Noy is a little bit of everything. She is an athlete, a cook and a mechanic. She’s the Pencils of Promise Laos Country Coordinator, a fearless advocate of education and a devout lover of hip-hop.  She is strong, defiant, and believes the future and progress of our world lies with the empowerment of women. And she makes the meanest bowl of phở you’ll ever find.

Noy and I talk about the celebration of International Women’s Day (IWD) over some coffee and sweet milk this morning. It’s a national holiday here in Laos so offices close, restaurants shut-up early and rest is mandatory.

She tells me that it’s a day for women to be pampered, served and thanked by the men in their lives for all they do. It’s also a day to honor women past, present and future who continually work towards the realization of equal rights across the globe; a day to think forward in our development and the promise we hold.

Noy says that today she is proud. She is proud to be a woman and she is proud to be a part of PoP. She says that the work PoP does, and the work each community we partner with does, is what IWD is all about. That by bridging the cultural, economic and social differences in our world and bringing education to each and every person, we are ensuring the future of our women.

When our mugs are empty and our bellies warm, I ask Noy what she’ll do to celebrate today with her mother, aunt and grandmother. She laughs at me and says, “We don’t need men here! Today we take care of us.”

So tonight, three generations of women will come together to cook, eat and talk.  They’ll honor one another, themselves and women throughout the world.

The kids of Pha Theung are out of school for the day, free to play just a while before going home to prepare meals, look after siblings, clean the house. Our languages don’t mesh well enough for us to have conversations–we fall short after a few words and settle with laughing, passing snacks around, and looking at one another.

But here, where our lives, languages, and cultures couldn’t be more different, we have one way of communication in common: the language of play.

With some help from Kua and Vuan, two seventh graders, I rally us all together in a circle. We hold hands, the growing group of us, ages 3 to twenty-four, and take steps back and fold down onto our knees.

I don’t know the Lao words for duck and goose, so I improvise. Cai, Cai, Cai-poo!, I say, ‘chicken, chicken rooster!’

I stand up, twenty-five sets of eyes on me, and start walking around the circle. I tap each child on the shoulder, being careful to avoid touching heads, a holy part of the body, in this Buddhist culture. Boua, 7, perches up on his heels and smirks at me. ‘Cai, cai, cai cai..’ I chant slowly, ‘Cai-poo!’

Boua is up in an instant, chasing me fiercly around the circle, now raucous with laughter.

I barely escape his speedy steps and slide in to the open spot in the group. ‘Oh, dee-lai!’ he says, patting me on the back. Very good.

We play again and again, chants of ‘chicken, chicken, rooster’ filling our group, until slowly, one at a time, they start to leave. Parents are coming back in from the rice fields and it’s time to get home.

It ends with just Boua and I. I tell him that he’s very fast, the fastest seven-year-old I’ve ever seen! He pats me on the back again, with the warmth and reassurance of someone much older.

And this is how we learn: Interacting, exploring, running, using our motor skills, coordination and language.

It may be hard for us to communicate at times, but we have this secret, international language of play, learning and education. Something that is uniquely ours, for every single one of us, and continues to benefit us all: Education.

Photo credit: Nick Onken

Click here to give some love and some good this Valentine’s Day.

When you first see Kua, she’s at the blackboard, the teacher admiring her work. She’s sporting a baseball cap and t-shirt with her school skirt and is undoubtedly smiling.

When they break for lunch, her classmates fall into a familiar stride behind their friend and leader. Kua knows everybody in Pha Theung school and village.

And everybody knows Kua. She is a confident, intelligent and friendly female who loves her village and her school.

As they file out the door, she announces to all of them that they’re going to take the falang, you, down to the river.

On the muddy bank of the Nam Ou, she unties her skirt to wear the basketball shorts underneath, more practical boating attire.

She helps you in the boat, her hand in yours. As your hand dips in the river she says, ‘nam,’ the Lao word for water then looks to you. ‘Water.’ She repeats again and again, rolling the new sounds through her mouth and quickly mastering them.

Out on the river Kua, who is 13-years-old, tells you in Lao, English and body language that she’ll be taking you home and making you lunch.  She says she loves you to see her village.

As a prominent young female in her village, Kua is proud to be a part of Pencils of Promise.

Kua is Pencils of Promise. A young mind, excited to learn, empowering herself and everyone around her.

Photo Credit: Nick Onken

If we win the $1MM grand prize in the Chase Giving competition on Facebook this week, we will dedicate at least $100,000 towards projects to support youth in Haiti, and the Top 5 PoP Star Referrers and one PoP superfan will get the choice between VIP Justin Bieber tickets or a free flight to help us build a new school in a country of impact. Every person, with just the click of the button, can make a difference.

1- Vote at PencilsOfPromise.org/Vote

2- Register for a PoP Star username at PencilsOfPromise.org to get your Personal Action Kit. Then refer friends to become a Top 5 Referrer and win those tickets or flight.

3- Dedicate your status and profile pic to PoP from Jan 15-22nd.

Together we can win the $1M and support children in need of education across the world.

Email questions@pencilsofpromise.org if you need any help from our team.

We’d like you to meet Jai. He’s four years old, and he loves him some drawing. And writing. And coloring.

