Thankful for 2008

I've tried a few different times to create a list of memories from 2008 that I am thankful for, and each time I do, I get overwhelmed. There are so many things I'm grateful for and so many things that have happened. I seem to be at a point in life where things are constantly changing and sometimes it's hard for me to even keep up.

But, to keep on theme with this blog, I've realized that I am most thankful for my journey to Africa. I remember reading before our trip from a book "assigned" to us by Geoffrey, the team leader. There was a sentence that stuck out to me, and to paraphrase from memory, it said "the journey from head to heart was much farther than the journey from the US to Africa"

How incredibly true that sentence rings true. It was, and still is, a journey from what I think I know, to what only the heart can truly know and experience.

I am so thankful for all the people who opened their lives to me during this trip - my teammates, Barrett and Rachel, Surafel, but most importantly the Ethiopians I met. When I look back on 2008, the year of 20-yr old Melissa, I think those are the faces and the memories that will stick out the most.

What a year!

I Need Africa More Than Africa Needs Me

“I Need Africa More Than Africa Needs Me”

If someone had told me a year ago I would utter the above sentence and believe it with all my heart, well, I probably would have called them slightly crazy. I would have thought something along the lines of, “What? I need Africa more than it needs ME? You have to be kidding me. I live in America. What more could I want? I have so much to give. What about those starving children? What about all those wars and conflicts? How can I need Africa more than it needs me? Doesn’t it need my help? Are you crazy?!?”

And yes, I am slightly crazy. Crazy in love with Africa. I went to Ethiopia this summer and tried my hardest to go without expectations, without feeling self-righteous about the whole affair. But I did go with expectations. I expected to give the little orphans my donations and see their eyes light up and know I had just made their entire year.

But what actually happened what something I never expected. I fell in love. My heart broke into a million little pieces and only those breathtakingly loving and beautiful Africans knew how to put it back together. Yes, I saw some hard things. I encountered unthinkable and heartbreaking situations. And while those images and situations stay in my mind and often keep me awake at night, they are not the first thing that I think of when I hear someone say “Africa.”

I first think of joy. I think of the joy on the children’s face as they sat under a tin roof, while the rain absolutely POURED outside, and sang and danced with all the foreingees (Amharic word for foreigners/whites). Those kids were being “just kids” more than any kid I have ever seen in the US.

I think of calmness and peace. I think of how complete I felt sitting on the roof of our guesthouse late at night, breathing in the African air, and reflecting on the day and anticipating the next. I think of those children that stole my heart and how content I would be to just sit with them again all day, playing games and holding their hands.

Yes, Africa needs our help. The little $7 a month I give to Mocha Club goes such a long way. I’ve seen the school it’s building in Ambo. I’ve held the hands of two boys who are students there. I still feel their hands in mine. But, when it comes down to it, I need Africa more than it could ever imagine needing me. I need Africa to know what love and joy is. I need Africa to feel at home with myself. To understand what a blessing truly is. I need Africa to truly understand HOPE and JOY and LOVE.

I NEED AFRICA MORE THAN IT NEEDS ME

But, what about you?

Mocha Club, an organization that asks you to donate a small $7 a month (the equivalent of about two mochas...so like giving up mochas for Africa, get the name?), has just launched a new campaign on the topic. Check it out. Start a convo. Buy a t-shirt and support a cause of your choice: https://www.mochaclub.org/mochaclub/i_need_africa

And, if you want to take the extra step, then join Mocha Club. Start your own team and get your friends to join in. Or, join my team: https://www.mochaclub.org/joinme/mkohne

Thank you so much for reading this!
I hope it sparks a thought and that you start a dialogue about it.


I know I have posted this before, but I am going to leave you with a song that I only truly began to understand while falling asleep to it each night in Africa:

10,000 Children
By Dave Barnes

“10,000 children and all I can do is just talk,
When my house is full of possessions that negligence bought,
Everyone tells me that I’m not to blame,
Why do I still feel the same?

Only love can save us all.
Only love can save us all.
Save us all.

10,000 children are my invitation to change.
To continue in excess now suddenly feels oh so strange.
Prayers and money should not be confused,
But I pray that both still are used.

Only love can save us all.
Only love can save us all.

What will become of me?
Hands tied by history?

10,000 children and all I can do is just talk.”

The Team I Love So Much

I have been missing my team members lately. I miss their hearts and their kindness. I miss how well we all meshed together. How much we laughed. Oh, and laugh we did.

