February 23, 2010 by
Twenty hours ago I departed from the Entebbe Airport in Uganda and I'm still one flight away from home. As I sit here in the Newark airport Starbucks I'm filled with a flood of emotions and memories: the joy of being only hours away from seeing my family, the sadness of leaving so many behind, the smiles of the Shanti Uganda women in Kasana who danced and sang for us, the looks in the eyes of the HIV/Aids positive children at the New Hope orphanage when we said good bye to them, watching my fellow seva challengers work so hard in the mud and rain side by side with the men, women and children of the surrounding villages to help build a school through Building Tomorrow.
Going to Uganda through The Off The Mat Into The World 2010 Seva Challenge was a little like doing a strong shot of Tequila. It was fast and furious, incredibly powerful and once it began there was no turning back. And like downing a strong shot, while I felt the initial jolt of the experience immediately, I have a feeling that my strongest responses are still to come. Not only am I certain that we made a difference in the lives of so many, but that I gained invaluable insight into myself: both where I shine and where I need to continue to work to break down the walls that keep me from truly stepping into my own power, my own truth.
I look forward to the days, weeks, months, and perhaps even years that I will spend digesting these past 2 weeks. I know that the ripples of this experience will carry me to new and beautiful places filled with the deep waves of joy and inner peace that can only be felt through our continuous efforts to serve others and to serve the God that dwells within each one of us.
If anyone out there reading this blogg is trying to decided wether or not to participate in next years 2011 Seva Challenge, I would like to put in a strong vote for, "Do It!". The process of fund raising can be difficult at times but as Krishna teaches us in chapter 2 of the the Bhagavad Gita:
"On this path of Yoga, no effort is wasted and there is no failure. Even a little effort towards spiritual awareness will protect you from the greatest fears"
In other words, any amount money and awareness you raise will carry with it them karmic seeds of positive change both for the recipient of your efforts and for you. Take that first step. Make the commitment to try and see where the universe leads you.
February 23, 2010 by
This is my experience in a nutshell: The Ugandan culture is complex, confusing and contradictory. Parts of it are endearing, warm and wonderful; others I can't even begin to wrap my head around.
On this trip, the OTM Uganda Seva Challenge group traveled pretty extensively through the cities and countryside villages, and what grabbed me most is the resounding spirit of a resilient and strong Ugandan people. I have witnessed extreme poverty, deadly pandemic disease, ungodly sanitation, as well as toxic air and water quality, yet wherever I went, I also noticed an underlying authentic joy, trust and a richness in community that I actually yearn for in my own community at home.
That said, there is a very strange dynamic; a juxtaposition of customs and morals. Some of what I've heard and observed that exemplifies this is below.
A local land owner and village community chairman (kind of like a Mayor) called Sam, told our group about the incredible Central Ugandan customs and rituals to honor the dead. Ugandans will often exhaust everything they have for funerals, even going without eating, to honor their dead. There are days and days of sacred pomp and ceremony. As Sam explains the rituals, I am filled with a sense of awe. I think: 'Wow, in States its typically a 2 hour viewing, then a couple of songs, a prayer or two, a few kind words and done."
In contrast, I'm told that in Uganda there is stigma and dishonor in being widowed. A widow is often chased off the land she rightfully inherits, and is forced to surrender everything after her husband dies.
Another example. One of our amazing guides and guardians for this trip was an Ugandan man named Joseph. He is the Country Director for Building Tomorrow, the international NGO which builds schools for vulnerable children all over sub-Saharan Africa. As our group was returning from an excursion one night, we noticed that for the most part local shopkeepers leave their goods outside rather than locking them up indoors. Joseph explains that the goods left out won't be stolen because there is a community agreement about stealing. If the thief is caught, community members, not police, go after the perpetrators. Men caught stealing are beaten, while a female thief is forced to walk down the street naked after community members rip the clothes off her back. As he told me about the community agreement my first thought was: "There is no way that anything left unguarded outside a store in LA or New York would be there the next morning, no way!"
However, this is the same Uganda where it is common and customary for a woman to be a chased by a man and if she can outrun or outfight him, she wins her freedom, but, if he physically overcomes her, she is raped and forced to become his wife.
One more. The able-bodied men, woman and children of Gayaza Village sing and pray as they haul wheelbarrows, carry bricks on their heads, and build walls for their Building Tomorrow/OTM community school. Again, I think: "In my town, this is done by a company that has little connection to the actual community. How incredibly cool would it be to have community members working on our local schools."
Yet, although up to 65% of people in communities like Gayaza Village have HIV, men, women and children known to have the disease are often humiliated, shunned and disgraced. Further still, this is the country that has introduced a law so punitive towards homosexuality that some human rights groups say that it would allow authorities to imprison and even kill homosexuals.
Yes, this culture is complex, confusing and contradictory. However, the more that I think about it, I recognize that there is a good probability that statement is true for all cultures.
And then I re-member my yoga. Yoga classes around the world often begin and end with the greeting Namaste'. For me, namaste has become so much more than a nice word or greeting. It is a way of being, a foundational way of life that invites me to find God in every moment, person, event or circumstance - even the complex, confusing and contradictory ones. That's what the mystics of old did and those of today do. So that's what I practice - right here, right now - even though, I often can't explain, don't understand and many times don't succeed. However, in every cell of my being I know that in the words of one of my favorite teachers "everything happens exactly the way it is suppose to happen in order for our souls to transform." So I just keep doing what I know to do - practice.
