Thursday, January 3, 2013

All My Single Ladies

In one hour, I am leaving for a ski trip with 8 friends…4 couples. I round the number to 9. That’s right, I’m the 9th wheel. My friends and I wanted to do something different this year for New Year’s Eve. A 5-day ski trip up to Mt. Snow, Vermont sounded just right.
 
I am 32-years old and single. Since I have been in New York, I have been on a marathon of dates. I used to call myself the Chronic Dater.
 
I have been to multiple weddings, from Orthodox to Hindu. Truly the full gamut of weddings, from castles to outdoor tents, from 1,000 guests to more intimate ones, traditional and progressive ones. I have served many roles, from being the maid of honor to someone’s +1.
 
I can’t tell you the number of brunches, dinners, or wine tastings I’ve been to where my girlfriends go on and on, trying to understand the enigma of dating and men. “When should I text him back?” “I offered to pay half and he accepted. What does that mean?”
 
I have girlfriends that exchange articles and titles of self-help books they recommend, who put cryptic statements on social media tools about men they’re dating, who cry their eyes dry watching hopeless romantic films, I’ve listened to them as they unload their frustrations, and they certainly have been there for me, ”but, he said he loved me..” I have songs that were put on repeat that I felt were exclusively speaking to me.
 
My point is I’ve been there. I am there. But as we ring in the New Year, will you join me as I own my singleness and carry on?
 
With a habesha family, it’s very easy to do something wrong. For example, are you slouching right now? It’s so easy, really, to shift a little from their pearl tracks.
 
If I ever forget that I’m single, my grandmother is sure to remind me, which means no prospects to help me bear her grandchildren. And to say my parents are concerned is an understatement. According to my parents, I am too picky. I blame them, really. I grew up with parents that have shown me the definition of true, unconditional love. I expect a man to treat me the way my mother is treated by my father. I’m not settling for less.
 
What I’ve learned is pressuring yourself doesn’t do any good for anyone. Golden nugget: Don’t allow your parents to interfere in your love life. You are capable of choosing who you want to invest your time with. Your other option, which I don’t advise, is to please everyone else but yourself.
 
Be at peace with being single. Let that sink in. I don’t think those that are in a relationship are nearly as obsessed with their current relationship status as you are about yours. Be comfortable with some uncertainty and mystery in your life.
 
This is the time of year where people conduct self-assessments and change, improve, or challenge aspects of themselves. This year, I challenge you to a new resolution. I challenge you to just be yourself and love every ounce of it.
 
Be your own Santa and be good to yourself. Press the reset button on how you see singlehood. It’s an amazing feeling. Change your perspective. Enjoy it. You’re single, and…and what else? What else are you made up of?
 
I can’t tell you how many phenomenal habesha women and men I have as family members and friends. We are some driven people.
 
If you look at your life goals and priorities, do you really have time to sulk or wait around for Mr. Right? And remember, being single and loved is better than being taken and empty. Continue bettering yourself and be the best you can be. You cannot withdraw the love you deserve without depositing more potential. You have a purpose in this world, a passion, a dream to be fulfilled. You cannot make a man love you, and even if you could, would you? Focus on your dreams, your greatness, your success. You have control over your own life.
 
I don’t want you to just read this. I want you to believe it. You have to truly believe that you deserve greatness, and that becoming a Chronic Dater, like I was, is a distraction.
 
This coming year, I ask you to start your own habesha recipe book, become authors, record that first album, train for that marathon, save for your dream home, travel the world, graduate, sell that invention, visit your family back home, become an entrepreneur, do what others fear in doing, network with purpose, apply for a better job, spoil yourself, love yourself, become a leader in your community, speak up more, start that non-profit, succeed, blossom and be full of health for Y2013. This is my ask of you. And if you have time, go on a few ski trips.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

The Journey

“Success is a journey, not a destination. The doing is often more important than the outcome.” - Arthur Robert Ashe, Jr.

20 hours and 5 in-flight movies later, I finally arrived in Nairobi, Kenya.  I stood at the baggage claim, praying that my checked-in duffle bag would roll down the conveyor belt, as my experience has taught me that this is not a guarantee when it comes to international flights.  As I stood there, I saw a tall man donned with brand new hiking boots and an overstuffed backpack, and my intuition told me we were here for the same reason.  I turned around and asked if he had plans on climbing a mountain.  His eyes lit up and I immediately knew my intuition had served me well.  He too was a member of the 2011 Accenture-Voluntary Service Overseas Mount Kilimanjaro Corporate Challenge, and had been on my final connecting flight.

