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SULEIMANYA,
IRAQ - August 2008
I just spent the
last nine days in Iraq on behalf of War Kids Relief, the new
Children’s Culture Connection in-house program that serves Iraqi
children in need. Unlike all of the other trips I have taken this
year to visit the children in the various programs, this is the only
trip that seemed to prompt the same question:
Iraq?
Are you crazy?
For those who already know me, that’s a
rhetorical question. Yes, I am. However, of all the children around
the world that CCC serves, the Iraqi kids have a place in my heart
that is so sacred that I would risk going there just to try and help
them. It’s not that they are any more deserving than any other
children in need, but the truth is, the reason they are so important
to me is because I forgot they even existed.
Several
years ago while I was in the process of locating 10 children’s
charities around the world for CCC to support, I was up to nine
countries/charities and trying to figure out what the last country
would be. When I saw a story on the news about a small charity
called War Kids Relief that was helping Iraqi kids it suddenly hit
me: There are kids in Iraq? What? Kids in Iraq? Of course! How
did I not see this!?!?
Somehow in the midst
of all the mind-numbing news reports, horror stories and ugliness
coming out of Iraq…from the endless Sunnis vs. Shiite rivalry, to
the insurgents, the suicide bombers, Al Qaeda, Blackwater, and the
stay the course or bring the troops home debate…I had not only lost
sight of Iraq as a culture other than a war zone, but I had
forgotten that there are actually children living in the middle of
this mess. Children who wake up every day, just like my kids do,
trying to make their way in the world with all this craziness going
on around them.
Since that moment, I’ve taken a
special interest in War Kids Relief as an organization and vowed to
help them with  whatever
CCC’s resources could provide. Recently, it has turned out that the
best way CCC could help them was to adopt them. So, as of this
summer, War Kids Relief is a CCC in-house program.
Having already completed two international adoptions
(of the child variety) I was still pretty unprepared for this, so,
in order to figure out how CCC can best develop a program I realized
I needed to see the situation first hand to determine how we can
help. So, with Sandra Hakim, one of WKR’s new program directors, I
went to Iraq to investigate.
Over the last ten days I
have discovered many things about the lives of war kids…but the most
eye-opening discovery is that there are so many kinds of war kids
living in Iraq.
We spent time with kids
suffering from the current war…kids who, with their families, have
fled their homes in Baghdad due to terrorism and have been living in
an IDP camp (internally displaced people/refugees) for three years.
Three years of life in a hell-hole with no running water, amenities
or security. A place where the “cradle of civilization” has turned
into a place so uncivilized that it is impossible for parents to
provide even emotional security for their
children.
We spent time with other IDP children who
were fortunate enough that their parents found friends/relatives to
live with and spare them the refugee camp nightmare. However, while
these kids may have more comfortable living conditions, it doesn’t
erase the fact that they have had parents and family members
kidnapped and/or killed and/or tortured, and that they continue to
live with the same insecurity of “what happens next” on a daily
basis. One of these kids, a four-year old girl (the same age as my
daughter Coco) drew a picture for me, a colorful rendering of a
terrorist holding a knife and a gun. The man who kidnapped her
uncle, she explained.
We also spent time with children
from Halapcha, the Kurdish town that Saddam Hussein tried to erase
by gassing  nearly 200,000 men, women and
children in an ethnic cleansing effort. Having taken place in 1988,
these kids weren’t even born yet, however, the stories from this
atrocity have become a part of their permanent
identity.
And we spent time with kids from a town
called Khormal, a place controlled and terrorized by Al Qaeda until
the US invasion in 2003 drove them out. Again the emotional scars of
this aspect of war are revealed on their timid little faces and
haunt them on a daily basis.
The fact is that there are
so many horrific aspects of war that the children of Iraq have
endured (and continue to endure) it is mind-boggling. Now that I
know these children exist and have heard their stories, there were
moments that I wondered if I can bear to ever hear any more stories,
let alone figure out how to help them.
But despite the
overwhelming feeling of hopelessness I felt, the good news is that
the common thread that runs through all of these children is that
they still all have hope. It may be hard to believe that a fashion
designer could provide any sort of humaitarian aid, but with every
group of children we interacted with we did an art project where the
kids were asked to create a character and tell that character's
story through their clothing. It was an exercise that would provide
them a chance to relax, have fun, open up, be creative and express.
What I noticed is that for every picture of a gun-toting
terrorist…or a child being gassed to death…or a picture of a
kidnapped relative, there were even more pictures of best friends
playing together, clowns, and self-portraits of happy smiling kids.
