Friday, November 29, 2013

Missing


I have never really been much of a beach person, but on our brief stint on the Gold Coast earlier this year, it became one of our favourite spots to visit.


Especially at sunset.

The soft light lingering in the sky before twilight turns to dusk and darkness settles in.  



 
 



Besides the people that I love back in the land of Oz, right now I am missing this beautiful place! 

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Where your Heart Is


A few months ago, I went for the first time with a group of women into what is known as a trash picker community to help with a preschool class for the children that live there. I've seen small clips of communities like this in the Philippines and on a much larger scale, I've seen pictures of trash city in Cairo, but to walk into one myself, to watch toddlers play in and around bags and bags of repugnant rubbish is an eye opening experience to say the least.

 

On arrival, we walked through the small kampung (village) and smiled and greeted everyone we saw. Salamat Pagi. Apa kabar? The answer is always, Pagi. Baik. Good Morning. How are you? Morning. I'm fine.

Similar to other experiences I have now had, I mask how I really feel by my surroundings and interact with the people and the environment without hesitation. While my natural instincts tell me to grab the children away from the rubbish and to cover my senses from absorbing the smell and the smoke from burning rubbish, this is the life the people here live everyday. And they smile and welcome us into it.


We made our way to the back of the village to a large dilapidated undercover area. The floor is the earth with remnants of rubbish embedded into it. A large blue tarp is rolled out to cover the dirt and with that, our classroom, and the reason we have come is ready.

There were about 30 children there. We sang songs and played games. We hand out laminated cards that have the alphabet and numbers on them and the children practice writing. We count to 10 and sing the alphabet. I learn that the children have only been writing for a couple of months and I am amazed at how well some of them do. All they needed was the opportunity.

Two of the little boys I was sitting with share a sock which acts as a rubber for the laminated page. When one of the boys takes the sock off the other, instead of fighting, they laugh a little and squish in closer and use one end each. My heart smiles at their kindness and their innocence. There is no entitlement found here.

I sit with one little girl and almost squeeze her, multiple times. I guess she is somewhere between two and three, but she looks more like she's about 18months. We play a game and she throws her head back in adorable giggles every time she 'wins'. She rests her little hand on my leg and moves in closer to me. Squeeze!

We sing London bridge and have the children run through the tunnel (adults holding hands arched above the children). At one point we put our arms down and trap the children and their squeals of delight are musical. It is a crystal clear moment and I am hyper aware of the fact that all children are really the same. They delight in love and attention from adults that care for them, and thrive in that environment. The only real differences between these children and my own, are the opportunities given them.  


Despite their surroundings, they run around and play. Seemingly happy in their environment. They know nothing else.

On the way home I sit in my car and try to process the life these little children are growing up in. Some of them will go to school. At least for a while. But what does the future hold for them? For their children? There are good things happening in this community, but I imagine that for many of the children there, life may remain the same for a long, long time.

And with that, I commit to going back every week and seeing their little faces again.







Friday, October 11, 2013

Half the Sky


In general, my blog is not a platform for which I share political views, global issues, or controversial articles and ideas that may or may not interest me. It is generally a happy place where I share thoughts and pictures, bits and pieces of life as we live it.

But deep down, whether people talk about issues that affect them or not, I believe we all have things we are deeply passionate about. For me, one of those issues is the mistreatment of girls and women around our globe. To be clear, I'm not talking about cultural differences and misunderstandings (or ignorance for that matter). I'm talking about the horrific way millions of girls and women live every.single.day of their lives. Something that most of us reading this, will never truly comprehend.

About 6 months ago, my sister'n'law Leah, recommended I read the book, "Half the Sky, How to Change the World" by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. Since devouring the book, much of my thoughts have been consumed with the contents of its pages and I believe that everyone, Everyone, should read this book. It's not an easy book to read at times, but the old adage "Education is the key to change" rings true through each of its pages. If we aren't aware of the issues out there, how can we be apart of the movement that causes change?


