Let’s Be The Change. Not Just Talk About It.

Let’s Be The Change. Not Just Talk About It.

Tweet “What is your name?” I ask. She has watched me greet and shake hands with the boys in her class but now that I’ve crossed the muddy courtyard to her, she doesn’t lift her eyes to mine. “Violet,” her voice is barely more than a whisper. We stand on the uneven cement of the tiny classroom as she looks beyond me to the potholed road outside. “It’s really nice to meet you.” I say. She...

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#FCAFAfrica – Morocco Beneath The Veil…

#FCAFAfrica – Morocco Beneath The Veil…

Tweet A collective gasp fills the cabin and the wheels bounce hard enough on the Rabat tarmac to cause an instant head ache to pulse at the base of my neck. After we fishtail to a stop, I collect my things and am grateful for solid ground even as wind and sideways rain knock against my cheeks. Bleary-eyed from jet lag and cranky from the absence of anything resembling a gluten-free meal in the Casablanca airport, I nearly cry when the border...

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When Words Are Not Enough…

When Words Are Not Enough…

Tweet The fog is a velvet curtain. Seemingly impenetrable until a set of cracked rear lights appears less than a foot from our front bumper. With a staccato blast of the horn, the driver propels us into oncoming traffic. I stare at the red thread wrapped around his steady wrist so I won’t see the freight truck baring down on us. Just before impact, we slide back into our lane and the horn sounds again. This time it sends two children on a...

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As Long As You Can Breathe…

As Long As You Can Breathe…

Tweet “As long as you have the ability to walk and to breathe, there is a way to move forward.” Even before the Volunteer Coordinator translated the sentence into English, I could feel the resolve behind it. Ernestina’s words echoed through my mind as the scent of bubbling oil from a woman cooking guinea pig hung in the air. Tiny Urubamba storefronts either overflowing with blue and red mop buckets, brooms, and sacks of...

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A Story Behind Each Wrinkle…

A Story Behind Each Wrinkle…

Tweet Darkness hovers around me as I wrestle with my alarm and force my feet to feel the chill of the bare cement floor to make sure I don’t snooze my way back into oblivion. With numb fingers, I slip into yesterday’s dusty clothes and lace up my sneakers. The sky is just beginning to lighten as I pull the gate and hear the click of the latch behind me. Seeking heat anywhere I can get it, I slide my gloved hands into my pockets and...

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Live Like You Were Dying…

Live Like You Were Dying…

Tweet With one hand gripping my backpack and the other clenched around the holy sh!t handle, I held my breath as the van almost tilted off its wheels. With each hairpin turn the driver, of the shared ride service from Cusco, dropped us further into the depths of the Sacred Valley. A vision of us tumbling end over end through the dust and yellow grass flashed through my mind, but at that precise moment, my iPod shuffled to a Tim McGraw song I...

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