Homeward Bound

I’m laying on my bed, my temporary bed, made of 3” foam with wooden slats, and I’m thanking God that it is my temporary bed, and not my permanent bed. I am going home tomorrow. Home certainly means more to me now than it has in a long, long time. Maybe more than it ever has. I am so grateful for my home, not just my house, but that place where I belong…that feels like home…

Like I’ve said previously, I’ve spent a lot of time while in Africa trying to figure out what I can do to help the situation here—I am a fixer by nature, I prefer to fix a problem, as opposed to just empathizing with you over the problem, and I really just keep coming back to one notion…empowerment…in so many ways, but it seems that the basic need is for the economy to get going here…people need to make money. So I’ve done a crazy thing, and I’ve gone into business with several single mothers who are caring for orphaned and vulnerable children. I am currently in the jewelry business! They make absolutely beautiful jewelry, each unique and handmade, and then they have no place to sell it. I have many, many friends who wear all kinds of jewelry, and are always looking for a unique, lovely piece. So I figure that maybe I can put the two together, and we can make a difference, in a small way, for a few people (but in their own lives, it will be a HUGE difference--I bought beads from one woman, and it is going to allow her son to go to University for the entire year...WOW!)

The women in Uganda make beautiful paper bead jewelry, and it is lovely. I have also seen some beautiful beaded jewelry, and I have learned that the beads comes from Nairobi, sold every week at the local market, where Kenyans come from all over, and bring their handmade beads to sell. The women I am going into business with, have no means in which to get the beads, so you guessed it…I went to Nairobi and I am going to get them set up in business. When we told the driver where we wanted to go, he tried very hard to persuade us that the local market was not a place that we wanted to be…it is dangerous for Mzungus, he said. I told him that I had to go there, regardless, so he said, “Well then, I guess I will take you there.” He proceeded to give us all kinds of instructions regarding who to talk to, who not to talk to, etc. I had done an internet search and already read up on the proper way to negotiate and bargain. I have tended to just pay full price while here, but I have learned that doing that is actually an affront to them, they consider it good practice to negotiate, love to get animated, upset, etc. and they don’t take it personal in the least, they just want everyone to be happy in the end. So I put my game face on, and dragged my unwilling family along, and went to negotiate for beads.

I started out by very firmly informing the men who greet you at the market, and want you to gather everything you want, and then they will negotiate a price (and take most of the price), that I was quite capable and willing to negotiate my own prices, thank you very much. I also quickly realized that I needed Tim to carry the money, and stay far away from me, so that I could bargain them down prior to him coming along, and sort of play a good cop/bad cop routine.

Let me just say that I had the time of my life. I alternated between having a great time, and being nervous and scared, felt like I was performing a show, wanted to be careful to pay a fair price, and came away with bags of beads. I would begin by asking them how much they wanted, then I would give a fairly loud “humphf”, and inform them that while I may be white, I had lived in Africa now, and I wanted the local price, not the Mzungu price. To which they would all inform me that they had given me the very best price they had to offer. Then I would inform them that it was too bad that was their very best price, because it was a terrible price for me, and I was unhappy. They didn’t want me to be unhappy did they? Oh no, what price would make me happy? To which I would respond with a ridiculously low price, and they would loudly “humphf” me back, and thus the dance would begin. We would haggle, negotiate, throw in items, take them back out, I would show them the money, walk away, make a sad face, say please in a whiny voice (they really like that one for some reason), I would inform them that I didn’t want their children to go hungry, but neither should they ask me to pay such a high price that my own children would go hungry—to which they would howl with laughter, and usually, we would come to an agreement on a price that was at least half of what they started with. I would always then ask them if they were happy, they would ask me if I were happy, we would smile, shake and go upon our day. We took four hours at the market, but I think I have a great supply of beads that can be the start of something wonderful for these ladies. They are so excited…and truthfully, so am I.

If any of you are interested, I have brought home lots of paper beaded necklaces, I am going to send back the profits to these ladies to help invest in more things like a paper cutter, various tools and jewelry making supplies, and my hope is that by making a living wage, they will be able to feed, clothe, care for and send to school the orphaned and vulnerable children that they have taken responsibility for. If any of you have ideas or leads on getting the jewelry into stores, email me! My hope is that I can provide a market for these women.

Tim didn’t make it home with us, we parted ways in Amsterdam and he is headed for Mali and Senegal, while we have headed home. We miss him, I feel for him, he was ready to come home, but this trip needs to happen, and it is so much cheaper to fly from Amsterdam, so he went…we are on our final leg of the journey, an 11 hour flight from Amsterdam to San Francisco…a stop at In and Out Burgers, and then a two hour drive home… I have one more Africa story to share with you (maybe more, who knows). I have had to de-worm the family…oh joy, that is a direct result of embracing the "Africa Adventure", of eating the cooked chicken off the side of the road, of playing in the dirt, with all the joys, there is a price to pay…and we are paying! So the worms have died, and they are now making their way out, in the only manner in which they can make they way out…enough said. TIA!

The best advice I can give you all (not that anyone asked me for advice…), is to cherish what you have, and count your blessings. I received a wonderful quote this week, that is very appropriate for me, and oh so true! Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of how much you already have.

I have arrived at home, spent last night in a clean, wonderful bed; I was clean, my kids were clean, the bed was so lovely and soft…hmmm….it was wonderful… I am now finishing this writing up, sipping a cup of tea. Life is good, I am surrounded by the familiar, all is the same, but I am different… I will never be the same, and I never want to be the same. I want to feel my responsibility for the privileges I have; I want to share Lillian’s message; I want to help my fellow sisters make a living; I want to share in the collective responsibility of mankind to provide for the children of this world the opportunity to thrive, to be fed, to have love and care and hope for a future; I want to reach out and help others, to share the load, to bear the burden, to do what I can do, to be a drop in the bucket…I truly do realize how much I have…more than enough...enough to share...

Thanks for sharing this journey with me, instead of it ending, I have a feeling it truly has just begun. I will blog at this location occasionally, so check it every so once in a while if you want—let the adventure continue! Love to you all!

Ciao,

Cheri