JOIN US ON AN ADVENTURE OF A LIFETIME Black Giraffe Dancing Adventures presents two unique Christmas/New Year’s adventures in Tanzania. ABOUT BRIAN Brian Chapman, born and raised in Skowhegan, Maine has been in the travel business since 1980. Throughout his 30+ years in travel he has traveled to over 60 countries in Africa, Asia, Europe, North America and the South Pacifi c. In 1995 Brian opened North Bank Travel and in 1998, Brian was asked by Rev. Leon Sullivan to handle travel for the Leon H Sullivan Summit, which was a group of 600 traveling to Accra, Ghana. Brian has also arranged travel for groups ranging from 150-450 to Equatorial Guinea, Ethiopia, Ghana, Nigeria, Senegal and Tanzania. GIVING BACK Mulala Village Borehole What keeps bringing me back to Tanzania are the people. Since 2007 I’ve been traveling to Tanzania at least once, if not twice a year. Over time, I’ve met and visited with many different people who have gone out of their way to share with me more about Tanzania along with their wants, needs and dreams. Black Giraffe Dancing Adventures wants to share with you an experience of a lifetime in Tanzania. On January 3, 2016, you’ll be able to witness a water borehole being drilled and hitting a gusher. This will be done at the Mulala Village, where you’ll be standing next to the villagers and share with them in their excitement. Having a well makes their lives a little easier, allowing them to become more self- suffi cient. Find out how you can help raise funds for this project and save on the price of your itinerary. I look forward to seeing you in Tanzania! Brian Chapman EXPERIENCE THE MAGIC OF AFRICA’S ROOFTOP December 25, 2015 - January 3, 2016 $3,895.00 per person double occupancy* (Single room supplement $193.40)** Image the magic you’ll experience as we embark on a 7day/6night hike to the summit of Mt Kilimanjaro aka Africa’s Rooftop. This adventure will fi nish January 3 with a once in a lifetime experience. You’ll share the excitement with the Mulala Village as their new water well is unveiled. DISCOVER THE MAGIC OF AFRICA’S GARDEN OF EDEN December 27, 2015 - January 3, 2016 $4,495.00 per person double occupancy* (Single room supplement $589.50)** The Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater aka Africa’s Garden of Eden are two World Heritage sites you’ll discover on your journey in Tanzania. A Massai Village and the Olduvai Museum are two other exciting stops you’ll make. This adventure will fi nish January 3 with a once in a lifetime experience when the new Mulala Village water well is unveiled. Offering custom adventures, rare as the black giraffe! Book your tour today. Contact brian@blackgiraffeadventures.com Download our brochure at http://blackgiraffeadventures.com/trip/download-new-brochure/ www.facebook.com/blackgiraffedancingadventures *Airfare is not included in price. **Supplement is for hotel rooms only. Only 2 person tents will be available for hike (single person tents not permitted). www.facebook.com/blackgiraffedancingadventures www.facebook.com/blackgiraffedancingadventures (602) 321-5540

salon SANDOVAL 3703 east indian school phoenix, az 85018 602.957.9910 www.salonsandoval.com ©Aveda Corp. Dad makes a difference in your life. MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN HIS. Father’s Day is June 21. Give aveda men pure-performanceTM soothing care for men’s hair, scalp and skin paired with a gift card. It’s a great way to show Dad you care – and that’s what Father’s Day is all about. Page 47 June 2015 By Kindra Hall We’re considering a remodel. And while we are still at the beginning of the process, problems have already emerged. Namely, which child will get what bedroom? The kids aren’t fighting about it; they’re 4 and 2 1/2 years old. It’s Michael. As we poured over the plans for the house like the Goonies examined their treasure map, I happened to ponder aloud, “What kid should get which room?” Without a breath of hesitation Michael stated, “Whichever window is harder to sneak out of goes to the girl.” I laughed. Our daughter is still in a crib, clearly not a flight risk. “That girl is going to be serious trouble,” he said, nary a hint of humor in his voice. “I need to build precaution into the walls and windows of this place. Might as well include ‘daughter-proofing’ as a line item sooner than later.” “There goes my double oven,” I mumbled. I thought about Michael’s concern later that afternoon and recalled the home I grew up in. It was on 10 acres of rural Minnesota land. My room had three windows, one of which was accessible by standing on a large PVC pipe that protruded from the wall just beneath it. Of course, that didn’t mean much to me…at least not until Danny Matz. Danny Matz and I were in the same grade and from as far back as anyone could remember Danny Matz was the epitome of cool. I don’t know