Saturday, April 10, 2010
Reference frames
S for Sudan. Now how often is it that you hear that one? Sure, S for Smith or Sunshine, or Sally, but certainly not for Sudan. Some of you might remember S for Shishapangma or Summit from past adventures of mine. Nor to you hear R for Rwanda very often either. Do we say M for Mexico, or C for Canada? B for Brazil, or is it rather B for Boy? Where do our thoughts lie? Is it for our surroundings, for the world around us, for those who may be Suffering? Or is it rather for those things that are in front of us every day. B for brother. A brother who is learning how to live, how to survive, how to not get dragged down by his thoughts or the world. Is it B for Brazil, for those suffering in Rio whose fragile homes have been destroyed by the rain, by the mud. P for Poland as they suffer their loss. Just a few thoughts for today. In a few weeks I get to head over to TKU, for Tanzania, Kenya, and Uganda.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Room to Read school: we did it!
Over the past two and a half years, through generous contributions of friends and family, and especially with the push over the past month, collectively we raised more than enough funds to build a school in Nepal--this is awesome! Below is a flavor of who you all are.
A little bit more about you
You may have been there at the first fundraising event I held way back in May of 2007 at the Tattered Cover in downtown Denver. You saw me give my first presentation about Room to Read, and got a better sense of who is behind Room to Read by seeing John Wood appear on Oprah.
Or maybe you were combing through all of your hours and hours videos from years of visits to Nepal, extracting the best shorts of kids playing or singing around their villages as they raised money to support their school. Working with me to edit the shots down to a few that would work well together.
Maybe you were the one who left the signed copy of John Wood’s book “Leaving Microsoft to Change the World” on the counter, ready for me to pick up and start to read when the power went out that one day in January, almost three years ago. Maybe you were the one who sat with me at Sherpa’s in Boulder, brainstorming many times about how to raise money, about how not to fall short, not to give up, but how to go the whole way and inspire people to act.
Maybe you were there at my Shishapangma slideshow, hearing about my adventures in “Higher Education.” Maybe you were the one who gave me the idea of the title “Higher Education.” Maybe you saw my film about Everest, and shivered with me as I climbed the Lhotse face or the Hillary step. Or maybe you sat with me during one of many video edit sessions, pushing me to tell the whole story, to tell the right story, to not be constrained by time, to continue to be creative.
Maybe you were the one who took me to see Room to Read’s work in Nepal firsthand, encouraging me to keep fundraising, even if it is hard. Just maybe especially because it is hard.
Maybe you gave a little money at the door of a show, maybe you gave me what you had in your back pocket at a party, or maybe you were able to dig really deep into your own pockets. Maybe you were able to get your company to put money toward our effort, maybe you designed your very own search engine that would continually bring in more money for Room to Read. Maybe you were the anonymous donor who matched funds this holiday season. Or maybe you were unable to give much financially, but instead spread the word in different ways. You interviewed me, wrote about the effort on your blog, talked about it with your friends.
You might be an MIT alum who’s heard my stories about climbing and Nepal over the years. Or you might be a 5th grader at Mesa Elementary in Boulder who saw a little of my adventures and saw more how to be creative and brainstorm yourself how you could hold a story contest or a bake sale or a read-a-thon to raise money from your fellow students. Maybe you were inspired to reach out to your fellow high school students in Rhode Island and as your senior project you raised money for the school in Nepal.
Maybe you saw me at a big Neptune or CMC show, maybe it was a smaller show in Dillon, or maybe it was a personal one at your or my house. Maybe you were part of that book club reading John’s book, and heard me talk about Room to Read and Nepal and the great experiences in all.
Maybe you are my best friend. Maybe I’ve known you since we were 14, maybe you’ve known me since I was born, maybe we’ve worked together, maybe we’ve climbed the highest peaks in far away countries together, maybe we’ve only recently connected. Maybe we’ve taught or skied or climbed outside together, maybe we’ve read and discussed and echoed inside together, sat eating foreign foods and dreamt ideas about how to help the world together, or wrote notes to each other, communicating the necessities on our silent meditation day. Maybe you were a stranger until you happened upon a show of mine, or someone forwarded an email about this project to you. Maybe we were friends and you have moved away physically, but not in our thoughts. You are my friends, you are my family.
You are one hundred and eighty persons strong and I thank each and every one of you. As Room to Read says, “World change starts with educated children.” Yes, but there is more. It begins in your heart. Thank you for being part of this.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Help build a school in Nepal!
Can you donate to help build a new school (and donate in November)?
