A Home Visit

Thursday was a day I have been anticipating eagerly. It was the day that I went to visit Emmanuel George's home. Emmanuel is a boy that LJCDS students have sponsored for several years, and I, acting on behalf of the students, was able to bring our greetings to him and to his family. I purchased, for about fifteen dollars, a "homepack" that was put together by St. Jude's and I brought that with me to give to the family. (In the sack, I discovered when I gave the items to Emmanuel's mother, was a thermos, shoe polish, vaseline, two packs of chocolate-flavored biscuits/cookies, sugar, beans and tea.) I also delivered to Emmanuel a LJCDS bag, which had a Country Day T-shirt, a Country Day scarf, a LJCDS library pencil and some shoe polish.

Usually the students from fourth grade (known here as "standard 4") walk to the boarding houses when school ends, which is at 3:30, except for club days when everyone stays until 5. The buses take off with the "prep" (Kindergarten), first, second and third graders and the boarders walk up the hill to the boarding houses. But today, Emmanuel met me at the office on the Moshono campus, where he is a student, and together with Mr. Alfred, Emmanuel's English teacher, we boarded the school bus along with the students. We bumped along narrow dirt roads and lanes, winding through villages and suburbs. Mr. Charles, the bus driver, let us off, and we walked across a field. I snapped a photo of Emmanuel holding his Country Day gear and with Mt. Meru in the background. We had to walk through a small heard of cattle and another one of bleating goats. I had to be quite brave, because I don't know what cattle will do, having no experience of them other than in "The Story of Ferdinand," and he is, as you recall, a gentle bull. Then we had to ford a small, flowing stream. Mr. Alfred held my hand and helped in across as we jumped from rock to rock. We walked a bit until we came to Emmanuel's home, and were quickly welcomed with the Kiswahili greeting "Karibu sana," which means "Welcome!" Since St. Jude's takes only the poorest of children, and one of the criteria is, apparently, that the home cannot have a cement floor, I expected the home to be humble. And it was. It was mud and straw, with a tin roof. There may have been just two rooms. I was offered a seat, and served plain cookies from a package and given a choice of soft drinks. And the family gathered round, all having a snack and drink. I could not help but think that it was a strain to offer me refreshments, but, of course Emmanuel's mother wanted to thank and honor me for helping her son. (One of the most touching parts of the weekly school assembly is when the students offer prayers of thanks. The most common prayers are "I want to pray for my dad," "I want to pray for my mother," and "I want to pray for my sponsor.") We chatted, with Mr. Alfred translating and offering me guidance on good etiquette.

Let me tell you about Emmanuel's family. He has two brothers, Joseph and James. I met only his mother, who is not from Arusha, but from another region of Tanzania. A friend offered them the plot of land where they built a house, but they have no farm land of their own. Mama had fine crocheted decorative mats in the room, and was crocheting a bit as we spoke. The younger brother, Joseph, is in the first grade, while James is older. Emmanuel's favorite subjects at school are, in order, Maths, Science, PE, and Social Studies. His favorite soccer team is Manchester United (and mine is their rival, Chelsea, so we had a good laugh), and he likes basketball, too. Mr. Alfred is his English teacher, and he said that Emmanuel is "inquisitive" and listens well and speaks up in class. His mother is very proud of him, and when I asked her if she missed him during the week (the boarders go home Friday night, coming back to the boarding houses on Sunday afternoon.), she said that she was glad that he was getting an education and she hoped he would get a good job on day. Emmanuel expressed his thanks to the students for the gifts, and especially for the sponsorship.

Let me tell you more about the house. On a wall, pinned up, are many photographs, and I saw Mrs. N was in many of them. Mama and Emmanuel and Mr. Alfred all spoke very highly of her. I am with them on this. I think that there is a sleeping room, but I am not sure. What I did see was a LJCDS bumper sticker on the door. Assorted children gathered around the door, and one was introduced as Emmanuel's nephew. There was a papaya tree in front of the house, and we took a picture under this tree.

It was an honor to talk to Emmanuel's family about LJCDS and to represent our school. We can all be very proud of Emmanuel as he is pleasant and willing to talk about his school life. The family were obviously a loving one. The standards for behavior are high at St. Jude's, as they are for academic achievement, and we can join with his family in congratulating Emmanuel for his many successes. Seeing pictures of all this contacts with Country Day was so exciting. If you have ever wondered if you are making a difference, I can guarantee that you are. Emmanuel brings hope for a better future to his entire family.

