The Eerily Beautiful Purple Rain

This was originally posted on June 13,2015
I am posting it again in honour of Prince.  He wasn't just an iconic performer, he was a sweet guy.

In the summer of 2011, I travelled to Lesotho with 12 Guelph high school students.  These brilliant kids had been selected from each of their schools to join a group called 'Reach Lesotho'.   The brain child of an equally brilliant young man, Abid Virani, the Reach Lesotho kids worked tirelessly for 18 months educating themselves on international development issues and specifically the difficulties faced by the people of Lesotho.  I had the privilege of getting to know and love these students and the even greater privilege of leading them into this beloved country.

We were all changed by that trip.  Four years later, many of them are now completing their first university degree and heading into professional programs.  I am so proud of each one of them, for who they are and for what they have accomplished.

Reach Lesotho:  Summer of 2011

After every trip to Lesotho, I come home inspired to find unique ways to raise more funds for our programmes there.  I carry home with me the memory of the faces of our foster children, the women who struggle to keep their families alive and the sick who, despite incredible advancements in the treatment of HIV, continue to struggle for survival.  In the fall of 2011, I had the brilliant idea of holding a huge party in my front yard.  Remember my Batman?  The qualities that make my husband face home intruders in his underwear with bat in hand, are the same qualities that make it very difficult for him to relax when 200 people are partying in a huge tent on his front yard.

For nine years now, the internationally renowned blues artist, Steve Strongman and his band, have headed to Guelph to entertain his Guelph fans in a back yard party.  I admit that I am one of Steve's groupies.  His music is magical.  My good friend, Kevin Brown, feels the same way.  Up until 2011, Kevin hosted these back yard parties with all proceeds given to Bracelet of Hope.  Every year, Kevin's friends ( an army of them ) and family ( an army in and of itself ) would pile into his small back yard to enjoy good food, great company and the incredible musical talent of Steve and his band.  And every year, in true Ontario style, it would rain and the party would be moved into Kevin's small living room with Steve and his band belting it out in the corner, the couches moved aside and Kevin's beautiful hard wood floor straining under the weight of our middle aged dancing feet.

In 2011, to preserve that beautiful floor and anticipate the rain, I rented a huge party tent.  The good folks from Royal Rentals ended up donating the tent.  In the week before the event, they erected this monstrous white party tent, hammering pegs deep into the ground just above our weeping tiles, my husband looking on in horror.  He's such a good guy, my batman.  How many husbands would stand by as his crazy wife threatened the integrity of the household septic tank?  The tent was beautiful.  I will never forget driving home for weeks after the event, gasping as I caught the first glimpse of that majestic tent as it filled the space in front of our house.

We live on 11 acres in an old farm house.  The house sits in a small valley.  Even though we sit 300 meters back from the road, the acoustics of the valley heighten the sound of the cars as they whiz past.  As a result, it is not quite the quiet country property my husband hoped it would be.  But, who knew how perfect it would be for a party like this.  The property is not flat.  Not an inch of it anywhere.  Our dirt driveway climbs a hill to the house.  It's a hill.  It is not flat.  The tent was erected on a slope.  It was beautifully perched but obviously tilted.  We filled the tent with tables and chairs and food, a stage and, yes, a dance floor.  Who knew you could rent a dance floor?

About 150 people joined us that night.  My lovely prayer group ladies coordinated all the food.  Kevin's son, Richard Brown owner of Babelfish Bistro in Guelph, donated the best ribs I have ever tasted.  Steve and his band played for hours.  The dance floor was packed with multiple generations of people.   And I mean packed.  I watched.  Steve played his own music.  He also played the covers of songs that many at this party had grown up with.  Each time he played a new song, more people would flock to the dance floor until the dancers seemed to become one massive, moving unit.  They were dancing on a hill which made the unit slowly move toward Steve and the stage.  Every few minutes, the dancing mass would turn and dance back up the slope.  It was hilarious.

By one am, Steve was encouraging the crowd to let him go home.  I ventured into the house to see if my husband had survived the night without having a massive coronary.  He was asleep just as Steve and his band played the last song:  Purple Rain.  The song filled our little valley and echoed off the trees just as a post-midnight mist settled above.  It was so eerily beautiful.  I laid down for a minute, just to soak in the magic of the moment and thought of how blessed I was.  Who gets to be part of such joy?

