No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

I'm not exactly sure why, but I've been putting off the conclusion to this story for longer than I anticipated. I think a part of me felt that if I concluded the story telling, the story would end. That is the last thing I want. I'm wrong by the way, this was the jump start to something much greater than I could have imagined.

I'll start where I left off.
Actually back tracking slightly. I find the easiest to follow television shows, recap previous events that have something to do with the upcoming storyline so I'll do just that.


- Disgruntled employee exposes the center for having illegal foreigners working. Although this is in fact true, I found while I was wandering town and running into other Mzungus (volunteers, travellers, aimless wanderers) that it is a general understanding...if you are there to volunteer...if anyone of authority asks you are simply a tourist... Unfortunately the country makes it so difficult for anyone to help. The people of Kenya are not at fault. Every person I met except for the select one, has been an absolute joy often shared an enlightening conversation. There are people at the top of the political food chain who have unfortunately been bitten by the corruption bug. I honestly believe that the foundation would continue to go unbothered for quite sometime if these events had not occurred. I believe the government has known about our operation for quite some time, but they were always willing to turn a blind eye because they knew that what we were doing was noble and for the benefit of their country. The ill-fated turn of events was brought about by a  few different key factors. Pride...(which I am guilty of more than most...but I'm working on it) and a vindictive, hell-bent drive. Someone so blinded by self-righteousness and pride that he fails to see the collateral damage that will undoubtedly unfold if he sees his "cause" through. Now the only thing he had to do was tip off the press. In Kenya, like in America, the press is, for the most part, ruthless. A good story is a good story regardless of whose lives or reputations are maimed in the process. The fact that the press made this such a huge story with their own disgusting twists and lies, suddenly turned the attention of the public to the government. Why weren't the authorities doing something about the illegal foreigners "working" in their homeland.

Sound familiar?? I'm Mexican American ( with a lot of european influence), but as you know I look whiter than Wonderbread...ironically I traveled all the way to Africa just to be viewed as an Undocumented worker...you have to find the humor in that.

I feel as though the government had to make an example of us...and that is exactly what happened.

-If you missed the previous episode of this story, I didn't get caught. The day that immigration came to our center to lay down their iron fist, I was in a little remote village hours out of town participating in a famine feed and picking up a great deal of children from their tribes, whom they were visiting during Easter Holiday.


How did I get so lucky you ask? You don't even know the half of it....
 Flash forward to me sitting in a Cafe in town after having taken a private minibus to town to pose as a tourist.
Although I had one of the older kids (NDegwa) accompany me, I was alone at this particular moment. NDegwa had gone looking for a hotel room for me to stay in. It wasn't safe for me to be running around in public considering the idea that the authorities confiscated not only passports (which for some strange reason I actually took with me to the village...luck) but they also confiscated all of our employee documents...including a copy of my passport and a document stating I was an employee. As far as we know....They know I'm on the grid...I have to lay low.
As I am sitting there frantically on my laptop trying to formulate a plot to ensure my freedom I feel a shadow hovering over me. I look up and I see a tall dark figure. The man had to be at least 6'2", he was in all black, black sports coat, black collard shirts, black slacks and black dress shoes. He looked like a reverend of some sort and was holding a book. He leaned down towards me ever so slightly and extended his hand for me to shake...so of course in a state of utter confusion...I shook it. He gives me a rock solid look in the eyes and in an African accent says "you are blessed my friend...very very blessed." Then he walked over to a table across the cafe, sat down and began to read. I've never seen this man before in my life. As with most experiences I'd faced thus far I found myself once more without words. I didn't know how to react to this. Who was this guy?

