by JD | Feb 13, 2012 | Australia
We have arrived in Sydney, Australia to an aerial tour of The Sydney Opera House, The Harbour Bridge and the stunning picturesque views of the coast, hosted by The Royal Flying Doctors!
The Royal Flying Doctors (RFDS) is an amazing organization that has been doing great things in Australia since 1928.
Founded by Reverend John Flynn, RFDS is one of the largest and most comprehensive aeromedical organizations in the world. It delivers 24-hour Emergency Services to people in the most remote areas of Australia. In addition, it supplies primary health care throughout Australia. With a fleet of 61 aircraft operating from 21 bases across Australia, it provides medical assistance to over 278,000 people a year. Their motto is “No patient is more than two hours away from help!”. And that is saying alot, considering Australia is so huge and soooo spread out.
We are working for the South Eastern Section of RFDS. They have welcomed us to their offices here in Sydney, where the boys and I have been volunteering: folding mailings, assembling model airplanes and setting up fundraising efforts. We leave shortly for their main base in Broken Hill, the capital of “The Outback”! We will take the Indian Pacific over-night train, where we will be volunteering as porters to raise money for RFDS. Then off to Broken HIll, where it is apparently quite warm and teeming with kangaroos and snakes… and filled with friendly, local Australians. We will be volunteering in the Visitors Center there and working directly with the doctors, nurses, and emergency staff, documenting their heroic efforts. We have been invited to fly with them to remote areas, where they continue to administer emergency care and also set up various clinics to serve the outback.
Our itinerary includes: working with the staff at the main office, visiting the local university, the Maari Ma (an Aboriginal community health organization) and a tour of Broken Hill. We will visit various remote stations like Langawirra and Tibooburra, and will be introduced to School of The Air. This school was established in 1956 and now caters predominately to the geographically isolated students within a radius of approximately 300km from Broken Hill. In addition, we will see the White Cliffs, visit the White Opal Fields and actually stay at an underground motel.
Sydney is stunning. The kids are feeling at home here, where they speak our language, and the people could not be more friendly. The weather has been mild; a nice break from the heat of Africa. We are going to take in a bit of the city tomorrow and then head off to the Outback! Very exciting.
But the highlight other than meeting the great staff at RFDS in Sydney, was our flight around Sydney with our pilot, Ryan, who is an amazing pilot, teacher (he let me fly part of the time), and great tour guide from the air.
In addition, the boys and I each “had a go” at the flight simulator on the ground in the hangar.
Thanks to all the marketing staff at The Royal Flying Doctors including Jane, Michelle, Jonathan, Nick, Nicole, Danielle, Rachel, Sun, Kate, and Todd. Also Simon, David, and Ryan at Basair Aviation College!
What a great adventure in the Land Down Under. The Lewis boys are a lucky bunch of blokes.
More to follow…
by JD | Feb 5, 2012 | Australia
“Volun-tourism – See The World and Make A Difference!”
I did not coin the phrase, but I like it. In fact, so much so that my sons and I are living it!
We are traveling the world doing our best to make a difference. As many of you know, this all began when my eldest son came home from school one day and said, “Dad, we have this cool life, how come we aren’t doing more to make a difference in the world?”
That statement really struck a chord with me, and well, the rest is history. Twelve In Twelve was born: Traveling to 12 countries in 12 months doing humanitarian work on all 7 continents.
You can do it as well. And it doesn’t have to be 12 months. You can do it for a week, two weeks, one month: however long you wish. And you can travel wherever you like. Sure, you are thinking, “You can do it. You have money. You have a job you can leave behind.” Here’s the clincher! I don’t.
But I did have a strong desire to teach my children to make a difference in the world and to educate them to be global citizens. And with a simple plan, some elbow grease, and the help of some great friends and supporters, it happened. The goal of Twelve In Twelve is to educate and inspire others to do what we are doing. In addition, we want to be a hub in the states for the twelve organizations we have worked with abroad.
We have all taken the family on vacation, some trips more memorable than others. Most holidays are only vague memories. This will be one trip that will have lasting value in our lives. One that will stay with us forever.
We have been traveling for the last 7 months and it has been an extraordinary adventure. If we had done this trip as tourist, we would have stayed in hotels, gone to the tourist traps, bought the souvenirs, maybe met a few people in passing, and been able to say, “Yeah, I’ve been there, too.”
We have been staying in hostels, orphanages, with local families, at boarding schools, with friends of friends, and have lived with the locals. We have connected with real people, experiencing their histories, their culture, their talents, their dreams and their laughter. And the work, if you can call it that, is fun! And being of service and helping others feels great!
Some people will say, “I’m too shy”, or “It would make me uncomfortable”. There could not be a better way to meet people. You are there to give the gift of your help and people are open and available to it and appreciate it. A common purpose is always a great way to break the ice.
I can’t begin to tell you how many people we have met on this amazing journey. In our wanting to make a difference in people’s lives, our own lives have been profoundly changed.
The kids and I are learning the big life lesson, “That it’s in the giving, not the getting”. In our normal lives, we are so busy collecting things, saving for retirement, waiting for the promotion, and paying the mortgage, that we sometimes forget to live. We forget that we share a planet with so many amazing people. I’m not saying that monetary success or owning a home aren’t important. But perhaps more people need to look at living beyond the daily grind: Experiencing more joy, helping those in need, and feeling that life has deeper purpose beyond collecting more things.
My kids and I have never felt so alive and useful as we have while working with runaway teens in Russia, pushing a swing for a Chinese child with no use of his legs, holding a baby before surgery in Hong Kong, walking rescued elephants in the mountains of Thailand, creating art with orphans of the genocide, teaching English to eager students on Zanzibar, or writing plays with kids in Kenya.
We are a lucky family to be able to do all this. But it came out of a desire to make a difference. And when there is a desire to do good, the universe seems to support those kinds of efforts, and great forces come into being. Once we decided to do our project, it was amazing how our enthusiasm seemed to open doors: how we were able to gather information, how friends and family came out of the woodwork to help us, and how plans seemed to fall into place.
When the boys and I return, we will be setting up the network, to help others do global relief work, as well. Our goal is to be a resource to help others organize their trips to make a difference. Being a support system with suggestions for travel, medical advice, housing options, fund-raising ideas, and identifying worthy projects and organizations worldwide to work with. We have done the trial run and now want to share the information.
I always tell my acting students, “In a hundred years, we are all going to be dead. The tragedy is the life not fully lived!” In this age of technology and internet, the world is getting smaller and smaller. We have got to get out there, meet our neighbors, and perhaps lend a helping hand.
