Bon Jovi Day

We’re half way there, whoah, living on a prayer!!! Thats right folks, I’m officially halfway through my contract here with FORGE, and what a mixed bag of emotions THAT is! For obvious reasons we dubbed our half way point Bon Jovi Day and set out to make it memorable.

To commemorate Bon Jovi Day we made breakfast burritos in the morning (one of our recent specialties where we stuff handmade tortillas with homemade refried beans, toss in some fried onions and eggs and grill over coals to perfection) and ate chocolate chip cookies for dinner. (Who said you have to be a grown up?) We popped open a bottle of champagne (which took a fair bit of planning to procure in Solwezi ahead of time) and listened to four different versions of Living On A Prayer, each as equally wonderful as the next.

On this particular Day O Bon Jovi we had no shortage of topics to reflect on. The past seven months have been an adventure wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a handmade tortilla and skewered with a toothpick. Ok thats a bit much...we clearly don’t have toothpicks out here. But is has been a regular roller coaster ride of emotions punctuated by events I never really thought I’d have the chance to be a part of. On top of the things I’ve reported to you here, there’s been a lot going on in the camp recently that I can’t really expand upon in a public blog. Life in Meheba pushes you in ways you never thought possible; there are days I feel far beyond my 23 years and days I feel like a child playing at someone else’s job. Life here seems to be full of contradictions, but each situation never lessens the legitimacy of its opposite.

In the seven months I’ve been here, I’ve seen women learn skills to feed their families and send their children to school. I’ve also seen women become needless victims of domestic violence. I’ve seen FORGE sponsored students graduate from high school and get jobs and even a scholarship to university. I’ve also seen girls get pregnant, drop out of school to get married and never finish their education. I’ve seen mothers learn about nutrition through our health projects that then help their malnourished children receive the care they need. I’ve held six month old children who weigh less than some new borns. I’ve seen our preschools produce the top performing students at the primary schools. I’ve seen the funeral for a preschool child. I’ve seen farmers double their crop yield because of the fertilizer and seed loans they receive from FORGE. I’ve seen farmers loose their entire fields to flood. Most of all though, I’ve seen project coordinators step up and grow as leaders, creating goals and creative solutions to problems facing their projects. I see peaceful leaders who understand the value of diversity. These are just some of the things I’ve seen in seven months, and I’ve learned from all of them. I truly believe the work FORGE does here is changing lives and I’m so glad to be a part of it.

When I think about the people I’ve met over the past seven months I honestly can’t imagine my life without them (cliche I know). Its possible I’ll get a chance to see some people again, but I know the reality of the situation was best prophesied by the all knowing eight ball - outlook does not look good. One of the librarians who works for FORGE is possibly being resettled to Australia soon. If he gets resettled there I may have a chance to visit him later this year when my contract finishes. They told him his group could be going as early as next week, though we’re still waiting on some results. Australia is notoriously picky with their medical inspections and so he’s gone for a second round of dental checks. As I learned with a previous FORGE employee, nothing is ever certain until they’re on the plane. I wrote about a man who was supposed to be resettled to Canada when we first arrived here. I had hopes he’d be resettled to French speaking Canada and that I’d get to visit him some time on a trip back to Montreal. Days before he was supposed to leave they phoned and told him they were pulling his resettlement. When it comes to resettlement, holding one’s breath is not advisable. So perhaps I’ll see my librarian in Australia, and perhaps I won’t. Perhaps I’ll make it back to Meheba some day, and perhaps I won’t. Of course, I hope that by the time I get the chance to make it back all my friends will have found other opportunities and gotten out. A refugee camp is many things, but its not a place to find opportunity. I hope the people I work with will take their skills and go back to their home countries and help rebuild them or that they will have found permanent asylum somewhere else. I’m telling all my Angolan staff to go back to Angola! Get out! Go make real money in a country that is seeing real growth!! One former FORGE employee repatriated to Angola and with the skills he learned here got an awesome job with a land-mine removal NGO. He’s doing awesome work to help his country AND getting paid a seriously pretty penny to do it. Lets just say I’d take his salary...ok right now I’d take any salary, but really, he’s getting paid well. Its not easy to find the courage to leave everything behind in Meheba and start over in a country you haven’t seen in twenty years, or ever for that matter, but I hope that with the skills people learn here more people will find that courage and make that transition.

Sooooo, while its hard to imagine I’ve been here for seven months, its even harder to imagine I’m leaving in seven. I love it here. Sure there are days I want to go home, but then there are days when I realize that Meheba is home...sort of...I mean, we’ve got to hold on to what we’ve got...