NDegwa returns and I immediately inform him of this man at the cafe and he dives into a panic. He suspects this guy may be either with the press, with the authorities or with the Jury overseeing our case. Our immediate assumptions is "S*it...he knows who I am. I have to get out of here" In a frenzied hurry, I pick up all of my belongings and follow NDegwa to a hotel just a few minutes from our current location. I get settled in and he warns me "do not go back there, they will be looking for you"

So here I am, in my hotel room....in DESPERATE need of a means of international communication, and the lingering terror of walking outside, being recognized and being arrested. I was put in a very special position. Why am I the only one that got away? I don't know, but I've stopped blaming myself at this point and I've seen it as an opportunity...I can't waste my freedom blaming myself. I'm the only one who can do something about this. My safety...first and foremost...I'm of no use to these kids behind bars.

I'm feeling a little thirsty at this point so I decide to very cautiously walk next door to get some water and also inquire about Cyber Cafe's in the area. I need to get online.
I smoothly make my way next door and as it turns out...the building across the street is exactly what I was looking for. I hurry over to the cyber cafe..walk into the dark building, up the staircase and immediately to the left.
"Can I use this computer?"
He nods
I sit down. I'm online. My first and really only idea is..I have to get my sister online, she knows a bit of the backstory because of our recent conversations and she would instantly know the severity of the situation. "You need to get out of the country in the next 24-48 hours...or you aren't leaving the country" Those words from Maddie echoed in my head like an annoying song you aren't too fond of but know all of the words to because of it's catchy nature.

I go onto my facebook

"I'm in some trouble, I really need some help. If you get this please call my sister and have her go online....Please." - April 29th 4:46 AM   . 2:26 PM - Kenya

"Stephanie's number is 760*******...she can hate me later for posting that on facebook... Please everyone that reads this blow her phone up right now...tell her Christian says it's an emergency. please" April 29th 6:16 AM    4:16 PM - Kenya

While I am online, I'm thoroughly overwhelmed with gratitude at the immediate action taken by my friends. As I wait, I begin to construct a number of emails. At this point I don't know what will happen to me so I have to prepare. I write several letters on my computer to loved ones, acquaintances, co workers, friends and save them onto my laptop...Just.In.Case. It felt like I was writing my will.


"Can't I just go to the embassy?"
"What will you do if they detain you before you get to the embassy...you do not have the same rights you have in your country" 
Words from my friends that really brought an understanding to what I was facing.


"She got through, thank you everyone" April 29th 6:57AM...4:57PM- Kenya


Finally, Stephanie logs on. We need to find out if I need to purchase another return ticket, if I can move my return date to tomorrow and how much our conclusion will cost. My friend Ron, who is online at the time as well,does a better job of calming her down than I . At this point I'm almost unphased. I still to this moment can't believe this is happening. It isn't because I dont comprehend how serious this is...it's actually quite the opposite...I'm so overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions....so much so that I don't actually know how to react accordingly. So I stay calm. Maybe it's that California state of mind kicking in, but I am calm and assertive throughout.

The cyber cafe is getting ready to close. I give her and Ron clear cut instructions. There is nothing I can do right now except stay out of prison....oh boy...

 I will have to wait until the next morning to find out if....and when I can come home. I spend the rest of my day laying in bed, listening to music...and thinking...thinking myself to the point of exhaustion....so much so that I fall asleep....


I wake up fully clothed, splash my face with water, brush my teeth and head out the door. First I go to the shop next door and buy a cell phone....possibly my last day in Kenya and I'm buying a cellphone...well better late than never. I realized when I woke up that I could have my sister contact me through Skype on my Kenyan cell phone. I then go across the street and take my seat and computer from the day before.


Stephanie Ceja - "christian please get a hold of me as soon as you can ill be online on and off all day... as of right now the soonest i can fly you back is on sunday.. so your gonna have to lay low til then..but im trying other options.. so lets just see.. i love you soo much" April 29th 12:42 PM. 10:42 PM - Kenya

I respond
"This place closes at 7pm....9 AM your time. So I will be on throughout the day checking in. If you like, forward me the flight information. I am sneaking into the center tonight after 5 (government officials aren't on duty after that time) to say goodbye to the kids and help them plan for being on their own. I believe everything will be fine, We are leaving the oldest kids in charge until we can find out what to do...time to grow up I guess. I'll be doing work for the foundation when I get home to assure that everything here is taken care of."

