Untukmu Para Pengunjung

Scott and Emma’s (streaker) love story is a very nice viral for clothing company rare|wear. You can watch the video on the campaign microsite www.believeindestiny.com where users are also engaged to submit their own love stories.
The company behind it is rare/wear

Yesterday I spent some time talking with a strong woman who lost her 5 1/2 year old son last year to cancer. He was her only child. My heart was breaking as she told me about his last words and moments, and how much she misses him. She also misses her identity as a mother. Are you still a mother if your only child dies? You still feel like a mother, and love like a mother. It's unfortunate that there are so many grief "myths" in society. Like, "don't talk about the person who has died because it will trigger them and make them sad." But she wants to talk about her son, and obviously she's always thinking of him anyway. People often try to give a reassuring platitude like, "you can still have other children" because these platitudes may make the speaker feel better, but they really offer no help to the grieving person. I have learned a lot about bereavement and grief in this past year. Children dying is so wrong though - I can't get used to it. And I really feel for parents who lose their children.

Speaking of mothers on a happier note, a big congratulations to my friend Magda and her husband Sebastian on little Anna Katarina - she's half Colombian and half Polish, and what a cutie!

Sorry I have been away so long, I have been creating www.fuelmyblog.com , now I have relaunched it and I think it looks great.

So, after reading over 2000 blogs I have decided to change directions with this blog.

From now on, I am going to review restaurants and bars in La Rochelle and London.

If you have been to any, feel free to mail me your review.

They will be honest reviews so if you own a restaurant or bar and see the review here and don't like it, make sure you get it right next time we visit!

The whole "living on less than a dollar a day" idea has captured people's imaginations for years, and NGOs have used it to try to make reality hit home for people. You know things are tough when a dollar a day seems like a pretty good deal. Last night I was talking with a neighbour. Her husband makes the equivalent of just over $3 US per MONTH. This is his pension - after 25 years of work with the same company. Some well-wishers pay for their rent, but that $3 has to cover water, electricity, medical bills, transport, and food for the month. They weren't one of the lucky ones to get a farm, and she has a small garden in the backyard. She was telling me about the dramatic price increases in everyday items, and seriously contemplating the possibility of starving to death. I sat beside her as she wept. This wasn't a lady I was watching on t.v. I couldn't change the channel and switch to a comedy. This was a neighbour and a friend - considering a future which includes starving to death. Of course I went home and brought over some food and money. But my friend still had that far-away, "is there hope?" look on her face. Poverty is a harsh reality. We all know it exists.

Happy one year wedding anniversary to my brother Josh and his lovely wife Jenn!

Despite being sick, I had a lovely day yesterday. Our friend celebrated his 30th birthday, so we had cake, and listened to him reflect on his life. He was orphaned at a young age and then lived on the streets for years. Now he's got a steady job, but struggles with alcoholism. He was marvelling yesterday at making it to the age of 30, and wondering how his life would have turned out differently had he taken one wrong turn. I asked him what has sustained him throughout all his struggles and he said, "prayer" right away. "There was a man who used to come talk to us on the streets and bring us food. He would even sleep there with us through the night for safety, but he always insisted that we pray."

Then I got to hold a brand new baby! OK, here's a confession... we have a maid. She comes to our house one morning a week and cleans. When we first moved here, I insisted that we were not going to have a maid, because it just seems so bourgeois! But everyone here has maids (all the officers, all our neighbours, etc.) and they were saying that we were being really selfish by not hiring someone because so many people are unemployed. So, Esnath comes once a week to clean our little house. She cleaned all the floors on Thursday and then Friday night she had her baby (she's a remarkable woman!) The baby is SO cute! What a miracle to hold a little life that was not yet 24 hours old! And then in the evening we had some friends over for one of John's gourmet meals and some really nice conversation. I love sharing life with people.

We've posted some pics in the photo gallery of the Zimbabwe School of Youth Leadership orientation (some nice photos of the beast we killed!) and our trip a few weeks ago to the Chinhoyi caves. There are certainly some beautiful places in Zim.

When I was a kid, I believed that the police were on my side, fighting the bad guys and keeping me safe. When I moved to Regent Park, I learned that most of the kids have a bad relationship with the police (even though the police are making some sincere efforts to change this). All of a sudden, I started averting my eyes whenever I saw police - not because I have ever done anything particularly illegal, but because all the other kids were doing it. And now I'm in Zim. The other day, a friend was telling me about being beaten with batons by police just for walking by himself late at night down an empty street. When he heard the police, he thought about running, but then he realized they had guns. So, he waited and got beaten. They thought he must have stolen something. A group of church friends were arrested the other day. They were on a street corner saying good-bye to one another, when the police accused them of a breaking a certain law which prohibits more than 5 people congregating in one place without specific permission. This police officer drunk, looking for a bribe, and maybe just wanted to show off his power, but he did bring them all the way to the police station. I think I like my childhood perspective of the police better. Lust for power is an ugly thing.