Happy Van Life!

If I’m honest, this story starts back in 2009. That was the year that I rode 12,500 miles on my BMW F800GS from Cape Cod, Massachusetts to Alaska and back. That was when I first learned about the Pan American Highway. Somewhere north of the Arctic Circle we ran in to a wiry German fellow on a bicycle, who was making the last push north and finishing his year-long journey on bicycle from Tierra del Fuego, Argentina all the way up. That was it. It didn’t take long for my wanderlust dreaming to set in. Sure, I’ve been on a lot of adventures since then. But I’ve kept dreaming that one day I’d finish the Pan American Highway and head south this time.

Then comes Steven. Little did he know what he was getting himself in to! When I met Steven he was ready. He was dreaming. Perhaps not of South America, but he was looking for an adventure. And he just needed that little push. He just needed someone to tell him it’s okay to think outside the box, to dream big. I learned a while ago that I don’t have to be the person that thinks, “dang, I wish I could do that.” I can be the person that does it. And so, I was happy to share my wanderlust with him.

So we started dreaming together. It started with thinking about things that we could do together on the road to make it possible to support ourselves while traveling long term. I’m blessed that I can work remotely as long as internet is available. But he couldn’t necessarily help me with that stuff along the way. And he had a full time job. And then it happened. I discovered 360 video production. And I knew it was going to be big. So I pitched one of my clients with the idea to start building a 360 video library. Long story short, we are currently en route to Santa Barbara, CA to start filming on Friday.

This isn’t something I could do all by myself and so Steven, seeing the potential in this, jumped aboard. Now we are partnering on this project. It starts with California’s Central Coast but we are hoping that we’ll be able to pick up some additional gigs.

A TON of work followed that decision. Both from a production standpoint, getting equipment ready and up to speed, but also in terms of getting us ready to hit the road. Because if we were going to do this, we were going to do it. And so we’ve set off. We’ve rented the house out, packed up everything we’ll need indefinitely and hit the road in a 1991 Ford Econoline E350 Club Wagon that we’ve affectionately named “Chetty”. As in Chester. Or Chester P. Storch – my grandfather. Because, well, it fit. It just came to me within 5 minutes of handing over a wad of cash for the purchase. And I knew it would be right and that he’d take good care of us. We’ve made some modifications to Chetty. He was once a church van. Then an antique shopping rig and now, he’s a awesome camper van.We’ll share more about his transformation via video very soon!

Also, we’ve launched WanderBird Productions. It’s the evolution of my SN Creative company and we are looking to focus on more of the video production and 360 content. So how does this all tie in to South America? Well, there’s no official plan. We are going to make the most of the 360 gig and look for other opportunities while in California. We’ll go where the wind takes us. And at the right moment we’ll head south and finish that dang highway!

We are full time van vagabonds with our 3 rescue dogs, Aasa (German Shepherd), Peanut (Chihuahua) and Jug (Chocolate Lab) in tow! I’m so excited to share a bit of the journey with you!

The decision to go to India was not one I made easily. I had all these questions: What’s my motivation? What will I REALLY be doing there? Does it even make a difference? Am I really wanting to go for selfish reasons? Am I contributing to the controversy about white people and “voluntourism”? But mostly, what could I possibly hope to accomplish? After closely inspecting my motives I honestly concluded that they were not entirely altruistic. Indeed, whether volunteering locally or half way around the world, I get something out of it. It relieves a bit of the burden I feel. And so, concluding that my motives could even be deemed selfish, I almost decided NOT to go to India. But then it occurred to me: If the people that have a burden don’t do something, then who will?

In terms of life views, I think I fall somewhere in between realism and optimism. You won’t find me cheerfully singing “Always look at the bright side of life” while bleeding out, but I do believe that attitude and outlook make a huge difference. While it might not necessarily change the circumstances, it will most certainly change your experience of them and the kind of person you become through them.

I truly believe that every life you touch matters, no matter how small the way. That living generously through your actions and deeds, no matter where you are or what the circumstance, matters. But I have to say, when you are in places in the world where the need is so great, and everywhere you look there are people in desperation, it’s really hard to see how anything can help. It’s hard to fight the creeping blackness that sneaks up behind you and tells you, “None of this matters. You can’t possibly make a difference. The problems here are too big. What ARE the issues here? You don’t even understand….. how could you possibly help.”

If you look at these matters at a macro level, that dialogue would be correct. Taking a suitcase of water filters to India isn’t going to fix any of the issues there. But if you look at the situation through the lens that every life matters, then the story is very different. The story then becomes about changing one life. Or the life of one family. Or even just providing relief for someone’s suffering.