I know I may sound over-zealous, but having experienced this first-hand, it’s hard not to tell the rest of the world to join in too. It’s one risk you’ll never regret.
by JD | Feb 5, 2012 | Australia
We are in Perth, Australia getting ready to work with The Royal Flying Doctor and will be based in the outback! Yeehaw. Very excited. Check out the article.
http://www.parade.com/news/2012/02/05-12-good-deeds.html
by JD | Jan 20, 2012 | Kenya
I had always dreamed of visiting Kenya from the days of watching Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. For you younger folk, Wild Kingdom was the premiere nature show on black and white television when I was a kid.
Well, the dream has been realized. The plane touched down at Nairobi-Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. I knew we were in for interesting times. We lucked out and got right through immigration and were the first to get our luggage off the turnstile. And there was Sammy, our driver and the man with the plan, to pick us up.
I was aware of travel warnings for Nairobi, so I was ultra vigilant. With a driver picking us up and a safe place to stay, I felt we were in good hands. As we drove through the streets, I realized that this city was different… more metropolitan than the other African cities we had visited. Luxury malls, highways, office buildings. Don’t get me wrong… there was still the poverty, the dirt side streets and the occasional cow in the middle of the road, but it seemed like a city.
We arrived at our quarters – The HEART Foundation, a wonderful compound housing volunteers and relief workers in the Nairobi area. HEART is an acronym for “Health Education Africa Resource Team”, with a motto of Knowledge = Power = Survival. Their goal is to educate and empower the people of Africa to survive the HIV/AIDS pandemic. They are doing some amazing work in Kenya.
We stayed there for a day and a half to wait for our host, Don Howard of Rotary International, and also the founder of SCOPE (School Communities Offering Projects that Empower).
While in Nairobi, we were invited to visit Nyumbani, an orphanage for children with HIV. We had the good fortune of meeting the director, the charismatic and soulful, Sister Mary, who is truly doing God’s work here in Kenya. Nyumbani is a magical place, so well organized, clean, and obviously run with a lot of love. The kids greeted us with a song and smiles, and then gave us a tour of the grounds. Then Sister Mary announced she had arranged for the boys and I to visit one of their HIV clinics, this one in the center of Kibera, one of the largest slums in Africa.
Yikes, I thought. Kibera? Is it dangerous for the kids? Can we catch something? Are there kidnappings? She assured me that if we were accompanied by the clinic’s social workers, we would be fine.
We took the ride across town that would, once again, change our prospective forever. The driver said it was better to not bring the camera with us, but that he would stop outside of the slum, for us to take a picture.
As we descended the dusty road, there it was. The famed Kibera slums… so unique, so surreal. Almost unbelievable, it felt like a backdrop on the lot at 20th Century Fox. Miles and miles of rusted tin shacks for as far as the eye could see. A wasteland… a village for those unable to afford better, a haven of need and disease, and sometimes violence. A township of sewage-seeping creeks flowing through its narrow alleyways. The stench for a ‘westerner” is unbearable, though the locals seem to take no notice.
We arrived at the HIV clinic to be met by a staff of diligent workers who offered us a soda. They gave us a tour of their small facility in need of repair, it’s sole mission: to save lives. The clinic sees patients, does testing for HIV, administers medication and treatment, and deals with other life-threatening issues such as TB, Malnutrition, Cholera, Typhoid…etc. I’m in awe of their bravery and commitment.
The director of the clinic asked if we would feel comfortable doing rounds with two of the social workers. We agreed and began our trek through the alleyways of the “Tin City”. As we walked down the narrow alleys, children smiled, especially interested in Jackson and Buck. When I said, “Jambo”, or “Hibari”, they responded with surprise… Wow, this Muzungo (what they call Caucasian people) knows Kiswahili (the Swahili language)!
We arrived at our first location and pushed back a soiled sheet that doubled as a front door. There, in a dimly lit room roughly the size of a backyard shed, sat six woman in traditional dress, two holding infants. Jackson, Buck and I were introduced to the family and my “Hibari” seemed to impress them and make them smile, with a response of “Karibu”… meaning “welcome”.
We sat on a shabby sofa and instantly five or six kids appeared with curiosity at the curtained door. One little girl came in, stared at me in amazement, and then sat on my lap. I felt strangely at ease and part of this life for a moment. She then proceeded to wet herself. Normally, I would have stood and commented, but somehow I didn’t feel it appropriate. Instead, I gently sat her down next to me and made no notice of my wet pant legs.
The next home, down a dank alleyway, housed a quite attractive, thin woman and her child with HIV. The woman looked tired and we were told she was suffering from TB. I nonchalantly steered Jack and Buck clear of her, not knowing if she was contagious, and, in a panic, went through the checklist of our inoculations in my head. The child, in addition to having HIV, was diagnosed, then and there, with malnutrition. I asked our social worker how they came to that determination and she showed me the child’s swollen cheeks and an indentation on the top of each of her feet… a telling sign. The mother was instructed to bring the child to the clinic on Monday, this being Friday. My pushy American upbringing piped in, “But can’t they see her later today?”, to which our guide smiled knowingly and said that the clinic opens again on Monday.
I put myself in the place of that mom with TB, or the kids with HIV… we are all just one step away from any of these experiences. Luck of the draw… I could have been born in Kibera… or the slums of Mumbai… we are all these people. And this isn’t just flowery exposition; it’s what I feel deeply. And when I’m there in the middle of it, there is such a strong connection to all of it.
The rest of the day we witnessed similar experiences… checking in on kids and their caretakers. As my sons and I walked through this daunting world, I thanked God for giving us the opportunity to experience it. We would head back to our accommodation that evening exhausted both physically and emotionally. Kibera will stay with us a lifetime and I have vowed to return and do what I can to help there. I applaud Sister Mary, and the like, for all they do, on a daily basis, to make a huge difference.
The next day, we left Nairobi and headed west to the town of Kisii, where we teamed up with SCOPE founder, Don Howard. I was asked to run an acting workshop for 6 different schools in the area, as they were preparing for a national theater arts competition. The 3-day workshop was held at a small hotel, (more of a motel, really). The kids were invited by SCOPE to stay at the inn for the entire workshop (2 nights). It was the first time that the majority of these kids had slept away from home, let alone spent a night in a hotel. By our western standards it was quite funky, but by Kisii standards it was first class. The kids loved it.
The workshop started in its normal tentative manner… the kids shy and staring at the floor, having difficulty sharing their names loud enough for anyone to hear. But as some of you know, God gave me the gift of being a “goof-ball” and the un-canny ability to rile people up… so by the middle of the first day, I had the kids jumping around and having a great time.