Today is International Day of the Girl Child and in honor of that, I would like to share with you a book review of Half the Sky written by Leah. Leah is a brilliant writer and activist in her own right and I am thrilled that she has written a review of this eye opening, inspiring book for us to read here!


                                                             ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the nineteenth century, the central moral challenge was slavery. In the twentieth century, it was the battle against totalitarianism. We believe that in this century the paramount moral challenge will be the struggle for gender equality around the world.” 

― Nicholas D. Kristof, Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide.


After reading Half the Sky I am convinced that husband and wife writers Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn are correct: the central struggle of this century is for greater gender equality. There is something truly broken in our society, and unfortunately women and girls are bearing the brunt of this brokenness. Here are a few facts from the book. When you read them, really think about these numbers:
 
* In many communities around the world, girls are seen as less valuable than boys. As a result, an
   estimated 60 million girls are “missing” from various populations due to the selective abortion of
   female fetuses and the mistreatment and neglect of female children.
* The typical age of entry into prostitution is 13 to 14 and almost 33% of women got started in
   prostitution through family members or friends.
* 90% of girls and women over the age of three were sexually abused in parts of Liberia during the
   civil war.
* In the United States, a woman is abused, usually by her husband or partner, every 15 seconds and
   is raped every 90 seconds.
* One year of female schooling reduces fertility by 10 percent and a child born to a woman who can
   read is 50% more likely to survive past age 5.
* More than one million children are left motherless every year due to their mother’s death and these
   children are 3 to 10 times more likely to die within two years.
* Up to 2 million women in the world are currently living with fistulas. This number grows every
   year by up to 50,000 cases.
* Approximately 70 percent of the world’s poor are women and girls; women earn less than 10% of
   the world’s wages but do more than two-thirds of the world’s work.

So yes. This book is about horrific things. It is about rape. It is about sexual slavery. It is about honor killings. It is about female genital mutilation and maternal mortality. It is about economic inequality and the need for more education. But this book is also so much more. In dealing with these heavy issues, it is clear that Kristof and WuDunn spent just as much time on the research as they did thinking about how to present the information and stories that they found.

The result is something truly special. Instead of presenting piles of data and numbers, because, as they say, “even when numbers are persuasive, they are not galvanizing,” the authors take the time to spotlight the lives and experiences of women around the world. To be sure, some of these stories are hard to read. You’ll be introduced to the story of a young Cambodian, Srey Rath, who went to Thailand to work, was forced into prostitution and traded to Malaysia, succeeded in escaping, was imprisoned under Malaysian anti-immigration law and released after a year only to be sold by the police to a trafficker who sold her on to a brothel in Thailand. Heavy? Yes. Important? Also yes.

But it doesn’t stop there. This isn’t just a book about the mistreatment of women and suffering and everything that is wrong with the world. It is a story of hope. It is a story of unbelievable courage, of women who are already working tirelessly to help the women around them.

Remember Srey Rath? Eventually she escaped from her brothel and built a thriving retail business that now supports her family. You’ll learn about an Ethiopian woman with life-threatening maternal injuries that received help just in time and went on to become a surgeon. You’ll hear about a Zimbabwean mother of five who earned her doctorate and became an expert on AIDS. And you’ll also be exposed to important initiatives occurring all across the globe that actively provide help and assistance to women: women like Edna Adan, who invested everything she had into building a hospital in Somaliland – a country with one of the highest maternal and infant mortality rates in the world. And women like Urmi Basu, who founded a school to protect and educate girls in a high-risk red light district in Kolkata, India. These women are the heroes of the book and they are the heart and soul of Kristof and WuDunn’s message.

In the Western world many of the problems discussed in this book can seem so far away. So removed. And they might be. But I challenge you to read this book and walk away without feeling like we as a society, we as the privileged, have a responsibility to do more for our sisters that hold up half the sky.