A Geography Lesson

Painted on the wall at the Moshono campus is this list of twelve interesting facts.
1. Mt. Kilimanjaro is 5,895 meters high. It is the highest point in Africa.
2. The giraffe is the national animal. It is TWIGA in Swahili.
3. The Nile is the longest river in the world. It starts in Uganda and ends in Egypt.
4. There are over 2,000 languages in Africa.
5. There are seven continents. Tanzania is in Africa.
6. Dodoma is the capital of Tanzania. Dar Es Salaam is the largest city.
7. The United Republic of Tanzania was formed when Tanganyika and Zanzibar joined in 1964.
8. There are 52 countries in Africa.
9. Tanzanite is a precious stone found only in Tanzania in a mine near Arusha.
10. Eight countries border Tanzania. They are Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi, Congo, Zambia, Malawi and Mozambique.
11. Tanganyika became independent in 1961.
12. 40% of Tanzanians are Moslem, 40% are Christian and 20% follow traditional beliefs.

And would you like to know something about the National Flag?
There are four colors in the national flag.
Green stands for natural vegetation.
Yellow stand for natural resources (minerals, game parks)
Black stands for the people.
Blue stands for the waters (rivers, springs and lakes.


Here are the words to the national anthem.
(This is a prayer to God to bless Tanzania and Africa. The people express their hope for respect, unity and peace in Tanzania and in Africa.)

Mungu ibariki Afrika
Wabariki viongozi wake
Heshima umoja na amani
Hizi ni ngao zetu
Afrika na watu wake
Ibariki A Afrika
Ibariki A Afrika
Tubariki watoto wa Afrika

Mungu ibariki Tanzania
Dumisha uhuru na umoja
Waje jwa waume na watoto
Mungu ibariki
Tanzania na watu wake
Ibariki Tanzania
Ibariki Tanzania
Tubariki watoto wa Afrika

And there is a National Motto

“Uhuru na Umoja” which means “Freedom and Unity.”

In 1959, Dr. Mary Leakey found what has been determined to be the oldest skull of a human ever found and she found it not far from where I am right now, in the Olduvai Gorge in Tanzania, not far from Aursha. Did the world’s first humans come from Tanzania? Likely.

Miss Susan

I am enjoying learning the names of the students for all the usual and good reasons. I was introduced at the weekly assembly, and so the 625 students at the Usa River campus had a chance to learn my name. I am called, in the style of all adults, "Miss Susan" by the children. Now I am slowly remembering a few of their names. Here are a few of the names that I have learned. There is a Belinda who has a genuine and feisty smile, just like the Belinda I know at home. There are bunches of Joshuas, Isaacs and Samsons, lots of Hassans and Allys. Two popular boys names are Nickson and Kelvin. One boy is named Livingstone. Among the boys are the names Godhappy, Godbless and Godson. There is also a Goodluck. I have met one boy named Queen, and one girl named Queen. Popular girl names are Magreth and Jesca. Agape is a delightful girl. I am fond of the name Mery and the name Nicemary. Just today, I met Middle. But I have two favorites. Several of the girls at school are named Loveness. Isn't that a great name? And there are several Barakas among the boys. You might recall that it means "blessings." Among the Western volunteers here I have been honored with the name "Susan Obama," but you've got to say it with an Australian accent. I am told that children are often named for what their parents hope they will become. But I was deeply touched and devastated when I learned that orphans sometimes take the name of the orphanage as their last/family names. That is the case of one of two boys who now are proud owners of new, large and fancy backpacks, courtesy of the Booster Club at my school.

A field trip to Food Water Shelter

A group of thirteen St. Judes volunteers and visitors got ourselves together to visit the site of Food Water Shelter, a NGO based in Australia. What an amazing group of dedicated folks and what an amazing vision they are bringing to life! Five young women, all volunteering in East Africa (two, in fact, from St. Jude) had a dream. Check out the website for pictures and details and the facts, but let me tell you here about how inspiring my afternoon was on their site.

http://www.foodwatershelter.org.au/

The volunteers live in a compound a ten minute walk (through fields and groves, past homes) from the site of the village they are building for eight or nine "mamas" - single mothers. These women will live in their own apartments with their children, and take in orphans, growing their families. And they will farm the land, growing their own food, cooking it in a communal kitchen. The entire project is environmentally sensitive, and again I urge you to check out the website. Here are a few examples:

The livestock waste runs down into a tank, and the gas it produces flows down into the kitchen where it is used to cook the food. They anticipate that they will not need to buy supplemental cooking fuels. The remaining waste will be used to fertilize the fields, helping grow the crops.

