Catamarans and Socks

Sometimes, the more that a story is told, the more it can seem to get bigger than life. I guess this is how urban legends take on crazy proportions. But I was there the day it happened. I remember it. And although it has become one of the favorite Hero Holiday stories that are retold and wondered about, I am a witness to the truth.2005 was a year of many beginnings for LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute). We moved from another city to settle our head office from the suburbs to buy a building that was formerly a strip club (!), we hired on new staff that helped to set the direction for the course ahead, and we also decided to take the plunge and start a program called Hero Holiday. Within a short amount of time, Hero Holiday turned our world upside down, opened our eyes, and changed the life course of hundreds, even thousands, of people affected by it. In July of 2005 we started our first official trips with this program, and that summer is forever etched in many of our memories as the summer where life started over.We had just completed our second trip that July. It was the last day before we were going to leave Dominican Republic. It had been impacting, emotional, energizing, frustrating, and had ignited vision in us like nothing before had ever touched. There were about 75 of us there that day. We had a full day lined up for them all, so we gave very specific instructions for what they needed to bring and how to be prepared. We had given the participants some time off to go for a few hours on a catamaran cruise. When they were loading the bus, we reminded them each that they were going to be going to the garbage dump that afternoon, and it was very important that they wear proper footwear. We warned them that without it, they wouldn’t be allowed to join us, as the garbage dump was no place to wear flip flops. I picked up the groceries for 100+ Haitian families we would be bringing them to that afternoon at the garbage dump, and went there ahead of our team to talk with them and see how we could be of more help in the future.They were burning the garbage that day, and it felt like the set for an apocalyptic movie: the stench of burning refuse, the sight of people digging through garbage and desperately pulling out anything that could possibly provide food, shelter, or clothing, and the constant sound of large trucks coming through and dumping more excess from the resorts around the area. I have been around it now for five years, and still I hurt whenever I am around it. I can conjure up the smell simply by thinking of the memories there, and each time it seems just as real as that first time I encountered it.Finally, our bus pulled up with all of our Hero Holiday participants. They were told to come out and help the people as they worked, and some of them started to help me with the groceries, as we prepared to hand them out to the families. We were there for about two hours, and during that brief moment in time we had laughed, cried, played with children, worked alongside those we were humbled to help, and focused on dignity and making the most of the moment. We were beginning to round up everyone, as we had to get the bus back to our other scheduled events before we left for Canada later that night. I was about to turn around and make the last announcement for the bus, and then I saw her.She was one of our participants, she was about 16 years old, she had streams of tears running down her face, and on her feet she only had her socks. I was shocked, and quite honestly, I was more than slightly irritated. How hard is it for people to follow simple insructions? Do they not understand how dangerous it is to walk around like this? I began to march over to her, and then I realized the scope of what was really happening. Behind her, on the other side of the bus, walking slowly as they loaded back on, were over 40 people walking in their socks. With my eyes I saw it, and slowly with my mind I began to comprehend it: this was compassion in action. This was what I had hoped they would be able to grasp as a result of this experience, and when they did, I almost missed it. They had given their shoes away. But not only had they given them away, some of them got down on their knees and fitted them on the tired, dirty, abused feet of their new owners. That day, our students taught us what we had missed.Each of our staff members began to follow their example and all of us left that garbage dump in our sock feet. As we drove away that day, there was one picture I wish I could show the world: as we looked over our shoulder, a large Haitian man with wild hair smiled a toothy grin, waving from the top of a huge pile of garbage. And on his feet? Hot pink Nikes from one of our girls!Since that time, we have learned a few lessons about compassion in action, and because of that story, hundreds and hundreds of people have been inspired to experience it for themselves.  However, we now allow our participants the opportunity to leave their shoes behind – at the Hero Holiday base at the end of the week! This summer, Hero Holiday will return to Dominican Republic in July, and we will be working with some of the people that were there that day. Today, they have become our friends, and together we work with them to build a future for us all.If you would like to make a difference in the life of someone less fortunate than you but will not be participating in a Hero Holiday this year, contact us to find out how you can contribute to ongoing projects. You can contact us at info@livedifferent.com.

