How to Crack a Smile in 5 Days

Last week during the SINAPISI camp, I had a very interesting little “shadow.”  His name was Olivier.

On Sunday, we always have orientation for the camp to come.  We talk about the kids, the projects, and lessons to be taught.  After, we venture to the location of the camp and meet the kids that are there. 

As we entered the SINAPISI camp, yells of “Hope Shines,” covered the orphanage and children came running up to our cars.  As I got out of the car to greet the children, I noticed a small hand wrapped around my leg.  It was Olivier.

To be honest, I don’t really remember him from last year, but he is 4 now so I’m sure he was too little to really participate in camp.  The rest of the evening as I walked around the orphanage, Olivier was glued to me.  He didn’t need much, but he was always connected to me in some fashion.

The unique thing about my new “attachment,” was that he was expressionless.  He would only make eye contact with me, but in a very meek manner.  Usually any four year old is filled with an insurmountable energy and barely can manage only to run around with wreck-less abandon for minutes at a time.  Olivier was different.

As I went to leave SINAPISI on Sunday, Olivier did not want to be separated from me.  We had a connection.  Just like I felt with Anne Marie, we had a deeper connection.  Olivier felt it and so did I. Not because he picked me, but because the forces of nature pulled us together. 

I explained that I would return the next day, but regardless of my promises, the tears began to flow.  In hysterics, he was swept up by his house-mother as I drove away in one of our transport cars. 

As I was riding away I recapped the day’s visit.  I wasn’t sure if Olivier would even remember me the next day, as he was four.  Four year olds tend to forget very quickly…  More questions poured into my head, “Why won’t he smile?”  “Why is he so meek?” “Why me?”

As the week progressed, Olivier continued to be transfixed by my presence.  Eventually I named him, “The Pink Shadow,” as he was always by my side and on that particular day he had worn a pink sweater tied around his neck.  Olivier even missed his nap-time to spend time in my group in the afternoon.

Finally, Thursday was marked a special day to me.  I got Olivier to smile!  It was small, but it counted as I watched the small smirk spread across his face.  I’m pretty sure my own face was contorted into some odd expression, but none-the-less, it worked!

By Friday, Olivier was dancing with me.  The name of the game was that I would pick a dance move and then he would imitate.  Of course, I had to eventually get him to pick the dance moves, but that was by Friday evening.

As I departed from SINAPISI, I realized that I have yet another reason to return next year. 

I grow sad as I know that I’ll have to wait an entire year hoping that everything goes well, but that’s part of the risk I guess.  The risk is worth the love I feel with these children, the fun I have with them, and the hope that I can make a difference in their lives.

On Sunday I returned the SINAPISI camp to finish up medicals and Olivier found me.  As we were waiting for his turn in line, he showed his full confidence through playing games with me, giggling, crawling up on my lap to count my jewelry, and much more. 

There came a time when he clambered down off of my lap and ran out of the building.  In about 2 minutes he returned with a small yellow heart bead and handed it to me.  Touched, I quickly undid my necklace and slid the bead on the chain.  Olivier looked up at me and once again I watched a huge grin flash across his face.

As I write this, I still have Olivier’s bead on my necklace.  It’s moments like these that melt my heart and inspire me to return to Rwanda.  I can’t wait until I get to see Olivier again and see if he remembers our connection.

With Care,
Chelsea

The Show Must Go On

So we’ve all heard about people eating salads and getting horribly sick in foreign countries, but that’s because of an unintelligent decision on the consumer’s part.  What if you did nothing wrong, but still got ill while traveling?  Yes, that was my Monday.

Monday I woke up ready for the beginning of Hope Shine’s 2013 Camp at SINAPISI orphanage.  Excited, I woke up early, ate a huge breakfast, and started reviewing the planned activities with the other volunteers.  Then, suddenly, I felt “it.”  I place quotations around “it” as “it” is the thing you never want to feel when you’re traveling.  “It” is the middle ground sensation deep in your stomach of unsettled unhappiness.  I might even attach the title of, “ache” to what I felt inside my stomach.

I quickly assumed I was just nervous; as I was, and pushed on to talk more. 15 minutes after I ate I had to excuse myself to regroup.  Unfortunately regroup meant hugging the porcelain throne for about 10 minutes.  My roommate, Kaliegh, walked in the room and I warned her of my need of close proximity to the bathroom.  The fear I read on her face was the same emotion I was forcing myself to subdue.  I did not want to admit that I was sick.

I gathered myself, walked down the stairs, out the door, and into our mode of transportation to the SINAPISI orphanage.

If you’ve ever traveled you’ll understand that I had no choice but to push forward.  I had to have faith that I could get through my day.  Monday was bigger than me, I had 100 children depending on me to show up and spend time with them. 