After a day of getting acquainted, the next morning, the real work began… writing the beginnings of original works for them to present at the competition. With such a short time, we weren’t going to be able to write an entire play, but I felt I could at least get them started.
I encouraged the students to pick subjects that excited them. In Kenya, kids are a bit trained to say what they think the adults want to hear. Children are definitely seen and not heard in Africa. So their first suggestions seemed a bit canned. And after I blew the roof off that, we got down to business. They wanted to write plays about political corruption, and lack of latrines at school, and illegal child labor, and my favorite “Why It’s Important To Have FUN”. That particular play would include the music of Bob Marley. Yeehaw!
Each school got together and through improv and throwing ideas around, we came up with some amazing work. And the best part, the kids were having a blast doing it! They were the writers; they were the directors, the real artists. I, with the help of Jackson and Buck, managed to just keep them on track.
The weekend ended with a five-minute performance from each group… each inspiring, each moving. And these kids!!! These kids were coming out vocally, having the time of their lives, and performing their heads off. It’s makes this kind of work so magical and gratifying. And I don’t care what anyone says, “Art Makes A Huge Freakin’ Difference In The World!!!”
After the weekend, lead by Don and his team, we got to visit each of the schools that had participated in the weekend. Quite a schedule… Six schools in 4 days.
Jackson, Buck, and I were able to check out all the different school that the kids were from. The buildings and classrooms were mostly concrete rooms with no windows and wooden, 3-kids to a wooden desk set ups, with a blackboard that was just painted on the cement wall.
Most of these schools were in desperate need of the basic necessities… latrines, books, supplies, water, sanitary napkins for the teen girls, and a meals program. That is were SCOPE comes in. They are helping each of these schools, (they represent at this point, 42 schools), with self-sustainable projects that will help them meet the needs of their schools. Projects like building libraries, digging wells and harvesting water off the roofs into large gathering containers, creating gardens, and also planting trees, that in 5 to 6 years they can harvest for timber to sell to fund more projects. We were able to participate in a tree planting ceremony, which was a lot of fun. SCOPE’s goal is to have these people, these schools, and these communities, help themselves, and not just rely on gifts and donations.
It was nice to see all our friends from the workshop in their village schools. They all came up to the Jackson, Buck, and I excited to see us again. Buck had the honor of handing out new soccer balls to all of the schools…. So basically he was a major Rock Star!
And the students performed their pieces for their entire schools while we were there…. 200 to 500 kids to a school. It really was powerful to experience. Afterwards, Jackson, Buck and I just ran around with the kids all over the schools playing and laughing.
This is living. This is the real deal. It’s not a shopping spree at the mall, it’s not a bonus at work, or an Emmy Award, or a cocktail party, or a hot date, or a Hawaiian Vacation, or a day at the spa. And I’m not saying those things don’t sound appealing… Jackson, Buck and I are living in the elements. It’s “lowest common denominator” stuff. It’s joy on a level so organic, I find myself wanting to cry a lot. And to scream to the world, “What’s up, people? Wake up! It’s time…. Let’s do something! Let’s do the Dance”…. And then I have to remind myself, that we come to what we come to, when we come to it…. And my experience has me in that mode right now, while others think I’m a bit over zealous. When you see it first hand, it makes it real.
And then the good-byes to my actors, my friends, my buddies, my partners in art….
Oh wait, one last story… When the schools were introducing themselves at the beginning of the workshop, there was a rather tall, quite awkward girl who could hardly muster up the sound when it was time to say her name, let alone look up from the floor. “Ruth”. Ruth wasn’t all that comfortable in her body, but there was something…. I don’t know, just something unique about her. Her soul spoke to me. And I felt led to use her as an example. I said, “Ruth, you are so beautiful, smart and unique… Do you know that?” She looked at the floor. “You know, I’ve worked with a lot of actors in my day, and you have something special…you do. Something cool… And you have an amazing face”. She managed a look up at me for a moment. “I think you are going to go on and do great things in the world. I mean that.” I meant it and still do. And then I said, “Ruth, there’s a lot of power in you. You have to allow yourself to be heard. When you speak up, you give people the Gift…. The gift of you… We get to experience how cool you are…. But when you whisper and look at the floor, you keep it for yourself.” “Ruth, the world needs the gift that you have to offer…. And it’s not doing much good down there on the floor, so next time you have to speak, dig deep, even if you’re a little scared and come up with the gift. Okay?”
She nodded and we moved on… Throughout the workshop, I keep being drawn to her and always made a point to say what great work she was doing and how cool I thought she was. Well, I don’t need to finish the story…. (And yes, that’s a picture of Ruth and I!)
When we visited her at her school, she came right up to me with this real sense of herself. I was floored. She said in a big, bold voice, “Jambo, J.D., This is my school.” It’s like something woke up in her. And maybe I got to be the messenger for that particular “wake-up call”. All I know is that it meant more to me, than to her. Damn it, I made some sort of difference in a small village in the mountains of western Kenya and I’m proud of it.
I give my grandmother credit for my Ruth moment. She used to sit me on her knee when I was little and in the midst of the worst childhood imaginable, she would say, “You are going to go on to do great things in the world. You are!” And heck maybe I am… No, for sure, I am!
After good-byes to our students, our friends from the states, Bo and Ed arrived to meet us here in Kenya. It’s nice to be able to experience some of this first-hand, with people that we love from home. Plus they adore my sons, and quite frankly, after seven straight months on the road with my sons, it’s nice to get a break…
Before heading back to Nairobi, our driver, Sammy, took us on a game drive through the Masai Mara. Amazing! We saw lions, giraffes, gazelles, hippos, warthogs, hyenas, and tons of other animals…. And also just the beauty of the Masai Mara of Kenya that stretches from here to eternity.
I’m currently on a plane to South Africa… It’s late. I’m tired but I’m thankful. Thankful for my kids, my life, the experiences that we are having, the ability to help others, the friends I have and the new ones we are making along this mystical journey, and all the support that you all have given us and our project. Okay, I’m sitting here crying in my aisle seat…luckily it’s a night flight and most everyone’s asleep.
And one last thing I have to mention before I post this. I’m sending all my love to my dear friend, Marc Cittadino, who lost his brother to cancer this week. We love you, Marc and Jenna and we are hurting for you.
All a reminder to live in the moment, each day, each moment. More adventures to follow in South Africa.
by JD | Jan 7, 2012 | Tanzania
Our magical mystery tour continues to take us away!!! I guess I can’t expect anyone to really understand the experience we are having. I’m not sure I understand the impact fully myself. All I know is that it is deep, spiritual, profound and it has changed the lives of The Lewis Boys.