Team 1 is full of fun!

My name is Adam,and along with my fiancée Lindsay, I lead one of our road teams. We just joined the LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute) team in January of this year, and we are really excited to be a part of everything. It has been a couple of weeks of steady shows for us… a lot of fun… and a lot of work!Life has changed a lot for Lindsay and myself in the past couple of months. Joining LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute) has been fantastic. We really feel like our jobs/lives have purpose and we are incredibly grateful to be part of this awesome team/family.We have had some time now to get to know our road team co-workers: Rachelle, Jenna Lane, and Jamie. They are great to work with and we are enjoying getting to know them.  Jamie has been extremely helpful in the sound department, and without him we wouldn’t really have much of a show! Rachelle is a veteran at this. She was on tour a few years ago and has been a great addition to our team, and she can do a lot! And, of course, let’s not forget Jenna Lane: this girl takes a lot of pressure off Lindsay and I with her great ability to work a crowd and her dynamic approach at sharing her story.  As well, our current band, Corporate Saturday, has been a great help! They were on tour last semester so they have helped a lot for our transition. Not only do they rock, but they are great guys too!The feedback from the schools has been great and talking with students at each school has made it all worth while. I have met some really cool young people already, and the tour is just getting started!We are about to head out for our first real road trip. Manitoba HERE WE COME!!!!  I hear that the west is nice: the people are warm, even if the climate isn’t! It will be my first time ever visiting Manitoba and I would have to say that that is a pretty cool plus to this job! We still have a few things to take care of before we go but I am sure it will all work out… it always does!Peace,Adam

Shoe Party

Feet come in all shapes and sizes. They can be delicate and attractive, and they can be large and well worn. Feet rarely get the attention they deserve, as they are used by almost every human, every day, taken for granted and abused. Feet have been the inspiration for many poems, images, and for the multi-billion dollar shoe industry throughout the years. Feet are the reason that entire professions exist, why Dr. Scholls will always remain so popular, and why “Crocs” have taken the world by storm. Feet can be ticklish, calloused, or arthritic, and they are the first to get dirty, and the last to get cleaned. Feet are very humble little body parts, and I never thought they would affect my perspective so much.Like many people in the Western World, I am a fan of shoes. Well, maybe a fanatic would be a better description! Shoes in our minds often represent protection, a sports requirement, and ultimately,a necessity.  They are often the coveted fashion accessory, and many a cow, lamb, and alligator have been martyred for the cause. For those of us who can afford the luxury of purchasing shoes, we can see them as a well-deserved treat, a social must-have, or even a status symbol. Rarely are we ever asked to consider the significance of what we wear on our feet, as it honestly never really crosses our minds. (Image shown on right is not Christal’s Closet)It really did not cross mine either, until the day we pulled into one of my favourite villages in Dominican Republic, with a truckload of shoes that we had promised to bring. A simple promise, made possible by the donations of many thoughtful Hero Holiday participants, their friends, and their families, altered our perspective and challenged our limited concepts of equality.We had about 250 pairs of shoes with us. Most of them used, all of them cast offs, deemed unworthy of our closets anymore, as they had fallen out of fashion, or out of favour with their previous owners. Some were donations from stores in Canada that were unable to sell them. As we turned off the truck, I prepared the Hero Holiday participants for what the were about to experience. I warned them that it would get wild, and I reminded them of why we were doing this: because dignity starts with us and in how we choose to treat people where they are at.  And then…the fun began!We quickly organized the shoes into some kind of commonality of size and gender. As we began to allow people on the truck, four at a time, we helped them to size up their feet and see what they could get to fit.There were many different feet that stepped on the flat deck of that truck that day: some were small and already hardened and calloused from packed dirt, hot concrete, and thorny grass. Some were broken and twisted from arthritis. All of them were dirty.and all of them were bare when they came on the truck. This may be the only pair of shoes that they owned, and these shoes were a true gift. These were the feet of people who were stateless and despised, who  worked every day in a garbage dump, who scratched out an existence by going without and fighting for survival. These people had become our friends, and they were the reason we were here.  It was hot, humid, frantic and loud! As I looked across the sea of faces surrounding the flat deck of our truck, I saw familiar faces that I loved and cared about. There were smiles returned, but mostly there was just a lot of frantic calling out of our names, in hopes of getting noticed and not being forgotten for the shoes. Mothers began to hand their babies over the crowd, asking us to take them, and a realization began to dawn on us regarding the importance of what we were doing. Not the self-importance that comes with feeling like you are doing something significant, but the importance of realizing that the simple sharing of these shoes, for some of these faces, represented a simple hope that they were not forgotten – that someone had seen their need and realized they held the means to help alleviate it.One little elderly lady came up to me as we were preparing to leave. She was carrying a new, but well worn pair of leather shoes, and she grabbed my arm and kissed my cheek. As she stepped back, she had tears in her eyes, and she pointed up to the sky and smiled a toothless smile at me. “Thank God that He provides” she said to me in Creole. I smiled and nodded my head. I looked around at the group of Canadian teenagers with me, and took in their smiles; they were smiles of feeling like you were a part of something, no matter how small according the the world’s standards, that somehow had made someone else’s life just a little more bearable. One girl with me came over to where I was standing, and with tears streaming down her face said, “I never dreamed I could be a part of something like this that we did today. This has been one of the most memorable days of my life. I will never see my shoes the same again.”I have to agree. When your life experience alters your perspective,you are never the same. And besides, there is nothing like making a memory in the tropical jungle with 250 of your friends…
This year, our Hero Holiday participants will be returning to Dominican Republic to work with this community. We will be helping them to build a school for their children, and will continue to help them in areas such as clothing items, food supplies, and medical assistance. If you would like to be a part of what we are doing, please consider joining us on a Hero Holiday.

