tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3436251631891673332024-02-18T21:12:33.688-08:00Children's Global Alliancewww.childrensglobalalliance.orgLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-9927140187872541192019-02-04T09:55:00.000-08:002019-02-05T07:29:04.149-08:00Working in five countries for the last decade with thousands of children's and families in need, I could fill a library with stories of struggle and survival. Yet, there is a 16 year old boy named Benard, that currently attends the "Brainy Heroes secondary school" in Arusha, Tanzania, that levels me to my core; in a way that nothing else ever has. I have spoken of him before, and I will speak of him again, because the way he lives his life, after what he has experienced, is impossible and too profound to explain only once.<br />
<br />
The moment in 2013, when I found out what he had endured, I couldn't physically walk through the door of the Headmaster to get a plan together. That is usually how I combat the sadness, by coming up with solutions. This was too overwhelming, it felt like the heaviness was swallowing me. An unbearable pressure began to take up space in my throat, like my vocal chords were about to snap from the strain of holding back my rage. I walked outside the gates of the school, sat on the side of the dirt road and cried. He was one of 200 children in that school, and one of the thousands of children we work with around the world, but on that day, in that moment, it was only him. I could have never imagined the relationship we would have today and how far he has come from that 11 year old that would never make eye contact, hung his head low, and would only speak in a whisper. All side effects of child who was invisible.<br />
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He has been tortured, enslaved, abandoned and cast aside. He has been given every reason to live his life as a victim, to become a statistic, to harbor hatred and anger. He refuses to let his suffering continue and chooses to focus on the good, where other people would have never even looked to find it. Benard has never had parents to guide him, yet he is driven, polite and kind. He has never been promised material possessions in exchange for good grades, yet he has completely dedicated every moment of his life to his education. He has never lived in a loving home, had his own room, or had running water, yet he is grateful. He isn't entirely sure when his birthday is because it has never been celebrated. There is no one pushing him, except him. His entire life he has scratched and clawed for his survival. At 8 years old he was tending to goats for $1 a month, to help the Aunt he was living with, who eventually died. After her passing, he gave up his dignity and freedom, and lived as a slave, because he was told he could also go to school. Tortured every day, he slept outside in a dilapidated dog house and did his homework by kerosene lamp. Can you even begin to imagine? His story is more than just a story of survival, it is a story of strength.<br />
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The couple who enslaved him at 8 years old, had taken his dignity as a human being and stolen his spirit, but their evil was far outmatched by his resilience. He truly is unbreakable.<br />
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I asked him in August to make a list of the items he would need for the upcoming year. CGA sponsors his education and he boards at his school, so food and shelter are covered. When school goes on break for two months each year, he stays alone and has to provide for himself. When he gave me his list (dated and numbered) The familiar pressure instantly began to build in my throat. He had numbered his list to 10 but only came up with 7 items....for the year.<br />
<br />
-A box of pens<br />
-A box of pencils<br />
-Exam folders (required to turn in exams)<br />
-School shoes (required)<br />
-A T-shirt<br />
-1 body lotion<br />
-Soccer shoes<br />
-Soccer shorts<br />
<br />
I also asked him to include pocket money for the year. After carefully thinking about a budget he came up with $7.50 a month. That is 25 cents a day for extras....for a 16 year-old boy.<br />
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I haven't stopped thinking about this list. He consistently brings me back to this place, humbled and in awe of what he has been handed in life that he refuses to let define him. I am grateful to the forces at work that day in his 5th grade math class, when the seat next to him happened to be available. That day and this boy have impacted me for life. Benard, you have easily been my greatest teacher and in this lifetime I will always support your dreams. I hope to give you at least a fraction of what you have given me.<br />
<br />
I wanted to share more about Benard because through CGA we are not only focused on creating global minded future leaders in our own community, but also around the world. Every human being matters, and this is what we teach our students from America. We need to care about the bigger picture. Our volunteers get to spend time with their peers, like Benard, from all corners of the world. It makes an impact like no classroom ever could and their perspective is forever changed. As I mentioned before, Benard is only one of the thousands of children we are fortunate enough to work with, in five different countries around the world. These children were put on this earth to do big things, but there is a great imbalance in the chances they are given to achieve greatness. We will continue to provide them the opportunities to live out their dreams, so they can give back to the world in the most profound and beautiful ways. This is CGA.Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-47596712488783006922015-10-05T13:29:00.000-07:002015-10-05T13:30:54.073-07:00My why.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: large; line-height: normal;">With countries that vary so drastically with landscapes and customs, people and traditions, you would think that similarities would be hard to find. After traveling the world this summer and being amongst some of the most needy people in the world, I can tell you, without question, that the only thing that separates us are the circumstances we were born into. We are all born with a beating heart to love with, a brain to think and imagine with and the ability to help one another. These are the basics, and in countries like Nicaragua, Nepal, Cambodia, and Tanzania, it's where they start. It is not a realization they come to after living a life without purpose. What they are not all born with is money, opportunity, a family that wants them or a government that supports them, and somehow they find a way.</span></h1>
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This year we had fourty-two student volunteers and 7 chaperones that travelled to four countries. These students and chaperones completed 635 hours of volunteer work within there own communities before ever travelling. They also completed an 8 month long program full of research assignments, character building, language learning, integrity strengthening, and learning how to support one another within their teams. They are held accountable for creating and putting into action their personal fundraising plans, and adhering to deadlines along the way. They all keep blogs of their experiences, which is where you get a unique insight into how much of an impact these experiences provide for this impressionable age group. This program is about so much more that traveling to a developing country. The character development begins form the moment our students are chosen and our standards are high. It is about developing strong, compassionate, global minded individuals. These students are the future leaders of our communities and we feel that they are not trusted with opportunities that match the drive, determination and heart that they possess.<br />
<br />
In 2009 I had an experience that drastically changed the path I was on and revealed to me my purpose in life. I did not feel complete in my new community of Vail, Colorado. Having moved from my hometown of Orlando, Florida after a major break-up, I did not feel connected yet to my new home, or to myself. Terrified of the unknown, but determined, I decided to get ambitious and go on the county website to search for volunteer opportunities. I came across an opportunity to become a youth mentor. Within the next two days, I sat through a quick interview at Starbucks and a passed a background check. That very same day, I was standing in a middle school classroom full of students deemed "at-risk" by their teachers. They wouldn't talk to me, look at me, and my voice cracked when I spoke to them from a manual I had never laid eyes on before that moment. I felt scared, inadequate, like being the new kid at the first day of school, they looked right through me. I left that first day and cried on the way home. I had not had many experiences up until that moment where I had to put myself out there and try to fit in or be liked. Having grown up in the same town my whole life, I was "grandfathered" in to almost every situation and always had another person to introduce me to new situations. The safety net was gone, and it was in that vulnerability that I learned the value of pushing through fear and anxiety to everything waiting for me on the other side. So, I continued to show up every week, sitting in the parking lot before every session, planning my escape but never actually escaping. Heading in that classroom to face my fears about my own inadequacies while helping teenagers see past their own. It was in that classroom that I filled in the blanks of what was missing from my life. Giving what I had, even though I didn't fully know what that was at the time. A month went by and then it happened, her name was Adela, and she was 12. Her hair was always in face, hiding, shy, but strangely intimidating. I walked in the classroom and she said, "Hi Lisa-Marie!" I almost fainted, I have never been so shocked to hear my own name. I over-enthusiastically replied with something weird like "Good-day!" My nerves had taken over. Up until that moment I had felt invisible but trusted my instincts that what I was doing would one day matter to these kids. Looking back, if I hadn't felt invisible and intimidated the experience would never have been as impactful to me. These kids I was mentoring felt invisible everyday at school and every night at home. I needed to know what that was like to be able to mentor from that place. Throughout the rest of the semester I got to know them each on a level I never, ever could have anticipated. They trusted me, respected that I kept showing up each week, and once I got past the exterior, they accepted me for exactly who I was. I have never felt so free in my entire life. I was whole-heartedly invested in how these students turned out, it was my responsibility. They were brilliant, capable, enthusiastic, and not trusted with much more than getting good grades and being nice to their siblings. This experience is why Children's Global Alliance exists today.</div>
Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-69129673589757281152015-06-16T20:41:00.001-07:002015-08-25T11:31:17.136-07:00<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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“Om Mani Padme Hung, Om Mani Padme hung” the mantra that is
observed on temples and prayer wheels throughout Nepal and carried through the
streets by the chanting of this hauntingly beautiful mantra. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Originating from Tibbetan Buddhism, it’s
meaning is complex and cannot be translated into a simple phrase or even a few
sentences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The basics of the mantra
incorporate generosity, ethics, patience, compassion, perseverance,
concentration and wisdom. It is said that all the teachings of Buddha are
contained in this one mantra. The depths of this power and lack of words to
explain it, are exactly how I would describe the people and cultural strength
in Nepal. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I am on day 13 in Nepal with our student volunteer team
Nicole, Kevin, AJ and Ava and our team leader Jen. We are on a trip that was
never supposed to happen. Two earthquakes rocked Nepal within three weeks.
Other programs cancelled, and the integrity of our program was questioned. Deciphering
fact from fiction from our fear based media outlets was a challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After taking every precaution and
communicating with those on the ground in Nepal, the choice to move forward with our trip was clear. I arrived the day before the group and confirmed immediately
that our decision was the right one. Witnessing a tarmac filled with supplies
from around the world, waiting to be taxed, was my first indication that our
hands on approach was needed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We did not
encounter any other teams and there was endless work to be done. I was told
that just seeing foreigners walking down the street was bringing smiles and
hope to the people. Of course we weren’t satisfied with just showing up.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Throughout our two weeks in Nepal we have pushed ourselves to give
everything we have. Asking ourselves, “have we done
everything we can?” at the end of each day. During the day we teach at the Deeya Schree school to
classrooms full of 150 anxious students. They have been out of school for a
month because of the earthquakes and were so eager to get back into their
routines. In developing countries the kids actually want to be in school, it is
seen and treated as a privilege. The students we teach reside in the slums of
Manahara Bhasti and are desperate for a chance to take a path different from
their parents. They carry the weight of their entire families on their tiny
shoulders. No working computers, no educational posters on the walls, nothing
fancy at all and no complaints. We teach eight classes a day and have slowly
earned the respect of the students and teachers, a very hard task. Most
volunteers that come into the school can handle 1-2 classes a day because of
the high energy of the overcrowded classrooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Our group arrived early and left late. Our students had also prepared
lesson plans prior to arriving and had something prepared for each subject,
every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once they got the hang of it,
I observed our student volunteers come alive with confidence and become the
type of teachers that impact students forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is only half of our job while in Nepal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After school, at 4:00pm we begin our manual
labor; This is not just any manual labor, it is personal. Taking down someone’s
home, brick by brick while standing next to the person who has lived their
entire life there, will rock you to your core. A widow, a father of three, a
family of 11, we helped them all. I was shocked that we were the only foreign team helping with demolition. This demolition is critical to complete within two
weeks, prior to the monsoon season. Trying to salvage their ground floors from
further damage so they have somewhere to begin to build from, is paramount.
