Here is the information that I would tell you in person if I could remember it:
I am leaving on Friday, February 13th, 2009 on a flight to Nairobi, Kenya. I will be staying there for three months, living with a local family and working at an orphanage. The organization that I signed up with is called the International Volunteer Headquarters (IVHQ). They are based in New Zealand, and work internationally with pre-existing organizations. The Kenyan organization that I will be working with is Fadhili Helpers. While there, I will get the chance to go on a safari. While on safari, I fully intend to grapple with an alpha-male lion (or baboon, whichever charges the jeep first). I will emerge victorious, with a few strategically-placed, super-awesome scars, which I will refer to as visual aids for my autobiography, Meghan van Hoeve: Stories of Success, Survival and Awesome.
Everytime someone asks me if I'm excited, I halfheartedly offer a "yes," and a weak smile. Or I skip the smile and tell them that I'm "a bit nervous." Both of which are lame responses. For some reason, the only time I get really excited about going to Kenya is when I think about Belize. I should be excited. I've booked my tickets (through London on the way there and Zurich on the way back), I've bought a backpack (one that fits and is awesome), my iPod has been repaired (which is Apple-speak for "replaced"), I have all my needles (6 needles in one day), and I have Barack Obama's autobiography to be my guide to the country (yay!). Don't worry, I have a real guide book, too. I even have malaria medicine, of all things -- tropical diseases are like Pokemon, you gotta catch 'em all! The point is, I'm not excited because I'm scared as hell.
I'm not afraid of the things that I should be afraid of. My parents were worried when I told them I was going. (Permission? I do what I want.) John was angry. My grandpa was afraid that I would get AIDS. Liesl's worried that I'm going to bring home a black guy. Well, "worried" is probably the wrong word; perhaps "expectant," "excited," or more appropriately, "hopeful." I'm not afraid of malaria, yellow fever, AIDS, walking barefoot, getting sunburnt, getting lost, getting robbed... I'm afraid of meeting people. When I went to Belize, I didn't have to be afraid of meeting people, because I had my two best friends right there, and I made more best friends as I went along. But this time, I'm out on my own, for real. But this fear is the best feeling in the world. Who needs to feel comfortable and safe when I can feel scared and excited?
Now I'm excited.
We could most certainly debate the permission comment from a theological perspective. Suffice it to say, your parents blessed your travels with the purchase of the backpack. We will miss you.
ReplyDeleteYour photo is really great Meghan - and we look forward to more. This one reminds me of the photo of Frank running to get into the picture before the timer went off - no wild animals in pursuit tho.
ReplyDeleteCan't wait for your next post.