Here's a video of Elizabeth. This girl makes me laugh. Lots:

She doesn't like to be confrontational or angry. She laughs continually. Geoff thought having her say "I'm so angry" would help her. Well...it did help for an entertaining bus ride.

Geoff and Elizabeth and I had a fun experience in downtown London our last night:

A Downtown Chicago Experience

This past weekend I had an interesting experience that keeps getting played over and over in my brain. I was sitting in downtown Chicago on a bench waiting for my bus to come to bring me back home. I had just come off a great weekend that involved very little homework, so I pulled out my book to read, put in my iPod and starting getting in the groove. All of a sudden I heard a guy walking up to me. He called out before approaching me and didn't want to scare me at all. I think the first thing he told me, and repeated numerous times, was that he wasn't a street person, that he had a $34/hr job as a plumber, and that he needed help. His truck tire had a hole in it, he needed to run to the nearest BP to buy the right stuff to patch the hole, and he didn't have any cash on him or his card to get cash from the nearby ATM. He asked if I wouldn't mind borrowing him some cash and if I gave him an address, he would send it back to me.

I ended up taking $60 out of the ATM and refusing to get paid back. Instead I gave him my Mocha Club url and told him to give the money back to Mocha Club. To join my team if he wanted. That Mocha Club and my trip was the reason I would ever do something like this. I sincerly hope he does it.

I know many hearing/reading this will think I am stupid. Giving a complete stranger $60? Would you think I was more stupid if that stranger was homeless and couldn't afford to give anything back? Probably. It doesn't bother me that he may never return the favor to me. It doesn't bother me that I will never see that money again.

What haunts me a little bit about the whole experience is how he felt the need to assure me over and over that he wasn't homeless. That he had a good job. That he was trustworthy. Isn't it sad that the first thing he said to me was that he wasn't homeless and had a job so I wouldn't be afraid for him to approach me? What kind of country do we live in that the meer fact that someone doesn't have a roof over their head means they are dangerous? That we are more willing to help out someone who has an 8-5 job than someone who doesn't and who needs our help more? When did we all get so freaking cautious and judgemental that we don't help those in need of it?

In all honesty, I have been waiting to give back to the community. I know that fella thinks I helped him out a lot. But I felt so grateful to be in the position to help someone out, to make an impact no matter how small, and to genuinely care about a stranger. That was who I was in Ethiopia. I'm not allowed to be that very often here at home. I am judged for it. I am thought to be unsafe and stupid if I talk to a homeless person. If I smile at someone. When did we forget that the other humans walking next to us are humans as well? That they have names and stories and deserve to be recognized.

I'm sorry if this post came off as harsh or condenscending. I don't mean it to be at all. This is not how I think everyone else should feel but how I personally feel. I only write it to share my feelings.

Some Video Inspiration

Yes, I'm a child on the "technology century" and rely on technology and video to help me articulate life. These videos speak for themselves.

First, a Dave Barnes song "10,000 Children." I listened to it every night before falling asleep in Ethiopia. I could finally put faces to those children. Wow. "10,000 children and all I can do is just talk." Take a listen for yourself:


Second, a video of Barrett Ward explaining the Mocha Club school project in Ambo. I recognize so many of these faces. And am SO excited that if people join my mocha club team (www.mochaclub.org/joinme/mkohne), the money goes towards finishing this exact school!


That's all for now...more videos coming soon that I took myself on the trip!

Things I give up

When my team met in Dallas for training (pictured above), we spent some time reading in the bible and reflecting on it. The particular passage we read focuses on not complaining. As we discussed this passage and our expectations for the trip, our training leaders suggested we all create a list. We were to create a list of things we were "giving up." The things we were surrendering and not longer having the right to. I dug through some stuff and finally found my list that I wrote out on that day, July 1st, in Dallas; here, I'll try to translate it to typed text as best as I can:

I'm giving up my right to:

- complain about the weather or other uncontrollable, insignificant things

- get enough sleep every single night

- be stagnant & ignore my journey of faith

- pick & choose who I think I should/would be friends with or get along with & instead be open to everyone

- talk about myself before listening to others

- worry about things after the trip (wedding, zoo, boys) that I can't control

- be picky about my food (spicy, coffee, etc...)

- plan and be on schedule - know what's ahead

- hot shower

- to stay dry & comfortable

I look back at that list and think about how I had to give up those things, surrender my right to be picky or to worry, to be able to fully experience Ethiopia. Without worrying or giving in to these trivial things, I was able to be completely present in the moment as possible - to let it all sink in and to give of myself, my attention, to these people as fully as I could. I look back at the list and realize how many of those things I did give up.