Since our last blog, we had the Art Festival at Creative Solutions, the school where the boys and I have been working in Mangapwani, Zanzibar.
What a great time! Jackson and I were in charge of the children’s games. We filled coke bottles up with sand and had a bean-bag toss to knock them off a pedestal. We also had jam jars that you had to toss bottle caps into to win prizes. The kids loved it.
There was amazing local art, performance and dance, face painting and food. The villagers from all around came from near and far to participate. 
The sense of community was like my memories of summer camp. Lots of interaction, conversation, laughter, games, food, stories and more. And then it was late evening and it was over…. Fun was had by all. We slept well that night under our protective mosquito nets, having eaten our fill and done the dance.
Saying good-bye to my class at Creative Solution was once again excruciating. I had learned to love each and every one of them. We were and are a family. We have shared our life stories with each other, our struggles, our victories, laughed our heads off and, all the while, I did my best to teach them English…. And they in turn, taught me some Swahili.
The warm nights sitting around big wooden tables in open-air huts quizzing my eager pupils on the names of the continents, action verbs, and adjectives will stay in my heart for years to come. And you know what? We never finished class on time…ever. We always ran over and we didn’t want it to end. Most of them lived miles away and would walk home by foot at 11pm at night. I would go to bed exhausted but so incredibly satisfied with a renewed sense of purpose.
I took a day off and went into Stone Town. Mbarouk, our fearless leader, visionary, and man I am happy to call my friend, took me into to town on the back of his scooter. It takes about 1 hour…. On dirt roads through some of the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen. He introduced me to his mother who lives in the center of Stone Town in a small concrete home… though she and I couldn’t speak each other’s language, we “got each other” and she made me laugh and I adored her.
I managed to get a box shipped home and ran a few errands for the school and then went on an adventure through the narrow alleys of historical Stone Town.
It was a hub for the slave trade back in the day and has an “old world” feel. Little carts and tiny shops selling spices, fruits, vegetables, art and souvenirs… All with an ocean breeze and wonderfully kind people smiling and trying to speak English with you.
Jackson misses the ocean…. Jumping off huge rocks into the waves… He misses his nursery school class that each morning pounced on him… and pulled his hair and hugged on him and made him laugh constantly.
And Buck misses the cats, the chickens, the puppies, collecting bottle caps, getting up early and hanging out with his pal, Mbarouk. He misses Marina, Asha, and Margaret and his pal, Kibopa.
We all miss our friend, Kibopa…the coolest guy. He is the main English teacher there, and an artist in his own right, from the mainland of Tanzania. He will be a life-long friend for sure. He took the time with the boys and I to explain so much of the Tanzanian culture to us. He had also lived in America so he was familiar with our world as well. He cooked great french fries from scratch and helped both Jack and Buck with homework. We had the great pleasure of meeting his daughter Marina, as well. She came over from the mainland to hang with her dad and us. She is an amazing artist and a blast to be around.
Also Margaret… the girl with all the joy! The maker of puppets and a great actress who did a performance at the Art Festival that nearly made me wet my pants. Thanks for making every day fun and energetic. We miss you yelling… “J.D….. Jambo… Habari!”. And Asha and Khamis…. We miss you guys too!
And another honorable mention…. One of my favorite students, Mr. Abdollah. What an amazing man. He’s the man who showed up each night most prepared and ready to work. He invited Jack and I to go visit his Bee Farm. We donned our bee outfits and visited the hives in the swampy beach forest. It was remarkable… then a tour of his local school, the beach where he and his family opened fresh coconuts with knives and offered us refreshing coconut milk, and then back to his home where his entire family greeted us with a sit down snack of delicious food laid out traditionally on mats on the floor in their home. So cool.
Thank you, Mr. Abdollah. I was so fortunate to spend time with this man who works so hard in his community to make a difference, runs a large family and still had the time and energy to come to English class a few miles away for his house. You are the best.
Our Zanzibar memories are so embedded deeply in our hearts. Talk about “The Love Revolution”. We couldn’t have been made to feel more welcome. The good news is Creative Solutions, Mbarouk, Kibopa, Marina, Margaret and the rest…. We will all see each other again, that much I know. It is most certainly not our last outing to Zanzibar.
After tearful good byes, we headed to the mainland of Tanzania to spend a few days off for Xmas… just the boys and I. We had originally made a reservation at a hotel on a little island off the coast of Bagamoyo. Imagine our surprise when we arrived to find that they were overbooked and didn’t honor our reservation. And just a day before Christmas. Arghhh… Shame on the Lazy Lagoon!!
But knowing that the North Pole had an eye on us and feeling certain that we were on “The Nice List”, we were lead by the North Star to great accommodation at the Traveler’s Lodge on the beach in Bagamoyo. It ended up being perfect and Santa Claus managed to find us nonetheless.
We went and visited 13th century ruins and walked around Bagamoyo, a little beach village. 
The boys and I met up with some of the local artists in the village and they showed Buck and Jack the ropes of Tanzanian wood carving. Very cool! The Christmas spirit prevailed even though being in a Muslim country, there was little Yule tide décor.
Now we have arrived in Nairobi and have been swept away to Kisii (western Kenya) where we have joined Don Howard of Rotary International to work with students from 8 different schools in the area. But that’s the next blog by week’s end.
Also, next week, we are being visited by our dear friends (more like family, really), Uncle Bo and Uncle Ed. They are coming from Charlotte to meet us here in Nairobi and then we will continue on with them to Cape Town, South Africa to continue our work at an HIV orphanage. Very excited. It will be nice to see some of our local tribesmen and apparently they are bringing us some “western world” supplies…. like Aleve, Clif Bars, etc.
Know that we are safe, missing the homeland, wishing you all a very happy, healthy New Year and we will see you later in 2012! Let the spirit of giving be on your list of New Year’s Resolutions…. Help some one near or far…. There’s a world out here who are in desperate need of a helping hand. Let me know if you need suggestions. I’ve got tons!!!! Love you all.
Oh! Watch out for The Parade Magazine next week, they are doing an article on us in their up-coming issue… and check out our interview on NPR. http://66.225.205.104/CT20111214.mp3 (We are the 2nd half of the show.)
Thank you for all your support! The New Year has amazing things in store! xxjd
by JD | Dec 11, 2011 | Tanzania
White sandy beaches, warm tropical breezes, the sound of rain on tin roofs, bustling markets with the smell of cumin and cinnamon, brilliant colored vegetables and yes, the stench of the fresh catch of the day… wide-open smiles with sparkling white teeth, dark brown skin, the vibrant kangas (the women’s clothing)… then add the sounds of Swahili and laughter in the air… We are indeed in Africa… Zanzibar, to be exact.