As we sat in a cab from the airport to the hotel, I tried to balance my attention between my new friend and the view from the window.  It was almost as if I had an internal chant in my head…

We are in Nairobi, Kenya.  Nairobi…Kenya.  To climb Mount Kilimanjaro.  Mount…Kilimanjaro.  We are here.  I am here.  This is happening.

Day 1 primarily consisted of getting checked into the hotel and having dinner with the trek group.  As we got to know each other, it was clear that we were quite a diverse bunch, as we represented different cities from around the world, spoke different languages, fell in different age brackets, and held different positions within the firm.  Even with all these variances, I felt a sense of harmony around the table, of compassion, competitiveness, and excitement.

The morning of day 2, we regrouped and headed out to visit one of the projects, the Kenya Association of the Intellectually Handicapped (http://kaihid.org/) that benefited from the Mount Kilimanjaro Corporate Challenge trek.  We spent the day understanding the goals of the organization and had the opportunity to get to know some of the volunteers and beneficiaries.  The day reinforced the reasons why we were there and brought the real goal home.

Day 3, we crossed countries from Nairobi, Kenya to Marangu, Tanzania.  Between mini-naps, I noticed that the 10-hour drive exposed us to attractive forestry and plains.  We mentally prepared ourselves for the next morning where we planned to embark on our trek, beginning at the Rongai National Park gate.

Day 4 – 8, we saw both extremes of vegetation, from beautiful, lush rainforests to dry, barren desert land.  Days would begin with warm temperatures that required only t-shirts, shorts, and layers of sunscreen and would end with brutally cold nights that required at least 4 wool layers of clothes to survive in our frost coated tents.  We were left with only the most meager of resources, where the luxury of a warm shower was only a dream and nourishment was only enough to sustain us for our grueling journey.

Day 9 was the day that we would finally achieve our goal of reaching the Summit, which would have to be earned in one of the most exhausting physical and mental challenges that I have ever faced.  We left camp at 12-midnight to commence the trek up the steep scree slopes to Gillman’s Point, continuing around the rim, passed Stella Point and onto the highest point of Africa - Uhuru Point.  We experienced a snow-ice-rain storm that continued on for 36-hours.  We climbed for 8-hours in -10C degree weather and heavy snow, and quickly learned that the only way to get through it was to keep our heads down and let the light from our head torch guide the way.  Summit night included nausea, darkness, extreme cold, and a throbbing headache due to the altitude.  We focused on matching the stride of our leg to the swing of our arm with our walking pole.  All of us were pressed to our limits, and in spite of their valiant efforts, we succumbed to mountain sickness, exhaustion, and some of the many perils of our journey.  Nevertheless, the majority of us were able to reach the Summit of Kilimanjaro with the help of supportive guides and amazing porters, most of whom climbed the mountain at least 10 times.  Ridiculous.

There were 25 of us that were part of the Corporate Challenge, many of whom met their threshold on that mountain.  6 of the 25 capitulated before reaching Uhuru Point due to exhaustion or altitude sickness.  I never heard and saw so many people regurgitate.  Throughout our climb, we took 2-minute breaks to fuel our bodies with protein bars and water droplets from our frozen bottles.

As I reflect back on how I was able to reach the summit of 5,895m, I have come up with 4 reasons: 

1. Charity:  I kept thinking of the volunteers and beneficiaries that we met our first full day in Nairobi
2. Friends/Family:  The generous fundraising supporters
3. Trek Group:  We looked out for each other on that mountain
4.  Personal drive:  There is no way I flew all this way, and for the last 5-consecutive days, slept on rocky slopes and stuffed myself with porridge and energy bars without reaching the top.
We spent only 15-minutes at Uhuru Peak.  We stood on the roof of Africa, and took pictures, tried to hug each other over down jackets, and just breathed – with the little oxygen that we could!  Although everyone’s hair and clothes were weighed down with ice, and our muscles screamed at us, we all felt so alive!  We were infected with excitement and a sense of achievement.  We made it.  Shortly after, we started our descent at record speed, where we were able to literally ski down the loose volcanic scree trail.  The day was a total of 11-hours of trekking. 

