reflective exercise: bubbles!

Bubbles in different settings this year: new bubbles, burst bubbles, fun bubbles, joyful bubbles at a wedding, bubbles for kids in Liberia, physical bubbles, metaphorical bubbles. Bubble-making requires 100% focus. The right amount of controlled exhaling and no rushing! Is that why we make them at weddings? Taking a deep breath to celebrate beauty?

I watched a 3-year-old try and fail, because all he was doing was blow loudly with all his might. Instead of bubbles, he got drops of soap flying all over the place. When I showed him how to do it, his face lit up at the sight of bubbles in the air.

Long ago a description of bubbles appeared on this blog (soccer and soap, 2006):

Perfectly round, because they take up the most convenient shape (ever seen a soap bubble turn out triangular or star-shaped?), thin and fragile, but floating, because they are that light.We watched two of them interfere with each other and bounce off harmoniously, without breaking. “People should be like soap bubbles,” GJ concluded. “When they meet they don’t need to hurt each other.”

That's how I tried to go to Liberia. To meet people and bump into their lives for a moment, just to bring some color and joy. As I mentioned earlier, to simply ask them how they are doing.

I have been back now for two weeks and have had many thoughts and feelings about this place in Rivercess. I spent some time doing volunteer work at the Liberian Inland Mission Clinic (LIMC) as a midwife; giving out medicine, attending to wounds, sorting through some administrative work, screening patients, giving basic health education and antenatal care. By doing that for a short while, the local nurse and midwife are freed up for some other activities. Otherwise they are basically on call 24/7.

It's a tiny contribution to a place of great need, but one incident keeps reminding me of the effects of visiting and showing a little care to people who aren't used to being seen very much.
On my previous trip to Liberia in 2014, I held a tiny dying baby who was brought to the clinic days too late. I saw the mother's grief as I broke her final bubble of hope.
We talked a few times after that and prayed for the healing of her body and heart. She brought a friend with a sick child to the clinic. She wasn't angry with me for not being able to save her baby.

This time, I didn't see her, but I asked her brother how she's doing. I was so happy to hear she now has a healthy little boy. It took a moment for her brother to understand that I was asking about her. Finally, his face broke into a smile as he said: "You remember my sister?"

His reaction shocked me a bit. I have seen many patients come and go, but some have to leave footprints in your heart. Her baby died in my arms; I saw her rip her clothes and cry terribly as she realized it was too late for help. How could I not remember her?!

I guess death is too much a part of life in some places. Encounters like this one, remind me of that. Rereading the discussion underneath my old post on bubbles, I stumbled upon this comment by my friend Luke:

We're meant to be able to do damage. In fact, I'd argue that the more you care about a person, the more you enable that person to hurt you. It's called love, eh? The *ouch* in relationships are where a lot of depth comes from. Needing to ask forgiveness, going through restoration, understanding a person's internal workings and why they hurt and how you can care better for them.

Liberia hasn't bounced off on me like a soap bubble, I guess. The more you really meet and see people, especially those who are hurting, the more you end up a little heart-broken yourself.
And I think that's a worthwhile experience.

Fairlingo's wordplay

Have you heard? Fairlingo is in beta! They are shrinking the world with out-of-the box, creative, innovative, developments. Since I know some of my readers are better travelers than myself and have multiple language skills, let's do some advertising for once. Fairlingo is owned by Vertaalbureau Perfect, a Dutch translation agency that encourages language lovers to have a go at translating for money. If you're anything like me and playing with words makes you smile, why not check out fairlingo.com?!

Technology can make us more stressed and creates new opportunities for criminals and terrorists, but hey, it definitely allows us to dream bigger dreams. New concepts like Fairlingo could even allow you to make a living in Terlingua, a mining district in Texas, where the only community life is in a ghost town. This is where Jim Keaveny and Anna Oakley have their social life. They built their home in the middle of the dessert, using every means to be self-sustaining. The off-the-grid life: no water, electricity or other so called 'modern-day necessities', except...the World Wide Web!

Anna works as a webpage designer, so the internet is one luxury she does need. No problem, because everyone in Texas has the right to have access to a phone line. However remote their home may be, they can still be up-to-date with what's happening in the world,

Fairlingo and Terlingua; they could be a match! Dream on that for a bit...

