Dear Oprah,
     So I have to admit that I'm a little discouraged for two reasons: 1)Vallary is not a resident of South Africa, which the admissions page of your school's website says an applicant must be... and 2)I think it might be wise to spend the next 10 days reposting the blog in order to try to get your attention rather than spend the bulk of my time writing.
     Thoughts on 1): I'm hoping that you might override the need for Vallary to currently reside in South Africa.  I mean, you are Oprah. You might see fit to override such a "rule", mightn you? Wouldn't it be amazing to spread out beyond the borders of South Africa and extend your reach all the way to Kenya? It seems to me that it could be the seed that grows a fruitful tree for the people of M'Bita to have a gardener like Vallary come back home after her schooling in South Africa and be able to spread such educational knowledge to her homeland. I think this could be the foundation of an everlasting bridge between the two countries.
     Thoughts on 2): I am feeling anxious about reaching you. I would hate to waste time "filling" the blog for the next 10 days when I could be using that time to spread the word about what is already written.
     So that's what I'm going to do.
     Hope to hear from you soon. Be thinking about that South Africa rule.  With all due respect, it would be your loss...and Vallary's....and I've got a feeling maybe a lot of other people of the region too. Please consider...and please get in touch. :)

Dear Oprah,
     That was the BEST Super Bowl half time show EVER!!!! Madonna could have chosen any idea to sell in lights at the end and her choice was: "world peace"...soooooooooooooooooooo inspiring!! Loved, loved, loved her performance...just like she loves, loves, loves Africa.  I think it's cool that she adopted a child from a continent that has so many children to rescue.  I do.  I admire it and have actually spent a little bit of time contemplating the possibilities of doing so. I have decided that, for those who do, it is an amazing feat. I also believe that an even more bodacious move is to try to rescue not just one...but many....simultaneously....thru education. So cool of you, Oprah.  Truly.  Or in Madonna's case, attempting to capture the attention of millions of tonight's viewers in order to possibly ignite the compassion of just some of them, in order to go on to save a few.  Either way is compelling and worth great praise. So, tonight I just wanted to say, rock on with your bad self, Oprah.  And cheers to Madge ;) You both make the women and men of not just America, but also of THE WHOLE WORLD proud to be here...and ultimately more aware of the freedom we all respect, love, and admire - whether we have it to the same degree as our nation neighbors or not - it is still what we all really want to attain and the only way we're ever going to get there is if we continue the trend that ladies like you have started: caring for aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll the children whether they are "ours" or not.  They all belong to us and we all belong to each other. So, whether Vallary gets into your school or not, I still salute you for the wonderful job you are doing to bring this world together :)  Rock on.

Dear Oprah,
     I just finished watching the movie "In Time" with Justin Timberlake, the setting of which is a world where time is money and so in order to eat, people must trade time off of their lives in order to fulfill their needs. While watching, I couldn't help but think about the latest letter I received from Vallary just today.  She told me, apologetically, that she has fallen in rank to the 7th place amongst her classmates of over 200 students. Her father, she said, had spent two hours talking with her and she now sees what she has to do to recover the lost ground.  She thanked me, as she always does, for supporting her with schooling tuition and promised me that the money would not be wasted when she graduates in 3 years as she plans to make great use of her education. 
     Time...such a valuable resource to us all, but maybe even more so to those who don't even have the option to waste it in ways that seem viable to the rest of us.  I mean, what could her father have been lecturing her about for 2 hours? She hasn't been watching too much tv to be kept from her studies...she hasn't been playing video games...she didn't get distracted by too many play dates or an out of control sports fetish...so, I can't help but wonder how time plays a role in her vision for regaining her rank.  Perhaps she will study more. Whatever it is, I know she will do it.  She has such determination.

