Category Archives: sabbatical

Majorca bound

Posted on by

Here I sit at my gate for my final flight to Spain.  I didn’t think I was going to be able to do it.  Flying across the Atlantic, being in a German airport, it was just a few weeks ago that I did both of those things and cried most of the way. Here I am again. It brought back the waves of emotion I felt after leaving Africa.

A lot of people haven’t been able to understand what my problem has been. And I get it, they look at me as having this fabulous holiday to play. Well let me tell you, as someone who has suffered from and been able to manage PTSD symptoms for most of her life, any traumatic event fires all my emotional neurons. And before my readers poo poo what I am saying, everyone has experienced it.  It is that day of getting emotional and being an ass to everyone before you realize that it was the anniversary date of your partner telling you that she/he wanted a divorce, and when you realized it, you went AH HA…that is why I have been being such an ass. You didn’t even realize the latent emotions that were affecting you or why you couldn’t control them. It is that feeling of remembering exactly where you were and how you felt, even what the weather was like on 9-11-2001.  Or the emotions that are brought on from a smell from childhood, maybe the pumpkin cookies your mom used to make. Or maybe it is fall leaves blowing across a road that triggers it.

If we think that memories of things don’t trigger emotions and that sometimes we don’t realize what is happening, then we are fooling ourselves, because being human means that it is has happened to you at some time.  People who have long term PTSD symptoms feel that feeling magnified and intensified many times over and every traumatic event is a trigger.  We learn to deal, sometimes we deal with things better than others  Having support is key even when we don’t want to tell someone what is wrong (thanks Matt for messaging me all the way from Nepal when I was on the way to the airport.  You are the best.).  And what really sucks is telling people what is wrong and no one understanding how you feel.  They just wondered why I wasn’t all excited for the great adventure.

So I have been struggling. I know I am going to have a wonderful experience in Spain, but I didn’t want to get on that plane. Every fiber of my being was shouting at me to turn around and find a safe place to hide. But here I am. I am looking forward to riding tomorrow and getting all my emotion out in pushing myself physically on a bike tomorrow. I am nervous about riding a bike that isn’t mine, I have only rode steel and this is a carbon fiber bike.  I am not sure what to expect. But regardless…I am going to ride the hell out of that bike.

So that was just an update.  Hopefully by tomorrow or at least by Wednesday, I will have beautiful pictures from Majorca.  Cheers everyone. I am doing it, even though it is very challenging.  I am here, I am flying on planes and I will have some epic bike rides.  One day at a time, one second at a time.

What’s life without the crazy? ~OEH

Posted on by

P1060122I went on a bike ride the other day with a friend.  After being off the bike since July except for a couple of rides, I have lost all my base fitness that I had this spring so I am fat, slow, and can’t climb for anything.  Tomorrow, I am leaving for Spain to ride with a bunch of men who either ride all the time or are professional cyclists. I am going to get my ass handed to me every day for 12 days.  And I paid to do it.  What to hell was I thinking?

After I finish cycling, I am spending the next 3 weeks going somewhere in Spain, but I am not sure where yet.  I am basically just going to figure it out as I go. For the past two days, I have been trying to squish my clothes in a carry-on so I won’t have to check a bag, but my cycling gear takes up too much room.  I have been a basket case of stress over it. I have 4 hours until my friend Marisa comes to pick me up to figure it out because I have to store the stuff that I am not taking with me.  So basically, I am taking the two bags that I have been complaining about all summer and trying to cull it down to half the size of either one of them. And that will be all the gear and the clothes I have for 5 weeks in Spain.  Yeah.  I am pretty sure I have totally lost my mind.  But, as my friend reminded me of recently, what is life without the crazy?

I like crazy.  It makes people interesting.  All of my friends are a touch crazy.  If they weren’t, I wouldn’t hang around them.  They have passion, take risks, fail and try again.  They are open, vulnerable, and courageous. They care about the world around them and the people in it. When having a conversation about being 50 years old and trying to establish an identity apart from wife/mother/teacher, a friend asked me a profound question: Who do you want to be?  My answer is: I want to be like them.

