Day Tweny-six; Wichita, Kansas

Well, we finally left Oklahoma and crossed the border into Kansas, and I can definitely tell we are back in the mid-west. The scorching southern heat has pretty much disappeared, I'm noticing more soybean fields and less armadillo road-kill, and I can finally have a conversation with the locals without saying "what?" every other sentence.

***

Today we're staying in a trailer park in southern Wichita that is conveniently situated in between a busy freeway and some railroad tracks. It's home to lots of rusting trailers nestled beneath giant oak trees, and, with the exception of the freight trains that pass by every 20 minutes, it's a pretty quiet place.

We aren't scheduled to do another YMCA session for a couple days so I've been using this down time to get caught up on work, as well as continue to ponder more deep thoughts about my life.

I'm aware that I've done my fair share of whining over the past few weeks about life in the RV, but I'm happy to report that I think I've turned a corner. I feel like I am finally getting the hang of things, like doing domestic chores in impossibly small spaces. I'm also not nearly as claustrophobic as I once was. Good to know in case I am ever incarcerated.

Below are a few interesting observations I thought I'd share on RV living:

-RV kitchens are so tiny, I've discovered that I can bake a meatloaf, boil pasta, stir a sauce, wash dishes, dry dishes, put away silverware and clean the sink all while never moving my feet.

-With a single paper towel and a squirt of Windex I can wash the entire kitchen floor.

-Most RV/trailer parks have coin operated washers and dryers near the main office for guests to use...and some of these RV parks have a pool. I've discovered that hanging out by the pool in between cycles is a great way to catch a few rays, and read/send emails from my phone while the clothes get clean. I've also discovered that if I bring a margarita to the pool with me at the same time, all this work just becomes much more fun.

-I've discovered that using duct tape to secure dishes in the cupboards is a handy way to keep them from rattling while driving.

-I've discovered that if I string a clothesline across the bathrooom, I can air-dry all my lingerie and have the bathroom to myself for as long as I want. (It makes Gunnar too uncomfortable to go in there.)

Talk about personal growth. I may be on my way to becoming an RV domestic goddess. Who knows.

***

July 24, 2009

Now that the weather has cooled off, Gunnar didn't leave the RV until nearly 7:00am this morning. As usual, I stayed behind to start working until I got the call to come out and give him a rest. It was a grey and overcast morning, and the smell of rain was in the air. A good soaking would be a welcome relief from the insufferable heat and dryness of Oklahoma...unless, of course, you are Gunnar out on the roads without an umbrella in his CamelBak.

Sure enough, by 9:00am the raindrops started to fall and the call came in to go pick Gunnar up. I quickly sprang into action, unhooked the RV and in record-time I was rolling out of the park and manuevering my way through the mid-morning Wichita traffic. (It's been brought to my attention that I had been getting slower and slower each day I made my pick-ups, so I'm working hard at tightening up my time performance. Bear with me, Gunnar.)

In addition to getting better at living in an RV, I should also mention that I am getting much better at driving an RV, as well. Piloting this beast used to make me incredibly nervous, even on an empty road! However, today, while cruising west down Pawnee Road on my way to get Gunnar, I spotted a donut shop up ahead. In one beautifully choreographed move I locked up the brakes, hung a wide left turn into the parking lot, swung in for a quick Bismark and was back on the road in record time. Nice!

Within 20 minutes, I met up with Gunnar waiting at a gas station. He came inside and took a little break while we waited for the weather to clear a bit, and then he went back out and headed off towards the next camp ground.

***

Another story from the
"Oklahomans Are So Friendly" file:

When I left Minnestoa, I promised my daughters Daisy and Coco that I would send them a present from every state I traveled through during the 10-week trip. This has proved to be a very effective way to help them focus less on my absense and more on what suprise is on its way. Every night when I talk to them the conversation always begins with "did you send our present today?"

So I took the cowboy hats that I bought at the Territory western wear store in Stillwater (as well as a few scenic Oklahoma postcards) over to a nearby FedEx to mail to the girls. As I was decorating the two big boxes with their names, Terrence, the FedEx guy waiting on me, liked the idea of helping my kids learn more about each state so he created some cute cartoons of Oklahoma buffalo to throw in the box as well.

Now that I think of it, I've never actually seen any buffalo in Oklahoma, but if Terrence says so, they must be around here somewhere.

The report from home a few days later was that the girls LOVE their new hats...as well as their buffalo cartoons from Terrence!

Have I mentioned that Oklahoma people are really friendly? I will miss that place.


July 22, 2009

By early afternoon, Gunnar had made it to Ponca City, Oklahoma where we were scheduled to do an afternoon session with about 100 kids at the Ponca City YMCA. In preparation, he took an hour-long nap in the RV so by the 3:45pm showtime he had all 106 kids (a new record!) in the palm of his hand.

The guy is amazing!


Stay tuned....

Love, Dina

Day Twenty-two; Tonkawa, Oklahoma

Happy anniversary! Today marks exactly three weeks since I left home on this 10-week, cross country fundraising adventure with Gunnar...and I must say it's been a rather thought-provoking anniversary so far.

