Sing me a rainbow, steal me a dream

I don't know how many people I've talked to about the need for education in Africa. The general response I've gotten is one of genuine empathy. Every time I tell someone about the thousands of children walked for thousands of miles to escape their government's genocide, I get a good response. "That's terrible," they say. Usually followed by a sympathetic face.

I tell them about the resettlement of those children in the United States. I tell them about those same children that have grown up and want to go back to their country. I tell them that they have not seen their home in ten or more years. I tell them their drive, that they work full time jobs, attend school, earn their BA, want to get their Masters degree. I tell them that they want to go home to help their communities rebuild. I tell them that their hometown has never had a library, that their children cannot read. I tell them about these Lost Boys with hope to inspire people to think about how they can change the world.

I am met by the wet blanket of apathy that has covered this country for the last twenty years. I have had the channel changed on me. People will listen only for a short period of time. I am frustrated and I am exhausted.

I don't feel that I am asking for very much. I don't feel that I'm draining the people that I talk to when I ask. I am asking for so very little. Your time, your ears, your feet. I am asking you to watch this video. I am asking you to pledge your feet. I am asking you to help me. So take a gander at this and think about it:

Here's some info from our facebook site for the event:

walkSUDAN is a community-driven, volunteer-owned movement dedicated to promoting community development in Southern Sudan and helping the Lost Boys return home. We're organizing walks in Peoria, Chicago, Minneapolis, and Fargo. Pledge Your Feet and help us build a library in Panyijiar County, Southern Sudan. This war-torn region needs our help and, through our grass-roots campaign, we can make this region a better place to live!

All proceeds will go directly to Endless Eye and PACODES, two non-profits committed to community development in Panyijiar County. The funds will be used to build a library this fall and to finance a documentary film intended to raise awareness to the lacking infrastructure in Southern Sudan (and, in turn, help us raise funds to fix the problem).

It's easy to get involved...we're only asking that you raise $40 and pledge your feet on May 24th...come walk with us from Bradley University's quad to Liberty Park on the Peoria Riverfront. This symbolic walk will represent the tragic trek the Lost Boys made, as children, to escape the violence in Southern Sudan during the Civil War. 27,000 children left their homes and families to survive...after a thousand mile journey, only 13,000 children made it to refugee camps in Kenya. We're working to help create a community and help the Lost Boys go home!

They Walked to Survive...We Walk for Them!

We are hosting walkSUDAN events in PEORIA CHICAGO MINNEAPOLIS and FARGO. If you live in the Midwest, you can make it to one of them. If you don't live in the Midwest and want to help, think about setting up a walk in you city and contact me: amanda@endlesseye.org

This is your chance to help a community in need. It is your chance to change the world.

It starts with a library
that will bring hope to a community
and a culture
ready
for
change

Are you ready for change?

Is there anybody going to listen to my story?

I kind of lost all faith in humanity yesterday. I've spent all day attempting to get it back. I came to the realization that it is close to impossible to get any number of people to give a shit about anyone other than themselves.

Heres a decent example:

The horrific amount of violence and tragedy that occurs daily in Africa that no one cares about because there isn't oil/money/profit margin in it and the idea that 'lets just let them kill themselves off' because no one gives a shit about impoverished black people in the middle of no where (or at least very very far from the comfort of their own homes).

People can change the channel to American Idol and American's next Top Model. Our media saturated culture is both a negative and positive element in this day and age. On the downside, we can choose to not pay attention to the problems of the world. The media itself also has this choice. Where do priorities lie? Personal priorities may reside in making enough income to feed ones 'family, buying ones' family a new SUV or flat screen television, or paying off ones' family's mortgage. Media priorities could lie in avoidance of discomfort for their audience. It seems that our country's media, and government for that matter, is far more concerned with BASEBALL having it's day of reckoning in CONGRESS. I found the following in the Washington Post's online archive:

"During the course of an all-day, nationally televised hearing, the House Government Reform Committee fulfilled its goal of examining baseball's oft-criticized drug-testing program and its impact on steroid use among teenagers."
By Dave Sheinin
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, March 18, 2005; Page A01

ITS BASEBALL! Come on!

Come one come all to bare witness to the glory of our justice system turning their focus to BASEBALL! Nothing better to do? Trying to deflect the focus from other worldly events to the crisis of athletes weeping on the stand? Shouldn't the murder of hundreds of thousands of people take precedence over the news? Brutal acts of raid and rape? No? Not interested?

For those of you who don't know what's going on across the oceans, it's more than likely not your fault. No one is presenting it to you, so I'll do my civil duty as a citizen of the world and bestow some long overdue schooling, enjoy:

The War in Darfur is a military conflict in the Darfur region of western Sudan. Unlike the Second Sudanese Civil War, the current lines of conflict are seen to be ethnic and tribal, rather than religious. One side of the armed conflict is composed mainly of the Sudanese military and the Janjawid, a militia group recruited mostly from the Arab Baggara tribes of the northern Rizeigat, camel-herding nomads. The other side comprises a variety of rebel groups, notably the Sudan Liberation Movement and the Justice and Equality Movement, recruited primarily from the land-tilling non-Arab Fur, Zaghawa, and Massaleit ethnic groups. The Sudanese government, while publicly denying that it supports the Janjaweed, has provided money and assistance to the militia and has participated in joint attacks targeting the tribes from which the rebels draw support. The conflict began in February of 2003.