P1060183I want to be the person who rides her bike to work everyday, regardless of weather, because it is good for my mind, body and the environment.  I want to be the badass skier who will ski through trees, down chutes, thigh deep in powder and laugh the whole time I am doing it. I want to be the person that can jump of a cliff with a paragliding wing and fly, sailing up with thermals, looking down in wonder on the world below.  I want to be the person who will climb up a rock face and get stuck at a hard part and, instead of giving up, hang in the harness until I see the route and climb it.  I want to be the person that isn’t afraid to push my body in physical performance. I want to be a woman who looks out a nature and never takes for granted the beauty I see all around me, regardless of where I am. And I want to be able to take a decent photograph someday.

I want to be the person who can sit and listen to another’s pain without trying to fix it, to just be present for people.  I want to have a home where people can come, put their feet up, rest and feel at home and welcomed. It is funny, I cooked for Matt‘s roommates the other day.  I haven’t cooked like that in a while.  They invited their friends over, there was all this beautiful food sitting on the table, bottles of good Spanish wine, and amazing conversation.  Eating and making food is such a social activity.  Having lived by myself for so long now, eating by myself, I just appreciate those moments to feel part of a community, to listen to great conversation and ideas from creative and intelligent people, and to laugh.

So off I go to Spain.  My hope is to push the boundaries of my physical performance cycling. Then to traipse around the country meeting people, hearing their stories, laughing, sharing tapas, and drinking some fine Spanish wine.  And hopefully, in all of that, taking some beautiful photos.

my pictureThere is no great lesson in this post. Aristotle said, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit”. What I am realizing through writing this is, regardless of checked bags or carry-on, all the things I am doing are consistent with the person I want be.  In order to establish an identity, I have to do behaviors that actually are consistent with the talk.  Who do I want to be?  I am her.

“It is easier to live through someone else than to complete yourself. The freedom to lead and plan your own life is frightening if you have never faced it before. It is frightening when a woman finally realizes that there is no answer to the question ‘who am I’ except the voice inside herself.” ― Betty Friedan

Stop being a sissy-pants

Posted on by

“At times the world may seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe that there is much more good in it than bad.  All you have to do is look hard enough, and what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may in fact be the first steps of a journey.”  ~Lemony Snicket

Me & The Luddite

Me & The Luddite

I love having older brothers. I am the youngest of seven siblings. I have 3 brothers and 3 sisters.  My dad remarried when I was an older teen so I also have four lovely step-sisters but I don’t know them as well.  Last week, my brother phoned me after his wife told him about my blog (my brother is a bit of a Luddite who eschews technology).  He called to be supportive and his first attempt at that was to tell me to stop being a sissy-pants.  When I started laughing, he clarified with “or I just wanted to call and make you laugh”.

I liked candles

I liked candles

My family has the best sense of humor ever.  I can’t sit in a room with them and come out with my sides not aching from laughing so hard. And laughter really is the best medicine.  I don’t know where I would be without them because through everything, I know my family is there for me.  Those roots run deep.  We have had our fights. My brothers burned my hair off when I was a little girl by making some concoction in the kitchen while they were babysitting and trying to get me to eat it by putting a candle in it.  That didn’t end so well for me.  My sister and I traded fisticuffs over the use of the bathroom in the morning before school.  But no matter how angry we might get with each other, no matter how long we go without speaking to each other, I know that at any moment if I was in trouble and really needed them, they would be there for me, to pick me up and dust me off when I get knocked down.

Youngest 5

Payback for calling me a sissy-pants.  I could have posted a much much dorkier picture

After talking with my brother awhile, he reminded me that this sabbatical was an adventure and that there was no wrong way to do it. When I told him that one of the things I was really struggling with was having nowhere that was my own, that I was tired of packing and repacking a suitcase, of not having anywhere to just feel like myself, he again told me not to be a sissy-pants. He reminded me that the challenges were what made the best stories and they are also where the deep learning happens.  He reminded me to focus on what I am learning instead of focusing only on what I am frustrated with and to write down those lessons.

I have been learning about the possessions that I truly miss and the ones that were superficial and I know I can live without once this sabbatical is over and I do have a house again.  I have been learning about what is really important in life…people and experiences.  And most importantly, I have been learning how to focus on myself and about what it really means to take care of myself since I don’t have a home to hide out in.  I have to keep myself out in the world which means I can’t afford to slack off, I have do the things that I know keep me centered, it isn’t an option anymore. This is probably the most important lesson I have needed to learn for much of my life, how to take care of myself before taking care of everyone else.  I think at the end of this year that is the biggest gift I will have from this experience.

