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Monday, May 4, 2009
Second Block.
Today I had the great pleasure of introducing students at Haverford High School to charity:water. They were worth the commute. The Global Issues Club there put together a fantastic panel - and by that I mean ME. Ha! It was great to share my experiences in the face of the water crisis, and to field their amazing questions. It got me excited for my time this July in Zambia with Water for the Oppressed!
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support me.
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Thursday, March 12, 2009
charity: in chelsea
Tuesday night was a charity: event at Chelsea Market in New York City. Tegan and I took names, and coats, and time to check out the photo exhibit that will be up there through the end of May. Even the bathrooms contain a charity: message - the fact that we use more water to flush a toilet than most people in the developing world use for washing, cooking, cleaning, etc. in a day. The exhibit is an awesome way to bring a bit of perspective into the every day. See for yourself!Sponsor Me
Sunday, February 22, 2009
And in Conclusion...
My favorite little kid move is what I refer to affectionately as "the deadweight". It is that full body protest where one goes entirely limp, generally in a public place while the adult in your charge struggles to hold you up and get you moving again. Every time I think about my impending flight back to the States, this is the picture of struggle that comes to mind. Rwanda has been sewn into my heart for some time now, and I think that it will always be so. The thought of leaving this place is heartbreaking, but makes these last days even sweeter.
Friday was our last hygiene training in Ruhango, a little community off the beaten path, a couple hours south of the main city. Our hostess there, a woman who lost her entire family in the genocide, gave us a high compliment when we left... She had tears in her eyes. That is something. We drove out with a pile of singing kids (and Tegan) in the truck bed. I am honestly going to miss them, and hope for the day that I can visit again. May my Life bring me back to them soon.
The only thing that makes leaving ok, is the thought of being with y'all. Can't wait to see you. Get ready for some amazing coffee mixed with a little bit of culture shock. And stay tuned for the next adventure. It's coming soon...
www.waterkate.com
Friday was our last hygiene training in Ruhango, a little community off the beaten path, a couple hours south of the main city. Our hostess there, a woman who lost her entire family in the genocide, gave us a high compliment when we left... She had tears in her eyes. That is something. We drove out with a pile of singing kids (and Tegan) in the truck bed. I am honestly going to miss them, and hope for the day that I can visit again. May my Life bring me back to them soon.
The only thing that makes leaving ok, is the thought of being with y'all. Can't wait to see you. Get ready for some amazing coffee mixed with a little bit of culture shock. And stay tuned for the next adventure. It's coming soon...
www.waterkate.com
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Three for Three.
Today I watched Living Water International Rwanda restore three pumps successfully in a province outside of Kigali. I wish you could have seen the expressions on their faces when water started pouring out of each rehabilitated well. If Heaven is close to anything in this life, I think it is like the feeling that hangs in the air when little hands are cupping fresh water to little lips, for the first time in a long time. Or when a little Rwandese boy who did not believe we were coming back to fix his broken pump, looks on as Rwandese men restore water to his community. Or when you are standing on a hillside hand in hand with this team, and these people thanking your God for another day, another breath, and water that is clean - against a sky stained by a massive rainbow. No joke. If Heaven is like anything in this life, today came pretty near to it. Maybe another way to say it, is that Heaven came pretty near to me, today.
Support me.
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Living Water International.
Support me.
www.waterkate.com
Living Water International.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Why I Love It Here.
I abhor the long blog post... But I wrote this. I want you to read it. Love, Kate.
It is 2009, and all anyone can say to me as I am leaving for Kigali, Rwanda is some variation of, “Be safe; come home soon.” I find myself wondering at what point people stopped looking over their shoulder for the SS and Gestapo in Western Europe, and just enjoyed the landscape, the people, and my favorite – the food. Why is it so difficult to believe that not all of sub-Saharan Africa is a waking nightmare? Yes, Rwanda is only fifteen years removed from one of the most horrific ethnic cleansings in human history. Yes, there is extreme poverty here beyond what we even know to imagine. Yes, kids are drinking muddy water and are dying of diseases that are painfully preventable; those things should absolutely break your heart. The weight of this reality can crush you if you let it. But this place, like any, holds the same great potential for hope and joy as it has for pain and loss.
You can hear it here. Every night since I’ve been in Rwanda, I have woken up to this unabashed laughter coming from the golf course across the street. Like the laughter from your gut, generally reserved for little kids who may or may not know what they are laughing so hard about. The other night, four of us walked down to the club through the rain to investigate the source of it. The culprit was a guy named Julius and his friend Michele, a lawyer and a cellular service executive. We sat up until midnight finding out what was so funny. These guys call their spot the “19th hole”, and come sometimes just to hang out even if they are not golfing that day. Both grew up in countries that border Rwanda, and returned home in the wake of the genocide. That is true of a lot of people here in Kigali. This place is on the upswing.