The combination of decades of drought, desertification, and overpopulation are among the causes of the Darfur conflict, because the Baggara nomads searching for water have to take their livestock further south, to land mainly occupied by non-Arab farming communities.

There are many casualty estimates, most concurring on a range within the hundreds of thousands. The United Nations (UN) estimates that the conflict has left as many as 200,000 dead from violence and disease. Most non-governmental organizations use 200,000 to more than 400,000; the latter is a figure from the Coalition for International Justice that has since been cited by the UN. Sudan's government claims that over 9,000 people have been killed, although this figure is seen as a gross underestimate. As many as 2.5 million are thought to have been displaced as of October 2006.

The Sudanese government has suppressed information by jailing and killing witnesses since 2004 and tampered with evidence such as mass graves to eliminate their forensic values. In addition, by obstructing and arresting journalists, the Sudanese government has been able to obscure much of what has gone on. The United States government has described it as genocide, although the UN has declined to do so. In March 2007 the UN mission accused Sudan's government of orchestrating and taking part in "gross violations" in Darfur and called for urgent international action to protect civilians there.

After fighting worsened in July and August, on August 31, 2006, the United Nations Security Council approved Resolution 1706 which called for a new 17,300-troop UN peacekeeping force to supplant or supplement a poorly funded, ill-equipped 7,000-troop African Union Mission in Sudan peacekeeping force. Sudan strongly objected to the resolution and said that it would see the UN forces in the region as foreign invaders. The next day, the Sudanese military launched a major offensive in the region.
[This article is taken from Wikipedia. While it is not always a reliable source for accurate information, I have checked the stats with other sites and it is very consistent.]

Here's the point. People don't care. Its much easier to not give a shit about other's. It takes effort to care about issues. I don't see it as that much of an effort. I find it mind numbingly frustrating that people don't take that small step towards even inquiring beyond their own walls.

I think I came face to face with every negative thing about the world all at once. Here's a good one: The fact that humans can never be of one race because their governments are all too petty and self involved to see anything beyond themselves. I found myself questioning whether I went into the right field at all. Should I have been a lawyer, a doctor, an international aid representative? Can I make a difference at all? Is every action I take a futile effort? I can't allow myself to believe that and still be able to pry myself out of bed in the morning. Life would become far to difficult. So I go on, everyday, attempting to make a difference in the slightest of ways. I talk to people. I tell them things, much as I have told you when I have today. I hope you talk about it to others. I hope you dig deeper. I hope.

hey little bird, fly away home

house is on fire, children are alone.

Getting back stateside was a trip in itself. The culture shock was more than I could handle, being so jet lagged and on a completely wrong time schedule... So here are my issues with the United States, as follows:

America thinks that 'obesity' is a problem. People gorging themselves, living in excess, is a social problem affecting the masses. Excess in itself is personal problem. How do you explain spas and nail salons to villagers in rural Pakistan? "So you pay how much for someone to put mud on you? I can put mud on you, we have lots of mud here!" The unnessicarity of this country amazes me. I got back to my apartment and saw all the things that I don't need. I'm donating half my clothes to charity, all the books I don't read are going to a library being built in Sudan. How little can you survive on and still be happy? It is very little. I met people in Pakistan that live in a one room house, have seven children, and do not harbor the problems I see on a day to day basis here.

The perspective gained and the faith in the west lost... I'm having trouble expressing this feeling. I am a foreigner in my own country. I feel ill at ease walking down the streets in my neighborhood. I decided when I was gone that when I come back, I should never be bored. Being a bored American is feeding into a stereotype that I refuse to be a part of. There is no reason why I should waste my time in laziness and idle whilst I am able to be alive. I've been waking up at six AM ready to start my day. I've been sewing and making box pleats in silk ribbon at 7 AM.

Coming back from this trip, I feel like a better person. Focused and more productive. This trip really affected me iin a positive way. Thank god something lit a fire under my as to do something with my endless numbered days.

Lahore, Pakistan

i will have words later.

sunrise soon forgotten

I leave for my adventure in 7 days. When I found out I was going on this trip three months ago, I couldn't believe I was leaving in three months. Now it's a week before I meet that gate at the airport, and I am filled with a sense of anticipation, the likes of which I've never felt. The nearing prospect of visiting places I've never seen makes me feel like I'm floating. I have seven days to get my shit together.

We've started production in Chicago. Adam (my partner in crime) and I were doing time lapse on the streets. We strapped the camera to the hood of my Saturn, immediately turning it into the "Movie Mobile," and cruised down Lake Shore Drive a few times. We hung out on a bridge over the highway for a couple hours watching the traffic, shivering, and thinking up the best ways for Adam to pick up the jogging chicks. After sunset, we threw the camera onto the hood of the car again and rolled down Michigan avenue through the loop and into Lower Wacker- the basement of the city.