February 23, 2010 by
If you can walk you can dance, if you can talk you can sing - Zimbabwean Proverb
We have been here in Uganda for close to two weeks now and I am in utter bliss! Throughout this entire trip, each time we make our way to our destination, we are greeted by profoundly joyful songs and dances. The 20 women chosen to become staff at the Birthing Center created a welcome birthing tunnel of sorts and as each of us danced our way through the greeting lines we were sung to and strung with copious necklaces made of the paper beads that are such a strong part of the commerce and sustainability of this place. Then as we gathered in the straw thatched round "community house" where community meetings are held and decisions made, we were treated to songs in Swahili and English with each woman introducing herself by singing her name and as the dancing began some of us were plucked out into the center to tie around our waist the fur covered bustle that is made to enhance our behind and shakes like a giant lions tail. And we in turn sang back ...a song we had sung together in yoga that morning...a reminder to be present to the gifts around us..."see through my eyes, sing through my voice, open my heart, to the beauty of the world." As we arrived in the Shanti Uganda village for a bonfire and feast under the stars, another procession by the women and children playing plastic water jugs for drums and smiling as they welcomed us into the dance. Then I brought out my own drum, at first playing with the children as they gathered around and then finally gathering the whole village into a snakelike spiral dance that erupted into applause and celebration. Later that evening, as I sat by the fire, I tried my own hand at the water container drum and sang with the 15 or so local children, improvising and exchanging nonverbal melody lines in the universal language of sound. At the New Hope School, a more formal line of boys and girls comprised a chorus that sang a well rehearsed welcome song in English and that stuck in our heads for days "for our God is good and allowed you to come... we are happy to see you today!" And finally at the Building Tomorrow site, the unforgettable sight of 150 children gathered to meet us and all taking turns at playing whatever rhythm I banged out on the drum right back to me - most with an amazing and natural sense of timing and rhythm. That same number of kids following Seane and Nikki as they contorted their bodies into the funniest of yoga poses and remembered long sequences of dance moves as led by Victoria (who is now "reinspired" to bring dance to children). Every day in so many ways, we were surrounded by this unselfconscious expression of the life force and joy of using our bodies and voices as instruments of beauty. As a musician and teacher I have dedicated my life to helping others find their own voice and feel safe and empowered enough to give it form...and I come up against the fear, self consciousness and perfectionism that keeps all of that truth and beauty stifled and silent. I have worked to release those critical voices inside of myself and to help others to truly appreciate the joy that comes from creating art in each moment. I am not talking about the Art that we buy and sell and which must be packaged and sold to the over saturated ears of western culture but the sheer joy of allowing sound and movement to come through us. The sheer sensuality and aliveness that lies at the heart of each of us...an innocent and childlike voice, a voice that can express the full range of our human experience without thought to how it sounds and with only a willingness toward how it feels. This, in my opinion is our birthright and this is what brings us closer to our own divinity and this is how I wish to celebrate life in all its glorious complexity and this is what I love. I will never forget sitting on the red earth of Africa, surrounded with laughing children as we sang song after song into the starry skies together. More real, more alive and more truly grounded than ever before. My hope is that every child (and every child inside every adult) can find their own song and know the freedom that can come from allowing that song to be sung - into the beauty of the world.
February 23, 2010 by
Today was my last day with the kids at the Building Tomorrow school construction site. There was a mixture of work and hands on quality time with the children. We brought many activities to engage with them. There was drumming, jump roping, stickers, balloons, bubbles, coloring, singing and many hugs and pictures. It was overwhelming emotionally. I spent about an hour putting stickers on all of the kids and at one point "we are the world" came on the radio...I sang the words to them..."We are the world, we are the children, we are the ones who make a brighter day so let's start giving. There's a choice we're making...we're saving our own lives. It's true we make a brighter day, just you and me". Does everyone remember how it felt to watch that video when it came out? All different singers uniting for a beautiful cause. It was so inspiring, so full of love and life and hope. I just LIVED that video today. It was ME singing those words to these children in Africa. And it was absolutely surreal. This whole experience has been a gift from God. It has opened my eyes, my heart, and has deepened my willingness to connect with myself and others. Thank you to all of you who have participated in my journey. You have effected the lives of so, so many people on a level you will never fully know. God bless you all...
February 23, 2010 by
"When we are dreaming alone it is only a dream. When we are dreaming with others, it is the beginning of reality." Dom Helder Camara
Only half of Uganda's children finish primary school. Less than half of those children go on to secondary school, and less than half of those go on to university. I see those statistics and begin to feel hopeless. This week, I saw a rural village in Uganda come together to build a school and I felt nothing but hope. We arrived at the Building Tomorrow work site and were greeted by parents, grandparents, community leaders and, as always, plenty of children who instead of being in school, were showing up to build a school. There were songs, speeches, handshakes, and hugs. Then we all grabbed hoes and we got to work. We spent the next three days side by side in the scorching heat and in the pouring rain. We shared stories, sweat, songs, and laughter and, brick by brick, we built a school that will educate over 400 children each year. These children are not just statistics anymore. They have names and personalities; they have joyful hearts and eager minds...and now, they will have a school.
I have never met a child in the U.S. who has built his or her own school. I have decorated my children's classrooms back home, but I have yet to meet a parent there who has laid the foundation or dug the latrine. As I watched mothers with babies strapped to their backs swinging hoes and young giggling girls balancing bricks on their heads, I knew I was witnessing something more than just a construction site. This was a dream site. This community wasn't there to build walls with us; they were there to build a dream. A dream that will grow day by day, brick by brick. A dream that will, hopefully, extend beyond those very walls and that small plot of land. A dream that could very well someday change the statistical landscape of Uganda. I feel honored to have lifted a hoe, laid a brick, and shared the dream.
We are heading back to the Building Tomorrow work site today. My muscles, physical and emotional, are tired and sore. Like any muscle that has been overworked, my heart is beginning to show signs of fatigue. I wonder how far I can stretch it. I worry that my reach isn't far enough. I want to hold this pose as long as I can, but I know there are other postures that are just as important. I have children at home who need me too. They have warm beds, clean clothes, plenty of food, and wonderful schools, but they need their mother as much as any of the children here. They are part of the reason I am here. I want them to have dreams, I want them to know they can make a difference, I want them to witness their world up close---even the parts of it that aren't easy to look at. Our hearts can become weak and lazy if we don't use them enough. I will keep stretching mine as far as I can while I am here with the children of Uganda. Then I will return home and wrap it around my own children.
It takes a village to raise a child. African Proverb
Today it took a village to raise a school. I was happy to be a small part of that village. We drove an hour out of Kampala to a rural community where the children either do not attend school or have to walk a great distance each day to do so. We were greeted by a group of perhaps 100 community members. We took turns making bricks, hauling bricks, and laying them down one by one. We worked side by side with children, parents, and grandparents. We watched a wall go up brick by brick, a wall that will one day be part of a school that will serve some 400 children. Today I felt like I was making a difference. I may be just one person, but I am part of a village, a world village.
February 23, 2010 by
Today was a "rest day" for us to personally reflect on the happenings of the trip thus far and to prepare ourselves for our final three days of intense work. We had a 2-hour long yoga practice in the morning, and Seane gave us a lot to think about. In the spirit of Valentine's Day, she brought into question how we've been showing up and expressing love in our own lives, before and during our experiences in Uganda. How will we carry our new ideas of authentic love back to our everyday lives? What do we need to accept about our past in order to truly let go and love bigger? A lot of people had an emotional release. It took me a while to get there, but eventually, with the help of the Beatles playing in the background, I did. I realized that I'm still holding onto a lot of the sadness of 2009--the death of several loved ones. The fear of death itself. I'm always making acute adjustments in my perspective so that I can better handle this fear, but it keeps showing up again and again in the faces of the women and children I meet here in Uganda. Despite their contagious joy, my sadness lingers.