Day 10, we set off early to trek to Marangu Gate.  It was a mixture of happiness and relief that got our exhausted bodies moving forward for our last walk.  After 5-hours of trekking, we reached the gates at Marangu, where our bus waited to take us to the hotel for a well-appreciated shower and celebratory dinner.

Day 11, we were on a bus for 10-hours, returning to Nairobi.  We spent the day recounting what we had seen and how we felt.  We looked at each other’s pictures and agreed that the entire trek was lined with panoramic views that we did our best to capture on memory cards.  As trying as the adventure was, we all felt a sense of connection to the mountain, to each other, and to the charity.  I remember the drive back being very peaceful.

It was a rewarding experience that will never be forgotten.  This epic journey reminded me that life is a marathon, not a sprint.  And, I could not have asked for a better group of people to share this journey with.  As a group, we raised almost $150K and still counting!  This certainly could not have been done without the thoughtfulness and generosity of so many friends and family members.  

I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to climb the world’s largest free standing mountain with such amazing people in support of an incredible charity.  It still feels surreal.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Yoga and a Mountain

I laid there in a center of gravity, being pressed against the mat getting ready to do the bhujangasana position.  I neglected Bikram Yoga for months now, putting my move to a new ‘hood in New York, work, travel, my social life, and everything in-between before finding my center.  It was to the point where I gradually evolved into a tight ball of tension.  I knew Bikram Yoga would help me quiet the running checklist that consumed my mind, so on a Sunday morning, I combed through apps on my phone, looking for deals and discounts for nearby yoga studios.  A few minutes later, and no discount in site within a 1.0 mile radius, I shrugged off my economical pursuits, and went to a popular, and unapologetically pricey, studio I was familiar with nearby. 
One hour into our class, I found myself parallel to the ground, with my heart pounding outside of my chest, vibrating the yoga mat.  Each pose had tested my body’s elasticity, and it was long overdue.  As I laid there, ready for the bhujangasana, my heartbeat rhythmically rippled up to my ear, releasing new energy into my body.  It was invigorating and instead of “sweating the small stuff” in that sauna-like studio, my mind was starting to clear up.  It surfaced and drifted out of the studio, and traveled to one of the tallest mountains in the world.  I pictured myself where I will be in two-weeks.  Mount Kilimanjaro.  I envisioned myself on Summit Day, arms around dusty shoulders, where there would be a group shot around the famous wooden sign placed at the roof of Africa.  We would protrude cheesy smiles against the layers of dirt that caked our face, while we waited for the photo shots to be taken.
I want to freeze this experience into photos for two reasons:
The first one is to remember to continue to do something that matters.  Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro is a challenge that I am doing for charity.  This fundraising experience will allow me to think of someone outside of myself and my needs.  Several colleagues, friends, family members, and random acquaintances have been generous enough to donate to the cause, of which I am extremely grateful for.  Our donations will support Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO), which is an international development organization that is committed to helping the poorest regions of the world address issues spanning:  HIV and AIDS, disability, participation and governance, secure livelihoods, education, health and well-being.  I will have the opportunity to visit one such project and witness first-hand how VSO makes a difference in the fight against poverty.   
Secondly, those photos will help me remember the inner initiative that got me there.  Less talk and more do.  In the past, I flirted with the idea of facing my fears, only to quickly recoil into my comfortable shell of complacency.  This challenge has sparked an inner drive that would have typically been suffocated by routine and self-doubt.  I am taking ownership of my life and want to take you along the journey.
As we moved on to our next pose, the yoga instructor said to give ourselves credit that we showed up today.  Instead of carrying the idea of facing Bikram Yoga, we actually showed up and stared the challenge right in its sweaty face.  She spoke to a packed studio of people that stretched and exhaled in unison.  And although we all have our own lives and our own fears, it was inevitable that there was a sense of connection in that studio.
As I speak up and share my thoughts and experiences on my journey to Mount Kilimanjaro (and back!), I wish that it encourages you to remember that we are all in this together, that we must help one another, and to continue strengthening  your own spine.
Shigei Gebremedhin is an American-born woman of Eritrean descent.  She currently resides in New York City, working as a business consultant.  She holds an MBA and BA from Michigan State University.