One water filter may not fix anything. But it may allow some children to make it to age five. And it may allow a child to go to school because he’s not sick all the time. And if that child goes to school and gets educated, then perhaps he can advocate for his community and work toward long-term solutions for them. But if that child is sick and dying because he doesn’t have access to clean drinking water, there’s no way any of the other stuff might follow. And just what if?

Let’s put it this way and look at it from a local perspective. If you decide to volunteer to cook food at the homeless shelter, are you under the illusion that feeding those people is going to solve homelessness? I think not. But does that mean that you shouldn’t volunteer to help feed them a warm meal? Doesn’t that warm meal matter? Even if it doesn’t solve the larger problem?

I’ve received positive feedback from people about going to India. Even praise, for which I’m sure I’m not worthy of because having seen the people there doing the real work, I fall very short. But I have a sneaky suspicion there are some out there, even friends, that might be thinking, “Oh look at Miss Bleeding Heart…. thinking she’s going to change the world…..” And you have every right to be skeptical. But let me be clear – I’m under no illusion that I’ve done any such thing.

So you’re right. A water filter won’t change the world. But it might just change the world for one person. At worst, seeking to relieve someone’s suffering, encouraging a child, or giving of yourself and sharing in their human experience, is worth something. If to no one else, you and that person. And no, you don’t have to go half way across the world to do it. Matter of fact, there’s a lot you can do and never go anywhere.

So I say all that to say, THAT is the story I keep telling myself, in spite of the overwhelming inadequacy of anything I could possibly do. And that’s where the realist and the optimist in me meet. And since I shared part of the journey, I thought I’d share some of what goes on in my head about it.

So which story to you believe?

I can’t be sure exactly where the idea for the documentary came from. All I know is that before I knew it, what had begun as a seemingly ridiculous inkling in the back of my mind had taken shape into a notion and a hope. Perhaps more than a year ago a friend asked me if I’d be willing to help a small organization doing water projects with the design of a logo. Sure, I agreed, eager to help but also always enjoying a new project. After that logo and a Facebook connection with For One Another Foundation I began being inspired by the work the organization was doing. I was hearing more about the water crisis and I was excited to learn about what this small organization was doing to help.

But the seed in my mind for the documentary begins really at a point where my dream to create something that that was meaningful in some way, and inspiration for the topic, intersected. I suppose it’s a natural place, as one surely cannot create something that evokes feeling if you don’t feel inspired yourself. And so, only somewhat hoping that James would talk me off this crazy ledge, I told him of my barely-there harebrained scheme. For some reason, and I’m still not sure I deserve this, my husband believes in me and instead of naysaying simply said, “If you want to do it, go for it.” What a notion! And why not?

And so, after a whirlwind of events that I’m still shaking my head at, I found myself launching head first into the unknown. The more I convinced myself that I was actually going to do this, the more heavy the burden of the message and responsibility to do it right weighed on me. And lets be honest, a heavy dose of “Oh God, please don’t let me fail!” pleas were offered. It occurred to me that the plea carried a heavy dose of negativity and self-doubt and changed my chants to “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”

Carrie Beth, Executive Director of For One Another, by some providence also found validity in the idea (I’m certain it had nothing to do with my oral persuasions, filled with “you know”, “like” and “ums”) and she invited me to join the upcoming Uganda trip. It was perfect! If I was going to do this, Uganda was surely the best place to show the lack of safe drinking water. There was only the minor detail of me moving to Alaska at just about that same time to contend with. Convinced that if you wait for the perfect time for something it may never happen (note to self – this applies to childbearing as well) I decided to suck it up and just deal with the crazy schedule and make it happen.

The logistics of such an endeavor are more than you might think but I’ll spare you the details. However, after launching into an impassioned plea to a camera operator in hopes that he’d donate his time to the project I was surprised when he interrupted me before finishing my sermon and said he’d do it. And so it became myself and the camera operator following Carrie Beth and two other volunteers on this journey to Uganda.