Cockroaches crawling over our feet, dust and dirt in our eyes, blood and
blisters, we pushed. When you find homework in the rubble, from the day before
the earthquake, your task becomes a need and not a want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Throughout this trip I have not heard one complaint from our
student volunteers. They are our most
experienced group to date and have been with our program for four years. They
don’t just have a special place in my heart, the have the penthouse, private
suite with butler included. They have helped shaped this program into
everything is has become. Turning my own personal need to contribute to this
world into something I have to do, not a need or a want. I do this for them so
that their hearts and souls are expanded into places they never knew
existed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So that they will continue down
their own unique paths to uncover their true passions in life and help others
along the way. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have seen someone take their first breath and watched someone take their last. The moments in between have been filled with great love and loss. Looking back at my experiences around the globe, I come back to one thing that keeps me afloat. I think mostly about the hearts, acceptance and kindness of the people in these places. Not the tourist attractions, shopping or souvenirs, but the people and the light of their beauty in the darkest of situations. I have witnessed the most extraordinary examples of loyalty, resilience, creativity and hope among those who have been cast aside as hopeless. Born without luxuries or any foreseeable opportunities, and still able to carve out their own unique space in all of the chaos and loss that surrounds their everyday lives. Thank you, Nepal.</div>
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"Om Mani Padmi Hung" </div>
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LM</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-11029731505091232562013-12-26T21:23:00.000-08:002014-01-13T14:04:00.250-08:00A year in review<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrJWDiZwIoFHy-6uqrc5WavJZgvqE5XD1FbhzISQOQ89ZxYGtbtRFDNlgYbQCmoAZTpsAm9rnIVT5v6S2J6Bb2_D7F_zFl-d7V8Uht-EEuNJSLUnTtDw_uuv94oK7FjVgGsDwmA1CFx6i/s1600/P1050557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrJWDiZwIoFHy-6uqrc5WavJZgvqE5XD1FbhzISQOQ89ZxYGtbtRFDNlgYbQCmoAZTpsAm9rnIVT5v6S2J6Bb2_D7F_zFl-d7V8Uht-EEuNJSLUnTtDw_uuv94oK7FjVgGsDwmA1CFx6i/s320/P1050557.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Love for the world we live in, love for our children, love for equal opportunities, this organization is fueled by love. We survive solely on the generosity of our supporters. With all that we have been able to accomplish, fueled simply by love and generosity it parallels with the simplicity of life found in the developing countries we work in.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakTGfBir3wWrUEnbjnzbmCcUt7UrQA4Yz2JzA7CA4qagdc1w_Xld5CxR8xbT26urMbVTWa26Tw2A1lQ3stGG5Fi7ezvQXPbQ3G4jEqUCdOYnBkhVlnct_u95tj7zcW9Qg4TrkMCwXapr7/s1600/P1060487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_a4uUTAyB6qJuM8i_E8ladDi7LmbhRydesA8spqvgxLIjHxphvIid6Mew3y13LVNSc9FGgd6e6dluWlIgITixJGr_dCUnqyQBkImk1aafsgEriN3A6mRJKyUSdHw7f6NGdM5EOHrr4Dok/s1600/P1060487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_a4uUTAyB6qJuM8i_E8ladDi7LmbhRydesA8spqvgxLIjHxphvIid6Mew3y13LVNSc9FGgd6e6dluWlIgITixJGr_dCUnqyQBkImk1aafsgEriN3A6mRJKyUSdHw7f6NGdM5EOHrr4Dok/s200/P1060487.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRrOUcogN7V-i21xtenCvdYe9Os69fmicbqvSpG8g64OmX8BXF1sQguUzXaSRs4oftfccE55mO6HNm7YUuA8cEvCsvacRaoMIDzDH5Dn_koT_HhemBSzSF07q6-fvDMuhZMOx3S2lxl60/s1600/P1070323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRrOUcogN7V-i21xtenCvdYe9Os69fmicbqvSpG8g64OmX8BXF1sQguUzXaSRs4oftfccE55mO6HNm7YUuA8cEvCsvacRaoMIDzDH5Dn_koT_HhemBSzSF07q6-fvDMuhZMOx3S2lxl60/s200/P1070323.JPG" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">At our annual fundraiser this past March we </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">were able to raise </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">$14,315 </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">in three hours. The success of those three hours allowed us this year to directly impact thousands of children, families and communities around the world. In Cambodia we built two homes, that house 30 children. Children who previously slept outside. It's extraordinary to see the impact that some wood, nails, concrete and tin can have over someone's life. I think it was more powerful for the children to see the time, care, blood, sweat and tears put into creating their new homes; That we cared and loved them enough to create something beautiful for them. We were able to buy beds, mattresses, sheets and pillows for every child. The day we delivered and set up the beds was surreal. When we left for the day, all I could think about when I laid down to sleep was that those 30 children were finally enjoying some basic comfort for the first time in their lives. 30 tiny heads laying on 30 pillows, comfortable, not worrying about dengue fever or malaria from mosquitoes. We hung pictures of them in their new homes and wrestled with tears as they realized that this was for them, because they deserved to have a safe, clean place to sleep. We were also able to fill their bellies with food, their library with books, and their medicine cabinet for a year.</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LeQnExICaRKHZU3mlu2SAmL1IIxxGFNYmn-9IYqnwEpbT0uDu2WvwjYszaIyqU5YdOknD1hjb4ywVgS7zWbv-9oiZMgbPa5ACglHT23lCkHgAy2M7u_LqPBgy2phIkrObOpAyWXO91Pk/s1600/P1050689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LeQnExICaRKHZU3mlu2SAmL1IIxxGFNYmn-9IYqnwEpbT0uDu2WvwjYszaIyqU5YdOknD1hjb4ywVgS7zWbv-9oiZMgbPa5ACglHT23lCkHgAy2M7u_LqPBgy2phIkrObOpAyWXO91Pk/s200/P1050689.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Food & supplies for 125 families,<br />
Nicaragua</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In Nicaragua, a portion of the $14,315 dollars made it possible to save lives by providing medication, doctor visits and food. We have lost two children since starting our program in Nicaragua. Marbely died at 9 years old from a heart attack caused by her grandfather running out of her $5 medication. Alejandro was mistakenly given an injection that stopped his heart, he waited 8 hours to see a <br />
government provided "doctor" for a broken arm. So this money has been critical to never losing another child. It has absolutely saved lives. The lives of Jose daniel, Franklin & Clara, Milagro and Jesus. All suffering from disabilities and parents that can't afford the extra care required to keep them alive.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6aD9XUC4AQ6rVcM0_2OnkWs0SARi8ZxwQ5QL-W_55B3DhTp52Ut4MjFEZZqhO5sqL67_vHcYYIBixkW3R2QQ2my6We1NjK7Co9ndxYZeA1nD7T3i5nxExshF81vU7pPD4Vhl6sH0-yHt/s1600/P1050705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6aD9XUC4AQ6rVcM0_2OnkWs0SARi8ZxwQ5QL-W_55B3DhTp52Ut4MjFEZZqhO5sqL67_vHcYYIBixkW3R2QQ2my6We1NjK7Co9ndxYZeA1nD7T3i5nxExshF81vU7pPD4Vhl6sH0-yHt/s200/P1050705.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Escuela Especial, Nicaragua</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Knowledge is power. Information is liberating. Education is the premise of progress, in every society, in every family."</span></i> </span></span><br />
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In Tanzania it was extremely satisfying to be able to spend $3,200 to provide 150 students with knowledge through textbooks. Previously, only the teachers taught from one battered and torn book, that was passed around the class. As we unpacked the books, the children excitedly peeked in through the doorway and began jumping and smiling, still unsure if the books were really for them. Next year we want to help tackle the $1,200 that is needed to feed all of the children every month and eliminate some of the burden from Mary Sinantei, the single mother and angel among us that keeps the place running, with no help from the government; Fueled by passion through her own struggles.<br />
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This brings me to our students from Vail, North Carolina and Florida who travelled with us this year and witnessed the power of love and compassion first hand, like never before. They struggled, fought, and gave every ounce of their hearts and energy every day. To help people they perceived as being able to do absolutely nothing for them. They do not return they same way they come into this experience. working in these countries expands your mind and the capacity at which you thought you could love something or someone beyond anything you ever thought was possible. Creating global minded, compassionate teenagers that will one day be running the world. They care more, love bigger and want for less.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCi2-zP_gRt1b5rT204psFdHJRsgXwrguLY3irfI4jjjbRwduyteEp4gS8jz191BQibDDj2yS0p8W1JkPRm5WMOVByvlEAtukZ8LfVRjjiC0zLFpW48x0KxD0AaJOOUunesQ5WGM2bWfB/s1600/P1070751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCi2-zP_gRt1b5rT204psFdHJRsgXwrguLY3irfI4jjjbRwduyteEp4gS8jz191BQibDDj2yS0p8W1JkPRm5WMOVByvlEAtukZ8LfVRjjiC0zLFpW48x0KxD0AaJOOUunesQ5WGM2bWfB/s200/P1070751.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Naserian, Tanzania</td></tr>
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So your donations have been hard at work and directly impacted the lives of not only the children and communities in the orphanages and schools we work in but also in the lives of of children here at home. Thank you. It amazes me that a three hour fundraiser at a bowling alley full of people that care, and our sole title sponsor and friend, Bob McCormick, allowed us to accomplish so much good around the world. This would not have been possible without your support. So, with my a heart overflowing with love and gratitude, THANK YOU. You have given far more than you may ever realize.<br />
<br />
With great love and gratitude,<br />
<br />
Lisa-Marie<br />
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*Our annual event will be March 2nd, 2014 at Bol in Vail once again! Our goal at this event is to raise $20,000. We are taking 42 students on four trips next summer to Cambodia, Nica and Tanzania!<br />
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Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-9075046271573325202013-12-03T08:51:00.000-08:002013-12-03T08:51:17.498-08:00"Everything we want is on the other side of fear"Fear, hope, desperation, a glimpse in my direction.<br />
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in Nicaragua it's in their eyes.<br />
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An embrace so strong our hearts start beating together, where I can actually feel the weight of the burden they carry, begin to soften.<br />
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In Cambodia it's in their touch.<br />
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An indescribable energy, a momentum and light you can feel.<br />
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In Tanzania it pours from their souls.<br />
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It's the common denominator that links the families and children in these countries together. It is the strength I have felt in an instant from a glance, a hug or someone reaching up to hold my hand. It's what drives me, every day, to share this experience with as many people as I can.<br />
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Anyone that has travelled with our group in the past has experienced these feelings and it is something that cannot easily be described. When you combine this feeling with all of the massive amounts of work we are able to accomplish in these countries and the beautiful landscapes and culture of each place, it plays out like a dream.<br />
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It has long been a personal dream of mine to be able to properly document our experiences, and feel like we are doing them justice. We have simply not had the resources to fulfill this dream. I found out last week that I am a finalist in a contest that GoPro is having to do just that! I would like to throw out into the universe that I would really like to win. Thank you.<br />
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To have the capability to document these experiences in a first person perspective so we could invite people into the experience and shed light into these parts of the world is an extraordinary opportunity.<br />
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As we make updates of photos and video available, they will then be shared through our website, allowing for a truly interactive global experience. Not only will we reach those that are in the greatest need of our support, but our story will also reach those in greatest need of awareness of our efforts. We have simply not been capable of bringing the efforts of those on the ground with the global community in real time. It is thrilling for me to think about the classrooms, families, and friends being able to experience this along with us and feel like they are there...without any jet lag!<br />
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My goal through this project is to to capture the wealth of love, color and beauty that exists in the most impoverished places on earth. To tell the stories of the indigenous people, and capture the beauty of tradition and custom that are weaved throughout their every day life. This project will open the eyes of the world to the fact that although our struggles are very different, ultimately we are all one.<br />
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Fingers crossed,<br />
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LMLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-54667441122646468942012-08-03T05:52:00.001-07:002012-08-03T18:57:26.166-07:00What is essential? When you take a moment to think about your own life and all that it entails, what is it that you actually, truly, need? Not simply to survive, but to thrive. When I am surrounded by the children at Escuela Especial and standing in front of their families inside of their homes, these questions command the attention of every thought in my head. For me personally my most essential need, beyond the basics of food and shelter, is the need to give and receive love. Most of these children do not even have the love of their own families, are fed less than their siblings, over-medicated and locked in dark rooms all day, because they are seen as a burden. Struggling through every second of their lives with no way to communicate except to squeeze your hand, laugh and smile. We often hear that you don't know how strong you are until your strength is tested and the human spirit is one of the most resilient forces in the world. After spending time with children who have special needs in a country that treats them as a curse, needless to say, I understand that resilience with a whole new level of respect.<br />
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A majority of the experience for our team in Nicaragua is visiting the homes of children who are too disabled to attend school and also visiting the homes of children who are disabled, being mistreated and have been reported to the Nicaraguan equivalent of social services. You never know what you are walking into as you stand outside a "home" in the slums. The anticipation and fear of the unknown is a very unique and intimidating feeling. You will see children that are skin and bones with cerebral palsy whose spines and limbs have contorted into the shape of whatever chair they have been sitting in. You will see extremes between children whose parents actually perform their exercises daily, taught to them by a physical therapist, and children whose parents haven't done them for 12 years. You listen as their parents answer your questions about the medications the children are taking for seizures and then show you that they haven't been able to afford it for months. It is impossible to not feel what it must be like for them every day. As difficult as this is to see, there was never any hesitation with having students participate in a service project of this magnitude. It is important for them to not only share in the triumphs of the children in school but also gain awareness into the tragedies that await them at home. <br />