The women and children here do not latch onto their traumas and circumstances. They are constantly releasing emotions through passionate song and dance. Perhaps the men are so aggressive because they do not engage in these traditions. Most Ugandan men are addicted to alcohol, drugs, sexual abuse or power. They are acting out because, like most Americans, they are not moving the negative energy out of their bodies naturally. I can certainly relate to their struggles, and am so grateful for the support systems in my life that encourage the release of tension in my heart and in my hips every day. :)
I found out last night that I am the youngest woman on this trip. I am the baby. There are several life lessons that I have yet to experience, and I must remain patient with myself. I cannot be so critical and hard on myself. I must love myself and trust in my deepest truths to continue to love and serve others effectively. I think this will be my mantra for the decade.
Today, I sat and took the time to remember all of the great loves of my life. My very first valentines--Mom, Dad, and Grammy. The crushes, the necessary heartbreaks. My beautiful companion, Christopher. And especially, today, all of the 23 women here with me in Uganda, sharing an experience that will bind us together in love forever. You are all my valentines and I thank Spirit for this incredible opportunity to serve.
February 23, 2010 by
There are hard facts of life here in Uganda. You can find depressing statistics about the incidence of rape, the HIV percentages or the challenge of educating girls. All have so much effect on what it means to be a women here...but its really not so different at home in North America. Maybe that's why it was so hard to write this because in all of the women we meet I see my mother and my sister and myself.
There are equally positive statistics to quote about the number of women in government in Uganda and the ways the government is trying to get more girls into post secondary schools and all of the work that the people we meet are doing.
I met with a journalist friend here who is writing about the gay community in Kampala and the proposed new bill. He is looking to write a story on a lesbian who has been raped. I think he was expecting me to be shocked to find out that that is what happens to 'cure' lesbianism here. But the rape story has been told over and over and over to us in so many ways that I wasn't shocked. I just added it to the list of the how's and the why's it can be difficult to be a woman.
And then we were at a birth.
I lack the words to describe the power and the beauty of that experience.
This 17 year old girl, who was alone with her sister, who is now a mother has quite a job in front of her. That baby girl might have the odds against her but I have to be hopeful for her future.
Mothers, sisters, daughters, women get to be all of those. I will get to be all of those.
At 32 years old, I did not arrive in Uganda a girl but I feel like I am leaving a woman.
I had dinner at a womans house named Bubeera last night. She lived in a 6'x8' room with her 10 year old daughter. (her 3 sons hours away with their grandmother). We sat on the floor and ate by lantern light/cell phone flashlight.
She is HIV+. She is alone and raising her child. She is very very lucky.
Bubeera was chosen out of 600 applicants to be part of Shanti Uganda's www.shantiuganda.org <http://www.shantiuganda.org> income generating group. They make jewellery out of paper beads which they also make. This group brought 26 women together chosen for their dire circumstances (to qualify you have to be HIV+, widowed or raising children/grandchildren on your own) and they are taught how to make the jewellery, run a business, and manage money. They have a self elected leader and full control over all of their profits. The money they make is used to pay for their homes, send their children/grandchildren to school and to buy better more nutritious food. Better food improves their health which makes it easier to deal with HIV.
So, Bubeera is lucky. Lucky that she now has some control of her life. Lucky that she now has some choices. Her daughter is lucky too...as now she has a chance at going to school. Pardon my over simplification but education is the key to poverty.
They say you educate a woman and you educate a village/nation. I think you give a girl access to education and you give a girl access to choice.
February 23, 2010 by
After visiting the clinic, we spent the next 2 days at the construction site of the new birthing center, the very center each our donors contributed to when they donated to this project! It was very exciting to participate in building the center and to know that these women were going to have a beautiful place to go with plenty of clean water, brand new supplies, proper medicine and a comfortable place to rest while they are in labor and after they give birth. We learned how to make bricks and lay them. It was extremely hard work. They don't have equipment like we do at home...everything is done the HARD WAY. My most touching moment at this sight was witnessing a 90 year old woman show up to hoe the garden. She didn't speak any English but she came and sat down next to me, placed her hand in mine, and spoke to me. I learned that she had fallen down and hurt her leg. Her knee was swollen. She walked all the way from her home to the site and back every Wednesday to participate in this project. To put things in perspective, I was tired after working there for 2 hours and we were able to take a bus back to the hotel. This woman walked all the way back to her home with a hurt leg and in the intense heat after she worked all day. I was beside myself. I couldn't help but to break down in tears. It has taken me 3 full days to move past that moment. Experiences like this challenge you on every level. They bring forward emotions like gratitude, joy, sorrow, grief, hope, shame, guilt, and so so so much love. I was absolutely humbled...and so thankful to have shared that time with her.
One of the most important parts about this trip is the yoga our group leaders Seane and Suzanne so graciously lead all 23 of us through first thing each morning. Many of you are wondering how I can be exposed to such circumstances day after day and be able to handle and process it accordingly. The answer to this question is the yoga practice. Each morning we are led through a series of movements which enable us to open our bodies, minds, and spirits. This is done in such a way that we are able to release our stored tension and bottled up emotions so that we are able to move into our day clear and open to the new experiences in store for us. At the end of most days we reconnect for group processing, which consists of 1-2 hours of sharing our experiences about what we are witnessing. The morning and evening gatherings are designed to help us work through our internal issues so that we can be as effective as possible out in the community. There are a lot of tears but with them an unfathomable amount of support available at all times.
On February 13th we went to the New Hope School and Orphanage. I painted flouride on all of the kids teeth and it was adorable how willing they were to accept the treatment. There were about 80 kids at the orphanage, all HIV positive and from ages 7 months into their teens. The money raised for the orphanage went to new mattresses (all of the kids slept in stacked up bunk beds 3 high in one small room), a new water filtration system (because they had no clean water)...as well as a garden to grow food. We brought them tons of activities including paper and crayons, frisbees, books, soccer balls, stickers, jump ropes, etc... they were SO HAPPY and excited. They sang to us and played with us. We read them books, took and printed pictures for all of them, painted a mural on the wall, taught them yoga, and educated them about dental care. $150,000 of our fund raising went into that orphanage...money well spent. The interesting and very moving part about the orphanage was the manner in which the children engaged and disengaged with us. They wanted to be part of our group and the activities which we offered, but they were careful not to get too close to us because they are used to abandonment and the pain associated with it. In addition, they are used to a high turnover in teachers so they really don't have a constant caretaker in their lives. Anyone who shows up eventually disappears. One child came and held my hand as we were walking through the grass. She looked up at me with hope in her eyes and asked if I was going to come back again. I had to tell her "no". She looked down at the ground full of sadness. The children had blank stares on their faces when we were packing up to leave. We gave them a short burst of extreme love and happiness, only to have to leave them as they have been left many times before. This was very difficult for me to process. I contemplated whether or not our visit did more harm than good and it reminded me of the saying, "better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all". All in all, I decided it was definitely better to have loved them for the short time we had!
