Corduroy Magazine

June 15, 2010

Corduroy Magazine is the epitome of classic style and this month, they’ve profiled the Obakki Foundation:

Treana Answers Wendy

June 15, 2010

From Wendy:

I’d like to know if there was anything specific on this trip (it sounded quite hard one on the emotions this time) that really thrilled your heart and made you think “Yes, we really are making a difference”? Oh, and your other volunteers are so beautiful inside and out it took my breath away!! X

Hi Wendy,

Great question. This trip was a lot harder in many ways than those in the past. One thing that really stood out was our trip to the Buea School for the Deaf. Normally, our projects take months (even years) to see a real impact, so having an opportunity to tell Mr. Bibum to his face that he would be receiving the money he needed, and seeing his immediate reaction, was amazing. That kind of instant gratification is rare in the work we do and seeing the children’s reactions also lifted my spirits enormously.

xo

T

Where You Wear It

June 14, 2010

As we compile Treana’s answers to your excellent questions, we have an e-mail and picture to share with you from one of our most loyal supporters, Tina Davis. She recently sent us a picture of her in an Obakki Foundation T-shirt when she was backstage meeting Nickelback (looking good, Tina!), along with this message:

I really want to express how impressed I am with your Foundation. Your blog helps so much to connect people to what you are doing in Cameroon, and let us know where the actual donations go! Once my children get a little older I would really like to volunteer to go to help in Camaroon. I am doing all I can to spread the word and let family and friends know what an incredible organization Obakki is! I would of course love to do more, if there is anything you can think of, let me know. Thank you for your time, and once again thank you for your blog and for sharing all your trials and tribulations, along with your moments of accomplishment.

We’d like to see/read how you are wearing your Obakki Foundation items. E-mail us a picture to foundation@obakki.com or post something in the comments – we’d love to hear from you!

p.s. In addition to Tina’s message, here are a few shots of another great supporter, Kate Hudson’s son, Ryder, wearing his Foundation T-shirt.

Ask Treana

June 11, 2010

Today is Ask Treana Friday – please write your questions in the comments of this post and we’ll start answering them here on the blog next week!

Thanks!

Our Incredible Volunteers – Jeff

June 10, 2010

Today I want to tell you about Jeff: an intellectual, adventurous and very global-minded man – our medic on this trip. What I enjoyed most about Jeff was the way he just fit in. It sounds like a very simple thing, but it takes a special kind of person to do this in a place like Cameroon. He is so open minded, independent and confident and it showed in everything he did. He thrives in an environment where he can just soak it all up and live, and because of that he is able to experience things in a deeper way.

Jeff is a leader, a listener and a participator. He is not the kind of man who will sit back and let the world pass him by. His loyalties run deep and his dedication to helping is encouraging and inspiring to all of us. He is ready to help anytime he is needed, and his contribution to our group cannot be quantified.
xo,
T

Jeff:
I wanted to think about this one for a bit. I mean, there is the obvious aspect of being grateful for the privileges and rights we all take for granted that being blessed enough to be born in Canada provides, and we better understand while being exposed to life in Cameroon.

However; I think there is a fundamental aspect of doing volunteer work that I enjoy even more. What I enjoy the most about this work is the chance of being taken out of my comfortable western linear existence, and challenging myself to live within an existential “now” that I believe we in the west are always searching for, whether consciously or unconsciously. By not only existing, but also thriving, in the adverse situations that we are exposed to in countries like Cameroon (or Afghanistan), we are better able to transcend our own personal and societal norms and dynamics which in turn then allows us to have a more enriched time on this planet, and a better understanding of what it truly means to be human.

Rene Descartes said, “Conquer yourself rather than the world.” I believe that what we are all really doing in a place like Cameroon is just that.

Anyhow, I will now step down from my soapbox, thank you for the opportunity to express myself.

Our Incredible Volunteers – Ziad

June 9, 2010

Today I want to tell you about Ziad: three adjectives to describe Ziad? A….MA…ZING. That’s it – he is amazing. Ziad was our director on the trip, working on a TV show with Mashiah. I was very hesitant bringing a director and camera into Africa. I’ve spent years protecting the people and communities we work within, so when Ziad and I started talking about the possibilities of them filming our trip, I was very apprehensive. After traveling with him, I can honestly say I would do it again – anytime, anyplace.