We raised $26,000 that night for Bracelet of Hope just doing what people do best:  enjoying the company of others and celebrating the privilege of being alive.



Anne-Marie

Sometimes all you can do is stand up; Again and again and again

The last time I posted a blog was September 2015, 7 months ago.  That's a long time in the social media galaxy.  The last four years of my life have been extremely difficult and although I have stood up and dusted myself off repeatedly, another trial or new harsh reality has slammed my fragile equilibrium sending me underground again and again.  Taxing and unrelenting.  At times, this steady stream of difficulties has seemed impossible.  You know things are bad when you stop sharing your hurts with close friends.  If I had a friend that had been slammed this often, I'd take a step back just to avoid the sadness and heaviness; high tail it away from the anxiety of grief and loss......FLEE.  I might even fear that some of the mess would trickle over to my side of the fence.  Best to slowly step back and avoid connecting as much as possible.

Part of my problem is that I have been overwhelmingly blessed for most of my life and it is about time I realized that.  My expectations are, or were, too high:  life will always be good, I will always have what I need to be content and happy, everyone that I love will stay strategically placed in the landscape of my life right where I need them, my future will be bright and sunny.

 All this hardship has actually offended me.  I am offended.  How arrogant is that?  As if somehow I deserved only the best that life had to offer.

I don't deserve that at all.  Life is hard.  The more people you love, the more pain you invite into your future.  The easier your life has been, the less resilience and strength you earn.  All the good stuff, the happiness, the joy, the opportunities, the people, the comfort, they are all gifts.  I am blessed to have them but it's not my right to have them.  I think this might be called, growing up.  At 52, it is about time.  My apologies to all of you whose hardships started early in life, trotting beside you like old companions.  I imagine if you are still here and still smiling those old companions have seasoned and strengthened you.  They have made you sturdy and ready for life in a difficult world.  I want to be just like you.

But, I am not quite ready to embrace my difficulties, yet.  I still wish I could package them all up and send them to an address on a different planet;  but they are mine and they are teaching me.  I am learning to appreciate all the blessings but not hold on to them with tight fists.  I am learning to let strength and courage and resilience settle into my being.   These are pearls that I will hold on to with clenched fists;  fists that I punch into the air in defiance of my weaknesses and the weaknesses in the world around me.

I am not entitled to a good life but I have earned the right and collected the battle worn capabilities to make life better for those whose hardships are far greater than mine.  It's time to get back to that.

Anne-Marie

The gift of sight

Me Mansante- Bracelet of Hope Foster Mother

Hello Everyone,

I wanted to thank all of you.  In 24 hours, starting Monday morning, we raised $6,000 bringing the total to just under $11,000.   That's the highest one day total in the history of the Bracelet of Hope Falling Leaves Run.  A friend of mine is a long haul truck driver.  He drives across Canada and back.  He sees the whole country. He donated $500 yesterday morning.  I chastised him.  Some people give much more than they can comfortably manage.  I love those people.

This is what he told me, "Just wanted to see you well over the 10000$ range, a bit closer to twenty. Great to hear about your foster mom. Hope she only sees the nice things and people in this ole place. After all we are Canucks aren't we? We always try to side step the big corporations to make the world a better place...is the Canuckian way."

It is the 'Canuckian way'.  He has inspired me.  I'd like Me Mantsane to get those cataracts removed.  I need a new winter wardrobe.  Well, I want one.  I don't need one.  If I give up the new clothes this winter and stop buying lunches and coffee, I will save about $1,000.  I will put those funds towards her cataract surgery.   

In the meantime, if you can sponsor even a small amount and push my Falling Leaves run total to $15,000 before Saturday then in the new year, I will contribute the rest of the funds needed to restore Me Mantsane's eyes.  Small sacrifice for this beautiful woman's sight.

Thanking all Canadians and beyond!

This IS who we are.

Click here to donate:  http://fallingleavesrun.braceletofhope.ca/annemariezajdlik

Phacoemulsification: From Blindness to 20:20 vision in < 6 min

The clinic that Bracelet of Hope is building in Lesotho, Africa

One of Bracelet of Hope's foster mothers has cataracts and her blindness is progressing rapidly.  She is in her 60's and she cares for several of the foster children we support.