Source: reisgraag.nl
Off-the-grid life in Terlingua with Flora Dessing*

I love my physical job and the team of people I work with, but I like the idea of being able to go anywhere in the world and work from 'the middle of nowhere'. So yes, Fairlingo makes me dream a little bit. For now, I'm doing it all wrong. When I go off-the-grid, I don't even bring a computer. I don't even bring a smartphone, to be completely honest with you. I suppose my life is in beta, but let there be room for development.

So far my assignments for Fairlingo as a translator (Dutch to English) have been a lot of fun. Language is culture and translation is not just knowing what one word means in another language. No, you want to think of how a native speaker of the other language would actually say it. How will the message come across? My younger brother taught me: "How did I learn to speak German? Well, I just try to be a German."

(Beware: the next moment he can be an orange-loving Dutch guy, who gets offended if you mistake him for a German!)

So translation is getting into culture (forever interesting!) and playing with words (fun!). The cool thing with Fairlingo is that it works so fast, using the internet. I'll pick up an assignment and they tell me I have 24 hours to get the translation done. As soon as I've finished translating, a revisor picks up the assignment and in no time the whole project is finished. I get valuable feedback, which gives me the opportunity to improve my language skills and the customer gets quality for money. 

The only down-side is the vast number of competing translators, who are so much more 'on-the-grid' than I am. But then again, I'm in beta..! :-)



*For the Dutch readers, here's where I got the other half of my inspiration: Floortje Naar Het Einde Van De Wereld

back to Liberia

"Is he blind?" said one lady, viewing a photo of my first trip to Rivercess, Liberia. There were several photos of blind people in the booklet, so why was she pointing at the eyes of a friend who had his full eyesight? 

Blindness is out of hand in West Africa for several reasons. For instance, people suffering from cataract in Europe undergo fast and simple surgery, but this is unavailable to most people who have the same problem in Africa. Then there's all the bugs causing Filarial diseases, like River Blindness. A short cure with anti-worm tablets before the eyes are damaged can completely prevent this type of blindness. Three small tablets are needed, but being nowhere near those tablets, people go blind. And now there is the Ebola aftermath, with about a quarter of the survivor's suffering with eye problems, some of which have gone completely blind as well.

Taking care of resources: even the gloves are washed and re-used.

Often a lack of resources is the cause of blindness, which again diminishes the sufferers resources as being blind doesn't help in finding and keeping a job. Add to that the stigma of disease, which may well lead to becoming a social outcast, so suffering is multiplied and the sufferer overlooked many times over.

Back to the portrait at the beginning of this blogpost. Glancing over at the eyes in the picture, I noticed what this lady saw. A couple of serious-looking eyes, and there seemed to be a film over them. Eyes that have not gone blind, but that have seen too much. Running from war, watching helplessly as friends and family suffer all sorts of brokenness, seeing disease that should've been treated and fighting a helplessness that creeps into so many homes and hearts.

People from wealthier countries sometimes seem to think that suffering is a way of life in developing countries, as if it belongs there. People are used to it and they are still happy and smiley about it and they know how to dance well, so they'll be fine.

They are not fine. Africa has many courageous survivors, but it is not OK for us to be blind to their pain. There is no satisfying end to this post and I have no simple solutions. I guess I will go back and ask: "How are you?"
A shaky starting position, but we'll see from there.

scooch over?

Many voices these days are saying: "There's so much going on in the world today, so many disasters, wars, crisis, persecution!"
My natural tendency is to try to put things in perspective and say that the world has always known crisis - it wasn't that pleasant in the Middle Ages or in Roman times, when Christians were thrown to the lions and there were public crucifixions.

As from today, I'd like to stop doing that, because it's time everyone noticed that the world is burning! Just as it's high time to scooch over to make room for those who are suffering.

A short word-study on the slang "to scooch"

I learnt from a blogster called Janine Huldie that "scooch" may be short for the Italian word "Scocciatore" which means "a pain in the neck". It seems Europe has regarded the stream of refugees as "Scocciatore" and tried to ignore the problems. Can we keep that up with all the media bringing us news of crisis every day? Or will we shift focus to the other meaning of the word? Will you make room in the seat next to yours to welcome a refugee?

Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, 

for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. (Heb. 13:2, NIV)

Watching gladiators

In Roman times the rich would go to the theater to watch gladiators kill each other. Horrible and sadistic entertainment! But the passive masses watching the suffering on the news are perhaps larger today. Will we let what we see really move us? The photo of a 3-year-old's body on a Turkish beach brings a shock-wave to social media. It reminded me of my little nephew and as I read comments on social media I'm guessing most of you know a tiny boy like that personally. And so the gladiators we watch from a great distance, become real humans we know and love from up close.

Can you hold that emotion long enough to get about doing something and to start giving? And if you don't know where to start yet, can you at least be gentle to every stranger you come across?

Snow White and the importance of ebony

Conversation in TV series Falco between the two leading inspectors:

Falco quotes from Little Red Riding Hood: “ ...did your mother never read those fairy tales to you?”
Chevalier shakes his head: “No, too violent...with the wolf and all.”
- “What about Snow White?”
- “Oh no, too much discrimination.”
*Falco frowns, looks at him questioningly.*
- “Yeah, what with all the little people?”
- “Gee, I don’t know what to say....”

As a child, I did get to hear those stories and I vaguely remember looking over at that big story book and finding it a little creepy to have all those mean witches on my bookshelf.  The words fascinated me though. One day I was given a black doll and my parents asked me what her name would be. My response was immediate: “Snow White.”

For some time the grown-ups in the house looked at each other puzzled, as I continued to play house with this new family member. Finally, someone dared to ask for the logic that was going on inside my little head. To me (the kid) it seemed self-explanatory, but of course I would oblige to clarify: “Her hair is black as ebony.”

Generations of childhood nostalgia from my family

Intermezzo for the rare few who have forgotten the classic Grimm tale of Snow White:

A young woman wished for a child with “lips red as the rose, hair black as ebony, skin white as snow”.  She was granted her wish. Her perfectly beautiful baby was born the next year, but of course life isn’t always perfect and after the sun comes the rain (and sometimes a tornado-storm). The good and happy mother tragically died after naming her. To make their misery complete, Snow White’s dad decided to remarry, but this time he married a wicked woman.

So the girl had to run away to the seven dwarfs in the forest, where she had the time of her life before her step-mother tried to kill her with an apple. Luckily a prince came along and he was so smitten with her that he carried her off while she was in a coma. On that journey he tripped, miraculously dislodging the piece of apple stuck in Snow White’s throat. This woke her up and she lived happily ever after her first kiss with the prince. 

Being the girl I was (am) with a strong liking of new words that nobody uses, the important detail I got out of this entire story was “black as ebony”. Obviously, with my doll having lots of black hair on her head I didn’t have to think twice to name her!

Skin color doesn’t matter to a small child. No one is born a racist. Nelson Mandela said it well:

No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.

The skin color that does perhaps matter, is that of the dolls you let your kids play with. I found out that several generations in my family have played with black dolls during their formative years. There seems to be a “black is beautiful” attitude amongst us to this very day. Might there be a connection?

luxurious poverty

When asked to say something about the poverty talked of in Berlin, an Indian resident of Berlin said:
"In India we are happy with 5 hours of electricity. In Berlin there is electricity all the time so people feel nothing about it. Talk about poverty."

We feel "nothing" about the luxury we have. In some cases, we don't even dare to think about how dangerous our luxury is. How is luxury increasing loneliness in the West?

In Liberia, I saw someone watch a video about Holland with fascination. The fascination was his, embarrassment was my share in the experience. He said: "I would like to live there except for one thing; people don't see each other. How can someone be dead in his home for days without anyone noticing? This seems very lonely."

And now robotics have become so advanced that we can let robots visit our elderly instead of meeting up with them personally.

2doc: Ik ben Alice

This week Dutch public television broadcast showed the documentary Ik ben Alice ("I am Alice"), questioning whether a robot named Alice could build a relationship with an old lady and help her feel less lonely. Alice proves that she can help in some ways, but she also underlines the pathetic state of our society. 

Can we hear the alarm-bells ringing as we watch and encourage such technological developments?

the wedding busters

Extreme poverty, natural disasters and lack of education are causing an epidemic of child marriage in Bangladesh. Nearly a third of girls is married before they reach the age of 15, even though the legal age to be married is 18. It seems insane to marry off an 11-year-old, but what to do if you don't know how to feed your family and one flood after another hits your home? Parents see this as an escape, not realizing that this is only a short-term solution. Without education a precious generation is lost. A vicious circle of destructive traditions being passed on into a grim future.

