Funding big change We knew our climb up Mt. Kilimanjaro would be tough, but we were fueled by the knowledge we were doing it for a good cause. Now, since fostering friendships with the locals, our passion for and dedication to raising money for the NRECA International Foundation’s rural electrification efforts in developing countries has only doubled. On the six-hour, unpaved drive back to the airport, we rode through the rural villages of Arusha, passing “houses” so dilapidated I had trouble believing families could find shelter from the elements there, let alone know what electricity was or how it could change their lives. NRECA reports that only 10 percent of rural Africa’s population has access to electricity. Smack-dab in the middle of nowhere, dust upon dust and miles from any practical buildings, thin children in rainbowcolored clothing ran out to smile, hoot, and wave at us, nearly splitting my heart in two. Thanks to generous donors across the country, I’m grateful to say we’ve raised about $36,800 for rural electrification. We surpassed our original goal by nearly $7,000, but we’re not ready to call it quits. We want to hit the $40,000 benchmark. There are people in the dark all around the globe, and every donation counts. Climbing Kilimanjaro was thrilling, but the best part is yet to come: the improved standard of living that results when electric poles are set and power lines are strung in impoverished villages before wide-eyed children and grateful parents. I started this trip knowing I wanted to raise money to help Africans. But now I’ve returned knowing whose lives I want to electrify — and that makes all the difference. To make a donation, learn more about the NRECA International Foundation and its work, or see more photos from the family’ trip, visit their blog at www.RhodestoKili.com.
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iron stretchers after their quads give out, no longer able to hold their own body weight. I’d never hiked downhill for that many hours straight, and knowing now what each step does to your knees, shins, and calves, you couldn’t pay me to do it again. Toes crunched into the front of your boots is not a pleasant feeling; my dad and Tami actually each ended up losing their big toenails as a result.
The unexpected takeaways
It was during this tedious descent that my mind began to whirl. We had successfully reached the summit…but was it all really over, just like that? After all this time, the climax, the thing we had been working toward, was over in less than 20 minutes. Ironically, my camera’s photos told a different story. The long-awaited summit photo — you know, the one that fuels your decision to buy the plane ticket in the first place — had turned out pretty lackluster with poor lighting. Meanwhile, dozens of gorgeous landscape shots over the seven-day uphill trek were what struck a chord in me. I was preoccupied with making a trophy memory out of the summit, but what I didn’t realize was that each day’s photos were key memory bricks I had laid in time that together could be used to build an honest, more life-changing house of experience. Yes, everyone knows the adage: The destination isn’t as important as the journey itself. The same was true of my Kilimanjaro adventure. Unexpectedly, the local people — especially the porters — were some of the kindest, most inspiring people
I’ve ever met. Aside from being the key physical factor in our Kili success, the porters were also our cheerleaders, always passing our panting, weary team line with a “hakuna matata” — meaning “no worries” in Swahili — and an encouraging smile or singalong song. Nearly every morning, three porters, including Little Man, would knock on my tent door, too enthusiastically wish me a good morning, and serve hot coffee with milk and sugar. Insistent on helping and saving your energy, they refused to let me even strap on my own ankle gaiters. I was at the complete mercy of these third world strangers for all of my needs, and watching them conquer the trail twice as quickly bearing five times as much weight in scanty hiking garb, flimsy jackets, and torn-out tennis shoes — all while focusing on getting me, a helpless tourist, to the top and down safely — was a slap-inthe-face dose of humility. They were living examples that there’s no reason not to take the best possible attitude in any given situation, even when you aren’t sure of the outcome. To read more or see additional photos, visit www.RhodestoKili.com.
SAMANTHA RHODES is Country Living’s associate editor.
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• NOV EMBER 2016 10/19/16 3:09 PM