During the month of November only, Room to Read has an anonymous donor who will match all on-line contributions. This is huge news. So, if you donate $100, $200 gets credited toward our project. If you donate $20, $40 gets credited. I am very excited about this opportunity, and I hope you are too.
Let’s use the matching opportunity to raise the rest of the funds during November. Could you donate $100 today? Can you donate more? If not, could you donate $25? Everything single dollar helps. Here’s what to do:
To donate and get credited toward the school (this is important), use this link: https://www.roomtoread.org/SSLPage.aspx?pid=184&source=PS-Hovland07
Donate by November 30 to double your money-go ahead and make a tax deductible donation today. Once you click the link, select the amount you want to donate, put in your billing and payment information, and you’re done!
Please email me if you donate so I can make sure it gets counted toward the school
Namaste,
Val
During the month of November only, Room to Read has an anonymous donor who will match all on-line contributions. This is huge news. So, if you donate $100, $200 gets credited toward our project. If you donate $20, $40 gets credited. I am very excited about this opportunity, and I hope you are too.
Let’s use the matching opportunity to raise the rest of the funds during November. Could you donate $100 today? Can you donate more? If not, could you donate $25? Everything single dollar helps. Here’s what to do:
To donate and get credited toward the school (this is important), use this link: https://www.roomtoread.org/SSLPage.aspx?pid=184&source=PS-Hovland07
Donate by November 30 to double your money-go ahead and make a tax deductible donation today. Once you click the link, select the amount you want to donate, put in your billing and payment information, and you’re done!
Please email me if you donate so I can make sure it gets counted toward the school
Namaste,
Val
Stories about education from Nepal (spring 2008)
There were five of us crammed into a tiny little white car, journeying a few hours into the countryside of Nepal, just outside Kathmandu. We were going to visit a few schools and libraries that Room to Read has created over the past decade
. ‘We’ included Rajeev, in charge of libraries for Room to Read across all of Nepal, a new Nepali woman in charge of monitoring and evaluating how the schools and libraries in this region are doing, and me. On the way out of town, we drove past gas stations that had lines of cars waiting, occupants waiting almost a day to get fuel. Slowly we left the craziness of Kathmandu and began to see more and more space. Fields of green appeared, growing beans or corn, wheat or sugarcane. After all, three-quarters of Nepalis are dependent on agriculture for their living, so you would expect to see a lot of it.
We wound through one small town, back into the countryside, and again into another town. The paved road became bumpier. Eventually we turned off of the paved road onto a dirt road. Then the dirt road became bumpier. So eventually we stopped and got out on foot. We were on our way to see a Room to Read library. Along the way we saw women working the rice fields, a group from the village all working together in a line, wearing brightly colored dresses, their feet in water. A few boys were nearby, working an ox to help plow the fields.
After walking for another half an hour along the road, ducking into the nearest building for a little cover from the rain shower for a few minutes, we made it to the library. And that is where the little girl in red in the attached picture likes to hang out.
She lives in this remote village, her parents undoubtedly farming nearby. She had access to a school, but until Room to Read helped out, she used to have almost no access to books. Do you remember when you were little and got into reading for the first time? Maybe you were reading in your kitchen to your mom, or outside in the sun reading about an adventurous young girl or boy, or maybe you were engrossed in a book sitting your school library. Now the little girl in red has the same opportunities. The library
had its own small ‘block’ for a building, that being donated by the community as part of the community challenge grant (where Room to Read partners with the community, both parties putting effort into realizing the school or library). Most of the books were in Nepali, but some were in Nepali and English. Hundreds of books had been checked out and checked back in. From colorful ones to engage younger students through technical ones to help the teachers and community members learn more and change the way they do things. Many little things add up to big things. And the sign on the wall with colorful elephants and tigers and a little girl says, “All of the animals are in the library reading books. Where are you?”
In another village, there was a school. A newly reconstructed Room to Read school..jpg)
The old school had been almost falling down. Can you picture going to school and trying to learn in a room where if it rains, the incoming water might make you stop? In global education-speak, the quality environment just wasn’t there. In a country where almost half of the people are unemployed, and almost a third are living below the poverty line, it can sometimes be hard to keep up a school. But the desire to do so is great. And that is where Room to Read came in. In conjunction with the community to help reconstruct the school and with Nepal’s Ministry of Education to provide the teachers, Room to Read built a new school in 2008. It was a primary school, complete with a room for every grade, bright colors on the walls, a stocked library with sections for young kids, older kids, and resources for the teachers. They even thought of little things like having a shorter chalkboard for the first grade class, so the children could reach it and see it easily. And that school is where the kids in uniforms
with the huge smiles on their faces in the attached picture went to school. We were there during a time where almost all other schools were not yet in session as they should be-this was due to a delay in books being delivered to the schools because of Nepal’s national election in April 2008
(resources had been diverted from printing school books to printing election materials instead). So at a time when almost no other kids were in school, these kids were in school. They were lining up to go into the library. They were studying in their classrooms. And as we could see, they were really happy to be there.
