A Beating Heart!

Today was a big day. I showed up at the hospital this morning with two other interns and Jeremy with the intention of seeing nine year old Navar have heart surgery. When we got there Navar was sitting in the room with her father. After just a few minutes of watching Navar and Lydia play patty cake, a head nurse came and asked for one of us to scrub up. Hastily I followed her back, and was quickly dressed in scrubs. I walked into the surgery room filled with triumphant opera music where Dr. Cicek, the head cardiac surgeon, was in the middle of the surgery of a teenage Arabic girl I didn't know. Before I looked over the barrier between the girl's face and her open chest Dr. Cicek asked if I had seen blood before. I said yes and hesitantly popped my head over for a look. The sight of an open chest with a beating heart inside is something to behold. It's one of those things you see yet take a second to comprehend. I watched as the calm yet assertive Dr. Cicek mended the young girls leaky mitral valve and hole between her atria. The whole thing was a bit of an adrenalin rush. I couldn't take my eyes away. After and hour and a half or so, I walked out and Alex and Lydia were asked to observe Navar's Surgery.

Navar's surgery took four and a half hours. I went back with her father after the surgery to hear what happened and Dr. Cicek with a bit of a dazed/relieved/excited look said the surgery was successful but that the problem she was diagnosed with was incorrect. Instead of Tetralogy of Fallot she had Double Outlet Right Ventricle (DORV) with an eight centimeter hole in her heart. This turns out to be one of the most complicated heart surgeries possible, and Dr. Cicek performed it with a successful outcome. It's amazing! I've truly seen God in these last few moments. Navar still has a lot of recovery to go through, but with more time, thoughts, and prayers hopefully she will be running around with a healthy heart. Leah, Chro, and Jeen still have to receive heart surgery, and hopefully they will receive it within the next few days.

Thanks everyone for all the support in helping me come to Iraq. We have one more day and then we fly out. This experience has been amazing, and it has culminated in a little girl receiving major heart surgery. If you supported me thanks, and if you've supported the kids if PLC or plan to thanks even more.

All the best,

Preston

http://preemptivelove.org

P.S. I should have more pictures and videos up soon:)

Hopeful Days in Turkey

So, I’m sitting the the airport of Sulaimania, waiting for our delayed flight. It’s a great time to catch everyone up.

This past Friday we had our banquet for all of the kids that PLC assisted in going to surgery this past year. All the families and the kids especially had a great time. The whole banquet was a culmination of what I’ve been working on this whole summer. All the kids were there, and they were running around with their healthier hearts while we played with them. Our friend and local Klash maker Aram was there to celebrate with us as well. Watching everyone interact was a great sight to see.

Now i’m headed to Turkey with all the interns and four children with their families who are getting surgery this coming week. Navar (nine year old girl), Chro (baby girl), Leah (infant girl), and Jeen (14 year old girl) are all about to have surgery. Hopefully, I’ll be watching these same kids run around at the banquet next year. This trip is also a bit of hope in the midst of a week of many problems and tragedy. This past Thursday there was an awful fire at a hotel two buildings down from our office. Thirty people died, most of them from smoke inhalation. A few of the interns photographed the horrific seen. There has also been a lot of politically influenced problems that have hindered PLC’s Remedy Mission (30 surgeries in two weeks in Iraq).

So knowing these four children here in this airport are headed to surgery is definitely a ray of light. Check out children that PLC is trying to help and send help more children to surgery:

http://preemptivelove.org

http://preemptivelove.org/remedy

(Sorry there are no pictures. With our internet in Turkey, we can’t upload any without paying more)

I'm an Iraqi with an American mind."

So, meeting people that defy my stereotypes and challenge my commonly held beliefs has become a common occurrence here in Iraq. One powerful example of this occurred today when I met an Iranian man named Sirwan. He’s been a friend of a fellow intern here, Ben, for a while now, and Ben invited me today to go eat lunch with them. Sirwan is a Iranian Kurdish man who makes his living as a journalist, a profession that can get him killed in his home country. He’s quite the character. With an aggressively happy personality and an intense eagerness to learn, he was very interesting to listen to and talk with. We sat down to eat at one of our favorite restaurants here in Sulaimania, and I started asking him what it was like growing up in Iran. His replies were unexpected. He said that in Iran the government goes to great lengths to paint Americans as evil, non-human beings. As he explained, from an early age children are taught that Americans are evil and should be destroyed. During the elementary years of school, they are taught that Americans are like wild animals with sharp teeth, horns, and talons. After moving to the Kurdish part of Iraq and meeting new friends like Ben, however, he says that his perceptions have been changed and that the virus of his preconceived indoctrinations have been “cured” by the antivirus of free-thinking. Ben gave him a bible because Sirwan wanted to read about the Jesus that he wasn’t allowed to understand as a child, and he says that the lessons he was taught as a child are completely different. In his Iran, Jesus is a violent man of evil.