You can feel it here. It is impossible to go a day in Rwanda without dancing. I asked my friend, Revinah for the translation of this Kinyarwanda song that was on the radio yesterday. She said that it basically means, “The women of Rwanda are so beautiful that when we come, you can just go”. Check them out. She taught me some traditional dance, and I showed her the robot. (Note: That is not my go-to dance move; we just happened to be listening to some 80s jams.) Today I was watching some Living Water International guys repairing a pump just east of the city for this wonderful, but intensely poor community. Kids came pouring in from all directions to see what was going on. My friend, Tegan and I rolled down the windows on our truck and cranked up the beats. You should have seen these little guys vibing. They put our meager palette of dance moves to shame. It is forever amazing me that they can grow up in material poverty, but retain this untouchable richness within.
You can see it here. This place is called the Land of a Thousand Hills for a reason. As an aquatic being, I was nervous about the withdrawal pains that may come with any significant time in a land-locked country. Thank God, Rwanda moves and overwhelms the soul just as satisfyingly as the sea, and I am thinking that this may be a fair trade. The weather reminds me of a little surfing town in California, every day a little closer to perfection than the last. Even the rain is magic. And this city at night is like the stars come down to earth. The view from anywhere will steal your breath, and then give it back long enough to take it away again. Rwanda’s light shines bright in this part of the continent – it exudes hope, even when it is asleep.
They say here, that God roams the earth by day, but comes back to rest in Rwanda at night. I do not know that the theology holds up, but I sure adore the sentiment. This place is in the midst of the kind of recovery that only He can orchestrate, and I wanted you to know about it. We should remember human tragedy, of course, and commemorate what the world lost in 1994. But we do not have to wade in the pain of it forever. The Rwandese people are not even doing that. No, this place is moving forward. It is opening up my mind to the depth of God’s ability to restore even the worst of situations. So be safe. And come here soon.
Support me.
www.waterkate.com
Living Water International.
It is 2009, and all anyone can say to me as I am leaving for Kigali, Rwanda is some variation of, “Be safe; come home soon.” I find myself wondering at what point people stopped looking over their shoulder for the SS and Gestapo in Western Europe, and just enjoyed the landscape, the people, and my favorite – the food. Why is it so difficult to believe that not all of sub-Saharan Africa is a waking nightmare? Yes, Rwanda is only fifteen years removed from one of the most horrific ethnic cleansings in human history. Yes, there is extreme poverty here beyond what we even know to imagine. Yes, kids are drinking muddy water and are dying of diseases that are painfully preventable; those things should absolutely break your heart. The weight of this reality can crush you if you let it. But this place, like any, holds the same great potential for hope and joy as it has for pain and loss.
You can hear it here. Every night since I’ve been in Rwanda, I have woken up to this unabashed laughter coming from the golf course across the street. Like the laughter from your gut, generally reserved for little kids who may or may not know what they are laughing so hard about. The other night, four of us walked down to the club through the rain to investigate the source of it. The culprit was a guy named Julius and his friend Michele, a lawyer and a cellular service executive. We sat up until midnight finding out what was so funny. These guys call their spot the “19th hole”, and come sometimes just to hang out even if they are not golfing that day. Both grew up in countries that border Rwanda, and returned home in the wake of the genocide. That is true of a lot of people here in Kigali. This place is on the upswing.
You can feel it here. It is impossible to go a day in Rwanda without dancing. I asked my friend, Revinah for the translation of this Kinyarwanda song that was on the radio yesterday. She said that it basically means, “The women of Rwanda are so beautiful that when we come, you can just go”. Check them out. She taught me some traditional dance, and I showed her the robot. (Note: That is not my go-to dance move; we just happened to be listening to some 80s jams.) Today I was watching some Living Water International guys repairing a pump just east of the city for this wonderful, but intensely poor community. Kids came pouring in from all directions to see what was going on. My friend, Tegan and I rolled down the windows on our truck and cranked up the beats. You should have seen these little guys vibing. They put our meager palette of dance moves to shame. It is forever amazing me that they can grow up in material poverty, but retain this untouchable richness within.
You can see it here. This place is called the Land of a Thousand Hills for a reason. As an aquatic being, I was nervous about the withdrawal pains that may come with any significant time in a land-locked country. Thank God, Rwanda moves and overwhelms the soul just as satisfyingly as the sea, and I am thinking that this may be a fair trade. The weather reminds me of a little surfing town in California, every day a little closer to perfection than the last. Even the rain is magic. And this city at night is like the stars come down to earth. The view from anywhere will steal your breath, and then give it back long enough to take it away again. Rwanda’s light shines bright in this part of the continent – it exudes hope, even when it is asleep.
They say here, that God roams the earth by day, but comes back to rest in Rwanda at night. I do not know that the theology holds up, but I sure adore the sentiment. This place is in the midst of the kind of recovery that only He can orchestrate, and I wanted you to know about it. We should remember human tragedy, of course, and commemorate what the world lost in 1994. But we do not have to wade in the pain of it forever. The Rwandese people are not even doing that. No, this place is moving forward. It is opening up my mind to the depth of God’s ability to restore even the worst of situations. So be safe. And come here soon.
Support me.
www.waterkate.com
Living Water International.
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