February 23, 2010 by
"Souls don't have races or sexes or religions. They are beyond artificial divisions." Beliefs separate, loving thoughts unite us. Today started off with intrigue, curiosity, excitement and ended with joy, yet sorrow. The orphanage was built first with a vision, then came the passion, then it took strength to reach out and New Hope School and Orphanage was born. The man who started it was Godfrey in 1997. He started New Hope on his own. The kids are street kids - some have no mothers, some have no fathers, some have neither. Most of the children are HIV+. New Hope provides a safe environment to educate, learn and thrive. In order to do so it takes visitors like us, OTM, to raise money and support these children so they have clean water, food, shelter, and education. OTM has helped this year by creating a water filtration system, supplying mattresses, and school supplies. Upon arrival we were greeted with song in our native language from the children that made my heart dance with joy:
It's a long, long way from oh Canada to Uganda
Passing over mountains and sandy rivers
But our God is good who has allowed you to come
We are happy to see you today
All day long we were engaged in activities with the children. We played with frisbees, jump roped, read books, parachute games, and engaged in playful yoga postures. Leaving the games on our way back to join others, one of the children grabbed my hand. It made me realize how the children crave any sort of human contact, love, or affection of any kind. During the course of the day many pictures were taken of these beautiful children. At one point I turned to show the children their picture through my camera lens. They giggled with excitement at their own reflection. I realized right then, how much we take for granted - some of these children might have never seen a reflection of themselves before. We left a mural on their school wall so dreams and the magic will and can continue. Leaving the school was hard for most of us. A feeling of sadness loomed when asked when will we return? The children of New Hope are thriving for love, support and just a hug. I hope I can go back and give each of them a hug. I hope that other volunteers continue to build on this wonderful foundation. It became apparent to me that a sponsorship program is needed at New Hope in order for these children to continue on this positive path of learning and growing, feeling safe and loved. I am so humbled and honored to be part of these children's lives.
February 23, 2010 by
I can barely feel my hands. Today I helped birth a baby girl. I feel a very deep vibration.
The image of 5 women holding one as she was going through the process of bringing a life into the world is one that is going to stay with me forever.
The following is an excerpt of an email I wrote to my mom...I hope she doesn't mind but its probably the most real reaction I am going to get down...
I helped birth a baby today. It made me want to talk to you.
and when I say I helped birth a baby I mean I saw everything and was holding her leg when the baby came out. It was the most intense thing ever. I cried.
It was so weird - there was no baby and then there she was all slimy and gross and crying and being manhandled and held upside down by her feet.
The mom who was 17 years old and named Myriam was 8 centimeters when we arrived at the birthing center (um, I thought we were just going to be getting a tour) and she was in labour and we helped. Sarah who is on the trip with us is an actual doula and there was a lady getting a c-section so she went in to help in that room and we (me heather and amanda) worked with our mom. We held her hands and helped her walk around outside, tried to get her to stretch and squat, drink water. She was scared. Sarah had a wicked bag full of tricks...lotion and oils and stuff that really seemed to help but when it was time, well, right before the time time, she was on the floor and I had her head in my lap and my hands under her shoulders and there were 2 women on either side of her and we were all basically holding her. She didn't know us and we didn't know her but I felt so connected to everyone...and everything.
It wasn't pretty or easy but then there was a baby...I feel like my soul is vibrating a little.
When we left mama was doing okay - she asked for a coke
The whole thing made me think of you and I hope that you felt supported and safe when you were going through and that someone was holding your hand. And that someone gave you a coke afterwards.
So, I can't seem to stop crying. The reality of giving birth in Africa has many shocking things but I am going to leave this one here...
February 23, 2010 by
The guy in town is happy that we are building Shanti Uganda. He sells more nails. The men from the village are happy that Shanti is being built. They have jobs and new skills. The women are happy that Shanti is being built. They will have safe empowered births. Sam the neighbour is happy Shanti is being built. The price of property in the area has gone up.
The entire community is fully stoked and supportive of the project. And for me, its so tangible. There in that building are all of the Tula Karma classes, all of the calendars, all of the birthday bags of cement...and we haven't even been to the school site yet.
We have accomplished the most amazing things. All of us. With all of you. Together.
Highlights were stomping in "mud" (debate rages on as to what the mud consisted of), ride on the boda boda with Heather (motorcycle, well, dirtbike-ish), making sculpture on the wall of the birth house with mud, and Seane teaching the men at the site yoga.
We had a traditional lunch and dinner...enthusiasm was waning slightly by this point for matoke and the g-nut sauce.
The night finished with a spectacular sunset, and a starry night like only Africa can deliver.
February 23, 2010 by
We've spent the last few days in a small village outside the town of Kasana in the Lerrwero district. Here we were working with an organization called Shanti Uganda founded by a 27 year old women from Toronto named Natalie Angell. The Off The Mat Into The World Seva Challenge was able to to provide Shanti Uganda with $150,000 to build a new birthing center for a group of women who have HIV/Aids. We spent the past 3 days working at the site and it's going to be amazing!
Before this Shanti Uganda project, the options available to these women for how to birth their babies have been beyond dismal. Not only do they have little or no access to education regarding the HIV/Aids and how to take care of themselves and their babies who will most likely also be born infected, but the don't even have a clean and safe place to go to birth their babies. Needless to say, a high percentage of these women and children are dying in the child birthing process. There are hospitals here but they are very far away and these women would have to walk an incredible distance (sometimes even for days) to get there. Once there, the protocol for birthing babies is to basically strap the women down to cots with their feet tied up in stirrups and not allow them to move through out their labor and delivery. Why? For one thing, they have no way to keep the birthing area clean and sterile. All they can use is one piece of plastic under each woman. Because of this they have to make sure no blood or anything gets anywhere other than on that piece of plastic. Many of these women end up having to have c-sections often times with no anesthesia and no sterile surgical equipment. It's so scary for them and as a result most women will choose instead to give birth in their homes. Just in case you have a romantic idea of what a home birth in a rural area of Uganda might be like, let me tell you that most of these women are so poor that their homes are dirty and uncomfortable and the babies are being delivered in unsafe ways with little knowledgeable supervision. Again, a high percentage of these women and babies are dying during the birthing process and many more after due to the HIV/Aids virus which they themselves might not even know that they have and even if they do, can't get medication for themselves or have their babies tested.