how or why he became so cool. Maybe some kids are just born with the cool gene. Or maybe when they walk into kindergarten they get tapped with a popularity wand while the rest of us are funneled unwittingly to the carpet for story time. Even now, I see Danny on Facebook from time to time (not often though – because that wouldn’t be very cool) and he’s still got it. Innate coolness. I, on the other hand, was your quintessential not-cool kid. I was fashion challenged. (I didn’t own a single pair of jeans – they felt icky on my legs.) I was slightly eccentric and inherently odd. Fortunately, I was more or less oblivious to my shortcomings through much of elementary school and into junior high. My parents magically cracked the “teach your kids healthy self-esteem code” and I was pretty OK just being me. Though, as high school approached I found myself wishing to be different – or, less different, rather. I found myself longing to be the kind of girl Danny Matz would notice. Then one day, he did. I was staying after school for speech practice and was in the common area trying to get a soda from the vending machine that wouldn’t take my dollar, when Danny walked in – followed by his band of merry men. They were laughing about cool guy things as they lined up at the machine behind me. Suddenly feeling very self- conscious about the wrinkled nature of my dollar bill, I stepped to the side, sodaless. Danny then approached the sugar-filled tower and dropped three quarters in the slot. Tiny red lights danced to life alongside his various beverage options. I watched him choose Welch’s Grape. (“He is perfect,” I whispered to myself). Suddenly, Danny turned his head my direction. (Shoot! Did I say that out loud?!). Timidly I met his glance; his eyes were so, so green. Before I could move or speak – or faint – Danny took a step in my direction. “Want a sip?” he asked. I stared at him. Speechless for the first time, ever. He asked me again, opening the can and holding it out to me. I looked to Danny. I looked to his football-playing buddies who appeared as shocked as I was. Was this a trick? “Just have some,” and he placed the fresh, cold can of Welch’s Grape Soda in my hand. I took a sip and handed it back. He took a sip. “I’ve got your germs now. It’s kinda like we kissed…” He smiled. We were going-together by the end of the week. Danny and I proceeded to break up and get back together no fewer than 50 times between 1994 and 1999. We passed notes and gave cold shoulders. He escorted me to Homecoming dances and broke my heart when he left with different girls. I got even by dating his best friend(s)…all of them. But even through all the nonsense, I owed Danny. I felt the ripple effect of that single sip of Welch’s soda for the duration of my adolescent years. Danny liked me just as I was and that was all I needed – as if I had been granted some strange, unnatural permission to be myself while everyone was trying to be someone else. His acceptance became my greatest asset. And then one spring night our senior year, I was able to return the favor. It was well after 10 p.m. when I heard a tap-tap-tap on the glass of my bedroom window. Even in the darkness, I could see the glowing green eyes of Danny Matz. He was standing on the PVC pipe and asked through the glass, “Can I come in?” I thought allowing a boy through my window in the middle of the night was probably a bad idea, so I motioned him in the front door. We tiptoed to my bedroom, undetected. We lay down, side-by-side in my twin-sized bed – staring silently at a ceiling we couldn’t see. And right around the time two crazy teenagers would commence the behavior that makes fathers want to double the remodel budget for daughter-proofing, Danny started talking. He talked about his mother; a woman in the fight for her life against cancer. Danny was scared. He was sad. He was confused. He was angry. Several nights he came to my window. For 20 minutes or two hours – I wasn’t sure – we would lie there. He talked, uncomfortable about the deluge of uncool things he likely hadn’t shared with anyone else; I listened, keeping his feelings safe. It was in those quiet, vulnerable nights with the boy who shared a sip of his soda, that I discovered what true friendship was: the rare gift of being fully yourself, stripped of any genetic, granted or perceived coolness, and knowing you’re good enough. I know the world is a much different place now; that social media and social pressures have changed since the turn of the most recent century. However, part of me still hopes, as my daughter grows into the woman she will become, that she has those real, precious, safe moments of friendship where she is loved and loves in return. If that involves an occasional tap on the window, then so be it. How sneaking through window became lesson in friendship GIRL NEXT DOOR