Chicken power! The kitchen floor is made of slats so that the crumbs fall to the ground, where the chickens peck away. The raised crop plots are a standard size so the chicken tractor will fit on top. A chicken tractor? A wire mesh cage. Put the cage on the plot, put the chickens under it, and let them peck aways at the leftovers from the harvest. As they claw and scrabble away, they turn over the soil! (That reminds me a bit of a story, "Working the Field" in George Shannon's book "Stories to Solve."

An aquifer is being made using recycled truck tires. They are stacked in a pit, and the pit will be covered over with a playground! The water that runs off the roofs during rains will be stored in tanks that are partially buried under the buildings. Rainwater in excess of what the tanks can hold will be funneled to the tire pit. In order to pump the water out of this aquifer, the merry-go-round that the children play on will provide the power to pump up the water. Can you picture it? Most of the water will flow down, and a “fruit forest,” an orchard, is being planted that will be watered this way. But when necessary, the children will go out to play to get the pump working to pull up water.

While we were there, a blustery storm blew up and the clouds swirled around Mt. Meru. While we didn't get any rain, when the clouds blew on, the peak was streaked with snow. By the time we had returned to St. Judes, the snow had mostly melted.

In the short time that I have been here, I have met people who have such energy and such vision. It is certainly inspiring.

Reading Time Soldiers

What at happy surprise to open a box of books donated by Books for Africa, and find "Time Soldiers!

One of the boys, Gerald (who is sitting next to me) saw the book on the shelf among all the hundreds of books that I was unpacking, and asked if he could read it. Many of the students rush into the library after they have had their morning tea and after lunch to look through books and play with puzzles, and Gerald was obviously looking for a good book to read! I took advantage of the opportunity, and suggested we read it together. Soon, Agnes (on my right) and Brian and Silla joined as I read aloud. And the group has grown. These students come each break and gather around. We just finished Rex #2 and will start Patch on Monday. The suspense grows, and they are with every piece of the action. "No, Mikey! Don't!" Please, Miss Susan, turn the page. Hurry!" "Dot, dot, dot..." they practically pant in anticipation. "Look! The battery is almost gone!" They are hooked. And so am I.

First Graders Sing the School Song

The school year here has just begun, and already these new first graders have learned the school song, while the fourth graders are full of confidence. The first grader in the front row, on your far right hand side with the winning smile is Belinda. She and I ride the morning bus together. And about twenty others.

The School of St. Jude is a very good school.

The School of St. Jude is a very good school.

The School of St. Jude I love you so much.

The School of St. Jude I love you so much.

We say thank you God for our beautiful school.

We say thank you God for our beautiful school.

This school looks after our future.

This school looks after our future.

To challenge yourself is the school motto.

To challenge yourself is the school motto.

We say thank you God for this beautiful school.

We say thank you God for this beautiful school.

Glory to my wonderful school.

Glory to my wonderful school.

The School of St. Jude we love you so much.

The School of St. Jude we love you so much.

We say thank you God for our wonderful school...

The West Wing

The West Wing? Well, not exactly.

But just inside the gate to the Moshono campus. which is guarded by men who look conspicuously like Masai with their red sarongs around their shoulders and their menacing sticks, and just alongside the driveway, is the lodging for the Westerners. My room is at the top of the stairs, and my window overlooks the courtyard, which is quiet, except when avocados fall from the largest avocado tree that I have ever seen (and I am from Southern California, so I have seen a few avocado trees) and land with a sharp thunk on the tin roof of the building. My window faces the sunrise, and the morning sounds remind me that I am not at home. I hear the crowing of roosters, the moo of cows, the barking of dogs, and the call to prayer from the neighborhood mosque.

The Western volunteers at St. Jude come mainly from Australia. But there are couples from New Zealand, England, and The Netherlands. There are two Canadians-from Vancouver Island and Toronto-and a German. Until yesterday, I was the only one from the United States, but a woman from Northern California returned from home leave. The volunteers fill the positions of mentor teachers, art teacher, PE teacher, and librarians. The other volunteers work in the office with sponsorship and development, facilities management, budgeting and IT.