While listening to Sirwan speak, I couldn’t help but reexamine my own preconceptions of the Middle East, and Iranians especially, coming into this internship. I mean, have I ever heard anything positive about Iranians in the news that cast them as actual humans instead of government pawns? No. Have I ever attempted to understand the Quran? No. But now I’ve met a man who defies all my stereotypes and has taken it upon himself to be what he calls a “free-thinker” and accept people.

Another acquaintance within the last couple of days occurred while I was watching the World Cup. In Sarchinar Park, I sat on a stone bench next to an Iraqi man who went by the name of “Billy” (a nickname he was told to use instead of his actual name). After noticing his exceptional English, we stuck up a conversation, and it did not take long before we got on the topic of his work with the U.S. Army. Apparently he does translation for some pretty amazing American military men. His story was great, and I respect what he does along with every military man. I couldn’t get past the way he talked about his own country, however. As he explained, he’s an Iraqi with an American mind, and his assumption seemed to be that everything “American” is right. At one point he brought up something about Iraqi culture and in less tactful language said that he could care less about his own culture. I know that this is one man and one opinion, but the one-sided words coming out of his mouth just seemed so much more... wrong. If I would have heard those things from an American friend, they would not have seemed nearly as unusual, but coming from him they cast the whole American pride thing into a new light. Our conversation made me question exactly how much our beliefs are based on what makes us feel validated of valued. How far can our search for validation take us before we lose sight of reality?

On a bit of a different note, a few people that I’m looking forward to meeting soon are the kids that PLC has sent to surgery in the past year. The banquet for the PLC kids that I’ve been a part of planning is coming up this Friday, and I can’t wait. I know seeing them will be a bit of a world-view changer as well. Thank you everyone for supporting these children and allowing me to have this experience with them in Iraq.

Best wishes,

Preston

Hanging Out With Sheik (video)

The Sheikh's Smile from Preemptive Love on Vimeo.

Hey everybody, the other day we hung out with our close friend the Sheikh. I wrote a blog about him earlier. Here is the video that Jeremy made of us hanging out in a Hooka bar. Hooka is a big fancy way of smoking tobacco, and smoking it here is just part of the culture. It is as common as drinking tea. Just wanted you to understand what going on. While we were there he talked to us a lot about the evil of terrorism and hatred. Listening to him is really amazing to take part in.

Two Pennies Short

As I was hanging out in Aram’s shop last Thursday, I realized just how much I don’t understand the culture here in the Middle East. Just to remind you, Aram is the local Klash maker here in Iraq that has partnered with PLC to help kids in need of heart surgery. One of my favorite things to do is hang out in his shop because it’s where I’ve had some of my best experiences here in Iraq. It’s where I tried sheep brains. However, last Thursday I experienced what it is to commit a cultural faux pas.

While drinking tea and sitting around, I saw Aram looking at the pennies in my penny loafers. Thinking it would make good conversation, I started explaining why I put them there. I told them that it was an American penny and it was Abraham Lincoln’s face on the coin. A look of shock hit both of their faces. Awara looked at me and said (half jockingly), “How can you insult the name of Abraham like this? He’s a prophet.” Immediately I reacted defensively and began to plead my case. I explained that no, the face on the penny is not the prophet; he’s the U.S. president that abolished slavery, and with every explanation I just dug the hole deeper and deeper. So, not knowing that feet can be so disrespectful in this country, I had not only insulted the name of the prophet mohammed but also the name of the president who helped abolish slavery. And to top it all off, the coin says “In God We Trust.” Well, now I had insulted God himself. Mostly what they were doing was giving me a hard time, but at the same time, both Aram and Awara were genuinely offended by what I considered stylish. I tried explaining that it was a cultural difference and that putting the pennies in my shoe was not disrespectful, but they weren’t having any of that. To them, insulting the name of God by putting the coin in my shoe was an absolute truth. In order to not further my insult any more, I obliged them and removed the pennies. So what does Aram do? He sprays glue on the back of the pennies and sticks them to his wall! Good Times.