. ‘We’ included Rajeev, in charge of libraries for Room to Read across all of Nepal, a new Nepali woman in charge of monitoring and evaluating how the schools and libraries in this region are doing, and me. On the way out of town, we drove past gas stations that had lines of cars waiting, occupants waiting almost a day to get fuel. Slowly we left the craziness of Kathmandu and began to see more and more space. Fields of green appeared, growing beans or corn, wheat or sugarcane. After all, three-quarters of Nepalis are dependent on agriculture for their living, so you would expect to see a lot of it.We wound through one small town, back into the countryside, and again into another town. The paved road became bumpier. Eventually we turned off of the paved road onto a dirt road. Then the dirt road became bumpier. So eventually we stopped and got out on foot. We were on our way to see a Room to Read library. Along the way we saw women working the rice fields, a group from the village all working together in a line, wearing brightly colored dresses, their feet in water. A few boys were nearby, working an ox to help plow the fields.
After walking for another half an hour along the road, ducking into the nearest building for a little cover from the rain shower for a few minutes, we made it to the library. And that is where the little girl in red in the attached picture likes to hang out.
She lives in this remote village, her parents undoubtedly farming nearby. She had access to a school, but until Room to Read helped out, she used to have almost no access to books. Do you remember when you were little and got into reading for the first time? Maybe you were reading in your kitchen to your mom, or outside in the sun reading about an adventurous young girl or boy, or maybe you were engrossed in a book sitting your school library. Now the little girl in red has the same opportunities. The library
had its own small ‘block’ for a building, that being donated by the community as part of the community challenge grant (where Room to Read partners with the community, both parties putting effort into realizing the school or library). Most of the books were in Nepali, but some were in Nepali and English. Hundreds of books had been checked out and checked back in. From colorful ones to engage younger students through technical ones to help the teachers and community members learn more and change the way they do things. Many little things add up to big things. And the sign on the wall with colorful elephants and tigers and a little girl says, “All of the animals are in the library reading books. Where are you?”In another village, there was a school. A newly reconstructed Room to Read school.
.jpg)
The old school had been almost falling down. Can you picture going to school and trying to learn in a room where if it rains, the incoming water might make you stop? In global education-speak, the quality environment just wasn’t there. In a country where almost half of the people are unemployed, and almost a third are living below the poverty line, it can sometimes be hard to keep up a school. But the desire to do so is great. And that is where Room to Read came in. In conjunction with the community to help reconstruct the school and with Nepal’s Ministry of Education to provide the teachers, Room to Read built a new school in 2008. It was a primary school, complete with a room for every grade, bright colors on the walls, a stocked library with sections for young kids, older kids, and resources for the teachers. They even thought of little things like having a shorter chalkboard for the first grade class, so the children could reach it and see it easily. And that school is where the kids in uniforms
with the huge smiles on their faces in the attached picture went to school. We were there during a time where almost all other schools were not yet in session as they should be-this was due to a delay in books being delivered to the schools because of Nepal’s national election in April 2008
(resources had been diverted from printing school books to printing election materials instead). So at a time when almost no other kids were in school, these kids were in school. They were lining up to go into the library. They were studying in their classrooms. And as we could see, they were really happy to be there.
Friday, October 16, 2009
A different span of a day
5:20pm, Day X: Speeding down the hill from Marangu, Tanzania, no seatbelt in sight, listening to Kenny Rogers in the bus (reminds me of my grandpa, "you got to know when to hold 'em"), getting slightly spit on by the rain coming in through the window, feeling soooo happy to be off of my feet (it was a long hike down 9,000 feet that day), and drying out (again).
5:20pm, Day X-1: Arriving at Gilman's Point, around 18,500 feet above sea level (or so). The steep part of the climb is over, and the first view of the dry, moon-like crater of Kilimanjaro appears. There is only a hint of a glacier across the crater, most of the 'snows of Kilimanjaro' having disappeared in the span of a few years. The sun is low, but still bright, and the ridge to the summit looks fun!