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Below are the links to the blogs of the students who are currently in Nicaragua. Their perspectives are priceless and it has been extraordinary to witness the growth and transformation happening daily within each of them.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Makena: </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21px;"><a href="http://makenanicaragua.blogspot.com/" style="color: #009bc0; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://makenanicaragua.blogspot.com/</span></a></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maddie: </span></span><a href="http://maddieinnicaragua.blogspot.com/" style="color: #009bc0; text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://maddieinnicaragua.blogspot.com/</span></span></a><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Meaghan: </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21px;"><a href="http://nicaraguaservicetrip2012.blogspot.com/" style="color: #009bc0; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://nicaraguaservicetrip2012.blogspot.com/</span></a></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kevin: </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21px;"><a href="http://kevynichols.blogspot.com/" style="color: #009bc0; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://kevynichols.blogspot.com/</span></a></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Douglas: http://douglasinnicaraguatrip2012.blogspot.com/</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #aeaeae; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-68659096158860249092012-07-16T11:14:00.001-07:002012-07-17T23:03:04.563-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">THAT JUST HAPPENED...these three words ring through my ears loudly when I stop to think about the last month and a half of my life. I am sitting here staring at a blank page as my restless mind once again tries to sort out where to begin. With so many things that happened, big and small, what words could I possibly fill this space with could bring to life to all of the intangible emotions that I have experienced over the last six weeks? The entire experience is so personal that the thought of not doing it justice, is unlike anything else. I have returned from Cambodia and been back in Nicaragua for four days. Not a minute has passed that I haven't been thinking about how much I miss that place, the student volunteers and chaperones that I moved mountains with, and the energy of the children at the orphanage. We were able to make remarkable progress while falling hopelessly in love with the 50 children and staff who live there. I am completely overwhelmed with pride! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We began our quest to drastically improve the living conditions, health and self-sustainability options at the orphanage by funding and facilitating running water for the first time ever. It took about a month to get together and was a moment that was bursting with so much joy and gratitude that it will be permanently etched in my brain. No more milk jug tied to a string that went down a well, 50 feet before you would hit water...success! We were then able to repair and extend the roof over the stage area where they all sleep, eat, study and play so they won't get soaked every time that is rains. We got full swing into manual labor mode and weeded, repaired, and cleared out the garbage and scrap piles that had taken over the chicken coop. We constructed a huge pig pen built from the ground up with bricks and mortar, a new roof, and imported a big pink pig named "Lola." There was a massive effort in cleaning the orphanage and 10 years worth of trash that was removed from the yard and replaced with a permanent clothesline. This had enough room to hang laundry for 50 people and created a solution for their clothes hanging on the fence and barbed wire all around the place. We dug rows and planted a crop of vegetables to nourish their bodies and provided fruits and veggies from the market to enhance their daily meals until the crops are ready to eat. We cut the grass for days on our hands and knees with handheld machetes in 100 degree heat to clear all the areas for the projects. Then there was our daily uphill effort to promote hygiene, a life without a head full of lice and introduced the idea of using soap in the shower. We repaired and rebuilt a fence, all the way around the property that was sagging and broken from them previously having to hang all of their clothes on it. The fence also had gaping holes where people from the neighborhood had been throwing their garbage for years. We distributed clothing, shoes, books and medical supplies to seven different orphanages and made a lot of friends along the way. We also danced with them in the rain, painted their nails, made sure the little one's ate all their vegetables, read them stories, sung songs, washed their clothes and bandaged their cuts and bug bites. We made our mark. We were examples to people we had never met of the transformation that is possible with some hard work and a whole lot of love. We gave the student volunteers a priceless example of DOING....not just talking about it, throwing money at it, or wishing for it, but actually seeing what all of their effort, fund raising, and time was going towards and DOING IT. Every day was an opportunity to do better than the day before, to work harder, give more and to never stop until we had given all we had. In return, they gave us their most prized and sometimes only possession, their love.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This orphanage was different than any place we have ever worked. They weren't really sure what to think of us, they don't see a lot of volunteers, it is the same way in Nicaragua. We have to ease into all of the projects and earn the right to be there. The challenge of these types of places, intrigues me because when it all comes together and it is something you have to earn, it is that much sweeter. Change is never easy, the majority of people who live in the rural areas of Cambodia and Nicaragua still live the same way they did 100 years ago. This is their home and we are strangers, we had to work for the right to be in their home. I would equate it to making someone fall in love with you who has had there heart broken almost every day of their life, not easy. You know it's in there and that they are capable of it, but it gets harder for them to trust each time because of their past. When they observe you doing manual labor for eight hours in extreme heat and rain, that is when they realize you aren't just stopping by to spoil the kids, on your tour around Cambodia, never to be seen again. They begin to learn your names and squeeze back when you force your hugs upon them, to the point they stick to you like glue. I arrived a week before the first group of student volunteers to give these awkward hugs, finalize our plans, and confirm where we would be working. Things change in an instant in developing countries so the unexpected is the only thing you can absolutely count on. After days of visits to 15 other projects with only glimpses of hope, I pulled up to the CPO orphanage in the middle of nowhere and knew it was where we belonged within 5 minutes. Once the first group of students arrived we dove in, head first. The thrill of seeing these two polar opposite world's collide will always amaze me and make me completely giddy. I feel like I get a front row seat to the way life should always be, giving and loving with no expectation for anything in return. Teenagers from the U.S caring about so much more than they ever thought possible, and actually taking pride in their work when they see the gratitude of the people they are helping, it's beautiful. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Children's Global Alliance is about so much more than kids helping kids, it is also about kids helping themselves. The expectations begin when the students are chosen for the trip. I feel that every moment of every day is an opportunity for change and growth, even when you are 12-15 years old. This is why they are held to another standard and it doesn't ease up the entire trip. There are rewards and consequences and their behavior on the airplane ride over is just as important as their behavior in front of an audience of fifty kids at the orphanage. They are role models and must act accordingly. If they leave something behind, it is confiscated and they have to pay to get it back, with the proceeds going to our party on the last day at the orphanage. If they don't keep their hotel room clean, they miss out on trips to the market and scrub toilets at the orphanage instead. We show them how important it is to give 110%, even when nobody is watching...that is having integrity. Teaching them that the measure of being a good person is how you treat someone that can do absolutely nothing FOR you....not just in a foreign country, but every day, every person you come in contact with. To not fall into the trap of craving the attention that you get for volunteering, but falling in love with work you are doing and the children you are helping, even if nobody ever finds out that you were there. We even touch on properly fueling your body for all of the intense labor we are doing and how important good nutritional habits are for your mood and energy levels. To teach and enforce the rules of a whole different level of integrity and respect, this is one of our major goals for our volunteers. As you can imagine, this is exhausting, but means enough (everything) to me and my chaperone's and we are constantly and consistently searching for ways to make them better people. We have them as a captive audience for two weeks in a foreign country, which is a rare honor, and we squeeze everything we can from it. You always hear that kids secretly crave boundaries, this also involves giving them the freedom to make decisions, think for themselves and not enable them to be anything except extraordinary. We promote thinking for themselves about the next step, taking initiative and not waiting to be told what to do. I have a tremendous amount of respect for parents. To love, feed, educate, provide for your children and to teach them to be good people is a lifetime of work. This program enhances the work you have already done while also changing their perspective on the world. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I received a letter this morning from a student who just returned from Cambodia. The tears rolled down my cheeks as she detailed beautifully exactly what this experience meant to her and how it has changed her life forever. I am not sure I have ever felt more at peace. The reward of seeing all that we accomplished at the orphanage along with all that the students accomplished personally, is more than I could ever ask for. I wholeheartedly believe that this program is a giant stepping stone to a more fulfilled life for these students and a rare opportunity for them to gain a perspective on life that most adults never even get to experience. It is also a much needed relief for children born in developing countries, that struggle through every day of their lives because of the circumstance they were born into. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">16 students and 5 chaperones all working together to make life better for those who need it most. I am so proud of you Anna, Jack, Creek, AJ, Gena, Haley, Nicole, Keavy, Schariar, Ava, Alex, Bret, Camryn, Mallory, Nikko, and Zoe for opening your hearts and minds to this experience. You each inspire me and it was an honor and privilege to work with you and witness you taking yourselves to the next level. The kids at the orphanage will never forget you and neither will I. You each own a piece of my heart and I will be here for you, forever. To your parents, thank you for believing in this process and valuing this experience enough to trust us with your children. Thank you for your time and every ounce of love and support along the way. To all of our friends and family that supported us along the way and continue to support us, your generosity is what fuels this program and none of it would be possible without you, thank you! To Jen, Jamie, Jana, Jenna and Johnny.... the greatest, most passionate team of volunteers I could have ever wished for. Thank you for each sharing your individual strengths with the team of students and for giving your hearts over to the children at the orphanage. I am so grateful for the time and energy you took away from your lives and families and put into making these trips so successful, I love you all so much.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our next group of student volunteers arrives in Nicaragua on July 27th, I am more than looking forward to this experience all over again! The need and emotion is so much greater here, but I am confident in the team we have assembled for the job. More blogs to come, thank you for your support!</span></span>Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-74164485985847291022012-06-25T02:36:00.000-07:002012-07-17T05:35:10.170-07:00I can remember being a little girl and performing in dance recitals from the time I was two years old. I would get all dressed up and put on make-up, completed with a bun so tight my eyes instantly changed shape, and I had a throbbing headache. The adrenaline and excitement typically took over and sometimes I would even actually remember the dance. Before each performance started I would peek out from the sides of the stage to try and spot my parents in the audience. I had hoped they had remembered to get me a bouquet of flowers to say congratulations, so I could feel like the star of the show. Once I spotted them, I could breathe. The music started and everyone would perform for the people they loved and nothing else mattered. When I watch the children at the orphanage getting prepared all day to perform for us with all the costumes, hair and make-up, and see them peeking from the back of the curtain, it hits me. They are performing on the same stage where they sleep, eat, play, and live every moment of their lives, except when they go to school for a few hours each day. They perform to contribute to their household expenses each month at the orphanage. There is a lot more at stake than a bouquet of flowers. By the way that they dance you would never know that. It seems to be an escape for them and for most of them, their only chance to express themselves. There are no parents waiting in the audience but we are there, and we love them! I don't have children of my own but during that hour long performance was one of the closest times that I have felt like I did. I took over 300 pictures, got teary eyed, and clapped even when you weren't supposed to. I couldn't find my tissues so I had put a few cotton balls in each pocket and was using them to absorb the tears of joy.....class act. I could barely stay in my seat and finally got my chance to tell them it was the best show I have ever seen.<br />
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This would be on the hardest and final day at the orphanage for our first group of volunteers. We had stopped at the market in the morning and secured items for their fried chicken feast followed up by banana splits! The students negotiated the whole, hanging chickens dangling around in the open air market, covered in flies, like old pro's. They had instructions to buy them without the feet, head or guts..and nobody threw up! The children at the orphanage had never had a meal like this before and the way they kept going back for more until they physically could not take another bite, confirmed we had made a good choice. After we all compared bellies, a game I really love, we presented them with our gift of a gigantic mural of pictures that were taken over the last two weeks. Then it began, the next few hours the student volunteers danced with the kids at the orphanage like it was their last night on earth. They gave it everything they had. The tears started early and I couldn't make eye contact with anyone for too long or the slippery slope would begin. The children at the orphanage are used to being left behind, but the situation they are leaving is typically a nightmare. In this case, they were being separated from the students who have brought hem so much joy, upgraded their living situation, and filled their bellies and their hearts for the first time in a very long time. This was also the first time they had been around kids their own age that aren't in their same situation, as our volunteers are 12, 13 and 14 years old. The students are examples to the children and a hope that something better is possible. That is what they were letting go of on this night and that is why it is so hard to leave them. As the night fell, the sounds and sadness of 50 children filled the air. You never get used to that sound and the darker it gets the louder it becomes. Remember, Cambodian children are taught never to cry, so when you look around and see five children on one student volunteer and every one of them is lost in tears, it rips you apart. The walk to our tuk-tuks began with children hanging on every limb. Once you sit down and begin to ride away the children hold on to your hands as long as they can while running down the road with you. The tension of their grasp begins to give and their hand slips away, as you lose them in the darkness.<br />