I joined the Red Kitchen crew, and now belong to the "kitty." We pool our money, and once a week go into town to shop, stopping at the bustling central market, a butcher shop, the "fruit mamas" and various small stores. I went last week as a trainee, and I am nervously thinking of volunteering to be the shopper this week. One person cooks the dinners on a rotating schedule, and when it was my turn, I made spaghetti. I figured that was safe. Our lunches at school are tasty and filling, consisting of rice, beans, cooked vegetables, ugali, and pilau, with a spicy salsa always available. We fend for ourselves on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. Arusha is about a twenty minute drive from campus, and if one is clever, it is possible to hitch a ride on a school bus. I have successfully called for a taxi, and taken a dala-dala, a small van that travels along a route, stopping when requested. One of the main landmarks of Arusha is the Clock Tower roundabout, and rumor has it that it is halfway between Cairo and Cape Town. I wonder?

Only two volunteer couples live on the newer Usa River campus, including the librarian whom I am working with. So, each morning, I ride the early bus, which picks up students and staff all along the route. The commute is about the same as my drive at home, and even more scenic. At home, the Pacific Ocean glimmers alongside the highway. Here, we drive about half the route on a dirt road, then drive along the main Arusha-Moshi highway, turning off on the tree-lined road that leads to Mt. Meru park. We drive through and alongside the lush fields of banana, coffee and maize, and I look across at the foothills and up to Mt. Meru. We cross bridges spanning deep ravines, where rivers flow down from the mountains. We pass several towns, crowded with dala-dala stops and shops and markets.

The volunteers here work hard, spending long hours at work. The Red Kitchen gang is mostly the same age as I am, and have given up careers and jobs, packed up their belongings, rented out their homes, and come to Africa to do something for others. The younger vols are offering their talents as well. All have been welcoming and generous with advice and concern.

I am fortunate, any way you look at it. Fortunate to be in such a beautiful part of the world, fortunate to have supportive colleagues here and there, and fortunate to be able to give a bit of my time to this effort to educate some of Africa's poorest, brightest children.

President Obama

I found a T-shirt (the pirated edition) in the market, and a kanga, and wore them proudly today! At school, the teachers commented, and congratulated me. "Hongera!" as they offered me the accompanying gesture of touching forearms. The Kiswahili on the kanga continues with "Upendo na Amani Ametujalia Mungu" which means "God offers us Love and Peace."
In the morning, I take the early bus to the Usa River campus, and am the first one up around here in the mornings and the first in the kitchen, getting a cup of hot tea. This morning, I decorated, hanging a kanga (the twin of the one I was wearing) on the wall. It was my turn to be the evening cook in the communal kitchen, and so around the table I offered a toast to President Obama. All heartily raised their glasses. After the meal, several of us wandered out the school gate to the "Water Hole," which has a TV. The generator kicked in when the grid power slipped away, and we missed nothing. In a group of ex-pat Aussies and New Zealanders, with Masai, villagers, local teachers and school employees, we watched. I looked for the Country Day group in the crowd, and imagined the excitement of being there as history was made, and as the rest of world tuned in with joy and approval. Watching from one of those villages that President Obama referred to, I am so proud to be from the nation our new president has inspired, proud to be a citizen of a nation that is taking its place in the world as a friend and equal.

Amani, friends.

The School of St. Jude, Usa River Campus

I took the 9:00 bus from the Moshono Campus

to the Usa River Campus, about a 40 minute drive back along the road from the airport. I was met by Alex, who showed me this most wonderfully situated and well designed campus. With Mt. Meru on the eastern horizon, and Mt. Kilimanjaro above the clouds to the west, a more African setting can hardly be imagined. Starting with the dorms, we walked through the rooms, then followed on down to the two- and three-story classsroom buildings, the dining hall and on to the library/administrative building, which is the focus of the campus. Off to the side is the music room, from which the sounds of drumming stream out to the campus. There is a large soccer field along one side of the campus, and a open-twalled assembly hall along another side. I watched as The school motto, "Ending Poverty Through Education," was painted on the stage wall,. After our tour, I met Diane, a school principal back home in Canda and a Mentor Teacher here in Tanzania, and, lucky for me, my mentor at St. Jude's. She took me up the stairs to the library, and introduced me to the library staff. Margaret, aka Margie, is newly arrived and will be the librarian in charge. She is assisted by Charisma and Faith, the library teachers, and a young man, Forehead, who is, among other things, responsible for walking the classes to and from the library for their library visits. The library is well-designed, large and spacious, well-lit, and empty, except for several mats where the library classes are held. The empty shelves are just waiting for the books, which are now packed up in boxes. Margie will be responsible for getting the books cataloged and processed, and I can help her do this, so the books can get out to the students as quickly as possible. For now, she has put out boxes of books so the students can look through them, finding books to read before school and during recess. They are eager readers, coming to the library at morning tea recess and lunch recess. Between eighty and a hundred students come, and it is such a joy for me to read a bit to them! My favorite so far is a Kenyan picture book called "A Tasty Maandazi." (A maandazi is a doughnut-type snack, and it is what is sometimes served to the staff at tea time in the mornings.)