It made me realize that that greatest part of children everywhere is
their resiliency and their ability to imagine possibility. It is
their buoyant spirit that carries them to the next adventure,
regardless of the insecurity and fear that they must live
with.
Yes, I now know that the children of Iraq exist.
I also know their names and their faces. I have hugged them and held
them. I’ve cried listening to their stories and played Simon Says
with them. Not only will I never forget them, I am committed to
caring for them more than ever before.
So stay tuned
for the unveiling of our new War Kid Relief program. It’s a way that
you will be able to know them, help them and fall in love with them,
too.
-Dina Fesler
* *
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PUNE, INDIA - April
2008
Parveen, Salma, Noushad, Rani, Malika,
Nishat, Sridevi, Anita, Fatima, Savitree, Samreen, Ashreem, Swati,
 Bhagyashree, Sulakshina, Rani,
Ruksana, Heena, Neha, Pyeren, Parveen, Laxmi, Nilofar, Pooja, Gauri
and Shanehej.
These are the 26 Indian girls I
just spent the last five days with in Pune, India and who are
enrolled in ASHA’s Better Life Education Program---the CCC-supported
charity that helps Indian children in need.
Coming from
both Hindu and Muslim families, the girls are between 13-18 years
old and live in one of India’s most oppressive slums. Life is
especially tough for women in these shantytowns where domestic
violence, illiteracy and health issues make it nearly impossible to
ever create better lives for themselves. Most girls drop out of
school by the 7th grade, are married off by 16 and have babies by
18…and the girls in this program are no different. Some already have
arranged marriages in the works, those who have dropped out of
school work full time as domestic servants, and those still in
school spend their free time taking care of younger siblings and
doing housework.
However, ASHA’s (Action for
Self-Reliance Hope and Awareness) Better Life Education Program was
created in 1997 to help empower Indian girls by teaching them life
skills, providing counseling, encouraging the younger ones to stay
in school, and trying to get the dropouts re-enrolled. They also
provide monetary school support, tutoring, and they deal with
misguided families who simply don’t see the point in educating girls
at all. Overall, they encourage girls to have bigger dreams and try
to give them the tools to create better
lives.
This week’s adventure actually started 11
months ago when I stumbled upon ASHA while in India adopting my
second  daughter. All it took was one look
into the bright, beautiful faces of these girls and I knew that we
had to add them to the CCC-supported charity list, however, I’ve
been plagued by one question: How do you know what to dream for in
your life when you wake up every day in a slum?
Well,
I had this crazy idea where we would raise enough money to take the
girls on a 5-day inspirational adventure. We would show them life
outside the slums, infuse their world with new images and sensory
experiences, ignite their dreams, inspire them, exhaust them, and
then give them the tools to express themselves in new ways. We would
also help give them a chance to be teenagers for a little while
longer before the adult world swallows them up
completely.
So last October we held a special
fundraiser dinner to come up with the money, and afterwards, in an
unprecedented event, the directors of ASHA painstakingly convinced
nearly all of the girls’ families and/or employers to let them off
duty to go on this weeklong retreat without penalty or loss of pay.
Impoverished parents agreeing to pick up the household slack for the
sake of their children’s entertainment? Employers paying their
domestic help to NOT come to work for an entire week? It was truly
remarkable!
Over the last five days we visited temples
and parks, restaurants and ice cream parlors. We hiked in the
mountains, watched hang-gliders sail off of cliffs, went on a road
trip, sang songs, played games, and even partook in something called
a “rain dance” --an enclosed courtyard where Bollywood dance music
blares from loudspeakers while water sprays out of pipes
overhead. For 45 minutes I watched 26 screaming, laughing
Indian-girls-gone-wild in soaking wet saris  dance like there was no tomorrow—likely to never be this
carefree again.
We also organized art projects, gave
them disposable cameras and had them document the meaningful things
in their world, and we outfitted each of them with their own journal
to practice expressing their inner thoughts and feelings. We all had
the most amazing time together and I think we did a pretty good job
of getting them inspired. By the end of the week, three who had
dropped out of school came to the director to ask for help
re-enrolling.
So what will the future be for rest of
these girls? Only time will tell, I guess, but I feel pretty certain
that their lives will never be the same.
I know mine
will never be.
-Dina
Fesler
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_XGOsZD5rQ
* * *
PORT AU PRINCE - March
2008
As I wrap up a five day visit
to L'Athletique d'Haiti, the Children's Culture Connection-supported
NGO that serves Haitian  children
in need, I realize that I need to get this experience written down
as soon as possible…partly in fear that I may convince myself that
it was all just a dream.
Although I always look forward to my
CCC trips abroad to visit the kids served through our program, I was
nervous coming here because I really only knew three things about
Haiti:
1. It is a politically unstable country in the
Caribbean.