Right now it is 7:30am. Gunnar is out walking towards the Ponca City YMCA for our afternoon session while I am here waiting at a slightly scary trailer park on the edge of the interstate... celebrating this milestone alone with my pot of coffee. Out my left window, a flashing neon sign at a truckstop is announcing that unleaded is $2.269, diesel is $2.369, and the temperature is only 64 degrees. Out my right window, my "next door neighbor" is drinking a can of beer in his underwear.

For the past hour, what the hell am I doing here? has been the main question running through my mind...as well as why the hell doesn't that guy put more clothes on? It's only 64 degrees, dude. Brrr.

While pondering these deep questions over my coffee, I reflected back to the last time I had a what the hell am I doing here? moment. It was just about one year ago and I was in Iraq being detained in a police checkpoint outside of Kirkuk--getting yelled at in Arabic by four police officers with very big guns. And even bigger mustaches.

Yep, that was an interesting afternoon.

Thankfully, it turned out that I wasn't really in trouble, and that they just wanted to know what the hell I was doing there as well. Apparently, not too many Minnesota women travel around Iraq without military escorts these days. Go figure.

Anyway, I suppose now would be a good time to fill in some of the details of the story?

Soooooo, it was the summer of 2008, and having already adopted War Kids Relief as an in-house CCC program, I had been trying, unsuccessfully, to get something off the ground for quite some time. I had discovered that without a strong partnering organization in Iraq, it was too difficult to reach the children there, and there would never be any real sustainability to our program either.

Not being someone who gives up easily, I decided I would just go to Iraq myself, do some investigating on the ground, find someone I could work with, and not come home until we had some sort of a program in place. So, together with two colleagues, I headed off to Iraq last August.

Despite being stopped at many more checkpoints along the Iraqi highways, we visited several children's centers, government agencies, and local charities until I found a partnering organization that we could work with (which just happens to be Bustan, the Iraqi nonprofit we did our pilot program with last winter, and who we will build the youth rehabilitation center with after we raise money from Gunnar's walk).

While in Iraq, we also had a chance to visit an IDP camp in a region called Suliemanya. IDP stands for internally displaced persons...who are basically refugees that haven't crossed an international border. This was one of many camps providing shelter to the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis who have fled the violence in their cities. In all my traveling adventures, I have been to many Third World villages, orphanages and slums (even spent a night in a Mongolian prison, but that's another story...) but I had never experienced anything quite like an IDP/refugee camp before.

Visually, it resembled images I had seen in the news; hundreds of makeshift tents stamped with logos of the international relief organizations that set them up (now patched together with old plastic bags and metal scraps), huge portable water containers also brought in by the relief organizations, as well as garbage, debris and despair as far as the eye could see.

Emotionally, however, IDP camp life was something that I wasn't at all prepared for.

After receiving clearance as an American NGO to enter the camp, we first met with several families living there to talk with them and hear their stories. Most were from areas of Baghdad that were overrun by insurgent groups and the sectarian fighting that had torn apart their neighborhoods. One family told us they had owned a grocery store in Baghdad. They weren't rich, but had a good life until their store was reduced to rubble, forcing them out of business. They tried to stay in their home as long as they could despite the daily bombings, kidnappings and death threats, but ultimately, the fear was too great. They packed up whatever they could fit in the family car and headed north.

I cannot even imagine.

Some families had been in the camp for weeks. Some months. Some years. None seemed to have any idea how long they would remain there. None seemed to have any idea about where they would go next. And all of them seemed completely overwhelmed with despair.

Whenever I travel for Children's Culture Connection (my nonprofit that is also WKR's parent organization), I always bring plenty of art supplies to do projects with the kids I encounter. It not only provides a fun respite for them, but it's also an invaluable opportunity for them to open up and express themselves in a medium that they feel comfortable in.

After our meeting with the families, we gathered up about 35 kids from the camp into a large tent to do an art activity together. The kids bunched into groups on the floor, and each got a piece of paper, colored markers and watercolors to work with. We just asked them to paint the stories of their lives, and for the next hour they were busy creating, drawing and laughing, and just enjoying the chance to be free for a while.

When they finished, we took pictures of them holding their masterpieces, and then asked each child to share their story. Some had painted the friends and houses they missed back in Baghdad. Some painted pictures of tanks, guns, helicopters and soldiers. One little boy painted a boat, saying he wanted to sail away to somewhere peaceful.

After the projects were completed we had all the kids line up so we could pass out the small toys that we brought for them. However, as the toys were being passed out, things quickly fell apart. The kids just went wild...and not in a good way. Bigger kids stole toys from littler kids, knocking some to the ground. Other kids came crying to me saying they didn't get anything...all the while hiding the toys they did have behind their backs as though I wouldn't notice. It just became total chaos.

I was trying desperately to remain calm and restore order, but before I knew it I was bawling them out, taking toys away, and flipping out like one of those tired parents at the grocery store whose whining kids had just pushed them so far over the edge they would make a scene in front of a store full of strangers.

Another what the hell am I doing here? moment, for sure.

Finally, we got the situation under control and the kids stomped out of the tent, but I couldn't stop wondering how they got like this. One minute they were playful, innocent and adorable, and then suddenly they became downright feral. Was it the stress of the camp that was making them crack like this?

