Ian

I have somehow been blessed, lucky, or skillful to find myself surrounded by the most amazing, selfless group of people anyone could ever wish for. My i-ACT team is a team! As a group, it flows and adapts and gets the job done, no matter how difficult or extreme the conditions. As individuals, they are each so talented and sincere and true.

I’m now going to get more personal and mention some of them by name, and I hope those that I don’t mention don’t feel offended.

KTJ thinks she’s the funniest person on earth. I at times try to humor her and laugh. Most of the time, I am actually laughing at how not funny her improvised joke, act, or dance is! She’ll tell me, “You see! I am funny!” She is also all dedication and heart. She is so tough, but she is also so soft. It is the perfect combination; she is the prototype for an activist. A few days ago, as she was hugging 71 year old Fatne, a woman who crossed the desert on her bare feet after her village was destroyed and more than 50 members of her immediate community killed, I saw and felt all the emotions every human should feel and express towards other human beings.

I feel peace and a unique sense of clarity by just thinking of my friend and brother Yuen-Lin. When first dreaming of i-ACT–the concept, spirit, and actual project–Yuen-Lin called me from Malaysia. I told him about this crazy idea. I could feel his sense of wonder and excitement at being able to make this happen. He told me, “I don’t work on anything related to what you are telling me, but I will figure out how to do it.” We all call him our Tech-Guru, but he is so much more. He has been out on i-ACT missions twice with me, and the insights I gain from being next to him are invaluable. He strongly believes in peace, but in an active, proactive, peace. He uses his knowledge to allow people to come together across oceans and continents. YL is generous and allows himself to enter in to a relationship of commitment with each individual he meets at the camps. He truly feels responsible for their well-being. YL recently switched jobs, and he actually took a pay-cut in this voluntary switch. He did this because the new job would give him new tools and knowledge that would benefit our mission. That’s my brother YL.

My man Eric is everything. I felt such a sense of security with him on this i-ACT mission. He knows computers and websites and software and video editing. He is tough, in shape, and fearless enough to race motorcycles. He also can go without sleeping, when he feels he needs to get a job done. Our production as a team has probably doubled since E joined the team. As everyone else besides KTJ and I, E has a full-time job, so he took unpaid vacation to be with us on this trip. E is like a peace special-ops soldier. He is focused and ready for anything that comes. Right before going to camp one day, he ran and puked in the compound bathroom–probably something that he ate or drank. He ran back to the Land Cruiser and jumped in. “I’m good.” He then spent the next 5 hours in 110 degree heat working his ass off at the refugee camp.

To see the camps, the people, and the crisis through the eyes of Ian has been energizing. Ian comes from the movie business and has pop-references for just about any situation we find ourselves in. He also has great insight on how to bring two apparently opposite worlds together, the pop and the refugee. Another talent is his knack at finding the right theme song of the day on his iphone, be it Michael’s Man in the Mirror (weird when we heard he had died, two days after our theme song was played) or songs by anyone from U2 to JayZ. With IH, we laughed and laughed and laughed. And laughing is very much needed out here. IH is so talented with the camera and with his video editing. He can tell a story, and he can package a message that will get through. He was perfect for this mission. When he first asked me if we needed him on this trip, I told that for sure we could use him, but we did not have the budget for an extra person. IH, in between jobs and far from independently wealthy, immediately said, “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get myself over there.” And he did. Look at his video work, and you will see half of why he has been great to have out here. The other half is the humanity and friendship that he adds to the team and to our relationship with the refugees.

The other members of our team: Carolyn, Cory, Stacey, Alysha, Rachel, Kathleen, Willow, Jeremiah, Nicole, Cristina, Katie, Amanda, Jennifer, and Niny. I hope I’m not missing anyone. All of them, volunteers. Some jump in and out of action, but everyone believes in the i-ACT mission–putting a face on the numbers.

I am proud to be a part of this group. Sorry for talking so much about us, but I want others to see that we’re not special at all. We just decided to that we would act, and we see obstacles as opportunities to be creative…and even have fun.

Peace, G

As cliche as it might sound, I tell our team, and I repeat it as often as I can and as often as I see needed, “mission first, mission first!”  We want to have our actions be directed by what will have a more immediate and positive and long-lasting impact on the people on whose behalf we are working for, the civilian population of Darfur.