Natalie's vision for this new birthing center in holistic and completely sustainable. It will have a building for pre and post natal check ups, a room with beds for the women to stay in while laboring, a birthing room that will even have a birthing tub in it, a sterile room to hold all the birthing supplies (and our group brought enough donated supplies to keep it stocked for a long time!), a recovery room for mommy and baby after birth (in hospitals they are forced to leave right away) and 6 fully trained mid wives on staff. The birthing center will also have a community house where both Men and Women will be educated about the HIV/Aids virus and how to avoid spreading it. The community center will also be where women can learn various skills like beading and textiles so that they can start to generate income for their families.
While it will take another year until completion, this project is already having strong effects on the Kasana community as it has provided employment to many son's in the area who had no source of income before hand. We worked hard side by side with them mixing mud, and laying bricks. Women too are involved, planning and starting an organic farm on the premises offering their input and letting Natalie, the founder of Shanti Uganda, know what their needs are and about their important birthing traditions. In this way, some of their methods can be gracefully combined with some of the more modern midwifery techniques that will be used.
Though the sun beat down on us all day as we worked, it was a true labor of love. This birthing enter will change the lives of these women and their families for generations to come.
February 18, 2010 by
New Hope School is an orpanage for HIV+ children, and it is located in Entebbe, about an hour outside the capital of Kampala. The school itself has nearly zero resources. Right now they only have 1 teacher and few administrators to serve the needs of the 80 children ranging from toddlers to teens. There is one big classroom, that has long group desks, and 1 blackboard that is in very bad condition. I cant imagine that it is easy to write on and to be able to use for lessons, but Im not sure how much that matters as I didn't see any chalk around anyway. They also have a few small rooms as well, all with dirty cement floors and walls, the biggest is the dormitory that house bunkbeds that are 3 high. I realized quickly that there were not enough beds for each child to have their own, and that many are sleeping 3-4 in one bed. The stench from the dorm was pretty bad, and the reality is that the younger ones wet the bed, and there is no one and no way to clean or sanitize the mattresses. Not to mention none of these kids get regular baths, and when they do rinse, the water is not clean. The bacteria and germs that fester in there no doubt lead to serious illness. Like most HIV+ people whose immune systems can not protect them, it is the secondary diseases that are deadly. Of course nutrition and clean water for drinking are also a huge problem here, but what makes this place so different from the other places we've been working is the debilitating lack of love, appropriate touch & affection these children are deprived of.
With a portion of the funds that we raised (clearly OTM knows how to stretch a dollar...right?) we purchased new mattresses for the dorm, we bought a variety of seeds and helped them with the garden so that they will have better nutrition and more sustainability, two water filtration systems so that they can have clean water for drinking & bathing, and school books because education is the only chance these kids have of surviving.
Our mission for the day was to present them with these gifts but more so to play with them, to shower them with the love and affection they so desperately want and need, but never do they get.
We brought so many fun activities including jump ropes, 20 some soccer balls, a huge parachute, we did yoga, and danced and read books. We split the kids into small groups and rotated them through so that they each had a chance to play with all of us and to experience all of the activities. While all of that was going on we also painted a beautiful mural on the wall of their "library" (I use that word generously as they dont have many books), applied a fluoride treatment to their teeth, that have never seen a dentist (we also left toothbrushes & toothpaste) and we took a picture of each child. This was really cool, as these kids dont have mirrors let along pictures and many have NEVER seen themselves. So we printed out a headshot of each beautiful child and put it in a plastic frame for them. It was a delicious experience. Each little face wore a unique expression. Some were ecstatic, others more reserved yet some of them wore bright smiles for the moment but you could see the loneliness in their eyes.
I bounced around and did all the activities, then settled in the picture room to read with the kids while they were awaiting their turn for the photo. At first I was just reading to them, but soon I realized they wanted to read to me. They were very excited to practice their reading " and to prove to me that they were "good" and I soon had a group gathered around. They were sitting on my lap, squishing in on both sides hovering over my shoulders and even sitting in front and reading upside down. In a chorus we read aloud, and I walked them slowly through any words they didnt know. I made a point to touch them all, to rub their backs, to look them deep into the eyes, and to tell them how smart and wonderful they are. Typically this is what ones parents do, but unfortunately for these kids they dont have parents.
The day was a great success, and the children had a fabulous expierence, laughing, playing and having the time of their lives. But soon, it was time for us to leave. We still have a few more places to work while were here, so just this one day was all they got. We gathered the whole crew together, our group and all of the children to take group photos and to say goodbye. By this time I had two young ladies who has attached themselves to me, one holding each hand and not letting go. They had been with me all day long and I knew that my attention was meaningful to them. I walked them over to a small bench under a tree (one of the only small places in the entire yard that actually had some shade) and I told them that they can make something of their lives. I told them that they were smart and beautiful and that if they study hard, and focus on their education that they can create a good life. I hugged each of them really really hard. I told them to hold me tighter and we took a few very deep breaths together as we embraced as though that would allow my love to penetrate deeper into their souls. When I released the hold one of my ladies looked directly through me, tears beginning to stream down her face, and she told me that she needed a _______. ( something I didn't understand). I asked her if that meant a teacher and she shrugged and said "not really but yes, we need someone to show us". What she was asking me for was for someone to love & take care of her. And to that, I had no answer. My bus was waiting, and I had to leave.
As we pulled away, they all stood outside watching us drive away. They didn't chase the bus laughing and waving like the other places we had served on this journey. Instead they looked very sad. They know, as well as I do, that they will never be adopted. They will not get to university. In fact once they reach a certain age, they are to go back to their villiages that have no jobs waiting, with their limited education and no resources. They will marry and have babies. They will struggle and will continue the cycle of poverty & disease. The women, many will be raped, others will work tirelessly until they eventually die of HIV or during childbirth. The men, they will be so disempowerd by their inability to provide for their families that many will turn to violence or addiction. It will be a miracle if even 5% of the innocent faces that we saw today actually get out of this situation. These kids dont get the ARVs (HIV medication), no one is going to pay for that.