To have both cataracts removed will cost $5,000.  A cataract is a clouding of the lens of the eye leading to blindness.  The procedure that removes the cataract by removing the lens of the eye is called phacoemulsification which essentially breaks up the lens into tiny fragments that are then sucked out of the eye and replaced with a man-made lens.  

It takes six minutes and restores sight.

Imaging being in a country where this procedure is not available to you.  You are a mother and a grandmother and you care for foster children whose parents have died of AIDS but your vision is failing, rapidly.  Doctors know what the problem is and it is easily fixed but the fee is incomprehensible to you.  You accept blindness instead and those who rely on you for protection will be vulnerable once again.

My good friend Andy Mc Dougall and I have been emailing back and forth about Me Mantsane.  She accepts her fate without complaint.  You see, when life has not given you much and so many things have been taken from you, you not only learn strength and resilience but you also learn to accept things like the death of your children and your own blindness.  

Andy reminded me of a quote by Sir Edmund Burke that I used to quote in my speeches: 

     " All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men and women to do nothing"

Nothing is just not acceptable.  You see, when life has given you very, very much, I believe much is expected of you.  It just takes one step to move away from apathy and 'nothing':  One idea, one suggestion, one activity, one donation, one prayer.

Stay tuned.  Let's see what Andy and I can do for lovely Me Mantsane.  In the short term, we will need to find resources and funds for Me Mantsane that presently extend beyond the scope of Bracelet of Hope.   In the longterm, that clinic that Bracelet of Hope is building will provide the access that Me Mantsane and others like her need to receive this kind of treatment and live full and healthy lives without devastating disabilities that are easily correctable.

Click to donate as I walk and cycle very, very far away from doing nothing:

 http://fallingleavesrun.braceletofhope.ca/annemariezajdlik

Anne-Marie 

Braceletofhope.ca

We have bent it; NOW we can BREAK it!

In 2014, there were 36.9 million people living with HIV, most of them women and children in sub Saharan Africa.  Since 2,000, 25.3 million people have died of AIDS.

We have highly effective treatments for HIV, treatments that drive the virus in a patient's bloodstream to undetectable levels and once there, render the  virus incapable of transmission to another human being.  Test and treat everyone and the AIDS pandemic is over.

Here is how far we have come:  As of March 2015, 15 million people living with HIV were accessing effective treatment; up from 13.6 million in June of 2014.  That is staggering, life changing, world altering success.  That's treatment for  31 % of all children living with HIV, 41 % of all adults and 73% of all pregnant women infected with the virus in whom treatment prevents transmission to the newborn.  That's a lot of vulnerable people that have been given a shot at a decent life, a lot of children whose parents can live to care for them and a lot of families that can stay intact and healthy.

As it stands today, HIV cannot be cured.  Our immune system is pretty remarkable.  You have billions of cells called CD4 cells.  These are a type of white blood cell that are essential to a healthy immune system.  As soon as a virus or a bacteria enter your body, these amazing cells send signals to other immune cells which then kill the invading infection.  Without these cells, the immune system is rendered useless and the body is left vulnerable to a wide range of infections which ultimately kill the host.  Let's be clear, in non-scientific terms, this is terrible death.

You are beautiful and so are your CD4 cells

The HIV virus uses the CD4 cells to stay alive.  The virus enters the CD4 cell and uses the cells systems to divide itself causing the death of the cell and rapid division and spread of new HIV viruses.  We now have miraculous medications that stop the HIV virus from entering, using and killing the CD4 cell.  As long as a person with HIV takes these medications, he/she will live and live well.  But HIV still lurks.  Some CD4 cells containing the virus are left on standby.  They sit in latent pools of cells waiting to be called into active duty.  These pools of cells can exist for a lifetime and, in fact, it would take 120 years until each one has been called upon to fight infection.  Until all of these cells are called into action, HIV medications cannot reach the virus that hides in them.  Normal life expectancy, yes.  A cure, no.  At least not today.

But, new medications are on the horizon.  They act directly on these sleeping CD4 cells to kill the virus they contain.  A cure is within our reach.  After 25 years of fighting this virus with millions left dead and many more still infected, we are so close to a cure.

We have bent it; now we can break it!

I'd like to make HIV treatment and, eventually that cure, available to people who would otherwise be left out....and left to die.  We're building a clinic in Lesotho, Africa.  It will treat thousands of people infected with HIV.  And when the cure is available, we will have the structure in place to bring that cure to the most vulnerable people on the planet.  What a win for humanity that will be.  And we all know, humanity needs a few 'wins' right now.

