How to drink water from your hands

Are you in need of a satisfying, soothing late night snack!? Look no further! Here is the secret to the tastiest, most refreshing evening drink you've ever tasted:

1. After you are done brushing your teeth and washing your face, take an extra moment to wash your hands so they're nice and clean.

2. Gently cup them together (as if you were holding 4-5 eggs in them) and pay extra attention to that little spot right above where your pinky fingers meet - that is the weak spot, so make sure it is tightly closed.

3. Fill your hands with refreshingly cold water (this might be much more difficult if you live south of the Tropic of Cancer and north of the Tropic of Capricorn). This is easiest and best done when you live close to the mountains, but it can work just about anywhere on the right day.

4. Bring your hands up halfway to your face, and then bring your face to your hands.

5. Rest your chin against the two palms of your hands - don't go vertically into them otherwise you risk getting your face completely soaked. As it is you can expect your nose to get a little wet, but that helps it taste more refreshing.

6. As you drink in the water continue to press your hands together and you'll be amazed and how much water you can fit in your hands.

7. Repeat 2-3 times or until satiated. (Remember not to drink more than three handfuls before bed, or you might just have to wake up at 3 of 4 in the morning!)

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I don't know what it is that is so refreshing and incredible about drinking out of my hands, but I've been addicted to it for a couple of years now. It seems something like almost Ameliesque, but it really is satisfying and somehow tastier than having water in a glass or cup or mug or even a brand-new nalgene bottle.

Give it a try tonight. It will be life-changing.

A Time for Thought

There are moments in life when we just need to stop and think. This week has been one of them for me. Last night I drove up on top of a mountain and thought. And I thought. And I thought. I needed it. It was good. I didn't decide what I needed to decide. No contract was signed. In a way I merely rehashed things I've thought about hundreds of times. But in the thinking there emerged energy- energy that I needed to do what it is I've thought about so many times before. I realized that I've already made many of these decisions, and that I will continue to move forward.

Kenneth Burke, provocative thinker of the 1950s and 60s (see http://www.kbjournal.org/kbs for more information on him) is author of a text I am using in my English class on rhetoric and persuasion. His ideas were catalysts for many of my thoughts. Here are some of them:

"If you internalize... a variety of motives... you get a complex individual of many voices. And though these may be treated, under the heading of Symbolic, as a concerto of principles mutually modifying one another, they may likewise be seen, from the standpoint of Rhetoric, as a parliamentary wrangle in which the individual has put together somewhat as he puts together his fears and hopes, friendships and enmities, health and disease, or those tiny rebirths whereby, in being born to some new condition he may be dying to a past condition, his development being dialectical, a series of terms in perpetual transformation" (A Rhetoric of Motives, 38).

"But a modern "post-Christian" rhetoric must also concern itself with the thought that, under the heading of appeal to audiences, would also be included, any ideas or images privately addressed to the individual self for moralistic or incantatory purposes. For you become your own audience, in some respects a very lax one, in some respects very exacting, when you become involved in psychologically stylistic subterfuges for presenting your own case to yourself in sympathetic terms (and even terms that seem harsh can often be found on close scrutiny to be flattering, as with neurotics who visit suffering upon themselves in the name of high-powered motives which, whatever their discomfiture, feed pride)."

"Only those voices from without are effective which can speak in the language of a voice within."

It wouldn't be feasible to try and explain everything that I've been thinking about, but it is interesting in reading these citations that I was actually thinking about thinking. Suspending myself above myself added additional clarity that I needed.

The overwhelming resolution to the crisis of thought has been a feeling of gratitude. Note that this doesn't stem from a resolution of the crisis itself. Sometimes that shouldn't be expected.

In other news, I've been sick the past couple of days with a mysterious variant of the flu. No fever, just the chills, vomiting and fatigue. Who knows what it was, but it seems its about done. I celebrated this morning by downing eight dollars worth of fruit products at Jamba Juice. Eight dollars on orange juice, a big coldbuster shake and a whopping shot of wheat grass! It was my victory toast to my brain, for doing some good, quality thinking.

Lake Powell

Chapstick is a conspiracy.

I really doubt that I am the first to have noticed this, but I am pretty much completely convinced that chapstick, despite all of its benefits, is a cold, calculated conspiracy.

Think about how many times your lips bother you. Mine don't really bother me all that often. Really the only time they get into trouble is when I spend the whole day in the sun - surfing, wakeboarding, etc. The next day my lips hurt real bad, so I put on lots of chapstick, and all of the sudden, it seems like things are worse. Chapstick must contain some addictive element, like nicotine or crack for your lips. The second you use a little bit, you suddenly have to have the chapstick with you at all times, ready to go in your pocket. Tubes and tubes of chapstick disappear, joining the mismatched socks and ballpoint pens in whatever mysterious corner of the universe to which they frequently flee. You're hooked.