This island is famous for being a hub of the Arab slave trade back in the 18th and 19th century and, of course, known worldwide for its spices and beautiful beaches.
The pace is slow. They call it TIA… “This is Africa”. And they have a phrase called, “ Pole Pole” (pronounced Paulie, Paulie), meaning “slowly, slowly”. Not an easy task for a westerner who has been taught that faster and more efficient is better. But I am learning.
The boys and I have arrived on this lush oasis off the coast of mainland Tanzania in east Africa. We were welcomed with open arms by Creative Solutions, an art school in the small village of Mangapwani built by Aida Ayers and Mbarouk Saad. Here, children and adults are offered all kinds of educational opportunities. I am currently teaching English in an open-air classroom, and Jackson and Buck are helping run the pre-school group. The kids are so angelic, creative, available and joyful.
Currently, we are preparing for an art fair on the 17th of December, which will bring the locals together to sell their wares and share their art.
Our work here is especially gratifying, as each student is sincerely eager to learn. To master English here on Zanzibar is to open up a multitude of life possibilities and opportunities. Farming and the tourist trade are two of the major industries here, and English is essential for the success in either field. All of my students (10 to 30), depending on the day, have managed to steal my heart. We talk in broken English and they try to teach me Swahili…they fascinate me. We talk about farming, how they hook up their ox to their carts, raising goats, how they pick the Jack Fruit off the trees… We talk about futbol, and music ( one’s favorite called “Bongo Favor”)…and we drink Coca-Cola, Orange Fanta and Stoney Tangawizi (my new favorite – it tastes like spicy Ginger Ale)…. And the best part is we laugh our heads off.
This small village offers little opportunity other than farming, but the locals do their best to eek out a living. To have some land and an ox, cow, goat or chickens is to live well. Again the thing that strikes me most, is the joy in which they live.
Creative Solutions is a vital part of Mangapwani, offering a haven for those who want to improve their lives. With a small staff of teachers and helpers, this place is making a huge difference. They function on a very small budget but they are certainly not compromising on the education they are providing. Twelve In Twelve is committed to help this school. Anyone interested in organizing simple books for their library or even pencils, pens and paper or composition books, please let me know. They are functioning with the bare necessities and need help in every area, whether supplies, monetary donations, and/or volunteers. They have plans to expand the facility by adding a second classroom. Currently the adult classes and children’s classes are held under the same roof.
On our down time, the boys and I head down the road to the beach. Not your average beach. I know I am prone to painting extravagant visuals, but this beach is picture postcard perfect. White sand, turquoise blue water, seashells still in tact, sand crabs scurrying sideways and deep blue skies with billowing clouds. Words don’t do it justice. Just know that when we are there, the boys and I look at each other with this grin of “Holy Cow!”. Sometimes we will be walking down the road in this euphoric tropical setting and Jackson will look just look at me and say, “Dad…. We are on Zanzibar in East Africa”. And we will all three just get it!
Last weekend we went into Stone Town. Jackson, Buck and I took a Dolla-Dolla. That’s a sort of bus/taxi that is filled to the brim with people. There were so many people crammed in that little bus that eight people were hanging on the outside of it, Jackson being one of them. It was a crazy adventure. Buck and I managed to get to a seat inside peering across at men, women and children staring and smiling at us. A beautiful feeling… boiling hot, but beautiful, nonetheless.
We are on the journey of a lifetime. And the good news is we know it. The people we have met, the sights we have seen, the experiences we have shared together… it has all been extraordinary and life altering. And not just the pleasant parts either. We have been given the opportunity to experience the poverty, the need, the less fortunate, those just trying to survive… the hungry, the sick, the poor, the crippled, the lepers and the orphaned. This is a sacred journey that will stay with us forever. When I say that we will never be the same, it sounds trite. But I feel it and I know my sons do too. The world is a big place full of different cultures and customs… But we are members of the human race with hearts, with pain, with joy, with needs, with hope, with the will to survive. We are all in this together. I hope that our volunteering in each of these places so far has been of some help. I think it has… and there is so much more to do.
Until soon….
by JD | Dec 3, 2011 | Rwanda
The boys and I have had the most extraordinary experience in Rwanda. We wrote a one-act play about the First High School of Performing Arts in Rwanda with the teens from The Agahozo-Shalom Youth Village. With traditional music and dance, we wove in some hip-hop and modern music and spoken word. We performed it in the Amphitheater in the village. It was amazing. They tore it up!!!! So exciting to watch. Every last one of them (20 actors in all) blew my mind. So gratifying for all of us. We wrote the piece from scratch with the ideas of these students. Every subject from Love, Friendship, Betrayal, Conflict, The Genocide, Discipline, and Passion. My dear friends Medea and Longine saw to our every need and we miss them terribly. I’m hoping to have Medea come to Charlotte to do a Rwandan Dance and Singing workshop at NorthWest School of The Arts next year. I think the kids would benefit from her talent and her story… she was a survivor of the Genocide.
Once more the hardest part is saying goodbye. These teens have been our family for the last 3 weeks. Each one of them has made a difference in our life, truly. After the show we had a “get together” and they all shared what they had learn from the experience. It reminded me why I’m an artist. They said that they learned passion was an important part of life, that speaking up and being heard is giving a gift, that discipline is important in the process, and that love and acceptance is the answer. Wow! Nearly bawled my eyes out. These kids are the future leaders of Rwanda… remarkable spirits.
So once again, we packed our bags. We headed to a school in the north of Rwanda called, “Mwiko”. This particular school has no running water or electricity. With the help of Francis and Danny, our incredible hosts, we had a remarkable time in the town of Musanze. Each morning we headed to Mwiko Primary School, set on a mountain top between two pristine lakes… Gorgeous!
But even more gorgeous, were the kids… I can’t describe the joy and wide open spirits of these kids. Shy at first, they each unfolded before us to allow us into their amazing world. These kids live with the bare necessities, but have taught us a substantial lesson…. that happiness cannot be bought. They LIVE joy. They are all in need of scholarships to go to secondary school. For $2,000 a year, you can help a child get an education in Rwanda that will change the course of their lives. Twelve In Twelve is committed to help in that department. If it sounds of interest, please let me know. Needs are great….
The kids of Mwiko and I shot a movie together… they were able to shoot with my camera and we came up with something we were all proud of…. I will post it shortly.