Best wishes,

Preston

Backed Into a Corner

Hey everyone,

I've written a blog on the PLC blog about my visit with a local cardiologist Dr. Aso a couple of days ago. It was a pretty intense and world view maturing day. Instead of re-writing the blog I've just attached the link here. Check it out

Hanging With Our Sheik Friend

(Photos of out Sheik friend compliments of Foster Addington)

Sometimes there are people that automatically command a certain type of reverence or respect the first time you meet them. I felt this way about our new friend Sheik (Sheik is a title for a well respected arabic religious man, I don’t use his full name for privacy sake). He’s a friend of Jeremy’s (our boss) who we were introduced to Monday night. Jeremy informed us that he is an Islamic religious leader that lived in Baghdad six or so years ago. Because of his peaceful teaching and active work against extremism, his house and mosque were bombed, and his family was threatened severely. Though he wasn’t injured nor his family killed, the threats on their life became so severe that they had to leave. Now, six years later and because of his meeting with Jeremy, I was able to sit in his guest room and talk with him. While dressed in his religious robes and headdress, made us feel right at home while he spoke to us about peace and the corruption of Iraq. I listened intently. After a few minutes however, he abruptly says, “Hey let’s go to a coffee shop.” Big change from what I expected. Turns out he really wanted to watch Spain play Honduras, and he left the room and came back looking super slick. Decked out with a European looking suite, he took on a whole different image to me. The feeling is kind of like the feeling you get when your a kid and you end up seeing one of your teachers in the store. It’s just a deviation from what I perceived as normal. We ended up spending the whole night in a tea/hooka bar enjoying each others company while Spain won, and he was not afraid to celebrate every goal they scored. The whole night was unusual and amazing for us all.

Today, he invited us to lunch at his house, and oh dear lord, the spread was ridiculous. Arabic food is different from Kurdish food, and from what I can tell, it might be better. As we sat on the floor and ate the lamb, rice, fruit, beef/dressing ball thing, and fish, I think I passed the threshold of the most amount of food I’ve ever fit into my body. IT WAS DELICIOUS, and words can’t describe it.

The whole experience with Sheik has been... new and interesting. Sitting in a room, drinking tea, and eating lamb with a man who was the target of terrorists because of his life of peace is definitely a world view changing experience in which I have been glad to be a part.

Life in Iraq seems to be filled with deviations from the norm, at least deviations from my norm, and I like it. I like to think the message of Jesus was a huge deviation from what the world considered the norm.

Farewell Habibi (arabic for my love),

Preston

Yousif

(Yousif's Sister's and Joshua)

(Yousif Running Around)

Last Thursday, three other interns, Awara, and myself traveled three hours to a town called Rhanya to visit a Yousif, a six year old boy in need of heart surgery. The trip was three hours of driving through mountains. It was not the easiest of rides (especially after being sick for a week), but it was beautiful. For the part of the drive that I was awake for, the scenery was beautiful. The mountains were not covered in trees like I’m used to seeing, and it makes everything seem so much more open. Also as we drove, we would come up on these rivers that seemed to come out of nowhere. It was beautiful.

As we arrived at Yousif’s town, we pulled into an area where every person’s property was blocked off by concrete walls which in turn lined the very narrow roads we drove on. After finding our way through the maze of roads, we arrived in front of Yousif’s house and were greeted by his sisters. Walking into the back yard past the chicken coupe and cement block concrete shed, I was trying not to initially assume things like how poor this family is, how “better off” I am, or how much this family “needs’ us. There seems to be a bit of a superiority complex when it comes to volunteer or aide type work at times, and while I’m here I’m want to be very weary of what I assume and how I act on these assumptions.