After we caught our breath, the mother of the family we had met earlier came and invited us to their tent for lunch. At first we felt we should politely decline, feeling too guilty to accept a meal from a family who is struggling so desperately, but I reminded myself of people's need to give. No matter what circumstances we may be in, there is a powerful feeling that comes with giving. It is a feeling that transcends our own discomfort, and helps add purpose and meaning to our lives. This woman needed to give something to us to express her gratitude for caring about them. Our job was not only to allow her the opportunity to host us in her home, but to be the most gracious guests she ever met.

After following her back to her tent, we sat on a mat under a canopy outside and chatted with the family while she disappeared inside. Soon, she came out carrying tea served in beautiful cut crystal glasses on a silver service platter, one of the few precious items that she took from their home when they fled.

So here is this family living in absolute squalor in the midst of a war...with no money, no jobs, no future. Nothing. Yet they somehow manage to maintain their dignity as they entertained guests in their "home?" This just blew my mind.

As we ate grilled sheep kebabs and flatbread, we learned more about the family's plight and the fear and uncertainty they live with on a constant basis. When I truly understood how scared, depressed, and confused they were, with barely enough hope to get through a day, it didn't take long to connect the dots as to the disturbing behavior of the children. As the mother of two of my own, I am well aware of how children respond to the energy of their environment...and, especially the energy of their parents. Children look to grownups to feel a sense of security in their world, so how could these kids possibly feel secure when the adults are all living in total fear.

At that moment, my what the hell am I doing here feeling was gone, and I knew exactly what I was doing there. My mission was to find a way for War Kids Relief to reach these children affected by war, to inspire them, to give them hope, and to help them imagine new possibilities for their lives. Having read many reports and books on how vulnerable the disengaged children in war-torn countries were, I already knew what easy prey they were to those eager to lure them into future violence.

Now I had actually witnessed this vulnerability first hand, and it was terrifying. If those kids didn't get turned around, as well as the other children out there suffering from the effects of this war, the future of this whole region will be grave, as well as the future of our world...no matter when the war is declared "over."

***

So this three-week anniversary is an important one for me, because I know exactly why I am here in this trailer park with my beer-guzzling neighbor. I know exactly why I am climbing the walls of this claustrophobic RV, and why I asked my family to bear with me during my 10-week absence.

Some days, Gunnar and I bounce around on a near-hourly basis...from defeated to motivated...challenged, inspired and feisty to exhausted and confused (honestly, it's like having permanent PMS), but we somehow manage to remind ourselves that this is a learning process every step of the way. We aren't just a nonprofit doing fundraising, we are creating a movement, inspiring America to help us as well. Gunnar is teaching as well as walking...and establishing his reputation as our heroic leader, as well as asking for money. It's a complex process we are undergoing (which is why I dig it) and we constantly evaluate and re-evaluate what is and isn't working. We try to stay flexible and adapt without compromising our goals and integrity. And if all this is what it takes to fund our programs so we can start reaching these vulnerable kids to turn their lives around, then that's exactly what I'm willing to do.


Happily.

Stay tuned...




Love, Dina
Will you help us help the kids?

Day Eighteen; Stillwater, Oklahoma

Well thank goodness the summer heat wave has finally broken...at least for the time being. Temps have dropped into the low 90s here in Oklahoma and I might actually venture outside the RV for a little fresh air. Who knows.

***

By mid-morning, I unhooked from our campsite in Guthrie, OK and went out in search of Gunnar as he was making his way down Highway 33 towards our next stop: Stillwater, Oklahoma. It was close to 11:00am when I picked him up on the side of the road, and we drove the rest of the way to Stillwater in the RV. Gunnar was excited because a guy driving down the highway recognized him from last night's Oklahoma City Channel 9 news broadcast about ASM4P. http://www.news9.com/Global/category.asp?C=116601&clipId=3965194&autostart=true
He stopped his truck and ran across the hiway just to shake his Gunnar's hand and congratulate him. I agree, that's pretty cool!!

By 11:30am we rolled into Stillwater, a very quaint town with lots of historic buildings. They say it's one of the first towns settled in Oklahoma. We parked the RV in a shaded residential area and walked a few blocks to the center of town looking for a place for lunch. We stopped for cheeseburgers at Louie's pub, and afterwards, swung into a western store across the street called The Territory.

Just FYI- if you ever wanted to dress like a cowboy, The Territory is the place to come. Not only do they have western shirts, belts, buckles and boots as far as they eye can see, but they have all the area rodeo schedules posted as well...so once you are all dressed up like a cowboy, you'll have somewhere to go! The store decor was fascinating and I wished I had brought my camera with me to take a picture of all the colorful boots lining the walls.

Oh well. I'll get over it, I thought.

We spent a few more minutes browsing around, and after buying matching cowboy hats for my girls, Gunnar and I headed back to the RV. While walking back to the RV, however, I realized I wasn't going to get over it. Nope, not at all. I couldn't stop thinking about that picture I wanted to take. I really wished I had brought my camera. After another block, I was thinking about it even more, and by the time we made it back to the RV I was in full-fledged obsessing mode.

When am I ever going to be in Stillwater, OK again? When will I ever be back to The Territory again? This may be my only chance in my whole life to get this picture. I simply HAD to go back with my camera, and that's all there was to it. (Of course, I was well aware of how irrational I was becoming, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. This adventure seems to bring out the crazy in me some days.)