I talk to my sister after hours of waiting on the computer and she informs me that she thinks she found a ticket for the next day but will not know until 9 AM her time....7PM my time...So I make arrangements with her. She is to call me on my Kenyan cell phone the moment she knows of my departure time.

I go to back to the center with my friend Gaurav. Probably a stupid stupid move......look...I realize this...I usually have no defense in regards to my stupid behavior, but we knew this had to be done. I have a minibus drop me off about a half a mile away. I walk down a backroad and through the farm of the foundation. I meet with the kids and ask to speak to the eldest kids privately. While I am sitting in my old empty room I realize something. I can't find my phone. My sister is supposed to call me at any moment and I can't find my phone. NDegwa walks into the room along with 5 other kids ranging from 16-18 years old. One of them recieves a call during our meeting...from my phone....someone in town found my phone..and is now delivering it to where I am....
What luck....

I continue explaining the situation to the kids. We have no other option...they are in charge now...they have to grow up in the next 5 minutes.

I have to leave the center promptly after arranging finances and saying my goodbyes. Back to the hotel until I recieve the call from my sister....


My flight is at 4:30 Pm the next day....I should be relieved...but I'm not completely out of the woods yet. She messages me online moments later while Im at the center waiting...

"S*it Christian, I F*cked up. Do you have any money in that account? I put your card on file instead of mine and the charge is $550"

F*CK.....

"...no...I don't I have maybe 100 dollars in that account...."

"Sh*t! I don't have enough time to go to the bank and deposit the money and there were only 10 seats left of the plane"

I don't know what possessed me to...but I check my account....

"steph....we're going to be ok"

"no, I'm sorry!...I don't know what to do!"

"no..no steph, you don't understand...I don't know how...or who...but there was a 500 deposit into that account a few days before this all happened....I'll be home Tuesday Morning"


My head spins with confusion and yet a calming sense of relief..I'm not afraid anymore...all of those petty insecurities I used to have...disappeared.....someone...something...is looking out for me. My friends in Kenya call me Blessed Boy....Would they be wrong?

And who was that guy I shook hands with at the cafe...what does he know that I don't....

The next early morning we take a bus back to Nairobi, Kenya. This is where my plane departs from. As I'm on the bus looking out the window I know this will be my last time looking at these skies for a while. Not forever though. I'm not done. I can't be.

If life itself was in human form, I like to believe it has a heart.... a good heart. The universe has a way of balancing things...


There has been a phrase repeated to me ever since I got back. I'd heard it before but never has it rung with such truth...

No good deed goes unpunished
.....and personally......I could care less.....

Nightmare...April 28th-29th

Last night I had a nightmare.

