September 2nd, 2009

I'm Home

First of all, I’m home safe and sound after being in Africa for almost five weeks — no problem (hakuna matata). Secondly, thank you to everyone who sent well wishes and prayers my way. I felt your strength and support throughout. Third, the mission trip was wildly successful, and I’m totally pumped yet again. Fourth, yes I summitted Mt. Kilimanjaro. Woo-hoo!

As I doubt anyone has the patience to read through a 100-page summary of all my experiences, I’ll be merciful and brief. Maybe in the coming weeks, if you’ll allow, I can share a few more tidbits with you.

Regarding the Orphans Africa portion of my trip, here were some of the more memorable moments:

  • Sitting under the stars with one of our young teachers, Stella, while she asked questions regarding the stars, the sun, and whether the earth really orbits the sun, finally confiding that she’d like to be an astronomer someday. (Remind me to mail her a book on astronomy. . . .)
  • Doing an impromptu dance after using an outdoor privy. (BTW — cute, seemingly innocuous, little black ants move very quickly. They especially like the inside of pants. Shirts too. And bras. Plus they have a fondness for scalps. And they bite. Hard. And no, you cannot “do your business” faster than the ants can crawl up your legs. Tried that. Not possible. Not unless you’re super dehydrated, which begs the question, what are you doing in the privy?)
  • Singing and doing a different kind of dance with a group of African widows as we made our way down the dusty road.
  • Eating kuku (chicken) and wali (rice) for the one millionth time.
  • Telling someone in Swahili that my friend was feeling ill, but instead of saying mgonjwa (sick person), I said nguruwe, (pig). Seeing the look of confusion, I repeated myself until I was certain they’d understood me . . . (!)
  • Giving a speech in front of 130 orphans students at one of the secondary schools Orphans Africa is helping to build. (A year and a half ago, none of them were in school.) Afterwards the students sang their school song (which they’d composed) and danced for us. (Click here to see a video of the Mwaji Secondary School.)
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Our fearless team of mountaineers


Highlights from my climb include:

  • My team of friends and our fearless leader — what awesome people! Hi guys! Every one of them was encouraging, supportive, fun, and courageous! We’re BFFs now, no doubt about it.
  • Being greeted each day after a long hike by our African support staff, who sang and danced as we trudged into camp. Besides bringing tears to our eyes (I know I’m not the only one), it made us feel just a little less tired. What a great staff!
  • Scrambling up lava rock. Didn’t think this ol’ guul still had it in her!
  • The awesome views of Kilimanjaro and the surrounding valleys.
  • Summitting despite not being able to keep down any food or water on summit day. (Sorry, no pics yet. Maybe later. Couldn’t bring a camera as many digitals go kaplooie at 19,300′ elevation. I was using a borrowed camera, so I couldn’t take that chance. I know there were photos taken, so it’s a matter of hunting them down.)

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    Singing camp songs

  • Being up at the top with my friend, Connie.
  • Making it down safely with my friend, Connie.
  • Taking a hot shower at the end of it all.
  • Eating a pizza.

So after five weeks of incredible, yet exhausting experiences, as I was flying over the United States on my last leg of the return journey, I became very emotional. I was finally . . . at long last . . . home. That word has come to mean a lot to me, in ways I find difficult to put into words.

I’m home where communication is easy. Where we pick up the phone and call whomever we want, whenever we feel like it. Where we send off quick emails. Where we Skype or Chat. Where we can send documents across the nation overnight.

I’m home where the water is safe, clean, and abundant. Where I can turn on a faucet in my house and watch it pour out. Where I can take a hot shower whenever I want, or drink a glass of cool water straight from the faucet without getting sick. Where I can fill a kiddie-pool with a water hose. Water my lawn. My flowers. Water, water, everywhere.

I could go on, waxing eloquent about medical care (troubled as it is), our individual freedoms, pizza (oh my God . . .  pizza), life expectancy, pizza (did I say pizza?), transportation — but you get the drift. As I flew over Washington State I had to tell myself not to start bawling. But when I finally made it into my husband’s arms, I couldn’t contain the tears any longer. He wondered if something was wrong — maybe some kook had been bothering me on the plane, maybe I’d stubbed my toe — but I finally choked out that I was simply glad to be home. Glad to be back. Glad to have done it.

Yes, I’m home.

July 24th, 2009

I'm Off to Africa!

Well, this is it.

After weeks of scurrying around trying to get everything ready, I am still scurrying around at the eleventh hour. I have yet to gather all my vital paperwork, or organize anything. I then need to cram a mountain of stuff into my suitcases and backpack (sit on them first), and then drive the two hours to Tacoma, sleep, and fly out in the morning. So, please understand that this will be a shortie.