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I can remember two years ago when we were putting the first trip together for student volunteers and someone asked me in a not so supportive way, "When can students THAT young actually do?" I think about this question a lot when I see how capable these students are physically and emotionally, with just an outlet to do so and some support and encouragement. When I watch them teach the kids at the orphanage their ABC's, how to bathe with soap, clean their trash and to speak english and take pride in themselves. When I listen to them discuss the situations these kids are in with fire in every word, I know it has made a lasting impact. They care about it, and it has nothing to do with their cell phones, video games or who's dating who or what's on TV. I know that there is nothing in this world that they CAN'T do...except maybe drive and shave. : ) They transform right before your eyes when put in a situation bigger than themselves, with no safety net in sight. I can say that the next group who arrives on Wednesday will have some pretty big shoes to fill. Today we are heading to Siem Reap to visit the Angkor Wat temples, a very important part of Cambodian history. The students have more than earned this reward and they have no idea how much I will miss them when I drop them off at the airport on Tuesday. I learn from them every day and we have had some very difficult moments and also some hilarious moments, that won't soon be forgotten. They have made a lasting impact in my life as well. Jack (gangster), AJ, Haley, Keavy, Schariar, Creek (Boss), Nicole, Gena, Jen and Jamie THANK YOU for your hard work, through heat rash and happiness, and thank you for your love.Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-62475693258000635792012-06-21T07:05:00.000-07:002012-06-21T07:48:17.938-07:00Cambodia is a heart breaker. It has always pretty much terrified me to ask about the stories of the children at the orphanage. One is more tear inducing than the next, and the only silver lining comes in knowing they are no longer prisoners in unimaginable situations. The stories are all different but the hurt behind those big beautiful eyes remains the same. We have been working at the CPO orphanage for the last two weeks. This orphanage is just outside the city of Phnom Penh about an hour from where our guest house is. Some of the children come from the trash dumps/slums which are only a two minute walk from the orphanage. We are able to see where their families live, amongst garbage, in a one room shack with old clothing and scrap metal used for walls. This is typically shared with their mother and an average of nine other siblings. A lot of the Mother's are HIV positive and simply cannot feed, clothe and take care of their children. It is hell on earth, and reminds you of a scene from a movie where the world is ending. Today when we walked the garbage out on a massive cart, I saw four boys about four and five years old standing barefoot in and around a huge dumpster. Yes, a dumpster in the middle of a trash dump, it smells exactly how you think it would. They immediately jumped down and were eating our garbage and picking through the plastic to sell and recycle. That is an image that stays with you.<br />
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I decided to further torture myself and ask about the stories of two girls at the orphanage that captured my attention from the first day. They are very different girls, but as hard as they try they both have those eyes that don't go along with their smiles. The orphanage does not have enough money to sustain itself every month by donations alone. They are able to make some of the money they need each month by putting on performances that involve traditional Khmer music and dance. They perform at Weddings and Birthdays and are able to pay for their electricity bill and food with the extra money. They are incredibly talented. I watched in awe as they showed us their performance on the first day and had tears in my eyes while my attention was glued to one little girl. She was so poised, graceful, and with so much emotion behind her subdued smile. Her name is Srey Neath and she is 9 year's old. I talked to her today with the help of our translator, because I had to know. We sat outside in the tuk-tuk as she told me about the last time she saw her mother, almost one year ago. Her mother lives 40 minutes away and works at a garment factory. I don't know what would be worse, losing your parents completely or knowing one is that close and never comes to see you. As the story unfolds the mystery surrounding her begins to unravel. Her mother was a violent alcoholic who drove her father away. Srey Neath would get beaten when her mother came home from work and the rice wasn't cooked correctly, at the time, she was six years old. Her Mother would also cut herself in front of Srey Neath when she was drunk and couldn't handle her own pain anymore. Srey Neath would have to walk to the pharmacy to get a nurse and always feared her mother would bleed to death. This was her daily life up until two years ago when she came to the orphanage. Her mother told Srey Neath that she doesn't want her back until she is old enough to work and contribute to the household expenses. When I see her sitting next to me and hear her say that she used to miss her mom but does not anymore, I want to drive to the garment factory and, well.....<br />
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As the student volunteers were inside the orphanage cleaning every crevice from the kid's butt's to the kitchen, I sat down with the another girl, Raksmey. She holds on a little tighter than the rest, with a smile that could stop traffic. Something didn't seem right with her and so I finally got my chance and we began to talk. Children are raised in Cambodia to not cry, emotion is rarely shown and parents never tell their children they love them. As I watched the tears roll down her face and felt my own fall just as hard, that was all out the window. She is 13 years old, is in the 3rd grade and has only been at the orphanage since January. My translator tells me that Raksmey will probably drop out of school soon because when they are so far behind in the class with much younger students, they get picked on to the point where they quit school. She has made it through worse, which gives me a little hope that she will stick with it. She shares her story of watching her mother being abused every day, in front of her, by her own father and how he would then often come after her. Her mother would do her best to protect her by throwing herself on top of her, but it didn't always work. She was always just trying to survive every day by trying to become invisible to her father. Her parents finally divorced when she was 9 and she sobs harder when she says she can't even remember her father's face. Her mother took a job in Malaysia in January and had to leave Raksmey behind because they had no money. She left no phone number or way to be contacted, this is what hurts her the most. She misses her mother and knows that the likelihood of her ever coming back for her is slim. We held on to each other until the moment I got into the tuk-tuk to leave, I didn't want to leave her. When I think about what I was dealing with at 13 year's old and the problems I thought I had way back then.....<br />
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These are just two of the 40 kids that live at this orphanage, but all I could handle for one day. No matter how hard these stories are to hear and then write about, I feel they are important to tell. The circumstances we were born into are never our choice but how these children are still able to trust, love and even simply just smile, inspires me every moment that I am here.Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-26697644393802564942012-06-19T08:35:00.000-07:002012-06-19T17:12:06.618-07:00<br />
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Three years ago I had this crazy idea to bring teenagers halfway across the world to work hands-on to help children in need in Cambodia. With the help of a small army of volunteers and the confidence in this program from a phenomenal educator, Jen Gutmann, we are currently knee deep in our second year of service trips. Through all the challenges, logistics, meetings, fundraising and sleepless nights, I must say it has been just as sweet the second time around. There are a million moments worth writing about, the problem for all of us when blogging is narrowing it down to just a few. For me, there is one moment that I keep coming back to. After we left the orphanage at the end of the first day, and we were piled in in the tuk- tuk, six people deep, the energy level was incredibly intense. It is genuine, unfiltered, and like listening to the sound of pure happiness. The students struggle to express in words the day they just had with kids that they are already, madly in love with. It is in that moment that all the time and effort it takes to get us here, doesn't matter. I would work ten times harder, just to be able to experience that moment over and over again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">As the feelings start to grow, the students start to grow, and this is a beautiful thing. We have ridiculously high expectations for them and they have risen to the challenge. I am proud to say that the first team in Cambodia this year has accomplished so much in our first week at the orphanage and all over the city. It began with cleaning a yard full of trash at the orphanage accumulated over years and years and covered in maggots. This was closely followed up by scrubbing two toilets (holes in the ground) that are shared daily by 60 people (including us). The highlight came when delousing the heads of children who have grown up living in garbage and had never had the lice removed from their heads. We had a shampoo station, washing station and combing out station...it wasn't enough. With each swipe of the comb there would be at least 6 lice bugs and approximately 20 eggs. Needless to say, the students have worked hard, and done a lot of nose plugging and gagging in the process. We were able to get the roof to the orphanage extended to cover the stage-like area where all 33 of them sleep every night. They had grown accustomed to getting soaked every time their was a heavy rain, or having to sleep on top of each other, huddled in the corner. We have also started the tedious process of getting running water at the orphanage for the very first time. The first step was meeting with the Village Chief (No, I am not joking and yes I was disappointed he wasn't wearing some sort of feathered head wear.) The next step was getting the paperwork gathered and notarized which happened today, and tomorrow we will submit the paperwork to the office in Phnom Penh. They have always used a plastic milk jug type device, tied to a rope, and thrown in a deep well to gather the water. In the bottom of the well you can see all the other jugs that have come loose and fallen to their demise. They pull up one jug at a time, for every dish and piece of clothing to be washed, every tooth that is brushed and every "shower" for 43 people at the orphanage, every day. I don't know if you can even fathom what this would be like. For drinking water they boil the rain water. If it doesn't rain, there is no water. If they don't get volunteers they sometimes don't have enough rice. They are constantly offering their water to us and we are running out of excuses not to drink it, as we are drenched in sweat and politely saying no with dirt in our teeth. You get so thirsty sometimes that you start to weigh the pros and cons of actually drinking that water...something one of the students found out the hard way!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">We began organizing their tiny little dressers, where they each get about one drawer to store all of their possessions. This typically consists of some dirty clothes, trash, and their metal food tray that has been washed sporadically from meal to meal. We did also find a random bag of rice and a live goldfish. We later found out that the bag of rice is used by the school to get the kids to attend every day. If they make it Monday through Friday then they get a small bag of rice to take home. Yes, this actually works. We are still investigating the goldfish. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">After accessing their clothing situation we distributed all of the donated clothing and shoes that we brought from the states to the children. Another thrilling moment, to watch a child put on their first pair of shoes that aren't flip-flops and to be old enough to be absolutely unable to hold in their gratitude, excitement or.... gas. One boy actually farted he was so happy! A moment I will not soon forget or stop immaturely giggling about.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Throughout the week we have been able to visit four additional orphanages and two different communities in the "slums." We distributed clothing and medical supplies, played seemingly endless soccer games, created origamy tadpoles and works of art with crayons, and of course, we smothered all the children with our love. We also spent time bringing Cambodian history to life by visiting the S-21 genocide museum and the Killing Fields, in an effort to bring it all together and help create the "big picture" for the students. For a country with such a violent history it's still hard to believe the happiness you find in everyone we meet here. Behind those smiles are families that were ripped apart and have spent the last 30 years trying to rebuild, even with all of the odds stacked against them. I still learn something valuable every day I spend in this country about survival and the power of the human spirit. Tomorrow is another day and another opportunity to give everything we have to make life better for someone who needs it. Thank you for your continued support!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Times;">Lots of love,</span></div>
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<br /></div>Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-20368959620922824802012-05-29T10:38:00.000-07:002012-06-27T06:27:58.430-07:00MarbelyI initially started this blog six days ago but couldn't find the words, through my sheer anguish, to finish it. In my years of working with children in developing countries I always knew that losing a child was a possibility, and I thought I would be prepared for it. I can wholeheartedly confirm that this is something that I could have never been prepared for. I have experienced pain and frustration on so many levels when overcoming the obstacles that exist within this type of work. I didn't know I could possibly hurt like this. When working with kids, it is said that the reward far outweighs the risk.... right now, my heart disagrees, upon losing a child I love. When I received the news, time actually stood still, I froze...it felt like my soul had completely fled my body, hallowed, and I could feel nothing until I had reached her front doorstep, 20 minutes later, and was walking into her funeral. This is what I wrote on a day I will never, ever forget:<br />
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"Have I done everything I can today?" This is the question that speaks loudest in my head, above all of the others, at the end of the day. It is also the question that steals my sleep at night and keeps me motivated in conditions that can sometimes be less than motivating. You see, for these kids, today really is all they have. They live every day, just to survive until the next one.<br />