3pm, Day X: Hiking down. From Kibo past Horombo past Mandara, but not yet to the gate. From snow to rock to dirt (no longer dust). From the alpine desert through the moorland and into the forest. It is humid and smells so good (especially those little white flowers). The ferns and moss are thick on the trees. Unfortunately, . . . it just started raining. Again. Like Africa forgot that I already knew what it was like to be wet, hiking down from a big mountain. This time, of course, I was both more prepared and more willing (in a way). The big yellow plastic rain cover comes out (immediately) to cover me and my pack. The sleeves get rolled up past my elbows to avoid the drip when you're hiking with poles. And that part of my pants below mid-thigh? Easily accepted that it will be just plain wet and stick to your leg in that annoying way. My feet hurt from hiking down sooo much today (you know the feeling when you're almost getting blisters on the bottom of your feet?), but other than that, the rest of my body feels good. Sometimes, though, you really really want that last two miles to just disappear.
3pm, Day X-1: We're on the way to the summit. We being me and Alex, my local guide on Kili. The national park requires that you have a guide, and mine was great. Especially since he suggested changing up the typical approach toward when we climb, which is why we are here now. Most people climb up to Kibo hut (15,400 ft) on one day, then rest for a few hours, get up at 11pm, leave at midnight for the summit, and get a sunrise view from the top. Problems with this approach: 1) your sleep schedule is disrupted, 2) you are climbing when you are sleepy, 3) you have less energy in the middle of the night, 4) on your return, you only get to sleep a few hours before descending to a lower altitude, ... but the biggest problem is 5) everybody and their brother goes at this time. And the hidden problems that we actually didn't know about until the next morning: 6) a storm will roll in that night putting snow and ice on the route (not making it dangerous, just more of a pain), and 7) a huge lenticular cloud with its associated high winds will descend on the mountain, masking the views of the 'sunrise' anyway. Fortunately, instead of the traditional approach, Alex suggested that since we're fast (strong like lioness), that we rest for a few hours at Kibo, then continue on up to Uhuru (the summit) on the same day. Unfortunately (for some reason), Africa likes to hail on me at 16,600 feet. Just like on Batian climbing in the Amphitheater. So it is hailing on me. Let's put on the coat and pack cover and give it an hour (it'll stop, I know it will).
12pm, Day X: Hiking down, just below Horombo. You've left the snow and lenticulars behind, and have had a last lunch at the huts at Horombo (and even used Alex's cell phone to update the blog, but are tired of typing in 10-digits).
12pm, Day X-1: Almost ready to sleep for an hour. At Kibo hut (15.4k), there are 12 bunks in your room (and yes the 5 that are filled will all wake you up in 12 hours time when they are going for the summit). You've just eaten your lunch, and are changing and packing for the summit push. Packing while ensconced in your sleeping bag of course, because it is cold in here, and your fingers have a tiny tingle due to the cold and altitude.
9:15am, Day X: Hiking down, at the "last water point," around 14,000 feet or so. The snows used to reach down here, but now it is dry from here to above Gilman's point. There is a crew of three building a new toilet facility (upgraded from the pits), listening to music.
9:15am, Day X-1: Hiking up, at the "last water point." The morning started with a good breakfast of an omlette, tea, avocado, and toast. Say "Jambo" and dance a little with the construction crew.
...
6:20pm, Day X: Back in Moshi, at the Kilicrane hotel. Your feet are finally up, done hiking for the meantime. Time to relax.
6:20pm, Day X-1: At the roof of Africa: Uhuru point, 5895 meters, or 19,340 feet. The summit of Kilimanjaro. The sun is just about to set, and has its characteristic strong orange glow. A glacier is to the left. The last ridge from Gilman's point was fun: you alternated between "speed racer" when the ridge offered a down section, and "well, faster than a snail, but..." when the ridge went up. But in total you made good time from Kibo (4:15). An awesome part about the climb is that it was just you two--no one else on the mountain at all; a treat. Right now, though, it is getting colder, starting to snow (it'll keep it up the whole way down), and it is time to head down. Back home.
5:20pm, Day X-1: Arriving at Gilman's Point, around 18,500 feet above sea level (or so). The steep part of the climb is over, and the first view of the dry, moon-like crater of Kilimanjaro appears. There is only a hint of a glacier across the crater, most of the 'snows of Kilimanjaro' having disappeared in the span of a few years. The sun is low, but still bright, and the ridge to the summit looks fun!