Thank you also to Mothering Across Continents (www.motheringacrosscontinents.org), who helped us arrange our visit to Mwiko. They are doing wonderful things for the school there. We also had the great pleasure of meeting a man named Tom Allen, who has an organization called, “Bridge2Rwanda”. He’s an American here in Rwanda, who has been instrumental in the development of many programs here in Rwanda. Please check out their website (www.bridge2rwanda.org).
And if all that wasn’t enough, we had the opportunity of spending time with Dr. Jan, the gorilla doctor! She was awesome! She shared with us many fascinating stories and insights into the world of the Rwandan Mountain Gorillas. And then… I was able to go on a GORILLA TREK! Yep… right up close… they brushed up against me!!! Wild! And yes, I took this picture and this Silver Back was right in front of me, checking me out. The boys were too young and they have strict rules for visiting the gorillas… so I owe the boys a gorilla trek…
After sadly leaving Musanze, we returned to Kigali to lead a two day workshop for WeACTx… a program for kids living with HIV. We played games and did Improv…. danced, sang… laughed.. Thanks to Noam for all her help and inviting us to have such a meaningful experience with these beautiful kids. They taught the kids and I songs, dance steps… but the most important lesson they taught was courage…
And if that wasn’t enough of an experience in Rwanda, the icing on the cake was getting to meet His Excellency, Ambassador Koran. We were guests at the U.S. Embassy in Kigali and sat and chatted with the charismatic Ambassador Koran. Many thanks to Susan Falatko, Public Relations Officer, who made it all possible.
The smell, the earth, the sunshine, the tropical rain, the people, the warmth and the children will stay etched in our memory for eternity. Rwanda is a special place that I know we will return to…. Getting on the plane now to Tanzania is bittersweet. We have heard great things about Zanzibar … that’s where we are headed to work at an Art School in a little town called Mangapwani. More to follow:
by JD | Nov 12, 2011 | Rwanda
Our stop-over in Egypt was beyond our wildest dreams. To stand before the Great Pyramids of Giza and the mighty Sphinx was a childhood dream of mine. And Buck got to see it all on his 9th birthday. 
There are no words that can describe the grandeur of the pyramids and to think, they were built by hand. Amazing! Going inside the Pyramids was something that Jack and Buck were excited about.
Claustrophobia is alive and well in Giza, Egypt. Holy Cow! 
The tunnel into the center of the pyramid is a crawl space at best, and the air gets thicker and thicker as you arrive at the burial chamber in the center…the size of a walk-in closet. Yikes! With my heart pounding in my ears and having a full-on anxiety attack, I managed to celebrate Buck’s 9th, center pyramid. Talk about a quantum leap for me in the department of phobias.
Because of the revolution and political upheaval in Cairo, the tourist trade is way down… Way Down. And you can feel it in the desperation of the vendors. The people selling souvenirs around the pyramids and the guys hawking camel rides are desperate for your business and it’s a bit intimidating. “No Thank You” does not seem to make an impact. It was non-stop and the boys and I felt overwhelmed at times, but certainly felt for them. After the Elephant Nature Park, we had no desire to ride a camel.
On our flight from Egypt to Rwanda… get this…. Buck got to fly in the cockpit with the pilots for the entire flight. No lie. The pilots were American and said they would be happy to have an additional Captain. Can you believe it? That would never happen EVER in the states! Buck got to experience take-off and landing from the jump seat in the cockpit. Jackson and I were incredibly jealous.
And now we are in Rwanda. We arrived on a night flight but instantly noticed two things in Kigali (pronounced CHI-gali). First the streets are spotless, not one piece of trash to be found, which was refreshing after India. The second was the smell, best describe as the “Sweet Scent of Earth” – Red clay earth… Incredible! You can’t help but feel the connection to the land… and yes, the ghost of the genocide still lingers. That horrible event that claimed nearly a million lives.
We arrived at the Agahozo-Shalom Youth Village late that night and were shown to our room. This is a school built for the children who were orphaned during the Genocide here in Rwanda.
We woke up the next day to the sight of deep-green rolling hills with patchwork fields as far as the eye could see…. And the clouds, whiter than white… the kind you can see animals and angels in.
We had arrived in the REAL Africa. The breeze, the smell, the view, the people. Yes, woman dressed in traditional, colorful dresses with pots, bags, twigs, bundles balanced on their heads. The kids and I laugh and say, “Do you think they do that for our benefit, or is it actually something they do when we are not around?” Our friends here at ASYV assure us that they do it all the time.
The teens here were shy with us at first. And we were a bit shy as well. Ends up that they speak English beautifully and they are the greatest. They are all teens up to 21 or so. We are working with a group of 20 students writing a one-act play about the first High School of Performing Arts in Rwanda… which, by the way, does not exist. Sounds like it might be a calling…
The show is going great. We have intertwined the traditional music and dance with some of the interests of the students… like hip-hop, romance, and humor. We will perform it the night before we leave.
The boys and I have also been invited to meet the U.S. Ambassador to Rwanda, His Excellency, Donald W. Koran. What an incredible honor. More to follow, as Rwanda unfolds before our very eyes.
by JD | Oct 25, 2011 | India
Leave it to the boys and me to find the one Tibetan Buddhist Monastery that has been ostracized by His Holiness, The Dalai Lama. It really is a compelling story for all you who think Buddhism is about chanting, meditating, and living a life of compassion.
When we arrived here at Shar Gaden, one of the first things Jampa, the charismatic secretary of the monastery said to me was, “We are having some issues with the Dalai Lama”. I was taken back, as I was under the impression that His Holiness was the Kingpin of Buddhism.
Apparently a number of years ago, the Dalai Lama asked all of his monasteries to quit practicing a certain meditation called Dorje Shugden. My understanding is that the Dalai Lama’s oracle, or guidance counselor, suggested to the His Holiness that they stop doing this particular practice. Because Dorje Shugden has been perceived by some as more of the “fire and brimstone” approach to Buddhism, His Holiness decided to give it the ax. It probably doesn’t help matters that the deity they propitiate is a scary looking figure with three eyes, a human heart in his one hand, a sword in the other, and a wrathful look on his face. Perhaps the Dalai Lama thought this menacing figure might scare some westerners away. Therefore, he required all the monks of the Tibetan monasteries to sign a pledge that they would no longer participate in this very old Tibetan ritual.
Here’s where the Bad Boys of Buddhism, my friends and monks of The Shar Gaden monastery, come in. It seems that the senior monks of Shar Gaden felt like discontinuing this practice was not in the best interest of their lineage.
They refused to sign the agreement… and apparently all hell broke lose. Many followers of the Dalai Lama became enraged with the Dorje Shugden followers. At one point when one of the Dalai Lama’s people was murdered, they blamed it on the group that chose not to sign the paper.