Help me start equipping that clinic:  exam tables, stethoscopes, blood pressure cuffs, surgical tools, you name it, we'll need it.  Let's fully equip four exam rooms.  Bring $20,000 into the picture and do something no other North American community is doing!

Donate that much in the next three weeks, and I will run 5 km and cycle 50 km.  I may not be breathing at the end, but I will do it.  Join me if you'd like.

September 19th.  The fourth annual Bracelet of Hope Falling Leaves run ( and in my case, cycle).

Click here to donate:      http://fallingleavesrun.braceletofhope.ca/annemariezajdlik

Purple Rain

In the summer of 2011, I travelled to Lesotho with 12 Guelph high school students.  These brilliant kids had been selected from each of their schools to join a group called 'Reach Lesotho'.   The brain child of an equally brilliant young man, Abid Virani, the Reach Lesotho kids worked tirelessly for 18 months educating themselves on international development issues and specifically the difficulties faced by the people of Lesotho.  I had the privilege of getting to know and love these students and the even greater privilege of leading them into this beloved country.

We were all changed by that trip.  Four years later, many of them are now completing their first university degree and heading into professional programs.  I am so proud of each one of them, for who they are and for what they have accomplished.

Reach Lesotho:  Summer of 2011

After every trip to Lesotho, I come home inspired to find unique ways to raise more funds for our programmes there.  I carry home with me the memory of the faces of our foster children, the women who struggle to keep their families alive and the sick who, despite incredible advancements in the treatment of HIV, continue to struggle for survival.  In the fall of 2011, I had the brilliant idea of holding a huge party in my front yard.  Remember my Batman?  The qualities that make my husband face home intruders in his underwear with bat in hand, are the same qualities that make it very difficult for him to relax when 200 people are partying in a huge tent on his front yard.

For nine years now, the internationally renowned blues artist, Steve Strongman and his band, have headed to Guelph to entertain his Guelph fans in a back yard party.  I admit that I am one of Steve's groupies.  His music is magical.  My good friend, Kevin Brown, feels the same way.  Up until 2011, Kevin hosted these back yard parties with all proceeds given to Bracelet of Hope.  Every year, Kevin's friends ( an army of them ) and family ( an army in and of itself ) would pile into his small back yard to enjoy good food, great company and the incredible musical talent of Steve and his band.  And every year, in true Ontario style, it would rain and the party would be moved into Kevin's small living room with Steve and his band belting it out in the corner, the couches moved aside and Kevin's beautiful hard wood floor straining under the weight of our middle aged dancing feet.

In 2011, to preserve that beautiful floor and anticipate the rain, I rented a huge party tent.  The good folks from Royal Rentals ended up donating the tent.  In the week before the event, they erected this monstrous white party tent, hammering pegs deep into the ground just above our weeping tiles, my husband looking on in horror.  He's such a good guy, my batman.  How many husbands would stand by as his crazy wife threatened the integrity of the household septic tank?  The tent was beautiful.  I will never forget driving home for weeks after the event, gasping as I caught the first glimpse of that majestic tent as it filled the space in front of our house.

We live on 11 acres in an old farm house.  The house sits in a small valley.  Even though we sit 300 meters back from the road, the acoustics of the valley heighten the sound of the cars as they whiz past.  As a result, it is not quite the quiet country property my husband hoped it would be.  But, who knew how perfect it would be for a party like this.  The property is not flat.  Not an inch of it anywhere.  Our dirt driveway climbs a hill to the house.  It's a hill.  It is not flat.  The tent was erected on a slope.  It was beautifully perched but obviously tilted.  We filled the tent with tables and chairs and food, a stage and, yes, a dance floor.  Who knew you could rent a dance floor?

About 150 people joined us that night.  My lovely prayer group ladies coordinated all the food.  Kevin's son, Richard Brown owner of Babelfish Bistro in Guelph, donated the best ribs I have ever tasted.  Steve and his band played for hours.  The dance floor was packed with multiple generations of people.   And I mean packed.  I watched.  Steve played his own music.  He also played the covers of songs that many at this party had grown up with.  Each time he played a new song, more people would flock to the dance floor until the dancers seemed to become one massive, moving unit.  They were dancing on a hill which made the unit slowly move toward Steve and the stage.  Every few minutes, the dancing mass would turn and dance back up the slope.  It was hilarious.