What I liked most about Ziad was the enormous respect he gave to every person he met. He is intelligent, talented, global, educated and successful director – with NO attitude. He was an unbelievable traveler: never complaining, always willing to participate and his creativity poured over onto all of us. Aside from his main filming objective, he used all of his extra time engaging in games with the kids, or visiting with the volunteers. He never skipped a beat, just became someone you wanted to be around. I was super sad when Ziad (and his team) left, as he brought something special to us all. Ziad, thanks for being so respectful and supportive of our projects and our local partners. You were an amazing addition to our team.
xo,
T

Ziad:

Buea, Cameroon, May 6, 2010, 5am

I am woken up by what I think is some sort of tribal chanting. It is not even 5am and we slept less than 4 hours last night after more than a full day of 27 hours travel from Vancouver to Douala. The distant chanting is nearly louder than the rooster screams and barking dogs. I can almost picture us coming face-to-face with a clan from the bushes celebrating our arrival in full trance… But that’s probably just my early morning imagination…

We arrived at night for our first stop in Cameroon, so I have no clue where we are, except in a city called Buea, far enough from the capital Douala that we had to travel to it for almost 3 hours, braving a thunder storm in a military convoy that was as leaky in the rain as it was speedy in the jungle.

When I come to Africa, there is not much that I know because I try to un-teach myself of all of our old habits to try to be as open as possible, and understanding of a value system and traditions that I may not be familiar with, let alone assimilate or comprehend. When I come to Africa, I cannot hide under my Tilley hat, sunscreen cream, deet spray and Malarone pills. My senses may be up to stay alert in case of emergency, but I prefer to put my guard down and make one with the fellow people of my host country. Here, it is not about me anymore like it often is back home for most of us; here, it is about us. And how each of us can make a difference in each other’s lives, even if we live worlds apart, we have much more in common than each of us might even think.

Our guide Ed refers to our three-members TV crew as “Hollywood”. I tell him that the camera is our tool to help, just like the school teacher brought pens and the doctor brought epipens. We make images and write words to share the stories and raise awareness. But come to think of it, our people are fully aware of Africa and its problems – it’s just more convenient to forget. What they need is not awareness, but more knowledge and more truth. In our western state of general apathy, we are not here to raise awareness, but rather to act and call for action.

A few hours of sleep later, during morning breakfast, I hear the chanting again that woke me up earlier. I run to the window only to see a group of military men jogging. We are near a training base, so it had nothing to do with the tribes that I had imagined! Just when I thought I had left my preconceptions behind…

Lewoh, Cameroon, May 7, 2010, 7:15pm

At the end of the film “Shutter Island” that I just saw in the plane, Leonardo DiCaprio’s character asks the rhetorical question: “Is it better to be a bad man alive or a good man dead?”

Today on the bus ride between Buea and Lewoh, our guide Ed told us the story of a villager friend of his who caught his son stealing. To teach him a lesson, he beat him with his cane, so hard that he got the boy’s face. The villager admitted without any sign of regret that he beat his son blind. Our group was obviously outraged by the story. This man blinded his son as punishment. It is unacceptable, of course.

But let’s reflect on this man’s system of values for a moment and try not to judge, as we were advised. What I understand from such a situation is that the man obviously preferred raising his son to be an honest man, even it meant sacrificing his eyesight as a consequence. Yes, it is easily viewed as barbaric, but I’ve heard similar stories even in our western culture, where we are quick to wish death on each other, and our bullying youths in revolt have been more frequently turning weapons on each other. I believe that much more premeditated crime and horrendous murder stories happen in our countries, it has just become part of the evening news we digest so easily.

We made a pit stop in the mountain village of Dshang. There, strolling around the market, I met and chatted with a 28-year-old law student, Amadou, who dreamt of practicing in France rather than in Cameroon, because of the “meritariat” system they have there. That’s where the best will succeed and get the job, rather than bribing the right contacts for his future in his own country. I wondered how will Africa develop when its own elite is always dreaming of leaving it?

When we got to the town of Lewoh, where we will sleep for the night, I got acquainted with three boys hanging around our kitchen: Matti, 21, a plumbing student; Gilbert, 16, a runner who fell on his jog yesterday and broke his shoulder bone; and Godlove, 20, referred to as “the bone doctor”. Because he is a twin, God gave him and his twin sister the gift to heal fractures. After some time chatting about the benefits of traditional medicine, I ask them if I could attend one healing session, and Godlove agrees to have me drop by his home later that day. Patients flock from nearby villages to visit the bone doctor every morning and evening, so he has to practice his gift in between his studies, sometimes even offering them a place to stay at his house.