Actually, first let me give you some back story. No one at our center is paid. Our center works differently than any other foundation. It's flaws I believe are actually it's strengths. No one from top to bottom is paid so that creates a problem, but also solves one. We don't have people specifically hired to do fund raising, hiring, finances...etc...so all of that work falls on the directors at the orphanage/safehouse. Unfortunately this also means a few less hours to spend a day with the children. However, this also means that any money that comes through the center go all goes to the wellbeing of the kids and thank goodness because there are a lot of them...approximately 125 kids...  Luckily though there are plenty of directors at our center and we aren't exactly strapped to our computers so the children really get all of the attention they deserve. I've never felt as though they were at all deprived. A few days ago one of our directors was let go because he wasn't showing any signs of work. I had received a bad vibe from this particular director during our first staff meeting when he mentioned he needed some help on some construction on the dining hall and when I offered, he looked me up and down and very condescendingly said, "No, it's fine". He is the only person at the center in nearly three weeks that I have been there that has never introduced himself. So this particular employee was let go, or at least that was the plan. He was told he had a day to pack up and leave. He has only been at the center for about 2 months so in any case this is still a provisional period, and trust me...it is VERY hard to get let go from such a place. He not only refused to leave, but threatened several of our directors. The next few days were very unpleasant as we tried to formulate a plan. We then finally gave him an ultimatum as we suspected he had been plotting. The problem for us you see is that in the country of Kenya, one is not allowed to even volunteer without a work permit. A work permit in Kenya is equivalent to $1000... American money. The foundation is trying to establish itself as a missionary, where the work permit would only cost $25 American dollars .It seems a little strange that such a needy country makes it so difficult for people to want to help. I can't blame the kids or any of the other wonderful people I've met while I'm here if I had to do everything again knowing how this would end, without a doubt I would. So the day we let him go, he called the local newspaper and informed them of foreigners working here illegally. After he finally departed, he came back with the local news and more than a handful of reporters. For the safety of the kids, no one was allowed in. He has been threatening to go to immigration for some time now, but it seems this time he would go in peace. He got his 5 minutes of fame...the deed is done. The next day we were going to pick up almost 60 of the kids from the center at their villages as they were on holiday and spending their vacation time there. To be completely honest I wasn't exactly looking forward to a 6 hour drive to a completely remote and desolate location only to spend the night and head back in the morning. I found out hours before the departure that I would be the only director going on this particular trip accompanying the driver, our cook and a few of the older kids. We left at 4 in the morning, and I have to tell you, I had the best seat in the vehicle. Our foundation vehicle is like a bus with a cab. I sat window seat. As soon as we left Nakuru, I fought with everything inside of me to stay awake. These are the kind of sights that really change someone. I got my African safari and I almost missed it because of lack of sleep. The entire way there was full of these extraordinary sights, the entire left side of my trip was the cliff sides you only see in movies....no words....We finally pass all of the sights and come across what seems like just desert, and not the kind from home. The sands in these deserts are so light that the slightest wind or disturbance diminishes any sort of visibilty. It boggles me how the driver even knew where we were going, there was no road map, no signs and absolutely no civilization in sight. This is the kind of scenery where bodies are buried...needless to say, as with most of my time on this adventure...everything worries me, dumbfounds me and somehow finds a way of enlightening me. In the distance I see a small tin structure. We arrive at it and everyone begins getting out. I immediately feel that African heat that everyone warned me of and before I was able to lather it on, in the distance I see a little man walking toward us, and then I see a few more....then little girls begin to arrive...and some older folks...... this legitimate African tribe approaches everyone in the car including myself to embrace us. It seems they are familiar with my passengers and as excited I am to be meeting them, I am still completely unaware as to why we are there. I don't see any children from the center so what brought us to this abandoned part of the world? Two of the boy that came with us begin unloading these potato sacks. My curiosity inspires me so I took a closer look and noticed that each one was filled with either cabbage, corn, flour, beans or rice. It dawned on me...we were doing a famine feed. I don't think I had ever seen anyone so happy. Ever. We made five different stops, said our hello's and dropped off the goods. I never in my wildest dreams imagined such a feeling of fulfillment, gratitude and humility. Suddenly it became clear that what seemed like this tedious and boring trip was actually something I'd been waiting for my entire life. I was more than satisfied with my involvement with the kids, but to really see and experience this is bar none the greatest gift of all. This is the kind of thing I hope to be doing throughout my life. This is what I came here for.

I nod off in the truck...traveling, the heat...and this milk I was drinking...once again...Milk was a baaaad choice.

Back to my nightmare...