Cut to years later… In this isolated area of south-central India where an entire community of monks live, there is a great divide. As I walk down the street with my friend, Losang Tenpa, or as the boys and I call him, Monk Duke, he is glared at and in certain shops, they even refuse to serve him.
Monk Duke is a character. He’s from Minnesota and has been a practicing Buddhist for the last fifteen years. He has recently committed his life to the “monkhood”. He is the perfect poster child for the Bad Boys of Buddhism. He’s a sort of James Dean of the Red Robes. Rugged, with a past of drugs, alcohol and near death experiences… and I quote, “I have had a pretty crazy past.” Now he is a full-fledged member of Shar Gaden and the face of Western Buddhism in a sea of Tibetan and Nepalese monks. He holds his head high when he goes into town, even though he knows that many are scrutinizing him. He chose to side with the Shar Gaden lineage because his teacher, Geshe Tsultrim Gyaltsen, was determined to keep the Dorje Shugen practice alive. Monk Duke said that, “I have chosen to follow the teacher I have worked with for years. I have taken vows and commitments with this teacher, and my alliance is with him.”
The whole thing is shocking to me… My idea of Buddhism was about losing the ego, getting centered and quiet, and finding enlightenment. But it seems that things are a bit tense here in this area that was given to exiled Tibetan monks by the country of India. Over the last few years, words have been spoken, rocks have been thrown and most disturbing, great walls built around each of the many monasteries in the area. What’s wild is that, after the split, the properties here were allotted in a strange way so that some of Shar Gaden’s building are surrounding by building gained by the other monasteries that have issue with this group, making it an uncomfortable and tense living situation.
As an experiment the other day, Monk Duke and I visited a local store famous for not serving Shar Gaden monks. I went in and smiled, bought some flip flops for Buck, and then Duke came in to buy some incense. They wouldn’t even look up at him. So I piped in, “Hey, how much for the incense?” … they replied, “Forty Rupies”, and then I said, “I’ll pay for it.” They then smiled, took my money and when we went to leave, the man behind the counter and Monk Duke exchanged a smile. I felt like it was one step closer to Nirvana and I had done my small part to bridge a chasm between the two factions. Who knows… that simple meeting of the minds could have been the beginning of the reunification of the Tibetan Buddhist Federation. Or maybe not… I think it’s going to take more than a westerner’s smile to sort things out here. I’m thinking of coming back next year and shooting a documentary on the subject.
None of the controversy seems to have affected Jackson or Buck’s experience of this place. Buck instantly joined in on a game of Futbol with the younger monks. Kunga, one of the senior monks and a great character, took a liking to Buck and presented him with his own red robes. Yes, Buck spent his entire time dressed as a monk and sitting in on the meditations. He really took to it. He learned how to fold and wear the robes and also how to recite some of the mantras. Monk Duke even presented Buck with his own prayer beads, which he proudly wears to remind himself of his time at Shar Gaden. What an amazing experience for an 8 year old boy, eh?
Jackson jumped right in helping out with Monk Duke’s English classes. They all laugh when they hear his name because of Michael Jackson. These young monks can play a mean game of English language hang-man. And here’s some refreshing news, when we were practicing conversational English with them, we discovered that none of them knew who Lady Gaga was. How refreshing is that!
Our experience here has been eye-opening and truly delightful. We have made some great friends, had the opportunity to live with the monks and see their lives first hand, and have been able to discovery the beauty of monastic living. If the Dalai Lama spent some time with Monk Duke, Jampa, and Kunga, I’m sure they all could resolve this issue with compassion and loving-kindness.
If you are interested in knowing more about the Monks of Shar Gaden Monastery, check them out on FaceBook. They are in need of dedicated Pen Pals for the younger monks to practice their English with, and also English language books. Please let me know if you are interested in helping them.
by JD | Oct 12, 2011 | India
I have difficulty beginning this blog because I’m not sure how to approach it. I don’t want to appear melodramatic or better yet, over sensationalize my experience. But the truth is, being in India has truly changed my boys and my life. A bold statement… Yes. A truth, that is for certain.
We arrived at the foothills of the Himalayas in the small village of McLeod Ganj, known the world over as the exiled home of His Holiness, The 14th Dalai Lama. Entering the town by dark was a frightful experience… just ask my sons. We had booked a small room in a hotel high above the town with roads only big enough for the four wheels of the car that carried us up there. I want to be very clear… the roads, cut into the side of the mountain, were barely big enough for the four wheels of the car that carried us… one wrong twist of the wheel and we would have fallen to a sure death down a jagged mountain cliff.
We arrived at 3am to what would be our new home for the next 10 days. We unloaded our bags and then walked, yes, walked for ten minutes up a mountain cliff path to our hill top inn. From the late-night fright of cliff hanging, and from the exhaustion of toting our bags through the mountains in the dark, we settled in and fell fast asleep in our small one room abode.
We awoke to sunshine through the window and a view that reminded us that this was no ordinary journey. I can only explain it as “other worldly”, like we had experienced it before, or that we were in another time continuum. The kids and I looked at each other in awe. There was silence… emotion… history… color… magic.
We were served the local staple, porridge with bananas, and then headed down the hill to the village of McLeod to register to see the Dalai Lama speak. The mountain path down was no “late night illusion”…. It was just as frightening in the daytime. But with the sunlight came wild monkeys on the side of the road, the sacred cows of India, the colorful saris of the local woman, and as we approached the hustle and bustle of this small town, the red-robed Buddhist monks of Tibetan fame. I felt like I was home. Not that I am a Tibetan Buddhist, or have practiced Buddhism, but I felt safe and comfortable amongst, what I joked with Jack and Buck, “My People”.
That day was spent with great excitement. Dodging Tuk Tuk’s, cows, monks and an international crowd of people there to see The Dalai Lama speak… all in a tiny village stuck in another time, hanging off the foothills of the Himalayas.
The following morning, after our porridge, we headed to the temple to see His Holiness. Miraculously, though somehow I knew it would happen, we were saved seats 20 feet away from where the Dalai Lama would speak. Excitement filled the air. After what seems like a long anticipated wait, he appeared. Wow! His Holiness, The Dalai Lama’s smiling face right in front of me, as if in my own living room. There for my kids to experience, a living master, right there for Buck and Jackson to remember for a lifetime.