When we reached the RV I non-chalantly said to Gunnar, "that store was so cool, it sure would have been great to have taken a picture while we were there." I was skilfully working my way into asking him if we could drive back in the RV to get some shots before heading to the RV park together, however, after only two weeks of co-habitation, Gunnar had me completely figured out. He knew the real meaning of that comment was: I AM going back to the store to take a picture and I'm going to try to convince you to go with me. Before I could say another word he cut me off declaring: "I am exhausted and I am N-N-NOT driving all the way back to that store and sit around just so you can take a picture of a bunch of boots."

Well that did it. That just pissed me off. Who was this guy thinking he can just lay it on the line like that? And how dare he see through me so quickly?

So, once again, we had ourselves a situation where he drew the line...and it was my job to cross it.

"Well I'm going back anyway," I said, "and I will walk to our campsite by myself if I have to. Besides, I feel like getting some exercise."

Okay, that last part was a total lie. I wasn't really in the mood to exercise at all, let alone walk SIX MILES to the campground. I was in the mood to take a nap, actually, but I could tell we needed some separation pretty fast before we ended up in a big fight over pictures of cowboy boots. At this point the best thing I could do was stop talking, grab my camera, shut the door of the RV behind me and head back into town. So I did.

Note to Gunnar's future wife: When you are at the shopping mall, you know those guys that wait outside the dressingroom and hold their wives' purses while they try on clothes? Gunnar's not going to be that guy. I can tell you that right now.

So I went back to The Territory and took my pictures. Satisfied with that, I also discovered some adorable cowboy boots on sale that I didn't see the first time around, so I bought a pair before starting my six-mile trek to find Gunnar and the RV park.

A couple miles into my journey, I was on the side of Hwy 177 taking a picture of the Cow Creek sign when I was startled by the ear-splitting wail of a police siren directly behind me. I nearly jumped out of my sandals as I spun around to see a squad car pulling up.

Was it illegal to take pictures of signs with weird names in Oklahoma?

As the officer got out of his car and approached me I immediately asked if I was in trouble, but he just stared at me from behind his menacing cop shades and began asking me question after queston: where are you going? where do you live? where is your car? do you have identification? why are you carrying a box of cowboy boots along the side of a highway? On and on!

I sighed and warned him it was a long story. He said he had time and wanted to hear everything, so I took a deep breath and started from the beginning; from my partnership with Gunnar, the long email, the children suffering in Iraq, my former fashion career, the 1,000-mile fundraiser walk, what a hero Gunnar was, the hundreds of dollars of RV-repair bills, the unbearable heat, eighteen days of cohabitating in 50 square feet of living space with someone who leaves the toilet seat up, my intense need of personal space, the cheeseburger at Louie's, the tone that Gunnar took with me about the picture taking, my stubborn personality, the great deal I got on the boots, how I know I'm driving Gunnar crazy but just can't seem to stop it, the photo of the Cow Creek sign, and that I had no other way to get to the RV park other than walk.

There. Now he knew everything.

By the time I was done telling him the story I felt pretty sure he wouldn't be asking me any more questions...so when the second squad car pulled up on the scene and the next cop wanted to know what was going on, Officer Rouse cut me off before I could get started again. "Sounds like she and her business partner could use a little space," he said.

It's so nice when someone just gets you, you know?

He said I was free to go, but pointed out that it was still a long walk to the RV park and offered to call me a cab. Then I pointed out that because of the fundraiser I needed to save money, and strongly hinted that he might want to just give me a ride instead. So Officer Rouse graciously opened the back door to his squad car (my first time!!), I hopped in and we had a very enjoyable ride to the RV park together listening to his Patsy Cline CD.

Oklahoma folks sure are friendly. Thanks Officer Rouse!

Stay tuned for the next adventure!


Love, Dina

Day Eighteen; Guthrie, Oklahoma

Ahhh...it's Saturday morning, which means it's the weekend...which means we have nothing much to do today other than find our next campsite. Well, that is unless you're Gunnar, I suppose, who right now is out walking to our next campsite.

As for me, I'm still here in bed recovering from the double-header YMCA sessions we did yesterday in Edmond, OK and Guthrie, OK. That was pretty exhausting, so I decided to just chill for awhile and leisurely read email and some on-line news....which happens to include two nice news pieces that just came out here in Oklahoma!! Yay!

Check out Channel 9's video:
http://www.news9.com/Global/category.asp?C=116601&clipId=3965194&autostart=true

...and this story from the Edmond Sun:

http://www.edmondsun.com/archivesearch/local_story_199002139.html

(She misquoted me in a couple places, but nothing I'm too bothered by.)


***

Both sessions went well yesterday and, as usual, the kids really enjoyed meeting Gunnar! At the Edmond YMCA, about a dozen little girls swarmed Gunnar after the session asking for autographs. I'm telling you...the guy seems to have a female fan club everywhere he goes.

Look out, Jonas Brothers.

Love, Dina

Day Sixteen; Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

It was another rippin' hot day down here in Oklahoma, and it began pretty much like most other days on the adventure so far. Around 5:45am, after I heard Gunnar head out the door to begin his daily walk, I dragged myself out of bed to fire up a pot of coffee. While the coffee brewed, I laid back down on my bed and did some strategic thinking with my eyes closed.

Over my first cup of steaming java I caught up on some email correspondence and document drafting. Then, I perused the New York Times online while I finished the pot and waited for Gunnar to call and tell me he's ready for a walking break.