     Time was something I thought about a great deal during my weeks in Africa.  I watched people, daily, like the woman in the picture above, who spent great portions of each day going to find and collect water. WATER. The stuff we pay for in plastic bottles (yes, I'm guilty but much less so than before my time in Africa.... but admittedly I even have a "favorite" brand) and conversely are given freely with ice in a glass at every restaurant meal. Waiters and waitresses even scowl sometimes when we fail to order an additional, more costly drink that will add to the tab.  And yet all over the world, people are devote large portions of every single day doing what the woman in the red dress has set out to do...find a trickle of their part of the 1% of fresh water on the planet.
     In a country where so much precious time is spent on tasks that we take totally for granted in the states, I am that much more amazed that a child like Vallary can find the hours and the motivation to focus on loftier goals of making a difference in a place that is crying out for help.
     I know your TIME is super precious too, Oprah.  I would imagine with monetary demands being a non-issue (with all due respect for having, like Vallary, worked yourself to the place where you are) it must then also be time that has become your own most valuable resource.  Time you must fill on your network air...time you must ration to agree to appear at worthy events...time you WANT to allocate to your loved ones and pets...time you must feel obligated to fill with decisions that will continue to propel the advancement of people everywhere. Dividing and conquering appears to be the only way to make it all happen.  So to must be part of the answer for Africa.  Please, put Vallary into a position where she can also be part of your team of young females who are going to go out and move forward in the world, using their time to better ALL time, from this moment into all future moments. The clock is ticking. Please answer soon.

Dear Oprah,

     This picture reminded me of the story of the orange.  What you see here is lunch time for the nursery students of CGA.  All of the students and the teachers would walk to a nearby empty house for lunch.  The school paid a local woman to make lunch for all of the nursery students and staff so we would leave the nursery building (pictured below) and walk over to the building you see this student sitting against with his lunch. A long line would form and we would wind slowly through the empty rooms until we came to the huge pot of food, the size of 2 coffee tables stacked on top of one another.  The meals had names that I can't recall and were largely unrecognizable. We (the Americans) did our best to eat anything that was placed in front of us as we didn't want to be disrespectful by throwing away uneaten portions that were so highly coveted by all. The meals seemed to repeat themselves every few days and so they became familiar by sight. When something was being served that I didn't particularly love, I would go thru the line, find a child who looked like they could use an extra portion of food and then give them my plate.  I traveled everywhere with my trusty backpack that held necessities like toilet paper and uneaten oranges I would stow away after breakfast.
     One day at lunch, eyeing the day's menu, I pulled my "share the plate" move and pulled out my trusty orange for lunch.  I carefully peeled it in its entirety and took a juicy bite. Just as I was bringing it up to my mouth for a second go, I dropped it onto the ground.  It was the same ground you see in the picture above.  For most Americans, including me, the natural response would be to immediately throw the orange away.  But as I bent down to pick it up, I felt many, many little eyes looking at me...or rather, at the orange. I had been a part of the culture just long enough to realize how ungrateful I would appear tossing the orange away. Wasteful Americans, they say. Not to mention that I was hungry! For just a split second, I thought I understood the world I was in just a little better. Hunger combined with present circumstances were leading me to make choices I would never even encounter in my "real life". And yet, how much more "real" does it really get than appreciating every morsel and being thankful for the parts of the orange that didn't touch the ground? So I ate it.  The part that I thought was safe.
     I've never looked at an orange the same way.  Guess I never will.

    

Dear Oprah,
    While looking through my journal the other night to read what I had written about Violet during my time in Africa, I came across the following entry I had jotted down to take note of that day's experiences.  I thought I'd just share my thoughts from June 27th, 2007 as a little insight into life as a child in M'Bita:

     "...there was a man who took another man's wife in the village last week.  This man apparently lived right next to the school. The first husband was associated with the local mob and he had the other man hung in a tree right in the man's own front yard.  This was last Friday. The American teachers who are at the main school (everyone but me and Suzanne who walk about a mile from the campus each day to get to the "nursery" building down the road) heard all of the wailing on Friday.  The "mortuary" (that is the closest American concept word I can think of...the version here seems to be much less 'polished' than what we would really consider to be the practices of our kind of mortuary) was coming to get the body.  Then yesterday, during the chapel services that Mary was trying to lead, they brought the body back and there was much more wailing.
     These children see so much.
     When I went and got Vallary out of class to visit with her today, she was telling me about running from a hippo once.  I asked her how she got away and she said, "if a hippo is ever chasing you...you must run up the hill.  You see, because, a hippopotamus has very short, fat legs and he cannot bend his legs like we do and so he cannot chase you up the hill!"
     What different concerns and skill sets these children aquire!
     I just helped a child (George) whose scab came off one of his knees.  Blood was running down his leg.  The teachers pulled out a first aide kit but only after I asked. I think they ration them pretty tightly, which I can understand since I do the same in my own classroom where I am the one paying for them. And at least I have the luxury of popping by CVS on the way home from work whereas I have no idea how they come by theirs?  I wonder. This is the 3rd child I have seen bleeding and the other two were injuries that led to a decent amount of blood loss. I waited for someone to bandage the wounds but nothing happened so I pulled out my own band aides.  I didn't want to seem like a wussy American or step on any toes but in a place where such rampant aides is prevalent, I just couldn't help it.

