When I was a little girl I wanted to grow up to be a spy – Harriet the Spy, to be exact. She spied on people and wrote about the world around her – I thought that was neat. Just like Harriet, I would run around my neighborhood and hide behind cars and write about the things I saw in my composition notebook.
“There are as many ways to live in this world as there are people in this world, and each one deserves a closer look.” – Harriet the Spy
In a way, I still want to be Harriet the Spy. She is a writer – I like to write. My only problem is that I’m too insecure to ever try to create something and put it out there for people to read. I took a few writing classes in college. Because I was compelled to write in college I actually think I produced some adequate pieces of art. But I haven’t really written anything since then.
At the end of February my friend Chelsea, the person who introduced me to the World Race, said I should start writing again. Chelsea knows me through and through, so I took her advice to heart. Also, I just needed a good kick in the rear to get me going.
As a result, I wrote an essay about an experience I had in Africa, and I’d like to share it with you now. But first, a few disclaimers…
1) It’s a bit long, so I recommend grabbing a Coke, kicking up your feet and reading it all in one sitting.
2) The experience I wrote about happened among the girls on my team, so the guys (Adam and Geoff) are not included.
3) Here are a few pictures of some people, places and events that are mentioned in the essay…
Reagan tells the woman to continue. She mumbles to him quickly again, and again he has to cut her off to translate for us, “Four of her daughters have been stolen and sold somewhere into marriage. She is scared her other daughters will be taken too.” He points to the small child on her lap – “this is one of her daughters.” She is two, maybe three years old. I catch a glimpse of her big brown eyes – they speak of innocence. I wonder how long it will last.