As he began to speak, something struck me. He’s just a man… yes, most assuredly an enlightened one, but a man, nonetheless. Having spent a career studying “celebrity” first hand, I had the epiphany that he was a sort of spiritual celebrity in a world of people who felt the need to worship him. Don’t get me wrong, he’s teaching were certainly inspiring and profound, but I wasn’t overwhelmed by a sense of spirit. Many others were. And then this thought, “Maybe we’re all the gurus”. Maybe, just maybe, we are all made in the likeness of God and that we are all the Dalai Lamas of our own experience… That all we really have is our own spiritual take on things. Everyone gets their choice of what they want to believe and whom they want to worship… at least in the free world. And what resonates in our heart to be true spiritually is what we have to hold on to.
I feel like I had a spiritual awakening in McLeod Ganj. But not one that was overpowering… a more subtle one. I think it made me want to take more responsibility for my own spirituality and to honor it … and perhaps to live more consciously… not in the way His Holiness sees it, necessarily, though a lot of what he had to say rang true to me, but maybe delving more inside myself and finding how “my” God wants me to live… being a more present parent, being less judgmental, more understanding and accepting, doing more for my fellow man.
Walking among the sacred cows, the poverty, the lepers, the poor, the monks, and the monkeys had a deep effect on me. And it did for my children as well. We had the incredible opportunity of working with political prisoner that are now refugees exiled from Tibet in McLeod. We taught English to these men and women who walked from Tibet to India to gain their freedom. One cannot remain the same when in the company of such brave and heroic figures. They shared with the kids and me their stories of being imprisoned just for carrying a Tibetan flag or showing up at a rally. They were beaten and imprisons for years. For westerns like the kids and me, it almost seemed unreal… Like it was just a story… But unfortunately, it’s a reality for many Tibetans.
One evening in McLeod, in honor of those we had been teaching, the boys and I got “buzz cuts” like the monks. It was a Lewis Family moment… with laughter, trepidation, and “are we really doing this?”… But then again it’s only hair…
The boys most certainly are different people now. For Jackson, 14, it has been the most noticeable. He has committed to being a vegetarian, which I have to say, I respect. He has become such a quiet force of compassion among the people we have met. And with the animals, too. We joke that he is Dr. Doolittle. It’s amazing to watch him.
Buck, “Mister Charismatic”, has gone in to action full tilt boogie and has people grabbing him for pictures, hugging on him and practicing their English on him. In McLeod, at a café we frequented, he got hired to be a waiter. No lie. He made cappachinos and served food and actually made tips. It was a riot to watch. He went back each day to work. He had a gang of friends at Café Buda. All of the customers were blown away.
Leaving McLeod was intense for all of us. It was like leaving summer camp as a kid. We had met so many awesome people and saying good-bye left a huge hole. We ended up taking the train – un-air conditioned and 3rd class (yikes… talk about intense) to Agra where we feasted our eyes on the Taj Mahal. I can’t put it in to words. I just can’t. Beyond extraordinary. Again, seeing my kids inside the Taj. Wow! And we had no idea the story behind the Taj Mahal. It was built as a monument of love for a wife who died while giving birth.
From there we went to Varanasi on the shores of the Ganges. This is the place where all Hindis go to swim in the sacred waters of this famous river. It is also were the Burning Gat is … this is where the Indians bring their dead to wash in the river, then burn the corpse on a fire by the shore, then spread their ashes in the river. It’s their belief that it is the quickest way to heaven…. To be burned on the Ganges. We took a boat (wood canoe) past the Burning Gat… and saw the bodies being wash and burned. It was mind-blowing. The boys and I discussed it later… it wasn’t morbid or scary… it was just very deep.
Which leads us to the poverty of Varanasi. Unless you have walked the streets and seen it first hand, I don’t think you can fully grasp it. Children naked and playing in the dirt, lepers laying in the street, families living in tiny tin or brick huts, cow dung everywhere, and the smell… quite often overwhelming. But here’s the twist, they seem happy. They really do. The kids are laughing, the old people have great smiles, the woman are beautiful…. 
Yes, there is a lot of begging… a lot, but it’s understandable. A foreigner walking down the street is just assumed to be rich… Sometimes it felt intimidating and a bit dangerous, but in the end no one wished us harm. They were just as curious about us, as we were with them.
Now we are headed to Mumbai where we will take a 12-hour bus ride to Hubli to work in a monastery. More enlightenment to follow…
We have arrived in Sydney, Australia to an aerial tour of The Sydney Opera House, The Harbour Bridge and the stunning picturesque views of the coast, hosted by The Royal Flying Doctors!
The Royal Flying Doctors (RFDS) is an amazing organization that has been doing great things in Australia since 1928.
Founded by Reverend John Flynn, RFDS is one of the largest and most comprehensive aeromedical organizations in the world. It delivers 24-hour Emergency Services to people in the most remote areas of Australia. In addition, it supplies primary health care throughout Australia. With a fleet of 61 aircraft operating from 21 bases across Australia, it provides medical assistance to over 278,000 people a year. Their motto is “No patient is more than two hours away from help!”. And that is saying alot, considering Australia is so huge and soooo spread out.
We are working for the South Eastern Section of RFDS. They have welcomed us to their offices here in Sydney, where the boys and I have been volunteering: folding mailings, assembling model airplanes and setting up fundraising efforts. We leave shortly for their main base in Broken Hill, the capital of “The Outback”! We will take the Indian Pacific over-night train, where we will be volunteering as porters to raise money for RFDS. Then off to Broken HIll, where it is apparently quite warm and teeming with kangaroos and snakes… and filled with friendly, local Australians. We will be volunteering in the Visitors Center there and working directly with the doctors, nurses, and emergency staff, documenting their heroic efforts. We have been invited to fly with them to remote areas, where they continue to administer emergency care and also set up various clinics to serve the outback.
Our itinerary includes: working with the staff at the main office, visiting the local university, the Maari Ma (an Aboriginal community health organization) and a tour of Broken Hill. We will visit various remote stations like Langawirra and Tibooburra, and will be introduced to School of The Air. This school was established in 1956 and now caters predominately to the geographically isolated students within a radius of approximately 300km from Broken Hill. In addition, we will see the White Cliffs, visit the White Opal Fields and actually stay at an underground motel.
But the highlight other than meeting the great staff at RFDS in Sydney, was our flight around Sydney with our pilot, Ryan, who is an amazing pilot, teacher (he let me fly part of the time), and great tour guide from the air.
In addition, the boys and I each “had a go” at the flight simulator on the ground in the hangar.
Thanks to all the marketing staff at The Royal Flying Doctors including Jane, Michelle, Jonathan, Nick, Nicole, Danielle, Rachel, Sun, Kate, and Todd. Also Simon, David, and Ryan at Basair Aviation College!
What a great adventure in the Land Down Under. The Lewis boys are a lucky bunch of blokes.
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