She’s hung with First Lady Laura Bush and American Idol contestant Melinda Doolittle, but you would never recognize her name or her face. But when you hear her story, you can’t help but see her as a hero, as someone who deserves to be well-known.

Every so often at work we have “Lunch and Learn” events, where you bring your lunch and learn about a certain topic. Sometimes you’ll hear about a project in a different country, and sometimes you’ll learn about something new going on within the organization. Today’s Lunch and Learn was an intimate gathering with Lister Chingangu, a caregiver from Zambia. Over the past three weeks, she has visited 13 states, speaking at churches and also advocating on Capitol Hill for government funding to fight AIDS, malaria, and TB.

Last year, when Laura Bush and Melinda Doolittle visited Zambia and handed out mosquito nets, Lister was there. She and Mrs. Bush greeted one another with a handshake. This time, when they reunited in D.C., they greeted each other with a hug, Lister said.

Seven years ago, Lister– a pastor’s wife–started a ministry called God Our Help Ministries in Lusaka, Zambia. Her program trains volunteers from the community of about 100,000 who visit people living with HIV or AIDS in their homes, and cares for them and their families. Lister described a typical visit: cooking a meal for the patient while bathing and changing them; talking to their kids to see how they are doing, encouraging them to go to school; giving the patient medicine; reading the Bible to them. And they don’t just visit one patient a day. They often visit up to 10 people in one day!

One of the connections between Lister and World Vision is that her ministry uses Caregiver Kits that are put together by World Vision donors. Many churches (and other groups) donate money that goes toward buying supplies (cotton balls, bandages, petroleum jelly, gloves, flashlights–or “torches” as Lister calls them) to put into plastic cases that the caregivers take around on their home visits. With patients who are seriously ill, the kit can last 5-6 weeks. With patients who aren’t as sick, one kit can last up to 3 months. Each kit also includes a handwritten note from the person from the church or group that assembled the kit. Lister said she always reads the note to the patient, and the patient is always so grateful that someone is thinking of them. Prior to having the Caregiver Kits, the caregivers had to improvise, such as tying plastic bags onto their hands in place of gloves.

There are thousands of home-based caregivers like Lister in Zambia, and Lister’s own ministry has about 65. They are trained to care for and love people who are sick–many of them dying. Many of the caregivers get around by bike, and are helping people the entire day. The cool thing is that once patients are taking antiretroviral medicine, they often get their strength back and can work a little. Many of them even are so touched by the care they’ve received that they ask to become trained to be a volunteer caregiver, too. They are in an awesome position to encourage people to get tested for HIV and to take medicine. Fortunately, the stigma surrounding AIDS isn’t as strong as it was before, thanks to more and more people being educated about the disease.

So why do they do it? Lister said as Christians, we are called to help the widows and children, and they take that call literally. Christ says that when we are feeding the hungry and helping the sick, we are in a sense helping Him. Lister said that those verses motivate her to do this selfless, tiring work each day. On top of that, the people they are helping are in their community, which makes them family. How many of us could say that people in our community are family? Would I volunteer to wipe up my neighbor’s wounds, cook them meals, and bathe them each night? Sadly, I don’t think I would. I wouldn’t consider them family simply because I live next door to them.

When the caregivers cook food for their patients, the meals are made with their own ingredients, bought with their own money. But since these caregivers are volunteering all day, they have very little money–mostly from side jobs that they manage to keep to make a little income. To us, it’s a huge sacrifice to help other people when you’re barely scraping by. To Lister, she shrugs and says, “You only need very little to be able to give.” Later on, she adds, “We are happy to give, because God always provides the next day.”

That just blew me away. How many times have we said that when we have more money, a bigger house, a better job, a bigger car, THEN we will help other people? Then we can tithe more, donate more to charity, take in people who need a room, give people rides? But I highly doubt we will ever feel like we have “enough.” So to hear this woman say that you only need very little to be able to give was such an encouragement.

In addition to being such a genuine, humble woman with an amazing heart, she was just so gosh darn cute. She said that when she arrived in the States, she spoke with her kids back in Lusaka who asked her, “Mommy, what is it like there?” Lister got this look on her face that made her look so excited and child-like as she said, “I told them, ‘It’s just like in the movies!!’”

I wish you all could have seen her and heard her story. I was just in awe of this woman. Oftentimes, we’re inspired and impressed by people who volunteer their time to help others. But these caregivers are full-time volunteers–and the work they do is tough and draining, both physically and emotionally. They are true heroes in my book.

Click here to read more about why Lister was visiting the States. Here is more about the Caregiver Kits, plus a photo of Lister.

If someone came to your door, begging you to hide them because people of their ethnicity were being killed, what would you do? Shut the door before they could come in? Tell them you’ll pray for them and then send them next door? Or take them in, knowing full well that you were risking your own life?

When faced with this situation, Paul Rusesabagina, hid more than 1,200 ethnic Tutsis in the hotel where he worked in Rwanda. More than once, his life was threatened, but each time, he negotiated with the militia who were seeking out the Tutsis, and was able to survive the confrontation. Sadly, although Paul helped those who came to him, more than 800,000 people died over a span of 100 days in Rwanda. Paul’s story and the events of the Rwandan genocide were captured in a movie, “Hotel Rwanda.”

