Hi!! I’m home, back in Toronto....it is wonderful to be back, this time...not at all like last year, there is a huge difference...I know where I am going with my work in Africa now, a focus, direction – raising money, for the HURUMA Orphanage..see below..way below!!
...and toward the MASAI GIRL’S EDUCATION FUND...a huge thanks to everyone who donated last year. We are sending 19 girls to secondary school now, girls who without your support would be at home, at age 13, married, pregnant and toiling with little.....In Masai country the men look after the cows, the women do everything else: caring for children, building the bomas, collecting water, wood, cooking, washing, cleaning, care of goats, cows and raising money to support their families...

Now through ICA TANZANIA, these girls will have a chance to finish school, to become teachers, doctors, lawyers, tv announcers..whatever it is they dream....with a promise to bring their education and leadership back to their communities...I interviewed every one of them, some in schools, some at home in their bomas with their families; 6 had run away to the safety of the school, unable to return to their families where they would be whipped and beaten and forced to marry old men, for a dowry of goats, cows. The head mistress allowed them in..and paid herself for their uniforms, food, bed, books....they were now in form 2 and 3..but without sponsorship would be unable to graduate and move on to further education or jobs without paying their back fees....This program is allowing them that. One girl was forced to leave school this year, half way through, with no funds...now she is back, with a supportive family, she is lucky..she is the Masai girls in the pink checked sheet.

As well...ICA TANZANIA supports two HIV AIDS positive groups, each with 35 members, mostly women, as men are still adverse to going public with their status...the stigma is still high. Most of these women have been thrown out of their homes by their own families and their husbands who have left them; once small business owners, perhaps women who sell their somosas, rice, bananas, they have lost everything; with children and grandchildren to look after, and with no resources now of their own...life is terribly difficult for them. IN these HIV AIDS positive groups they support and work with each other; they are all on the Anti Retro Viral drugs given freely by foreign donors and their governments to keep the virus at bay. Most feel well, but long for support to start their own mini businesses: rice, bananas, cooking, baking, etc....but cannot afford start up fees...

We are sponsoring, thanks to you! several women now....but I hope to do more in the future, thank you!

I have often felt, that what we have is NEVER ENOUGH...but I am told when i am there, over and over, that every little bit counts...and if it can make a difference in one person’s life, in one family, this is good...so very good, so let’’s keep it going....

I’ve got four speaking engagements set up already, and am looking for other opportunities to share my stories, pictures, projects - so if you know of any organization or group I could come to speak with, schools, churches, Probus, Rotary, private homes, grandmothers, etc.....please let me know.....

I've written extensively in the last few months - no, the last two years - about the Home Comfort Orphanage in Mto Wa Mbu....the kids I loved to take swimming, the shelves, benches and tables we had made, Seanna and Sierra and all the fun they had teaching art, the safaris, Elia - the little guy i wanted to adopt..all of it.

Well, it was wonderful to spend time with them, to work with them, and i will never ever forget those little kids...and as well, I am sorry to report that, in March 2008, I discontinued all forms of support for that orphanage, realizing that they had ample resources of their own. They did not need my help.

But with every cloud...as they say, somewhere out there, there is a lining....

MOVING ON...the HURUMA ORPHANAGE, Mto Wa Mbu.....

Things in Africa catapult – way more quickly there than they do here.
Things are simpler there, maybe it’s with lack of bureaucracy, you just move on, and get things done.

It’s Wednesday at 4: - 5 days to go before I leave for Canada. The Home Comfort Orphanage project was over. Thank you to everyone who offered sponsorship support - it would have been great. And to those people whose donations provided wonderful things for those kids....full day safaris both years in a row, tables, benches, shelving, samosas for 38 people every Sunday, bananas, avocados, clothing, sheets, towels, swimming...I was so glad to help.

Back to...
Wednesday at 4: The ICA office was filled with volunteers, students, youth, generators, tv., videos.. waiting for Charles to jump into his truck and off we went to another HIV AIDS awareness workshop - this time in a small village buried deeply into lush green hills, about 200 people sitting on the grass, benches, rocks in the middle of a forest grove – all ages, babies being nursed, school kids, older men and women.

Me. I am despondent. I want to get out, take off, to Arusha, to Nairobi, anywhere...two months of working in that place, it's finished, and what about those kids?

But here is Charles, my ICA Project Coordinator, who insists, you are coming with us. He is the kind of person who looks at a situation. Is it working, is it not?? If it’s not, then move on...forget the old place - they don’t want you or anyone else interfering in their business. Take every thing you know and transfer it over to a place that needs you, who wants you. “tomorrow, I am going to take you to see another orphanage, tomorrow at 8am. We’re going!” I am like, are you nuts? Charles it is Wednesday, I am leaving Monday. There is no time. And I don’t want to go to another orphanage. He insists.

