Before I traveled to Africa, I did get some comments from my nearest and dearest wondering “how” I planned to keep my borderline OCD under control under “those conditions.” There were also gentle queries regarding my “hypochondria.”

Now, both the OCD and hypochondria are NOT self-diagnosed (which seems, by definition, to negate both of those as true afflictions for me, no?).

These presumed conditions are attributed to me by people who love me, but who are also subject to my strong…

well…

let’s just call it my “quick willingness to lead” and my “generosity with my opinions” and leave it at that.

A couple weeks down and so far so good. Doing well. No issues at all!

In fact, recently we met with a lovely woman from Colorado, who has spent almost ten years traveling to Uganda for months at a time to serve widows and orphans. She is amazing and having lunch with her was an enjoyable diversion on one of our “office days.”

She shared that she’d just come off a tough few weeks. She’d been suffering a staph infection and had to have a huge boil on her face lanced. There were a couple other minor afflictions and her attitude was so blasé, I don’t even remember the details.

I instantly became hyper-focused, though, when she casually uttered the the words,
“.. .and then I got these toe worms.”

You can’t be serious! I almost dropped my fork. I’m certain my mouth was agape. Toe? Worms? And she just kept calmly eating her salad.

I’m not sure whether I recovered quickly enough to keep her from seeing my look of horror, but it wouldn’t matter, because suddenly ALL I wanted to talk about were her toe worms:
How did she know she had them?
How did she get them?
How did she get rid of them?
How, again, did she know whether she had them?
How, again, did she get them?
What are the symptoms again?

I soon had to excuse myself to go pour rubbing alcohol over my own feet and change from my flip-flops into my boots. Over the weeks, I’d become a little careless about the whole boot thing. Despite dire advance warnings from our travel angel and my last-minute decision to bring only the pyrethin-treated boots and leave my field sandals at home, I’d started wearing flip flops.

I’d worn flip flops around Kenya, only putting on my boots when were going into the “real” field. I hadn’t thought twice about walking – in my flip flops – more than a mile along a partly muddy, partly dusty road to get back from dinner one night after a couple glasses of wine.

Now, I was certain that I had somehow contracted these toe worms and it was just a matter of time before they reared their ugly sub-toenail, sub-dermal black-and-white heads. (Oh…I wasn’t kidding about my information-gathering/interrogation. I have ALLLLL the details.)

Just knowing I most definitely already had them, soon I’d be forced, like our stoic and adorable friend, to perform toe surgery on myself with a safety pin and some rubbing alcohol.

Unfortunately, in a fit of generosity, I’d donated my one remaining unopened bottle of isopropyl alcohol to her earlier in the meal. I didn’t think it would be very humanitarian of me to request it back, especially considering how brave she was about her own bout with the wriggly little parasites.

Her companion, who admitted to taking a near-perverse pleasure in removing worms from other people’s toes, expressed his disappointment that she hadn’t saved the worms for him to help her.

That’s when he dropped the bombshell: people get those worms even when they wear shoes! Your toes don’t have to be exposed for you to get the toe worms!! (!!!)

Now I was beside myself.

They reassured me that it took her many years of frequent visits and a lot of time living in villages to finally catch them herself, but that hasn’t stopped me from bringing up toe worms several times daily since. I’m sure Jack has tired of the topic by now.

And, of course, I wear my boots everywhere, even though they apparently do not provide the 100% protection I’d anticipated. Nightly I douse my poor toes in the remaining drops of alcohol, even though I know that’s not gonna to kill ‘em if I’ve got ‘em.

Surprisingly, I’ve only had one dream about those toe invaders since. It happened last night. When I awoke, my right big toenail was aching and in my half-awake state I was certain it was a sign of infestation.

Though she hadn’t mentioned pain as a symptom, that made no difference in the wee hours, with my foot propped up on the bathroom sink for inspection with a flashlight held between my cheek and shoulder. The examination revealed nothing wrong with my toe, but resulted in more alcohol dousing.

You know, for good measure.

This is one of a collection of unpublished posts from my first trip to Africa last summer. If you’re wondering why I’m in Uganda for the second time since July, please visit the blog at raincatcher.org to learn what we hope to accomplish. If you’d like to help save lives, please visit www.stayclassy.org/fundraise?fcid=124794 to donate today.