I’ll be doing Orphans Africa project work in Tanzania through August 13, at which time I’ll fly from Dar es Salaam to Arusha to climb Kilimanjaro. You can stay tuned to our expedition’s progress via a cybercast at www.AlpineAscents.com/kilimanjaro-cybercast.asp. Each day there will be a summary of what we’ve accomplished, where we’re at and how we’re faring, plus brief daily dispatches given by the team via phone and then relayed through the cybercast. (FYI — the lack of a current cybercast does not indicate a problem with the team. Mom . . . don’t panic.)

Thanks to all of you who’ve sent me your well wishes and who are offering your prayerful support for me, my OA team, and the expedition. I am truly humbled. You are the best, and I love you all.

Michele

July 16th, 2009

An Interview with Author Susan Marlow

Susan Marlow, Author

Author Susan Marlow

I first met Susan Marlow at a writers’ critique group, where we took turns critiquing one another’s book excerpt or short story. I immediately   “took a shine” to Susan. She was down-to-earth, insightful, and funny, her writing strong and resonant. Although at the time she’d not been published in the book publishing world, I felt confident that it was only a matter of time. Finally, after years of meeting together, there came a day when Susan excitedly shared the news: the editors at Kregel Publishers loved her book! Not only that, but they wanted more. More, more more! (Every author’s dream.) Now Susan is the successful author of the popular six-book Circle C Adventure Series for middle graders, starring spunky Andrea Carter, who can’t quite seem to stay out of trouble. Not only that, but a prequel series is currently in the works. It features a younger Andrea Carter and will be geared toward early elementary age children. Susan also teaches some pretty awesome writing classes and has produced a workbook for aspiring writers. (More information about Susan and her books can be found on her website: www.susankmarlow.com.)

Needless to say, I feel like a proud sister-mama when it comes to Susan Marlow. I recently had an opportunity to interview Susan regarding her work, her creative process, and her advice for writers:

HOW DO YOU GET YOUR IDEAS FOR YOUR BOOKS?

A lot of times I play the “What if?” game. For example, for Book 4, San Francisco Smugglers, I asked, “What if I sent Andi to San Francisco?” After all, there was a reason I set the series in California. That particular state has “more scope for the imagination” (to quote Anne of Green Gables)-both the country setting and opportunities to explore city life in 1880, as well. Once I asked myself the “What if?” question, I went looking for different opportunities for adventure (aka “trouble”) Andi could get herself into in San Francisco. I then used the internet and old biographies and writings from early San Franciscans to build the story. For Book 3, Family Secret, I asked, “What if Andi found out she had an older sister she never knew about?” and went from there.

WHAT IS YOUR WRITING PROCESS LIKE?

I’m a “by the seat of my pants” writer, or one who sees a scene playing out like a video in my head. Then I write it down. Later, I put all the scenes together with thought-out transitions. It’s a crazy way to write, but it’s worked for years.

DO YOU CREATE AN OUTLINE BEFORE YOU START WRITING?

I attempted to once. My mentor helped me create it. Rather than making things easier for me, I felt trapped. So I never looked at it once things started moving for me. I think outlining is a good idea, and I wish I could do it, but instead I struggle, waiting for my “muse” to kick in and do some creating.

IS THERE A PART OF ANDI THAT REMINDS YOU OF YOURSELF WHEN YOU WERE HER AGE?

Definitely. She’s who I would want to be if I could do it all over again. I was the oldest of four girls, and all my growing up years I wanted brothers-preferably older brothers. Andi’s got it made: older brothers, horses, freedom (most of the time), and interesting adventures. The life I’ve created for her is probably not reality, but it’s sure fun to dream!

DID YOU ALWAYS KNOW YOU WANTED TO BE A WRITER?

It’s not like I “wanted” to be a writer. I always was a writer. It’s what I did on rainy days when I was a kid, or when I had a free evening as a home-school mom, or while traveling long distances in the truck. Now, if you ask if I always wanted to be a published author, well, that’s a different question. No, I never really wanted to be a published author. I never thought about it until people started prodding me to look into it. I just liked to write. It didn’t matter to me if anyone read my stories or not. In fact, I preferred that they didn’t read them.

WHAT WRITERS OR BOOKS INFLUENCED YOU THE MOST?

As a teen, Robert Heinlein’s books influenced a lot of my writing at the time. He created outer space stories with real-life characters that came alive. I wanted to write like he did.

WHAT IS YOUR DAILY WRITING SCHEDULE LIKE?