Last Friday, I had the privilege of hearing Paul speak for an hour at the Elliott Bay Bookstore in Seattle. He recently published a book called “An Ordinary Man,” which tells about his experience during the genocide. I was truly amazed that this guy, whose life I had seen in “Hotel Rwanda,” was standing before me, talking about his experience so calmly.

One thing he said was to not underestimate the power of words. Many times when he was confronted by the militia, he calmly stepped forward and used words to relate–not knives or guns. He soon realized that words were more effective than violence or force. Another thing that stuck out to me was when someone asked him about his experience with Don Cheadle, the actor who portrayed him in “Hotel Rwanda.” Paul said, “I spent time with Don so that he could see that I am not a Superman.” I think it’s so easy to see admirable figures like this, and to place them on a pedestal. That’s great, but there is a danger in doing that. When we see people as great, extraordinary figures, we separate them from ourselves. When we separate ourselves from them, we also put their abilities in one box and our abilities in another, meaning, we say, “He’s this great guy so of course he was brave enough to hide people in the hotel. I, on the other hand, am not special, so I wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

Paul wanted to emphasize that he was not a Superman, because he just did what he felt he had to do to help people. If he is just like you and me, that means we should also feel like we could do great things to help other people. We shouldn’t feel like we have to be qualified in any way to help people in need. The reaction to help others in need, in danger, should be automatic. Unfortunately, it’s not, and I’m speaking for myself.

When I see someone in need or if someone asks me for help, I’m ashamed to say, but oftentimes, my first thought is to wonder how it will affect me. Will I be inconvenienced? Am I putting myself in harm’s way? If Paul had reacted in that way, 1,200+ people would not be alive today. And he was just an ordinary man, not a Superman, as he says. I–along with those 1,200+– people would disagree, but his life just shows that we are all capable of what he did.

(I’m on a waiting list to check out Paul’s book from the library, but I’ve also read “Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust” by Immaculee Ilibagiza, which is a powerful first-person account of a girl’s experience in the genocide. She, along with some other women, hid in a bathroom for several months, as people frequently came to the house, searching for them.)

…and he can feast for days!

Moving up here to Seattle has opened up a whole list of activities that Matt and I have never thought of. One such activity is crabbing. And not just crabbing the old-fashioned way of setting out crab pots (traps) and waiting for the little buggers to crawl in. Matt’s childhood friend passed on the crabbing method that he learned–just grab the crab.

We were out on the water around 8:30 on a low-tide morning. The water had receded, leaving a shallow layer of water and sheets of seaweed about ankle- to knee-deep. We put on our new aqua socks and trudged through the sludge, sinking into the mud with each step. As we walked further out into the water, we left footprints in the seaweed. It was a hilarous process of getting used to walking through the mud. There was a lot of laughing and slurping of the mud around our feet.

When we got out to where there was more water than mud, we learned the tricks of the trade. Slowly walk through the water and sweep your feet along the surface of the sand. If you feel something hard, put pressure on it. If it’s firm and resistant, it’s a rock. If it gives a little, it may be a crab. (Even with these instructions, I pulled up plenty of rocks that I thought could be crabs.) When you’re stepping on what could be a crab, let your foot up a little bit. If the object pushes up a bit or if you feel it move, keep your foot on it. Then reach down with your hand, grab the end that is not pushing up (the crab will push up with its head), and pull it out of the water.

Some of us wore gloves for good reason. And even with gloves, I didn’t get away without a couple of scars. Those pinchers are mighty strong, and those crabs are stubborn. It was a little nervewracking at first, not knowing exactly how the crab would feel under my foot, or not knowing if I was brushing past a crab that was going to pinch my ankle. Or how would it feel trying to pick up a crab? For awhile, I didn’t feel anything that could be a crab, and I was getting discouraged watching people around me pick up crabs left and right. The next time someone caught a crab, I asked to have it put under my foot so I could know how it felt.

I picked up a couple of crabs after that, but had to chuck them back in the water because they were either too small or were female (there are rules about what you can keep). Along the way, I saw a small (dead) starfish, and a jellyfish that was pulsating in the water. In the end, with 7 of us crabbing, we had 27 crabs for lunch.

I felt a little barbaric, watching the crabs get dunked into boiling hot water. They turned bright red in the water and took on a dull color as they dried in the sun. Potatoes and corn were thrown into the pot, and we ended up with a tasty, filling lunch. We all sat on some logs and feasted on our catch. Boy, those crabs were amazing. It’s troublesome to have to crack them and try to avoid the juice dripping out of them, but they tasted SO good, even without any seasoning or butter. Aside from the sun beating down on us (causing my sunburn, grrrr…), it was a perfect lunch.

