SKYDIVE SUCCESS!!

So, we did it!

Not only did we all jump out of a plane for the children and staff of Nkoaranga, we raised a fantastic sum of around £2,500....and donations are still coming in! Myself, Emily, Jasmine, Charlotte and Sorcha are so thankful to you for the help and amazing support you have given us and the motivation it provided us with in order to achieve this ‘dare-devil’ experience.

After an issue with the high winds that were over the limits in the morning, the disappointment that we felt when we were told we wouldn’t be able to jump at that point, highlighted for all of us how much we actually wanted to do this, not only for the children, but for ourselves and for you.

Travelling up to the Airfield went very smoothly. I was expecting something to go wrong at some point, that’s just ‘Murphy's law,’ right? But all went perfectly. We all met at the station, with the exception of Charlotte, who was at the airfield already with her mum and sister, arrived in March, taxied over to our accommodation where we stayed – the ‘rough and ready’ bunk cabin. Okay, so the level of comfort resembled something of that we received in Africa on occasion, but we were together. And doing this.

As much as we, and our amazing support crew and spectators on the ground, endured a 7 hour wait, my god, it was totally worth it!

This was one of the scariest experiences of my life so far but also one of the most spectacular. I was so full of emotion, frightened, happy and excited all at the same time.

As I sat on the edge of the door waiting to jump, my smile grew bigger and bigger. I could see the English countryside far off below me, the sky was magical, and probably one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. We were above the clouds and my thoughts were in Africa.

My instructor counted to three and we fell. It was surreal. As we were freefalling I looked up at the plane and couldn’t believe that I had actually jumped, willingly, happily from somewhere safe into oblivion. I must be nuts!!

The feeling of free falling is totally unexplainable, realising what in fact you are doing seems pretty crazy but it’s so relaxing and adrenaline pumping all at the same time.

The classic line; once I got to the bottom, I just wanted to go up and do it all over again....

Here, Emily explains the day’s events and her skydive experience.

On the train, as I sat there on my own, excited at the thought that I would be seeing everyone again in about half an hour, it started to hit me that I was going to be jumping out of a plane in less than 24 hours. This is when the nervous breakdown started. OK, so it wasn’t a real nervous breakdown, just a mini one. I started fidgeting, and shaking. I just couldn’t sit still or concentrate. My breathing had increased to a crazy amount and I started to feel really claustrophobic. So, I got up and stood by the doors, waiting for the train to pull into the station- I must have looked really eager as I stood there for about 20 minutes waiting.

We arrived at the bunk house. The whole situation felt like something out of a horror movie- it was pitch black, freezing cold and we kept hearing terrifying noises. We stayed in the ‘rough and ready’ bunkhouse and boy was it cold!! A combination of nerves, fear and coldness kept us tossing and turning all night, so when the alarm went off at 6:30 we weren’t feeling too peachy.

After getting registered for the jump the next morning and completing the training we sat waiting for our turn to skydive. Then the dreaded moment came, mine and Bethan’s names were called into the office and we knew this was it; it was time to jump out of a plane. We got all kitted up looking extremely cool in our jumpsuits, then Charlotte, Jasmine and Sorcha were called through- they were going to be on the flight after us.

Bethan and I started walking towards the plane with our instructors whilst everyone in the crowd cheered and waved us off. It was one of the single most terrifying moments of my life. We sat on the plane, hearts racing, breath short and fast, hands shaking. Then the plane started to move. We went to the end of the run way and I thought ‘Yeah, I think I can do this’, then the worst thing happened, the pilot shook his head. The wind had shot up to 30 miles per hour (way over the limit for skydiving) and we had to turn around and go back. Well, it’s fair to say that we were more than disappointed.

For the next 7 hours we sat around waiting and hoping that the wind would start to drop. More and more people decided to give up and go home and it was looking like all hope was lost. Then we overheard one of the instructors tell another one that “we were going”. We all jumped up excitedly; was this it? Were we actually going to get the chance to skydive? Or was he just telling his friend that he was going home?