I have this dream where as I am having this glorious adventure my fellow staff members at home come across a bit of trouble. The news gets to the local government of our illegal position and they decide to pay the center a visit accompanied by this former disgruntled director. He points out everyone who is working illegally and the government officials confiscate their passports disabling them from fleeing. I get news of this from another director already staying in the same town as I am. She tells me of this and that they have to go to the immigrations office in the morning to sort things out. This is where our worry begins. Optimism is a bit forced at this point, but absolutely necessary. We all have lunch as a group, then take a walk around this tiny town, maybe 1 block in area. Very dusty and the structures are either huts or made of tin. To be honest, I quite enjoy the peaceful serenity of it all. The cook, Robin, and I kill time at the local "bar". We each have a bottled coke, and talk about the center, the kids..the things that need improvement and of course...the situation at hand. He repeats over and over how blessed I am to have avoided this. I still have my passport and as of yet, the government doesn't even know I exist. We go back to the restaurant and have dinner. This is where Maddie (the other director) informs me of what is only the second news flash in a feverish downward spiral of events. The directors who were at the center when the government officials came are being summoned to court to discuss their case. My heart sinks and I lose my breaths as an infinite amount of questions arise; Why would someone do this, what were they trying to accomplish, do they not realize that if there are no directors at the center all 125 kids will have no place to go, why is such a noble cause the object of prosecution, what will be the consequences, and why...for God's sake...why not me, I am equally as guilty of such "crimes" as everyone else. I got lucky is what most people would say. Suddenly that memory of my mother giving me her rosary right before I leave to the airport saying "this will protect you" flashes into my head. It hasn't left my neck since I left and I'm not sure It really belongs anywhere else.  Now to be completely honest, I don't know If I believe this is divine intervention or simply the grace of a mothers wish that brought about this simple miracle. Why.not. me. As we are sitting around a campfire Maddie tells me of her day, we are all trying our hardest not to think about what was waiting for us when we get back to the center, but somehow the universe wanted this particular topic to be on our minds, for right as I started to feel comforted by the fact that this is a silly reason to worry, all we are trying to do is help the kids, Maddie receives another phone call. The lawyer that the directors spoke to said there is only two ways this case could go...either a ridiculously hefty fine or the other...and brace yourself...I wish I had....1 year in Kenyan prison. The nausea set it and it was gladly accompanied by panic, guilt and the leader of the clan...fear. I don't understand how this is happening. I can't believe this is happening. I pinch myself, I don't know if it's the dream state or fact that all of my blood has viciously rushed out of my face and into my gut. The exhaustion from the days worries set in. I ask for the key to my room, I unlock the door walk in, sit on my bed, and before I can feel the roller coaster feeling of falling back into my pillow I fall fast asleep.

 "Day light licked me into shape, I must have been asleep for days"

....I open my eyes and look above me to see the familiar sight of a  mosquito net. I sit up, rub my eyes and realize I fell asleep with all of my clothes on...shoes hat and all...for a brief moment as I come to, the sudden feeling comes over me that it was all just some bad dream. I look to my left and instead of my roomate from the center GG I see Robin.

The only thing worse than dreaming something up so violently evil is to wake and find out that it's all.f***ing.real. The government did take their passports. They are being summoned to court. They are possibly facing one year in prison....f***. It's like in this one last trip I experienced everything, every emotion, every experience, the best and the worst situations I could have possibly come across in the next 6 weeks, 3 days, 15 hours, 41 minutes and 18 seconds....all happened in one "holy s***" of a day. What happens now? We can't take the kids back to the center...there is no one running it. We have to go to where all of the kids wait for us and tell them that we can't take them with us. That they have to go back to their tribes...that we failed them somehow and came all of this way just to let them know that we can't do a f***ing thing. After this we start our 6 hour drive into town. The entire ride I am wondering what in the world am I going to do? We stop for one last lunch about an hour and a half from our center and it dawns on me. I can't go back to the center. Not only can I not go back to the center, but I have to go my own way from here on. The driver received a call from one of the elder kids at the center saying the police are looking for another director. There are checkpoints right before the city line and if they see what looks like a volunteer in the center truck ( we have the name painted on the side of our truck) I will for certain be detained. I take a private minibus to town to pose as a tourist until I can figure out what I can do. Now I am here in Nakuru, at a cybercafe across the street from my hotel room.......if you are reading this, I hope this explanation finds you well....I will either be seeing most of you very soon or not for another year....and regardless of the outcome...one hell of an adventure.....

The honest to God truth....and you may think me crazy for feeling so...but I can not wait to come back here

April 23rd a Moment of clarity?

