Riding up to Fort Collins with my friend Kristin yesterday, we had a chance to catch up on the happenings of the last couple of weeks and talk about expectations for the upcoming Op Smile fundraiser we would be meeting to discuss that night.  We met on a mission in Tegucigalpa, Honduras and like a couple of true Denver-ites, we hit it off famously.  We had a few free days in Teguc after the mission that gave us a chance to go for a great hike.  We talked the entire way.  The big news, of course, was that she would be getting married only a few weeks after returning to the states.  As if that wasn’t exciting enough, she and her husband had decided to forego the traditional wedding registry and use the opportunity to raise awareness and money for something they both felt strongly about, water.  They partnered with an organization called charity: water and asked their friends and family to donate the money they would have otherwise spent on plates, wine glasses and picture frame.

It has been about two months since the wedding and their campaign has been wildly successful.  As we headed north on I25 yesterday, I asked her if they had met their goal of $10,000 yet?  ”We are about $200 away from $12,000.” Kristin replied.  I just laughed in amazement.  Incredible!

By the time they finish fundraising, they will have enough money to build two and a half wells.

charity: water put together a great article on the couple including some great pictures from the wedding.

If you want to help their cause or lear more about charity water, check out the blog or head directly to charity: water’s website.

For just such an urge, I keep all of my camping gear stored in large rubbermaid tubs so that they can be thrown in the trunk of a car along with a backpack and water for quick escapes to the backcountry.  Stopping only at the Tattered Cover for a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance I made my way south on HWY285 out of Denver and into the foothills.  On the outskirts of Silver Springs I turned south onto Pine Valley Rd/CO RD 126, a road which could only have been fully experienced in a Porsche.  I decide to park along the highway at the entrance to an abandoned logging road and explore the hills to the east.  Over the first crest…Ha!  Perfect…the trees gave way to a fading single track trail through a meadow made possible by logging years ago.  In the foreground a few mule dear paused their grazing to check me out.  In the background…words fail me here…

I set the tent up down the hill and just out of site of the trail.  Two red pines offered perfect support for my hammock and an unbeatable view.  I spent the next 4 hours reading, writing, trying to learn how to play the harmonica and getting lost in thought as I stared over my toes…

Before dusk fell I set out to explore the forest around me and do some reflecting on the experiences from last year’s travels.

The next morning I was greeted by the sunrise over the mountains and a clear blue sky.  Still in need of a little more exploring, I packed the car and set out in search of a dirt road to anywhere.  The driving god’s were smiling that day and I found what I was looking for in St Hwy 550 just north.  A well groomed Forest Service road in need of some Ken Block style tormenting.  I finally popped out of the woods unscathed in Bailey and back onto Hwy 285 North toward Denver.  With the adventure bug satisfied, for the moment at least, I returned home (aka my friend’s house) with a list of new roads that need exploring and campsites from which to launch off weekend expedition.

After less than 24 hours back in the city I can already hear the cry of the mountains rising from in the back of my mind.

SATELITE MAP OF THE CAMPSITE AND DRIVE

1. The trusty TNF Roadrunner II set up in the clearing.
2. Keeping my company while I read
3. Spring blosoms
4. Essentials (“Welcome to Colorful Colorado” Ball Cap, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Let My People Go Surfing by Patagonia Founder Yvon Chouinard,  Journal and Hammock)
5. Sunrise over the Rockies

The rest of the week in Rome was spent taking the city for all it was worth.  Eating, Cooking, Fixing George’s Motobike, Riding George’s Motobike, Trying to learn Italian with the owner of the pizzaria around the corner from the house, people watching and writing by the Pantheon, visiting museums and churches, eating gelato and more motobike riding.  Big thanks to George and his roommates for giving me a place to stay and an excuse to cook.  My favorite part of the city was the Pantheon.  Walking through the maze of alleys between tall apartment buildings and shops, you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a beautiful piazza and staring at the Pagan Temple turned Catholic Church and thousands of hears of history.

I spent all day today trying to get to and into St. Peter’s Basilica for Easter Vigil.  From a busted motobike to a busted ankle, everything went wrong.  But, before we get into that, lets back up a bit. The anesthesia team leader from the last mission in Aswan, a woman whom I had just met, overheard me talking about my travels to Rome before heading home to the States.  Casually, she mentioned that she knew a nun from the Philippines, Mimi is Filipino, who now lives at the Vatican.  Generously, she offered to send St. Anna an e-mail to see if any additional tickets were available for the Easter Festivities.  As a side note, Rome is the Meca for Catholics during Holy Week.  If you didn’t know that, Google it.  Sure enough I received an e-mail from Mimi’s brother in the morning on Good Friday.  She has an extra ticket and offers her phone number so we can meet up.  Fast forward to 9am this morning, an hour before we are suppose to meet.  Dressed to the nines because I didn’t know if I would be home before mass, I make my way down to George’s scooter parked on the sidewalk infront of the apartment building.  Wheel lock off, steering lock off, key in, starter button depressed…silence…started button depressed…silence.  Alright, let’s try this the old fashioned way.  Kick start out and give her the old heave-ho…still nothing.  Tried again, but the leather bottoms of my dress shoes slip off the peg and I land a nice gash on my ankle.  Fortunately socks soak up blood quite well.  Well, back up to the apartment to call Sr. Anna to let her know I’m going to be late.  We reschedule for 4pm.  Give the bike half an hour to dry out after the inevitable flooding it received from the 30+ attempted starts.  Sure enough, when I go to put the bike back on the stand, it has come unhinged and rests teetering on half a hinge.  Fortunately, there is a shop within pushing distance.