The next thing we knew all of our names were being announced over the speaker system and we were heading to the office. Jumping with excitement, we filled out the final forms and got kitted up again. It turned out we were all going to be on the same flight, which was amazing because it meant we were going to be able to jump all together!

So, there we were, back at the beginning, making our way to the plane. Before we knew what was going on, we were sat on the plane and this time, we were actually taking off! Unfortunately for me, I was sat at the front, which meant I would be the first to jump- words cannot describe how petrified I was. I just kept saying to myself, ‘just think of the kids, it’s all for the kids.’ As they opened the hanger door I thought of the kids beautiful faces, their cheeky grins smiling at me and I knew I could do this. The next thing I knew, I was hanging out of the edge of the plane attached to an instructor, faced with a beautiful sky as the sun was beginning to set. Then we dropped.

As we were falling through the sky we turned and looked at the plane and it was the best feeling in the world; knowing that I had just jumped out of that plane despite my horrific fear of heights was incredible, and as I looked out at the sky around me I couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear.

Once we had landed and were all back on the ground we were absolutely buzzing. Bethan and I ran up to one another and enveloped each other in a big hug and cheers of joy. When everyone was back together, I looked around the circle and just couldn’t stop grinning. I’m so proud of every single one of those people that jumped out of that plane. Bethan, Jasmine, Charlotte and Sorcha, you are my heroes and I feel honoured to know you. My Dad, Megan and Bekka were incredible as they braced the cold and 7 hour wait to support us throughout the day, so thank you, I am eternally grateful.

The sponsored skydive was, hands down, one of the greatest and most terrifying experiences of my life, and I would do it a million times over again. Never would I have imagined that we would get such a huge amount of support, so from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

Here's our lovely Jasmine with her ecstatic feelings on the jump!

We did it; we actually did it! After months and months, and then hours and hours (on the actual day) of waiting, we actually did it! WE SKYDIVED; and all for our babies! During the many hours that led up to our delayed dive, I remember having to, frequently, calm myself; I felt instant calm just by reminding myself of all the special little things about each child, such as: Maureeni's little kisses, Baracka's laugh/smile, little David's hysterical laugh, Ericki's hugs, Stevie's MASSIVE grin, Simoni's "NDIZI", Vickys cute smile, little Maureens chatter to herself and all of the other amazingly unique special things about each of them.By the time I was actually jumping I felt pretty at ease, by just remembering why I was doing this crazy dive.I want to say a massive thank you to all sponsors; your help is so massively appreciated and will make such a difference to the kids' lives.

On behalf of Emily, Sorcha, Charlotte, Jasmine and myself, I think it’s safe to say that one of the best feelings about doing this jump was for the amazing cause we did it for. As much as the children probably won’t understand right now, that we recently just jumped from around 13,000 ft out of the sky for them! – There is no better reason for why we did it. The children and the mamas are such beautiful, loving individuals – all so different, unique and wonderful. They inspire us.
Emily states how proud she is of everything we have achieved over the past few weeks. We are so excited to be going back over for Christmas!



We thank you everyone, for being such wonderful inspirations and for helping us to achieve such incredible work. You are the reason that Stevie, Eriki and Dainessi are going to school next year. You are the reason that we are able to hire another Mama to care for our beautiful children. You are the reason the children of Nkoaranga are safe, so thank you.

We also want to wish a special happy birthday to Ebenezer - little man was so tiny and sick when he arrived, and is such a gorgeous, healthy little boy now. We are so proud of you, and so grateful to everyone who has helped us to support the orphanage and the kids!