We sat down in a back patio area while we waited for Yousif and his mother. Turns out, they had been working. His mother walked in wearing multiple layers (keep in mind its like 112 degrees) with dust rolling off of her. This lady seems like one strong woman. Skinny little Yousif came strolling in behind his mom with a bashful look on his face while trying to keep his pants up. This kid has a debilitating heart disease and he was out doing his daily labor! Maybe that’s not such a big deal, but he definitely struck me as tough little fella. We all greeted Yousif and the family, and Yousif smiled. His face was already a little blue from working, but when he smiled the dark blue tint of his gums made it obvious that his body was not circulating nearly the amount of oxygen he needs. After a few seconds of being shy, Yousif warmed up to us, especially when I pulled out the soccer ball. Last time someone visited him, they had to borrow a ball from the neighbors. We only stayed about twenty minutes because they needed to get back to work. During our short stay we briefly talked about his medicine and other needs,but most of time we just kicked a ball around with Yousif, his brother Younis, and their many sisters. It was really calm, and everyone had the biggest smiles on their faces. Yousif had the largest of them all. Before we left, i showed Younis how to air up the ball, and when I got close, I could here him breathing so hard like he had to work for every inhale. He was starved for oxygen after just a few minutes of lightly kicking a soccer ball.

Making a connection is hard to do in twenty minutes. I’m sure I didn’t affect Yousif tremendously, but being around him has made my trip to Iraq worth everything. It might be a little selfish of me to think the trip important enough to use three hours worth of gas to kick around a ball with a kid for twenty minutes, but it allowed me to finally connect and associate a physical face to the cause of PLC. No longer is Yousif, or any child with congenital heart disease for that matter, just a picture or a blog post. He is the little guy I kicked a soccer ball with on June 17th, and because of that I want him to enjoy not having to struggle for every breathe that little bit more now. Hopefully PLC is a part of making that happen, but PLC is a group of people. It is the people in the office, and you and I at home working and donating to give Yousif heart surgery. Working with PLC is has value to me because money is not only being donated to some abstract idea, it goes to help ease Yousif’s next breath.

New Friends and Girly Shoes

Over the last week or so, things have started to blur together, in a good way. Every day seems to bring new experiences and stories. As a result, separating the days and writing a blog has become a increasingly difficult, but here are a few things that stick out in my mind.

One experience has been developing a bit more of a social life here. A few of us interns go out at nights and find pick-up soccer games to jump in with, and in the process meet some really cool guys. Soccer is definitely a huge deal here for everyone, so no one game is the same. Tonight we played with a guy and a lot of his family. It was basically Americans against Kurds (we got destroyed). The game was a big deal for him organize, and it was a privilege to be invited. The World Cup has also been a huge deal here. Coming in, I expected it to be somewhat of a soccer pandemonium here as the games began, but it turns out that a lot of people watch soccer in there homes or in small tea shops, which has a hospitality all its own. After playing soccer one night, my friend Alex and I walked into a near by tea shop and struck up a conversation some fellas. Turns out they’ve been living in Scotland for eight years and speak English very well (a Kurdish/Scottish accent is quite unusual by the way). So for the last few world cup games we’ve met up and had a great time together. We cheer on America and they tell us England will kill us. You know, the usual (Turns out England didn’t kill us). Tonight, after playing another soccer game we started walking with some guys to a near by park where the game was being shown on a big screen. On the way there, we stopped and had tea, and during the game the guys bought us water, some crazy pickle things, and sunflower seeds. Turning down someone’s offer of food or trying to pay for stuff is extremely hard here. First off, they won’t really let you, and second, it can be shameful (Iba) sometimes. Though people here don’t react to the world cup like I expected, their love for the game is obvious and expressed in a different way. It’s a way in which people can really get to know each other even better through the simple act of watching a sport.

Another great part of the week has been the making of the new feminine Klash, which has been dubbed ‘Klashy Lydia’ (Ballet Flats Klash is the official name I think). Part of my specific tasks here is working with our friend and local Klash maker Aram. Sharing new ideas and building relationship (aka hanging out) is a lot of what I’ve been doing, and though working with shoes might seem unusual or even trivial to some, the people behind the Klash shoe and their unique contributions to children in need are what first attracted me to PLC. While working with Aram, a few of us have tossed around the idea of a more feminine Klash. Ben, Claire, and myself got the ball rolling and the first pair of feminine Klash (pictured above) were purchased by a fellow intern Lydia a couple days ago. Many probably know this, but I’m not known for my style. So, designing a shoe has been a new and exciting venture for me, and I’m happy to be a small part of this contribution to PLC. Not to get a big head or anything, but if I we’re of the female persuasion, I would totally rock these shoes...just sayin. The shoes are up for pre-order now at:

http://buyshoessavelives.com/klash/ballet-red-white.php

So yep, that’s been some of my week so far. Thanks for your interest in my life in Iraq, and PLC’s work for children in need of heart surgeries (http://preemptivelove.org).