It is here at the Usa River campus that I will be

spending my time, and so every morning at 6:45 I hop on Emmanuel's red bus, and head eastward. The commute is not much longer than the one I drive at home, where I am spoiled as I drive along the coast. But this drive beats that, with the green fields of the foothills and the majestic Mt. Meru, clear in the mornings. We stop and pick up the younger students along the way, and employees, as we go along. All buses eventually end up at the Moshono campus, and so I have returned in the late afternoon via a variety of routes. On this, my first full week anniversary, I feel fourtunate, settled yet excited to see things through new eyes.

The School of St. Jude, Moshono Campus

My first day was a day of discovery. But I think each day will be.

The driveway was filled with vans, each a different bright color, and each saying The School of St. Jude with the happy lettering style of the school. I found Tara in the office of the Moshono campus, and the introductions began. Then a little walk around the school grounds, and a visit to the library. Then it was lunch time. Everyone eats together, at the same time. The dining area/assembly room/theater is in the middle of the campus, and is roofed, but without walls. The classes sit together, with their teacher, and the remaining teachers and visitors sit at the front few tables. Before eating, the students stand and say a grace. That first day, and each school day since, we have had a rice or bean dish and a vegetable dish, spiced with a tomato salsa that has quite a kick. Each meal has been tasty. No complaints. After lunch, the students have a recess, playing on the swings, the climbing structures and slides, running and playing tag, and doing all those imaginative games children devise. The supervising teacher wears a bright yellow sash, easy to spot. As the students went back to classes, my introductory tour continued with a short bus ride to the boarding campus. The students walk the distance each day, taking a short cut through the fields, small plots planted with banana trees, corn, coffee, and vegetables. I am eager to take that walk, but need a guide, the first time, at least. (Short cuts can lead to long delays...ask Frodo.) The boarding campus is terraced, with a great soccer field on the lower terrace, a dining hall/assembly room on the next level, and the two dorms following on up the hill. The boarding students rise early, make their beds and do their chores and have breakfast, then come to school together. Students of all ages board (except for the very youngest), and return home Friday afternoon through Sunday afternoon. At the end of the school day, 3:30, the boarders return to their buildings, and their afternoons and evenings are tightly scheduled with chores and classes, which are held both before and after dinner. They also have "family time" to discuss things that the house parent and teacher can help them sort out. The boarding campus is planted with grass and flowering bushes, and looks out over the fields across to the foothills of Mt. Meru. It is a picture postcard view. Back on the Moshono campus, I spent the remainder of the afternoon in the library, covering textbooks with sturdy brown paper so they could be issued to the students who are just starting a new school year. A few classes came in for a library time, and the librarian read a story, and then the students looked at books. The collection is great, and any student from home would find their favorites on the shelves. I found "The Story of Ferdinand'" of course! When the last bell of the day buzzes, the students line up for their buses, which zoom off in a cloud of dust. After school, with the campus quiet, I sat in on a Kiswahili lesson, which was way too advanced, but still interesting. Maybe I can find a tutor? And that ended my first day at school.

