Education is the light

A final graduation in Dzaleka Dowa refugee camp in Malawi. This camp is only a quarter of the size of Kakuma, and they know how to make bricks, so the conditions are much better here. Twenty-eight new Regis Rangers! The procession starts with a parade through the camp. I like it; the paths are lined with children and their parents cheering their role models on. Singing, dancing (the salsa dancers that won “Malawi's Got Talent” perform; no kidding) and many speeches. The student speaker: "It is like the sun has risen and given us the light." It is hard to leave behind such kind, gracious people who have every reason to be bitter and angry, and yet are full of hope and vision. Yet it is time to go home. We’re ready to take a hot shower, drink tap water, not worry about malaria-crazed mosquitoes, and use a flush toilet. Yes, we’re sissies. No idea of what the next adventure may be; stay tuned.

We’re ready to go, but don’t want to leave

Packed and ready to head to Malawi. A tangled set of emotions — we’re ready to go, but we don’t want to leave. Didn’t expect the enthusiasm of these graduates and new students, the hospitality of their families and the community, and the camaderie that developed here at the UN compound. The first evening, Floyd and I had dinner with each other. By our final night, we basically had a party table of people from around the world, all focused on changing the camp through education. Folks from Chile, Egypt, Ethiopia, Ecuador — so many differences between us, so much in common among us (including a love of beer...) The fellow holding the camera is from Cincinnati — Floyd’s hometown! On to Dzaleka for another graduation. I hear that group has a parade. Stay tuned!

Floyd takes center stage

Final meetings with the graduates and the newest students. They have an afternoon conference, and requested the topic of “protecting the environment.” Right up Floyd’s alley, he jumped into an explanation of the key pillars of sustainability, and challenged the students to come up with ways they could reduce/reuse/recycle. He holds up a plastic bottle. “What are all the ways you could reuse this bottle?” One student starts with “you can make a child’s toy out of it...” and then the room erupts into one creative idea after another. After 45 minutes, we release them, but they refuse to go, huddling around Floyd, asking question after question. I tell him afterward that he’s made a real difference, and these students will remember him. Cool beans. Stay tuned.

“It’s not just about births; it’s about having healthy futures for our children”

Today — visits to maternity units to assess need for a mother-baby health certificate. Roseanne — pictured with me here — is the head midwife in a busy maternity unit. As a result of her clinic’s public health efforts, nearly 98% of women deliver in a facility and mortality rates have dropped dramatically. So far this year, 4 neonatal deaths and one maternal death — a quarter of what it was a year ago. The facilities are spare but clean. In discussion about an appropriate curriculum, the differences quickly become apparent. Roseanne tells me one of their biggest challenges is dealing with the amount of scar tissue that Somalian women present with due to genital mutilation; sometimes, she says, it is so thick the baby can’t be delivered without surgery. She speaks of the challenges of blending cultural traditions with modern healthcare. Some of the women refuse to wash the baby after birth, instead insisting on covering them in oil. Others believe they cannot breastfeed until they are blessed by a shaman, who may not visit for several days after birth. The first product of breast-feeding, when the most immunity is passed to the baby, is often drank by the husband. (I’m trying to be culturally sensitive here, but ick...). She is excited by the prospect of having trained public health workers who can support the work she is doing in the maternity ward. “They need to be custodians of their health,” she says, “but they need someone to walk with them. This isn’t just about births; it’s about having healthy futures for all our children.” She then asks me if I want to look at her “indicators,” the statistics about complications, birth outcomes, and volumes. Hence — the data come first in this post. I’m impressed, and I admire her passion and the outcomes she’s achieved. I tell her so, and she blushes. Stay tuned.

It’s all about the context...

Visited with the Senior Officer, Mohamed Shoman, here in the UN Humanitarian Compound. His primary focus is education — he believes it is the only way the camp itself will eventually become irrelevant. He is not open to just any education programs though, and I was glad to hear it. He believes that programs must provide open access, quality, and — the most difficult — proof of sustainability. There is often a trade-off between access and quality, he notes, and he is uninterested in one-offs or training that is not linked to improvements in the lives of the residents of the camps. I’m impressed, both with his passion and his thinking. As we talk, I note that there are steel plates that can be slid over the windows and double steel doors with bolt locks. This place can be turned into a bunker in a matter of minutes. Coming back to the compound, we move through three security checks, the last with a fellow walking around the vehicle inspecting the undercarriage with a mirror. I don’t know whether to be concerned or reassured — I settle on the latter. Stay tuned.