Ser Chow (your in my eyes),

Preston

Ahmed Awa

So, in my naivety, I definitely did not know that there are still shepherds in business. Here is a guy moving his flock down the street towards the mountains.

Ahmed Awa (Ahmed's Water), the water fall that we visited after seeing halabja was gorgeous. After being shown the secret way to the top, a few of us jumped across to the middle where some rocks were bulging out, and we met a few more guys just hanging out in the middle of a waterfall.

Iran is just over that mountain, and yes, this is the waterfall where the hikers, who were arrested in Iran, were hiking (we were safe the whole time). These mountains are beautiful.

Pic-Nicing is serious business here. People take hospitality and food to a new level here. This is most of the PLC team here in Iraq plus few guys that came down for the week.

My Own Little World Cup Kurdistan

I was talking to a friend here, Alex, the other day about ways that people express themselves, and how often times the ways we physically express ourselves are extremely important. For me, my favorite way to do this is through Dugolie (soccer). While spending time in a place where English is not the primary language (even though most people seem to know quite a lot), I’ve been itching to get out and get to know people through soccer. A few nights ago we were told about a place where people play a lot of pick up soccer games, and what do ya know, three of us show up and we're immediately greeted and asked to play. The fellas we played with were really great guys, and I don’t need words to understand this. Just passing, running, and shooting is all we needed, quality soccer. All the guys we played with were different, some young, some old, some skilled, some not. While trying to act like I had skill, I soon was reminded that even though a man looks a bit older and on the chubby side, this doesn’t mean he still can’t meg you and make you feel pretty silly. We’ve come back a few times since that first night, and played with all types of guys, and made all kinds of friends. There has been one game where we had to prove that we weren’t just a couple American push-overs,and that was a great experience as well. A couple shoves into the fence and we’re good. I'm hoping to come back to Lambuth with some Kurdish style (still trying to figure out exactly what that looks like). Playing soccer with these people is just another way that the kurdish people have invited us into their lives allowing us to grow in our understanding and love for these people.

Attempting Understanding

When something occurs on a massive scale, a person can often times say they have heard about it or learned something about it, but actually relating to and understanding what’s happened is completely different. Try thinking of numbers in the billions. The U.S. is trillions of dollars in debt . We can recite this fact, but actually comprehending it’s immensity is practically impossible. This is often how I and I’m assuming many others feel when we hear words like genocide and reports of thousands of people dying. Maybe a report comes up in the news. We listen, feel terrible, and then are able to go on with our day, or maybe we are moved and try to raise awareness. Still, the atrocity is so incomprehensible and we are so far removed that life can resume with relative invariability. In preparation for my trip to Kurdistan, I have read a few things about the Kurds. Statistics, stories, and other things have made my heart break for these people, but in the relative ease of my life there’s still a huge gap in my understanding and their reality.

However, there are times when something occurs that allows a part of us to be able to further relate or attempt to understand an atrocity. Maybe that something is a particular child’s face or a story of a person that seems so much like a person you know, causing you to feel connected. Our trip to Halabja this past wednesday was one of those moments for me.