This Human Rights Watch video puts a spotlight on this disaster, but after 8,5 minutes enter into the scene the pleasant surprise of "the wedding busters". This is a group of kids, soms as young as 12, who go around their community educating people. Taking responsibility for creating awareness, they have taken the future of their generation into their own hands. They explain that child marriage is illegal, that young girls are in great risk giving birth before their bodies are fully developed and that education is essential for future development.

These kids are creating child marriage-free zones! Parents who plan to marry off their daughter, actually stop to think twice and say: "You're right, she should go to school!"
The young wedding busters are so convincing, they have stopped half of all proposed child marriages in some of the regions where they are active.

Testimony from Plan International:

Manufa is one of many girls who have benefited. She was about to get married at 16 until the Wedding Busters spoke to her father.
"I wasn't aware that marriage under 18 is illegal and I didn't think her education was important," says Manufa's father. "I learned all this from the children."
Now with the wedding cancelled, Manufa is thriving at school and excited about her future. "When I finish school I want to be a nurse," she says.

This is one of those good news items, where credit must be given to young people changing their world and to the older ones who are humble enough to listen to them. May it be an inspiration to those of us somewhere in between.

Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young,

but set an example for the believers in speech,

in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity.

1 Timothy 4:12, NIV

today i will...

the better world: today i will...

Comment heard in a real-time, real-life conversation recently: "No, I don't watch the news anymore, it makes me nervous."

Today I will introduce you to the new link on my blogroll. A link for all those who feel nervous reading the newspaper and an encouraging link for those who dare to watch the news. "The Better World" is Renske's inspirational blog about baby-steps taken to improve the world around her, because "we make or break this world by our choices".

I love this! I sometimes feel the need of pointing out horrifying, hidden disasters or world issues on this blog. There are so many suffering people who really don't have much of a voice and this is a place where I choose to stand with them. Still, my favorite thing is looking for the tiniest starting point for each of us to be making this world a more beautiful place. 

Renske makes that very practical with her "today I will..." items. Making a difference starts today. Everyday.

Youri Lentjes - Signal (Home I'll Never Be)

The song is by Youri Lentjes, inspired by John Stanmeyer's winning World Press Photo of the Year 2013. It shows African migrants on the shore of Djibouti city at night, raising their phones in an attempt to capture an inexpensive signal from neighbouring Somalia to phone home.

Youri came up with this about a year ago, but today it is more relevant than ever to show the humanity of the travelers. Their hearts forever torn between their left behind loved ones and their hopes for a new future.

where is the light?

Some say Khaddafi kept a lid on immigration to Europe, almost with regret for losing his dictatorship as an influence on the world. I met some Sudanese refugees who had made it to Malta in the days of Khaddafi. Rumours of how it was done in Libya in those days were as follows. When the numbers of immigrants increased above a certain level, the colonel would order to put them on buses and drive into the Sahara. Many miles away from the next bus-stop or water-point, they were told to get out: “Now you walk home.”

It was perhaps more convenient  to have them buried in the desert, than having them drown in the Mediterranean where we can see them from main-land Europe. Allowing smugglers free play was part of Khaddafi's revenge on Europe at he end of his reign.

About 0.7% of the GNP of my country is spent on development aid and many voices say that this is too much, because we have our own crisis. We’d rather invest in our own development than send millions overseas to help others. However, learning to respect basic human rights is also about our own development. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights is not only about personal rights, but also about our collective duty to stand up for those who have difficulty in taking ownership of their rights. 

Article 3 points out the right to life, liberty and personal security. That means once you have life, liberty and security, you cannot look away from those who have none of that. Article 14 talks about the right to asylum if you aren’t safe in your own country. That means everyone has a right to run away from war zones, to a safe place with food, hygiene and education for the children. That is a lot more than simply stopping shaggy boats from crossing the Mediterranean.

Article 24 of the Human Rights Declaration states a right to rest and leisure. In other words, a right to play. The declaration was created by the UN in 1948, not long after the Second World War. Since then play has taken a whole new meaning and we spend billions developing and enjoying play. Is it strange that so-called economical immigrants wish to have a taste of this wealth, because where they come from work literally serves to bring bread to the table and nothing else. Don’t we have a responsibility to also let others play?

I believe the light is where we learn to share and play together, as children do. We need to grow down.