July 31^st we set out from Sacramento, all of us traveling together. I made the mistake of beginning the journey already sleep deprived which made the 30+ hours of flying rough. Once on the ground in Entebbe we drove to Kampala to stay the night. After about 4 hours of sleep (even that was welcome), we were welcomed by the first member of MAP International to help us along our way. We launched off for a drive through Kampala traffic, and our first glimpse of Uganda in daylight, to collect our sand dam engineer, Livingston. Kampala seemed dreary with smog from the hotel room, but at street level it was a bustle of activity. Every sort of ware, from bananas to mattresses were being ferried along the dirt streets on people’s heads. Motorcycles squirted though seemingly impossible holes in traffic. After sitting in a stifling van at a stand still for about an hour the endeavor was given up and we turned around and waited a whole 5 minutes for Livingston to meet us at a gas station. Armed with our engineer we began making our way to Gulu – a 6 hour+ drive.

Kampala looking dreary from hotel room

Carrying all sorts of things through Kampala

Driving through Kampala

In Uganda, roadside fair for road trips takes the form of roasted bananas and corn sold from little hibachi grills, surely covered in dust, along the side of the road. Simply pull the vehicle over and within seconds you are enveloped in a array of offerings – meats on a stick, suspicious looking bottled water, watermelons, baby plantains and more. After seeing raw meat strung up in open-aired huts along the street our American stomachs (or sensitivities) made us reluctant toward the meat sticks and we opted to try the roasted bananas. They smelled like warmed banana bread, but were less sweet and much dryer than what was imagined from what the smells evoked. But they were good – and I was eating Ugandan street food. Somehow this seemed essential to the experience.

Roadside offerings

We arrived in Gulu just in time to meet the local rotary club (a connection sure to be helpful for the foundation) for dinner at the hotel we’d be staying. Food, I learned quickly, takes an enormous amount of time to arrive there. And while we had all ordered vegetarian dishes, the duration of the wait plunged me into images of the slaughtering and de-feathering of chickens and collecting of rice from the fields just on our behalf – and a bad mood. We were in such a rut with exhaustion by the time dinner came it was all we (or perhaps just I) could do to plaster a smile, no, prevent a downright scowl from hanging our our faces. Mercifully, at some point the dinner concluded and we were allowed to retire to our rooms and bed.

The next day was to be filled with a visit to the SOS orphanage in Gulu before taking off for the town of Kotido where we’d be staying for the duration of the work in the Karamojo region. We had two large duffle bags of donations from the states to deliver to the orphanage. We were invited in at the gate and led to one of the small houses on the premises that was home to about 8 or 9 children (just a few of the many there). The house mother asked each of the children in her care to stand and declare their name, age and what they wanted to be when they grow up. Some proudly proclaimed doctors, farmers and drivers (a noble profession as I’d later discover), while others were barely audible in their shyness. Somewhat disappointed that we couldn’t really participate in the distribution of the items we’d hauled half way across the world, we were still pleased to meet the beautiful, polite children and left with the confidence that the articles left behind would find good homes there.

But surely, it was time to start our travel to Kotido before it would get dark. If the roads from Kampala to Gulu were a little rough around the edges, the road to Kotido promised to be an adventure in and of itself. It did not disappoint. Thankfully, in Gulu we met our first of the two MAP drivers, Joseph, who would be driving us in one of Map’s Land Cruisers – a much worthier vehicle than the van we started from Kampala in. Luggage and equipment strapped to the roof rack and covered with a tarp (rainy season in Uganda), we were off. Our sense of adventure wasn’t misplaced as we found ourselves stuck at the back of a long line of vehicles stopped along the road trying to figure out just what to do about the flooded, swift-moving river crossing ahead. We all piled out. Local village children plucked their way along the line of vehicles, just being curious at all the hubbub. I found them willing subjects, and while the camera operator was at the front of the car line filming what was surely an animated discussion of the merits and risks involved in fording the river, I had the pleasure of entertaining some of these little ones with my strange camera and entreating them to jump or wave in unison. After successfully getting them to wave at the camera for me, I happily showed them the result of their efforts on my little screen – only to be further delighted by them waving back to themselves waving on the screen.

Local kids checking out the river crossing

Love this face!

The decision was made to cross the river. All ten of us (did I mention 10?) piled back in to the Land Cruiser. Feelings were mixed. Michael the cameraman was giddy with excitement about the shot possibilities and quickly mounted the GoPro onto the hood of the truck. Carrie Beth on the other hand, being in the middle, was concerned that if we got swept away she’d be stuck and drowned. I was quickly assessing egress routes. With a dramatic plunge we hit the water which quickly almost reached the windows. We were making good progress, but about mid-way through the driver missed a gear and I held my breath and awaited a dreaded stall, watching how quickly the water was moving around us. Thankfully he found it again quickly and we emerged at the other side in a roar of cheers and hollers. The rest of the journey to Kotido was uneventful but tiring and we arrived late and exhausted.