Why so quiet?

Something strange happened at the end of 2022. The whole year, in fact the many years previous to that as well, I had been excitedly motivated to take photos, and make videos, and write about things.

Then, almost like the flip of a switch that motivation stopped.

My camera seemed like a burden. The thought of making a video felt laborious instead of engaging and exciting. Almost immediately my Instagram feed ground to a halt.

I couldn’t understand this, nor did I feel much motivation to push through it and just keep trying. I think I just needed a break.

In some ways it felt to me like I had taken a picture of everything I could within my day to day world: The airplane. The airplane with people. The villages we fly to. The airstrips. And so on. My photographer eye was seeing less and less ‘new’ stuff, and was feeling strained with trying to make the normal stuff look different.

Likewise with the videos I had enjoyed making. This was a pandemic project that I really enjoyed and had a lot of fun with. But it’s a lot of work, and once I had filmed footage from the majority of our airstrips, once again I wasn’t seeing much that would warrant more content.

I think there may be a tendency in our modern world to create for the sake of it. Data is unlimited. Space to publish is unlimited. And the tendency for creative arts is to throw everything at the wall and see what sticks.

I think I prefer a more limited, minimalist approach. Things should be created because they are bursting from your brain and need to be in the world. Some people are gifted with having a lot bursting from their creative minds. Others are slower, but no less inspiring.

In a similar way to all of this, I need to be honest and tell you that the last few times I’ve seen a reminder to send out a newsletter, I’ve snoozed it. Not for lack of appreciation for people wanting to know how and what we are doing, or for the support we get, but literally just because I haven’t known what to write.

The thing is, in the first few years working in the field we are in, there is a lot of new and interesting stuff to share. The first flight I did, or the time I had crazy weather and a medical patient on board. Or what life in rural Lesotho is like with a toddler (thinking back to 2016). There’s a lot to share. Most of it funny, interesting or thought provoking. But after 7 years, it feels harder to find those kinds of things to share. Not because they have stopped happening, but because we can’t think of another way to ‘frame this picture and make it still interesting to look at,’ to continue my photo analogy.

I also know that people don’t expect to be wow’d every time we send out a newsletter. Sometimes maybe you just wanna know that everything is good and that we are doing well. I know that. But I pressure myself into wanting it to be worthy of a national newspaper column.

Think of this post, then, as a picture of us standing on a mountain in Lesotho, with an airplane behind. You have seen it before. Nothing looks too different. Except that the photo is recent, Jane is taller, and we look a little older and wiser.

The good and the bad

Recently I was walking around one of our remote airstrips, waiting for a passenger to complete their work in the village. As I walked around, I met a group of young shepherds, the youngest maybe 4, the oldest probably about 7 or 8. It was still winter, and the wind was cutting through my multiple layers of jackets. These boys were out here in the mountains, one thin T shirt under their threadbare blankets. I noticed the youngest had 2 dead field mice clutched in his hand. The 2 tiny rodents each had a spot of blood by their head, evidence of a shepherd’s stick blow that killed them probably minutes ago. I asked the boys why they had them. The older boy excitedly smiled and motioned cooking and eating. A nice treat for them to share later in the day.

I filmed this during my time with those shepherds.

I walked away from this interaction, as I do whenever I interact with the tough, resilient rural communities we visit, thinking about how hard some people have it, and how much I take for granted.

While this realization is true, it can also become an obstacle in our own introspection. When we know there are others with so much less, why should we give our own struggles and challenges any thought?

If we just compare ourselves to others, we will never give ourselves permission to be honest and open about our own situations. And so we must reach the point of seeing others, realizing their struggles, but not comparing them to our own. We do need to spend time being honest about our own situations.

It’s with that in mind that I share: this year has not been easy.

We returned from furlough pretty much at the end of 2021, and started back at work here in the new year. Furlough itself was tough, trying to do school for Jane while traveling soooo much. When we got back, we had hopes and plans all set out for all the things we wanted to achieve in the year ahead. Great ideas to improve PCC, and grow and learn in my work at MAF. After the first months of the year passed, we still hadn’t found our groove. Not quite getting done much of what we hoped to. Just surviving day to day, not making forward progress.

As much of the world by early 2022 moved away from Covid protocols, Lesotho clung to them all, until recently. The border still required testing and certificates up until about 2 months ago. The evidence of a post-covid world was all around us. Reports of crime far more common, people without jobs, more people asking for money or help whenever we left the house.

In June we went away for a weekend and had a Mosotho friend of ours stay at our house. At 9pm on the Saturday we received a call that 7 armed men had broken into our house, held up the security guard at gunpoint, assaulted our friend and searched the house for money. They found none and left without stealing anything. But the damage had been done, especially to our traumatized friend, security guard, and our feeling of safety.

We returned home on the Sunday, and decided to stay with friends for a few weeks while our house had some security updates done. Stronger bars, solid doors and an upgrade to the alarm system.

Since that incident, we have heard of similar events almost every week around the city. Break-ins, carjackings, mall and gas station robberies seem like a common occurrence in the last few months. Where smaller, petty crimes, were a normal part of life in the past, the things that are happening now show a new level of planning and violence. In a word, it is unsettling.

The effect these events have on our general feeling of safety and security is significant. We feel like we have just come out of 2 years of Covid restrictions straight into necessary security restrictions.

These things on their own seem manageable. But it’s amazing what an added level of anxiety can do to your day. You just don’t get done what you need to get done, never mind what you want to. It’s not that there are more things to get done, it’s that everything you were trying to get done has some weight added to it, and that takes a toll.

I don’t mean to paint a bleak picture. It’s not all bad, but I do think it’s important to share some honest news, as well as some wonderful, positive things that have happened this year.

Jane as the “Pollenator”

Jane recently started the new school year, and is now at the American International School of Lesotho. She had been at a smaller school, which suited her great for her younger years. But now that she is older, this school is so wonderful. She loves her teacher and classmates, and gets to do fun things like after school Lego club! On spring day at school her class was encouraged to dress up as their own made up spring themed superhero. Jane wanted to be ‘The Pollenator’ (hopefully part of the next phase of the MCU) and came up with an awesome moth-themed suit, with a little graphic design help from her dad for the shirt!

Tlhanyaku airstrip where I was doing a checkout for Chad recently

On the MAF side, I have been loving my role as the chief pilot. Our new pilot, Chad, is doing great, and I enjoy supervising him and making sure he continues to learn safe, efficient ways to operate in Lesotho. I have also slowly been doing more and more work on our operations side, trying to assist with the workload that our Country Director carries. The less he can do with regards to day to day flight operations, the more he can focus on leading the team here and managing all that goes with keeping the program going.

Emily and her PCC management team getting a quick fun flight with me.

PCC continues to operate well under the management of our local staff. Emily as the director continues to hand off decisions and day to day work to them, and they continue to rise to the occasion. Our hope with the Centre is to continue learning new and better ways to care for vulnerable children, and to work at implementing them. It’s a tough task, and one where you learn something new, and then feel like you know less, because it’s so complex and dynamic. Emily has been learning about trauma and the effects it has on development, and that is an overwhelming topic and task, but one she rises to boldly.

The shepherds and their mouse snack have 2 very contrasting realities. On the one hand they have a hard, cold, hungry existence. On the other hand, they live free, in the unspoiled mountains, caring for animals and living a simple and beautiful life.

We have the same contrast. Things are not easy, but we love what we are able to do, we love the people we work with, and the beauty that surrounds us daily. We do our best to hold both of those things together, giving both the time and energy they deserve.