Seeing him operate, I notice that he has an acute sense with the bone structure. I can hear cracking under his hands as he manipulates Gilbert’s broken arm to put its pieces back into place. He spits on one injury, then massages another one with herbs steamed in a boiling pot of chicken bones. Apparently, the nearby hospitals refer their severe cases for Godlove to treat with his gift of this ancestral practice. Though I can’t vouch for the validity, I saw the tremendous pain he afflicted during the session on Gilbert’s shoulder, the patient walked out of there smiling a few minutes later.

I wish there was an eyesight doctor to send for the villager who blinded his son.

Bechati, Cameroon, May 9, 2010

Yesterday, we trekked through the jungle for hours on an extremely challenging and narrow path, overlooking cliffs and overcoming the climbing of steep up and down steps made out of rocks. Of course, the villagers, young and old, zipped past us, sometimes carrying heavy loads on their heads, wearing only plastic sandals. I was enjoying the hike and the views, chatting away with my comrades, until the moment where both my knees started to suddenly hurt.

I toughed it out for a couple of hours without saying anything, until people started noticing my limping and slower pace. Every single step was pure pain in the side of my kneecaps, especially the right one, until I felt that they were barely supporting me anymore and I could fall down at any given moment.

The more I pushed myself the more it hurt, so much that sharp pain would sting up my leg right to my lower back. Out of pride, I didn’t want to complain or mention anything because this injury was so unexpected, I was ashamed to be the weakest link in the group.

Me, who had trekked through the Himalayas in Nepal, who ran up the mountains of Petra in Jordan this time last year – I didn’t know what was happening to my body. I had survived extremely challenging situations before, but they were all external factors I had no control over, like growing up during the war in Lebanon, getting bitten by a mosquito in Venezuela that sent me in a coma for three weeks, the burning of my very first apartment…

But this was me. My aging and aching body. With no one and nothing else to blame. My knees were failing, and it was extremely hard to accept. Out of ego and also out of respect for the others, I didn’t want the group to slow down, so only our guide Ed stayed back, walking behind me without saying a word. He’s a military man and I could only imagine how much pain he must have seen, how much misery he must have endured over his years of service. So I walked and suffered every step without saying a word. I wanted to talk to him, but just couldn’t. He only spoke to me once, saying we were getting near. That was an hour before we hit our first destination.

In this quiet agony, we finally reached our mid-point stopover in a village where I collapsed for a couple of hours, before having to start to move again to our final destination. Everyone in the group was so kind and helped me out in their own way, whether by sharing a few pills, vitamins, oils, bandages, words or prayers. Even the village elder lent me one of his bamboo canes to continue the trek. Where was my friend, Godlove the bone doctor, when I needed him?

I’m not sure if it was the pills or the prayers, the pride or the shame, that kept me going, but I did it – with help from my friends – and I walked with my torturous affliction to the end.

Douala, Cameroon, May 11, 2010

On the way out from Douala to Zürich, going from peeing in a small hole in the floor to a gleaming white toilet with automatic flushing, I couldn’t help but notice all of our differences, some good and some bad. For instance, our obsession with time, clocks, plans and schedules maybe makes us miss the enjoyment of each other like Africans do. Capitalism promotes individualism, the race for more money, higher social status, bigger paychecks, working for the next raise, paying half of it in taxes, all these have taken over family values and friendship.

We need to communicate faster, hear the news as immediately as possible, get the latest thoughts, tweets and posts, however relevant they are. We spend too much time obsessing about celebrities, entertainers, actors, royalties and sports figures, who all get paid amounts we could never imagine.

Besides the wars in Africa, our western societies also seem to be more filled with gruesome crime, first degree murders, harassment and bullying. Our common diseases count HIV amongst others, but our health issues and sicknesses also seem to be slightly different than in Cameroon, as all types of cancer is more prevalent in our lives, problems with obesity, obsession with body image and beauty. And then, in the end, like everyone else, we search for enlightenment, self-accomplishment and the meaning of our lives. What we do have in common is politics and corruption, but also our sense of building family, raising children and sharing fraternity.