Later this week we'll be sitting in Millennium Park filming the sunrise. We scouted it earlier this week, with only a little difficulty. I guess the case with Millennium Park is that it "opens" at 6am. But sunrise is half over by then, so we intended to be there at 5am, to catch the whole show. Of course when we get there at 5, there's a drunken couple being chased by a fat, angry security guard who in turn saw Adam, Thom, and I setting up my camera. To our chagrin, she hassled us out of the park with a hell of a lot of sass to come out of one woman's mouth. She sat and read her paper, doing nothing, and we stood with our toes at the edge of the park being sarcastic and thinking up names for her- we settled on Clarice.

A cloth encased golf cart rolled up to remove the sign that discouraged people from entering the park at night. We asked if that meant the park was open. He said to give it a few minutes. We liked him. We called him Bernard. While we edged our way into the park, we were hoping that Bernard could wrestle out the stick shoved up Clarice's ass, and tried our luck at 5.45am. Bernard was successful and so were we. We sat and watched the sun rise until 7.30. Other photographers were coming out on that Sunday morning, but we had our turf staked. We made snide remarks on their lack of commitment and enjoyed the view.

road to nowhere

I realize that my posts of late have been somewhat on the dark side of professed thought. With winter waning, I can feel my weather induced pessimism lifting. The melting snow has surfaced a lost roll of film from some previous adventures.

Thom, Josh, and I took a two hour drive down state to explore an abandoned air force base that was rumored to exist. I was expecting barracks, perhaps some hangers or machine rooms. What we found was a place that seemed walked away from. It was as if they shut the doors on a Friday and skipped town in a permanent way. There were more buildings than we could hope to get through unnoticed in one day. We chose the two that would be most intriguing.

The first was a theatre. The place was never gutted and there was still seating for over 300, easy. Over time the roof had given way to rain and storm. The structure was still holding, the materials were saturated and floor bound. The seats were faded and thread bare. The aisles were carpeted with piles of ceiling tiles that gave underfoot like milk soaked graham crackers. The scent of rust and rain poured in from outside. The building was dissolving in the wet season of mid November in Illinois. I walked around the remains of the stage and climbed up to where the pin rail was operated. The whole operation was rusted through. Nature was attempting to absorb the theatre back into its domain. All that remained in the booth were the platforms where the projectors once stood. The light streamed in through the shutters hanging off the windows. The roof opened up and let in the sun and the trees. Being inside the theatre was more like being outside.

We made our way out across the quad to the dorms. At this point, unbeknownst to us, we were being tailed by the local police. The dorms were a strange place. In four floors, there were identical hallways. Off the hallways branched identically shaped rooms. Each of the rooms was empty, save for an occasional broken chair. But each room had a telephone on the floor that was disconnected from the wall. Each phone was in a different spot in every room. The ceiling tiles had come free from above and fallen like soggy tetris pieces on the floor. They had thought painting over tile was a good idea at the time, and now the tile was shaking off the paint like bad case of dandruff. Thom and Josh had gone up to the third floor, I was still exploring the second. After taking a few pictures of the rooms I walked passed the stairwell that led upstairs. I saw a face I'd never seen before, he was in a black uniform and he was carrying a gun. Two thoughts ran through my head: 1. If I run, they'll chase me, 2. That would be interesting, but serve no practical purpose as I have no drugs or weapons on me. So I went upstairs where they had already nabbed Thom and Josh. These small town cops couldn't wrap their heads around the idea that we drove two hours from Chicago to visit this place. "Aren't there better things to do in the city?" "You're probably going to get yourselves sick from all the mold and asbestos in this place." But come on guys, look at the pictures I got. Walking where you're not supposed to provides a rare thrill that most people just don't understand.

Check out more photos from that trip on my webpage in the urban gallery

misery is the river of the world

When the weather gets warm, people come out to kill you.

I am having a harder and harder time trying to find anything good or beautiful about this city. One of my employees was walking home from the Logan Square blue line station last week and was assaulted by two "people" with baseball bats. Assaulted would be too light for this situation. He was beaten within an inch of his life. And for what purpose? Because he's white? Because he looks like he has money? Because he's a guy? Because he wears glasses? If robbery was the motive, you can punch someone and they would give you their wallet if they knew you meant business. It's not exactly the most human thing to do to beat someone unconscious and keep going with it. This kid is now in a medically induced comma in an Intensive Care Unit in critical condition. For what? The twenty bucks that may or may not have been in his wallet? What kind of a person does that to someone else?

Other recent Logan Square crimes include a man being shot in the California blue line station, a woman being raped in the Logan Square station, and a person being held up by two 16 year old girls with guns on the street. 16 year old girls with GUNS? Ridiculous doesn't begin to describe the situation accurately.

I went to visit my friend in the hospital. He's out cold and probably will be for some time. The ICU is a very cold and unfriendly place. I came to his room and he looked as though he had gotten hit by a train. It was strange to see him hooked up to machines to help him breathe, machines to keep the circulation in his limbs, machines to keep him hydrated, and completely alone.

I tried to bring him flowers but they wouldn't let me bring them in the ICU. I had to bike home with them:


I need to get out of this city.