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I am haunted by this question, at this moment, more than ever before. I have just returned home from the funeral of Marbely, a 9-year-old girl and student at Escuela Especial. Someone I loved very much. Today, I stood in her home and stared at her face one last time, through a tiny window in her casket. Had I done all I could? As I stood over her I just kept repeating the words, "I'm sorry" to her in my head, over and over. I watched as her best friend Maura put her arms around her casket and said to me, "Marbely is sleeping and I will wait right here until she gets up." She didn't understand and had to be pulled away by one of the teachers, my pain grew to its breaking point. Asking myself if I had done all I could do...In that moment, I knew I had failed.<br />
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I struggle with what to write, how to have this make sense. If I would have come a day earlier would she still be here? She was sick last week but I never asked for how long or if anyone had checked on her...something I would normally had done. When the pieces started to come together, it only got worse. I had a doctor come to the school to treat Marbely last October. He prescribed medication for her failing heart and a week later I arranged for her to be given a sonogram on her heart with a portable machine used for pregnant women. This precious piece of equipment was the only thing in within hundreds of miles that would have worked and was hard to gain access to, but I pushed. I was told she would be alright with medication, so I supplied her with it. Fast forward to last week, she had missed 20 days of school and her medication had run out. With everything else going on at the school, I wasn't told until it was too late, but I also didn't remember to ask. The day before the funeral, the principal had stopped by Marbely's home to check on her. She was very weak and the principal urged Marbely's guardian, her 85 year old grandfather, to take her to a doctor. Neither the grandfather nor the principal could afford to take her there....she died four hours later from a heart attack. The visit would have cost $5.<br />
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I can choose to dwell over all the raw sadness and pure frustration I feel over this or I can choose to think forward to how to prevent this from ever happening again. The only thing that makes me feel better right now is focusing on being able to make progress towards a solution. My solution is to set up a small fund for the principal, Juana, to use toward doctor visits and medication when I am not in the country. I am also setting up a message board in her office to keep track each day of who is sick, for how many days and if they have received medical attention. Juana will be held accountable for receipts, weekly updates and communication with parents and teachers. She is more than up to the challenge, this is the 10th funeral she has attended for one of her students, the school needs help. She is more of a parent to these children than their actual parents are and having to plan funerals for her students has taken its toll.<br />
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This fund will be called the Marbely Memorial Fund. I will also use a small portion to help with funeral expenses after learning that Marbely's grandfather buried her in the coffin he had saved for his whole life, that he was supposed to be buried in. If you would like to help you can do so through the donate button on this blog, please specify that your donation is for Marbely. I am so grateful for your support and so is this school.<br />
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I am leaving to meet our fist group of student volunteers in Cambodia, in less than a week. Getting this fund going before I leave is my top priority. I will return to Nicaragua on July 12th but I don't want to have the fear that this could happen again while I am gone. I appreciate any and all help that will put this plan into action. I also appreciate you caring enough about these children and my mission to help improve their health and happiness. I will never forget Marbely, or the way she made me work to get her to smile. I had to earn her trust and love because of a long line of adults who had failed her. I hope, in this instance, that she didn't see me as one of them. She experienced more devastation in her short life than is even fathomable to most people. Her face has taken a permanent place in my thoughts and will always serve as motivation to stay strong on my path to help children. Someone once wisely said, "You have three choices in life... give in, give up or give it everything you've got." Rest in peace, sweet girl.<br />
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<br />Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-59063198456894431522011-10-25T12:12:00.000-07:002011-10-25T12:12:43.501-07:00Saving Sulema<div style="text-align: right;"></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sulema's 2 year old nephew in their home</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sulema and I at Escuela Especial</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sulema's bed</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: right;"></div>As we parked across the street, a 2 year old boy peeked out from the doorway of a broken down home. He watched carefully as we crossed the street and headed in his direction. As we approached the home he disappeared and another face emerged. This was the face of 14 year old Diana, Sulema's older sister. What I learned about this family within the next hour seemed like it could have been a combination of a hundred different hardship stories from a hundred different families, but in this case there was only one family involved. Asking the children "Where is your mother?" turned into a loaded question. She wasn't there, and apparently, she is never there. She returns home twice a month from selling bananas in Managua, about two hours away. Sulema's situation suddenly became clear, she was being raised by her 14 year old sister who cooks for her, dresses her and shares a cot with her. Also sharing the home is their Mother's boyfriend who once broke her nose and ribs after she interrupted his card game and asked him to bring home a bag of rice. When we asked if the other children were being abused we were told that when they try and tell their mother, she doesn't believe them. Another girl comes into the house, it is Rosa, Sulema's 19 year old sister who is the mother to the 2 year old boy we first spotted outside. She lives a few doors down and doesn't seem to know too much about how bad things have gotten with Sulema. The woman who accompanied me from the Ministry of Families (the equivalent of social services in the U.S) questioned her about the filth they were all living in. I then begged to see where Sulema sleeps and reluctantly was granted access to the inside of the house. It reeked of urine and rancid garbage. Diana tells me that Sulema will wake up and just pee on the floor next to the cot they share. The walls consist of garbage bags hanging from the ceiling to divide the room from the rest of the house. The sheet is completely soiled and I can only imagine the infestation of lice on the small pillow the two girls share at night . The girls can't explain the bruises on Sulema and are too terrified to call out their Mother's boyfriend in fear of their own lives. There is not one toy, book or any other indication that any children live in this home. The woman from the Ministry of families cannot remove Sulema from the home because there is no place to take her...because she has special needs. Her sister tells us that Sulema's mother had given her medication that was the Nicaraguan equivalent of xanex. The woman from the Ministry of Families tells me this is very common because mother's don't know how to deal with a child who is disabled so they just want them to sleep. I cringe at the fact that no matter how bad the situation gets, she is a prisoner in that house. All the Ministry of Families can do is try and educate the kids, taking care of kids, on how to care for Sulema and themselves. She also threatens to take away Rosa's son, the filthy 2 year old running around, only because it's all she can do to scare them into taking care of Sulema.<br />
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After a stop at the Health department to report the home and bring more attention to Sulema's situation we get some good news. A team of traveling doctors from Cuba is coming next week and we are able to get Sulema on their list for free healthcare. They will be able to properly diagnose her and then treat her. It is suspected she was shaken as a baby resulting in brain damage. In the mean time we purchased some new sheets and lice shampoo and sent them home with Sulema from school. With her situation and the limitations for children with special needs in this country it kills me to think that we did all we could do and she still has to go home to that place tonight.<br />
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I hit a few more roadblocks as I learn about how many children in this school could have been helped if only their families had money to go to the doctor when they were young. I met with two different boys who both had high fevers when they were babies which resulted in seizures that caused permanent brain damage. If the family had money to take the sick baby to the doctor, the fever would have been broken with medication then the seizures would have never gone that far. I have a really hard time with it being "too late." Even sitting here typing this I can't imagine how those parents feel every day of their lives knowing that $5 worth of medication could have spared their child from a lifetime of being disabled.<br />
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It was difficult to return to the school and look Sulema in the eyes without losing it. After standing in her home, knowing she has been abandoned by her mother and hearing that she goes to bed scared every night, it's all almost too much... and then I see her little face. She came over to me, intertwined both her hands and all her fingers with mine, stared straight into my soul....and started to dance and smile. She doesn't speak but at that moment, she didn't have to.Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-69616458678778286432011-10-21T05:22:00.000-07:002011-10-21T05:22:53.965-07:00Quick update!Sorry to leave you with a cliffhanger, but we lost power last night so no time to update you on Sulema and the state of her home life. Today is our last day at the school and I will update you on it all as soon as we get home. Thank you for your amazing support, it is very much appreciated!!<br />
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Lots of love,<br />
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LMLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-15750911801440268492011-10-20T05:34:00.000-07:002011-10-20T15:32:51.765-07:00The name of the school is Escuela Especial or "Special School." It is overflowing with children who are in fact SO special that they can put your entire existence in perspective with a smile. When helping Ramon today, a 14 year old boy with down syndrome, I learned what it truly means to give something your all. I watched him use every ounce of his energy to move one bead on an abacus. The concentration he used to determine which bead was blue and which one was red was nothing short of an inspirational triumph. If I faced my challenges with half as much determination as Ramon, I would have actually been able to become an astronaut. I looked across the room as Sarah was working one on one, practicing vowels with another student named Erickson. He was working with the same intention as Ramon. Both students worked diligently and concentrated with smiles on their faces, benefiting greatly from the individual attention they so desperately need. They were somehow able to tune out the screams and distractions from their classmates that they constantly have to compete with for attention and get the job done. Their teacher, Yahoska, doesn't use any pre-printed materials, she draws them all by hand when she goes home at night. The government does not provide her with any books or direction on how to teach children with such specific needs and at all different levels. So, just like with life, there is no instruction manual....she does the best she can.<br />
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The classrooms never have their lights on except to get the attention of the children who are deaf. They conserve every unit of energy, scrap of paper, and use cardboard boxes for trash cans. The toilets don't work, they don't have books and share one pencil eraser for the entire class....but the the school has as much heart as the students who attend it. These kids have a safe place where they are free to be themselves among people who care deeply for them and no lack of traditional supplies or classrooms will ever change that.<br />
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This morning I will be visiting the home of Sulema, the girl I wrote about on our first day who is one of 15 children. Her mother will be investigated by the ministry of families for child abuse. When I held her in my lap yesterday I could not believe how small and frail she was. She is seriously malnourished and completely filthy. She was wearing a school uniform shirt with only one button in tact and the shirt looked like it had been run over. When I parted her hair to look for signs of lice I saw the worst infestation I have ever seen.....with my lice experience, that is a big statement. Bugs were crawling all over her head, it was shocking. The teachers don't know what else to do and definitely struggle over how to repair her home life. To a majority of the students the school is more like a home than the actual one they are living in. I hope to get some answers today and make some progress in improving this little girl's life. Although it seems a little crazy to make this my business in a country that I don't live in, I am willing to be in an uncomfortable situation if it helps to spare this girl. Because Sulema can't talk, I kind of feel like I was brought here to be her voice. Her situation has consumed my heart.<br />
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The reality of the situation we are working in can be tough if you allow it to be. If you dwell on what you perceive the children are missing it can rapidly ruin your day. These children make you laugh until it hurts but can also bring you to tears with how very capable yet entirely misunderstood they are. What has overshadowed the depressing thoughts about their situations is simply the spirit of these children. I am inspired by their abilities, their hearts and their willingness to always, as long as it takes, keep trying.<br />
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Wish me luck!<br />
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LMLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-28424337855021537702011-10-19T05:58:00.000-07:002011-10-19T14:48:22.643-07:00When working with children in developing countries there are an infinite number of positive reinforcements that keep you charging down the right path although you are constantly being challenged. These highs enable you not to crumble when faced with the lows that can accompany meeting a child that you are told you cannot help. Today while accompanying the physical therapist from the school, I asked her if she knew Clara and Franklin and if she would mind taking a trip to their home to help me keep the promise I had made to their mother. You may remember that I wrote about them a couple of weeks ago when I first went to their home. They are 12 and 13 and don't talk, walk or possess any motor skills at all. They lay side by side in a crib all day, wear diapers and drink formula. When I asked their single mother, while we were standing in her one room home with a dirt floor, what she needs for her children she only had one request. She asked for a therapist to come to her home to teach her some exercises to help her children become stronger. The therapist told me that she had previously gone to see the children when they were around three years old. She stopped coming when she found out their mother had been working as a prostitute and often left the children alone at night. After some resistance, she reluctantly agreed to go.<br />