Easter is coming

Painting by Wael Mories, @WMories

Silently they walk, following their Savior,
each man with his own guard and slayer.
But not the One pierced by our transgressions,
who bears our sin and shame, our sickness, pain.
It seems too much for just one man:
"Why don't you save yourself and run?"

Still He knows: later death will be defeated.
His crown of thorns will be of gold.
He is their hope and their salvation.
His death brings life to their dry bones.
He is their dignity now in this time of trouble.
Their faith unshaken, their hearts still.

This sea will wash away their blood,
and we'll stand horrified and shocked.
The Father cries and opens wide the gates
of their eternal home and refuge-place.
And singing of the angels fills the sky:
defeat is turned to victory once more.

Liberia 2014

Today I'm celebrating little Anna's first birthday. I honestly don't know if she made it through her first year. Liberia was not the best place in the world to start your life last year as you all know. Besides the usual poverty in her region, there was Ebola. Still, I insist on making this a joyful day dedicated to her.

Little Anna: she could fit into my suitcase several times! 

She was born after a pregnancy of about 34 weeks, weighing around 1700 grams, too small to drink from her mother's breast. After some hesitation (how on earth were we going to help her?!) we started teaching her mother to pump breast-milk manually and feed her, first with a spoon, then with a syringe. Pumping manually in this case means literally pumping with your bare hands, because there was no manual pump anywhere near the clinic!

It worked! The first few nights were broken nights, not just for the mother, but after a few days Anna could drink like any newborn. In the beginning we had to teach her mom to look at a clock and wake her up every other hour. We told her not to wait until the baby started crying (a common habit in Liberia), or she would never cry again. She was simply too small to bother!

In the same week, another tiny baby was brought into the clinic, little Hannah. She had barely had any milk for the first 6 days of her life and now she came looking very weak and sick. Her 16-year-old mother hadn't known what to do. The child didn't drink her milk. Hannah died on her second day at the clinic while I was holding her and while her mother was still looking at me to help save her child. There was nothing to be done.

These girls for me have faces and names, unlike so many other children who struggle to make it through their first years in Africa.
Per 1000 live births 71 children die in Liberia before their 5th birthday (compare to 7 in the U.S. and 4 in the Netherlands). These are numbers given bij UNICEF for 2013, before the Ebola-crisis.

So today I celebrate Anna, not just hoping that she's made it to her first birthday, but also remembering the many nameless children who aren't celebrated. And may those of us who have birthdays every year, help protect them by making our World more safe and fair.

Birthday gifts: baby-clothes to tag along on the next trip to Liberia :)

lift up your pen for the Nigerian girls!

5% of northern Nigerian girls make it to school. 273 of the girls who did make it to school, were kidnapped by Boko Haram. About 40 of them were found and the rest is still missing. It's been 282 days and we have begun to forget.

Europe has been impressed by terrorist attacks closer to home. Western countries are involved in the battle against IS and trying to keep their young Muslim men from joining jihad in Syria. In cities like Paris and Amsterdam thousands have marched, holding op pens and pencils in protest, after the attack on Charlie Hebdo.

We will speak out for our rights and say, write and draw what we think. We insist that no one will take our pen from us. And in the midst of angry sounds, demanding that we will not be silenced, I wonder what happened to the voice of these girls in Nigeria.

How many of them are still alive? How many of them are living their lives in captivity? How many are slaves to Boko Haram? How many are brain-washed? How many of them will ever hold a pen to write down their thoughts on these matters?

How many parents cry every day and still march to try to bring this to the World's attention and to try to get their government to act. All the while living in fear that Boko Haram will attack more villages. Perhaps parents who were reluctant to send a daughter to school and who, in retrospective, regret their decision. But also, parents who were proud to give their girl a chance to go to school and who dreamed that she would change her world as a teacher, a lawyer or a doctor.


See also: http://bringbackourgirls.us/

Girl’s education has “proven to be one of the most cost-effective strategies to promote development and economicgrowth. Studies have shown that educated mothers tend to have healthier, better nourished babies, and that their own children are more likely to attend school; thus helping break the vicious cycle of poverty.”

- Unicef

“There are 600 million adolescent girls in the developing world. They are an undeniable force for social and economic impact. But only if given the opportunity. Around the world, girls are denied a formal education because of social, economic, legal and political factors. And in being denied an education, society loses one of its greatest and most powerful resources. Education empowers girls to raise their voices, to unlock their potential, and to demand change.”

-Malala Fund