Rambling thoughts, journeys unfold...

Its the green that strikes me as I land, unexpected and yet welcomed...the rainy season is here, I've known it for a while, but the lush hills and storm clouds in the distance offer a picture of something vastly different then the heat and squalor the media captures. This is Nyala...at least for a few months, the rain offering a reprieve of sorts to the millions who call this home. In a way I suppose my presence here is supposed to offer a sort of reprieve as well to the people of Darfur...I feel like the two months of rain might be more effective...

Walkie-talkies blare, Land Rovers roar, security reports are issued, and crewfews enforced...the tired eyes of the locals and workers pass by in the blur of sorts, off to the office or the field or the home or market. Life goes on, in all place life goes on. It’s the sad and beautiful truth of our existence as human beings...captured daily and splashed across our televisions. Here it’s up close, the weekly security meeting speaks of raids conducted, roads that are unsafe, and shots that have been fired. While at home BBC talks of places far away; of bombs dropped, civilians starving, and fear gripping millions across the world.

My head swims. I'm angry, frustrated, sad, and confused.

500 civilians are dead in Lebanon and the world does nothing...friends say they won't be going home to Beirut any time soon, faces cry on TV, and thousands huddle in bomb shelters in Haifa when air raid siren go off...and somewhere someone believes that its worth it...

The DRC is set to have their first "free" elections in 40 years...the police shot at a local political rally and the Catholic Church has called for a boycott on grounds of vote rigging...

Hugo Chavez thanks Russia for selling it military weapons...

Exxon Mobil made $10.4 Billion dollars in profits this quarter, a 36% increase...

The rain has stopped for a moment. It’s quiet in the muddy streets, I think I'll go for a walk and try not to think about any thing...at least for a moment.

Journey of Arrival

As the searing heat disappears into cool of the oncoming evening the sun cast a dusty glow over the city. Stretching as far as the eye can see a vast array of unfinished brick building, standing only one or two stories, occupies the landscape. The half completed houses, steel rebar poking out from the top, plastic tarps forming makeshift roofs and windows, and ally ways lined with rubble and old bottles. This is the ever familiar scene of a third world city. Dust clouds raise and vehicles rumble over unfinished roads and children play in the street with what ever objects are available to them. This is Khartoum, as much as it is El Alto or Lusaka or Phnom Pen. It is the striking similarities that define the forgotten cities of the world, voicing a credo that seems to say “almost.”

It is a land that has become so familiar to me that I nearly call it home, hesitating only due to the realization of the injustice that statement would represent to the people who do not have the choice to leave it as I do. As night approaches and we make our way through the streets crowded with UN Land Rovers and military vehicles I am certain that everything is new to me…and that I have been here before.

Roadblocks along the way

In any true adventure into the developing world one is bound to run across the ever enjoyable buerocracy that rules the day. Take for example getting a visa into Sudan...now this is a process that is to be handled by the office in the states and once the issue is resolved my visa/passport will be FEDEX to me with no problems (ha). So the journey beings...

1st snag-The Sudanese Embassy decides to send my visa/passport back to my home address in Chicago instead of to work. This might only be a minor problem if they would have gotten the address right; instead they made an interesting combination between Chicago and Boston.

2nd snag-In order to save time my wonderful family (I really do thank you for all of your help) decides to FEDEX it to me. FEDEX explains that it will get to Cairo by Tuesday and be delivered to my hotel. On Tuesday I get a call from FEDEX that informs me that the package has arrived...

ME-"Wonderful, when will it be at my hotel"
FEDEX GUY-"well it is being held in Customs, so we need a copy of your passport and a release form from you"
ME-"ok fine, so will I get my package after that"
FEDEX GUY-"NO"
ME-"WHY"
FEDEX GUY-"Customs has to hold the package for 24 hours after receiving the release form in order to inspect it and process it"
ME-"What, that's nuts, its frigg'n passport, what is there to inspect"
FEDEX GUY-"that's the rules"
ME-"why didn't you tell me this before I sent the package, I could have sent it to you three days ago"
FEDEX GUY-"It's not our job to know the customs rules and regulations; we didn't know they would do this"
ME-"Aren't you and international shipping company, if it's not your job then who in the hell is supposed to know!"
FEDEX GUY-"also you have to pay a 140 Egyptian Pound customs fee"
ME-"Again, something that I should have known before all of this!"
ME-"So you can at least promise me that you will drop it at my hotel tomorrow night"
FEDEX GUY-"no, our last currier takes his route at 4pm, and you package won't clear customs until 5pm"
ME-"so let me get this straight, I hired you to deliver my package two days late, make me pay extra customs duties, and to come and pick it up myself"
FEDEX GUY-"YES"

Well that's life I suppose, never the less I have my plane ticket (another fun story) and my visa/passport is secured. I will arrive in Khartoum at 5am on Thursday and go from there. Always an adventure.