This was just too much for me to handle and once we pulled away I lost it. The emotion came uo so strong and so fast that my entire body began to writhe with pain. Chest convulsions, runny nose, inabilty to take a breath. I couldn't pull it together. WTF????? This is not fair. These innocent children do not deserve this. I am a spiritual woman, and I can usually see the the upside, the beauty, and the grace. But right now I just cant. We just frickin drove away and left them all there to suffer unloved. I know that we helped to make their life experience a little better. I know that the garden and water are invaluable, that the mattresses will greatly improve their conditions for a while and that the books will offer the only chance they have. But what doesn't sit right in my heart is that we came in for 1 day and showed them what it feels like to be seen, loved and cared for. Then we just left.
I honestly dont know if it was kind or just plain cruel to do what we did. I know that our intentions were in the right place, but I just dont feel good about it. I bet that those kids are going to cram into their new beds tonight, and lay there thinking about us, wondering if we'll ever come back. But we wont. I keep thinking about the guest registry book that we signed and the column that asked for reason of visit. All of the entries on the 2 pages before me said they were there to "drop off their children". There wasn't a single visitor. Not one! The reality is that these kids know abandonment more than any other feeling. And we just came in and did the same damn thing. I know most people think it's better to have loved and lost. But after today I'm not so sure. I guess if you really look at the big picture, I'm a 35 year old woman who has never been married and has no kids. Perhaps I've always disagreed with that cliche'.
February 18, 2010 by
"Souls don't have races or sexes or religions. They are beyond artificial divisions." Beliefs separate, loving thoughts unite us. Today started off with intrigue, curiosity, excitement and ended with joy, yet sorrow. The orphanage was built first with a vision, then came the passion, then it took strength to reach out and New Hope School and Orphanage was born. The man who started it was Godfrey in 1997. He started New Hope on his own. The kids are street kids with no mothers or fathers and all have HIV. New Hope provides a safe environment to educate, learn and thrive. In order to do so it takes visitors like us, OTM, to raise money and support these children so they have clean water, food, shelter, and education. OTM has helped this year by creating a water filtration system, supplying mattresses, school supplies and left a mural so dreams and the magic will and can continue. Leaving the school was hard for most of us. A feeling of sadness loomed when asked when will we return? The children of New Hope are thriving for love, support and just a hug. I hope I can go back and give each of them a hug. I hope that other volunteers continue to build on this wonderful foundation. I am so humbled and honored to be part of these children's lives.
February 18, 2010 by
Today our OTM group left our hotel at 7:30 to head to below the mouth of the Nile to go river rafting. As we headed out on our two hour drive, there was plenty of talking before most people settled into their own space. The towns market signs kept me entertained during our journey. "Tasty Smokies","Ultimate Secretarial Bureau", "Not for Sale, You Do it At Your Own Risk!", "Yo Choice Restaurant", "Open Happiness" (Coca-Cola), "Paint the Price and We Paint Your Dreams",and finally, "We Strip the Facts Bare", (The Independent)
When we arrived at Adrift White Water Rafting, everyone was in high spirits as we signed our lives away legally and heard the safety lessons. We then divided into groups, "Wild" and "Mild". Within our group there were definitely strong feelings on which group each of us wanted to be in. We each got a life jacket, a helmet, and an oar and met our guides. As we descended to the edge of the Nile, some individuals confidence level did the same. We were directed to get into the boat and Suzanne and I took the helm,water warriors. Once in our boat, Sudu gave us instructions on how to steer the boat and prepare for different types of rapids. We would be experiencing Class 2, 3, and 5 rapids. When our group of learned the boat could tip over us and we could be under it, some of our group's fears began to rise. As we headed to the rapids, we fought the fears by describing other areas in our life that gave us strength: Mountain biking, sky diving, and being Yoga instructors. Vulnerability played within us and one another's devotion won. We began. On the first class 5, two of our teammates flipped out and we retrieved them quickly. We enjoyed the class 2 and 3 rapids and endured the class 5's.
While our boat of women tackled the Nile white waters, one thing we couldn't tackle was the dam that was being built in the very area we were riding through. We were told a man from Italy is buiding the dam to "give water to the entire country of Uganda" which is hard for our group to believe. We were also told the World Bank is behind it from a financing standpoint which also saddened us. None of us can understand how a group of men can consciously decide to destroy one of the world's greatest rivers and the communities that depend on it. Not an easy part of our journey to process.
February 18, 2010 by
February 11th is a very special day for me. Twelve years ago on February 11th, I gave birth to my son, Charlie, and became a mom. My world was forever changed. This year I was in a tiny African village on February 11th, trying to find a way to honor the rite of passage I hold most dear in my life. When I was given the opportunity to work in a local birth Clinic, I decided this was the perfect way to celebrate Charlie's birth, as well as my own birth into motherhood.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced. We entered the birthing room, a small cement square with two birthing beds separated by a fabric curtain. My senses were immediately assaulted by the smells of shit, sweat, blood, and tears. It smelled strongly of both life and death. A young 17 year old girl named Miriam lay on one of the beds. It was covered in a plastic garbage bag that the birthing women are required to bring themselves. There are no clean sheets, pillows, ice chips, or even bottled water. If you need it, you bring it---otherwise you go without. They go without a lot. I noticed that the metal stirrups were covered in rust and the floor was splattered with blood. Miriam was in labor, she was alone, and she was terrified. She spoke English and asked us to pray for her. She was certain God was not with her, that she had done something wrong, that she was going to die. I held her hand and assured her that God was there, that she was strong, and that she and her baby were going to be fine. A little voice whispered in my ear that this was Africa where things often go wrong.
I spent the next 4 hours determined to prove that voice wrong. The doctor told Miriam she would have to have a cesarean if she couldn't get the baby down further. In Kasana, a cesarean is often a death sentence. We convinced Miriam to climb off the birthing bed and start walking, squatting, swaying, breathing, singing---performing that primitive birth dance. Four hours later, I held her hand as she delivered a healthy baby girl and cried happy tears as another mother was born.
Later, she looked at me and said, "sister this is our baby." She even asked me to name her. I told her I had already named my babies and it was her turn. She giggled like the 17 year child that she is and said , " I want to name her baby Miriam after me." Then she asked for a coke. Seane raced to a roadside stand and brought back two cokes. Miriam beamed.
I have no idea what happens next in the story of Miriam and Baby Miriam. I wish I could write them a happy ending, but this is Africa where things often go wrong. Then again, we could prove that voice wrong if we all really tried.