By one am, Steve was encouraging the crowd to let him go home.  I ventured into the house to see if my husband had survived the night without having a massive coronary.  He was asleep just as Steve and his band played the last song:  Purple Rain.  The song filled our little valley and echoed off the trees just as a post-midnight mist settled above.  It was so eerily beautiful.  I laid down for a minute, just to soak in the magic of the moment and thought of how blessed I was.  Who gets to be part of such joy?

We raised $26,000 that night for Bracelet of Hope just doing what people do best:  enjoying the company of others and celebrating the privilege of being alive.



Anne-Marie

Gender Inequality: The plight of the world's women

Anne-Marie and Me Matsepo- Spring of 2014

"The fate of girls and women is precisely the fate of their countries their communities and their world."

No offense guys.........

In 1994, eight hundred thousand people we slaughtered in 100 days in the Rwandan genocide.  A brilliant description of the complicated social, cultural and political events that lead to this catastrophe can be found in Romeo Dallaire's book, 'Shake Hands with the Devil' and in James Orbinski's book, 'An imperfect Offering'.  Both of these books changed the way I think about the world.

Human beings are hard wired with resilience and the people of Rwanda are remarkable examples of this.  Seventy percent of Rwanda's population was female in the aftermath of the genocide.  Women played a very small role in the political and cultural tensions that lead to the slaughter.  Only 2.3 % of  those who were jailed for the killings were female.  As a result, ' there was a broad sense afterward that females were more responsible and less inclined to savagery'.  Whether that is true or not, the country was prepared to give more rights and freedoms to women and allow them to seek after positions of power.

Paul Kagame, Rwanda's president since the genocide and the rebel leader who defeated the perpetrators, was very wise when he turned his focus on rebuilding the country.  

He said, "You shut that population (females) out of economic activity at your peril.  The decision to involve women, we did not leave it to chance.  In the constitution we said that women have to make up 30 percent of the parliament."

By 2007, forty-eight percent of the seats in parliament were held by women and in 2008, Rwanda became the first country in the world with a majority of female legislators at 55%.  It is one of the fastest growing economies in Africa.  It is also one of the least corrupt and best governed.

I don't think that men in particular are at fault for the vast number of nations in economic peril or for the resultant hardship, poverty, corruption, death and disease that exists in a struggling or failing state.  I do believe that whenever large groups of people are left powerless, stigmatized, abused and victimized, whether male or female, the over arching loss is the collective power, intelligence and creativity that can be used to prevent and overcome such darkness.

Another book that changed my life is ' Half the Sky' by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn.  A must read for anyone looking for ways to overcome our greatest challenges as a world.  The theme of the book is summed up in this quote.

"In the nineteenth century the central moral challenge was slavery.  In the twentieth century, it was the battle against totalitarianism ( remember Hitler?).  We believe that in this century the paramount moral challenge will be the struggle for gender equality around the world."

I help run an organization ( Bracelet of Hope ) whose goal is to end the AIDS pandemic in Lesotho.  Seventy percent of those infected with the virus worldwide are women.  This is not because of some gender-related biological quirk or some risky exposure that is unique to women.   This is because the women in our world struggle everyday to survive in households, villages and countries where their lives are ruled over by predominantly male power brokers.

Bring everyone, male and female alike, into the places of work and around the decision making tables, and not only will AIDS be eradicated, but so will poverty and needless child mortality.

Join Bracelet of Hope this Sunday, May 24th at Apt. 58 in Guelph for an afternoon of shopping, good conversation and food as we support the women of Lesotho.  A group of students from Ross CVI will be combining beautiful beads made by women in Lesotho with Canadian materials and design to create custom bracelets for order and sale.  Tickets are $20 and available online at braceletofhope.ca or at the door.   All proceeds go to Bracelet of Hope and our efforts to assist the women and children affected by AIDS in Lesotho. 

For those of you living  in other countries who follow this blog, you can donate online at the same website:  braceletofhope.ca or you can add your thoughts by emailing us at info@braceletofhope.ca.  We would love to add your voices to this conversation and I would love to write about your experiences and opinions.  

Dr. Anne-Marie Zajdlik MD CCFP
Founding Director, Bracelet of Hope
Braceletofhope.ca