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When we walked in their home both children were laying on their backs in bed and were even smaller than I had remembered. I had high hopes of getting these children some help, and haven't stopped thinking about them since the first time we had met. The anticipation and excitement was building, I couldn't wait to see what the therapist would recommend to help these kids. The blow was then swiftly delivered when she took one look at their stiff limbs. The therapist said that their bones had grown permanently twisted and there muscles had shortened and contracted. Doing therapy on them now would risk braking their bones and tearing their muscles...it was simply too late. Had their therapy continued when they were three their quality of life would have been drastically different. This was tough to hear and even harder to completely accept. I was sitting on the bed and looked over at Clara as the therapist talked and felt my eyes filling up and my throat getting tight. That familiar helpless, weighted, sorrow took over while I struggled to keep it together. To accept that this was it for them killed me, for their mother it was a life sentence.<br />
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Upon returning to the school, where the rest of the team had been giving the teachers some much needed relief, things turned a corner. With the bus still broken down, we were able to get about 30 kids to school by hiring a van to get them there. Hovering over me all day was how we were going to pull off getting this bus fixed and then the relief came in the form of a very generous friend. We received enough money to get the bus fixed!!! This is the greatest gift of all time for the teachers who work at this school for no other reward than to see these kids succeed. It would have taken them all year to raise money for that van, as it is the equivalent to a year's salary in Nicaragua. The kids would have suffered because of it. THANK YOU!<br />
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A lot of other progress was made at the school as Sarah and Anna spent time in each classroom sharing their love and skill of teaching to assist the students and their instructors. They both can't believe how creatively and patiently these teachers handle up to ten students that are constantly running out of the classroom, hiding under tables or getting aggressive. The ratio of these very active students with special needs and their teacher is completely overwhelming. If you add to the fact that the teachers have little to no supplies to teach with and even bring their own toilet paper from home, you will begin to understand what they are up against. Every second we are there the picture becomes clearer.... the heart and dedication of the teachers is absolutely the only reason these kids get a chance.<br />
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Last night, we were able to get a few school supplies and and put together some tools for each teacher to use in their classrooms today. It's going to be a good day! Thank you for your support, I am humbled every minute I am at this school and in the homes of these precious children. This would not be possible without your help. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart.<br />
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Off to school,<br />
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LMLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-36510878621644637772011-10-17T17:42:00.000-07:002012-06-27T06:29:45.293-07:00And so it begins....When we arrived this morning at the school for children with special needs in Rivas, Nicaragua we were not greeted by hugs and the laughter and smiles of the 87 children who attend school there. We were instead greeted by the 15 teachers who have taken on the task of instructing these students with little to no resources. The school receives just enough from the government to keep the lights on and pay their minimal salaries. The students were not at school because the small bus that typically goes door to door and brings them has been broken since last Wednesday. The bus driver and teachers have to sometimes beg the parents to let let their kids go to school because they simply don't see the value in educating their children. Without the bus there is no way for these students, many who are physically unable to walk, to attend school. The team of teachers at the school, who are more like a tightly bonded family, stayed and talked with us for five hours. They spoke fondly of their students, detailing what they knew of their disabilities and also shared with us their teaching techniques and struggles. As we went through the eight classrooms, with their minimal supplies, no books, and hand drawn charts on the walls, the reality of what a special place this is drastically came to life.<br />
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The teachers shared many stories of their challenges and some common obstacles were that the children were malnourished, very sick and some even appeared to be abused. The parents simply lack the education and compassion to care for their children with special needs. I felt my heart break when hearing the alarming story of a little girl named Sulema, whose mother has 15 other children. She comes to school smelling of urine, is covered in bruises, has lice and is seriously malnourished. Her teacher has spent her time and limited resources trying to help her and has reported the abuse with nothing ever coming of it. Sulema lives in filth and is not cared for properly at all, this school is her only escape. When you hear something like this and see the frustration in the eyes of a teacher that most likely cares for her more than her own mother, it becomes impossible to be a bystander. So, wasting no time, we went to visit the office of the Ministry of Families which is similar to Social Services in the states. Fortunately, I have been able to make a couple of friends there over the last six months, which came in handy today when reporting the abuse of Sulema. We have an appointment to accompany a social worker on Thursday at 8:00am to pay a visit to Sulema's home and get to the bottom of what is happening there.<br />
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Our first challenge as a team will be getting the bus fixed. We had the director of the school, Juana, contact a mechanic and the estimate was almost $500. We are working on getting another estimate by tomorrow so we can get the school up and running as soon as possible. Our temporary solution is to pay $50 tomorrow for a rented van to go and pick up all the kids. We also have gathered a list of supplies and rehabilitation tools that the school is in desperate need of. If anyone is able to save the day and help us get the school bus fixed or is able to help with supplies please donate via this page. Every penny helps and will immediately impact 87 kids whose only escape for five hours a day is this school. I can't stress enough how important this school is to these children. As I share more stories with you over the course of this week and do my best to explain how powerful this school is going to be in the lives of students I bring to volunteer here next summer, I know it will become very clear.</div>
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Today was a solid beginning, although it was unfortunate that the students weren't able to be there it actually gave us a priceless opportunity to thoroughly understand the inner workings of the school. My amazing team of volunteers assembled for this trip consist of Aja, Sarah, Anna and Alaida. Sarah, Anna are Aja are teachers from the United States. Sarah has her Master's in Special Education, Anna has her degree in Secondary Education and Aja has a degree in Spanish. Alaida is originally from Nicaragua and is translating along with Aja. I am incredibly grateful for this creative, positive and caring group of volunteers. The passion of these volunteers along with the foundation that the teachers from the school have created, with next to nothing, gives me an extreme feeling of hope. I know without a doubt that this will be a meaningful and life-long partnership between this school and Children's Global Alliance. From the very first time I visited this school I have had an overwhelming feeling that I am exactly where I am supposed be doing what I was born to do. Until tomorrow....</div>
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Lots of love,</div>
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LM</div>
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</div>Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-68478758839251594942011-10-06T08:26:00.000-07:002011-10-06T19:49:39.789-07:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Julisa</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mirian, Clara and Franklin</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clara, 12 years old, Rivas, Nicaragua</td></tr>
</tbody></table>As part of the experience I am working to create for future student volunteers in Nicaragua we will be digging a little deeper. I have spent the last five months living in this country and working to uncover those who truly need help the most. There are parts of this country that are saturated with volunteer groups, here for a weekend, and helping the family who gives the best sob story without doing any research. I hate to sound negative but it is reality and part of the reason I decided to create my own non-profit. This behavior is dangerous and does more damage than good in the long run. The people here that need the help are plentiful but you must do your due diligence to find them. Those that really need assistance aren't asking for handouts, they are too busy working around the clock and barely scraping by. I was able to visit the home of one of these families this week.<br />
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After months of research and preparation I was led to the home of Franklin, Clara and their mother Mirian. As we pulled up outside the tiny home I had no idea what to expect. I was only told that the two children, ages 12 and 13 were too disabled to attend the special needs school. We were tagging along with a woman from the Ministry of Families to do a surprise check up to make sure the children were being taken care of, fed, and not being abused. We walked in the home and were greeted by the children's mother with a warm and undefeated smile. The crib the children stay in took up most of the room and was about the size of a twin bed. I looked over the edge of the crib and there they were, both laying on their backs, wearing diapers and so very small. I had to confirm their ages again because they appeared to be about 3 and 5 years old. Franklin is 13 and Clara is 12. They can't talk, they only drink baby formula and they can't walk or sit up. Their feet are twisted and there was a complete lack of motor skills. They have been in that crib for 12 and 13 years....side by side. The feeling I got when seeing this and still seeing a smile on their mother's face is comparable to having the wind knocked out of you. It hurts, you kind of want to cry or throw up and it takes a while to feel normal again. Their mother, Mirian, was left by the children's father when the children were very young. She has been doing this on her own and works doing whatever it takes so she can continue to buy formula and diapers for her children. She is a street vendor and doesn't keep normal hours but works simply until there is enough money. The government gives her a food basket every month that consists of basics like rice, beans and oil..things the children cannot digest but it helps to offset the cost for her to feed herself. Clara was able to have some physical therapy for two years and did show some improvement but the cost of transportation was too great and her mother could not afford to continue with it. When we ask about their diagnosis we are told that Clara was born with a brain lesion and Franklin was born with a heart murmur. I am not a doctor, but there was a lot more going on than that and it's obvious that these children have never been properly diagnosed. When I look around her broken down yet happy home and ask her what she needs her only request is for someone to come to her home and teach her therapy techniques she can do for her children. Again the punch to the stomach feeling completely overwhelms me and it also confirms that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Mirian is the real deal.<br />
<br />
We pull up to another home a few minutes away that consists of two rooms that are slightly bigger than an average sized bathroom. We were met with a little resistance from a woman, Yessenia who is the mother to Julisa, the person we are there to visit. Julisa was born with brain paralysis. I walk in her home and she is sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. She is in a red shirt, covered by a towel from the waist down and we are told they are out of diapers, Julisa is 21 years old. She appears to be about 13 and can't talk, walk or do anything for herself. She is able to sit up and to smile and we are told all she wants to do is sleep. Up until three years ago she was being cared for by her grandmother who took incredible care of her and loved her wholeheartedly. Sadly, her grandmother passed away leaving Julisa's mother to take care of her. The woman from the Ministry of Families had received word that Julisa's mother had been abusing her, we were there to confront her. Slightly awkward? You better believe it. The vibe in this house was completely different than the one before. It was dirty, unkept and it just felt like a heavy, sad place. I held Julisa's hand while her mother was being questioned, wishing that she could speak to me, tell me anything. When I let go and stood up she began smiling and laughing...it was beautiful. Her mother denied the allegations in fear of losing her food basket every month. She told us about the weekly enemas she has to give her daughter so that she can go to the bathroom and the sleeping pills she gives to her. What a heart breaking mess, Julisa is obviously in desperate need of some medical attention. My brain has been on overdrive trying to put together a way to get her the help she needs.<br />
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After the home visits we ended our day at the Escuela Especial Sor Maria Romero, the school for special needs children. The children come running out giving out endless hugs and enormous smiles. We sat with the co-director of the school and gathered information for our upcoming volunteer teachers who will arrive on Oct 16th. I also made a list of supplies that the school needs. For example, the deaf children all share one sign language book that looks like it's been torn apart and glued back together. They also need wide pencils because they are easier to hold onto and I am going to have tons of fun trying to find braile books...in spanish.<br />
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I have been fortunate enough to have a front row seat to observe what happens when you can get people to volunteer, care and become emotionally attached to someone they have just met. When the feeling and experience are so profound it creates a feeling inside of you that you can never forget and no matter where you are in the world the memory of someone less fortunate that you were able to help is never far from your thoughts. This is what keeps me going. Children like Franklin, Clara and Julisa are unforgettable and have survived astronomical odds having been born disabled in a third world country. I can't wait to share this experience with student volunteers, it will be impossible for them to not be affected. One smile is all it took for me to fall in love and it's the exact same feeling I had in Cambodia.<br />
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None of this would have been possible without my translator and dear friend Sarah Baldovinos. She has graciously gone to great lengths to help me put this all together. From the bottom of my heart, thank you Sarah.<br />
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Lots of love,<br />
<br />
LM<br />
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Please visit our new website http://www.childrensglobalalliance.org<br />