Small Paths to Far Off Places

Throughout my years of travel I have found that the most beautiful and heartbreaking part of the world in which we live is our interconnectedness. No matter how hard we humans try to live a life of isolation we are unable to do it. More and more each day the acts at one end of the world effect people on the other. I am not speaking merely of world oil prices and the effects of globalization, although the statement is true there as well. But rather I am thinking of the interconnectedness of human individuals.

Over a week ago a plane crash in Pakistan took the life of my friend's fathers. A year ago I would have never even heard of this crash and it would not have affected my life in any way. Now I hear of this accident and my eyes fill with tears and my heart breaks knowing the pain and sorrow that my friend and her family must be going through. I am frustrated by the fact that while I can get this information in a heartbeat, I am still separated physically by thousands of miles of space. Des[ite my frustration, my emails and phone calls offer me an opportunity that was not available a mere 15 years ago…a chance to reach out in a small way to someone I love.

This is the pain and the beauty of our global body, when one part hurts we all feel it. I would not trade the joy and happiness of my relationships around the world for anything, but the price to pay is that now the bombs in Gaza, the killings in Iraq, and the plane crashes in Pakistan are apart of me in a way they never where before. We should all be thankful for this, despite the pain it may cause. It allows us to remember those around the world in our hearts and prayers and hopefully moves us towards action to ease the pain…even if it can only be a phone call or an email.

I love you Saman, we all do

Faces along the journey

Traveling is a vivid collage of life's details, the pain and the suffering next to the beauty and joy that make up the lives we all live. As we separate ourselves from the familiar and venture into the unknown we are able to more clearly see these details.

Often in my travels the pain and injustice seem the most striking and capture my mind and heart which is then poured out on paper or in conversation. But the true beauty of the road are the faces that you meet along the way that offer you a glimpse of something that you didn't know before...something that changes who you are...

Ben was formerly in the Special Forces for the Israeli Defense Force until a suicide bombing terribly injured his leg and almost cost him his life. As we sat and spoke about life while enjoying a few glasses of wine he taught me that it is still possible to respect and even love your enemies even under the most difficult of circumstances...he gave me hope

Stumbling across the Jordanian border I found myself at a bit of loss on how to continue my way to Amman, until I ran into Yngvil. Yngvil works as the Middle East correspondant for the major newspaper in Norway and currently lives in Jerusalem. Her fluent Arabic and years of experience in the area made travel a breeze and her perspective on the conflict opened my eyes to new angels. As she shared about her interviews with Yasser Arafat, Palestinian militants, and Israeli Generals and their humility or pride I saw the weakness in us all and continued to be humbled

With a sketch book, pencils, and chalk in his bag David has made it from Scotland through Egypt and onto Jordan with a wide array of material. David won the biggest art scholarship in Scotland last year and has dedicated his project to following the path of the Alchemist of old from Egypt all the way to Hungry. His mere sketches of Petra took my breath, but his explanation that he views himself as the apprentice, the one who is truly transformed in the process of alchemy, is what took my heart. Never stop the changing force of life.

As the border guards went through every item in my bag as I tried to make it back to Israel, Samir waited patiently for me so that our bus to Tel Aviv won't leave me behind (delayed two hours at the border!). Samir is a Palestinian with Israeli citizenship who laughed and shared smiles and jokes with me even as we passed the prisons along the road that hold thousands of Palestinians. You could see the frustration in his eyes as we passed them, but a hope in his voice that at least we would learn something by seeing them as well.

Hey Mate! Rang out from waiting room, as a friendly Australian stuck his hand out at the Egyptian Embassy. Tim has been traveling all over the world shooting a documentary on how different societies deal with the social problems in their home countries. From the US to India and now the Middle East he has lived with the homeless, the oppressed, and the broken in order to begin to understand how they live. With a huge smile on his face he gives every person he meets a thumbs up and a resounding "thanks mate!" He tells me all this is new to his young and easy life back in Australia, he is eager to learn and eager to love...if only we could all be like Tim

This is just a tiny dip into the richness of the people I have met along the way and how they have changed me. This is the fun part of life, where joy is found...and I am so thankful.