The unfortunate reality is that women’s issues are marginalized, and any case of sex trafficking and mass rape should no more be seen as women’s issues than slavery was a black issue or the Holocaust was a Jewish issue. These are all humanitarian concerns, transcending any one race, gender, or creed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


I know in reality that many people may not want to read about such horrors. These kind of global issues are somewhat peripheral, and that's comfortable for many people. But for the sake of the women and girls around our globe that often don't have a voice, please read this book, and allow yourself to be moved to action.


To purchase a copy of this most important book go HERE! Best $14 you could possibly spend.


ps) To read more of Leah's writing or to follow her around the world, you can read her travel blogs here and here.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Everyday View


Young passenger


Kampung kids


Story teller


Black and White


Life


Beauty


Wise Old Soul


Friday, September 20, 2013

One Mumma to Another!



We were driving home in a taxi and were slowing to a stop at a set of lights.

We had been in Jakarta for almost 7 days and our 'security briefing' was still fresh in my mind, "Please, please DO NOT give anyone (beggars) money".

A women approached our taxi. She was baby wearing with a sling wrapped around her body. She stopped outside my window where I sat with 3 of my children squashed in around me. The women looked directly into my eyes. One mumma to another. She motioned towards her baby.  Please help me her eyes pleaded.

My children watched her, Initially not understanding what she wanted. I started to internally panic. The words "do not give anyone money" swirled around in my head. But here was this woman. A mother. Just like me. Only so different and living a life that I can't comprehend. Even when it's staring me in the face.

Her gaze bore down on me heavily. Especially on my 'mother heart'. How can I ignore this woman? What purpose will that achieve? What message will I teach my children about humanity? About helping others?

My children kept staring.

I rationalised. Giving away money is not the answer. There are other ways we will help. How can I sit here with my children and give nothing to this woman? Her sleeping baby. My mind raced back and forth. Confused with logic and the reality in front of me.

The light turned green and we drove away. I watched as the women and her sleeping child disappeared into the sea of traffic that consumed them.

It took everything in me not to sob. We were on our way home from church. The irony was painful. 

The longer I am here, the more I understand on a practical level, why we are asked not to give money. But I am also learning, that doing what feels right is so much more important than being practical, and there is always room for exceptions.

One of those exceptions is on Sunday afternoon on our way home from church, when a Mother who is now familiar to us approaches our car and looks directly at me. One mumma to another.

Friday, September 13, 2013

Changes changes everywhere....


Her first day of Pre-school!



By  far, the person in our family that has struggled with the adjustment of life away from OZ (and her Grandma) has been this little lady. 

I could share SO many stories about the ridiculous situations I have been in with this girl since we arrived here in Jakarta. As a very small sampling of the shenanigans, Imagine this:

Child running away from park. Mother chasing child. Child stripping while running ridiculously fast. Child throwing clothes AND nappy in all directions (she had a big head start). Naked child jumping in to unfenced pool followed by fully dressed mother jumping in to pool to get child. {I thought about stripping too, but there were too many of our lovely new neighbours watching}. "Hi, we're the new family.....yes, we're from Australia......maybe we can chat later....when my child is not naked and I'm not all wet....". :)!


Anyway, the shenanigans are not really what this post is about, even though they seem to rule my life at the moment :)!

{trying to get a photo of her uniform....why do I try to get posed shots?}

What this post is really about is that my baby started Pre-school! I was hoping to send her one day a week, but the 'Tiger Mothers' of South East Asia will have no such thing! Most of the pre-schools I looked at only offer the option of 5 hours a day, 5 days a week (Almost the same as full time school in Australia!)

But in the end we found a little school that does a few hours in the morning and while we still have to pay for 5 days a week, the school is fine if I don't send her everyday (unlike other universities pre-schools we looked at which said she MUST attend everyday otherwise she would "fall behind"......umm, she's 3!)  


I am thrilled {and surprised} that she is not crying when I drop her off. A couple of other schools we checked out, she screamed the house down like you wouldn't believe. So it's a good sign that she's happy to go and happy when I pick her up.