.

Today I learned a new word. Mzungu. Literally means white person. (<---- correction...It actually means Aimless wanderer...which is surprisingly fitting...)   As I was walking through the puddle filled streets of Kenya looking down at my feet and skipping from one piece of risen road to the next on this lightly rain ridden day with Gaurav and Katy, I thought to myself  "I can't remember the last time I was this perpetually happy." Sure moods come and go and sure sometimes the feelings of frustration and sometimes confusion are overwhelming, but the underlying feeling of it all is true happiness. The unique thing about this particular feeling of happiness is that it wasn't because of a new found spark with the opposite sex or because I came into some money, or even because I was surrounded by loved ones. it was something so different from all of that. Don't get me wrong those are all absolutely nonpareil.....You know what?...it just came to me. It was absolute clarity. I know it won't last, it never does, I won't be greedy with it, but I will wholeheartedly cherish it and take advantage of this weightless feeling. I believe the Day and I share the same feeling, it seems the sun is setting later today almost as if to say "Stick around, some real feelings might surface". It's one of those feelings, the breaths I take seem fuller, and not like I'm struggling to gasp for air...no...it's as though every breath is a gulp of cold water and I don't think this world could ever satiate this thirst I have for more. For the love of God, please more. I've developed a real friendship here with the people I've met. Not the kind of typical friendship you develop out of loneliness or lack or resources...because you think that this person will be a benefactor in your life's journey, but simply a mutual exchange of happy energy. I don't know how else to describe it. There are few people in my life who have ever really made me feel that way. Probably reading this right now...I have a set of rules when starting a new relationship, whether it's a friendship or a promiscuous acquaintance...;

1. I won't be taken hostage, and I don't take hostages

2. I don't need to be taken care of, and I'm not in the position to take care of anyone

3. I'm not in the position to complete anyone......and I don't need anyone to complete me

That being said, I believe that love should be used in abundance. I know that most people say to be careful with it, don't throw it around, but for me I say throw it around, flood the streets with it....but never, ever abuse it. I'll continue with my thoughts on that later.

So Katy, Guarav and I went into town today to get some work done. Sometimes there is so much going on at the center that it's absolutely necessary to escape from the chaos to get some online work done.. We usually convene at a local cafe and have a smoothie or two. No distractions, no loud noises, just work. Today we get to our usual location and come to find out it is closed for Easter weekend. I didn't expect this country to be so religious, but it's nice to see people still believe it something. It doesn't really matter to me what it is ,but with faith comes hope and with hope comes peace of mind....that's all we are all searching for anyway right?
We walk to this Cyber Cafe a few doors down and try for about 20 minutes to get our laptops to work there , but no cigar. It seems this day did not want us to worry ourselves with work for most of the day, it wanted adventure and discovery for us. It wasn't exactly a safari, but even just a stroll through a less than familiar town seemed to feed the soul somehow. We stopped at a restaurant to eat and then went into the "sports pub" next door to watch the Soccer game. Something so simple yet how often something like that is taken for granted. Soccer has been in my life for the greater part of it. Frankly, the sport has had a greater impact on me that I had thought. Some of the best connections and bonds I've created have been established because of the sport. I guess I owe a great deal to it. Even there in the pub as Man.U. scored the only goal in the final 3 minutes of the game, the crowd (and what seemed like the entire building) roared, whether it was out of glory, utter disappointment or just a bystander startled by the sudden increase in human volume.... we all shared the tiniest of moments where all of our hearts skipped a beat.

Learning, Prayer, and Women<---God must have been a....genius...pardon my language this time...