Let me state two things: 1)  I hate messing things up.  In case you don’t know me, I’m a bit of a perfectionist.  2)  I am an acute control freak as well.  These two props are setting the stage for the explanation as to why I am trying so adimetly to get the bike started.

To this point I had not ridden the metro here in Rome because I couldn’t figure it out and I was afraid of getting on the wrong line, ending up in some other part of Italy after having my pockets picked and fined by the police because I had purchased the wrong ticket and forgotten to stamp it or give it to the driver or something like that.  Simply put, I was afraid of the Metro.

Back to the apartment: After about an hour of debating and the costs and benefits of walking, biking and the Metro I finally suck it up and walk out the door.  What better time than the present to face one’s fears.  As you can imagine, none of the above tragedy took place.  And in the end, I found myself walking off the A-Line into St. Peter’s Square…two hours early.

Four PM finally rolled around and I was standing prescribed meeting place.  No Sr. Anna.  4:10 – Still no Sr. Anna.  4:30 – Still no Sr. Anna.  I finally walk up the drive to the Swiss Guardsman standing at his post to ask if there is a phone I can use to call a friend in the Vatican.  I have to be honest here, it feels pretty empowering to walk up to a Swiss Guardsman and say, “I need to call a friend of mine.  She lives here…at the Vatican.”  Apparently he was less impressed with myself than I and directed me the local payphone.

First payphone was broken.  Out of change…Second payphone was broken.  Finally place the call and she is on her way down.  Out walks a cute little Filipino nun holding a white envelope.  Not only is there one ticket, but there are two tickets.  The first for the Easter Vigil and the Second for Easter Mass the following morning.  Both services led by Pope Benedict XVI.  HA!!

Thanks, Mimi!

Fast forward to 7:30 PM and I am standing outside Church in St. Peter’s Square waiting in a line of a few thousand waiting my turn to find a seat.  I have been adopted by a great couple from Birmingham, Bob and Melissa.  As I would learn 10 minutes later, they have 5 daughters…two of which are single…with a wink wink from Melissa.  Haha!

And this is the front of the line…

After 20 more minutes of pushing and shoving, the poor 5′ nun standing next to me was nearly trampled, we finally make it to the security check point.  Now it dawns on me.  There are seats set up outside in the piazza, but we are headed into the Basilica.  Through the metal detectors and a few steps later, I am walking past Swiss Guard and struck by the sight before me.

Thousands of people standing in wait for the Pope…let me say that again…the Pope.  So start Mass.  In true Catholic form, the service was 3 hours long and everything was in Latin and Italian.  We were, however, able to witness two baptisms and receive communion.  Words fail me here in my attempt to explain what the experience meant to me.  Perhaps it is something too personal for a medium such as this.  For now, I will let the pictures do the talking.

Pope Benedict XVI

For the last few days, I have been lounging around Rome.  Waking up late, taking the scooter into the city, reading by the Colosseum and eating all over town.  I stood huddled with hundreds of people from all over the world last night to see the Pope.  After the candle light procession, the way of the cross, he stood on a hill above the Colosseum to address the eagerly waiting crowd.  He spoke about the Easter Season and the meaning of Good Friday.  At least that is the gist of things I understood from the bits of translation I got from the Italian man standing next to me.

That little red dot in the little red tent on the hill is the Pope.

Today, I am off to meet up with a friend of a friend at the Vatican for a ticket to the Easter Vigil tonight.

My last mission with Operation Smile as an Outcomes Data fellow is finally over.  Hard to believe it has been a year already.

After a week in Aswan, we were able to screen 200 patients and operate on over 100.

The final day of surgery consisted entirely of patients over the age of 15.  It is difficult to imagine what it would be like to be born with a severe facial deformity.  Try to imagine living with all the way though high school.

screening is completed with 150+ candidates and 110 on the surgery schedule for next week.

summary from the last couple of days: egyptian kids are adorable

1. Cute Kid
2. Meghan (Operation Smile Country Director for Egypt) with Cute Kid
3. Cute Kid
4. Cute Kid

1. Water taxis on the Nile
2. The city beyond the unfinished obelisk downtown
3. Temple of Isis
4. Temple of Isis
5. Our Egyptologist and tour guide for the day
6. The view from the lunchtable