Life now is really just me and a couple of bags of clothes.  When talking to my brother that fact hit me, not as an esoteric concept but finally in full brutal reality.  Realizing that all the other extraneous stuff of my life has been stripped away, it was one of those moments where I wanted to say “DOH, of course that would be hard”.  Once I had that epiphany, it has been a whole lot easier to accept everything and to just flow with it. It has made it easier to accept of the circumstances in which I am living, which by my own admission was my choice, I don’t want to give anyone the idea that I am blaming anyone else.  This was a choice and I haven’t been so sure it was the right one until now.  I guess I have finally reached the point where I accept that I am on an adventure, not a vacation, and it isn’t supposed to be comfortable.

My favorite quote is by Theodore Roosevelt.  It is the “Man in the Arena” quote:

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Brene Brown, in an interview with Oprah, said there are two things you need to have to go into the arena.  You need someone to be there to pick you up and dust you off when you get your butt kicked, because you will get your butt kicked.  And the second thing is, you need absolute clarity of values.  Because if you go into the arena and you value courage, then you can choose courage or you can choose comfort but you cannot have both.  If you choose courage and you have conviction, even if you fail and get your butt kicked and get pushed to the ground in the arena, you will still know why you are there.

Family vacation

Family vacation

So today, I have both of those things.  I have family and friends who I know will be there to pick me up and dust me off when I get kicked to the ground.  And I have absolute clarity of values.  I value courage over all other virtues.  In six days, I leave to go cycling in Spain where I am sure I will get my butt kicked.  Today I say:  Bring it on.

PS:  I have spent the days since my last blog doing pretty well, getting enough sleep, eating right, exercising, spending time with friends and I am feeling much better.  Not perfect, but better.  Centered and more like my typically exuberant self.  Thanks everyone for all the kind words and support.

You don’t have to tell the whole story, but it is important to tell people how you feel.

Posted on by

I have this crazy belief that in order to solve a problem, I first have to admit that I have a problem.  As long as I am in denial, I can keep ignoring it.  When I can be brutally honest with myself and acknowledge it, then I can start thinking about solutions. But that is just me and the way I deal with things, I am not projecting that as advice to anyone else.  So far in my life, it seems to be working for me.

Since I came back from Africa, I have been experiencing situational depression. I have always been sympathetic to mental health issues, but this has given me even greater respect for those who are suffering from depression.  With my passionate Italian/Irish heritage, I would rather be my batshit-crazy emotional self than to have to deal with this soul-sucking emptiness day after day where I try to joke around and appear normal so no one will realize that I am struggling to cope with the simplest tasks like showering.

I think one of the worst parts of mental illness is the secrecy and stigma.  Talking about it, normalizing it, is one of the healthiest ways to deal with it, get support, and ultimately overcome it.  And at some point in our lives, we all go through it.  It isn’t just something that happens to other people.  Just like we get physically ill from time to time, we also go through low periods mentally.  Our mental health is as important and deserves as much respect as our physical health.

So now, I have named my demon. Just like when a person has the flu, there are things I can do to get healthy. What are my challenges and what can I do to overcome them and be well?

For me, I had to consider when it started.  Sometime, mid to late summer, I got overwhelmed by too many life changes.  Giving up my things, being homeless, living out of suitcases, relying on the goodwill of other people for places to stay and basic life necessities like a shower, travelling, etc.  All of it just started to add up and wear on me.  I am a person who appreciates time alone and it just seemed like I constantly had to be around other people or in their homes and there just wasn’t any place to just be myself.

Fly-swatter wands

Fly-swatter wand

Brooklyn & Charlotte

Brooklyn & Charlotte

Because of that, I wasn’t ready to take on the challenge of Ethiopia, so I left Africa, and came back to Seattle.  On hindsight, it might have been wiser to just go to the east coast and stay with my son and play with my granddaughters.  There is nothing like some time on a backyard swingset or playing pretend as fairies to perk up your mental health, especially when it involves fly-swatter wands.

Instead, I came back to Seattle and all I have really wanted to do is get a place of my own and feel normal again.  But of course, that isn’t what I did.  Sometimes I have to wonder, can I ever take the easy road in life?  Just once?  Instead, I booked a five week trip to Spain.  The plan is to go to Mallorca and cycle for a couple of weeks, then to go traipse around southern Spain from Madrid, Seville, Granada, Cordoba until ending up in Barcelona.  After that, I come back to the U.S. to play fairy with Brooklyn & Charlotte.  Sounds great right?  My problem is, I am not sure I have the capacity to get all the details done to make it happen, I am not sure I can get on the plane, I am not even sure I can get out of bed.