The next day he picks me up, with Elizabeth our ICA nurse, and Peter, a student volunteering with ICA over his spring break from school in Uganda. My gawd what are we doing?? I am thinking.

Off we go, not too far, just off the main road, we turn left onto a road wedged between the stalls of artist’s just on the edge of town. A small sign painted on an arrow marks this second orphanage, newly opened just three months ago - THE HURUMA PRE SCHOOL ORPHANAGE. It is still in the Mto Wa Mbu area, in a district called Majengo, flat with lots of land, small impoverished houses, a farming community. This place has 53 kids, aged 2-6 - ten who live in (sleeping five kids on two single beds – widthwise, one for the girls, one for the boys), the rest living with grandmothers or relatives in nearby homes.

All have lost parents to HIV AIDS. The orphanage operates out of one main room with a cement floor in the middle of the Director’s house, no desks, chairs, the children are sitting on the floor. There is a blackboard propped up at one end, one window with little light. Dark, cold, derelict. Jutting around the perimetre of this room are 4 little rooms each one rented out by families. There is a mud floored passageway filled with little shoes, next to pools of water from last night’s rain, running out into the back yard area - a big open space with a stick shed operating as a kitchen, chickens and ducks plodding about.

This place was thrown together from the heart, out of need - not from the pocketbook - by people in the neighbourhood, a loosely knit group of farmers, village district leaders, small business people, each one donating what they can..dropping off food, assistance, services. There is one disfunctional toilet at the back of the yard behind a screen. That is it. This place has absolutely NOTHING - no books, furniture, paper, crayons, pens. The Board, consisting of the director, a few local village govt types, neighbours, donate money for the salaries of two teachers – that’s it.

We sat down on benches at the side of the classroom, 40-50 little children on the cement floor. The teacher is up at the front of the room, laughing, smiling, directing the children. He introduces us. They said their hellos, in English, in Swahili, in unison, they sang, spoke, they stand up, sit down, one little Mirium gets up in front of the group and leads a song about orphans. Lively, happy, vibrant. These kids, genuinely engaged and enthusiastic.

Charles has been working with the director, a local farmer, on the HIV AIDS issues in this area for three years; he knows him well, and trusts him completely.

I sat, watched, wondered, and thought. I got up and did songs with the kids. These weren’t my old kids, but new kids, dirty, poor, with only one outfit on their backs; but they were happy and alive, and surviving as best they could what life had served them - surely they deserved as much of a chance. I pondered.
I talked with the director, the two teachers, with the two local govt people who are on their board. I walked around outside. I interviewed a couple of kids, watching the activities going on in the big yard behind them, the children laughing, playing together, gossiping, having fun...like kids should.

It was Thursday; I am leaving Monday. No time. But something turned around inside. All of a sudden, we are laughing, singing, playing. I open a big suitcase filled with art supplies, we pull them out, one by one, art supplies that were to go to the other orphanage. . Okay, my gawd, so much to do, but let’s get started!! But first of all, before we start. The money. They have nothing. I am the first foreign donor to really see this the place. They are not on the main road attracting safari tourists. How to get started on the right foot right off the bat. I wasn’t going into this without Charles, busy as he is, without ICA TANZ. support. The Director asks Charles to put together a strong Board, to be their Financial Director in charge of all financial donations and dealings. He says he wants nothing to do with the money. He knows the other Board members but he does’t know how an infusion of money into this orphanage might change them – he wants to focus on the kids, not the money, wants only to manage the place, get it going for the kids. I can't believe my ears! Wow!

We draw out the ten live in kids and take a group picture. Then the ten who will be seven next year, and off to Primary school in January. They will need uniforms, shoes, books...we make notes. We go outside and take a picture of each kid. I am stooped down shooting; each kid is pulled into my vision, one after the other. They have no idea what’s happening, we are trying to get them smiling, move others out of the background., on and on we go. Peter is standing up recording as fast as he can write: full name and a description of what they are wearing: blue t shirt, with penguins; Flintstone sweat shirt, cowboy jacket. One after the other, 53 kids! We sing more songs; the kids have warmed up, swarming, laughing, singing. The energy is incredible! We start to interview the teacher, the Director about the children, one by one. The history, where did they come from? Who looks after them, what do they do? What happened to their parents? When? We stop for the day and walk back into Mto Wa Mbu...I can’t tell you how happy I am!
The next day I jump out of bed, race over to the carpenter and order a big table and 8 benches – to be ready next Friday.

