I'll Do It.

I’m not sure how to even begin describing the myriad emotions I have felt over the past week. I’ve struggled with how to tell this story…with where to start. I suppose I’ll start at the beginning.

I hadn’t seen Jyrki since the notorious ‘gin and tonic’ night with the international crew. We’d been trying to connect for weeks, but missed each other every time I had an evening off. I was excited to have a culinary guide to a restaurant that serves food other than rice and vegetables. He had a hell of a time finding my place, as I don’t know where I am about 98% of the time, but we miraculously ended up in the same place at the same time and sped off to dinner. We went to a French/Japanese fusion restaurant with an open kitchen and waiters who knew English. It was like heaven. As we were shown to our seats, we walked by a table where two Western-looking men were talking over drinks. Jyrki greeted them warmly as they stood up to meet us. Gordon Styles is a local business owner, originally from England, who has a humble and friendly demeanor. He was entertaining Edgar, a client from Houston, TX. Peanut, his daughter’s Pomeranian, whined from her cage below Gordon’s chair as us humans exchanged formalities. After light conversation, Jyrki and I continued on to our table. The meal was fantastic: Caesar salad, red wine, and crab cakes. I started telling Jyrki about New Day and how it fills my ‘emotional cup’ as the waiter filled up my actual cup with another serving of wine. This sparked a conversation about the importance of human connection, and how there are some great people to meet in the area.

‘On that note, hold that thought.’ I said as I scooted my chair back (which seemed to be heavier after two glasses of wine). I walked across the room to where Gordon and Edgar sat and invited them over to our table for a cup of coffee. A while later, we five were the last people in the restaurant, and lost in conversation about the places we’ve been and the places we’re going (everybody except for Peanut, who was out of her carrier and lost somewhere in the restaurant).  Then we got on a subject that really caught my attention. Gordon told me a story about a man who works for his company, Jerry. Jerry and his friend Phil rode across China from east to west on bicycles. The idea sparked from Jerry’s need to lose weight, and Phil‘s (a professional photographer) want to photograph the essence of China. The men rode over 4,500 km, which took them 57 days. Jerry linked his trek to Helping Hands, a local organization that connects volunteers to individuals with disabilities in need of services. Gordon gave me Jerry’s Wechat, assuring me that Jerry would love to share his story.

The next day, Jerry and I exchanged a few messages before deciding to meet at Holiday Plaza, where there was an exhibit of the pictures from their trip. Jerry, also a Englishman, walked me through the exhibit and told stories of the trip with a sense of humility that I admired. The rain was coming down outside, so my lessons were cancelled. We decided to have lunch and coffee. For two hours, we sat at a Chinese fast-food restaurant and talked about life. Over rice and tea, I quizzed him about the ins and outs of the trip, and told him about my own philanthropic adventures with Hygiene for Haitians and New Day. As we spoke, a few people recognized him (he and Phil have become a bit of local celebrities, as they appeared on the local television network to talk about their journey) and came up to shake his hand. He joked about his 'celebrity status' and how thankful I should be that he was gracing me with his presence. I laughed along and playfully made a few counter-jabs at his pride. But underneath my wit, I really was thankful. When the clouds broke, we went downstairs to catch a taxi. Well, I caught a taxi; Jerry haggled with a scooter driver for a ride. These drivers sit outside of malls and heckle you to use their services instead of a taxi (I tried this once before and I was sure that was the last day of my life). We bid each other farewell and made loose plans to meet again.

When I went home, I felt a shift in my heart. I was uncomfortable. I felt…itchy. There was a thought in the back of my mind that I was fighting to keep there. I had recently put some thought into spending time at the larger New Day foster home in Beijing before I go home to America next year. And now that thought was nagging and expanding in my brain. There was a voice coming from the deepest part of my soul that carried a simple, yet life-altering command; ‘Go. Walk.’ Could it be that this voice was asking me to do what I thought it was? I felt passion, inspiration, and purpose flood my heart and soul. The immensity of the thought brought me to my knees. Tears welled up in my eyes as I fought the idea- the idea to walk to the New Day North foster home in Beijing. There was dialogue happening in my heart that went like this:

Sane me: ‘I know what you’re thinking, and you need to cut that shit out.’