The whirlwind of it all!

I’ve been living in Mexico for just about 2 weeks now, and the entire time it has been a complete whirlwind of awesome experiences. We started it off with a 7 day aid road trip down the Baja. Apparently LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute) hasn’t heard of starting off with the easy stuff, they’re more the “throw ’em in the deep end” type of group. Regardless of if we were ready to go or not though, by the end of it we were all as Nikki would say ” wilderness girls…and boy” and we all had piles of awesome stories to tell. It was an invaluable experience, that we thought would go unequaled…and it might still.

But once we returned home, we were shown that our time here will be spent well and that our every move with be worth something special to someone. We were asked to help out with some crafts classes lead by one of the women that went South with us, Diane, and gladly we agreed. Little did we know how much of a workout crafts can be.

Not 3 days after returning from our road trip, we loaded up in the bus and off to Bonita Garcia we went…craft supplies in hand. Diane got straight to work, once the women had assembled inside their makeshift church, teaching them how to make paper mache animals and some very pretty picture frames…while we stood around trying to figure out how we could help. It seemed there was a few extra English speaking bodies in the room, and all but one of us was able to be of any help to Diane and the other women, so we turned our attention to the kids. Defiantly the right choice.

Us 5 School of Leadership students spent the next 3 or more hours coloring, tickling and running around with the 15 or so kids that were there. I spent my day running after 2 little girls more often than any others, chasing them around our bus but never actually catching them. The rest of the SOL’s gave piggy back rides, played Stella Ella Hola with them, and tried to play some football (American style) with them. It didn’t seem to matter too much what we were doing, as long as we were with them and we were smiling along with them (which frankly, is hard to do when they are having so much fun). Although we could not speak to them, each one of them are in our hearts and each one of them has spent time showing us how important our actions can be. Their little eyes told us each how much those few hours meant to them, to have someone play exclusively with them…to have their own personal jungle gym for a few hours.

So all I can really say now is… I wonder what amazing things next week will bring? (Kristi)

A great introduction!