February 18, 2010 by
I made a brick this morning! There is a contraption (I hesitate to call it a machine because it requires so much manual labor) that you put dirt into and then put all of your weight into pulling down a lever to compact the dirt into a brick. Totally awesome. I also helped with interior design of the birth center. We molded extra mud into the walls to create the shape of branches, flowers and leaves. This was a challenging project but a lot fun. After two days of work I love the fact that I have very dirty fingers and toes!
As we were leaving the birth center for the last time, we rounded the corner in our enormous bus and out from behind the bushes came all of the men that were working at the site with us over the past 2 days. They completely surprised us-- rushing out into the open, screaming wildly, waving and smiling as a farewell to us all. It is difficult for me to describe why this was so emotional for the entire group We worked with these men intensely for two days, sharing stories and information about our cultures. They are the exception to the stereotypical, male Ugandan-- these men were thoughtful, kind, understanding, generous and supportive. Natalie is so fortunate to have them on board for her dream project, and it was so moving to see their appreciation for our presence in those last moments.
Before we left Kasana, we went to Natalie's home for lunch and enjoyed, yet again, the traditional Ugandan meal. That's our fifth time eating Thanksgiving in 3 days. I'm all starched out, but am very grateful for the local hospitality. They don't eat like this every day, but insist that we do as their guests. After lunch, we opened several of the bags full of donations for Natalie to see. We finally got to see the magnitude of what we collected. Natalie says the birth center will be up and running even sooner now that she has nearly all of the supplies they need to operate.
Sarah, Heather, Amanda and Davian (plus Seane and Suzanne) stayed behind to help deliver another baby at the current birth center as we road back to the Sheraton Kampala. We were blessed to hear about this healthy birth later in the evening during group processing. We found out that today is Amanda's son's birthday. She gave birth to her first child twelve years ago today. She said, "12 years ago I became a mama and I helped someone else become a mama today." That really struck me. I feel special to be one of the 24 women in the room to hear that lovely realization.
I have mixed feelings about returning to Kampala. I am very aware of how lucky I am to now have amenities like bottled water, air conditioning, regular toilets, and a comfortable queen sized bed. I am also constantly thinking of our new friends that don't have these things. I lived for a few days in the Kasana volunteer house, and even there we had fair showers and working toilets. Most people in the village are walking miles for water and going to the bathroom in small cement holes. As a guest in their village, I was in no way roughing it, but now I just feel positively spoiled. I can understand a little more clearly now why people have incredible difficulty transitioning back into their normal lives after visiting a third world country. There's no turning back from what we've witnessed and experienced here, and in many ways I'm compelled to live among these people despite the constant struggle of their lives. The love I feel is so intoxicating it's easy to forget the daily hardships they endure.
Each night we take about an hour to check in as a group to make sure everyone is feeling fine and supported. It's also been a nice opportunity for me to remember some of the things I've forgotten. So much happens in a day, it's difficult to remember all of it. There's just one last thing I'd like to share...
Yesterday, when a group of us were taking a break from work, an old woman slowly walked towards us to sit in the shade. The woman did not speak English, but Natalie told us that the woman is ninety years old and walks to the birth site every Wednesday to help. She had hurt her leg. The woman sat and spoke softly to Jen, one of the participants, for several minutes in a language that none of us understood. Minutes later, she slowly stood to make her trek back home. We said goodbye.
Ninety years old. How will we show up when we reach her age? What will we be willing to do for our community and our children? She is way past the ability to conceive, so she is clearly coming to this site each week to see a project thrive that will support her granddaughters and great-granddaughters. She is an example of love at it's finest. I am in awe. May the Universe forever bless the great women of Uganda in all their strength and magnificent beauty.
February 18, 2010 by
We started the day with an inspirational yoga practice on the grass outside of our volunteer house. We formed a circle with our mats and did a few sun salutations, standing poses, and backbends. Seane called on some participants to bring their intention for the day into the circle. Spirit flowed through each speaker. At the end, we did call and response chanting with Suzanne. I think the locals must be proud of our ability to sing and dance freely, with passion. Most Ugandans believe that "mzungus" don't know how to truly express themselves and are very entertained when they see us doing things like hard labor or walking in our barefeet.
After breakfast we headed out to the new birth house. We rode motorcycles there!! The ride was INCREDIBLE! I've never been on a motorcycle before and it was one of the best times of my life. Here, they call the motorcycles "bodas," and it's the best way to travel around the villages. People will often say, "I'm going on a boda boda." It's my new favorite thing.
When we arrived we were split into small groups to rotate around the facility, learning about the different aspects that go into creating the birth house. We literally laid the brick. This is exactly what I told my donors I would be doing, so I was very happy. We stomped in the dirt and water with our bare feet to make it soft and muddy, and then we laid the mud thickly on the foundation and stacked bricks on top. We left a little space between each brick for more mud, and really packed it all in. I marvel at the fact that just a few months ago, this land was covered in jungle. Now buildings stand half finished and roads are cleared. There were no bulldozers to do the job, simply strong hands. I am still grasping the fact that our money is funding the creation of this sacred place.
When we took a break for lunch, I split from the group to sit with Joseph, our driver. I really love talking with Ugandan people. Joseph is so nice and welcoming, always a big smile on his face, happy to see us. We talked about the differences in Ugandan and U.S. culture. I've found that no one really judges the U.S.; they are simply interested and often surprised. Joseph asked me how many children I want to have and I said, "One. Or two at the very most." He thought that was crazy and asked if there was a law in the U.S. that said people couldn't have more than two. He thinks I should have 5 or 6! He asked how many siblings I have and I said I was the only one. He was shocked and said it must be harder for me to get married. I asked why he thought this and he said, "Since you are the only one, it will be hard for your parents to give you away." In Uganda, men still pay a dowry for their wives and own her as property. Joseph told me his father died when he was young, and when his mother re-married the new husband kicked Joseph out of the house because he was another man's son. He moved to Kampala, but still considers his village home. His mother's husband recently passed away, so Joseph can now go back on holidays to visit his mom. Joseph says I should stay and live in Uganda. He has become a great friend in only four short days. He is always making sure I've had enough to eat, and always concludes that I never eat enough.
After lunch we went on a walking tour with Sam, a neighbor to the birth center. His family owns a lot of the land surrounding the site. He showed us his home, his father's home, and his grandfather's home. In 1982 there was a war in this part of the country that lasted for five years (separate from the war in the north) and Sam's family was forced to leave. When the war ended, they returned and all of their homes were still intact. He showed us his family's graveyard--at least 20 long tombstones populated the area. Sam explained that Ugandan's take burial very seriously. People must be buried with their families, and a woman is always buried with her husband's family since he bought her. Sam does not necessarily believe that this is the only way things should be in the world. He simply states that this is the way it is in Uganda and has always been. He was a very loveable man.