Bat shit crazy passionate me: ‘I understand your reservations, but you don’t really have a choice. This idea has set up camp in your heart and it’s here to stay.’

Sane me: ‘To walk to Beijing?! There are more sane ways to help New Day. Let’s focus on those. Do you have any idea how fucking far that is? Do you have any idea how long that will take? Are you fucking nuts?’

Bat shit crazy passionate me: ‘Yes. It’s about 2,200 km, and it should take about two and a half months if you don’t drag your lazy ass.’

Sane me: ‘I don’t appreciate you calling my ass lazy. But, ok. I’ll do it. If it’s in my stars, I’ll do it. Just please, please, please keep me safe. Please.’

The second I agreed, I felt a sensation that I can only describe as an earthquake in my soul. It felt like a stomach grumble, except 10 times more intense, and it came from my heart. To make sure I got the point, it happened twice. With that, the weight was lifted. I got up off of my knees, wiped my tears, and went to bed.

The next morning as I rode in a taxi to New Day, I thought about the unreal experience I’d had the night before. I thought that maybe if I didn’t tell a soul, the whole crazy idea would just kind of dissolve. I soon discovered that isn’t how these things work. I helped Myra teach preschool like normal, then went to lunch with Adrian the Canadian and his son. I ran the plan by Adrian the Canadian, who encouraged me to tell Doug and Janice. I was nervous, and still considering backing out. But I couldn’t forget the idea any easier than I could stop being Navajo or stop loving mashed potatoes….it had weaved its way into my being.

Before I talked to Doug and Janice, we all gathered for Feng Ming’s memorial. Though I didn’t post it in the previous blog, the emotions that I experienced during Feng Ming’s memorial were what solidified my desire to follow through with this idea. I looked around and saw a room full of people who have all been called ‘crazy’ for uprooting their lives and moving to China to love on these precious children. There was Myra- the preschool teacher from North Carolina, Doug and Janice- the Alabama Saints who started the foster home in Zhongshan, and Adrian the Canadian- a loving father of 5, who……I’m still trying to figure out exactly what Adrian does….. Now, I was among them as a ‘crazy’ person. And I couldn’t be happier about it. Even if I have gone mad, I am in good company.

I nervously approached Doug after the service to drop the news. It went something like this:

‘Doug, Can you spare a minute? Well, ummm, I’ve been thinking of ways to help New Day and honor Feng Ming’s life….and, uh….I’ve been thinking about maybe going to work in Beijing to experience the foster home up north.’ Doug listened intently, but I knew his heart was still full of grief, having just finished the service. Mine was too, but my stomach was also full of butterflies. I continued. ‘….and as a means of doing both…..and raising money for the kids ….I’m thinking that I will…um..…..walk…..there…………’. The last two words seemed to hang in the air like the high-pitched ring of a bell. But I wasn’t sure if their sound would resonate with Doug. Then his eyes lit up. Life returned to his face as he raised his eyebrows so high that I thought they might take flight off of his forehead. The people left in the living room were soon in on the discussion. 15 minutes later, Doug and Janice the Saints, Adrian the Canadian, Myra the Preschool Teacher, and I were huddled around a map of China, excitedly talking about possible routes and places I might sleep. This plan was growing wings. My fear turned to excitement as the

plausibility of the plan grew and grew.

Now, it is still growing. I have only clues of where this idea will lead, and how far I will actually go to complete the purpose behind this mission that has been put on my heart. But I do know this feeling- this feeling of passion and purpose. And in my experience, once this feeling occupies my heart, nothing can stop me. Not even me.