2 posts tagged “peace corps”

Diversity_Hands

My mother was a great reader and firmly believed in the power of the written word. As a result, I grew up reading voraciously. Each time any new crisis or event came into my life, I turned to books to make sense of it all. Whether it was a medical diagnosis, a new career, or friends from a new culture, I read to prepare, to make sense, to learn and to have something to contribute to the conversation.

When I became a mother myself, I read my way through my pregnancy - everything I could get my hands on about gestation, child development, heartburn - you name it. Later, as I nursed my babies, I always had the baby in one arm and a book in the other. As my children grew, they too discovered the joys and necessity of reading to make sense of the world and to have fun.

As a mother, an educator, and a citizen of the world, it hurts my heart to think of all the countless children throughout the world who will not know the joys and power of reading, who will never have free, unfettered, access to books, much less have any of their own. Literacy and education are the tools to rise out of poverty. Clearly, those of us who have so much have a responsibility to do something. That's why I love African Library Project .

The sad fact is that Africa has the highest percentage of illiterarcy in the world. Many teachers is Africa teach reading, writing, math and English without a single book, while here in the States, the poorest among us has access to free public libraries and countless sources of inexpensive used books. In fact, here in the States, many books even end up in landfills.

The African Library Project is made up of donors and volunteers working together. People in the States collect gently used books and send them to Africa. There they are distributed by Peace Corps volunteers, educators, and NGO's  who will distribute the books and set up community libraries. Since the UN has decreed 2003-2012 the United Nations Literacy Decade, the African Library Project is a wonderful way to not only increase literacy but vastly enrich children's lives in Africa. 

My children and I were fortunate enough to be able to send some of our books in a recent shipment and I don't know who was more excited, me, that we were able to help children we'd never likely meet, or my children who were so happy to give their books to children who "don't even have a LIBRARY!". My prayer is that our books in some small way, contribute to the education and happiness of children and that their lives are enriched by ours and other's donations.  

Ever feel stuck? In quicksand? Or amber? La Brea tar pit stuck? That's about where I am at the moment. Couldn't tell you when it happened exactly, I only know that one day I woke up and felt like I couldn't draw one more breath if something didn't change in a big way. No, not my marriage. I still think Honey is quite the best thing since sliced bread (on a good day, with Nutella). No, not the kids. They are all healthy, smart and mostly don't work my nerves too much. I am reasonably healthy, in good shape, have good friends, like my life in general, but just need a change. I just want to wake up and see a different vista, smell different air. And please God, not hear the booming "N" word from my wannabe- a- white- rapper neighbor's stereo. 

For the longest time, if anyone had asked me what my dreams were, I'd have said my only dream was that my children would do wonderful things and have good lives. But that wasn't entirely true. If it were, I wouldn't be so addicted to travelogues and the travel section of the paper. I do dream of traveling and maybe joining the Peace Corps. But those dreams are for when I'm old. Miss Lillian old. Dodging babysitting requests from my kids.

If I am honest, I have to admit that the real long standing dream has always been about buying the farm. No, not figuratively. Literally. Moving to the country, being someplace where you never see a car go by. Having to plan a trip to the grocery store because you are so far out.

Since forever, Honey and I would drive places like Woodstock, NY, or some small town in Vermont and say, "Get the paper. How can we find a way to stay here for the rest of our lives?" Alas, since his job is in downtown NYC, and in the earliest days of our marriage, we had my parents who were not too portable, we never made the move. Later, as the prospect of a transfer to the Albany office presented itself, I backed away from the idea of a move Upstate. The land was affordable and certainly beautiful, but I didn't want to deal with the homeschool regulations and a major move away from everyone we know.

Over the years, the fantasy morphed from just living in the country, to actually doing something there. Like farming. Now, anyone who knows me will tell you that I am incredibly lazy, lethargic, sedentary. Have been since the womb. I also don't like getting dirty. While I love a good hike as much as the next girl, given my druthers, I'd curl up with a good book on the couch nine times out of ten.  But still this crazy dream kept growing and wouldn't die. No matter how many times I told myself real farms get messy, and smelly, and someone has to shovel the manure. It just kept growing and getting more Technicolor as time went on. I could see myself in my Levi's (size 8; I'm always a size smaller in my dream. It must be all the manual labor) and modest tunic, wearing my best, old, well worn cowboy boots, living on a farm, sheering sheep and feeding chickens, maybe harvesting Angora from some lovely bunnies. (In the fantasy, they are always lovely. And they smell nice. It's never muddy and the goats are always Winnie- the- Pooh cute and never stinky and rambunctious.) I  make goat milk soap and tend my bees. I'm a regular Alice Freakin' Waters in the garden too. Never mind that in real life, I planted my tomatoes this year and left them to fend for themselves. 

I've read enough self -help books to know when a dream is this tenacious, you have to pay attention. And tenacious it is. I look at journal entries from 10 years ago, and it's all about "the farm" and being at one with my creature friends. I even joined a "homestead" group on Yahoo. Lots of people living the life, cutting their own wood, dressing their own venison, spaying their own animals, grinding their own wheat to make bread and I don't know what all. The only thing I know from reading it, is that I have a learning curve roughly the size and shape of Mount Everest.

So there is this dream, shared by two people. In Honey's version, he's gets lots of machinery to tame the land; tractors, brush hogs, back hoes, not to mention a whoop a@# workroom. The dream is almost complete. The only thing left out of the equation has been the the "where" we could magically transform the dream to reality. Since I live in one of the most populace states, the prospects didn't seem promising. In my small city of 70,000, they have taken to blowing off the tops of mountains to make "adult communities" and building condos on highway medians. So the dream always seemed that much further from reach.  

Then lo and behold, one of my dearest friends moved to "Boonyville". The back of beyond. Hotzeplotz, Bumfxxx Iowa, Nowhereland. It's farmy, country, wide open space (quick! hurry before the evil develpers get their mitts on it!) And that brought the dream that much closer. We earnestly began our quest for a place to call our own in a land far, far away, but with express service to Wall Street.

I've talked before about the trials and tribulations of real estate shopping with special preps. We do have a list of requirements. And for a long time it seemed that the journey would never end. Maybe it never will. Therein lies the gut wrenching drama of feeling so stuck; like we will never progess beyond Sunday drives to look at what may be "the one". Perhaps it's just a midlife thing. Is that Peggy Lee I hear singing in the background? Maybe we are meant to be stuck here in the suburban wasteland of malls, malls and more malls with some condos thrown in. But I can't believe that. If I could, maybe I could just relax and enjoy all the millions of blessings we have right here and now.

We have prayed about this for what seems like ever. But things happen in God's time not ours. I know God has the best in store for us. I just get impatient to know what the best might be. To date we have seen hundreds of places, bid on at least four and been shot down each time. There has been nothing new coming on the market for the last month or so. At what point do you admit that the obstacles you have been encountering are not just normal tests but actual road blocks? As in God just does not mean for you to keep trying. Give up, get a life, and move on to something more accessible like making macrame plant hangers. Or here's a thought: Go weed the garden you do have! I don't know. For now, I will continue to pray about it, look at the listings, read my poultry catalogue and watch my Joel Saladin video. So far The Secret is not doing it. But we live in hope.