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.

I love you all very much!!!!!!

Jennifer – From the Director

Despite the fact that we had few scheduled activities this afternoon, we’re all pretty exhausted and looking forward to a good night’s sleep. I spent the better part of two hours trying to get the Internet moving beyond its glacier pace. Sadly, it never generated enough speed for us to upload photos for you to see for now. Keith and I did make to the airport this evening to pick up Mary and Carlton and their boys Isaac and Calvin. They stopped off in Germany en route and seemed to be in good spirits after visiting a Christmas marketplace while in Frankfurt. So our group of travelers is now complete.

Myself, Cheri Gaulke (film teacher from Harvard Westlake), Mary Blodgett & Carlton Calvin (Isaac and Seth’s parents), and Akiko Tamaoki (Yuko’s mom), and the kids:

Sidney, age 16, author, Youth Leadership Board, Westridge
Billy, age 17, treasurer Youth Leadership Board, Harvard Westlake
Yuko, age 15, Youth Leadership Board, San Marino High
Matthew, age 16, President, Youth Leadership Board, St. Francis School
Isaac, age 13, Past Youth Leadership Board, Polytechnic School
Seth, age 12, volunteer, Huntington Middle School
Henry, age 20, illustrator, UCLA
Jake, age 17, filmmaker, Harvard Westlake

We are preparing for the enormity of tomorrow’s travel — 10 hours, 650 km south to one of the hottest parts of Ethiopia. Because we are not able to drive after sundown (the roads are so poor it makes the trek dangerous), we will be rising very early. Then for the next five days, we will be in the heart of it all, seeing the sites of various water projects in an assortment of stages of completion. The areas where we shall be traveling are so remote that the access to internet will likely be nonexistent. So, if you don’t hear anything form the kids for a few days, fear not. We shall post everything on the 26th when we return to Addis. Thanks for reading and for supporting our efforts to educate and empower these amazing kids. And Happy Holidays to all!

Jennifer – Day 1

Well, I am writing this now after we have spent our first day in Addis Ababa. The trip here was long, but without incident.  I actually liked having the time to relax a bit.  Henry and I played three games of Scrabble and slept a fair amount of the trip.  In D.C., I had a chance to get a few last phone calls made (Patti, I’m sorry I didn’t get through to you!). It was strange how much each leg of the trip seemed to get us further and further from the “known.”  By the last leg, we were surrounded by Ethiopian travelers returning home and a large number of Americans who all seemed to be heading to Ethiopia to adopt children.  The food slowly grew less and less familiar and the sounds of the Amharic language began to surround us.  I had to keep pinching myself the entire way to really believe that we were on our way across the globe.  I watched the screen as it showed us passing over New York (my sister), New Haven (my mom), Worcester (my dad), Sydney, Nova Scotia (my mom’s family), the Atlantic, then Europe then Africa.

We arrived at the hotel and found that our rooms were much better than we’d expected.  Our last minute change in hotels has not turned out to be such a bad thing. Of course, there was an alarm on Sidney, Yuko, and my room that kept going off, but the staff fixed it rather quickly.  We all had a brief meeting in our room to remind everyone not to use tap water for brushing teeth  and then turned in for the night.

I woke up so refreshed.  The weather is a bit colder than I’d expected.  Definitely need a jacket here.  I showered in the hot but minute trickle of water that dribbled from the shower head and then proceeded to plug in my hairdryer.  I want it on the record that I REALLY didn’t mean to short out the circuit, blow up my hairdryer and cut off the power to the entire hotel.  REALLY I didn’t.  Thankfully, they fixed all of it relatively quickly – everything, that is, except my dryer, which is now on its way to an Ethiopian landfill.

We ate breakfast with Keith Kall, our World Vision guide, whom all the kids are now convinced is a bit of a rock star traveler.  He really is great. Calm but informative – and equipped with some stylish green eyeglasses to fit the super cool image.  We ate eggs and a kind of hot cereal that was too smooth to be called grits – but delicious!  The coffee, too, was fantastic.  And with our stomachs filled (Henry’s with three plates of food), we headed off to the World Vision headquarters for a debriefing on the water projects we are going to be raising money to support.

Sitting in the conference room, looking at the slides, hearing the stories, I am reminded once again of why it was so important for us to come.  I realize that we have egregiously oversimplified the need for help when we’ve spoken to our supporters.  It is not so simple as building wells. The collective approach to water, an approach that includes a sanitation and hygiene component, is really necessary to building a sustainable solution to the water crisis here.  We need to help people shift away from the paradigm of supporting a single well and recognize how crucial it is to build into the investment an educational component.  The local people need to understand the impact hygiene practices can have on a water source.  They need to learn how not to contaminate their water source with the cleaning of clothes and the defecation of both humans and animals.  Education is essential.  And I believe the need for education crosses the ocean to America as well. The YouthInkwell kids are going to be a unique position to challenge their peers, their parents, and others to look at humanitarian aid differently.  We must leave behind the notion that we should invest solely in a thing – a well, a school, a child.  The holistic approach that World Vision representatives spoke of this morning seems to make so much more sense. And when we invest exclusively in the “thing” we miss the opportunity to be part of a greater transformative effort.

The kids and I were talking with Abraham, the head of the water and sanitation department at WV, and we are excited to go back and share with the other youth board members and all who will listen the things we are going to learn.