In Halabja, a memorial has been built to commemorate the day the town was destroyed by gas attacks. Just to inform, March 16th, 1988 was the day when Saddam’s Hussein’s military dropped bombs filled with mustard and various other gases on the Kurdish village of Halabja. Even before the gas bombs were dropped, other explosives were planted inside buildings to break windows preventing victims from escaping the gas indoors. Within moments following the attack 5,000 people lay dead, many more would die in the days and months to come, and still more would feel the lasting impact for years. As we first entered the memorial building, we were led to a room depicting the rich culture of Halabja before the bombings, and immediately following we were led to a hall filled with a diorama of the terrible scenes from the day of the bombings. Gruesome depictions of a dead father holding his child, dead cattle, and a truck bed filled with dead bodies encompassed the hall. The visual was hard to digest, and after we were led to a large circular room with each wall covered in the names of those who were brutally killed. One name, however, was outlined in green because the person was found just in the last year to be alive, living in Iran. He was rescued as a baby and taken to Iran. The next room we were led to was what made it all sink in. The walls of the room were covered in photos taken by Iranian photojournalists captured just days after the attacks. As we passed the pictures, each was explained in great detail. Some showed scores of bodies lying on the ground. Others depicted whole families frozen in the positions they were in when the explosions hit, and as our guide passed across one picture his finger stopped. The photo was of a truck packed with dead bodies, all with sheets on them declaring the person to be dead. HE WAS ONE OF THEM. The man standing in front of us, recounting the tragedy, was declared officially dead, loaded on to a truck of corpses and almost taken away. Speaking becomes difficult at this point, the point when I realize that I am standing on the exact ground in which Saddam implemented his ethnic cleansing through the Anfal campaign, which was designed to extinguish the Kurds. This isn’t some photo in a news story. The ground on which I stand is real, the brave, enduring, miracle of a man standing in front of me is real, and I am here. The only words I can think of at this point are “This is real,” and the gap between my reality and the reality of the Kurdish people is lessened just that little bit. These people experienced tragedy, and neither their nor any other government (except for maybe Iran) chose to care about them at the time. In fact, many of the weapons used were constructed in and purchased from the U.S., Germany and France. Not until the 90’s did it become much of an issue in the U.S.

All being said, I know I can never truly understand the tragic immensity of that day, nor do I understand the politics behind the international response. However, the effects of this atrocity are still felt by the Kurds of today and will be felt for generations to come. Congenital disease is one of these effects, and this is the reason I’ve grown connected to the cause of PLC. It might seem silly to say, but there are real children here with real genetic heart conditions that are a result from a real tragedy, and from my perspective the community of PLC provides real help.

Pictures: (top) Memorial room with names of all the victims, (bottom) Outside the memorial

Aram

Ser-u-pe!

I partook in a small adventure today. One of the culinary type. So far, for the short time that I have been here, I have heard tale of a certain little dish called Ser-u-pe. After, hearing all the hype and growing in my excitement, i finally had the fabled dish. During our latest visit with KakAram, we ordered Ser-u-pe. Twenty or so minutes later, a man arrived with five bowls for all of us in the shop. The soupy concoction consisted of a little sheep brain, tongue, and feet. Now I know this might sound unusual, but after timidly tasting the first spoonful, i realized, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Kurds know what they’re doing when it comes to food. They can even make sheep brain and feet taste delicious. The grellowish brothy soup along with their flavorful tortilla type bread is definitely an experience worth having, and I’m proud to say that I have.

Much love,

Preston

Choni, Bashi?

Every time I start writing a blog i don’t know where to start or what to write about. There is just so much going on worth writing about and sharing.Experiencing the culture, playing soccer with kids, and my work withPLC fill up my days. I’ll try and give you a little glimpse.

When speaking of culture, the biggest culture shock I’ve had to deal with is the many restrictions to which women adhere. Men, by far, are able to be more relaxed than women in public. So many things that women do affect their reputations, such as not making direct eye contact with any man that’s not their husband. Women are not to go to the little side tea vendors or to little tea shops at night. As a man is leaving the house, he is not to say thank you to another man's wife if he is in the house by himself. This could be seen as infidelity. Also, a woman can have a job but it is much more respectable for her to work in the house from nine to five. Now before you run off thinking that this must be some male chauvinist society, know that the rules are not violently or unmercifully enforced (even though many rules are upheld by the law). They have to do more with how a woman portrays herself, and many of the restrictions seem to be out of respect and protection of a woman’s reputation (I’m saying this with only a few days experience, so I’m definitely no expert). In America women are almost expected to have jobs sometimes, and if a man were to tell his wife she couldn’t, it would be disrespectful. However, here a woman is respected by her husband when he provides for her entirely. The argument is that if a woman has to give birth and is expected to work in the house, a husband should be able to work and provide. Men also know too respect their women because of their reserved behavior. I’m guessing many of the restrictions also come from the Islamic religion.

If the southern people are known for their hospitality, then Kurdistan is the South of the Middle East. The people's kindness goes beyond hospitality. For example, I walk into a man’s house with a friend of PLC to discuss business. From the moment we entered the house we were greeted (choni, Bashi?), and served water, hot sweet tea (sweetest ever and delicious), and watermelon. Walking down the street people are so quick to say high, and people are very excited to have conversations in English. On thursday nights, there is a coffee shop get together where Kurdish and American people get together just to have conversations. There really is no hesitation in getting to know somebody here (besides the whole men and women not really talking thing). Also, Today I walked out the door and started playing soccer with six kids. Then I went to the market and ate the best falafel ever, told the man it was delicious, and he made us pay next to nothing. The examples of Kurdish kindness and hospitality are endless.