     Johnson & Johnson, Mbita needs you.

This is George.  How could you resist giving him a band aide?? :)

Dear Oprah,
     V....aluable to her people's future and
     A....pt to
     L....lead them to a better tomorrow.
     L....eadership
     A....abilities
     R....arely seen in one so young.
     Y....ou are her hope!
Are you listening?

Dear Oprah,
     While looking through my pictures last night, searching for the one I wanted to post, I came across this picture:

Violet...who followed me to the bathroom (it was an out house) every day...

     This is Violet.  I noticed her the first day I worked in the "nursery" because she was visibly so much older and larger than all of the other children there.  Even if she hadn't been, I wouldn't have been able to miss her because she stared at me constantly.  After a few days, I noticed that when I left the building to go out to the outhouse, I would always pass her on my way back in. Then I started to realize that she was following me. Each day, she got a little bit closer until the day she was right on my heels and I thought she might just come into the small "stall" with me (it was just a hole in the ground surrounded by 4 thin walls). I tried to talk with her but she did not respond with anything but the smile you see above.  I felt a heaviness from her and was intrigued by her seemingly, though unspoken, thankfulness for the simple attention I gave her: mainly just eye contact and smiles...and I tried to remember to say her name everytime I said hello to her because she became brighter for a moment every time I did so.
     One morning, she didn't come to school.  I missed her. That night when we met as a group of teachers back at the place where we were staying (as we did each night for sharing and prayers to try to process the thoughts and activities from our individual days in order to support one another going into the next) I mentioned that Violet's absence had stood out to me and was bothering me a great deal. Anne Marie, who was doing the home visits each day, said she would put Violet's house on the top of the list. She knew which child I was talking about as there had apparently been discussion about the fact that her mother's legs were completely curled under and she barely got out of bed each day.  When she did, she hobbled around on PEGS...not crutches...pegs. Violet went home everyday and fed her, did the wash, straightened the "house" etc. I realized then that Violet's mother was the woman whom I had heard a story about the first night we arrived.  Judy, the head of the school, was very pleased because some of the other single mothers had gone to Violet's house to help her mother. They found dead chickens and extreme filth everywhere but pulled together to clean it up for her. Her mother made a recovery...but still, Violet was her sole caretaker. I thanked Anne Marie for making Violet a priority and hoped I would see her the next day.
     I didn't. She was out again. When I asked Diana, lead teacher of the nursery, where she thought Violet might be, she looked very worried and said, "I heard wailing on the other side" and then walked away.  I didn't really know what that meant until a few nights later when I experienced it for myself.  I woke in the early hours to a low humming noise that progressed in its pitch until its cacophony broke into its individual components of individual cries....and I then knew it to be the sound of many people crying at once. It was the wailing I had heard of.  When someone in a village died, the neighbors would morn out loud together. This is what Diana had heard the morning I asked her where Violet might be.  I realized that the teachers of the school were even more concerned than I was when the morning's prayer centered around Violet's safety.  I felt sick to my stomach.
     About 2 long hours later, Violet came walking into the school building and it was truly one of the happiest feelings I have ever felt. She promptly followed me to the bathroom (though I didn't really have to go...I just wanted to do something for her and didn't know what else I could do except that). I took this picture that day. I was so thankful that she was there. I showed it to her in the view finder. It was such a small gesture and I actually felt a bit guilty in some way for capturing her sadness on film. But as she looked at it, I realized that she was seeing herself for the very first time ever. And she was smiling :)
    Oprah, there are a bazillion Violets in Africa.  And I want to help each of them.  But I don't know how to save so many. What I do know, is that there is only one Vallary. And she has the capability of helping/leading/supporting/teaching/guiding/mentoring all of the Violets in a way that I never could, being a whole continent away and lacking in the inherent understanding of the African way of life. And most importantly, this is what Vallary WANTS to do with her life. She wants to be a leader.  She wants to help her country.  And I want to help you help her by telling you her story and hooking up her need with your gift of education, hope, and a future. Are you listening out there? Sure do hope so.

The "bathroom".