By 8:00am the call came in from the road (would you believe he encountered MORE scary dogs??) so I mobilized into action.

This involves first getting dressed, putting makeup on and doing my hair. Then, it's unhooking the RV's electrical cord and water hose from the park facilities...and finally, it flushing out the sewage drain hose while I hold my breath and grimace.

After the RV was unhooked and ready to go, I rolled out of the park around 8:30am and began tracking the route to go find Gunnar. I caught up with him about 10 miles away where he was conveniently located by a donut shop, so I stopped in for a chocolate glazed and a cinnamon roll.

One thing I have noticed down here is that you don't have to travel far to find a donut shop. They are everywhere! So are catfish restaurants, as well. I confess I've been stopping for donuts just about every day now and I'm afraid it might be starting to become an addiction.

Fortunately, the catfish addiction isn't something I'm too concerned about.

***

A couple hours later we were headed towards the Bethany, OK YMCA for a 12:30pm session with the kids there. We pulled into town around 11:15am, so we were a little early and had some time to kill, but while we were stopped at a gas station to fuel up... it happened again.

I spotted a nail salon across the street that took walk-in appointments.

Quickly, I looked at my watch and realized that if I bolted right now, and they got me in a chair right away, I could get a pedicure before the YMCA activities started. Like deja vu, I jumped from the RV and told Gunnar I'd catch up with him. As I sprinted across the four-lane road I could hear him yelling at me that the Y was two miles away...but it was too late. There was no turning back.

It wasn't easy but I managed to dodge through the heavy traffic and get to safety on the other side. From there, I crossed the parking lot, flew threw the salon door, and before I knew it I was having my feet exfoliated while sitting in a fabulous rolling massage chair. Ahhh.

Okay, I admit that I may have a problem here, but they say admitting it is the first step.

While my feet soaked, I sent a few emails from my phone, and kept close watch over the time. If I could get out the door by noon, I'd have exactly thirty minutes to make the two mile walk to the YMCA. (After the previous nail episode, asking Gunnar to come pick me up in the RV wasn't an option I wanted to consider.)

Unfortunately, the woman doing my pedicure didn't speak much English so my pleas to finish by noon weren't working...and by 12:15pm I was paying my bill and running out the door down the side of the four-lane road leading towards the YMCA.

It was a busy thoroughfare and cars were honking and swerving around me as I ran top speed in my flip-flops (cotton still wedged between my toes) along the curb. I had 15 minutes to go two miles. I admit this was very dangerous, and I would have just run in the grass but that would have made a mess of the wet polish. I had no choice.

Several blocks later I was still running when a woman pulled up beside me in her car and asked if I needed help. She said I looked frantic and was worried if everything was okay. I explained my situation of being trapped in an RV for two weeks, my desperate need for freedom, my fresh pedicure, the grass issue, and that I was about to be late to a very important YMCA appointment.

What a relief when she told me she completely understood! She showed me the pedicure she got yesterday (nice!) and then told me to hop in. She'd get me there in plenty of time.

A few minutes later she dropped me off outside the YMCA door. I thanked her and gave her an ASM4P flier and told her to spread the word.

I just want to take this moment to give a shout out to Kimberly... not only for the ride, but for understanding my entire situation without question. That's sisterhood, no doubt!

***

After I arrived at the YMCA--toenails intact-- Gunnar and I met with about 40 kids and did our usual fun session: talking, collecting letters and being warmly welcomed by all. It was a great afternoon.



July 15, 2009

Today we reached Norman, Oklahoma and had a GREAT afternoon session with about thirty 10-12 year old kids at the Cleveland County family YMCA. After we finished our presentation, they wrote letters for us to take to the kids in Iraq and Afghanistan, and WOW---did they ever do an amazing job! Here are a few quotes from their letters:

"I realize that all you kids are going through a lot...Whenever I heard about your country, people would say bad things. But now I realize it's not like that. Though some people there made bad choices, I think totally different about it now. I am here to help you through all these hardships."


"I never really thought about how lucky I am. You are so much more mature than me...Here in America we think about what we don't have...I feel so sympathetic for you guys. I'm really grateful now, it's like a wakeup call. I'm keeping you in my prayers."


"I am sorry that you are probably scared. It's alright, I'm here for you."


Before we knew it, several of them had already started planning their fundraisers for ASM4P, so we decided to give them all T-shirts to encourage them to keep up the good work.

Go Norman, Oklahoma!!


July 14, 2009

Today was a quiet day with no YMCA stops so this afternoon we pulled into Cedar Blue RV park south of Sulphur, OK. An elderly man named Joe was on duty in the office to check us in and when we told him about Gunnar's walk he was very touched by the project. He shared the story of his own grandson's return from serving in Iraq, and how the stress of the war wears on these soldiers. As we were about to pay him, he spontaneously pulled out his wallet and paid for our night's stay in the park with his own money. It was clear that he not only wanted, but needed, a way to do something to show support for another soldier.

At that moment, I just felt so honored that I was a part of this wonderful project. It is so clear to me how many Americans are out there who want and need this opportunity to do something, to help someone, in whatever small way they can.

***

The day prior, Gunnar shared his story with the woman who checked us in to our RV park in the previous town. Unlike Joe, however, she wasn't as receptive to the project...but I think that was mainly due to the hangover that she was obviously still recovering from.