After our meeting, we drove a bit around the city.  We stopped at a gorgeous orthodox church where we took off our shoes and went in for a look around. Henry and I sat for a moment together.  He looked at me and said, “Smile, Jen.” I told him I was thinking, thinking about how much I look forward to retuning to America and perhaps simplifying my own life, thinking of how much I still want to do to make a difference in the world.  So often we get caught up in the minutia of our own lives, we lose sight of the greater purpose – to make the world better for all.  I think this trip is going to be instrumental in giving us all a vision of what we can actually do to that end.

Lunch was shared in a dimly lit restaurant with traditional Ethiopian food.  The kids were amazing in their eagerness to try everything – the red spices on the table, the sour injira bread, the coffee with salt and butter.  At one end of the table, kids were learning how to eat the meet with bread while at the other Jake was challenging Keith a conversation about global politics. In the middle of the table, Sidney was trying various degrees of spice on her meat while Henry proved that he does indeed have a stomach with great capacity. We talked about the food, the shopping, the water projects, and the ten hour drive that awaits us tomorrow.

What a way to spend an afternoon.

Sidney mentioned to me after we left how cool she thought it was to be with everyone, and I nodded in complete agreement.

This is an incredible group of people to travel with.

Jennifer – Less than an Hour to Go

With less than an hour until we leave our office for the airport, I wanted to take a moment to tell you all a bit about this amazing trip we are going to be taking.  So many have asked us “What will you be doing in Ethiopia?” Well, the easiest way to give an answer is start by explaining what we do here.  What IS YouthInkwell?

YouthInkwell is a nonprofit company in Pasadena whose mission is to help kids use their writing and art to change the world.  Over the past three and a half years, we have published four books, the collective work of 49 artists, writers, photographers, and editors.  Through book sales, we have been raising money to build water wells. But while all that has been going on, we have been doing something even more incredible (at least I think so).  We’ve been challenging kids to be leaders, critical thinkers, and problem solvers.  These young people, ranging in age from 10-18, formed a Youth Leadership Board that has been leading the charge to run our organization: handling fundraising, public outreach, book sales, finances.   The idea behind YouthInkwell’s activities is a simple one: give kids the tools to take on the world.  Now, all of the kids we work with are enthusiastic YouthInkwellians, but it’s fair to say that not all are jazzed about building water wells. I mean they “get” it, but digging for water doesn’t necessarily INSPIRE them.  That’s okay.  In many ways, the fundraising for wells has been a bit of an exercise for them — we give them a cause and show them how to support it — so that, when they discover whatever cause it is that shakes them to the core, they’ll know just how to dive in and tackle the issue head-on…without fear or helplessness.

Many of the kids have been inspired by the building of wells. And that’s a big part of why we’re taking this trip. One of the kids (I call him “kid” with a wry smile on my face as he is now twenty-years old, taller that I am, and frequently giving ME advice) has recently shared that he is considering the pursuit of water engineering.  Henry illustrated the book I wrote when I first returned from Ethiopia four years ago, and it’s pretty neat that he is coming on this trip with us.  I think for him and me in particular, the point of the trip is to see what we started together in that nearly empty office with nothing but a table and cucumber green chairs.

I know many people have wondered why we’re doing this.  I am hopeful that the others who are traveling will speak independently to their motivations for coming on this trip.  For myself, I can say the reason is the same as the one for starting YouthInkwell in the first place.  I mean really. If I just wanted to build water wells, we could’ve built a lot more than we have with the resources we expended in creating this company. But the building of the wells is only one part of our story. We are investing in a journey of inspiration. And I believe anyone who has ever gone to a job he/she loathes or worse, greats with indifference will understand just how valuable inspiration and passion can be.

It is my hope that after this trip, there will be a solid group of dedicated citizens of the world who will endeavor to make the world a bit better. It truth, I think they have already begun to do. At least, they have certainly made my world better. This is going to be their story.

So why Ethiopia?  Why not?

Wish us a safe flight. It’s going to be a long one.

More later.

Jennifer – Two Days and Counting

It’s hard to fathom all that has happened since I first set foot in Ethiopia in September 2004. That trip changed my life.  That much I know. It’s changed a lot of lives. I know that too. (Feel free to read about it if you’d like…www.youthnoise.com/save)   In two days, I will be going back, not alone, but with eight young leaders and a few wonderful adults, all of whom have drunk a little bit of the YouthInkwell kool-aid so to speak.  I mean really.  I know I’m a little crazy.  Who else would break up with her boyfriend the night before Valentine’s Day and say, “I’m going to pour every last dime I have into starting a company for young writers to change the world”  — all in an hour’s time?!   1399 days later… I have come to see just how contagious craziness can be — and I mean that in the very best of ways.  So here we have it — a small band of folk (one only 12-years-old) who have agreed to get all sorts of shots just to miss the holiday season, spend thirty hours traveling, and tramp with me through a virtually unmapped area of a country more than half a globe away — all with the notion of tackling a water crisis of global proportions.  Let’s face it though. This world we live in is a mess, and I think a little bit of crazy is just what it needs to get back on track.  So, this blog will chronicle the travels of a group of crazy people.  And as a writer, I suspect that that alone will make it great reading.

I think it’s fair to say that every one of us has different expectations, hopes, and fears.  Some of these kids are leaving their families behind, all are leaving their creature comforts. None have traveled where we are about to go. Herein you will find the details of our trip.  I am hopeful that this will be an experience that you can all share in — in one way or another.  The world has a lot to teach us all. Perhaps through the eyes of some fabulous kids, we can learn even more.

For now… I’m off to pack. Wish us well.