But our reason for traveling to Cameroon and visiting these remote villages is our profound belief that every human being on this planet, young or old, boy or girl, deserves at least the very basic needs to sustain themselves with food, clean water, shelter, proper health conditions and a better education. That is why we were there.

The Obakki Foundation doesn’t just raise money and give it blindly. It sets sail and anchors in the region. We studied the people we are helping, getting to know them personally, visit them frequently, establish long-term relationships and hold them accountable for the donations they will be receiving. As we entered the valley, the work Treana, Ed and all the humanitarian volunteers who accompanied them was apparent from village to village. For the past fifteen years, they’ve been recognized in the region for having raised the funds to bring electricity and water wells, empowering the people and saving many lives.

With all the existential questions that have stirred my mind and soul while on this trip, I can proudly say today that I was privileged to have been able to join this Obakki Foundation mission to Cameroon, to experience their commitment and share the impact of their contribution first-hand. I sincerely hope to have contributed in my own way to the success of their long-term goals.

Ziad

Our Incredible Volunteers – Mashiah

June 8, 2010

Today I’d like to tell you about Mashiah: courageous, ambitious and lovable beyond belief – our ‘star’ on the trip. What I liked most about Mashiah is the way she leads with her heart. Mashiah is someone who can show her emotions on all levels while maintaining a strong independence that keeps it all together. She jumps in with her whole heart, applies herself in a matter of minutes, experiences things to the max, explores what is being offered and then simply absorbs and processes it all. Not many people are able to do that.

Mashiah is a woman who will experience life to it’s fullest – on all levels – because she isn’t afraid of what it brings. Her courage pulls her through, her independence balances her, and her willingness to open her heart allows her to experience the best things that life has to offer. She came along (a last minute, spur of the moment decision) while she was in the middle of filming her new show, Deuces Wild, because she wanted to help, plain and simple. A beautiful, talented woman with an inspiring sense of courage and ambition, Mashiah traveled the LONG distance for 5 days in order to help. I think that says it all, doesn’t it?
xo,
T

Mashiah:
Where do I start? First of all, I really enjoyed this opportunity to travel to Cameroon with such a great group of people. However, in my wildest dreams I didn’t expect to see and experience what I did…this was an experience that will last a lifetime!

Our adventure started at the Cameroon airport: when we exited the plane I saw a world that I’ve never seen before. The airport was like an outdoor park with benches; the hustle and bustle was a little crazy as we tried to get our bags and exit into the waiting military truck.

We were greeted by Ed, a military soldier from Canada who organized transportation with Treana. We got onto the back of this truck and started driving quite quickly through traffic patterns I’d never seen before. All I could say was “wow”. I don’t even think there were lanes, but people knew to move out of the way of this truck or it would hit them!

I was shocked to see the amount of people out on the streets in the dark – it was just packed with people everywhere. One person who stuck out for me was a girl, probably no more than five-years-old, carrying a small baby on her back. She was on the side of the road with no parents around, just wandering in the dark.

That’s when it hit me: what I was seeing was the norm and I was going to be observing things I’d never witnessed before. I was in a new world and needed to throw out any ideas that I’d grown to know, and comforts that I’d relied on my entire life. I realized this was a whole new ball game where the same rules and norms didn’t apply. I was in Africa!

I went into this with a realistic view: if I could make a difference in at least one person’s life, it would be worth it. But when I actually arrived in the villages, my heart bled for these people – 12-year-old mothers to the men and women of the villages to the small children. Each and every one of them had a story.

I was saddened by their living conditions and tried to stay positive, knowing that this was their culture, but I felt so guilty for the way we live in Canada. We’re so fortunate compared to them and have so much while they suffer. If all was equal I know we wouldn’t have such blessed lives here. It’s like they are the ones that suffer for our riches. All of this left me with an unsettling feeling.

One of our stops was at an Orphanage where the Obakki Foundation is trying to build more housing for the children. The Directors of the orphanage took us on a tour of their facility. I was horrified to see what the children were eating…snails and rats. I tried again not to judge, but thought to myself how can our world be so wrong that this can actually happen? The Directors also informed me that they need proper fences because kidnappers come in at night and take the children to sell them on the black market.

We then trekked deeper into the jungle and met with many villagers, holding focus groups to suss out their needs and wants, and better understand their overall living conditions. It was difficult to return to Canada after being in Africa and seeing all the artificial and superficial things we have and take for granted. I also never understood why every child, and there were a lot, had such a happy spirit about them. They were so full of life and energy, sick or not sick, they truly are the most amazing children on this planet. I will forever remember that.