***The volunteer teachers are having a fundraiser for their upcoming trip and school supplies this Sunday (Oct. 9th) in Denver. email me for details. www.childrensglobalalliance@gmail.comLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-12588367965382424062011-05-27T07:35:00.000-07:002011-05-27T07:44:55.194-07:00Last day part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKmoMJ87Pwg_byl4Y5HzVZRBLOIn6p_pNgoM-th-3xw-quBfp1YeoOSqI2VOQpP-GoNMWIqGUrCHw0N-jKky6XSC3U9S_T9YheJwCBT0MTLwJje7b03rN7dIQDFccesQNNAkZvWInxgjq/s1600/orphanage+349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKmoMJ87Pwg_byl4Y5HzVZRBLOIn6p_pNgoM-th-3xw-quBfp1YeoOSqI2VOQpP-GoNMWIqGUrCHw0N-jKky6XSC3U9S_T9YheJwCBT0MTLwJje7b03rN7dIQDFccesQNNAkZvWInxgjq/s200/orphanage+349.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>Every time you leave, you leave it all there. You leave every ounce of your heart, energy, sweat and more sweat to those orphaned children. You become emotionally stripped to your core. The last day is undoubtedly the most intense of them all. Exuding the amount of effort to provide them with what they need and deserve each and every day takes it's toll, in nothing but a positive way.<br />
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Our last day at the orphanage was the absolute definition of bitter sweet. The day started and of course ended with my weak and overworked tear ducts in action. After that rough morning with Chantim we took our last adventure to the Russian market to gather our party supplies. Hula hoops, bowling pins, party hats, games and other necessities were bargained for and purchased. Squeezing all seven of us back into one tuk tuk with all the supplies was quite a spectacle. We got it together and took our traveling clown show back to the orphanage. After dropping off round one of surprises Jen and I headed off to "Pizza World" to pick up 25 piping hot pizza's and ice cold Coca-cola's. We received a greeting at the orphanage warmer than the pizza's and our whole group pitched in to swiftly serve the children. Having an unconditional love for pizza is definitely a global thing, you have no idea how exciting this was for them. I personally think it's just as exciting to watch them devour it all while they smile so big it makes it hard for them to even chew. Their meals typically consist of rice, three times a day so you can imagine their gratitude and delight. To really bring it home we followed up the pizza with banana splits complete with chocolate, whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles.<br />
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Throughout the day our students from Vail noticed and commented on how much more affectionate and clingy the kids at the orphanage had become. They understood it was because there was no guarantee new volunteers would be coming anytime soon and the that our time there was coming to an end. When would they get their next bath, hug or vegetable? You don't know and that is one of the most challenging parts of this experience. All day our team gave out a few months worth of hugs and kisses. The kids at the orphanage returned the favor with handwritten letters to each of us, bracelets they had made from string and of course, my favorite, lots of origamy teradactyls and horses. Our dance party was halted because of a broken speaker but we had danced enough the day before to make up for it....thank goodness because I was out of moves. I fought the tears until the lump grew too big in the back of my throat and I didn't have any fight left. I looked over and saw a shy boy named David starting to cry, he was hugging Anna who is 13 and one of our student volunteers from Vail. She was crying too and holding him like she could stay in that moment for a lifetime...that was enough. I watched one by one as the children started to cry, the moment had come.<br />
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I have had some very vivid and heavy dreams of this place since leaving it last year. Sometimes I swear I can actually feel my arms around them. The walk from the area we were in to the front gates where our tuk-tuk awaited was about 100 yards. On this night, that walk, took almost two hours. They tell you through their tears to, "please never forget them." It's one of the few things they can say in English which makes you hang helplessly on every syllable. If they only knew how impossible it would be to ever forget them. If they only knew that I carry them with me every day and have built my life's work and dreams around them. If they only knew the immeasurable power they have had over all of our lives. My last hug was reserved for Taupe, the boy who was blind and introverted when I had first met him last year. He had me at, "Hello, Sister." I had dreaded this moment almost as much as I had dreamt about it. I put everything down beside me and got down on my knees, exactly like I had done in my dreams. I hugged him so tight I could feel his heart racing against mine. There we were, lost in tears, the last thing I wanted to feel was the warm air creep in between us, time to let go. Torture.<br />
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It was dark when we climbed back into the tuk-tuk, we were surrounded by kids, all crying all grasping for one last squeeze. We rode away, we had all surrendered to the heaviness of the moment. No talking, just tears and reflection about the magnitude of what we had accomplished in just two short weeks. We had given them two weeks off from their typical lives, just trying to survive each day and they gave us a lifetime of lessons. As I looked around the tuk tuk and into the eyes of the students from Vail, Nina, Anna, Jack Tabor and Kassie and their teacher Mrs. Gutmann, this was my proudest moment. They had felt, they were affected, they were forever changed.<br />
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The capacity we have as human beings to love is extraordinary. These children teach you to recognize that, they are a living, breathing example of it. Once you understand and become able to tap into your unlimited resource of love there's no turning back. They force you to "get it." Your childhood, even if it was flawed, was never like it is for these kids. It makes you want to hug your family, never let them go and live next door to them forever. It makes you want to work harder in your own life to someday find the happiness that these orphaned children have found with nothing but their spirit.<br />
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The future of the Children's Global Alliance continues to shine bright. To be able to provide this experience to students from the U.S while simultaneously helping impoverished children around the world has been my most personal dream come true. This is still only the beginning. I want to provide this opportunity for as many students as possible and create and build relationships in other poverty stricken countries around the world. I want to do every thing I can to impact communities, lives and hearts and open the eyes of our future generation to the world around them. Thank you for your extraordinary support and more importantly, thank you for your love.<br />
<br />
LMLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-44876021419474497182011-05-01T17:41:00.000-07:002011-05-23T07:54:52.075-07:00Last Day, Part 1On our last day at the orphanage we were all working hard trying to keep ourselves from acknowledging the inevitable any way we could. The reality had set in with our group that this would be our last day, our last hugs would be given and the odds were not in favor of our students ever seeing the faces of these orphaned children, that now felt like family, ever again. If you stood still long enough and thought about leaving the orphanage, one last time, it was impossible to keep it together, so we kept ourselves occupied. So there we were, playing frisbee, polishing their nails, letting them braid our hair, anything to avoid letting that feeling creep in. I was busy running around spraying their pillows and bed mats with lice killing spray, first the boys room and then the girls. I told them it was to make it smell good and all their pillows they thought I was going to throw away (like last year) came out of hiding. When I walked upstairs into the girls room I saw someone covered with a blanket over her head and could see her body shaking...she was sobbing. She was accompanied by two older girls, one was trying to comfort her but she was also crying. This is a very rare sight to see as Cambodian as people rarely show emotion, I knew it was big. I maneuvered myself into the top bunk, praying it wouldn't collapse and asked what was wrong. None of the girls would tell me, they just sat and cried, so I did too. <br />
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Her name is Chantim and she is 15 years old. She sat up with her swollen eyes and tears all over her face and said, "No problem, Sister." She does not want to burden me. I begged her for answers through my tears. I asked one of the other girls if Chantim was sick and she says, "yes." Chantim insists she is not, tells me she is o.k. and covers herself again completely with the blanket. I ask the other girls how many days Chantim has been sick. They say, "Not days Sister...years, she has been sick for years." Again, my heart immediately gained 50 pounds. She never told me but we found out later Chantim has tuberculosis. She has been laying in that top bunk, fatigued and in pain for 3 years. Knowing she is keeping to herself, crying under that blanket and doing her best to not call attention to herself is heartbreaking. Even more heartbreaking is that Tuberculosis is completely curable if you are treated for it yet around 13,000 people die in Cambodia every year from the disease. It comes down to money. For Chantim, living in a home with 75 kids it is easy to get lost among them. Having a disease that requires treatment every day for two months is something she does not see as a necessity and knows it will take away from the money for their food and electricity. Her selfless strength takes my breath away.<br />
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I think about how different our worlds are and how real the problems are for these children. It is my inspiration and fuel to continue to work harder for their well being and continue to shed light on their situation to our children in America. When you are educated on the world around you then it becomes possible to create positive changes. It is my hope and ultimate wish that the students from Vail see the value in this type of work and continue it in some capacity throughout their lives. The words, "it's not fair" are constantly blaring in your thoughts when you spend time at the orphanage, it makes you incapable of using those words in your own life. Through their brilliant smiles they only allow you to see glimpses of their pain. A 15 year old does not deserve to suffer from a disease she caught because of living in poverty. She also does not deserve to be denied decent, trustworthy healthcare and treatment because of money. She is just one of 75 and it does get overwhelming to think you can't get to them all, the feeling is painfully indescribable and will overcome you if you let it. I strongly believe in life there is always more you can do and that our work helping others on this Earth is never, ever finished. Their stories and strength continue to keep me in awe.<br />
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to be continued.....Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-18061439348370707662011-04-28T04:00:00.000-07:002011-04-28T04:00:14.882-07:00Last year I wrote the following about a little girl named Dina:<br />
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<br />
"One of the greatest things about today was when Dina held on. As in, I picked her up to comfort her crying and she finally held on. At two years old Dina is the youngest of all the children at the orphanage and when we first arrived here she was always alone, off in a corner, crying. Her Mother is in jail for life for a crime she didn't commit. In a country as corrupt and broken as Cambodia this scenario plays out every day. What you don't see every day is the aftermath of an only child left behind, at two years old, to fend for herself. You look at her and you can actually feel the pain and weight of her heart. She has no one. Dina has only been at the orphanage for about a month and at just two years old it is obvious she has already suffered a broken heart. When I go home, if I am ever having a bad day I will be thinking of this little girl. The feeling I get from her smile and getting her to hold on may just get me through anything. I know she will be O.K, I couldn't have said the same even two weeks ago. It's a living example of our capability of being resilient even when we are paralyzed by fear and feeling all alone in this world."<br />
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Dina is now three years old, this morning when we arrived she ran full speed toward me, arms extended and called my name. She has done this almost every day we have been here. Instead of breaking my heart every time I look into her eyes, she melts it. She dresses herself, bathes herself, and holds her own against the other kids. She is a completely different child than the one I left last year. It's as if she has aged 8 years and now she smiles and laughs more than she cries. I wonder every day where a child this young finds this type of inner strength and peace when they have everything to cry about. Again, I have been schooled in life by a three year old. I fear that she will grow up at survival speed just as the others have. Since last year there are three more young girls that have come to live there, just like Dina. I suspect next time I visit I will be writing the same words about them.<br />
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Our group from Vail has grown more attached by the second. They don't want to leave these kids, this place, that love. Personally I don't know how I am going to do it either. I can confirm that it doesn't get any easier. Tomorrow is our last day at the orphanage and it already hurts us all, there were even some premature tears today as the thought set in of letting go. Even though our group is covered in heat rash, sunburn and bug bites they are looking beyond themselves to the moment they have to say their final good-byes. Just typing those words made my heart 50 pounds heavier. Having to leave, being chased down the street by kids one last time, absolutely crushes you. To ease the sorrow we are planning an all day party for tomorrow. Nothing a little glitter, bubbles, banana splits and a dance off won't temporarily remedy. Plenty of details, pictures and tears to follow. <br />
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I love you all,<br />
LMLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-33062083668657439382011-04-26T18:57:00.000-07:002011-04-27T03:17:17.873-07:00In case you were curious, an X-Ray at a hospital in Cambodia will cost you $10. Yesterday Bonlou jumped off a wall at school and thought he had broken his foot. He sat inside, insisting he was o.k, but his face said otherwise. His father died and his mother was addicted to drugs so he cared for her until he was removed from the home. They think she died shortly after he wasn't there to care for her anymore. This is his reality yet he somehow remains the most selfless, positive, incredible child I have ever known. Sometimes when I watch him with the other kids I get a giant lump in my throat. He deserves more.With Nina and I escorting him, he hopped on one foot with no shoes on all the way to the Dr. He winced in pain but not one complaint, he is 13 years old. We then had to travel from the Dr. to the hospital because an x-ray machine wasn't available. Hospitals in Cambodia are exactly like you are picturing in your head, awful and about 100 years behind any hospital you have ever visited. After a short wait they took him back for the x-ray, not only was there no lead vest to protect from radiation but the x-ray itself was developed with an actual hair dryer. In complete disbelief, I watched the man develop it and of course I took a picture to confirm I wasn't hallucinating. The diagnosis was a contusion which is a direct blow or blunt injury that causes injury to the blood vessels (ouch). We were grateful it wasn't broken. So $13.25 later we had three prescriptions and copies of the x-rays for Bonlou to keep as a trophy to show the other kids.. <br />