The fights to Africa

Well, this will be dull. Imagine over twenty hours of flying time, three flights and the necessary two transfers, two checked bags and a carry on, and then imagine that it went without any problems at all. I will admit to being teary when I waved goodbye to my daughter at LAX. She offered good advice and good humor on the early morning drive north, and stood by and helped me repack in the hubbub of the airport check-in counters, using a second suitcase to save the overweight charges. It was her idea to bring an extra bag, just in case. I had good books and aisle seats all along the way. Detroit was snow covered, and de-icing was required. Next snow I see, I thought, would be on the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro! We took off at sunset, and when we landed at Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, the brilliant full moon was still shining. After a stop at a ATM and a cup of tea, it was time to board the KLM flight to Kilimanjaro International Airport (JRO). As I drank the tea, I watched one of the most spectacular sunrises spreading up from the horizon. Sunrises, sunsets. On my last KLM flight to Africa, the flight turned back over Barcelona, and headed back to Amsterdam to repair an "hydraulic" problem. But this time we had no difficulties, landing around 9 pm, unfortunately in the dark. I finished the last page of the book I was reading as we taxied up to right in front of the terminal. I was sitting in one of the back rows, and anticipated that I would be forever in line at the visa window, but my luck held and the back door was opened, and I was third or fourth in line for my visa. After collecting both my bags, taking a deep breath I walked out into the arrivals lounge. And, yes, there was someone standing there with a sign that said "Susan!" The brief walk from the plane to the terminal was noisy with the plane's engines powering down, and stinky with the smell of jet fuel. But, leaving the terminal with Tara and heading to the waiting St. Jude's bus, the dark African sky overhead and the distintive dusky smell in the air assured me that I had arrived!

I am checked in

I am checked in to the first flight of my journey.
Time to finish packing the bags, take care of a myriad of details, and anticipate closing the door behind me as I take the first steps of my sabbatical semester.

Nothing happens unless first a dream. Carl Sandburg
I have discovered that one can dream dreams, but when those dreams are shared, when others believe in the same dreams, they really can come true. Thank you to all of you who dreamed with me, and who let me share in their dreams.

The road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began,
Now far ahead the road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Were many paths and errands meet
And wither then? I cannot say.
J.R.R. Tolkien in The Hobbit
Thank you to Anne and family for a stirring holiday card full of quotes meant to ponder and inspire. Student Morgan emailed me to ask if I thought she should continue reading The Hobbit, which she had just started. "I loved it," I answered. "If you are loving in, read on. If not, save it, because one day you too will love it."

And now let us welcome the new year, full of things that have never been. Rainer Maria Rilke

Jack London Park

While on a visit to Sonoma with my children over the winter break, we visited Jack London's ranch, now a park, Jack London State Historic Park, in Glen Ellen. He lived from 1876-1916, so when I say he left home to join the gold rush, California fourth graders know it could not have been the California gold rush. He went to the Klondike, in Alaska, and from that adventure, he wrote several of his most famous stories, "Call of the Wild" and the short story "To Build a Fire." In 1886, when he was ten years old, he discovered the Oakland Public Library. Over the course of his lifetime, he gathered together his own library of more than 15,000 books (about the size of the collection of the LS library at LJCDS). He called his books "the tools of my trade." His trade was writing, of course.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sailaways/sets/72157612081570034/

Packing for Tanzania

Yesterday I packed a suitcase (bigger than I have ever traveled with) great stuff, all for the students and staff at The School of St. Jude in Arusha, Tanzania. One day last week I went from store to store, list in hand, picking up things that are on the school's wish list. I called my colleagues in our library to see if they could spare some book tape, plastic book covers and self-adhesive labels for the spines of library books. I got some helpful emails in response to my question, "What should I bring?" One frequent visitor and friend of St. Jude's suggested, that if I wanted to be popular (and who doesn't?) I should bring chocolate. And Mrs. N really got busy, making sure all the sponsored kids would get Country Day gear. And the Booster Club added shirts and back packs. A few folks added books to my pile. Will it all fit? Yes. Will the bag be over weight? (I measured it with my trusty tape measure and so I know I am within the size limits.) Keep your fingers crossed.

My suitcase is my usual carry-on. Among the layers of clothes, I have a surprising amount of equipment: iPod, computer, Kindle, cameras, phones, flip video and a recorder. Add to that the necessary chargers, plugs and batteries and I feel like a peddler from an electronics store. I may be going half way around the globe, but I will be connected as if I am just down the road, as long as the electricity and connectivity holds. (Since I am just finishing Thomas Friedman's "Hot, Flat and Crowded," those things are on my mind.)

All the details of leaving are nearly settled, and I hope that the things that, when I am strapped in the airplane seat and I suddenly remember that I did not do them, will be things that aren't that important. Keep your fingers crossed again.