After beating myself up over not being able to snap out of it, I realized I had to admit I had a problem to myself and my friends and then go about solving it. I also had to stop the negative self-talk (thanks Jeff).  So for the first time, yesterday, as I was walking back to where I am staying from the grocery store, I was feeling sad and empty and I just allowed it.  I didn’t try to make it wrong and fix it, I just acknowledge the emptiness, and gave myself permission to feel that way.  And guess what?  I felt better.

So today, my goals are to exercise go for a run, shower, eat healthy, work some on my grant that is due next week, show Jeff the KinectMath software, do some rearranging of the suitcases (AGAIN), finish my Spain reservations, and to not get upset with myself if none of that happens. One day at a time and then nine days from now, we will see if I can get on a plane and go to Europe.

42 in base 12

Posted on by

I started this blog to document sabbatical and the creation of a new identity as a I move into the final chapter of my life.  I am going through the process of detangling myself from the identity which has served my the first 50 years of my life.  It is an identity wrapped up in the service of others: wife, mother of dependent children, and teacher.  It is an identity couched in the victimization of trauma, trauma that is healed and over and a part of the past.  It is time to let that all go. Now it is time to find my place in the world as a strong, confident, independent woman.  Yet as I read through many of the posts of this blog, I realized I spend a lot of time writing about the people I love and not as much time writing about myself.

pottyIn case you didn’t catch the math from the title of this post, today is my 50th birthday. I have been sad in anticipation of this day, but as usual, the anticipation is the hard part.  Now that the day is here, I find I can’t help but be happy.  The 50’s are going to be the best decade yet.

Milestone birthdays always make you reflect on the previous decade.  My 40’s have been tumultuous to say the least. Up until 43, my life was pretty normal and relatively boring.  After 43, it has been one crisis after another. Yet here I sit on the cusp of 50, feeling like I have been through the fires of hell and realizing that the pain I have gone through has produced a well of strength and independence that I will draw on for the next decade.  I am a better woman because of everything that has happened to me. I am ready to be the woman I have become.  I am ready to embrace a life of abundance.  I have abundant resources, energy, health, and love of the most amazing people on the planet.  There is nothing holding me back other than myself. It is time for me to get out of my own way.

Who am I?  I am an academic, a college professor, a teacher of teachers. I am intelligent and articulate. I am an adventurer, a wanderer, a philosopher. I am compassionate, loving, and warm.  I am blunt, outspoken, and opinionated.  I am passionate, loyal, and I love deeply. I have an inner beauty that is apparent to anyone who takes the time to know me.  I use all my senses and emotions and I look at the world with a sense wonder and magic.  I am a woman who is trying to respect her boundaries, to honor herself and her needs while at the same time caring for the needs of others.  I love the mountains and nature and I believe in taking care of the planet I ride on.  I love to ski, climb, ride, jump off stuff, and to raise my face up to the sky giving thanks for the world around me every day.  I am a woman with a sense of life. That is who I am.

robinSo my birthday plans are to be on my bike by 8 am.  I want to ride 50 miles, but I will be thankful for as many as I get in.  I have been off the bike for quite awhile and I won’t beat myself up if I don’t make 50, I am happy just to be riding along. It is going to rain and I forgot my fender at Matt’s so I will have a brown mud streak up my back, but that is what they make washing machines for.  After my ride, a nice hot shower, lunch, and then doing some work this afternoon followed by a quiet dinner with Tony, Ken, and Marisa.  It is going to be a lovely day.

Cheers to the next decade.  ~Robin

The Gift

Posted on by

On Monday, I will be 50 years old. It is one of those milestone birthdays that, until yesterday, was bothering me a bit. Yesterday, I got it all sorted out in my mind. Everyone keeps asking me lots of questions like where am I staying, what am I going to do now, what I want for a present for my birthday, and what I want to do on my birthday. I hope this post will answer those questions.