Here are some of my favorite pics from the day…

One of the items on my things-to-do-in-my-lifetime list is to become a librarian. Not so much because I love books (which I do!), but also because I loved the idea of scanning barcodes in the library books. Whenever stores or libraries offer self check-out lanes, I’m the first one there. IKEA also has a self check-out lane, which I’d like to use one day. I like the process of angling the barcode just so, so that the price shows up on the monitor. But what I like more than that is the little scanner pen that librarians used to use to check out books.

Only about 10 years ago, librarians wielded their silver scanning pen, scanned the barcode on my library card, opened up each book to find the barcode and scanned it. Then they’d take a small stack of books at a time and rub the book spines along a demagnetizer so that you wouldn’t set off the alarm when you walked out of the library.

I recently went to the super-cool library in downtown Seattle and was sorely disappointed at their check-out system. They did have a self check-out system, which I tried to use. There was a handheld scanner in a little holder to scan your library card–which I did. I didn’t read the instructions quite carefully enough and began scanning each book’s barcode. The librarian came over and corrected me. The scanner was for the library card, but only for that. The books were to be arranged side-by-side on a large metal plate on the counter. The computer would then detect the books, log them into your account, and demagnetize them–all without the brandish of a single scanning pen.

“What is this world coming to? That takes the fun out of checking out books!” I complained to Matt as we walked out of the library. What’s next? Will you just have to walk out with the books, and a computer will detect your identity AND check out your books without even having to line up at a counter?

Sometimes, technological improvements are good. At Costco, or what was then Price Club, two people used to be necessary to check someone out. One person would read the item numbers while the other entered them into the cash register. With a slip of a finger or an error of a dyslexic employee, you could end up buying a $30,000 diamond ring (which they DO sell there, and which I think is a crazy, idiotic thing to buy–but that’s another blog entry) instead of a $10 50-pack of toilet paper. The lines go a lot faster with a quick scan of the barcode instead of having someone read off of the item numbers. So yes, in that case, I applaud technology.

But with PDAs, crazy large do-it-all cell phones, and even e-mail (which I do love, but I like snail mail even better), I can’t wholeheartedly support all those things. Call me simple and a little backwards, but I still use post-its, a physical address book, and–if i’m lucky enough to have a penpal–stationery.

So when it comes to library check-out systems, I will be at the front of the picket line (and I think I can get Abby and Deb to join me) yelling out, “Bring back the scanning pen!!” After all, when I am retired or once my kids are in school, my fingers will be itching to hold the scanning pen.

It’s been pretty overcast the whole week, but the sun and blue sky came out yesterday–just in time for the weekend.

My weekend started off with a fun night at Century Ballroom, salsa dancing with Kari, a summer intern at WV. She and I started off with the hour-long lesson which taught the basic step and turn. As more and more girls entered the room, we thought, “More guys better show up for the open dance session!” And they did. By the time the open dance session started, there were probably about 100 people there. It was so much fun. It was one of those dance places where people come up to you and ask you to dance for one or two songs, but they just want to dance–not get all chummy and actually talk to you. It’s weird when they DO talk. :P

Today, Matt and I took the Stynkbg to get a smog check so that I could register her in Washington. But she failed the test!! It was horribly disappointing to get the result sheet from the smog tester and read “FAILED.” I wanted to ask, “Can I do some extra credit??” The reason was the stupid “check engine” light that is always on! I have gotten it turned off many times, but it always comes back on, even though nothing is wrong with the car. So I have to take it somewhere to get fixed and then bring it back for a retest. Argh.

After that, we went to Lake Sammamish State Park, which was a little disappointing. There’s a huge lake where people take their boats or wade in (along with ducks–which means duck poo IN the water). We found some sort of hiking “trail,” which was more like a dirt/grass road with high grass and blackberry bushes on each side. We followed the trail and ended up next to a soccer field—and Costco across the street. We went into Costco with our waterpacks on our backs and snagged food samples…and then disappeared back into the bushes from which we came. It was really weird trying to be out in nature but with Costco and a main street not too far away.

Watched “Pirates of the Caribbean” after that (fun, exciting movie, but a little disappointing that not everything was resolved–which just means another movie!). For the past four hours, I’ve been posting pics to the gallery and Matt has been playing Super Mario Brothers 2. I don’t think he will stop until he finally beats the game, hopefully tonight.

I’m glad to have a gallery back up, although I’m not going to post all the pics I had previously in my gallery. There were too many, and I would like to think I have better things to do with my time. ;) I don’t know if this is standard, but my thumbnails for each gallery album is just a square. This means that some pics are cropped in the thumbnail, which is annoying to me. Does anyone know if this can be fixed?

Ugh, I smell cigarette smoke wafting through our front windows. Time to close them (discreetly) and shower. Happy weekend!!

I no longer have to update taffystay.wordpress.com, but feel free to check back at the site to read some of my ramblings from the last few weeks. Sometimes this site is weird. It will show up blank, but after you hit the “reload” button, everything shows up. Now to put new pics in my gallery!

“Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!”

If I see one more of these generic WP welcome posts, I will sscrreeeamm!! In other words, I feel like I’ve spent more time trying to set up blogs than update them! But I’m on my way now…

Thanks Kit!