Jai is one of our first students. But he’s about to become one of many. You’ve been asking “How can I help?” It’s simple. Join the movement we’re about to create.

“This night is really about a growing movement of young people coming together as volunteers to demonstrate that through passion and commitment you can make big things happen” said founder Adam Braun.

“We just won $25,000 on Facebook because each of you clicked a button. There isn’t a single other nonprofit that is more representative of this Facebook generation than Pencils of Promise. Tonight let’s have a good time, because tomorrow we get to start proving it by creating a campaign to win $1M in Round 2 and build 50-100 more schools.”

The 2nd Annual Pencils of Promise Masquerade Ball was hosted at The Xchange in New York City on Friday night, where hundreds of young professionals joined the PoP team to celebrate the completion of our third school in just over a year of existence.

Attendees were greeted with a 32 photo exhibition by photographer Nick Onken visually displaying our story, impact, and portraits of many of our students in Laos. Drawings from the children were provided to classroom for a day sponsors and silent auction item winners.

In this one evening enough money was raised to build at least two more schools in the coming year. Many thanks to our entire volunteer staff, organizers Adam Tichaur & Matt Boras, and all who attended!

The evening was sponsored by Benjamin Catering, Johnnie Walker, BBH, Print International, thelab, Lagunitas Brewing Company, Dogfish Head Ale, The Brown University Club and more.

Through the support of our core team, long-time supporters like Justin Bieber, Asher Roth, Scooter Braun and a massive blogging collective, we recently won $25K through Facebook! This will be used to build two more schools for the children in communities that need it most.

From January 15-22nd, we’ll have a chance to win $1,000,000 on Facebook. Please sign up below to receive your top secret Personal Organizer’s Kit and let’s make this happen!

Across the river, up the hill, and I reach for Noy’s arm. We are at the only high school option in Champet, the province’s poorest district just off the Mekong river in Laos.

Hundreds of kids are huddled in masses around their bamboo huts—a shantytown of teens. Noy Keosuvan, our Lao PoP Coordinator, looks like she may cry. We grasp arms for a moment as we take it all in.

The girls are bashful when we look inside their huts. Packed in four to a bed they sleep together, cook on the dirt over a small fire and lack any clean water or means to sanitation.

They built these ‘homes’ themselves at the beginning of the school year.  Every Monday they leave their villages and walk upwards of four hours to spend the week here.

Here: without their families, their privacy, their safety.

A teacher at the secondary school tells us it is very important that these girls are given a dormitory of their own. When we ask why he lowers his head and locks his eyes on the ground. “Because bad things happen. Very bad things.”

At the start of each school week, hundreds of girls from faraway villages have to choose between their personal safety and their education. For them, though, the choice is obvious.

The only way to personal empowerment, agency, and ability is through this education. The safety they will have to forgo.

We ask many girls if they would like a place of their own to live—a dormitory for only females. Smiles explode onto their meek faces with eager yeses. They say they want a place where they are safe, where they aren’t scared at night.

The perseverance, potential and pride in these females is astounding. Given the opportunity, they will be the leaders of this community. With a dorm of their own, they won’t have to worry about their safety and health. They will have access to good hygiene and sanitation—invaluable skills that they can pass down through their school and villages.

They will have access to an education that isn’t dangerous, an education that will empower them and the future generations for many years to come.

We are going to build a sustainable dormitory and library for these 200 girls in Champhet. Click here to help us make this a reality. 100% of your donated dollars will go towards this project. Thank you for your support.

-Written by PoP Country Director Leslie Engle following a visit to Champhet with Lao Coordinator Noy Keosuvan, Photographer Nick Onken and PoP Founder Adam Braun.

I look at Adam, sitting cross-legged next to me. “I’ll eat your face if you drink my lao lao.”

He looks down at the boiled chicken head in his hands. “Deal.”

We are in Phayong village, the site of our second and third schools, celebrating their completion. To show their thanks, the village elders and provincial officials have invited us to participate in a basii ceremony, a traditional Lao offering of good luck and good health. Sok dii.

The room is dark and packed with village elders—their faces dark, stoic, smiling. We sit around a small table covered in cups of lao lao (homebrewed rice whisky) chicken pieces, bananas and sweet potatoes. As we hold out our hands, they speak in a low, melodic Lao and fill our palms with food.

The leader of the ceremony knows some English and translates bits for us. He says they are thanking us for the school and wishing us many blessing in all we do. He tells us to set down our food (a key opportunity to tuck away chicken heads), and motions to hold out hands at chest level, palms up.

The room fills with a slow murmur of Lao chanting. Though we don’t know the translation, the deeply felt tone fills us all. With hands out and palms up, the village elders reach for our wrists. They look in our eyes and offer their blessings. We are surrounded by them; our wrists pulling gently in every direction. Every elder ties a white string to each of our wrists while they speak with heads down and voices low.

The gratitude and intimacy of their voices, these strings, makes my breathing shallow and my heart beat quicken. I look at Adam, his face deep in absorption of this moment, and tell him I will need a huge hug when this is over.

When all the strings are gone and our wrists are covered, everyone sits to eat and we celebrate the new preschool and primary school of this village, for these compassionate and amazing people. My palms are sweating still from the intensity of it all.

We raise glasses of lao lao, look at one another, and cheers with each person. Good luck, sok dii.