Sometimes, life is pretty incredible. When I got home from Whistler, I sent a message to my friend Matt‘s girlfriend Amanda about needing my car. I didn’t know what I was going to do, I just knew that the car is all I have left. I was going to get in it and just start driving. That isn’t what I wanted to do, I just didn’t know anything else to do. Since Matt was in South America indefinitely, I didn’t expect to see him. Then Amanda said the most amazing thing. She said, “I am picking Matt up a the airport at 10 pm tonight, I know he has been thinking about you and wants to see you”. I lost it and just started crying. I hadn’t realized until that moment that what I needed more than anything else in the world was the support of my friend. It just happened that I was back at the same time that he came home for a week before he leaves again for Asia.

sunrise

Sunrise from the deck

Here is the amazing part. He picked me up when I got off my bus and we went and talked. He should have been spending time with his family, but instead he is letting me cry all over him. He had already checked with his roommates and they offered me a place to stay in this gorgeous house, with a fabulous gourmet kitchen and a great view of Seattle. They offered me comfort, compassion, and safety. They are certainly some of the most chill people I have met in Seattle. They made me feel immediately welcomed and at home. How did I get so fortunate? I have to be the most blessed person on the planet. Seriously.  I spent Wednesday reconnecting with my friends Maurea, Melinda, Deloa and Larry. They took time out of their schedules to make me feel valued and loved.

Yesterday, Matt and I went hiking up Tiger Mountain. He was going to paraglide down, I just hiked down. After a lovely hike up with time to talk to my friend, on the way down I got some solo time to think about everything. I decided to take sabbatical in very small steps. I want to finish a paper and a grant I am working on so I need two weeks in one place to work. So I am staying in Seattle until October 1 (thanks Jeff and Elle for letting me crash at your house). Then I just need a short adventure. So I am going back to the original plan and taking off for a month in Spain, cycling Mallorca getting back in time for Thanksgiving with my children. I am not planning on any other activities, just getting up every day and cycling and then enjoying the Spanish culture in the evenings. I need some time on my bike. After that, I don’t know yet and I am not going to plan anything.

On the way home from the mountain, Matt (who is still just 25 years old) was being his usual silly self. I was laughing, the sun was shining, we were just being goofy, I felt like I was kid. At that moment it hit me what a true healing gift his friendship has been to me. I have had a lot of trauma in my life. From the time I was 10 years old, I didn’t have a normal childhood. I grew up very fast and took on lots of responsibility. There was never any of that carefree playtime. Steadfastly, over the last 6 years of our friendship, through the trauma of divorce, the exploitation of my former therapist, the betrayal of a false friend, through a mountain of debt, tenure & promotion, deaths, births, marriages…all of it, Matt has loved me unconditionally. I am 25 years his senior, a female, not that athletic, and still he has dragged me on more adventures, taken the time to get to know and understand me on a level that no one else ever did. He doesn’t judge or belittle, but just truly accepts me as I am and encourages me to be my best. He teaches me how to be spontaneous, to take risks, and to just play knowing that I have the security of his love and caring as a safety net. For the first time in my whole life since I was 10 years old, yesterday, I felt healed and whole. So for my birthday, I have already received my gift.

sunset1

Sunset overlooking the Olympic Mountains and Queen Anne

I don’t need physical gifts, I don’t even have a house. The gift I get from all the people in my life is the gift of their love and acceptance. What more do I need? I have so many amazing friends that I am rich beyond measure and that can never be measured in physical things. Life is short and sweet. I am entering the sunset of my life, the last 30 years. I believe our lives and the legacy we leave behind will be known by the love we have shared during our time on this planet.

I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. ~Maya Angelou

P.S. This seems like a good post for a Stevie Nicks song.  

For today…

Posted on by

image

Back in Seattle and dealing with the complex emotions of feeling like a failure but knowing with absolute certainty that I made the right choice in leaving Ethiopia in order to take care of myself.  Sometimes putting yourself and your own needs first is the hardest thing you will ever have to do.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about my next step. I debated cycling across America but I think I want to go somewhere that I can stay for a couple of months, in one place, that will allow me to have time to myself and a place of my own to write and catch up on my reading. Somewhere that I can rent a temporary apartment and just hang out.

In my heart, I just want to stay here. I want to go find an apartment and have a home. But I know that would be the worst thing for me. It would be akin to wrapping a chain around my neck and keeping me stuck. I have an opportunity to strip away all the layers of comfort and security that I hide behind, to let go of all the friends and support that I cherish, to stand alone. To not accomplish that would be a real failure.

