My departure for Kenya (and whatever else I find)

I'm sitting in what is as close to home as I get:  A friends house in the woods of North Georgia a few yards away from the Bartram Trail.  In the late 1700's William Bartram set off to explore the southern colonies.  He documented his travels & is known as one of the earliest naturalists and historians in America. Growing up in this area I have hiked and explored most of the same trails, mountains, and forests they he wrote about.

Bartram is said to have fallen in love with travel and nature at an early age. Trips with his father, the Royal Botanist, opened his eyes. In his thirties, he left his home (what would be Philadelphia) and began his exploration of the south. He learned and wrote about the Cherokee, nature, and mans' relationship to our earth in a way that probably didn't agree with society at the time or his Quaker beliefs.

Much like Bartram I am taking off for an adventure and exploration of my own. I won't be exploring Appalachia on horseback, but I hope to find experiences as impressionable on me as nature was on him. This past fall I began to sell everything that I owned and prepare to pursue my passion: poverty.

A few years ago I was exposed to the images, faces, and facts of extreme poverty. Since then the burden of social injustice has pulled at my heart. I have read, studied, listened to lectures, followed documentaries, volunteered, taken short-term trips, and advocated around the issues of poverty. I am confident that extreme poverty is the greatest threat to domestic security & basic human rights around the world. That being said, the greatest thing that I can see myself doing now is joining the fight against poverty.

On Friday I fly out of Atlanta to begin my life in Africa. I will be living and volunteering in Nairobi, Kenya to support the work of The 1010 Project & the communities they partner with. This hasn't been an easy or quick decision, but I know that it is the right one. It is not just about social justice either. It is about me. It is about living a life of passion and purpose.  It's about chasing dreams, embracing adventure, and pushing past fear and doubt. It is about the things that so many of you have taught or instilled in me.

As I leave all of you an on my mind, & I ask that over the next few months you keep me in mind. There is a list of ways for you to support & encourage me HERE.

My Blog has moved:

Http://KeithBIves.com/

I'm on an Island

I just stepped into a very weird world... Getting off the ferry from Cape Cod to Martha's Vineyard I walked into the small village center & stopped at the first shop that promised a hot cup of coffee. Entering I was greeted by the customers, but the shopkeeper was no where to be seen. I quietly asked the lady chewing her sandwich if there was WiFi in the shop. She responded by yelling, "Katie (I think that was her name), you have internet here?" Suddenly a young & chic girl with a small stud pierced through her nose appeared. She welcomed me to her shop & reassured me that I could "borrow" the signal from the cafe across the street. I sat down & put my good-sized backpack down next to me & the table I had to share with the customer still chewing her sandwich. With me, the lady chewing her sandwich, & my pack the shop was full.

Katie recommended the meatloaf sandwich with her strong Massachusetts accent, & Donna (by now I was on a first name basis with my table-mate) nodded her head in agreement explaining that it wasn't at all like meatloaf. With two recommendations I ordered the meatloaf sandwich & sat down. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a sign that always haunts me when I travel, "Cash & Local Checks Only." Damn I thought, as I nervously thumbed through the $1's in my wallet. "I think I have enough" I thought to myself. I wonder how much sales tax is? Well, worst case scenario I will be stuck washing dishes for Katie... ...that didn't seem too bad.

Just before Donna finished her sandwich & left she commented on Haiti, the Red Cross text message fund-raising, & how she kept trying to text "HAITI" to donate but couldn't figure it out. (this is the third time I have had someone tell me this). As with the other two, I explained that HAITI should be in the body of the message, but the phone number was 90999. She left & a half dozen high-schoolers piled in. They started talking about their new bearings, trucks, & sick decks. I slowly realize that they are talking about skateboards. "Really?" I thought to myself? They bought sodas and left. I asked Katie if people really skateboarded on the island? She quickly explained that all the kids are into surfing, skateboarding, & snowboarding. I assumed all kids on Martha's Vineyard were into sailing around in khaki shorts & polos.

Katie dressed like she was in NYC, talked like she was from Boston, but made it clear to me that she was Californian. She proceeded to tell me about her full sleeves of tattoos (currently covered by a well fitted black top). Katie skated too. She explained that she was into snowboarding, but it was a real pain to go all the way to Vermont to get on a decent slope. Instead, she improvises & goofs off on the hill she lives on.
"What else do people do for fun around here?" I asked. "Mainly abuse drugs & alcohol." she retorted. "Oh... ...well where is a good place for a guy to go to abuse alcohol?" I replied. "Nowhere around here," she said. "This is a dry town!"
I was confused, but likely not the most confused person on the island.

Choose your family

Let me start by clarifying this: I love my family.  My mother is my hero & my sister is my best friend.

A new friend mentioned the idea of being able to choose your family... ...I was struck by the comment. As I left Denver, my home for the past 5+ years, I realized that I was leaving a lot of family.  If we are lucky our biological families love us unconditionally.  I have tested that with mine! It is truth.  Living in Denver, especially this past year, I have found people that choose to love me in that manner without a biological connection.  I have brothers from the Marine Corps, siblings from college, stand-in mom's from work, big sister's in Evergreen, & even a few father-like friends. This doesn't even include the "Family of Rotary!"

I arrived 'home' this week & found it empty, & I am wrestling with the concept of home. I have a small token in my pocket that reads, "There's No Place Like HOME" on one side & has a embossed image of the globe on the other.  I am from a small family & small towns.  Growing up everything seemed immense comparatively.  As I grow my family through meaningful and loving relationships the world begins to shrink.  The flip side of the token begins to inform my definition of home. Home is where there the people you trust live. Home is where you have loving and generous relationships. Home is wherever I want or need it to be at that stage of my life... ...reassuring for someone who struggles with a bit of wanderlust.

I tried using my ipod to catch a quick thought today... ...unfortunately its sideways :)


Heading Home? from Keith B. Ives on Vimeo.