3pm, Day X: Hiking down. From Kibo past Horombo past Mandara, but not yet to the gate. From snow to rock to dirt (no longer dust). From the alpine desert through the moorland and into the forest. It is humid and smells so good (especially those little white flowers). The ferns and moss are thick on the trees. Unfortunately, . . . it just started raining. Again. Like Africa forgot that I already knew what it was like to be wet, hiking down from a big mountain. This time, of course, I was both more prepared and more willing (in a way). The big yellow plastic rain cover comes out (immediately) to cover me and my pack. The sleeves get rolled up past my elbows to avoid the drip when you're hiking with poles. And that part of my pants below mid-thigh? Easily accepted that it will be just plain wet and stick to your leg in that annoying way. My feet hurt from hiking down sooo much today (you know the feeling when you're almost getting blisters on the bottom of your feet?), but other than that, the rest of my body feels good. Sometimes, though, you really really want that last two miles to just disappear.
3pm, Day X-1: We're on the way to the summit. We being me and Alex, my local guide on Kili. The national park requires that you have a guide, and mine was great. Especially since he suggested changing up the typical approach toward when we climb, which is why we are here now. Most people climb up to Kibo hut (15,400 ft) on one day, then rest for a few hours, get up at 11pm, leave at midnight for the summit, and get a sunrise view from the top. Problems with this approach: 1) your sleep schedule is disrupted, 2) you are climbing when you are sleepy, 3) you have less energy in the middle of the night, 4) on your return, you only get to sleep a few hours before descending to a lower altitude, ... but the biggest problem is 5) everybody and their brother goes at this time. And the hidden problems that we actually didn't know about until the next morning: 6) a storm will roll in that night putting snow and ice on the route (not making it dangerous, just more of a pain), and 7) a huge lenticular cloud with its associated high winds will descend on the mountain, masking the views of the 'sunrise' anyway. Fortunately, instead of the traditional approach, Alex suggested that since we're fast (strong like lioness), that we rest for a few hours at Kibo, then continue on up to Uhuru (the summit) on the same day. Unfortunately (for some reason), Africa likes to hail on me at 16,600 feet. Just like on Batian climbing in the Amphitheater. So it is hailing on me. Let's put on the coat and pack cover and give it an hour (it'll stop, I know it will).
12pm, Day X: Hiking down, just below Horombo. You've left the snow and lenticulars behind, and have had a last lunch at the huts at Horombo (and even used Alex's cell phone to update the blog, but are tired of typing in 10-digits).
12pm, Day X-1: Almost ready to sleep for an hour. At Kibo hut (15.4k), there are 12 bunks in your room (and yes the 5 that are filled will all wake you up in 12 hours time when they are going for the summit). You've just eaten your lunch, and are changing and packing for the summit push. Packing while ensconced in your sleeping bag of course, because it is cold in here, and your fingers have a tiny tingle due to the cold and altitude.
9:15am, Day X: Hiking down, at the "last water point," around 14,000 feet or so. The snows used to reach down here, but now it is dry from here to above Gilman's point. There is a crew of three building a new toilet facility (upgraded from the pits), listening to music.
9:15am, Day X-1: Hiking up, at the "last water point." The morning started with a good breakfast of an omlette, tea, avocado, and toast. Say "Jambo" and dance a little with the construction crew.
...
6:20pm, Day X: Back in Moshi, at the Kilicrane hotel. Your feet are finally up, done hiking for the meantime. Time to relax.
6:20pm, Day X-1: At the roof of Africa: Uhuru point, 5895 meters, or 19,340 feet. The summit of Kilimanjaro. The sun is just about to set, and has its characteristic strong orange glow. A glacier is to the left. The last ridge from Gilman's point was fun: you alternated between "speed racer" when the ridge offered a down section, and "well, faster than a snail, but..." when the ridge went up. But in total you made good time from Kibo (4:15). An awesome part about the climb is that it was just you two--no one else on the mountain at all; a treat. Right now, though, it is getting colder, starting to snow (it'll keep it up the whole way down), and it is time to head down. Back home.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Sunset from the roof of Africa
Yesterday afternoon, we bucked the trend & climbed to the summit of Kili (instead of climbing in the night)! We were rewarded with a mountain entirely to ourselves and a beautiful sunset ... & light snow the whole way down. Back to Moshi tonight. More later!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
The sun is setting at Horombo
And it is beautiful. It has the alpine feel of up high on mt rainier,
... except for the fried bananas, veggie and beef dinner, German,
norwegian and Italian hut mates, and flush toilets. Ah the life!
... except for the fried bananas, veggie and beef dinner, German,
norwegian and Italian hut mates, and flush toilets. Ah the life!
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