So we get to Mexico and our first week here we get to travel with a group of 20 people down south on the Baja. We had a very dynamic, diverse group: seven Mexicans, three Americans and nine people from LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute). We were fortunate enough to have a retired nurse from Victoria agree to accompany us a few days before we left. She was an amazing help and at each community we went to she gave a first aid class. I was lucky enough to be able to help her by explaining and demonstrating CPR and choking with a few of the other girls. She taught ways to aid in cuts, impalements, giving birth, nose bleeds, extrication from a car collision and a few other very helpful daily ailments. These are things we overlook because we have been fortunate enough to have taken widely available first aid courses or simply have the advantage of having an ambulance usually fairly close to where we live. However, in rural areas and tiny little towns we also know that it can be awhile for the ambulance to show, and a few hours to the nearest hospital, as it is for many of the Mexican communities we were in. It felt great to be able to benefit the people with some of the knowledge that I have, as well as seeing the rest of our group too . Five of the Mexicans with us also gave courses on agriculture, computers, food preserving and candy making, which, for the most part, all seemed pretty well received. We also brought down a huge load of clothing and shoes to donate to each community and beans, rice and flour to donate to the families we stayed with.

The Baja is beautiful. Such interesting desert landscape; cactus forests, gorgeous beaches, and boulder mountains that always leave you with, how the heck did they get there?! (Which we learned was apparently wind and erosion of mountains…) It was fun to be roughing it for the week, tents for the first little while, then when we got lazy, and realized it was much cooler to just sleep under the stars on the beach. There usually seemed to be a cactus not too far away that could serve as a bano (bathroom) door.  We had lots of time to explore, climb, survey and swim, although I wish there were a few more days of that. One day we got to swim in the Pacific Ocean (a little chilly but I’m tough haha) and a large bunch of seals swam up pretty close to shore. So cool!!

All in all, the trip was pretty amazing; learned a lot, saw a lot, tasted a lot! Some of it delicious, some of it not so much (Menudo soup….. stomach lining of a cow…… mmmmmmm). It was definitely an awesome way to start off our four month experience here in Mexico.  (Tara)

Teaching English

The town was El Barril, a small fishing village on the Sea of Cortes around 5 hours away from any major city or paved road. We had driven on dirt roads through the beautiful mountains and desert of the Baja to get there. With LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute)ly no previous English teaching experience between any of us, Kristi, Nikki, Micah and myself found ourselves teaching English in a small school with about 12 kids including the teacher who joined in the English class as well. It was very interesting because our translator had left and we all know very little Spanish, for them it was more of an English immersion class. We had the class split up into three groups and each of us would go sit down with a group and help them with pronunciation. We started out by teaching them the alphabet which went very well although they had trouble with a few letters and getting their vowels mixed up between Spanish and English. We taught them basic colours which they were very good at even though every time they tried to say yellow it turned out as jello. We also taught them basic conversation and greetings, we had the kids come up to the front of the class and practice greetings with us such as hi, hello, how are you doing, what is your name. It was awesome just getting to know the kids who were all very willing to learn and seemed to be excited that we were there. At the end of the class we handed out small bags with treats and toothbrushes and toothpaste to all the kids, as well as some candy for good measure. I had always wanted to teach English in a foreign country and teaching it in the small village of El Barril was a once in a lifetime experience and one that I will never forget. (Josh)

With the Sound of a Wave

Our first experience of Mexico was taken as a road trip down the Baja Peninsula. It was something even an amnesiac could not forget. it wasn’t as if we brought a child back from the brink of death, or saved an old widow from starvation. Certainly nothing to be put up there with Mother Teresa or Ghandi; it was just experiencing someone else’s life that was life changing in itself. How many people can say they have traveled six hours down a gravel road into a tiny fishing village off the Sea of Cortez? Or danced with friendly laughing Mexicans while waiting for the always late session of first aid to begin? Sharing your breakfast burrito with a hungry stray looking into its eyes and wondering if that was its last meal? We may not have gave a family enough money to never have to labour long hours again, but we did put beans in their pockets, life saving knowledge in their heads, and laughter in a child’s mouth. Was our week long excursion one to be remembered? I know it certainly touched me in a way I will never forget. I will always remember Mexico with the sound of a wave or a smile of a child.  (Teijna)

Starting things off right in Mexico – Tortillas and Beans!

Over this past week a group of 21 of us got the chance to participate in a once in a lifetime experience. After lots of packing, organizing, meeting and snacking we packed up into four vehicles and began a trip to the southern part of the Baja. We were all eager to see what was down there, and not really knowing what to expect was all part of the fun. We had made plans to deliver clothing, beans, rice and flour, and members of our team had plans to run workshops on different things including candy making, green houses and, most importantly, first aid. 