Daoudi, Peace

Remember our new little guy, Daoudi? Turns out the mamas have renamed him Peace, both as a reflection of his personality and, I'd guess, because we already have a little and big David! He's a gorgeous boy, but he's definitely struggling - he has barely grown in his first month on earth. What he truly needs is a NICU - but since that's not an option, the next best thing is to have one person with him all the time, focusing just on coaxing him to eat and keeping him close to another body for temperature regulation. So since we can't fund a NICU (at least not yet!), we CAN fund an extra mama for the next three weeks, until some of us are flying out and can help share the burden. For just $100 per week, we can ensure that there is an extra woman focusing just on his needs, and we have spoken to the orphanage already about getting that going ASAP. In addition, we hope that our little man will hold on until we arrive bearing special high calorie, premature infant formula donated by Rebecca Woolf of Girls Gone Child. Until then, we can only do our best to help the mamas, and pray for him, and wait.

Baby Daoudi a month ago

And a few days ago, newly renamed baby Peace

A few hundred dollars is such a small price to save a life, but without support from donors like The Small Things, orphanages in Tanzania all too frequently watch their babies pass away. Thank you for anything you have already given or can give. 

Thinking Small to Think Big

Unless you've managed to hide under a a rock for the last week (and if so, kudos to getting internet under your rock!), then you probably know that the world population hit 7 billion. That's some terrifying stuff, if you ask me - and I adore kids! But I think everyone can agree that there are some serious issues with exponentially increasing population growth, both in terms of our ability to care for the needy, and in terms of the earth's ultimate carrying capacity. At the end of the day, neither of these are unlimited - and if we want happy, healthy lives for the children who are being born, population growth is a serious concern. 

That said, population growth as an abstract concern will never, and should never, change the way we see living, breathing children. Every orphaned child, every child period, deserves to grow and thrive, and our mission and passion here at The Small Things continues to be to make that happen. 

Reziki - we will never stop 
missing you, little man. 

Still, there was a part of me that was worried about reconciling the two. I knew that the kids would always come first, that I would never be able to accept loss of an infant's life as anything other than an absolute evil, no matter how bad population issues got. I worried that that made me a hypocrite - a label I would have accepted a million times before shifting my position.

Then I stumbled across Hans Rosling's TED talks on population growth, and more importantly, this video in which he looks at the specific interactions between child mortality and family size. It's a very quick video but amazingly intuitive - and he talks about Tanzania specifically, which I always love to see!

Hans Rosling Breaks Down the Impact of Child Mortality on Population Growth  - and a slightly different, 10 minute version here - "Child survival is the new green"

As someone studying development, I've understood for a while that poverty alleviation can help to counteract population growth, in that as median income goes up, average family size tends to go down. I originally understood this primarily in terms of education, especially for women - higher education tends to lead people to delay having children until later, and choose to have fewer. Still, it took this video for me to really understand the effects that reducing child mortality specifically has on population growth. And now that I think of it that way, I feel stupid for never recognizing it before - the hallmark of a great piece of educational media! 

The truth is, I would have cheered as that blue dot plunged on the child mortality index, even if average family size had been shooting up. I know this about myself - I recognize that my feeling for individuals will always trump abstract principles, and I wouldn't have it any other way. But what a blessing, to know that sometimes you don't have to choose - that doing good on one axis can help create positive change on another. 

We all do the small things that we can, and the big picture will come together, with or without us seeing it. 

These smiles will never be anything but a blessing. 

Buying gifts for the holidays or donating to charity doesn't have to be a zero-sum game, either - through our partnership with Elemental Threads, an amazing design-your-own handcrafted handbag company, you can enter code "TheSmallThings" at checkout and have 25% of your purchase donated to the Nkoaranga kids. Please also consider making a gift to The Small Things in honor of your loved one - they'll receive a beautiful card letting them know that you were thinking of them. Thanks for reading and for caring about our kids! 

Frozen moment

This is a completely sappy, personal, emotional post, so if that's not your thing, please feel free to skip this and check out the other pages, or come back in a few days for something more rational! 