We left a flier for her to read when she was feeling better. Just in case.

***

In addition to helping manage the walk, my job is also to remind everyone why Gunnar is out there every day in the 100+ degree heat getting chased down country roads by packs of wild dogs. It’s to remind all of YOU GUYS out there in BlogLand that it is because of your donations to War Kids Relief he can help children traumatically affected by war, and make the world a safer place for all of us.

Is this guy a hero or what?!?

For Gunnar to succeed in his mission, War Kids Relief desperately needs your financial support. The truth is, however, Gunnar is too adorably humble to just come out and ask people to cough up their cash.

I’m adorable too, but to be honest...humility has never been my thing, so I’ll just come straight out with it: WILL YOU FINANCIALLY SPONSOR GUNNAR’S WALK??

I know right now everyone is feeling a bit pinched financially, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a huge sacrifice if you look at it the right way. For example, if I were going to sponsor Gunnar on a per mile basis (for 1,000 miles), here’s are some things I could sacrifice for a great cause:

1 cent/mile ($10) = one new lipstick shade…two trips to Starbucks…three tabloid mags in the grocery store check-out lane.
2 cents/mile ($20) = lunch out with my friends…movie for two…happy hour
5 cents/mile ($50) = manicure/pedicure…one-hr massage…nice bottle of wine… that new tattoo I was thinking of getting (no, not really!)
10 cents/mile ($100) = out to dinner at my favorite restaurant…cute new pair of shoes…one of my weekly trips to Target where my shopping cart gets mysteriously filled with way too much stuff I don’t need in the first place.

So those are a few things on my list. What would YOU be willing to sacrifice to help Gunnar reach his goals? Give it some thought today, and when you’re ready…that PayPal button is right there waiting for you.

www.warkidsrelief.org/donate
(How’s that for adorably subtle?)

On that note...I'll sign off for the day! Stay tuned for the next adventure!

Love, Dina

Day Fourteen; Adrmore, Oklahoma

Well, yesterday marked thirteen days since I've been living in an RV...so now I know that it takes exactly thirteen days before I officially start cracking up. It's not that I don't like the RV, but the heat down here is so unbearable that I have been hibernating in the air-conditioning here nearly 24/7. I'm climbing the freakin' walls!

We reached the Ardmore, OK campground yesterday morning, and at 1:15pm we drove into the town to work with kids at the Ardmore YMCA. The session went well (forty five 6-8 year olds!) but as we were driving out of town back towards our campsite I just couldn't TAKE it anymore. Somewhere in the middle of town I jumped out of the RV (thankfully, Gunnar was driving) and told him I was off in search of a nail salon. I said I would find my own way home.

He just stared at me for a moment, his mind searching for any part of this that made sense to him...and then did a combination headshake-eyeroll and drove off.

I no longer cared about the 105 degree afternoon heat or the blazing Oklahoma sun, I was determined to find a salon that took walk-in appointments if it was the last thing I did. It wasn't easy and I had to try two locations to find a place, then walk more than three miles to get back to the campsite...and I probably lost four pounds in sweat, but it was worth it. Sometimes there's just nothing like a new full set.

On another positive note, I stopped by Beane's Western Wear store on the walk home and bought a cool new cowboy hat. If you're ever in Ardmore, OK and in the market for western apparel, stop in. They have a great selection.

***

Gunnar and I have been working hard to keep our spirits up today because the once steady stream of donations has pretty much dried up. It's been many days since we've had any support. Of course, we still truly believe in everything we are doing, and no matter what we will forge ahead until we reach our goal, but I admit it can be an emotional struggle. We have all the programs designed and the partners in place. All we need is the money.

Every morning, Gunnar puts in 15-20 miles of walking. Our afternoons are spent hammering away on our computers, and in the evenings we now watch inspirational movies to help us stay focused.

Last night it was "Rocky."

Tonight it's "Rudy."

We are fighters, too...but we do need support.



July 12, 2009


Today we offically left Texas and crossed over into Oklahoma. One state down, five to go!

On our route, the two states are separated by a big lake and a tiny bridge, so I had to drive Gunnar across the border to get him there safely. After reaching the Oklahoma side, I looked for a good place to drop him off to keep walking...but apparently some of the folks in this neighborhood didn't get the memo that the Civil War had ended, so I kept driving until I found a place that a nice North Dakota boy like Gunnar would be safe.

***

So far, the Oklahoma landscape doesn't seem too different from Texas. The people here are really friendly as well, however, I confess the Oklahoma accent makes me feel like I am in a foreign country. I only understand about thirty percent of the spoken language, and when asked a question, I usually just pause, smile and say 'yes.'

So far that has worked out okay.

***

This afternoon, we stopped for lunch at a little restaurant in Madill, OK called Hobo Joe's. After our meal, Gunnar gave our waitress an ASM4P flier and told her about the project. Without hesitation, she and another waitress who overheard reached into their aprons and pulled out their own tip money to donate to the cause. It may not have been a lot of money, but that is an example of why this walk is important. We know that there are people all across the country that wish they had a way to do something--anything--to support both the kids, as well as the troops that are dealing with the war. This cause is important to all Americans. Even the waitresses of Madill, Oklahoma.

Keep walking, Gunnar. We'll get there!