2. It is the poorest country in the western
hemisphere.
3. 80% of the people live below the poverty
line.
From what I have seen in only five short days,
there is no question that those things are true. I saw UN soldiers
patrolling neighborhoods on foot, driving the streets in heavily
armored vehicles, and running random check points on street corners.
All with their fingers on the trigger of their assault rifles, ready
to engage at a moments notice. (Apparently all hell will break loose
if they were to withdraw, and intimidation remains the name of the
game.)
I helped unload a trailer filled
with dried food aid from US nonprofits and saw it distributed to
hungry families with no other options. For people who wonder where
all those boxes of food packed by the Feed My Starving Children
volunteers and Food For The Poor ends up, here it is.
I also had the experience of riding shotgun on a  water truck that distributes water to a Port
Au Prince slum that looks like the aftermath of a nuclear holocaust.
A place where thousands line up to receive a bucket of water that
must last them up to a week. Waiting in the oppressive heat for a
bucket of water. Not concert tickets, not a Wii, not the latest
video game to hit the market...but water. Just. Plain.
Water.
Unbelievable.
The water truck is
funded by a Minnesota-based charity organized by Father Bernard
Reiser, a retired Catholic priest, in response to the lack of
facilities provided to the people of this slum. As I stood alongside
the water truck watching the seemingly endless stream of men, women
and children hoisting 5-gallon buckets of water up on their head to
carry home, I wondered how long an elderly priest can carry on such
a major undertaking. I wondered what would happen if the money
stopped coming in from his friends and parishioners that support
this. I wondered if I would ever be able to take a guilt free bubble
bath again.
However, while Haiti’s problems seemed so
overwhelming at times it made my head hurt, the spirit of the
Haitian people was so overwhelming it made my heart melt.
Despite the harsh realities of their world, Haiti is
also a country filled with color, chaos and a passion for life...no
matter  how difficult the lives there may
be. Haiti's winding narrow streets are filled with colorful stores,
billboards, bougainvillea bushes, tap-taps (artistic
graffiti-covered taxis), and the lively sounds of Compa music coming
from nearly every street corner. On breezy afternoons, kids fly
colorful homemade kites (ingenious creations crafted from plastic
bags, a few sticks and some string), and in the evenings, 'rah-rah
bands' (rag-tag bands of musicians) stroll up and down the streets
in a make-shift parade, playing music, laughing, singing and
basically celebrating anything at all. It’s like at the end of “How
the Grinch Stole Christmas” when even though the decorations and
toys were gone the spirit of the people (or the Whos in Whoville)
was still completely present.
It is this spirit of hope
that radiates off of the Haitian people...and in particular, Robert
Duval.
Robert (Boby) Duval is not only the founder of
L'Athletique d'Haiti, he is a one-man revolution bringing hope and
opportunity to the Haitian people and their children through his
incredible program. (And to any of you who think that that I am high
energy, intense, and dramatic...just wait until you meet
Boby.)
He is a former soccer star, political activist,
political prisoner, and humanitarian-turned nonprofit founder.
Twelve years ago he started l'Athletique d'Haiti, a sports
training/education program that captures the dreams of impoverished
Haitian kids, infuses their worlds with structure, discipline,
team-building and education, in addition to one hot meal per day.
Often the only meal these kids will have.
Over the
years he has grown his program from one training center to five and
he currently serves 1,300 children around  the country. His goal is to open 25 centers and give
the same opportunity to every child in Haiti. After spending time
getting to know the kids in his program I can say one thing for
certain: this idea is working!!! These kids who came from the same
slum I delivered water to were some of the most energetic, spirited
and healthy kids I have seen...and they all have big dreams for
their futures.
I spent an afternoon with a group
of L’Athletique boys who I challenged to a friendly competition. I
told them that I wanted to show some Minnesota soccer teams that not
only can the Haitians athletes tear up a soccer field, but their
creative ingenuity is a force to be reckoned with as well. So I
collected a pile of garbage from around the area (plastic bottles,
old rice bags, bottle caps, sticks, plastic bags, etc.), placed them
in a pile on the table and told the kids to show me what they can
turn this stuff into. In less than 30 minutes, the boys had created
toy cars, kites and other imaginative items that just blew me
away…although I imagine the Grinch would have been pretty pissed
off.
We shall see if I can find a Minnesota soccer team
game to reciprocate.
Whether they become the future soccer
stars they dream about or not, they are becoming the future problem
solvers of their world through their education, life skills and
competitive spirit. Personally, I believe that these kids are
exactly what can pull Haiti out of the trenches of despair and put
Feed My Starving Children out of business (in a good way, of
course). Despite the political instability, unrest, poverty, and
overwhelming need, the Haitian people are proud, passionate and
loving people who all want to see a better life for their children.