April 22nd,

My gosh these kids are so much smarter than me in so many ways. Although a lot of my youth was spent in Mexico where my grandmother and mother washed most of our clothes by hand apparently NOTHING stuck. Today I decided to quit putting off laundry before I have nothing left to wear. I already have an entire country staring at me when I walk past them, I don't need them calling me chafu as well. (chafu means dirty in swahili). Other words I've learned in swahili (forgive my wretched spelling....thank you american school system): Habari yako :How are you
Nzuri - Good
Nyadji - How are you (I believe this is slang)
Poa - (Good - slang)
Ishirini na tatu - Twenty and three...my age (as I'm typing this one of the kids sits next to me and corrects my spelling haha...everything here is a lesson.)
Asante - Thank you
Asante san - Thank you very much
Kuja - Come here
Ndiyo - Yes
Hapana - No (I find myself saying this a lot to these curious wonder-filled kids...they love my stuff)
Mama yako a mi ni pea - My mother gave this to me (Referring to a rosary I've worn around my neck since I left home. My mother handed it to me the last time I saw her and said "I know you don't pray much anymore, but keep this with you"...I listen to my mother much more often than I would ever allow her to know. I do find myself praying though and oddly enough it's for different reasons than I would have imagined. I pray for the safety of my loved ones...probably most of you reading. I pray in acceptance of the fact that I have very little control over most things and for the things I do have control of...I pray I always see the good in people, regardless of the inevitable disappointment with most. I pray that regardless of my frequent urges to take the easy way and leave collateral damage along the way to my own yearnings that I remember how much more fulfilling it is to do the right thing. I pray that I know what the right thing is...and If I don't...I pray that I always do everything with good intentions in this more often than not confused heart.

I apologize, I digress. Then again, this is my blog and for some convoluted strange reason I will never understand, you as the reader are interested in what I say. I'll be honest though, I am in no way pressured to make this interesting for you. I can only hope it will paint some sort of picture for you. I apologize that it will never do it justice. This place is like something out of a dream. I'll spend some time in the near future describing it. For now let me get back to my embarassing admittance; I'm absolutely awful at doing laundry by hand. I asked my friend here Katy (from the UK, here as a volunteer) to help me out and as we were sitting there doing my laundry, this little girl who doesn't speak a word of english began dipping her hands in my bucket and wringing out my clothes... in a much faster and more effective fashion than myself. She left after a few minutes and I'm fairly certain I heard her laugh at me. I continued by
myself for a few more minutes when suddenly, as my luck would have it, it began to rain....HARD...and of course my stubborn ass proceeded to do my laundry. I swear, this fucking pride of mine will be the death of me. I finally give and drag the buckets of my mess up to a place hidden from the rain. Finally one of the girls at the center, Sharon, must have felt bad for me, asked me to step aside and did what would have taken me hours in a matter of minutes showing me the proper way to not be an idiot. Women, even here find some way of humbling me. One thing I could never live without. I think thats one thing I truly miss, the scent of a woman.

Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman describes them in the most crude and poetic way imaginable. I could never do it justice so I'll leave you with this.

"Women! What can you say? Who made 'em? God must have been a fuckin' genius. The hair... They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips... and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits. Hoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya, like secret searchlights. Mmm. Legs. I don't care if they're Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What's between 'em... passport to heaven. I need a drink. Yes, Mr Sims, there's only two syllables in this whole wide world worth hearing: Pussy. Hah! Are you listenin' to me, son? I'm givin' ya pearls here. "


on that note, if I continue this entry...I'LL need a drink...please excuse me while I take a cold shower...

April 13th...First entry taken from my journal

...Of course....mine is the only flight that is delayed. I miss them so much more than I could express. Being the older brother means having to be stronger, although truth be told, I think they spend more time taking care of me. Bless their hearts for allowing me to believe otherwise. Another reason to add to the ever-growing list of why I love them so. Because they let me play superhero....even though I 'm 23 years old.

Random thought - April 13th - 8:34 AM. "I wonder how much easier things would be if I just told you....."

Random thought - April 13th - 9:40 AM "I've slept about an hour in a 48 hour period and I'm definitely getting delusional..although it may have something to do with the fact that I took two sleeping pills....I might have miscalculated a bit....I can only pretend to be normal for like 10 more minutes....BTW....Flight Attendants....haaave mercy...WHERE do they get these......This plane needs to board already, I'm falling.......(my pen literally trails off as I am sitting at my gate waiting to board)

I slept for about 14 hours on this flight, only waking for my meals.