Working with PLC, the reason I”m here, is perhaps the most exciting thing to talk about. As I said in an earlier blog, I’m working a lot with PLC’s Klash extraordinaire KakAram. I’m also helping to plan a banquet for our kids that have gone through surgery, and working with doctors. Most of what I’ve done so far is work with Aram. A few days last week a fellow intern and I went to visit Aram. While we were there, communicating was definitely difficult, but after a few minutes we were laughing at each other and getting to know each other on a basic level. Of course, being the kurdish man he is, he served us tea and even showed us how he makes the sole to a Klash (I should have a video up). Seriously, he is one cool guy, and he is willing to listen to our new ideas for Klash even though his work has been a tradition for years.

The Klash is just one way that PLC creatively partners with people to raise funds for heart surgeries. It’s what I first connected with because of the people behind the shoe. To me, selling Klash is a simple yet inventive way to empower the Iraqi people and help these children, and working with Aram is the coolest.

Hope and love,

Preston

Doing What I Love!

Wednesday we began our work in the PLC office. Coming into this internship, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to be doing or if i would even have the skill set to be a benefit to PLC. However, after receiving our assignments today, my fears were relieved. We began our meeting discussing PLC and the approaches PLC takes in sharing its message, the message of life-saving heart surgeries! I couldn’t be more excited about the people and organization I’m working with. We were then shown the tasks for the summer, and it seemed like the variety of tasks matched up so well with our variety of interns.This really is a talented and driven bunch we have here. We have photographers who’s work you can’t take your eyes away from, and writers who do amazing things (by the end of the summer they’ll probably be writing in Kurdish). For my own tasks, I’ll be planning a banquet for our kids that have gone through surgery, working with our Klash maker, and visiting doctors. You know that feeling you get when your a kid when you make a gift for your parents or something that your really proud of. Well, that’s how I feel about these tasks. I have a chance to contribute to something that I really want to share. I’ll now be able make a mark on every aspect of how I first came to know PLC. To explain, these kids have a curable condition and deserve a healthy chance at life, but PLC takes this love a bit further by empowering the shoemakers who’s work is used to help make these surgeries possible. Also, I am pre-med, so having the honor to visit these doctors will be more beneficial than i can imagine. If I seem excited, it’s because I am, and I hope, no matter what organization it is, that everyone can connect with something that really drives them to make a difference. PLC has provided that for so many.

Once the tasks were received, we were off to the races. A room full of creative and zealous college kids, i’d say the room was a bit crazy. My friend Ben and I took out to the Bazaar to meet with our friend and Klash maker Aram. While we were there, he welcomed us, brought us tea, and made an entire Klash sole in front of us. It’s an art that is hard to explain (hopefully I’ll have a video up). Anyway, thanks for reading. Kurdistan (Iraq) is a wonderful place worth telling people about, and I hope to tell you more soon.

Best wishes,

Preston

(Pictures top to bottom- Aram working sole, Aram's work station, Half of PLC office)

From Plane Ride to Bazaar

So let me tell ya something, Wal-Mart’s got nothing on Sulaymaniyah’s bazaar, but before we get to that let me tell you about the plane ride. Long is the word to describe it, but educational works as well. I hopped on a plane from Nashville to New York reeling with excitement and a bit of fear because going it alone is a first for me. While on the plane, I met an Indian college student who explained the seventh day adventist church to me which was cool and educational, and two hours later i was in New York. The people in the airport seemed so trendy but maybe that’s just the stereotype I put on New Yorkers (Josh Baltz). After a couple hours in the airport i met the first of nine extremely cool interns that I will be working with, Sophie. From NYC, I was then off to Istanbul where I met a woman on the plane who convinced me to go backpacking across South America. This is where the long part comes in. The plane ride was around 10 hours, and once we were in Istanbul Sophie and I had to wait 14 hours for our next flight. It turned out to be ok though. We ate some Turkish food, drank some turkish coffee, and met all but two of the rest of the interns. Ben, Esther, Alex, DBuc, Claire, and Josh are their names, and they’re all so cool (the other two are arriving Wednesday). I feel like each person has an amazing and unique story, and working with them is going to be amazing. Then it was off to Salaymaniyah, where on the plane I met an Iraqi man that was really excited just to speak English with me. Adnan, cool guy.