When I contemplated sabbatical last year, my friend Len asked me to picture myself at the end of it. He said to think of what I would regret not doing. My reaction then and still today is two things. Professionally I want to work on my research on KinectMath and write. Personally, I want to cycle, learn to climb better, and take paragliding lessons (thanks for another addiction Matt) and I would love to ski and cycle in Europe.

In my life, I have always wanted to be a badass with adventure sports. I am not however, a natural athlete. I am uncoordinated and I am an old woman. I will be 50 years old on Monday. If I am going to do this, I have to do it now. So let the badass lessons begin.

I bandied about three places in the world that would also be conducive to having time to work, cycling daily, and learning at least one of my other activities. Moab, UT; Mallorca, Spain; and Queenstown, New Zealand. Moab is easy and I am fascinated with the desert, NZ is a little harder because although the language is English, it is further away and isolated. Mallorca is cheaper, was on my original plan, but the language is Spanish. And it is a climbing and cycling mecca.

Any additional suggestions or advice would be welcome. That’s where I am today.

O Canada!

Posted on by

I have been back in the states for 48 hours, staying in my old neighborhood. It is funny, I have been stuck for so long and I had blamed it on my living situation, the debt, my job, my ex, and the exploitative therapist. It took going to the other side of the world to make me realize the “stuckness” was all me and the way I perceive all those things. It is quite a revelation. I came back totally appreciative of the gray, gloomy Seattle sky, clean water, access to services, and the care and compassion of my incredible friends.

So now I am heading to Canada for a couple of days of reflection, contemplation, hiking, and friendship. I need to process all that happened in the last month. The mountains of British Columbia are the perfect setting for doing that and for helping me to decide what to do with the next year of my life. I have the beginnings of a new sabbatical plan in my head (thanks Tony!!). My goal for my weekend is to sketch out a rough idea of the next 12 months.

Pictures and reassessment on Tuesday when I return. For now…O Canada!

Last Post from Africa

Posted on by

Technically, I am still in Africa. I am somewhere over the Sahara desert.  I can see it from the window of my plane.  It is a vast expanse of uninhabitable land.  From the air, it looks as barren as my soul feels.  By the time I post this however, I will be either in Europe or the United States.

On my last day in Africa, all the difficulties that I had there in the past couple of weeks seemed to converge and I went through the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.  One of the horses had died in the middle of road, it was New Year’s Eve, my internet didn’t work and I was missing my family dreadfully so I went to the internet café, ready to talk to my family and friends, ready to leave Ethiopia.  There was a lot of revelry on the street because of the New Year’s holiday. There were men in traditional African dress with sticks, jumping and singing and dancing…the soul of Africa.  It was wonderful and at that moment, I thought my doubts and misconceptions were unfounded.  I thought that the celebration was enough to sustain me through the pain of the dead horse and the lack of access to my family, but it wasn’t.

On the way home as I walking by myself down a deserted section of sidewalk between the café and my apartment, I heard a sound from behind me that didn’t register and at the same time a man swerved near me.  At first I thought the man was just drunk, imbibing too much on the holiday, but he wasn’t.  He was completely naked even to the point of being minus any shoes. I thought it might be someone playing a joke on The Ferengi woman.  After he went past me, I realized that it wasn’t just that he was naked but also his hands were tied behind his back at his forearms.  It looked extremely painful.  My heart leapt to my throat as I tried to figure out what to do. I kept thinking it was a joke or maybe even an attempt to get me to stop to rob me.  I couldn’t quite get my head around why his arms were tied behind his back. He kept swerving near me.  I heard the sound again as someone yelled and it finally registered to me what the sound I kept hearing was…the sound of a whip. That was why the man kept swerving toward me, not to poke fun at me but because, near me, the naked man was safe. No one was going to whip someone with a ferengi nearby who would possibly get whipped too.  I didn’t know what to do. I was a white woman, unfamiliar with the customs, not speaking the language, and not understanding if this was something that was cultural that I shouldn’t interfere in or if it was staged to catch me off guard or maybe if a crime was taking place. I didn’t know.  All I knew was that if I stopped and turned, I would be faced with a man with a whip.

Because I was so upset by it, I did what seemed right to me in that moment and crossed to the other side of the road. The naked man ran that way too and stayed with me, loping along as well he could with his hands tied behind his back.  The man with the whip started yelling louder.  His yelling combined with my obvious upset caught the attention of three men standing on the corner where I needed to turn to go to my apartment. One of them started yelling.  When he did, the naked man, who had never uttered a sound, went back toward the middle of the road where the median was. He did seem to be limping on his bare feet and couldn’t go very fast with his arms pinned behind his back. He was a young man, probably early twenties.  He seemed to be scared but that might be my own fears projected onto him. His silence was deafening and it condemned me.

