AfricanKelli

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Dear President Mugabe,

I know we haven’t seen eye to eye in the past. I can’t understand how you are still in power, how you’ve ruled Zimbabwe my entire life. I don’t know why your country, once called the breadbasket of Africa, has such a life-threatening issue with hunger today. I really can’t comprehend how a nation so rich — with some of the best universities, hospitals and businesses in sub-Saharan Africa — could crumple in such a short period of time.

Today, it’s cholera. You’ve pushed your people around for more than 20 years. You’ve run out the white Zimbabweans, stolen their land, killed those who refused to leave and ruined your economy in the process. You’ve created one of the most impressive brain drains in the history of man. I spoke with a friend from Zimbabwe last weekend. He teaches at the seminary in Harare. He makes $50 a month, which doesn’t cover the cost of going to and from the school daily.* The economy you’ve led has the highest inflation internationally — at something absurd like 1000%. How can that be? How can money be printed with an expiration date? A billion dollar bill? Really Bob, even you can do better.

You have single-handedly ruined this nation and the world has stood by, watching with a lazy, voyeuristic eye. I’m not sure which is the bigger disgrace. News is today that your reign of cruelty may soon be coming to an end — only because once again your people are suffering. Today it is cholera, as if the hunger, soaring HIV rates and severe poverty weren’t enough. While the world watches the tragedies and violence in India, Pakistan and the Middle East, I’ll continue screaming about Zimbabwe. This is nothing short of an African holocaust that the world is once again ignoring. We’ve learned nothing from Rwanda, Sudan or Somalia.

Mr. Mugabe, I am a person who doesn’t hate. I try to find something good in everyone. But for the life of me, I simply cannot see the silver lining of you breathing another breath.

May your people rise and may the world finally respond. May Zimbabwe once return to its state of grace and honor as a fruitful, healthy and beautiful country. May peace reign in Zim!

~Kelli

*{I begged him to let me come work in Harare next summer and he agreed. If I am allowed in the country, there is an opportunity for me to work in one of the many orphanages.}

I have been working unbelievable hours and doing so happily. I am really enjoying my new job. That said, there are many weekend and evening activites that require my presence — whether just to stand there and shake hands, or to actually do some work — that have me running on fumes this week. Here it is, Saturday afternoon, and I’ve already been to and from the office twice to get a bit more done. Granted, I also managed a break to swing through my favorite bookstore for some holiday shopping and a trip to the local froyo shop too.

Good thing I don’t have children. I don’t know how my girlfriends with kids manage their families and careers. I am barely getting myself dressed and out the door.

Proof positive is my kitchen table, where I’ve been dropping off mail and pieces of Christmas projects all week. I won’t show you photos of my laundry room, where the dryer has been full of clean and now wrinkled clothing for days and towels are scattered about to air dry. Or my floors, which are a disaster. Or the garden, which this week is barely getting a single gulp of water — much less the Zen-like conversations I’d imagined having with my cilantro plants. As if.

Thankfully the schedule this week seems calmer and the holidays (with 5 days in Colorado) are right around the corner. Yippee-ay-ok-ky-A!

I did manage to sneak in some knitting a couple days ago during a conference. I sat in the back and quietly clicked away as the speakers presented on a variety of refugee-related topics, including a Holocaust survivor who had the room in tears by the time she left the stage. I wish I had an ounce of her survivor spirit; I more than likely wouldn’t be complaining about a job that is keeping me hopping during an otherwise dreary economy.

Plus, this knitting is for another custom-order Nudu cap, so I should be counting my lucky stars.

With that, I’ll go sit down to a slice of humble pie and bid you adieu. Happy weekend, friends!

~K

When I was in Malawi this summer, I bought two of these arks filled with animals (and a Noah/Noah’s wife), for Christmas presents. I gave one to my mom and the other to my Grandma Max on Thanksgiving. I knew they’d want to put them out with their nativities. They were pretty thrilled — especially my mama. She is an animal nut and quickly went through each of the pairs to examine their features.

I was so glad they liked these. They were a pain to haul home and make sure they weren’t broken in transit. Also, Malawian carvers in this area have a tendency to smoke pot while they work, making the drug dogs at the airports go nuts. Several of the people I was traveling with had lost items to customs from this and warned me. Thankfully, Noah worked his wonders and we made it home without incident.

I hope your holiday prep is going well! I’ve got my little tree and decorations in place and the bulk of my Christmas cards were mailed yesterday. I’m going to start wrapping this weekend. I want my home to be festive for next week’s community dinner.

~K

And a quick garden update:

Beets!

Onions!

Cilantro!

~K

Finally a chance to put out my Mozambican nativity! My dad asked if they were Aborigines. (They’d just seen Australia.)

Sunday, we lit the first candle in the Advent wreath at church. You know me — a sucker for sentimentality and tradition.  There is something about the ritual of Advent — the time leading up to Christmas — that makes me want to push pause and stop to really gather my thoughts, listen to my breath and feel the wind blowing and nature alive outside my front door. I want to reconnect with my spirit, which tends to get off course when I’m distracted by dozens of other shiny objects (Read: Holiday parties, work deadlines, piles of fabric stacked high, a bike begging for a ride.)

Advent means arrival in many senses. This season, I hope to arrive at a new place of balance. I hope for the arrival of grace when I’m caught in traffic, running behind, tired from too little sleep or stressed about holiday budgets. I pray for the arrival of peace in India, Iraq, Afghanistan and always close to my heart — Zimbabwe. I wish for the arrival of the end of hunger worldwide. I am counting on the arrival of a new sense of purpose in 2009, a clearer idea of what to do with my talents to make my community a bit better.

Thank you for being a great part of the journey.

~K

I’m not talking booze either. Why is it so miserably difficult to get back into routine after a few days of lounging? When my alarm went off this morning, I considered crying before anything else. It doesn’t help that it is dark, dark, dark and (Arizona) cold this time of year either.That said, I hauled my butt to the gym and felt better for doing so. I had one of the most topsy turvy Thanksgivings yet.

Yay! Let’s Have more Turkey List:

- Father/Daughter day was an A+, including time with 007 and catching up with the man I love most in this world.

- Peaceful, loving time with my mom. We have gotten along better on this trip than any in the last few years. I am savoring this and trying to keep the momentum going for our Christmas in Denver in a few weeks.

- Gobs of time to read (three novels!), nap, knit, sew, bake, run and two great bike rides, including one with Chris. He kicked my butt royally.

- Time with my girlfriends, including watching one man in particular impress my socks off at karaoke. “Sweet Caroline” will never be the same. Game  and pizza night was a kick too, although I know very little 1980s trivia and my team was a disaster.

- The garden is sprouting beets.

- My mom fixed my computer, among other random things that needed attention around the house.

- My dad “borrowed” my car and put new and much needed tires on it. Say it with me: spoiled rotten!

The Could Have Done Without List:

-Insensitive comments. We don’t live in the 1940 and it is not appropriate to stick your finger in my face and say “Shame on me” under any circumstance.

- Pie crust. Pastry grosses me out; I love to bake it and disgust eating it.

- Extended family drama, causing me to temporarily lose my marbles and cry for about 100 miles on I10. Yikes.

Some drama, but for the most part a great holiday. I hope your Thanksgiving also gave you a lengthy list of things to be grateful for.

~K