Every time I have sat down the past two months to write a blog, I write three full pages, and then find myself deleting the whole thing, promising myself that I'll try again and get it right tomorrow, or the next day. I can't seem to get it right.
I want to tell you, my supports, friends, family, acquaintances, about the amazing things that fill my life right now. But I can't.
I want to tell you about the beauty of the mountains that surrounded us in Swaziland where we lived in huts, and the ocean which is a 7 minute walk from our camp in South Africa. I want to talk about the beauty of the people and the culture and the languages. About my new friendships with our neighbors and contacts. About the funny things that the kids have said to us in their broken English.
But I can't. Because if I tell you about the beauty and splendor that makes up my days here, then I have to tell you about the pain infused in that beauty. I have to tell you about the disease that is infecting and killing an entire country. About the condoms and AIDS posters that infiltrate every stall of every bathroom in Swaziland. About the aggressive behavior of the children in South Africa due to the abuse in their homes. About the hypersexualization of nearly every child in both places. About the six people we watched die over the coarse of one week in Swazi. About the 17 year old who told me stories of his life as a gangster, doing jail time for killing 8 people by the age of 14. About the stories of Rape and drugs and death that have been relayed to us from victims.
These places are beautiful and terrible, and I want you to know about them! But I don't know how to tell you about them.