My shame in the whole experience was that I did nothing … and it makes me sick.  I don’t speak the language so I could not tell what they were yelling to him, I was the only female around and the only ferengi  (foreigner).  I was scared. So I did nothing…I just crossed the road to where other people were.  A man was being driven down the street naked by a man with a whip and I DID NOTHING.  And the truth is, in my life with all its hardship, I have never been so close to total insanity where I just wanted to start yelling at the top of my lungs to get them to STOP.  It was a surreal moment of madness. At that moment, I was broken.  

I am sad to say I wasn’t strong enough to do the job that Ethiopia needed me to do.  I lied awake most of the night and have cried most of the way to Europe. I had wanted to make a difference in the lives of Ethiopian children with my understanding of math education and technology.  I wanted to learn and grow as a human being from the wonderful people I met like Dawit and Baruk.  I had hoped I could give back to all the people who have given so much to me and helped me on the journey of my life.  I wanted to pay it forward.  Instead, I am on a plane back to the US.  I failed. I will have the images of that dead horse, of the beggars with unspeakable deformities that medical science could easily treat if they had access, and of a naked man with bound arms being driven down the road with a whip…I will have those images with me for the rest of my life. They are seared on my soul.  And all the while…I could do nothing.

I was hoping that Africa would heal the wounds in my soul. Instead, Africa opened the wounds of my youth, my marriage, and the subsequent exploitation of my marriage therapist.  Now those wounds feel open and raw, like festering, weeping sores.  Africa ripped the bandage off them and exposed the infected remnants my soul.  So I am going home, to heal, to try to find peace, and to figure out what to do with the last third of my life.

I will leave the work in Ethiopia to those who are stronger.  I leave it to Jen, Ellen, Panos, Dawit, and all the other teachers who keep the idea going.  I am sorry I wasn’t stronger or ready for the experience I was thrust into.  I just wasn’t strong enough or the woman you needed me to be.  It wasn’t the right time of my life.  I am sorry for failing you.

A country with a soul

Posted on by

Today was one of those perfect Northern African days.  It has been the rainy season here so it has rained every day. Not just Seattle drizzle rain, but a true soaking deluge kind of rain.  Every…single…day.  It makes the poorly built and incomplete roads into quagmires of mud, potholes, and huge puddles.  The rainy season is coming to an end and the weather should begin to be perfect like it was today, mid 70 F and sunny with no humidity.IMG_1529

IMG_1527I was going to post earlier, but each time got my post finished, the power went out so I gave up and went for a walk in the village near my apartment with my friend Jen.  What I love most about this place are the Ethiopian people.  They show amazing resiliency, courage, and an absolute undefeatable spirit.  This spirit is what helped them rout every attempt by Europeans to colonize them.  They are a proud people and they love their country.

IMG_1583Every morning, I go running.  Ethiopian runners are a source of national pride.   The route I run takes me on a road where many people run each morning.  Today I actually saw a group exercising in the median of the road.  While I am running, the Ethiopians will cheer me on. They call out “good job”, like I am doing something great, when all I am doing is jogging for exercise.  There is one part of my run that takes me parallel to a government housing project.  Each day a little boy, maybe 10 years old, comes out and jogs with me down the road, grinning from ear to ear. He is adorable.  He says good morning to me and then says “sport”.  When he leaves me he said Ciao and I know I will see him tomorrow.  You can tell he is proud of Ethiopia’s tradition of running.

IMG_1555Even on our walk to the village, the people smile and say hello or salam.  The kids gather and walk with us, wanting us to take their picture.  Women invite us for coffee. What I have realized from spending time with Ethiopians of all ages is that it is their culture to care about human beings. They take their time, they listen to you. They FEEL, they truly feel compassion with their hearts, and it isn’t just superficial bull.  Ethiopia is a country with a soul.

PS.  Between writing and posting, Ethiopia just won a soccer match against Central African Republic and for the first time, qualified for the World Cup.  It is partying and chaos on the street.  What a wonderful celebration of national pride.

These aren’t filtered yet, I haven’t had time to go through them, but they are the ones I took today http://sdrv.ms/19u2kms