My Skateistan Journey

     The side walks where muddy, and the wide dirt streets where bombarded with enormous mountains of trash. My heart skipped a beat when our big van speeded by a child with no leg begging on a pile of garbage. “How could I stay here?”, I asked myself. The images in my mind shuffled, and my head pounded. Within a second I had convinced myself, “I need to help these children... I already feel connected to them!” I whispered quietly; hoping no one else in the van would hear me. It was December 19, 2012. I was on my first journey to help the children of Kabul, Afghanistan. At that moment I felt every child in Kabul had reached out and made me feel welcome, heart to heart. When the van slowed and the squeaky gates peeled open, like a grumpy, old dog refusing to move from his sunny spot in the road, I was excited, ready, and prepared. I wanted to see children, tell them stories, talk to them, make their day better, and most of all teach them how to skate!

     A keeper of the house showed me to the room when we arrived. My bed was a wooden box and my mattress was stuffed with paper, but at that moment, I did not care! The point I wanted to get across to my mind was, it’s all about helping the kids.  That was all that mattered! My bedroom was on the top floor. A broken window was the only thing that gave me view to the dreadful city, and my ratted sheets were the only things that gave me comfort. “I am lucky, I am lucky, I am lucky!” I kept repeating this over and over in my head while climbing into my bed. I felt the uncomforting warmth of scratchy tape holding to the planks of wood stacked on top of each other. My tossing and turning made my bed screech every time I moved. Loud screams came from outside that made my night unbearable. I just felt so bad about everything that was happening, and I was in a complaining mood. After restless hours of lying in bed, I decided to put my frustration aside, and I finally fell asleep.  

     While trying to sleep off my hard night, the sun awakened me by seeping through the window, and blasting my face with light. My eyes opened and I immediately sat up and got dressed. “Today is the day!” I screamed with excitement. All my troubles were set aside, the sadness, the regret, and the helplessness! It was completely replaced with energy and butterflies. The day I would meet 50 orphaned children and teach them how to skate board, would be a day never to forget. Running downstairs, with pure delight I saw a bowl of Mantoo. It was an egg dumpling with lamb and beans. It tasted heavenly and I felt so good after finishing the whole bowl. I rushed out the door forgetting all my belongings and my shawl that I quickly wrapped around my head and ran for joy towards the vans parked outside. Once Our Skateistan crew all packed- 50 skateboards in a van. Tom our film executive started driving them over to the orphanage. We followed on skateboards of our own, all excited to see everyone’s happy and excited faces! Arriving at the old, crumbly brick building, we were surrounded by eager kids. All of a sudden tears welled up in my eyes. The world slowed down for a minute, and I felt as if there was a big black hole in my stomach. Everyone’s clothes were tattered or missing. A little boy had no arms; a girl had lost an eye. My heart felt like it crashed into a big pit of nothing. It was black. My entire world was black.

     My emotions towards the children’s condition were brutal. I couldn’t wait to administer de-worming medication for the children. I was so anxious, but I still managed to teach and interact with the kids. During the day I met a girl named Nagine. She told me stories about her family, and how her parents were diagnosed with HIV. A sad cloud formed in my stomach and head. We exchanged looks and she hopped onto the back end of the board. She fidgeted while I scooted her slowly down the cracked pavement. It was as if she read my mind, and changed my focus to something enjoyable.

I felt so useful during my time at the orphanage. Every child had something to say. It was amazing, and heart felt to hear their stories. I was also very impressed with everyone’s skating skills, and I wish we had stayed there all day. The sun was setting and the children were ready to go to sleep. We all said our goodbyes and slowly walked out of the lot. I felt we really accomplished something today. I am a sucker for smiles, and today I got fifty bright smiles on fifty bright faces! We skated out of the dusty parking lot; I could feel the wind in my hair and chills running down my back. I tumbled through garbage and old empty cans, dodging every street sign, making sure I didn’t fall thought I felt unbalanced. We finally reached the squeaky old gate, and my mouth was dry, ready for water and some sleep on my uncomfortable bed. I looked up, seeing the stars’ luster in the sky, and the moon’s twinkle with sleek white. Taking a moment of silence and time to think, I decided to pray. Whispering timidly I said, “I pray for all those children at the orphanage for whose life was cut short. I pray for Nagine and her health. May she be well and not suffer through a sickness as her Parents did.” On that note my head plopped down onto my thick hard bed. That night I would sleep on my prayers.