The Obakki Foundation has a long road ahead in helping to better the lives of the people I met, but every little bit helps and I will be 100% on board for whatever project they are doing in the future. I will always be involved. I am so fortunate to have experienced this first hand. I openly challenge anyone who really truly wants to make a difference to get out of your comfort zone and go out and help in any way you can.

Our Incredible Volunteers – Rod

June 3, 2010

Today I’d like to tell you about Rod (aka Dr. Rod): uplifting, compassionate and incredibly balanced – our doctor on this trip. What I enjoyed most about Rod was the way he easily connected with people, all people. He is someone you just want to be around. He’s incredibly humble, with over 23 years of specialized experience and no attitude or pretentiousness. Rod finds the good in everyone he meets – in fact, I think he draws it out of everyone.

He has an incredible passion for life and goes at things with his full heart. Ambitious, dedicated and unbelievably kind, we all found ourselves enjoying his company. I found he lifted me up during times I was heading ‘down’ and I am sure he did the same for others. He brought a lot of hope to the people he touched and his presence and his involvement was instrumental to our success.
xo
T

Rod:
I am by no means a neophyte to third world medical conditions. I have worked in South Africa, and while the extent of disease was similarly as broad as Cameroon with tropical diseases and poor living conditions, the medical facilities were remarkably good by comparison as was the infrastructure of roads and telecommunications. I have also travelled to Santa Cruz, Bolivia to operate on children with cleft lip and palate deformities. While poverty was rampant there as well, neither of these previous experiences could have prepared me for what we witnessed in these remote villages of Cameroon.

Public health issues predominate. The paucity of clean water and absence of sanitation are extensive. Before one would consider attempting to treat some of the conditions we see on a long term basis, prevention of people becoming sicker by simply establishing clean water sources and a way to safely dispose of sewage will be paramount. I did hike with Ed, Treana, and Bruce to the recently completed dam upstream from all of the villages we visited which reassured me that at least one part of this equation is going to soon be met. Running water is flowing from the pipes leaving the dam and when the sediment traps are completed downstream of this next dry season, drops of clean water will be that much closer to the mouths of children. One villager in a focus group even commented that he has heard of how well the village of Lewoh is now doing simply because they had received clean water and sanitation from CIC a number of years ago. He said he has been praying that we can do the same for his village. I won’t soon forget his comment that followed. It was heartfelt and genuine – he didn’t beg or ask for a free handout. In his broken english he stated, “We don’t need a ton of money; please just think common sense if you are looking to help us”.

His comments were soon echoed by another villager when we were discussing the issue of the high incidence of people suffering from epilepsy, a concern highlighted in each of our focus group interviews. This particular man was trying to express to us the passionate desire that many villagers have for knowledge and education about the things they do not understand. They have been educated to know that the anopheles mosquito causes malaria. They understand that typhoid is carried in dirty drinking water. But epilepsy puzzles them. Children and adults can have seizures from epilepsy but as it is the result of a number of different possible diseases, there is a lack of clear understanding of why someone has epileptic seizures. They are, of course, a frightening event for anyone to witness in any society, but when there is no knowledge of what the cause of this condition is, it is obviously all the more frightening, as evidenced by his comment: “we think there might be an explanation for epilepsy, but since we don’t know, we can only assume that it is caused by witchcraft”.

The conditions of the few medical facilities that were in the area were absolutely abysmal, by any standard. While medication was made available by the government, supplies were very low for some medications, and not affordable in most instances for the average local Cameroonian. And yet, the nurses and lab technicians at these sites were doing tremendous work with what little they had. The “wards” that I was taken on a tour of consisted of a broken crib and nothing else in the “pediatrics ward”, and two mattresses on makeshift bedframes that were covered by mosquito nets with holes in them large enough for a small bird to fly through constituting the “female ward”. Layers of dust covered all of the furniture and doubtless the floors had not seen a mop in years. The idea of sterility for medical procedures was limited: the obstetrical instruments used to assist in child delivery sat in the open on a dirty wooden table with flies taking turns residing on the instrument handles. If a delivery were imminent, the nurse informed me that a basin of warm water would be brought to try to reduce contamination of the instruments at least to some degree. It is small wonder that maternal mortality rates are so high when the basics that we take for granted are so wanton. Only a few days later did this present so vividly to us when Pat was holding the one month old infant orphan at the Hotpec orphanage – the child’s mother did not survive childbirth.