This is a Randy Gage video from almost two years ago that literally changed my life and was a major factor in the release of a personal prosperity block.

This weekend, while attending a seminar the issue of tithing came up and I found myself passionately (almost embarrassingly passionately…) making the case for a strict interpretation of tithing. Not so strict that to “tithe” you must give your money to your church, but really strict on it being 10% of your income, right off the top, before you even “pay yourself first.”

I’m curious, though. Outside of my circle of churchy friends, do the people I know tithe? (And, for that matter, do my churchy friends even tithe?)

And, I wonder what others have experienced when starting to tithe. My results have been unmistakable and I have a ton of stories that I can share some other time; right now I want to hear from you.

What do you think about this concept?

What has been your experience with it, in practice?

With the children, at the Kirinda schools training & distribution in Uganda.

Look at these pictures. Really look at them. I’m angelic, aren’t I? I appear positively saintly.

The digital camera is a source of endless amusement to the kids.

I know how it looks. There I am, appearing to minister to the needy, surrounded by darling, photogenic children dressed in glorious African color, all clamoring to have their pictures taken, hoping to be included in a silly game we’re playing, interested in talking to and touching the mizungu.

You’re really impressed, aren’t you?

At every school, you're asked to sign their guest book.

They were adorable, these precious, witty, silly children. Most of them didn’t speak any English, but that didn’t stop them from playfully mimicking me and mocking me. We communicated with a combination of my useless English, body language, hand signals, mime and smiles.

We laughed a lot. We repeated phrases that cracked them up. I was in heaven. It was so much fun.

This was the day we rode almost four hours each way with Sylvia to bring clean water to the schools surrounding her village. The yard was filled with some of the most well-behaved and obedient kids I’d ever seen.  They sat so patiently, even as we drove up to the school in full view and spilled out of the car with all our gear and cameras.

The Kirinda-area pupils sat quietly & paid attention to their teachers even as we walked around taking pictures.

When we conduct a training and distribution at a school, the whole event is more than a little disruptive. The pupils can’t help but be curious. Yet, there they sat quietly, under the enormous tree, responding only when addressed directly by Sylvia or their teachers.

Then, they were released to play with the soccer balls we’d brought. At last, we got to have our up-close and personal encounters and enjoy the sounds of their play and their laughter.

Martha Teresa

Marthalina Jolie

Princess Marthana

We’ve had a lot fun with all of it in the days since. I was committed to behaving appropriately and avoiding making anyone more uncomfortable than necessary, 5’ 8” laughing, loud, inquisitive blonde that I am.

I’d only been in the country for 48 hours, so I was looking to others for cues about when I was permitted to wear pants, when I needed to switch to a dress, when I should (try to) be quiet, when it isn’t proper to ask a lot of questions, and when I should cover my head.

Officially, Uganda is a Muslim country, though you’d be hard-pressed to believe it, with all the Christians milling about and all the churches and outreach missions. With that in mind, I was prepared to wear my scarf when necessary.

The other reason to wear a scarf, besides modesty and respect, is to keep the diesel fumes or red clay from choking you or getting embedded in your hair. So, with the last part of the journey mostly on dusty, bumpy roads with the car windows open, all three of us had our scarves up as we pulled into the school.

Road trip!

Before we climbed out of the car, I consulted Sylvia on whether I needed to keep it on. She affirmed that I should, so I did.

It was HOT. Sweat was dripping down my neck and I soon noticed that Sylvia and Noeline were no longer wearing their scarves. There was no way I was going to second-guess her or give the impression that I objected to the convention, so I kept it on, even as it got hotter and I lost control of how it was arranged on my head. (Note: Kids around the world apparently like to yank on scarves to be funny. It is universally amusing.)

Keep that scarf on!

Hours later, as we ate dinner back in Entebbe, Sylvia said something surprising that made me turn to her and ask (nervously) why it had been necessary for me to wear the scarf when only one of the other women there had her head covered.

A visit with Sylvia's family.

Was it because of the one Muslim school that was there?

Was it because I was blonde?

Was it because I was a mizungu?

Sylvia’s answer makes these pictures even funnier. Keep reading and then, I implore you, check the photos out again. If this makes you laugh even half as hard as we have, it makes all the sweat and delayed embarrassment worth it.