I found it deliciously cliche that as soon as we landed "Come Fly with Me" began to play...It brings back such a familiar feeling in such an unfamiliar place...

April 17th....taken from my journal

Our power went out today. We have no running water for the day....It's incredible how spoiled we are and how humbling it is to see how little people can actually get by on...not just get by, but thrive and enjoy life more than I could have imagined. It's the only way of life they know...nothing new. It's interesting, I was convinced this place would numb me more because of my lack of communication skills, but it's doing exactly the opposite. I'm not numbed or distracted by the comforts I have at home, most of the time I have no other choice but human interaction. I'm having a much easier time than I anticipated learning the kids names. It's easy once you have the personality to match up with the name. There is Mikey (who loves pictures...hes much smaller physically than most of the other boys although he may be the older of the bunch) Moses (who always carries around his little radio...the fact that it makes sound at all is the most fascinating thing in the world to him) - As I'm writing this, Mikey comes in to just have some company and I hand him two double A batteries for his music player...I don't think I've ever seen someone more thrilled - Benny who seems to be the youngest of the boys, but definitely stands out....Plilali who is by far the most trouble and yet I find a soft spot in my heart for him. He hijacked my camera the other night, when all of the little ones came into my room to play with me, took his own picture, then turns to me, shows me the picture and says " Look at how beautiful I am" he is always touching what he isn't supposed to and being where he shouldn't be. He will make direct eye contact as he is doing something mischievous almost to see how far he can go or how much he can get away with. I'll return to names later. Last night one of our directors Maddie and GG (short for Guarav) did some salsa dancing for the kids. Dancing really is a universal language, Ill have to take some dancing lessons into some serious consideration as soon as I get home....Sometimes with these children words are completely unnecessary and superfluous. Most of the time they just sit next to me, hold my hand, rest their head on my shoulder....no words...just being there....they just crave that connection....more than anything....something we have in common....

Prologue - April 12-13...the night before my departure

It's 2:35 our time (US) and I've somehow convinced myself that If I stay up long enough and sleep according to the time difference I will soon be experiencing, the adjustment will be much easier. There are big, obvious, gaping holes in my logic and they are very childishly teasing "neener neener". I am so exhausted today. Last night I went out and had one last hoorah with my boys. It wasn't exactly the night I expected, but nothing beats hanging out with these fellas. We call ourselves the Justice League (drunken nickname for sure), but trust me, after getting to know us....it makes sense. It's nearly impossible these days to find genuine people who still believe in Good. So back to my long day...I was woken up this morning by an email sent to my phone from the airline. It was my e-ticket and it was addressed to Christian R.( let's leave it at R.)Ceja...one problem....my passport says Christian Ceja. The airlines being as strict as they are require the name on the ticket to match the name on the passport. So with an hour of sleep under my belt and an the poisons from the night before creeping into the next morning...I'd fallen asleep with my clothes on and didn't think twice. I jumped into my car and drove to the passport agency in LA....for the fourth time this month. Maybe that's how I know that this experience will be unlike anything else. I can't remember the last time I worked this hard or lost this much sleep on anything other than a devil woman...( with all do respect of course.).....Pointless to sleep now.....I have been working hard on opening up a little more these days. A close friend brought it to my attention a very long time ago and now that I'm aware of it, It's impossible to even fake a social connection. It's not all bad. Most of the battles I face are waging war inside my own head, while my outward appearance is that of someone who wears his emotions on his sleeve....does that make me a liar? A pretty girl I know told me that I should write......now my ego and sense of humor are trying to convince me that she was asking to write specifically to her, but I'm going to save myself the embarassment on this one and take it as more of a general statement....on that note....what ever happened to the love letter? Maybe thats my cue to bring it back....

I'm going to stop right there because I know that the longer I go, the less sense this will all make.

- Ceja