Throughout the course of the week we experienced so many different and equally amazing things it’s difficult to pin point where to start. The things we did ranged from sleeping on the beach under the stars, climbing mountains, seeing and touching a monster of a cactus, learning to make flour tortillas, teaching an English class and playing with kids from a small community. The entire time I just kept thinking to myself about how surreal it was experiencing these things and it felt like we were living on the set of a movie. One comment that we made while we were driving through the desert was that it felt like we were driving through the pages of a Dr. Seuss book. Strange looking trees, plants we had never seen before and large cacti scattered everywhere in funny shapes were all around us as our truck bumped along through the desert. Although we didn’t get to accomplish everything we had planned, I can come away from the trip saying that I still feel like the luckiest girl in the world for getting the chance to see understand everything that we did.

Out of all of these things, one night in El Rosarito stands out to me over the rest. Some of us were privileged enough to spend an afternoon with a local woman as she taught us how to make tortillas. Let me say that we do not give people enough credit for what they do. I had no idea that something as simple as making a meal could be so difficult. There were about six of us watching her make the first few and trying to mimic her technique. It seemed like she was a machine making tortilla after tortilla, all of them perfectly round, even and flat. The ones that we managed to make, however, were the furthest thing from round. We had ones that looked like triangles, blobs and tortillas with gaping holes. No matter how hard we tried it seemed like we would never get it right, and try as we might we were not able to communicate with our host. The most we managed to tell each other was that she was not able to speak English and we laughed in saying that it was alright because we were not able to speak Spanish. All that we could do when we knew that our tortillas were not the right shape was giggle and that seemed that she couldn’t help but do the same. Despite the fact that we couldn’t really communicate, it was great to be in presence of each other. She showed us around her home and we got to learn a little bit about the way that she lives. Looking at her beautiful paintings was another highlight of the day for me, they were so precise and the colours were so vibrant. I am sure that knowing the language would have broken down more barriers but it always amazes me how far a laugh or even a smile can go. I was also amazed by her willingness to welcome strangers into her home and spend time with us and finally share a meal together. Eventually everyone came together for a dinner of some perfect looking and some not so perfect tortillas and beans. It was pretty easy to tell which ones we made, but to be honest it didn’t really matter, they all tasted the same. The last hour of our visit was spent laughing and singing while her son played guitar. I really think that we as Canadians could take a big lesson from Mexican culture and learn to value the time that we have to spend in the company of people we care about over the value of time found in a business, work day. Our visit came to an end because it was time for us to pack up and move on to another town. In parting we smiled, hugged and she gave us kisses on the cheek. While I was walking away, I glanced back one more time, smiled again and we exchanged a knowing look, it just didn’t feel like quite enough to thank her for everything she shared with us and all that we can learn from her.  (Nikki)