For me it takes a week to get off of chapstick once I'm addicted. It usually happens when I lose all of the chapstick available in the house or apartment, and by that time my lips are just a little bit better. 

If you've read all of this, it means that for some reason you like me, or think my writing is funny or maybe you are really bored. Whatever the case may be, you may be pleased to know that I will now be keeping the blog alive with much more substantive posts than this one. I want to have a place to put my thoughts on life, international development, school and whatever other things I encounter. Previously I have assumed that I only have exceptional experiences or make earth-shattering discoveries while I am abroad, but hopefully this blog will prove the opposite to be true.

Thanks for your friendship and support. 

I'm back!!! Time for some pictures!

Some words in Sena

Here are some new words I've learned this week:

Machessa - These are the community classrooms Care for Life builds in each of the communities they work in. They are made out of wood, bamboo and grass. Instead of supplying materials for their construction, Care for Life asks for one nail, one stick of bamboo and a handful of grass from each family in the community. Care for Life is really different them some of the other Non-Governmental Organizations I have seen in action, and they've left me pretty impressed. In the Machessa many kinds of classes are taught; everything from child and adult literacy, family health and gardening to vocational training and business skills.

Mwacherua - This is how you say hello in the local dialect, Sena. This is a different dialect then the one I was learning in Maputo, so I am back at square one. I have heard this said a lot, and have said it a lot in the communities I have been visiting with Tobias. Tobias is the coordinator for Income Growth Training, and I've spent the week accompanying him, observing the classes that are taught, the consultations with small business owners and interviewing various entrepreneurs and students. Tobias reminds me of Will Smith. He is funny and kind and everybody loves him. He speaks mostly in Sena, especially during his classes. In reality only about 40% of Mozambicans speak Portuguese, although among the younger generation almost all speak it. Since the classes are normally taught to parents and adults many of whom who already have small businesses, the classes are taught in Sena. Sena doesn't have a lot of fancy business words though, so these words are in Portuguese, so it's not completely impossible for me to keep up.

Taverano? - This means "did everyone understand?"... at least that's what I think it means. Tobias says it frequently during his class and everyone responds by nodding their heads. This whole week of observation has been very beneficial because of the things I understood and learned. Care for Life has developed a program called the "Family Preservation Program," that ties in many different components of development and utilizes participatory teaching and work methods like the FAMA methodology I was trained in by Joan Dixon and Lynn Curtis. Luckily enough it was precisely them who also had a hand in the formation of the Family Preservation Program being used here. This means that I was able to understand very well what the teachers and facilitators were trying to do. We spent a lot of time analyzing how their classes function and making observations and plans to improve the classes. Also, I was able to train two more people on how to teach the Community Economics curriculum I developed with Joan, and it looks like they will be incorporating this manual into their curriculum. If any of this sounds interesting, or you are in a condition to assist Care for Life's in their efforts, please visit their website at www.careforlife.org The Mozambican government recently reneged on a promise to continue helping to fund Care for Life, so the need for contributions is extremely important.

Manja - This means "please applaud." Every time someone makes a good comment or does a report in class we give them a round warm of applause. I love how happy everyone is to see each other succeed. The things these communities are working on could seem simple to some, but in reality are critical steps towards building safety, health and prosperity for their families. It takes months to help all of the families understand the necessity of building a permanent latrine and seeing them do it, planting their own vegetable garden or contributing to the community "Bicycle Ambulance". If I had a chance to ask a manja for someone, it would be for the Mozambican staff workers here at Care for Life. There are about a dozen employees that run a program that operates in 8 communities that involves nearly 11,000 people. Tobias especially deserves manja because he has let me be his shadow the whole week. We have driven over 250 km this week on his motorbike. It has been thrilling and beautiful.

I have hardly any pictures of my time here in Beira, and I don't plan on taking any. My experiences this week have been two raw and intimate to be photographed. The chance to walk in as a white man into so many authentic, honest villages and spend only a few moments learning, speaking and understanding really can't be risked or spoiled by pulling out a strange black box that flashed in people's eyes. It would destroy the relationship Tobias and his colleagues have worked so long to forge. I am bringing back from Beira pages and pages of memories in my journal, and volumes of them in my mind. I am bringing back dozens of conversations and the trust of a few new friends.

I have been slowly letting myself detach a little. Monday I will be leaving Beira for Johannesburg to begin my long journey home. I spent about an hour on Wednesday night waiting in a little Indian Restaurant from which I could see the lights of an LDS chapel in the distance and a concrete wall that separated the road from the beach on the other side. I sat just thinking about how much I have been blessed. Not just the blessings of education, parents, plumbing and paved roads, but bigger things like the understanding that Heavenly Father knows and loves each of the people I have met or seen here. There really isn't an adequate way of expressing our gratitude to God. Sometimes we have to squeeze out every bit of gratitude within us to try and show Him how much we are really thankful, and then hope that He knows and understands we realize how much more we would really like to thank Him. He knows though. He always does.