It’s moments like these that I love while I travel.  Your life perspective opens up and you don’t let anything get in the way of your mission.  From July 25, 2013-August 11, 2013 my mission is my kids in Rwanda.  Sick isn’t an option.

If I had stayed home sick I wouldn’t have met little 2 year-old Yuegette. 

Yuegette is the most observant and helpful child I’ve come across thus far in my life.  This little nugget is so smart, she has surprised me already so much in just three days time. 

On Monday all the kids were tracing out something and I just gave Yuegette a piece of paper and showed her that she could draw whatever she wanted.  She’s a 2 year-old.  She won’t be able to understand that the older kids are tracing, let alone trace!

Wrong!  She looked at me really confused and then in about 5 minutes she stood up, grabbed the template to trace, and attempted to trace it!  The tracing was an abstract interpretation, but this little child actually did the project with everyone else! 

As of recent, I’ve had people consistently ask me, “Why Africa?”  To me it’s quite simple as it’s not about Africa, but it’s about Anne Marie, Sophia, Diane, Etien, Poseidon, Anita, Rita, Sonya, Mary, Marta, Linda, Linka, Mucho, Ivan, Jean de la Croix, Jean Paul, Elvis, Diana, Jenifer, Odielia, Kesia, and many more…

I think we spend so much time looking at the big picture and not at the little details.  My kids here in Kigali are the little details and they challenge my emotions, my spirit, my temper, and most importantly my heart everyday.

I look forward to these next two days with my SINAPISI kids, but also loathe the fact that it’s only two more days.  Saying goodbye is always the most difficult.

Until next time,

Chelsea

A Traveler's Thought of the Day

Have you ever tried to take a shower with no shower curtain and no shower-head holder? 

If you have then you will completely understand what I’m about to write, if not, enjoy!

How in the world are you supposed to not get water EVERYWHERE!

The hotel that I’m staying in for my first two days in Rwanda fits the description above.  Since I’ve travelled and showered in a lot of unique places with interesting circumstances, I thought I’d try a few new techniques.

1.     Bathe body first and then hair second:  This way the wet hair will not drip everywhere as you try to bathe your body.

2.     Turn water off while lathering body:  This way no unwanted pulse of water out of the shower-head will hit the bathroom floor.

3.     Get on knees while lathering hair:  This way less water can get out of the tub

4.     Accept a new definition of clean:  This means if I get the area wet then I will consider it clean, forget soap.

With all of these new ideas put into practice I learned one important lesson.  They don’t work!  Why?  One word, elbows. 

I’ve learned that the human elbow poses a series of issues while bathing without a shower curtain.  For instance, you can attempt to control where the water goes, but once it rolls past your shoulder blade it will fall to your elbow.  From the elbow, the water will be pulled by gravity in abstract directions.  Based on how much you choose to bend your arm is directly proportional to how much water will fall in an undesired location.

Problem is, I haven’t figured out the proper angle of my bent arm to fix the problem.  I seem to have only discovered how to make more of a mess…

Needless to say, I am back to the drawing board for new ways to not make my bathroom look like a monsoon. 

Until next time,

Chelsea

How to be a Tourist

For the past 6 days I have been in the lovely city of Barcelona.  It’s crazy to think that I’m visiting this amazing place for a fourth time, but there’s something about the region of Catalunya that I find so attractive.   Living in New York City can be intoxicating, but sometimes you need a moment to rewind and see how others live.  The quality of life in the area of Spain is so wonderful and that is definitely emulated in the Agusti Vallejo family.

My “Spanish family,” as I call them, always takes me in as one of their own.  Surrounded by friends and family, I am always sure to have a wonderful experience when visiting.

This past weekend I went to their beach residence in Sant Pol, just a 45 minute drive from Barcelona.  As I was packing for the beach rendezvous, I discovered a very severe problem.  I had no camera charger.

I ransacked my small gathering of clothing  and supplies for my month-long trip, but no charger.  Flustered and embarrassed I started to try to figure out what to do next.  I needed a camera.  No pictures in Africa with the kids just seemed unimaginable and surely not an option.

On the drive to Sant Pol I decided to email a friend coming to Rwanda to try to find a universal charger, but I still faced quite a predicament…  I only had 1 battery for the next week in Spain.  I had to choose what moments were worth capturing versus wasting battery life on unimportant ventures.

Saturday came and went.  I got to spend some time with the lovely Te Perez, a Simonson teacher, and her family on the beach.  Anna Agusti and I talked on and on about her new choreography projects, the human body, and more.  I watched Joan, Anna’s son, play a hockey/futbol game.  I saw PT’s rowboat.  I drank a Clara with friends as the sun set and the moon rose.

I didn’t take a single picture.

I realized that I didn’t need to.  The memories were appreciated on a much deeper level.  I wasn’t hiding behind a camera lens.