I am only thirty seven days away from seeing the kids again - and I couldn't be more excited, but in a way it's getting harder as the wait gets shorter, because I can almost taste it. It has been a long and wonderful few months, during which we've made huge progress in our fundraising, and I know we're going to be able to do amazing things for the orphanage when we return. In the meantime, though, I'm struggling with being so far away - and I'm already dreading having to leave them again. 

Some nights when I'm really struggling, I write little scraps of things that Zawadi might read someday, hopefully from the far side of a successful adoption. It actually started during the first few weeks I knew her, when she was very, very sick with pneumonia. They're just moments caught on paper, but I like to think that she might know someday how much I miss her. Missing her so badly usually makes me think of her birth mother - of how much I wish she could see what an incredible child her daughter is becoming. This piece was written about a day just before I left. 

 That day, I paused, rested,

curled up with you on the concrete floor.

Tried to memorize your every feature

the music as you dissolved into giggles.

I held the terrible weight

of knowing I, too, would leave -

as you, blissfully ignorant, diaper clad

nestled your tiny body up to mine

cradled between my knees and heart.

Your mother would have been so proud

Delighted in your chubby thighs,

your curiosity, your smile,

even your reticence,

your armor.

I do.

It's not much of anything, but it helps me to feel connected, to be creating something for her future. I have much more to tell about fundraising progress, the holidays, mamas, the skydive, nappies, and slings - but tonight all I could think about was how much I missed my girl, and so that's what I had to write about! Come back in a few days and I'll have something more substantial and less personal up here, I promise!

Defining Family

Loveness cuddling Gracie

As someone with an obvious vested interest in African orphanages, I've been following the situation in Rwanda with fascination. Essentially, the government is in the first stages of implementing a closure of all the country's orphanages, with the children being returned to extended family or placed into foster homes. One of the most interesting facets of the coverage has been hearing from the orphanage children themselves.

While many of us might instinctively applaud the idea of putting children back into families rather than institutionalized care, there are some serious problems with using this model in Sub-Saharan Africa. In almost all cases, extended families that are able and willing to care for orphaned children do so from day one. The fact that children have ended up in an orphanage indicates that this is not an option for their families. As we discuss on our meet the kids page, placing a child in an orphanage is never an easy decision for surviving family members, nor is it undertaken lightly - however, it is often the better choice for their long term well-being. I think we can all agree that if there were safe, stable, and financially secure foster or adoptive homes for all of the children, there would be no issue. The fact is that too many families in East Africa are simply unable to open their homes to another child. Shunting children into families that are unable to care for them adequately unfortunately does nothing but encourage resentment and neglect.

At Nkoaranga, before the formation of The Foundation For Tomorrow, which helps us place the children in high quality boarding schools when they age out of the orphanage, children used to be returned to their extended families at the age of five, or shuffled into orphanages for older children. Mama Pendo, who has run the orphanage for twenty two years, told us that she could no longer do that after spending years following up on the kids and finding far too many unhealthy, neglected, and sometimes abused. Families that are able to care for the children are always encouraged to bring them home - but forcing children onto families that are unable or unwilling to care for them is deeply unsafe and unfair for all involved.

Many of the Rwandan children interviewed expressed deep trepidation over the impending move. Not only are they uncertain of the reception they will receive, but they are deeply troubled at the idea of being separated from their effective brothers and sisters, the orphanage "families" that have been their support system for so many years. At the Noel Nyundo Orphanage, Rwanda's oldest and largest facility, "A boy stood and suggested they remain at the center until they finish school, and his fellow orphans laughed and applauded. Another boy said he grew up at the center, and he doesn’t want to leave his home. 'We grew up all together,' he said. 'We are little brothers, and big brothers. We should stay together.'"