Two out of Three

You know the feeling: the alarm goes off, you fumble through a few snooze button moments, and then you finally haul your carcass out of the bed and across the room. On the way, perhaps you step on the cat by accident – or clothes that you panicked were the cat – and brace yourself as you do that which 10 minutes ago was unthinkable: you turn on the bathroom light. It sears your little eyeballs and for a moment you feel like a gremlin when you see the light. Then, the moment you have been praying for happens: you turn the knobs in the shower and the angels sing as the beautiful, hot, clean water comes gushing out, promising you that today you can take on the world.In Baja, California, Mexico, our Hero Holiday staff lives and works among the poor. The population is often internal migrant workers who come up from Oaxaca state to work as day laborers in the strawberry and tomato fields with their families. They soon become statistics of lack of proper nutrition and sanitation, as they work for offensively small amounts of money. Some of them eventually make enough money to return home, but the majority of them are soon stranded between starvation and exposure to the elements, and desperately praying for another day of work. Life in the Baja is quite harsh: the desert is relentless, as the days can seem to burn up with sun and wind, and the nights are often cold enough to require a jacket. Water is scarce here, but not for the most obvious reason you would think. Due to low water tables, the Mexican government will only allow so many wells to be dug, and because the large plantations need so much irrigation, they are given priority, and the other few wells are left to those who can afford to pay the high cost of getting the permit. Needless to say, the migrant workers are not of those who can do so. For them, water isn’t even within walking distance – you have to pay for almost every drop you get. When life is this harsh, you have to stay focused on what is important to you.
As we drove out that day with the Hero Holiday staff, this truth became a glaring reality.One of the families we were preparing to build a house for is a single mom with 6 kids. We pulled up to their current home, which consists of boxes from the strawberry fields and rolled out tin cans, and were chatting with her about the plans for the house. As I stood under the roof that she probably constructed with her own calloused, tired hands, I looked around and tried to memorize what I saw: beds that sagged in the middle and were filthy beyond recognition, covered with threadbare blankets that you wouldn’t even allow your dog to sleep on at home. I looked up and could see the sky through the roof and feel the wind move my hair through the wall- the cold, biting wind of a Baja winter. I looked down where I was standing and realized that my feet had sunk into mud: the mud that was actually the floor where the rest of their family walked on barefoot…and I thought that a hot shower was my ‘right’? How could I even explain the concept of a hot shower to these people? They don’t even have access to any clean water except that which they buy from a truck when they can spare the money.I have to be honest here: I didn’t even want to look her in the eye. I felt like my cheeks were hot as I remembered my own hot shower earlier that day. A shower that she might never, in her life, have ever considered was possible. After hearing her story of what her life is like, after seeing it with my own eyes, and smelling it with my own senses, I wanted to somehow honor her and communicate to her my deep respect and admiration. On impulse, I reached out and kissed her cheek. It was weathered, but beautiful. There was a quiet dignity that rested there. This was a woman who I was humbled to be under her roof, and this was a woman who I wanted to see have a much better roof over her head, with clean and warm beds for her family, and the ability to grow and prosper amidst such disappointment and heartache.As you read this, two thirds of the world is without access to clean water. Two out of three. 66.67%. Why is there so much disparity in our world? We can spend our whole lives just trying to be safe and avoiding any discomfort, and in the end, perhaps all we have really succeeded in doing is alienating ourselves from what we could truly accomplish if we were willing to try. My experience with working with the poor has given me a lifetime of education, and ever since I have first encountered poverty, I have always been struck by the smell. It is hard to describe the smell of a busy, dirty alley in a slum, or a home that has no access to clean water, or the smell of damp, rotten earth for a living room floor.  It is a smell that exists because there are no resources to wash it away. It is at once repulsive and compelling, and it begs to be noticed. Without simple, clean water, it would seem that it cannot change, but yet, we must do something to bring about that change. How much could be possible if we all decided that we could do our part?”Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world.  Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”~Margaret Mead
Hero Holiday, a humanitarian program of LiveDifferent (formerly Absolute), runs trips to Mexico throughout the year. We work and partner with a community in Baja, California, because we believe that together, we are stronger, and together we can change the future.  We have built over 55 houses in that area, and most of those were built by Canadian teenagers and adult groups who saw a need and realized they could become part of the answer. We build these houses because we believe in the fundamental right of every person to have safety and security, and we also have realized that by providing adequate housing, we are helping to alleviate some of the pressure on those families for their survival. In 2009, we are hoping to build even more homes, as well as to continue to work with the women’s cooperatives and pre-schools that we are helping to get off the ground. Please consider partnering with us to make a difference in the lives of more families in Baja, Mexico.

The snow is gone and it is now 25 degrees out!

The School of Leadership Students have arrived safely in Mexico!  After traveling for approximately twenty-two hours, the vehicles finally pulled down the little dirt road towards the ‘new home’.  Friday we had a brief orientation, checked out the local candy store, spend some time on the beach, and hit up the best taco stand in town!  Saturday was a day off to relax, unpack and unwind.Today (Sunday) was “Race Day”.  The Hero Holiday fleet (3 vehicles) were the fortunate ones to start the race off at the beginning of the line up!  This race (Poker Rally) was a fundraiser for a lady who had an accident and needs back surgery.  The pathfinder came is 2nd over all!