As I was rearranging my backpack for the ride home, I found my charger in the bottom of my bag.  As the emotions of embarrassment and relief came flooding in, I also gathered a new understanding of how to best use my photographic tool.

Are you a tourist or a visitor?  That is my question to you.

As I walk through the touristic locations in Barcelona, I now see that too many people miss the important moments and struggle to capture them forever in a stationary image.  Some moments are not to be frozen as tangible photo paper.  Some moments are to be entirely enjoyed.

I think that if four years ago I’d come to Spain with the preconceived notion to solely be a tourist, I wouldn’t have such amazing connections in Catalunya now.  I didn’t merely attempt to obtain evidence that I’d visited Spain, but rather I chose to create relationships and maintain friendships.

Next time you venture somewhere near or far I challenge you to leave with more than pictures. 

Until next time,

Chelsea  

Third Time's the Charm!

Hello,

It’s been a while…  A year to be exact…  “Rwanda, again?”  You ask.  Well, as most things go, I guess it’s best to start at the beginning.

Since my first journey to Rwanda in 2011, I returned home perplexed with how to better apply myself to my craft, my daily pursuits, and overall my life’s journey.  It seems that my 150 children in Rwanda not only instilled a passionate drive to return to them again, but also an inner lying confusion in how to make the menial tasks meaningful.

I quickly moved to New York City and signed a contract with a Dance Competition called StarQuest International.  I had a blast and met some amazing people as I ventured to a new U.S. city every weekend watching dances on the stage as an auditor/judges manager.  At the end of the touring season I was offered a full-time position as their Bookings Director, which consisted of managing the contracts and scheduling of each venue we visit.

Confident that I had found my “niche”, I planned a return trip to my kids in Rwanda.

The second year in Africa was vastly different from the first, but that was to be expected as a lot had happened in 11 months.  Kigali felt more like home than an adventure and I liked that.  Among many things, the ethereal sensation of breathing in the African air a second time was something so gratifying.  Words fail me to express the sensation.

Seeing the kids’ faces light up with the knowledge that I had returned to them was so inspiring.  It was in these moments with the children that I realized that my comfortable job in NYC was not my end goal.  It wasn’t the job itself that was wrong, but the fact that I wasn’t contributing to anything greater than the company.  I had grown content in security.

Since my sojourn in 2012, a lot has happened in my life in what may seem a most uneventful and uninspiring way.

Searching for purpose I chose a route that many confused young people do, pursuing a master’s degree.  I knew that I wanted to dance, create, and educate.  So obtaining more institutional knowledge seemed like a good idea.

After many university auditions and interviews, I felt confident that I had made several good impressions with various faculty, students, and staff.  I learned a lot as I traveled and investigated each program.  This process even served as a catalyst for an emotional analysis of abstract movement I’m working on and calling CAMotion.  Of course I had my top choices, but many were good choices. 

Four months later I held six letters in my hands, and all were rejections.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly devastated.  I’d put myself out there as an artist, an eager potential student, and the answers were no.

Shortly after, I had a meeting with my NYC boss who informed me that my Bookings Director position was being transferred to the North Carolina headquarters to be managed by the owner. 

At the end of May I found myself applying for unemployment, no immediate plans, and a little lost.  Africa was definitely not in the picture.

June was by far the best month I’ve had in a long time.  I threw myself back into dancing by participating in the Simonson Teacher Training program.  This “safe-movement practice, beginner jazz” teaching course was amazing.  To fully describe my experience I’ll have to dedicate an entire blog to it, but for now just know that it was exactly what I needed.  The course ended and I knew that teaching dance and creating is what I’m meant to do.

So then Africa…  I had kids wanting to know if I was coming back…  Let’s be honest, explaining that you are in no financial state to do so it quite difficult when someone is depending on you to be their constant.  The overwhelming sense of guilt was eating away at me.

After lots of talking with my parents, frequent flyer miles, and the help of a lovely friend; I booked another trip to Africa.  I’m even so blessed that to cut the trips’ cost, I’ll be spending a week in Barcelona with friends. 

My goal in Africa this year to tell my kids that coming back every year is not a reality for me.  I want them to understand that I will do everything I can to come see them, but it cannot be promised to be consistent.  I felt like when I left Africa last year I had written a run on sentence.  This year I intend on putting a period at the end of it. 

Do not confuse this with never returning, but for now, I need to focus on getting myself straightened out and secure before I can make honest promises to others.

I’m not going to lie, there’s a lot of stress and unknown right now in my life.  Job applications are going out everyday and I am maintaining faith that something will pan out.  I’m going to do my best to fully embrace this trip for what it’s worth and hopefully at the end of it I’ll have gained a nugget of knowledge I didn’t know I needed to find.

Next time I write I will hopefully be in Spain surrounded by the support of my lovely Catalan family.

Until next time,
Chelsea