Pendo, Farajah, and David

This particular section of the article struck a deep chord for me. One of the things that has captured my heart about Nkoaranga from day one is the deep bond the children and mamas have. Most of the children have been with us since they were infants, and they truly do grow up as siblings, with all of the love, loyalty, and drama that entails! The staff truly take the mantle of mamas seriously. When David Kubwa and Pray were trapped in a fire in the orphanage baby room several years ago, it was only the intervention of Mama Cantate that saved their lives. She incurred serious burn injuries of her own in the process. The mamas deeply, deeply love these children, and they love each other. If that's not what makes a family, what does?

And happy, healthy Pray now

Baby Pray just after the fire

This isn't to say that there aren't serious problems with institutionalized care for children - as you well know, development can be seriously delayed by lack of sufficient interaction. I'm just not sure that forced reintegration is the best way to handle it. From our end, we're working on hiring more staff. In the meantime, I will continue to watch the progress in Rwanda with hope that the children can be safely integrated back into their families. But my heart will continue to hurt for those children who will be leaving the only families they have ever known, and I hope that they will remain brothers through it all.

Don't forget to check out Project Skydive - some amazing volunteers jumping out of a plane for the kids they love! We're raising funds to hire more amazing staff to add to the Nkoaranga family, as well as to get started on funding the beautiful children who will be heading to school in January of 2013. Thanks for your support!

Everyone doing their bit

I've now been away from the kids at Nkoaranga Orphanage for over a month, and I honestly feel like I miss them more each day!

Megan told me that Dainessi asked her, "Emma ni shuleni Uingereza" ("Is Emma at school in England?") at bedtime the other day. I was so touched that she still remembers me and I can only hope that I had a positive impact on her life.

It sounds a little clichéd, maybe, but I think its probably something a lot of volunteers worry about - whether coming into the children's lives and then leaving again does more harm than good.

When I told Emily about my concerns she made me see it differently (awesome person that she is!). I now think that what is important is that each volunteer does their bit to make their time with the children count: to try and boost the confidence of each little individual, to help them believe in themselves, to encourange them while they attempt to put their own shoes on for the first time, to pick them up and cuddle them when they fall over (or just whenever they need it!), dance with them, laugh with them....just generally let them know how much they are loved! And if everyone does that then, hopefully, the memories they have of their childhood will be a happy blur of all the support and love which so many volunteers have given them.

So that's what I hope, anyway!

And on a lighter note, the picture above is of little Dainessi, feeding Miriam and giving me a toothy grin - she'd just lost her first tooth!

Pre-departure

So I figured since my internet access will be sporadic at best once I arrive in Tanzania, I'd start this whole chronicling nonsense now and get some of the logistics out of the way. As an introduction, I would love for any family, friends, strangers, whatever to read this, but be aware: I will probably vent, and I will certainly swear, although I'll do my best to do both as judiciously as possible - thoughtfully, as Tim Gunn would say. I'm heading to Tanzania for four months, and I'll be living the village of Usa River, working with the Tamiha foundation's Lukundane women's group. My primary goal is to develop a jewelry track as an additional option for girls enrolled in Tamiha's vocational school, which helps girls who finished primary school but are unable to afford secondary education, to acquire marketable skills. Currently, they offer sewing, cooking, tourism, and computers, so this would either be full fifth program (in an ideal world) or be a supplementary option.

In no particular order, here are the things I'm excited about today.

• Seeing my amazing European family, who have been kind enough to allow me to impose on their hospitality on the way to and from Tanzania. These people are brilliant, successful, creative, functional, AND they have to be nice to me because I'm related to them. It probably helps that they can talk shit about me in German or just really strong British slang and such right in front of my face and I stand there grinning like the dumb American I am. That said, I'm hoping Rosetta Stone will eventually teach me to swear in Swahili so I have something to offer in return.

• At my Miss Porter's reunion I met an incredible woman named India Howell who basically is everything I want to be when I grow up and runs the Tanzanian Children's Fund. I've essentially shamelessly thrown myself in the general direction of her feet, and she has very kindly and CLEARLY without knowing what she's getting herself into offered to have me visit when I'm in the country and talk to me about the pros and cons of doing this kind of work long term.