"get enough sleep every single night"

My mind wanders back to a night spent in the guest house (pictured above). I was downstairs journaling in the living room, as Keith journaled in a chair across from me and Geoff sat engrossed in his book. It was probably well past midnight already and I was in desperate need of sleep. The two soon finished their tasks and headed up to bed, but I stayed for what I thought would only be a bit longer. Another team member, Sarah, soon came down and we found ourselves talking until almost 2am (knowing we had to get up by 7:30 or so). That time together really was the start of our friendship though and was needed. We needed to be present and caring towards one another. Sleep could wait."be picky about my food"

Well, I was in Ethiopia where coffee was discovered. Nevermind I had probably only drank 3 cups of coffee in my whole life, I decided to embrace the culture and had coffee every time it was offered. You know what? I didn't absolutely love it, but I did enjoy it. It was all part of experiencing the country and was worth it. We even had the privelage of experiencing two coffee cermonies. The one pictured above was in our guest house, put on for us by Tigis, one of the guest staff, on our very last night in the country.

"to stay dry & comfortable"

On our last day of ministry, we went back to Hannah's Orphanage. This was our third day at the location and we went to help the children with their chores. The "chores" at one point entailed our eleven person team helping to wash dozens of children's clothes. We had probably six basins of soapy water that team members would scrub the clothes in, then another 4 basins of rinse water, and then lines upon lines of clothes. It was raining and dreary out. At the end of the endeavor, my back hurt and my sweatshirt, shoes, and shirt were completely soaked through. I was neither dry nor comfortable. What I was instead was content. I had been able to do something that I knew was a service to these people...a small token of thanks for sharing their lives with me.
"hot shower"

I specifically remember taking a shower in the Ambo hotel (view from our balcony posted above). The water was absolutely freezing. Sooo, very cold. I could barely handle the water. I found myself complain in my head about how cold it was. And then I stopped. I realized how incredibly selfish I was. Here, I had just spent the day with people who didn't even have running water in their homes most likely and I was complaining that I had to endure a cold shower, one day out of how many days? That's when the tears starting falling.

Now that I'm back home and have gotten back into the "flow of things," I have noticed myself falling back into habits. Habits like complaining about the weather or traffic. Why? There is no need. I have no control over the situation. I have to continually remind myself that the list of things I "gave up" before going to Africa doesn't need to be reclaimed again. I can be that person I hoped to be on my trip while I am back home. I hope and pray that I can always strive to be that person.

Making Sense of it All

I know I haven't written much since my return. I apologize. I could blame it on being busy, but that is not entirely the case. It is more because I am at a loss of words. I'm scared of not doing justice to the wonderful and beautiful souls I met. I'm scared you'll get bored reading it. There is so much bottled up inside of me concerning this trip that I'm at a loss at where to begin. So I'll just begin somewhere easy:

Meet my friend, a precious little girl I met at Kachene Study Center. Her name escapes me at the moment; even if I could remember it I wouldn't be able to spell it correctly. My team spent a total of three days at the Kachene Study Center in the heart of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. The center is for kids who are orphaned but still live with extended family, whether that be an aunt, uncle, grandma, etc... It provides a safe haven for the kids and allows the family members to have time to work without worrying about the kids. Think of a Boy's and Girl's Club in the U.S.

The first day of ministering in Ethiopia we visited Kachene and just spent some time with the kids. Then we left the capital (Addis Ababa) for a few days. Upon our return to Addis we returned to Kachene for two more days. This little girl caught my eye right as I hopped off the bus on that second day. She instantly jumped into my open arms. I got asked by Sister Amoss (the founder and lady in charge) to help take some pictures of the kids so I had to set the little one down. She just stayed nearby and watched as I worked with Sister Amoss for at least 40 minutes. When finished I looked over and waved her over and she came running to me. She didn't leave me for the entire day.

The next day we visited Kachene's again. This time the girl saw me probably before I saw her and again came to hold my hand and hangout for the day. This girl had so much attitude and sass and giggles in her. She was a riot to be around and made me smile so much. Her hugs were precious and her giggle made you start laughing instantly.

She stands out in my mind for her tremondous amount of joy and laughter. You'd forget she had gone through a hard life of losing her parents and lives in poverty. Yet, that's the way the people of Ethiopia are: so incredibly joyful and loving despite the hardship. If I learned anything while in the country, that was it.