According to Boby, “kids are the only thing that Haitians can agree
on.”
I couldn't agree more.
-Dina
Fesler
* * *
DANANG, VIETNAM
- February 2008
I just wanted to write
a quick message after an amazing, exhausting, and
heart-warming week visiting the programs conducted by
Children of Vietnam (COV)-- the CCC-represented charity that
supports Vietnamese children in need.
Children of Vietnam, which just
celebrated its 10th anniversary, was started by a man named Ben
Wilson as he was facing retirement after a long corporate
career. According to Ben, he didn't play golf and was worried that
he wouldn't have enough to do to keep busy. So, at 65 years old, he
started COV.
All I can say is that after the week
I have experienced, and seeing how many ways his organization
is impacting the lives of children in need, Ben
does NOT need to worry about being
bored.
In less than a week, we have visited
orphanages and kindergartens where COV provides everything
from new buildings and structural renovations to food and milk
programs. We have visited sick and disabled children who suffer from
blindness, missing limbs, deformities, and the effects of Agent
Orange used in the Vietnam War, and seen how COV is providing them
with medical assistance and limb prostheses. We have visited
children living with their families in tin-roofed
shacks wrapped in plastic bag siding that COV is
replacing with permanent houses. (Something like Extreme Home
Makeover...only a lot more extreme, to say the
least.)
We have visited schools funded by
COV, witnessed their tutoring programs that help high
school kids get into college, and we gave new bicycles to 19
kids in a village school so they won't have to drop out (because now
they can get to and from school faster and spend more time
helping support their family farms.)
Finally, we
watched as four peasant families were told that they won't
have to watch their kids die of heart complications because COV has
raised the money to pay for their surgeries. (Not a dry eye in
the house during this event.)
Honestly, I can't begin
to describe the impact this organization is having on the
lives of so many children. I am truly humbled.
As a
country, Vietnam is wonderful, and not just because it is 75 degrees
warmer than Minnesota right now. The countryside is beautiful,
the people friendly and hospitable, and they are working hard to
improve their lives despite the hardships of life in the
Third World and the lingering after-effects of the war. But the
most wonderful part of all is the energy and love that radiates off
of the children no matter how dire their situation is. It is truly a
privilege for Children's Culture Connection to support COV in
their efforts and I can't imagine a week more well spent.
It
is a good thing that Ben Wilson doesn't play
golf.
-Dina Fesler
* * *
NAIROBI,
KENYA - January 2007
Just a quick message to say that I'm having the
most fascinating week here at Nyumbani. After the Guatemala trip
last month, I'm running the risk of total over-stimulation. The
Kenyan world is amazing and the  people are
so loving, gracious and hospitable...although the situations that of
some of the people here are dealing with almost make the lives of
the Guatemalan street kids look easy.
Staying at the Nyumbani
orphanage has been a life-changing experience, and, although I can't
say I know much about Nairobi (we're tucked away in a compound out
in the Karen suburb), I have learned more about HIV than I ever
imagined. The most amazing part is that the kids here are some of
the happiest and healthiest I've ever seen! So full of energy, love
and life. The anti-retroviral medications they take are life savers
and most of these kids are now expected to live long, full lives.
Other treatments and cures are on the horizon and I believe that the
end is in sight for this awful
virus. The hardest part is the
fact that there are just SO MANY PEOPLE to help and not enough
resources to get to them all. Corruption on the part of governments
and drug companies don't help either, so literally thousands
continue to die at an alarming rate.
The crafters that I have
been working to help are an inspiration as well. Their determination
to survive and dreams of  using
their talent to sustain themselves and their families will continue
to fuel my passion for fundraising for a long time to come. I
visited a group of women who's "studio" is an 8' x 10' tin sided
shed...and that was the "nice place". The other women I met work out
of their homes in the slums (Kibera slum alone has a population of
over 700,000) and they spent a day’s wage to take the city bus to
attend the meeting we held in hopes that we can help them. So if
anyone ever hears me complaining about anything --EVER--please slap
me.
Hard!
Although it's been a fantastic
week, I am beginning to get homesick and am missing my family and
nightly bubble baths immensely. Cold showers under a rusty pipe in
my "bathroom" here at the orphanage just aren't doing it for me
anymore, although it does speed up getting ready in the morning.
Next time I'll be sure to bring my French press from home, too. I
miss my coffee.
Most of all, tucking the kids in bed every
night here makes me ache to hold my daughter.
*sigh*
Home soon. Take care.
-Dina |