• The incredible people at the Conteni company have donated some tools and supplies for the jewelry program for me to bring. There's a care package on its way and I feel like a kid waiting for Christmas morning (albeit a Jewish-atheist kid, but who doesn't love Santa?). Also, Rio Grande, another company I've worked with for years, will be getting back to me on Monday about possibly donating as well. Seriously, it is the world's best feeling to throw something out into the world, not really expecting a response, and being overwhelmed by people's kindness and generosity. If any of you for any reason require jewelry or metalsmithing tools or materials of any description, buy them from Contenti. Even if you don't, go buy something or write them a nice letter or something. DO IT. 

• Safari. Baby elephant. Awkward giraffe awesomeness. Ngorongoro motherfreaking crater and Olduvai gorge, TO WHICH I WILL BE WEARING MY I LOVE LUCY SHIRT, at which point the universe might actually IMPLODE with the force of the geekdom. Need I say more? 

• Babies. This is the actual Tamiha orphanage. My heart is melting and I want to eat their chubby little faces already.

In no particular order, here are the things I'm terrified of.

• I'm not the world's most easygoing person (pause for everyone who's ever met me to guffaw). Part of the purpose of this trip is to try to force myself to slow the hell down, since I'm really, really bad at that and it's a skill I'd like to acquire so as to not die of a heart attack at age 27. 
• I'm sarcastic, and kind of prickly, and tough, and I like all of those things about myself, but I'm not sure how they're going to go down in a conservative, traditional culture. It's going to require a lot more self-censorship than I'm used to - I tend to lack any sort of verbal filter - and I'm hoping to not offend every single person I come across who understands English. That would be preferable. 

• It's been kind of a lonely summer. I have great friends from college, who've scattered and gotten insanely stressful jobs and who I miss. I ended what was one of the most functional and adult relationships I've ever had in order to hop across the globe. Even before leaving, I've found myself ignoring the phone calls of people I love and want to talk to because it's easier to begin disconnecting now, so it won't be so tough when I leave. Not sure this is a healthy tendency, not sure how it's going to work out in the next few months. 

• I have insanely high expectations of myself, and essentially no armor around my pathetic bleeding heart, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life doing as effective, sustainable, deep work as possible with people who are suffering - and at the same time, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will shred myself into teeny tiny pieces if I can't learn to shield a little, to not be destroyed by the knowledge that there are problems I can't fix. I want to go to graduate school for nonprofit management at some point in the next few years, and I need to know that I'm capable of doing the kind of work that will make my life worthwhile before I spend another several years and several hundred thousand dollars to make it happen. And if I can't do this, then I have no earthly idea how I'm going to fill up my days without feeling like a total and utter failure. Also probably not totally healthy. 

• On a purely practical note, I suck at objects, and despite quite a bit of world-travel-adventuring, it's really just a matter of time until I have serious money/passport/ticket/computer/illness issues. I'm really talented. I once lost my keys in the fridge for two weeks. I've been known to walk directly into doors and walls, I'm constantly covered in bruises of unknown origin, I once lost my passport in the airport between check in and baggage drop. I haven't seen the floor of my bedroom in years, with the exception of a 48 hour window around each move. I've got mad disorganizational skillz. 

That said, I think I have something to offer, that I've found myself a framework that will make the situation livable and the goals manageable, and I'm excited to be surrounded by deeply passionate people.  I'm hoping that I can channel most of my massive quantities of anxiety and dysfunction in the general direction of this here electronic journal, and thereby avoid terrible offense/utter disintegration, and (bonus!) keep my mother assured that I'm still alive. So that's good.

Things I still very much need to do:

• Pack
• Take the GREs (nervous laughter?)
• Send my books out
• Find a store to leave with my jewelry
• Write an application for London School of Economics
• Restructure my psyche entirely for an east African experience

Just a few minor details. Could be worse?