I race into Arusha for a meeting with Sinai and their international auditor. Stories of corruption everywhere; you have to be careful, how to set things up from the get go, for accountability. We are all learning.

I jump onto the bus, back to Mto Wa Mbu..Peter from Uganda is waiting for me in the office in a little room with the Huruma director, teacher and three village leaders. We sit there in a circle, batting a nasty swarm of mosquitoes way into the night, until a description and story for each of the 53 children is written. It is brutal! But great when we’re finished.

ICA nurse Elizabeth collects the blood from 30 children in four hours the next morning to test for HIV AIDS...result: only one positive case out of the whole group.

This is great news, considering their backgrounds.

The National Health officers can’t register this orphanage officially – the Director’s house is derelict; but there is no money.
We decide to relocate, We find a much larger house - brand new and almost built - on the same road with lots of space, enough for 30 children to move in permanently...with a huge playing field right next door belonging to the Catholic Church. They agree to let us use it. We will not buy until we are confident all is up and running smoothly.

RE Sponsorship. Decided not to find individual donors right now. None are in primary school - 10 will begin next January.
By then we will know how the operation is doing. By December we’ll finance uniforms, books, school fees for those kids, but not until then.
I’m drawing up budgets for food, staff (teachers, director (yes! He asked for a small salary, music to my ears, cook, manager, medical, maintenance.

It is incredible how these things are coming together.....this time, it feels right....

COMING HOME...........30 hours in the air, on the road, in the airport...tough, but filled with vim, vigor, raring to go! What a difference in only a few days....
I am excited to get back! It is not like last year. Back then, mid February, 26 below and sinking..Johnny and the babies had invaded lovingly my house, theirs was under renovations, so we all lived together for three months..i couldn't write, i couldn't think, and i didn't know what to write or think, where i was going, what i was supposed to be doing with all these things i had seen and felt in Africa. I cancelled my Art Retreat for that summer. I floundered. But sooner, or later, someone asked me about my experience...and from then on, I couldn't stop talking...Great people set me up, in Creemore, Rowlie Fleming...the churches...community centres..Probus groups..Rotary...it was incredible....finally...being able to tell my story, people actually listening...interested. and raising money, for what: goats for the HIV AIDS group in Handeni..bikes for the Home Care workers in Harare Zimbabwe...the Masai girls education, the Orphanage...all of a sudden it was coming together..

A YEAR LATER...it is different...when i left, i knew i was going back...this time, I have a good sense of what projects to work on, this time, I know more of where I am going, of where I can focus my efforts; it is empowering and exciting...and I can’t wait to see my family and friends.

A WEEK LATER: back in Toronto.
-A contact from the States called, he’d been through Mto Wa Mbu a month ago, visited the orphanage, read my blog, wants to help. He’s proposing financing with his international organization. TBA....
-RE the new building: Charles got an estimate of $10,000. US, to renovate fully: electricity, water, 5 completed rooms, windows, doors, outdoor kitchen, toilets, showers ...
-Owner offers 4 years rent for $10,000 cost to finish.
-Swedish donors promise start-up refurbishing financing, with support.
-Charles agrees to put together a strong Huruma Board; coming to Toronto in August.
-The Creativity Art Retreat is filling up beautifully, we have some spaces left...please check schedule if interested: www.lynnconnellart.com
-Gary has built another bedroom for the River House..going up this weekend...very exciting....

SPEAKING PRESENTATIONS: INTO AFRICA
...a journey of joy, despair and resilience through the Orphanages of Tanzania, Masai tribal peoples, HIV AIDS pandemic...
I’ve got 4 speaking engagements coming up....
Two in Dunedin at the art retreat during my workshop: Saturday nights, 7pm. May 10 and May 31st.
Dufferin Arts Council: Monday May 5th...1:30pm Rosemont Centre, across the street from the Globe.
Brampton/Flowertown Probus: Sept 03. 10am. Jim Archdecin Centre, 292 Conestoga Drive, Brampton.
IF YOU know any other group I could speak to....

And There is a feeling of spring in the air....
Bliss...............

AMSTERDAM INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT..10.10am.Dutch time...11 am Tanzania..and Toronto, 6 hours back..4am...home in 12 hours!...4pm this afternoon, it seems impossible...tired, sleepy, lost in a haze of sitting up most of last night, cramped and dazed...tickets, passports, endless heaving, shuffling along with my life right now, a series of black bags - purse, backpack, the ever present camera case Jim told me never to let out of my sight! all squished in and on top of each other on the airport cart with two incredible paintings Tiko gave me yesterday - wrapped and rolled and tied at each end with surgery tape, oh Africa...