Signing herself in.....with a selection of animal stamps


And the funniest thing - when she came home last Friday, she had a homework folder complete with homework inside! The other kids thought it was hilarious! Jasmin couldn't believe that her 3 year old sister has homework before she does!


Tuesday, August 13, 2013

A New Life - Part I

 
**It's 9:30pm. I sit here now and the call to prayer echoes around me. It is a beautiful sound that takes me back so fondly to our trip in the Middle East. Even though our time was only short there, the familiarity of the sound is both comforting and feels like home.

The journey thus far has been incredible {and hard at times too}. Not hard in an adjusting sense. Throw me into a new situation any day, especially if it means I can travel somewhere new.

I take in everything around me as much as I can with little ones that need me, and I'm still yet to capture on 'film' (I know it's not really film :) the sites and scenes that have become my life. The traffic. The smells. The sounds. The people. Oh the people. Incredible (and so fascinating!)

If I listen beyond the call of prayer, I hear the never ending sound of motorbikes busying by. If you know anything about Jakarta, you know the traffic is full of life and doesn't stop (actually it does stop, but only when you're in a traffic jam!). That's what happens when you live in a city the size of Sydney with 12 million people in it**

Fast forward about 4 weeks since I started writing this post, and I again find myself sitting here at 9:30pm with the sound of traffic busying by. We have settled into this new life and are loving the adventure of it all (but we really miss our family! and friends)  

The Juxtaposition of this city I now call home is everywhere I turn. Wealth and poverty side by side, literally. It is shocking and confronting. I am again reminded that Australia is a lucky country, and life there is so easy. It's hard to understand that on almost every street corner there is another huge shopping mall (5 star style) selling the likes of Louis Vuitton and Gucci and next to that building, people live in conditions that we can barely comprehend. I look at the price tags in the shops (it is expensive here!) and I wonder over and over again, how do people survive in this city? In reality, many people are barely surviving, but even when it's staring you in the face, it's hard to grasp that reality.

We take a walk around our new neighborhood and the moment we step out the front door (which includes multiple doors and security gates), the contrast is striking. We are greeted with smiles and 'Salamat Datang' everywhere we go. We meet amazing people who share a moment of their lives with us and I wonder if they realise how affected we are, I am, by the interaction. We see living conditions that are so humbling, it's hard to walk next door to the place we call home.

As our hearts open to this city and the people around us, I wonder how we ever questioned if we should move to this amazing country.















Thursday, July 18, 2013

A 3 year old and her handbag


Yes. We are still alive. We are safe and well and loving Indonesian life thus far. But before I go into all of that, it would be amiss of me not to post about my littlest girl and the day she has literally been waiting for for months.

Her birthday. Or in her words; "ma birfday". Since about mid March she has been telling people almost everyday "it's ma birfday" which is usually followed by "oh happy birthday Lily". She beams everytime, even when I explain "it's not actually her birthday today", she just insists it is...

And now, somehow this day has finally arrived and the baby I held in my arms not so long ago is 3.

T.H.R.E.E.



Because my posting has been so sporadic over the last couple of years I sometimes wonder at the accuracy of the portrayal of my littles. Especially this little lady.

If you know Lily from the blog, she is cute (I'm her mother) sweet, and adored by her siblings. All true.

If you know Lily in real life you know that this girl gives me a run.for.my.money!! She is adored but she is tough (said with total love :) She was born with the freest of free spirits and while I want this girl to soar high, I also want to help her follow the 'rules'. Even just sometimes. We're still working on that one :)!!! 


So the morning of her 3rd birthday we all woke up with much excitement, because it was finally 'ma birfday'. My excitement was in watching Lily delight in her day of days, but I may or may not have also been celebrating the departure of the terrible 2's :)!! A mumma can dream right? :)! Her siblings showered her in love all.day.long and I think it's entirely accurate to say that she had the best day ever.

 
I even bought her a lollypop. All her dreams come true!


Sporting her new handbag that sat on her shoulder for a large portion of the day and her new dress from Grandma...





Happy Birthday 3 year old! We love you!!!!!!!!

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