But amid the horrid conditions and diseases that both breed so readily amid such poverty, are the signs of hope and the small glimmers of humanity that make me appreciate the human condition no matter what the circumstance. I cannot recall seeing more than one child crying during our entire trip. I did not witness a single temper tantrum. I did not hear a child whining. Rather, I saw every little child that was less than about 3 years of age be accompanied by another child, likely a sibling, who was usually no more than 5 or 6 years their senior. The older child would either be carrying the younger child, holding its hand, or have their arm around that younger child caring for them. With both parents often out in the fields for the day, these children stuck together in the most loving and touching of ways. Such atrocious living conditions have fostered a resilience in these people that is truly remarkable and is most evident in the actions of their children. Despite the children having the distended bellies from malnutrition brought on by the infestation of intestinal worms, one quick wave from us and they were smiling beautiful smiles with the whitest sets of teeth – teeth that were unadulterated by years of sugary foods. The childrens’ affectionate displays of caring and love for one another was pervasive.

As we departed, traveling through each village again by retracing our steps on the only road out of the valley, I was left with the feeling that the hope for this place lies within these children. A young boy, perhaps no more than 5 years old, came running out of one of the mud huts toward our passing Helix. As with most of the children of this valley, he had only one piece of clothing. Children seem to either have a tattered shirt or torn pair of pants, but rarely if ever both. This boy had a maroon shirt on with the usual holes and tears in the armpits. He had only one shoe on, but this again is standard attire – it is likely that another child in the family gets that shoe’s counterpart, as there are not enough shoes for everyone. But as he runs toward the Helix in his one flip-flop, he is shouting and waving, blazing white teeth shining through his wide smile. He shouts as he waves to us “We love you, Canada!” Though it’s hard to leave knowing we haven’t done nearly as much as we would like to have, we have left the most important thing here that we could have. A sense of hope in the children.

Our Incredible Volunteers – Shannon

June 2, 2010

Today I’d like to tell you about Shannon: witty, dynamic and solid as a rock – our nurse on this trip. What I liked most about Shannon was her contrast. She could be ridiculous, fun and crazy, yet turn around seconds later and contribute something intensely meaningful to the group’s serious discussion. She was very intelligent, insightful and she brought a lot of great ideas to the table.

Under her great sense of humor and spicy charm, Shannon is a strong woman who has the natural ability to bring groups of people together. Through her respectful and considerate attitude, as well as her confident participation, Shannon will be an active member of our team and help us take giant steps towards positive change.

xo,
T

Shannon:
I work as a community health nurse on a First Nations reservation and as a harm reduction nurse on the streets of Calgary. I’ve found that my career choices require a lot of humility in order to be effective, so I always look forward to eating a dose of humble pie. Suffice to say, this trip was the biggest piece I’ve had thus far. Upon returning home, it’s hard to relate these experiences and witness the sterile abundance of nothingness that is taken for granted. My thought processes were quickly simplified from neurotic ruminations to having a more clear understanding of what is important in life. Not through romanticized visions of a noble peasant life, but from the realization that people can be truly happy without investing all their energies in material gain.

My first major impression of Cameroon was cruising down the highway from the airport in our military truck, driving into opposing traffic, while frantically protecting our gear from a torrential down pour. All the while the driver was applying constant pressure to the horn. Doe-eyed newbies like myself were looking around and asking, “Is that our truck’s horn?” Had this occurred by the end of the trip, we would’ve looked around, raised an eyebrow, giggled and continued trying to nap.

What I enjoyed most about this experience was seeing true community-driven development in action. Walking two hours one-way to engage a key stakeholder in proposed upcoming events demonstrated the necessity of respecting the cultural and political protocols that have been in place long before our arrival. The methods of assessment utilized ensured that a potential health plan would be community-owned, versus being a paternalistic agenda that speaks to what outsiders feel is needed (something I’ve seen in practice far too often when working with disempowered communities). Hence, observing this process and working with such a diverse and lovely group of people was an uplifting experience.

By the time we were ready to go, the group members were giddy and well-bonded (much like summer camp). Two weeks felt like two months in a very satisfying way. I met great people and gained life experience. All I can say for myself is, thank you for having brought me here…how did Ed know humble pie was my favourite?