Right now? Non-existent. I have no schedule. I’m up to my eyebrows with writing-related activities like marketing and editing (for money). And promoting. And more marketing. I just signed contracts for Books 5 and 6 in my Circle C Adventures series, and I’m very thankful they’re already finished and turned in to the publisher, because I have no time to write them!

WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST CHALLENGE AS A WRITER?

Thinking up new and creative ideas for more stories. Sound strange? Don’t all writers have dozens of story ideas buzzing around in their heads? Perhaps. But not this writer. I think it’s because my head is packed full of everything else that writing involves.

WHAT ASPECT OF THE WRITER’S LIFE DO YOU ENJOY THE MOST?

The opportunities that have come my way because I am a published author. I really enjoy editing, and I make a lot of money doing it-way more than the money from being an author (sad but true). I love meeting the kids and getting e-mails from them about how much they love my books. I like networking with other authors and writers. The hardest part for me is when I’m having so much fun with the writing-related aspects that the actual writing gets left behind.

WHAT ARE SOME OF THE MOST COMMON MISTAKES YOU SEE WITH BEGINNING WRITERS?

Since I have a lot of experience editing for a publisher, I see manuscripts in all forms. The manuscripts that bog me down the most are the ones where the (beginning) author has made the same kinds of mistakes over and over again: overuse of pet words like “just” and “that.” Overuse of “ly” adverbs instead of strong verbs. Overuse of “ing” verbs, especially being used as dialogue “tags.” Run-on sentences and wordiness, which usually involves a lot of telling instead of showing. OK. I’d better stop because I could go on and on about this. After 50,000 words of this stuff, I want to pull my hair out!

WHAT ADVICE DO YOU HAVE FOR ASPIRING WRITERS?

Learn how to self-edit your own work. Whatever it takes, whatever it costs, pursue excellence in your manuscripts. Go to writing conferences and gobble up knowledge like candy. Find an honest critique partner and learn from him or her. Never be in a hurry to finish a manuscript. And if you’re seeking publication: never give up!

July 7th, 2009

Yatima na Wajani

Most of you know that I’m leaving soon for Africa (July 25). But, I would guess, most of you don’t know why I’m really going. On the surface, you might say that I’m going just to scale Mt. Kilimanjaro and view the world from on high (19,300 feet). Or if pressed, you might say it’s because I’m catering to the adventuress in me.

But the real reason has been brewing for more than forty years. When I was a little girl, for some reason, the name “Africa” seemed to quiver with mystery. It was remote, exotic, and foreboding. . . . I’m not alone in my mysterious imaginings. Historically, Africa was known as the “dark continent,” not because of the dark skin of the inhabitants, but because the interior was so inaccessible that the Western World really didn’t know much about it beyond its boundaries. Though calling Africa the “dark continent” today is definitely not PC, and though the interior of Africa has long since been explored and exploited, the continent is still shrouded in mystery, conjuring up images of adventure, danger, and “other world-ness”. At least it did for me as a child.

Today, Africa is a continent in turmoil. I could go on and on about its troubles, but I’ll just mention one here that is germane. Due to AIDS, malaria, tuberculosis, and other diseases, there are currently over twenty million orphans in Africa. It is estimated that by the year 2010, there will be fifty million orphans. Africa is in the throes of a vast humanitarian crisis– a crisis that will only worsen unless the world awakens to its cry.

I first visited Africa in 2007. I’d agreed to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro with a friend of mine, Connie. But while we made plans, checked schedules, and tightened the straps of our backpacks, something kept bothering me. How could I just waltz into Africa (Tanzania), climb the mountain, and then leave with only a “thank you very much”? Didn’t I have a responsibility to effect positive change? Didn’t I have a responsibility, as Emerson wrote, “to make one life breathe easier”? This was the continent that had beckoned me all my life. Perhaps there was a deeper reason for that beckoning, a purpose beyond curiously fathoming its mysteries.

Orphan Schoolchildren I began to search for volunteer opportunities — you know the kind: fly in for a couple of weeks, teach at a school, sing songs, clap, smile a lot, and then show’s over. The schools were pristine, the uniforms pressed and gleaming-white, the students smiling and healthy. While this was all well and wonderful, I felt a deeper calling. After more searching, digging the dregs of the internet, we discovered a small, grassroots organization called the “Marilyn Orphans Projects Foundation,” founded by Zambians and Tanzanians. This ragtag group of nobodies went around building schools for orphans, staffing them with volunteer teachers, and putting orphans (yatima) in the care of kindly widows (wajani). This ragtag group had nothing and yet they were making a difference. Their vision, their passion, moved me to tears. I signed on to volunteer and managed to talk my husband, Carl, and my friend, Liza, into going with me. By this time, I no longer desired to climb the mountain.