When we arrived in Suly, the time was three in the morning, so we all went back to the house and crashed. However, eleven o’clock the next morning we were woken up to a surprise. Our mission for the day was to find a list of necessary and optional supplies for our summer in Iraq. We were given the list and some cash, nothing more. What a great way to first learn about and experience how to live in Suly. We went to the bus stop, chaotically squeezed on a bus, and took off to the Bazaar. Before, I go any further with, let me briefly explain Suly. It’s a large city that is actually very modern, which surprised me and my American perspective of Iraq. Their architecture isn’t at all uniform, which makes it beautiful. Concrete buildings are in all sorts of cool designs, and the people here dress really sharp. Fellas wear nice button up shirts and gel up their hair. For them, dressing well is a way of showing respect, even just going to the store. Back to the bazaar, it is a massive, and when i say massive, I mean massive market where you walk around on the sidewalk and can find anything you could ever need. You can even buy a squirrel as a pet, complete with a pretty collar around its neck. Luckily, on the bus we met an extremely nice an hospitable Kurdish guy named Hajjin (probably spelled wrong). The entire afternoon he helped us find everything we needed, such as SIM cards, cheap cell phones, and fruit smoothies (legit melons were used at that). Seriously he was a great guy that I hope we hang out with again soon. After, the bazaar we came back and ate a delicious meat salad (because I had more hamburger meet than salad). After supper we gathered in the living room and worshiped together. Josh Gigs, a long term intern, shared a great story about his life and we all sang some great songs together (Jeremy, one of the head honchos, can really play). It felt like true church, sitting in the middle of Iraq, sharing experiences, and singing to God not because it’s the routine but because God’s love is worth celebrating together.

As the days go on, I’ll be getting more into a work routine in the PLC office and I’ll be sharing with you more and more information about the life-saving work of PLC. Also, I’m definitely going to update the blog more frequently. There are just to many details to fit into one blog.

Best wishes,

Preston

(pictures above from top to bottom: Hanging out with Hajjin, Klash shoemaker shop, Pet squirrel, The PLC house)

So, I like to think that part of the reason I am going to Iraq is because of Juicy Fruit. Yes, that delicious gum. Let me explain. When I was little, a man that went to my church, Mr. Thornton, always gave all the little kids and I pieces of Juicy Fruit. It seemed just a kind little gesture, but as time went on more of these little gestures really made an impact on me. I eventually asked him to be my mentor during confirmation. Through these last few months of preparing to work with the Preemptive Love Coalition, I’ve been pondering alot about how our lives are filled with and shaped by selfless gestures that eventually culminate into something beautiful. I’ve always loved Mother Teresa’s view that we cannot do great things, only small things with great love (not quoted properly, I know), and throughout these last few months of raising money, I’ve had so many people go out of their way to help me raise the funds needed to get to Iraq. Wether it be through helping me cook 180 half chickens, giving me travel advice, donating to my trip, or praying for me, so many people have made investments in my cause that have helped me tremendously, and through this internship I hope to continue with this love given to me and share it with the families of Iraq. I am excited to contribute to the mission of PLC in any way possible and see the culmination of lots of love from lots of people helping to eradicate the backlog of heart surgeries needed by Iraqi children. Through these surgeries, children receive another chance at life, and people are able to look past there ethnic and cultural walls that keep us apart in order to help.

Thank you to everyone who has helped make this possible for me, and now I hope to extend the invitation to you to continue with PLC and I in helping these Iraqi children. The Preemptive Love Coalition now has the opportunity to help more kids receive heart surgeries in a shorter amount of time than ever before through their REMEDY MISSION program. REMEDY MISSIONS are international pediatric surgery teams brought to Iraq to help provide heart surgeries for children in need while also providing training for local doctors. PLC will be able to help provide 30 kids with life-saving heart surgeries at a fraction of the normal cost, and training local doctors helps insure the improvement of Iraqi Healthcare. Please, check out this amazing chance to save lives! The website for the REMEDY MISSION is:

www.preemptivelove.org/remedy

I’ll keep you updated on my time in Iraq and the work of PLC (on a weekly basis maybe). Thanks for reading and please check in again soon.