Sylvia said, “You asked me if you could take your scarf off and I said you could. I wasn’t sure why you kept it on, but I wasn’t going to say anything to you if that’s what you wanted.”

If you’re wondering, “What the heck is crazy Martha doing in Africa?” please visit the Raincatcher blog to learn why we’re here and what we hope to accomplish. If you’d like to help us save lives, please visit my donation page. Clean-water systems delivered through RainCatcher save a life for just $1. How many lives would you like to save today?

We had a lot of time to talk there in the back seat. Sylvia and Noelene were great travel companions.

What follows is probably my favorite travel tip so far. The amazing Sylvia wrote me this note during our long drive to Karinda. Most of the children had never seen a white person before. Not even on TV. The place is REMOTE.

"Do not be surprised when children call you MUZUNGU."

Sylvia knew it was my first trip to Africa and that I’d landed on the continent less than 48 hours prior, so she wisely decided I needed to be prepared. Perhaps she was concerned that I might be offended or maybe just confused.

Armed with the word, I would have merely been amused, but these children never even WHISPERED it.

We’ve been called muzungu a few times now, though only in Kenya. Mostly by older kids. Often in a surprised tone as we drive past.

“Muzungu!” they shout and point as we speed by on the roads.

Face-to-face, though, it’s rare for someone to call us muzungu directly, as if it’s our name, as Sylvia had predicted. It happened in Kenya a couple times, preceding some kind of order, “Muzungu! Give me that ball” or “Muzungu! Take my picture.”

Sylvia told us that she knew a missionary who’d had a t-shirt made. It said, “My name’s not Muzungu.”  In fact, a Google search pulled up this blog post written recently by someone who posted a picture of that t-shirt and wrote a really thoughtful post on the role/image/fallacies of the muzungu in Uganda. I enjoyed it so I wanted to link to it for you here: My name is not mzungu

I’d love for you to also visit the Raincatcher site and read the post about Sylvia. She is an incredible woman. I’m waiting to hear if she had her baby this weekend, just a couple days after we took that long drive.

Things you may realize in your first few days in Africa:

• A commitment to dressing modestly out of respect for the truly lovely people you’re working with means that you’re going to end up with a really distinct farmer tan. There is no opportunity to rectify it naturally and self-tanner isn’t available in local stores, so you just need to accept it.

• No matter what you think is enough, pack MORE chocolate! Several very large “gourmet” chocolate bars not only won’t last you for a whole three-week trip, they’ll barely carry you through 20+ hours of flying time. It doesn’t matter how slowly you savor them and indulge carefully at home, you will eat them ALL within the first day. And THEN? Well, THEN, you’re out of chocolate for three weeks. The same goes for homemade GORP. And apples.

• Some mosquito nets are kind of charming and if you liked canopy beds as a kid, you might find that sleeping under one makes you feel a little like royalty. (Maybe that’s just me.) However, when you insist on sleeping under it, or inquire about whether the next hotel also provides them, those around you (men) will (gently) imply you might be overcautious to be following your tropical medicine doc’s advice. See also: closed-toe shoes; bug repellent; taking your malaria meds; and avoiding drinks with ice.

• When you’re going back and forth to the airport like it’s your job, it’s quite easy to mindlessly leave your Passport behind with an airport security agent overnight. When you dutifully return to retrieve it, you WILL be scolded. Your quick admission of guilt and copping to your wild irresponsibility will not shorten the tongue lashing. In addition, your profuse and heartfelt apology to the fellow repeat airport visitor who was kept waiting “20 minutes or an hour!” due to your mistake will not get her to smile or express any forgiveness. And, when that lady sees you again downstairs in the lost baggage office, THE NEXT DAY, she will still snub you.

• “Lost baggage?”, you ask with alarm. (Note: I appreciate your concern.) Why, yes! Regardless of how well you pack your one permitted carry-on in anticipation of losing luggage, three days in a third-world country without your bag full of snacks, supplements, toiletries and the many other savvy-traveler-type things you packed are quite eye opening and, at moments, disappointing. Even if that bag doesn’t contain MORE CHOCOLATE. When you get new information on Day 2 indicating the bag hasn’t even left Baltimore, you may find yourself really WANTING more chocolate. And regretting that you ate all the carry-on GORP so fast.