The most enthusiastic graduation I’ve ever seen!

Graduation day today! 300 people attended to watch 29 refugees from Congo, Somalia, Sudan, and Uganda cross the stage and become college graduates. Ten speeches (!!!), three dance troupes, two songs (including one rap), and three and a half hours later, we have our newest alums. Check out one of the dances by copying this URL into your browser: https://youtu.be/nE5R827O2V8. We’re not in Kansas anymore — or Colorado for that matter — as this was the most upbeat, excited, enthusiastic group of non-drunk students I’ve ever seen at commencement. Families danced, lunch was served, and I felt like a movie star — so many photos, with each student, their family, and, in some cases, complete strangers. An added bonus: it rained overnight, so it was overcast and almost cool this morning. In a diva moment I asked for a fan and it made the event not just tolerable but enjoyable. Tomorrow, visits to mother-baby clinics to start a needs assessment for a new specialization. Stay tuned.

Pretty much says it all...

In the refugee camp for two days now. I’ve never been fond of taking pictures to show how bad it is, but the second sign here pretty much sums it up....

“We are alive, but we have no life...”

Up before dawn to catch the UN flight to the camp. A couple of hours later, we were pleasantly surprised by a sunny but mild day with a lovely breeze. (I heard it’s 100 degrees in Denver so perhaps I’m the lucky one!)Staying in the UN Humanitarian Compound, we had a safety briefing about scorpions and cobras. Basically — don’t stick your fingers in any holes in the ground. Our first visit: the home of a recent graduate. Her whole family came out to talk with us. They brought out bottles of soda pop and served it to us in beautiful cobalt blue glasses — a rare possession that survived their flight from Sudan. I want to resist taking a sweet commodity from people who clearly have nothing, but they are proud people and follow their traditions. Their culture requires that they serve their best drink with us, even if it means they go without. I drink half a glass of grape NeHi. The father has been in the camp since 1992, one of the Lost Boys of Sudan. He encouraged all eight of his daughters to go to school, which is rare here. He knows it is the only way out for them. “We are alive here,” he says, “but we have no life.” Our graduate tells us she walked two hours each way on the dusty roads to get to the school. “It doesn’t matter where you learn; it’s about how badly you want to learn,” she told us. On to a computer class, where students are learning the fundamental skills to start their diplomas. They ask me to speak. “What you learn can’t be taken from you; you may lose everything but you will never lose your education. Persist!” I try to encourage them. With at least one student, it took. He stopped me afterward. “I have lost my family, my home, and all my possessions, but you are right, they won’t ever take this from me.” Yes, my friends, it is worth the trip. Stay tuned.

Can you put the lion on Floyd’s side?

Spent a day in the Savannah, with a private safari guide in an open Jeep. We saw more animals than we could count; the annual Wildebeest migration is underway. Was unaware zebras joined them. The herd was as far as you could see. A few pics here. You can see how close we got to the lions, and somehow they were always on my side. Headed to Kakuma tomorrow. Stay tuned.

A Massai warrior took us for a hike...

Arriving in Kenya a couple of days early, Floyd and I are on a safari in the Massai Mara, a national park and conservancy that’s in the middle of the savannah. Makes me feel at home — looks like the Great Plains. We were greeted by singing women who invited me to join the dance. Our tent is the size of my living room and has a shower and bathroom. I asked what keeps the lions away — the nearby canyon isn’t called Leopard Gorge for nothing. We were told the camp is guarded by Massai warriors, so I’ll sleep just fine. Our fearless guide took us on a rare walking safari. We were able to get relatively close to zebra, elon, wildebeest, giraffe, gazelles, and impala. We didn’t get close at all to the two hyenas we spotted. Back at camp, a lovely dinner fireside and early to bed. Up early for a day-long drive to find the migrating wildebeest. Stay tuned.

Into Africa

It has been sometime since I have been on one of these mission-aligned trips. This one will be the capstone of them all! Into Africa, to refugee camps, to confer diplomas on our students in these remote outposts. I am excited and anxious -- and that's just about trying to get all this stuff into two backpacks! So happy that my hubby will go with me. The adventure begins on Sunday. Stay tuned! ps I have used this blog since 2010 to follow my service trips to Ethiopia, Joplin, Viet Nam, and Nicaragua. They are in time order, most recent first. Should you want to read any of the earlier posts, scroll down and hit "older posts."