I will miss my gorgeous camellias. They are having the best blooms ever. I will miss reading in my reading chair with my cat curled up on my lap. I will miss Padres spring training. I will miss my family and friends. I will miss LJCDS more than I can say. But, I am eager to get on that plane, fly over the US, over the Atlantic Ocean, across Europe and into Africa. I am eager to learn and to work. Keep your fingers crossed.

The Bear Flag Revolt

Fouth graders said the most wonderful things! I will look at this video often, and be inspired.

The Bear Flag Revolt

What I learned on the first adventure of my sabbatical was something about California history. In Napa, at an historic house, I saw an unusual flag, framed in glass and hanging on a wall. I asked about it, and the story was fascinating. Known as the flag of The Bear Flag Revolt, the flag dated from 1846, and was recently discovered in the attic of a home. This was a lucky find, as several other original flags were kept in a safe in San Francisco, and were destroyed in the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. Since 1896 an replica has been on display at the Presidio de Sonoma. The original flag raised in the Sonoma Plaza, one of the flags that was lost in the earthquake, became the model for several other hand made flags, and it was one of these that I saw on display.

In 1846, while California belonged to Mexico, thirty-three settlers in Sonoma declared an independent republic, and their rebellion took the name of the flag they made that symbolized the new California Republic. Their republic lasted from June 14 until July 9, 1846, less than a month, and then the young republic became part of the USA. But the flag became the basis for the flag we know. Do you see any similarities?

What I will miss

You can bet I will be playing this video alot! I surely will miss my daily routine of being a part of the story life and reading life of these children.

The Lamp Post

Last Thanksgiving, my son said, "Mom, stand right there. I want to take your picture." When he downloaded it, he (being much more efficient than I ever am) tagged the photo "lamppost." When I asked him why, he looked at me like I was momentarily out of my mind, which I certainly must have been. "Mom, it's the lamp post. If you wait long enough, the snow queen will pass by."
Is Narnia ever far from our thoughts? Who, having read "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" by C. S. Lewis does not find the worlds of here and now and Narnia merging every once in a while? And along with that magic, there was, in my mind, the deeper magic of having sat side by side by side with my son and daughter and read the story aloud to them. All three of us felt it.
Lat weekend I read Gregory's Maguire's review of "The Magician's Book " A Skeptic's Adventures in Narnia" by Laura Miller. Titled "Young Love," it appeared in the New York Times Book Review on December 28, 2008. The reviewer quotes from the book. "The author who can make a world for a reader - make him believe that the people, places and events he describes are, if anything, truer than his real immediate surroundings - that author is someone with a mighty power indeed. Who can forget the first time they experienced this sensation? Who can doubt that every literary encounter they have afterward must somehow be colored by it? If we weigh the significance of a book by the effect it has on its readers, then the great children' books suddenly turn up very high on the list."
This year-end reminder is worth recalling as we choose books to share with our children. One of my New Year's Resolutions is to look for the best, and offer the best to our young readers. Let them have experiences so powerful that years later, when Mom and a snowy lamp post are in the same picture, it is Narnia and the experience of reading about it that the child sees.

And a Semester Ends

I knew it would be hard. For nearly a year I have been on this roller coaster of emotions as I anticipated and planned for taking a one semester sabbatical from my position as Lower School Librarian at La Jolla Country Day School. And it was difficult to meet classes that last school week of December. And to talk to parents, who all wished me well, and confirmed that, while they would miss me, they shared my excitement, and were proud, as I am, of our school for recognizing the value of continued education. Fortunately, I had a good story to tell that last week of the semester, and there is nothing like a good story to move the teller and the listeners beyond the present moment and into the world of imagination and truth.
Not too long ago I was honored to attend the Word's Alive luncheon. One of the speakers was Gregory Maguire, whom many know as the author of "Wicked." I have been fortunate to know him as an expert in children's literature and as a leader of Children's Literature New England, a week-long symposium that took place annually for twenty years. I was able to participate in CLNE for the final two of those years, and the memories and inspirations are huge in to me personally and professionally. Greg's greeting to me was heart-warming, as he said it was a happy surprise to meet, in California, a Children's Literature New England participant. During his talk, he quoted Robert Scruton. It is that powerful quote that I share with you now.

"The consolation of imaginary things is not imaginary consolation."

If ever I needed a reminder of the veracity of that one sentence, it was as found consolation in sharing a story that last school week of December. The story? "The Polar Express," of course.