• It will only take 48 house for your resident room gecko to startle you at an inopportune moment, giving the totally inaccurate impression that you’re afraid of lizards. You will have already seen evidence that he lives with you and will have known you were sharing quarters with him, but your first “meeting” will include him at eye-level as you turn on the light and that aforementioned embarrassing shriek. After that you’ll feel compelled to (calmly!) point out ALL lizards, bugs and bats you see around the hotel to try to compensate. You’ll secretly doubt it’s working and will terrify yourself by wishing for a not-so-near-miss with a snake or rodent so you can regain your field cred. (Minor complaint: I’m convinced that reptile erased the picture I took of it.I can’t find it anywhere.)

You will never take safe water for granted again. (Really, I will never take safe water for granted again.)

If you’re wondering, “What the heck is crazy Martha doing in Africa?” please visit raincatcher.org and click on the blog to learn why we’re here and what we hope to accomplish. If you’d like to help us save lives, please visit my fundraising page to donate. Clean-water systems delivered through RainCatcher save a life for just $1. How many lives would you like to save today?

It’s so interesting how things that initially appear to be obstacles turn out to be blessings. Often on the journey to Uganda, minor hiccups and delays led to fortuitous redirection.

I enthusiastically painted the WRONG duffel bags!

Traveling in peace always requires a level of resiliency and patience. Common challenges, when met with exasperation, can turn a potentially pleasant trip into one perceived as a “nightmare.”

The CORRECT duffel bags, after painting.

The lesson of the importance of a we’ll see attitude couldn’t be clearer than on this trip. A combined 40 hours of travel time with us touching the soil on three continents could be expected to bring with it some inconveniences. They’re not unanticipated, but still the details are sometimes surprises.

Lodging mix ups. Baggage reroutes. Temporary revolts of parts of the body. In the moment these all could be viewed as bad news, but each one turned out to be beneficial.  Occasionally, a difference of a couple of minutes in your arrival, departure or shift in focus can lead to wonderful opportunities that would have been missed.

We often look at each other and say, “Well, of course this is how it’s working out!”

On our way

When your whole service itinerary depends on who you can connect with, where you can identify an opportunity to help, and what seeds you can plant for a future project, these twists and turns can be extremely valuable.

Airport number 5, our destination - Entebbe, Uganda

Already we’ve identified a new person to help transport filters in the future, a new orphanage (that just happens to be near another orphanage we’ll be working with) that is prepared to be added to the list for this trip, and officials from other NGOs and governmental bodies who became instantly enamored with the RainCatcher approach and want to work together.

The sticker in the window of our partner Dennis's van says it all!

That coupled with news, delivered upon touchdown in Dubai, that 1,000 additional and totally unexpected filters are just waiting for us in Kenya confirms that the timing is right and the mission is being supported by a greater, unseen hand.

Never been this SOUTH before! But, we made it!

What other amazing and faith-affirming things will happen in our travels today?

If you’re wondering, “What the heck is crazy Martha doing in Africa?” please visit RainCatcher’s blog to learn why we’re here and what we hope to accomplish. If you’d like to help us save lives, please visit my fundraising page to donate. Clean-water systems delivered through RainCatcher bring safe water to one human for just $1. How many lives would you like to save today?

It’s that time again. You’re probably receiving enthusiastic emails encouraging you to register for your company’s annual conference. You’re probably reading these emails as you finish up your taxes and you may even think, “That’s *all* I made last year? Is it even worth the time and money to go to this thing?”

I’ll admit: with my many, many years in the direct sales industry, I’ve been there, done that, and would even say I’ve seen it all at annual convention.

Breakout sessions. Team building exercises. Motivational speakers. Product unveilings. Trip incentive announcements. Trainers. Tearful testimonials. Executives dancing to Kanye West’s Gold Digger. There are no real surprises left.

Even with that history, I would implore you, “Get thee to your company’s annual meeting.”

Why? Because it’s not just boas and tiaras! (As nice as those can be…)

Need to charge it and make up the difference with extra sales in the fall?

Need to bunk up 6 people to a room?

Need to drive 10 hours in the car?

Doesn’t matter. Just do what it takes to get there. If you’re not committed enough to attend convention, I’ll go out on a limb and say you should probably just go ahead and resign. It’s that important to your business.