Some pictures

The most spectacular drive in the world.

The most spectacular drive in the world.

Went to bed at one.
Woke up at 3:45.
Carried my duffel bag on my head. The bus was parked in a giant pool of mud,
of course the police had to see our papers right then and there,
in the middle of the mud hole.
I explained the papers and we boarded.
People everywhere.
Shouting.
Selling.
Utter darkness.
We leave on time, unexpectedly. The dawn didn't glimmer till well over an hour into the journey. The colors marched in slowly and then melted into the mist.
The sunrise was invisible. The mist steepened with white and then orange and purple.
The highway severed endless seas of mist with floating trees and distuant huts made boyant.

It thinned and the sun glimmered through, softening enough to stare directly.
Huts of all kinds.
Square with round roofs.
Round with round roofs.
Round with tin roofs.
Mud. Wood. Sticks. Reeds.

Savannah. Jungle. Verdant green. Endless gold.
Still marshes, vast plains, mammoth riverbeds.

Boom, crack.
Black rubber launching through the air.
Red, red earth. Down, digging.
Two cord snaps.
Heat bakes down.
Small cars gawk.
Buses smile thankfully (wasn't us)
Tow rope snaps. Snaps again.
Sweat, knives, the minutes pass.
The hour passes.
ITS OUT! Sighs and cheers!

Imundeiro Boabab Trees
(The ones God planted upside down)
The sunset bounces into oblivion.
Hungry, we ride on.

The Apex of an Adventure

Last night I found myself standing on a street corner in Beira. I was exhausted, but so completely satisfied to be off the bus I couldn't help but smile for at least half an hour as I stood there, waiting. It was a seventeen hour bus ride, and even though the view from the windows was awe-inspiring the entire trek, I felt myself pushing my own limits - emotionally and physically.

We made it though. What a week! Since Swaziland, we spent two days at Skukuza camp in northeastern South Africa, in Kruger National Park. We went on two official Safaris in the big truck and everything, and spent all the other time we were there driving around in our own little Toyota Quantum van.

I hadn't planned on having an incredible safari experience, and to be honest, there have been so many other things to focus on, to stress about, to prepare for and to do that I hadn't given the experience much thought. I hand't anticipated it or dreamed about it, but then all of the sudden I was there, in a little rented van, stuck on the road as a herd of elephants trotted by. Having a lack of expectiations, the safari experience completely surpassed them and surprised me.

It is probably not worth spending too much time talking about it, becuase I hope the pictures will be able to speak for themselves. I might try after this post to put a few of them here on the blog, but we really shouldn't get any hopes up with this internet connection. So I will tell you about a few of them:

There is one of a group of seven lions - a lioness and her six cubs ripping a kudu to shreds. It was the luckiest thing that happened to us. She killed it about fifteen yards from the road, and in the night we could barely fit the beams of our searchlights through the brush to illuminate her and the kill and get some clean shots. Then her brother lion showed up. It seemed like he was skipping because h has a bad paw. It was any amateur photographers dream moment.

I guess I am not talking straight about the luckiness thing, because really the luckiest part was seeing the cheetah. There are less than 200 cheetahs in the whole park (compared to thousands and thousands of elephants, giraffe and lions) and we spoke to many people who've come dozens of times and never seen one.

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So safari was fun, but the driving this week really pushed the limits. We spent 49 hours driving! Our BYU program expereince offically ended on Friday evening when we made it back to Maputo from Nelspruit, South Africa. We spent most of the night cleaning up and repacking in order to come up to Beira. Some of the other students returned home to the US, but Kristin, Dusty, Christina, Kailey and I all came up to Beira. We had to wake up at 3:45 to catch the bus, and when I tried to somehow carry all of my stuff, I had a great mozambican moment. It dawned on me that it would much easier to carry my duffle bag on my head. So I did. It worked great!

As far as the bus ride goes - it was cramped, long, beatiful, and they only stopped four times to let us use the bathroom. Our voyage was interrupted by a two hour flat tire/get completely stuck in the mud on the side of the road in the middle of the jungle moment.

As the sun was setting over yet another savannah, dotted with mighty boabab trees and scattered grass huts I scratched some bumpy letters into my journal. It is kind of raw, but I will share it with you in the next post.

I am now safely at the Care for Life facility in Beira, and had a happy nights sleep and a spectacular shower. We just got back from church - another fantastic african ward, perhaps the most impressive one I've seen. The reverance, the talks, the attitude and the faith are all astounding and admirable.

This week I will be observing the Family Preservation Program that Care for Life is currently executing in eight rural villages, and doing some teacher training if everything works out right! Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. I hope that all are well.

Oh and the last thing, I received a Swazi name from a wonderful woman in ... oh dear I don't remember the name of the city. I do remember the name though, it is Sihle (said see-hu-LEE) and it means; "where he goes, doors open" or "the good one who brings good fortune."

Cheers,

Sihle
This is a picture of One World University in Changalane