I'll check back in later. Stay tuned...
Love, Dina

Day Eleven; an RV park in Sherman, Texas

July 11, 2009

It’s Saturday, and another scorcher out here on the Texas highways. It’s so hot the sun just bakes everything in sight, steamy heat radiates off the asphalt, and even the road-kill is burnt to a crisp. With daily temps over 100 degrees, they say it’s unseasonably warm.

I think I just saw a tumbleweed roll by.

Today is our day off from the YMCA teaching sessions and Gunnar finished his walking for the day, so we pulled into another RV park to get caught up on email and chill in the air-conditioning (yes, it’s fixed-whew!) until tomorrow.

I must say that in all my globetrotting adventures I was completely unfamiliar with the world of RV travel. In the last week alone I have learned more about water hoses, sewage dumping, and special RV toilet paper than I ever thought possible. I'm even starting to throw around phrases like ‘30 amp hookups’ and ‘’spin-lock rings’.

I've also learned that not all RV parks are alike. Some parks are definitely upper end and are located in picturesque forests and on scenic lakes. They are usually inhabited by luxurious, pimped-out motor homes (often by retired couples) that when fully expanded are massive enough to take over a city block. When we pull our little C-Class camper up next to them at a site I admit to feeling somewhat intimidated.

And then there are other RV parks that remind me more of Third World villages. Campgrounds resemble parking lots with wall-to-wall trailers packed together, and accessorized by ratty lawn furniture, wife-beater t-shirts, housecoats and cigarette smoke.

Fascinating.

***

On other topics, driving through northern Texas I have noticed an interesting juxtaposition between country and city. The country highways are lined with cattle ranches, lots of barbed wire, cornfields, big pickup trucks with McCain-Palin bumper stickers, lots of Lone Star Flags, and dilapidated houses that have seen better days. The suburban areas, however, are a stark contrast with mansion-filled residential areas with stone entrances sporting elegant names, strip malls with fabulous landscaping, and lots and lots of money.

As far as the people go, Texans are a friendly, relaxed bunch, and even strangers seem comfortable telling their personal stories just moments after meeting us. In fact, as we checked in to the RV park today, by the time my credit card was run through I learned all about the manager’s mother in Pennsylvania. I find their accents quite soothing as well...and even the rhetorical question hot enough for y’all? doesn’t seem to annoy me the way it does back home.

I've also noticed that ever since we crossed the state line Gunnar has been speaking with a southern drawl as well. Yeeee-up. That’s raght. He hasn’t called me sugar yet, though. I appreciate that.

***

July 10, 2009

Gunnar is starting his walks earlier and earlier each day trying to stay ahead of the heat. Today he left the RV at 5:30am, and whether he ever was a morning person or not, he is now. I usually wait until about 7:00am before I catch up to him in the RV to give him his breaks and be ready in case anything goes wrong.

Mid-morning, while I was waiting in the RV drinking my coffee and reading the newspaper, Gunnar called me frantically on my phone to come pick him up. Apparently, he was being chased by two savage Rotweillers. After quickly finishing my coffee and an interesting movie review, I sprang into action and drove off to save him. When I arrived, there were definitely two scary dogs there, but I’m not so sure about the “chasing” part as the dogs were contained on the other side of a fence. Either way, I offered him a cold towel so he could relax for a few minutes before heading back out to the road...as well as my pepper spray and stun gun to use during any future varmint attacks. You just never can be too careful.

By 12:30pm we arrived at the Anna, TX YMCA campgrounds. It is a fabulous facility in a beautiful, forested area. We did an hour-long session with about 35 little kids who were very engaged with Gunnar as he sat on the floor with them telling stories from Iraq. Everywhere we go, the kids just fall in love with him and they all listen in rapt attention before he patiently answers their questions.

It’s hard to believe that this is the same guy who just a few months ago would lose all color in his face after 20 minutes in the car with my kids. After all this is over he could open a daycare.

To me, the best part is that wherever we go, and no matter how young these kids may be, they truly have compassion for their peers in Iraq and Afghanistan. They get it and they want to help. The letters and art they create contain messages of friendship and encouragement. They share their own personal stories of friends and family, and yesterday, one little boy even wrote three full pages teaching his Iraqi “friend” how American football is played.

I’m telling you…this is world peace is in the making. Stay tuned for the next adventure!

Love, Dina

Day Nine; Somewhere in northern Texas

Some wise person once said that life is what happens to you when you have other things planned.

At the moment, it sure seems that they were right.

It wasn’t long ago that I was running my own fashion business, traveling to and from New York, staging fashion shows and scheduling model fittings; the dream job I had been pursuing since birth. Right now, however, I am writing a blog from a campground somewhere in Texas, at the beginning of a 10-week road trip with a soldier named Gunnar…who also happens to be my new business partner. I know. It sounds crazy.

For those of you who I communicate with on a regular basis, you pretty much know what’s going on…but for those who are reading this wondering who the hell is Gunnar? I will back up a bit.