The energy of the annual meeting is something that you absolutely cannot replicate. Miss it and you’ve missed a chance to get pumped up, learn what you need to know, and stoke the fire burning within you.

In fact, I’d like to share with you a Top 10 list I developed on the way home from the recent annual conference of the  company with whom I currently have a field organization.

If I can feel this way about an opportunity and a company, while working as a full-time, on-site consultant for yet another company, and after DOZENS of similar meetings, just imagine what attending conference can do for YOU and for YOUR team.

Signs you’ve just left an exceptionally inspiring conference.

• You have to remind yourself not to stand up, clap and yell “Whoooo hoooo!!!” every time the pilot makes an announcement.

• Your broad perma-smile seems normal to you, but appears to startle some of your fellow travelers.

• Your arms twitch – almost visibly! – with the desire to hug everyone you talk to.

• When people around you hesitate in their movement, speech, or decisions, you’re tempted to ask them, “Are you in? Or are you IN?!??”

• When someone asks you what you do, you find yourself saying, “I’m a loooooooove magnet.” (That’s for YOU, Jon Gordon!)

• You find yourself scrawling warm & HOT lead lists on napkins and air sickness bags, because the wait to get to cruising altitude so you can retrieve your carry on seems way. too. long.

• You get carried away and flood Facebook with “too many pictures” which prompts old boyfriends to come out of the woodwork and start messaging you.

• You’re so busy taking orders, calling your contacts, and fielding inquiries that you don’t really have time to get on Facebook! (*gasp* I know!!)

• You’re due in late at night and find yourself segmenting your contact list by timezone
  so you can start calling your friends as soon as you land. (Sleep? Who needs sleep?!?)

• Blowing up barriers, overcoming obstacles, and crushing challenges feels like child’s play. You’re back in touch with your “why” and you’re UNSTOPPABLE.

You have my express permission to reprint this article or publish it as long as you respect my copyright by attributing the article and/or list to me and referencing/linking to me at either marthamcbride.com or modernpartyplan.com.  Thanks much! Hope this helps you explain to others why they should NEVER miss convention!

Isn’t he cute? Born today. Looks just like the other two did, as well as just like my son did almost 20 years ago.

Our family is thrilled and it continues a streak of boys, for both my family and my brother’s wife’s family. (Hey E!)

This beautiful new baby today makes 6 grandsons/nephews/sons in that generation. For she and I (Hey E!) that means, along with my mom, that we’re still part of a very small minority.

Have I mentioned that I have three brothers?

Yes. Very. Small. Minority.

But, truly, no complaints here.

A banner day, indeed!

Poked around my blog today and was laughing to myself about the flurry of activity. I certainly know why there are suddenly a bunch of posts. (Accountability is a beautiful thing.)

To an outsider, it would still appear to be an anomaly. Halfway through the month and I keep showing up, but will it last? I made a personal commitment to blog more, joined the group, and am hoping that a habit will be established. Let’s hope that 31 days is enough to make writing for myself regularly a routine.

A friend recently texted me: Here it goes again! New Year’s resolutioners are  taking over the gym!”

Apparently, as of  January 3 it was long waits for cardio equipment, a shortage of clean towels, and crowded classes.

So, I asked him yesterday how things were looking.

HIM: Almost back to normal

ME: When does it usually return to normal levels?

HIM: Feb 1. Like clockwork.

hmmmm…January 18. I guess I’m not yet out of the woods for “habit establishment.”

Remember that we considered leaving the Christmas Tree up?  Well, it’s still there. It’s kind of nice.  We’ve gotten used to a little routine of clicking on the lights each evening, even though the rest of the Christmas decorations have been stashed in their boxes.

We planned to load it up with Valentine’s ornaments for the next round, but my brilliant friend Diane came over the other night and had a fabulous idea: why not turn it into a “Dream Tree.”  Rather than skipping straight to a February holiday, why not decorate in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech.

A Dream Tree! How cool is that?  So, we have taken our vision board items and made ornaments representing our dreams for the future.  Some are just words written on pieces of paper.  Some are mini totems that represent the specific goals.  Others are pictures of places, things, experiences that are on our respective life lists.

Coming up with ideas was a lot of fun and turning the artificial evergreen into a veritable “Vision Board” was a blast. We should get a couple good weeks out of this holiday before we begin putting up the hearts and cherubs.