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Compared to last year Bonlou is less jovial and has taken on more adult responsibilities at the orphanage. He cooks, tends to the coal and cleans. He also cares for some of the 2 year-olds and fiercely protects them exactly as a parent would and exactly how he probably tried to protect his own mother. His work ethic does not compare to anything I have ever seen and he does everything with a smile. On top of it all he is ridiculously smart, his potential is enviable. It's incredibly frustrating to think of where or what he could become under different circumstances. I feel that way about all the kids at the orphanage but he stands out above them all. I have joked many times about running as fast as I can to the airport with him. It saddens me to think he is being forced to grow up so rapidly but all the children here have been forced to do so as well. For the 13 year old students from Vail to see what kids their age are held responsible for in this country was part of the inspiration to bring them here. It's amazing what occasion you can rise up to when your survival is on the line and when expectations are in place. It's my belief that kids in America are also very capable of accomplishing great things at a young age but are barely trusted to pack their own bags for school or even play alone outside. Here you see kids potty trained before they can walk because diapers just aren't in the budget. I know it's two different cultures and worlds but I think they just might be on to something here......Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-77015512482880780902011-04-26T03:53:00.000-07:002011-07-30T14:38:28.154-07:00I have never slept better. I am not sure if it's the ease of the anticipation and anxiety over bringing these two worlds together or the peace of mind that came with seeing that the orphaned children are safe, but I have been comatose the second I lay my head on my pillow, every night I have been here. The combination of watching the students from Vail, Nina,Tabor,Kassie Jack and Anna grow stronger and more aware each day and the daily struggles of the children at the orphanage has made my heart do some overtime. I asked the parents of the students to write their child a letter before we left that I would give to them sometime during this trip. I gave them those letters on Sunday night, which was Easter. The next morning Jack pulled me over to the computer to show me the letters he had already written back to each of his family members. I got about four words deep and teared up after reading this:<br />
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"Hey Dad tonight I got your letter, and it was a huge boost for me, thank you. I miss you very much and am excited to see you when I come home. You talk about how you are honored to be known as Jack's dad but I think its the other way around..... its me, honored to be Jim's son. Without you there is no me and you have given me everything that has made me successful. You are the smartest person I know and I get to live with you! I am proud to be known as Jim's son."<br />
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The letter went on, it was very touching to read and I am honored he let me. I know getting to experience the children at the orphanage who have no one to soothe them when they are sick or help them when they are hurt has been a real eye opener. You don't begin to realize your parents aren't built in fixtures in your life unless you don't have them and you can't even fathom appreciating what they do for until it's not there. Having parents who love and care for you is a privilege, the students from Vail have seen that now, first hand.<br />
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Today we worked hard. We made a pit stop at the market, trying to locate cleaning supplies, brooms, sponges and towels in the dirtiest Country on earth, not quite a piece of cake. Once we gathered everything we made one more stop at a vegetable stand to buy the orphanage another day's worth of food. Hanging pork loins covered in flies and odd looking vegetables made for an interesting conversation at the road side stand. We arrived at the orphanage ready for battle against dirt and germs and excited to feed them lunch. All the kids pitched in and our Vail students were right beside them like old pros. They were scrubbing walls, toilets and floors, as some of the little boys decided to slide across the floor on their stomachs with soap covered bodies and sponges on their hands and feet, it was a spectacle. After we cleaned the girls side we headed over to the boys and took care of business. With so many soapy bodies sliding back and forth across the floor it was done in no time! We ended the day with another round of de-licing and lots of loving on the kids. Goodbyes are getting much harder for our group....mission accomplished.<br />
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I am officially, deliriously happy. Sleep tight!<br />
<br />
xo,<br />
LMLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-87525937169691849202011-04-24T17:19:00.000-07:002011-04-24T17:19:56.064-07:00When you are transported to a place surrounded by children who's situation couldn't be farther from your own it helps if you understand their history. When you can empathize and respect what challenges they have faced you are put in a place where your problems simply disappear. Cambodia has fought to rebuild over the last 32 years from a regime that cut their population in half...by millions. Today I took the group to the S-21 genocide museum where hundreds of thousands of Cambodian men, women and children were tortured and killed. This massacre ended only 31 years ago but it is responsible for the devastating poverty and 200,000 orphans that exist in the country today. Rithy, the director of the orphanage, had his entire family brutally killed and was orphaned himself during this time. The orphans don't have Grandparents or any family lineage for that matter because they were killed ruthlessly by the Khmer Rouge. Having their faces to correlate with such a devastating history makes quite an impact on you. This orphanage is their only hope.<br />
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After the museum we headed back to the farm with a heightened sense of appreciation for what the orphaned children and their families have endured and overcome. There we stood, side by side, assembling a chicken coop roof in 100 degree heat, accidentally hammering our thumbs and having chicken peck our feet from time to time... not one complaint. We finished the coop and we have the farmer's tans to prove it! After the coop was finished we shoveled some fresh soil that had been delivered to fill a giant gaping hole in the back of the property. This required the kids to first pick out all the trash in the delivered soil, which is how it comes, they were shocked. Everyone pitched in and we had it done really fast. After we hosed off and hung up our boots (yes, we have them) we headed back to the orphanage. This was a really proud moment for me, the students continue to become more comfortable and impress me every day. They also have become very comfortable with discussing some strange bodily functions that typically occur in a third world country...it's progress!<br />
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After having the day off yesterday and visiting the National Museum and the Killing fields we are preparing for a full day at the orphanage. It's funny how you miss them after not being there for a day. It was also weird not coming home covered in dirt and Barbie stickers. Today I am going to do some research on a few new little ones that have arrived at the orphanage within the last six months. We will also be distributing some more donated supplies and clothes. Thank you all so much for all the effort that went in to collecting and sorting through them all, it was worth it. Also, thank you for all the encouragement and virtual high-faves, we couldn't do it without them. Make today great.<br />
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Love,<br />
LMLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-59307630130728340572011-04-20T23:51:00.000-07:002012-06-27T06:29:17.630-07:00All good things come to a beginning.......As you can imagine, there was quite a bit of preparation that went into this trip. Bringing to life the idea of shipping five students, a teacher and about 600 pounds of supplies from the U.S to Cambodia was quite the undertaking. With intense planning and more discussions about lice and travelers diarrhea than one should have in a lifetime, we did it! First there was the choosing of the students, then consent forms, followed by vaccinations, flights and fundraisers. Those things were relatively easy to prepare for because of the help of some extraordinary parents, friends and the passion of a teacher that matches my own. (thanks, Jen!) Unfortunately, we all know there are some things you simply cannot prepare for in life. For me, this moment I agonized over would be the moment I would see the orphans for the first time after not seeing them for a year. Throughout the last year I have dreamt about them, lost sleep over them and yearned ridiculously over seeing them again. I can tell you now that the moment was worth it all.<br />
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After traveling for 24 hours, losing power our first night and surviving on no sleep, all seven of us headed down that polluted dirt road to the orphanage. My adrenaline and nerves were impossible to keep in check. I envisioned jumping out of the back of the truck we were riding in and sprinting down the street but seven Americans squished into the back of a pick-up was already a spectacle...I held back. <br />
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I was overwhelmed with worry. Would they remember me? The sweaty girl in sunglasses with hyperactive tear ducts? I also worried some of them would be gone and feared they had run away. I was struggling with the thoughts and more worried that they would still be there.....still orphans. Then it happened! I heard my name coming from the gates of the orphanage, they shouted it, over and over.....they remembered!!! I could never articulate how completely incredible this was and ever do it any justice but I will say it was one of the most joyful and exhilarating feelings I have ever felt, EVER.<br />
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They were all there, just like in my dreams. Dina, Tida, Kyn, Kim, Bonlou and then I found Taupe, in bed. I hugged him and exhaled a year's worth of anxiety, he was half asleep, I was deliriously happy. I hugged them all. I tried to keep it together but It was such a sense of relief to see for myself that they are safe, the tears wouldn't give a girl a break. It's a funny thing when you leave a situation better than you found it because there is always a fear that things will revert back to the way they were once you are gone. It makes you feel like you never want to leave and you can't get back fast enough. I am happy to say that all that we worked so hard for last year has been maintained.<br />
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The students from the U.S are adapting well and just this morning were using lice combs on some of the children and acting as if it was a completely normal activity. We worked half the day on the farm yesterday, we were covered in chicken poop, garbage and sweat by noon. This afternoon we are heading back to the farm to keep them on track to becoming self sustainable. We bought the supplies to build a new chicken coop roof and the pigs have been ordered! <br />
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I am so lucky to be able to do this, this is absolutely my purpose in life and I wouldn't be able to accomplish any of it without the support and encouragement from you. THANK YOU!Lisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343625163189167333.post-18161520016025088022010-12-01T14:20:00.000-08:002010-12-02T12:01:25.507-08:00I have just returned from a month in Central America where I was fortunate enough to work with children living in poverty while simultaneously overcoming another hilarious language barrier with five-year-olds. The experience was extremely eye opening and powerful but surprisingly it was more informative than emotional. This worked out well for me because my tear ducts have just barely recovered from Cambodia. I definitely had many "moments" with the children but Central America is leaps and bounds above Southeast Asia as far as government assistance and suitable facilities for orphaned children. They have decent living conditions, toys, basic hygiene practices and receive three nutritious meals a day. The children clearly had been given more but were not nearly as content as the children in Cambodia...interesting. This proves to me further that when the abundance of love and gratitude outweigh the "stuff" in your life you will be happier. I was able to work not only in an orphanage but also in a kindergarten class, at a public school and two different day care centers for children from single mothers living below the poverty line. Although I was partial to the orphanage, being able to see the swings made from rice bags and rope and homemade books and bubbles at the day care centers gave me many projects to keep in my arsenal for the future. Experiencing the rural city of Ciudad Quesada in the center of Costa Rica has given me so much knowledge to use upon my return to the orphans in Cambodia. It was inspirational to see a living example of what can be creatively accomplished with little resources and some basic support from the Country. My goal is to eventually create a volunteer experience in Central America and also in Cambodia for students from the U.S to participate in. Central America is a work in progress but Cambodia is here!<br />
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On October 29th five students from Stone Creek Charter school in Avon, Colorado were chosen to participate in the April 2011 trip to Cambodia. They each submitted essays and endured an interview process, complete with many tearful moments, to be considered for this opportunity. I was completely speechless over the compassion, composure and true heart these children displayed. They have each committed to raising $1,000 per student to help fund their trip. They have hit the ground running and are currently doing individual and group fundraisers throughout the community. If you would like to help these children reach their goal you may donate via this blog. In Cambodia they will be working hands on in an orphanage, teaching, playing, loving and making a true difference in the lives of these impoverished children. Yes, of course this will be the same orphanage I worked in earlier this year. They will be side by side with Taupe, Dina, Tita and all my other little reasons for living. In return they will each grow bigger than they ever thought possible and individually be tested to reach their full potential. This experience will change their lives, open their eyes and more importantly their hearts. They will keep individual blogs throughout their journey and become youth ambassadors and mentors for students on future trips for CGA. I am grateful that these students are so incredibly dedicated and committed to helping these children they have never met in a country they have never been to. I think I have clued them in enough that at the conclusion of their journey this place and those kids will be impossible to forget.<br />
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I will keep you informed on our fundraising efforts and progress. I will be gathering children's clothing and medical supplies prior to our trip, so if you are interested in donating let me know! This is truly a dream come true and I would like to take this opportunity to thank the parents of Jack, Nina, Kassie, Anna and Tabor, the students chosen for this trip, for their support and enthusiasm for this organization. Also, a big Thank you to Mrs. Gutmann, a teacher at Stone Creek Charter School, and my friend, for believing enough in my vision and her students to make this trip a reality. <br />
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Lots of love,<br />
Lisa MarieLisa-Marie Provohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05273926707410113331noreply@blogger.com2