Gunnar Swanson is a 31-year old Iraq war veteran who unexpectedly appeared in my inbox last December. At that time I was getting War Kids Relief back on its feet as an in-house CCC program and hoping to find someone with enough determination and skill to run it. Gunnar Googled his way to WKR and wrote a very long and emotion-filled letter (longest email ever written by a straight guy), which explained that although he was no longer in the army and was currently working as a dolphin trainer in Florida, he desperately wanted to help the Iraqi children he had seen victimized by the war. He offered to do a walk to raise funds for WKR and asked for my support in coordinating it. Not being one to pass up an interesting opportunity, I told him I was happy to help…and from there it didn’t take long to realize that this was the guy to lead the program into the future.

By February, Gunnar said adios to the Florida sunshine and hello to the Minnesota winter. Since then we have been hard at work developing both the organization as well as the walk.

Gunnar is an interesting guy in every category. He’s got a heart the size of Texas and is as honest as they come. He’s passionate about whatever he sets his mind to, and he can go from well-spoken leader to total goofball in a matter of seconds. He also does a spot-on imitation of me that makes me laugh until I can barely breathe. He stands about 5’11”, has blue-eyes, and keeps his would-be blonde hair buzzed down to about 1.5mm in length. A bold fashion move, for sure, but paired with his body-builder physique and the mirrored wrap glasses, it works for him. Stylish, in a bad-ass sort of way. (A side benefit of the hairstyle is that I always know when I’m irritating him because I can see the pronounced veins springing up across his head. A handy warning signal that lets me know when it’s time to make myself scarce. Or, if I’m feeling antagonistic, it’s a clear indicator of my success.)

We come from different worlds, for sure. I’ve been married for 17 years with two kids, and my happiness staples are bubble baths, lattes and manicures. Gunnar is single, is into hard rock music and body building, and he breaks into a cold sweat when my kids start whining. But, we both have an unwavering commitment to help children impacted by war, so we manage to work together no matter how bad my PMS gets. Or when his music begins to give me eye twitches.

Most of the time we get along pretty well, and we are both teaching and learning from one another on a daily basis. Up until I turned 40, my entire life seemed to be dedicated to my fashion career, but after Daisy and Coco came along my priorities shifted hard, and caring for disadvantaged children took the place of determining next season’s hemlines.

As a veteran who has seen the effects of war on children, Gunnar wanted to make a symbolic sacrifice to show his commitment to the cause, so he is walking 1,000 miles from Texas to Minnesota. While I may not be walking with him (I’m managing the communications center from the inside of the air-conditioned RV), I will be going 10 weeks without a bubble bath, hair foil, or privacy.

We all make sacrifices in our own ways, you know?

So here we are, about to spend the next ten weeks on the road together for our fundraiser: “A Soldier’s March for Peace.” www.warkidsrelief.org/march

A 1,000-mile walk organized by a fashion designer and a dolphin trainer. What could possibly go wrong?


July 9, 2009

Well, unfortunately, it has been so hectic this past week getting everything underway that I haven’t had time to start blogging until now…so, in an effort to catch up, here are a few highlights from the first week:

-After I packed the RV with computer equipment, office supplies, lawn chairs, sunscreen, clothes, manicure essentials, makeup, cookware and a blender, we drove out of my driveway on July 1. I left enough space in the RV for Gunnar’s army duffle filled with assorted T’s and muscle shirts, walking shoes, and his Ipod. Gunnar wonders why I would pack an entire set of dishware. I’m sure he’s curious about the balsamic vinegar as well.

-We met up with Anne Steeves, our summer St. Olaf intern, and Kathy Braga, our route coordinator, who followed us down to Dallas (with Kathy’s two daughters, Sophie/10 and Natalie/6) to get things organized for the kickoff and get us off and running for the first week. These women are amazing, and Gunnar and I would be a hopeless mess without them.

-Our tire blew out somewhere in the middle of Missouri where we met the first of many toothless, yet friendly, auto mechanics.

-We spent Friday night in a ghetto trailer park in Missouri. The rusted out trailers parked there had a creepy graveyard-like atmosphere, and there were signs posted in the bathhouse saying “No smearing feces on the wall.” Apparently, this has been a problem. (Funny, I used to think that ‘roughing it’ was staying in a hotel without cable TV, so this ranked high on my list of life adventures.)

-The generator in the RV conked out so, unfortunately, we don’t have air-conditioning when stopped. Somehow, Gunnar and I are still getting along with one another.

-The July 4th kick-off in Dallas was a great time despite the 100+ degree heat. About a dozen or so little sweating kids showed up, as well as a Channel 8 news reporter, so we made the Dallas 6:00pm news. Yee haw!!

-After the kick-off, Gunnar spent four hours in the parking lot of our hotel helping a nice guy named Josh, who was determined to fix our RV generator (to no avail). On the bright side, I made an excellent batch of margaritas and my famous guacamole in the hotel room for the rest of the team to enjoy while we waited for Josh and Gunnar to give up.

-In the past four days we have met with youth groups at three area YMCAs to rally the kids. Gunnar is amazing and the kids love him to pieces! Check out his blog: www.warkidsrelief.org/march/blog

-So far my do-it-yourself leg-waxing kit seems to be working out pretty well.

-Within the last seven days, our RV nightmares include replacing one blown out tire, a bum carburetor, a dead battery, and a GPS that kept sending us to all the wrong addresses.

-On the upside, we are getting a steady stream of walk sponsors and donations from people around the country!!! So far so good!

Okay, I’m signing off now, but will report back again soon.

Love, Dina

Day One July 1, 2009

Off we go!