After our long day of work at the site, I was feeling EXHAUSTED! I was dangerously close to not going back for the evening party with the women due to a severe headache. I drank three bottles of water, took some ibuprofen and was good to go. As soon as we arrived, there was singing and dancing. The children were shaking their hips like mad and skipping around in circles with us. There was a big bond-fire in the center of the site and as the sun slowly set, it became our only light. The sunset was absolutely beautiful- exactly as I imagined it should be- sinking slowly beyond the African trees as the stars came out, one by one. The night sky is brilliant in the middle of a remote village, and it brought tears to my eyes. I had one of those "I-can't-believe-I'm-in-Africa" moments.
I played with an adorable little girl most of the evening. My tongue was red from the powder I added to my water for hydration, and she wanted a red tongue too, so she took the second half of my bottle and drank it, sticking out her tongue periodically so I could confirm her mouth was red too. I tried to teach her to touch her tongue to her nose, but she didn't quite get that one. She walked around with my bottle for the rest of the evening, proud of her red mouth.
Tonight is our last night in Kasana. Mosquito net here I come.
February 18, 2010 by
$150K of the money raised last year is going to an organization called, Shanti Uganda, started by a woman named Natalie Angell. Natalie is from Vancouver and studied Ugandan history in college. She decided to travel to the country a few years ago and discovered that the birth practices in Uganda were very aggressive and negative. She wanted to provide women with information about safe and supported birth practices. When she connected with Off the Mat, her dreams of building an eco-birth house were realized. She chose the village of Kasana because of her connection to the current birth center there, started and run by a nun who is also a midwife. Natalie's intention is for the new birth house to be a training center for midwives and dualas throughout Uganda. Women can visit, learn, and bring the information back to their own communities.
Kasana is an extremely remote village about an hour north of Kampala. Now we're starting to see parts of Uganda that we imagined in our heads: the bush, the scattered mud homes and narrow, blood red roads. Usually when people need an Internet connection they have to drive to Kampala! When we arrived, we checked into the volunteer house, which is much nicer than any of us expected. I am sharing a small room with Sarah, one of the fellow seva participants. I feel lucky to have her in my room because she is a Duala back in the states and these next couple of days will be simply incredible for her.
After check-in, the group traveled about five minutes to get to the current birth center, to meet Natalie and the women in her "Women's Group." The group is comprised of 26 HIV positive women, chosen out of 600. Some of the women have children, some are pregnant. All of the women are on ARV's while they're in the program. They make necklaces out of recycled paper beads as well as fabric handbags for profit. Natalie makes sure everyone is paid equally each week, that the women learn to manage and save their money, and provides business training. After a certain period of time the women will graduate from the program and receive a certificate of completion. They set short term and long term goals together. They are encouraged to improve their nutrition while in the program. It took a while for the women to come together peacefully. Often, women are in competition with one another because polygamy is practiced in this part of Uganda. In the beginning, women were stealing from each other and trying to get others kicked out of the group. They've been together for a year now and because of the high standards that Natalie sets for them, things have become much better.
The women greeted us with a lively, upbeat song. Everyone was beautifully dressed for the occasion. We immediately started singing and dancing with them, as we were lead into a small pavilion, women tossing recycled paper bead necklaces around our necks along the way. The nun/midwife that started the birth center was there and she gave the women a lesson in safe birth practices while we watched. Then the women sang two more songs for us and we sang one back. It's simply beautiful. We were all laughing and dancing together, happy to meet one another. They had made us an intricate fabric banner with beads sewed in that said, "THANK YOU OFF THE MAT!" Many of us got teary, considering how long it must have taken to make the banner. I can't remember smiling this much in a long time.
After our heart-felt greeting, we all sat down to lunch. The women cooked us delicious, hot Ugandan food- even better than what we ate yesterday for lunch. There's this awesome purple peanut sauce that you can put on anything!
After lunch we split into groups to learn how to roll beads (I rolled 2 decent beads!) and teach yoga to the women. I taught Warrior 1 and even with the language barrier, we all did really well. It was really fun to just play in the grass, yogaing and dancing to Suzanne's drum.
After several hours with the women we returned to the volunteer house to clean up. Sarah, my roommate, stayed behind to deliver a baby in the birth house! That evening we were split into groups of five to have dinner with one of the women from the group. It was like Thanksgiving! We ate a lot of the same food we had at lunch- beans, white rice, potatoes, mashed banana with peanut sauce, squash, spinach, watermelon, pineapple, pumpkin, passion fruit juice, cabbage, and more. There is a lot of starch in the Ugandan diet, so the hopes and dreams I had of losing weight on this trip are completely dashed. The house we ate in was very small, with just enough room for all of us to sit around a small table, packed with the food. There wasn't any electricity, so all we had was a small, battery powered light blub to see our food. The woman that prepared the food for us was so gracious and spoke little English. She did not eat while we were there, and she did not let us help set up or clean up. Ugandan hospitality is out of this world, and I found it hard to simply receive.
On our bus ride back to the volunteer house I thought back to how nervous I was about this trip, only a week ago. It seems so silly now. Each moment has held beauty all it's own, I wouldn't trade it for anything. It's only been three days and I already feel forever changed. This journey is one of the greatest blessings of my life.
February 16, 2010 by
Birth: raw, rich, emotional, sensual, intense, calm, powerful, and hopefully supported. As a doula (birth assistant), in Minneapolis, my main goal is to make sure that the mothers I am working with are fully supported in every aspect of birth. And that was my motivation for joining the 2009 SEVA challenge; to support the woman of Uganda in birth.
30 women die every day in Uganda due to childbirth complications . . . I knew this country was in need, but what struck me most was the loneliness the woman here face during birth.
Expectant mothers come to this local birthing clinic, typically solo and bring with them their own birth supplies: a plastic sheet to birth on, 2 pairs of gloves for the midwives, and a baby blanket.
Where as a typical birth in the U.S. uses a dozen pairs of gloves, half a dozen sheets, handfuls of washcloths and most importantly their partner, possibly a doula, friend or family member.
I was blessed to be at the clinic for two days and support 4 women through their births (1 cesarean) . . . without the help of Off the Mat Into the World, and the team of us that where there that day, these women would have been unsupported. There was an incredible transformation for all of us in the bare room. New life was given and women on both sides were empowered. We ALL were supported and full of spirit . . . but to know that there will be unsupported births, at this clinic and hundreds of other places around the world today, is hard one for me wrap my head around.
It is our birthright to be loved and held up, especially in times of transformation.
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