Growing as an organization is not our mission.  On the contrary, it makes sense for us to stay light, flexible, and adaptable, so that we can act immediately based on what is happening or, sometimes even better, on what we see coming around the corner.  We take risks.  We allow ourselves to think outside of the box.  We many times go outside of our comfort zone.  We do make mistakes.

There are quite a few groups that exist today solely because of Darfur, including our little team.  For these advocacy or activists groups, I personally believe that it is our responsibility to be mission first, mission second, mission next, and mission always.  We owe it to the people that are right now sitting in the middle of the desert.  We owe it to ourselves and to our own children.

Paz,
G

We were up early in Guereda this morning, even though we had a little extra time to sleep in. We packed our bags, worked in the field office a bit and headed to the air strip. We didn’t have a security escort so we took big empty cargo trucks, probably because they won’t be targeted for banditry. It was a bumpy ride. Looking out of the back, with the thick plastic sheeting rolled up all the way, we said good bye to the desert.

Once in Abeche we wrapped up a few last minute details, and got on the computer. I have actually looked through my entire email box and cleaned up most of it. This is a task I usually can’t bring myself to do for weeks after I return from the camps. I should feel relieved or some sense of accomplishment or satisfaction for getting this task done, but I don’t.

Instead, I feel numb. I feel sad.  The emails and the websites and the list of things to do are so far from where I am mentally. I don’t quite know where I am.  I have spent almost three months of the last year and half in refugee camps here in Chad. With amazingly beautiful people. And the rest of the time, back in the States I get to travel around and share their stories, their reality and their hopes for the future. I get to dream up advocacy campaigns and push them into the public arena. I am doing exactly what I want to be doing. But I still feel so sad.

I want to curl up and cry. I want to look away, run away, be away. I thought all these months that I was a strong person, but now everything is catching up.

Adam said something that really struck me yesterday. When asked why he wanted the people of Darfur to learn about the world at his library, he intertwined his fingers and said, “We are all human beings.”

I think for sometime I have tried to bury myself below my passion and dedication to change the world. The people of Darfur have changed so much about me and taught me so much about myself. They have brought my own humanity to the surface. I guess in the end, we are simply all human.

We have so many photos, so much video, and so many thoughts to share with you all about this i-ACT.

As we begin our journey back to see you we will periodically post new stuff here. Please check back regularly, SIGN UP FOR OUR UPDATES (left hand column), follow our facebook group or iact on twitter.

For me, this i-ACT was a dream come true. In addition to posting same-day videos, photos, actions and blogs, we connected live with the world. We did one VIP live event to Washington DC, one marathon of live video to the world to honor refugees for World Refugee Day, one live connection from Camp Kounoungo to Price Waterhouse Cooper in Australia, and one live video interview with a women’s magazine in China. All with the voice of the refugees at the center.

Thank you to the entire i-ACT team both in the US and here in Chad who made this possible. Without our team, i-ACT would not have the impact, scoop, or possibilities for more. Working with UNHCR and getting to know the staff more personally was a treat. Thank you Annette, Greg, Marco, and staff in Goz Beida and Guereda.Finally, thank you to the refugees who have opened their hearts to us and to you. Allowed us to visit their homes and film their lives.  To hold the newborn babies and play with their children. The refugees in their strength dignity and humanity are my heroes and my fuel to keep going.

Click here for more entries and updates!

1. Email this short description (or write your own) to 10 friends with a link to today’s video: Darfur 101.
   Not sure what Darfur is? Check out Darfur 101, it will only take 5 minutes. If you have time, read a little on the site too. Knowledge is power; power to make a difference.
2. The i-ACT team heads to Camp Kounoungo today for the first time in over a year. Stay tuned for a few more days of i-ACT from the Chad-Darfur border: same-day videos, photos, journals and reunions with old friends as far back as i-ACT1!

Dear President Obama:

With your election, Darfur refugees had as much hope as I that you would work with “unstinting resolve” to bring peace and justice to Darfur and all of Sudan. Mothers and fathers have named their new born sons after you, and students have renamed their schools Obama. They still believe that if the United States becomes a leader in the movement to bring justice and peace, then the international community will follow. Will you stand with the people of Darfur?

Please finish the Sudan Policy Review, support the arrest warrant for al-Bashir, and work multilaterally to bring peace to all of Sudan.