But before the goodbyes, and my little kids, and Charles and Emanuel and Peter, and breakfast with Marva and Norbert, and the story that rocked our week and quite suddenly, in the last four days, a second orphanage - the first, sadly, a tale of corruption, betrayal, lies -

I whisper a big hello to a beautiful new friend Professor Richard Odingo..justlast night, Nairobi - 10pm in the lounge filling with people, just before boarding, deep in thought, I AM LEAVING AFRICA...hurting and remembering my boys: Elia, Justin, Zack, Stefoni, Jackson, the last day at the pool, we stop at the Masai market a little way down from the orphanage, and in a little circle on the side of the road, we say goodbye...they know i am leaving, their little heads are down, i bend over and kiss them, one by one. i tell them NAPENDA, each one NAPENDA with their name, I love you. I pray they will be okay....Wilfed is with them, with me, we shake hands and say goodbye, it is time to go. I am heading into the Masai shop to run away, to hide my tears, to buy a necklace, broken, tears surging, I can't help it, the shop guys are distressed, POLE..sorry...pole, they dont' know what to do....

Dotto comes along on his bike as if by chance...i hop on the back, hold onto him tight and we make our way slowly POLE POLE, back into town. For a moment the wrenching calms.

And now, in another country, Professor Richard, sits down next to me, his dark blue winter coat thrown over his knees, a big smile, "they had snow in Europe these last days, did you know?", shrugging the coat. And as if by magic, here we are, two strangers bound by that smile on the road, in the air...travelling, opening ripe with possibilites, slipping in and out of lives together, moving silently through time, space, night and day in unison, like a symphony if you just let it, so now, when i'm feeling badly, there is this man out of the blue, sitting next to me. He works in the Environmental field, he says and with a bit of probing, Climate Change. Wow, i say, you must not be too pleased with Canada these days, the powers that be following like limpid lemmings down the road along with their boy GWB - Professor Richard is the Vice Chair of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, the same group of international scientists who shared the Nobel prize with Al Gore several years ago. It wasn't until today, reading the Harold Tribune article, front page, Guardian too, the situation much scarier, worse than they thought, that i realized that this was his group they were writing about, and that this man from Nairobi who has given his life to it for over 20 years - world wide, is sitting next to me. He is a little tired - Ethiopia yesterday, Nairobi today, Amsterdam, Budapest tomorrow -back home Friday, conferences, workshops, meetings...he loves Toronto, Montreal,he loves Canada, he could imagine living there..we are into full conversation, India, China, that great article about China's change, economy, manufacturing of stuff,in the Atlantic - cars, trucks, pollution, rampant.. Peru and a water project where they collected dew from hovering clouds circling the top of a mountain, mist and rain, to harness for irrigation..incredible. We move onto the plane, our seats are close, we arrange to sit together, the woman next to me offers him her seat, and once again i thank God for this mystical meeting with this wonderful human being - Does this just happen when we travel? Our seemingly chance encounters, the phone rings, someone shows up, exactly the right person, the right time, the job gets done, the information passed along... uncanny,mystical..i watch with delight, trusting the universe, of letting things happen...that all will be well.....

I hope to keep writing this blog from Canada if i can..there is so much to say, but at home, I remember well from last year, i couldn't do it. Nothing came, no inspiration, nothing. I read over the blog i had written - the strength, emotion, power, experience,memory, gone. It felt as though someone else had written it, someone else had been there. Not me..
But now,
So many things to tell..ecstatic with filming we did Saturday. Charles, me, Peter - a gorgeous student completing high school in Uganda - Manyara Secondary School, an outdoor classroom of about 40 kids...with PETER acting as host, Charles on the camera, i just sit down on the grass and watch...
My goal to get a few interviews with kids, in English about their feelings,what they know about HIV AIDs....it was incredible, over two hours of tape, poignant, stories, of a mama being sick and dying, of the daddy, baba, running away...of the Masai and their sexual practices, of prevention, condoms, viginity, everything..you can't imagine this conversation in Canada..and all on tape, with Charles wearing a ROOTS CANADA shirt, you bet i will be taking it to Michael Budman..watch out!

and that last harrowing four days....the orphanage story, the new orphanage, meeting, interviewing, taking photographs..the house down the road next to the Catholic church, available to rent, to move them in..so much to tell....and i will, promise,when i figure out, how,
big hugs, see you in Canada....wow..just a few hours away....can't wait....