We spent two weeks there. No running water, no electricity, no clean uniforms, no nothing except the extreme need of the orphans and the heartfelt goodness of the adults who were trying to help. We came home exhausted, but on fire. They needed our help and we were going to give it.

Since 2007, the three of us have founded a 501 (c) 3 nonprofit charity called Orphans Africa (www.orphansafrica.org).We have helped to construct three schools, each at various stages of development, educating several hundred students. In just a few short weeks, the dormitories will be finished in one of the schools, and we will then be able to house forty orphans. We have sent hundreds of books and countless school supplies and equipment. We’ve planted hundreds of trees on 80 acres donated by the Tanzanian government and will soon break ground on a self-sustaining K-12 school where orphans will learn agriculture and animal husbandry. Someday the orphans will be able to raise food to put on their table, while selling the excess in the market. Someday it is even our dream to send the most academically inclined orphans to university, and others to our on-site vocational training school, to help them become productive leaders and members of a struggling society. We have big plans.

In a few short weeks, we leave again — Carl, Liza, and me (Connie’s coming too — but later). This time we’ll travel to interior Tanzania, near Zambia, where it is even more primitive. There is little infrastructure, no medicine, no running water, and no electricity. Communication is by word of mouth, by bicycle, or if you’re lucky, a rickety car. Once there, we’ll meet with community leaders and revisit our strategies for the orphans. It is our hope to see new buildings rise out of the dust, witness hope spring anew on tired faces, and to see lives transformed. It’s the highest mountain I could possibly climb.

June 19th, 2009

Kilimanjaro Countdown . . .

Hujambo!

In five weeks and one day, I leave for Tanzania. The closer I get to July 25, the more nervous and excited I become. Nervous because there are so many challenges in Tanzania, culturally and physically, and excited because I’m only going to climb Kilimanjaro once, so here’s my chance. (Actually, that last thought makes me nervous too. Egads!)

With the exception of a few articles here and there, I’ve got all my equipment. But I’m baffled as to how I will cram everything into two suitcases and one backpack. If I over-cram, I pay a hefty $150 fee per over-crammed bag. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Don’t take so much. An ingenious thought on its own, but in reality it’s a recipe for disaster. You see, I’m not just climbing a mountain; I’ll also be living in the toolies for several weeks, with no clean water, no electricity, inadequate medical facilities if any, no linens, no internet, no communications, etc. I’ve simply got to be prepared for life in a vacuum — a disease-ridden, poverty-stricken vacuum. Of course I plan to do my laundry frequently (in a bucket), and I bring only a little travel towel, and teeny-tiny travel washcloths no bigger than tissues, but still, there’s my sleeping bag, my down parka, my insulated self-inflating pad, a second insulating pad (required), my hurkin’ kick-butt boots, two sets of long undies, three pairs of pants, six shirts (cool and warm), a light jacket, a sweater, six pairs of socks (3 thin/3 thick), thick gloves, headlamp, wool hat, baseball cap, sandals, tennies, my travel guide(s), water bottles, medicines up the ying-yang, etc., etc. (This is in addition to the volumes of books that I’ll be leaving behind in Tanzania, along with the bottles of Advil, bandages, extra clothing, laptop computer, pencils, . . . more on the whys and wherefores in another post.) Believe me, the packing is daunting. I’m not complaining, mind you, I’m just baffled by the logistics of it all.

On the physical front, I’m equally stymied. Last month in an effort to motivate myself and in a delusional belief that it wouldn’t take me long to bounce back from pneumonia, I signed up for a half-marathon on July 4 at Sauvie Island, Oregon. No problemo, I thought. Plenty of time. Well, that was before I realized just how far thirteen miles really is. (Why didn’t anyone tell me?!?) I’m now up to 8.25 miles running. (FYI, “running” is a relative term. It has nothing to do with speed, really. It’s merely a linear progression from Point A to Point B using feet and legs while huffing and puffing.) Eight miles is considerably shy of thirteen miles, and time is ticking. But it will be what it will be, and my health takes priority. I must not get injured. I’ll let you know how I do on the half-marathon.

I wish I could blog whilst (don’t you love that word?) in Tanzania. Alas, it’s Tanzania. The likelihood of my blogs getting posted are about as good as me running thirteen miles without stopping, walking, or collapsing altogether. But I promise to keep a journal, hopefully daily, and will blog my journal when I return. Meanwhile, I hope you will all keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I continue to prepare.

Tuko pumoja! (“We are together!” in Swahili.)

Michele