Salaam,

Your Name

Extra Credit:

Read Speaker Pelosi’s World Refugee Day Statement.

Missed our live feed from Chad for World Refugee Day? View segments of the day here.

After an hour on a bumpy road, passing three dry river beds (wadis) and several herds of camels and cattle, the camp appears on the horizon. It looks almost exactly the same on the outskirts. Once we make our obligatory stop at camp security, we make our way down the small hill into alleys of mud walls and UNHCR tents. Many of the refugees still sleep in the tents first given to them, although they make mud walls to provide a sense of security and privacy.

The refugees of Camp Kounoungo are more reserved than those in Camp Djabal. Although they want their picture taken, and the women will call you over while they fix their beautiful scarves, the children do not follow you around.

We see Yacoub first at the Cental School. We speak for a while and he gives us an overview of the conditions. Now 19,000 refugees live in Camp Kounoungo; 4,000 more than last time we were here in January 2008. They have many more activities, and a market in the camp, even a restaurant. An organized soccer game is going on with lines mean, a referee and an announcer using a megaphone. The market is open two days a week. Today it bustles with colorful scarves of intricate design and men in white traditional dress. There are rations for exchange but also sun dried tomatoes, loofa, eggs, animals, and even watermelon. Yacoub describes a program similar to small loans that helped many begin their enterprises here in the camp.

We step away from the bustle of the soccer field and market and make our way towards one edge of the sprawling camp. A slight left at the tree and donkey, and we arrive at Adams. His hair is whiter, but his spirit is brighter. He smiles an welcomes us to his newly built home. A nice room where some of his children, wife and new born daughter, Marymouna, sit. We sit with Adam for a long time, share photos and articles from the community in Redding, CA. We laugh, and we cry. Adam’s eyes are visibly red. His library has been washed away by the rain. Each year the mud structures here in the camp need to be repaired because of the wind and rain. Soon the rains will come again, and wash mush of the camps structures away. Deserted homes and walls from previous seasons can be seen throughout the camp.

We leave Adam with a few toys and some drawings from US students, and promise to return tomorrow. We wander down the sand paths, over small washed out ditches in search of my very good friend, Fatne. Yacoub said she has asked about us several times in the last year.

Fatne’s smile exemplified pure gratitude and joy for our visit. We sat with her for about an hour. Listening more to her story and sharing laughter. She is 71 years old and has seen family members killed, more than 50 people she knew murdered. She has no men in her family to take care of her. Fatne says even tomorrow, if there was peace, she would return. Yet this small, frail-looking woman, is far from weak. She is strong, resilient, and loving. All through our talk, we hold hands and hug every once in a while.

Fatne reminds me of my own Grammie who is only a few years older living in Arizona. She too is a strong woman who leads our family much of the time. I would do anything in the world to protect her from the horrors of something like what is happening in Darfur. For Fatne, I cannot protect her, but I can work to bring more peace to her life. Over and over again, that is all she asked for.

I have read most, if not all, of the journals submitted by Darfur Fast for Life participants, and so many mention how our experience cannot come close to that of the displaced because we know when and where our next meal will come.  It is absolutely true.  They, on the other hand, run during the night and hide during the day.  Some are ambushed at water points, janjaweed knowing that their targets will be driven by thirst to where water might be found.

Through one day of fasting, I am experiencing a little headache–but no fear or uncertainty.  I have full bottles of water and snacks that I can eat anytime, if I wish.  I have never in my life had to wonder IF I’ll have a next meal or next drink of water.  One of our consistent problems back home is having to decide WHERE to go eat: should it be mexican; middle eastern; a turkey burger at Fatburger; fish tacos at Sharkeyz; the local Redondo Beach Cafe; GoodStuff’s healthy meals on the strand; huge plates at all-you-can-eat The Wok Mongolian BBQ; and so many more.  Now I’m really wanting to eat, but not tuna and nuts, our staple food in Chad.

It is now dark in Guereda, the little town we are in.  Thinking about the people that are just a few miles away living in refugee camp Kounoungou, I know that for them, during the escape, the darkness gave them some security.  They would restart their walk towards the west and the Chad border–hungry,  thirsty, afraid.  I wonder if the parents would lie to their children and tell them, “It’s OK, we will soon find food and water,” even though many never did and were left in the desert.  I think I would lie to my children, and probably to myself.

Peace,
Gabriel