As we celebrate the incarnation of our Lord, let us proclaim the hope He brings, and let us pray for its consummation:
"No more let sins and sorrows grow
Nor thorns infest the ground
He comes to make His blessings known
Far as the Curse is found
Far as the Curse is found
Far as, far as the Curse is found"
-Isaac Watts, 1719
Monday, December 24, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
Music to My Ears
My friend Kevin Duplechin is getting married on December 29 to Erin Peters of Colleyville, T
X, and I cannot wait to stand by their side as they exchange their sacred vows. They met at Oral Roberts University in Tulsa, OK, and they now both live in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex. Kevin teaches middle school math in the Keller I.S.D., and Erin is completing her undergraduate English degree at Dallas Baptist University, where she'll graduate from in May '08. They are a class act, and I'm very excited to see where the Lord takes them as they journey through life as one flesh.
The reason I bring this up is that Erin is an incredible singer/songwriter, and a sample of three songs that she performed live at Logon Cafe in Beaumont, TX are available for a limited time to listen to and download. Act fast, as the songs will be up for a limited time only.
The first one ("Realize") is a Colbie Caillat cover, and the last two are originals. I am personally enthralled with "Righteous" at the moment.
Follow this link:
http://www.logoncafe.net/download/
X, and I cannot wait to stand by their side as they exchange their sacred vows. They met at Oral Roberts University in Tulsa, OK, and they now both live in the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex. Kevin teaches middle school math in the Keller I.S.D., and Erin is completing her undergraduate English degree at Dallas Baptist University, where she'll graduate from in May '08. They are a class act, and I'm very excited to see where the Lord takes them as they journey through life as one flesh.The reason I bring this up is that Erin is an incredible singer/songwriter, and a sample of three songs that she performed live at Logon Cafe in Beaumont, TX are available for a limited time to listen to and download. Act fast, as the songs will be up for a limited time only.
The first one ("Realize") is a Colbie Caillat cover, and the last two are originals. I am personally enthralled with "Righteous" at the moment.
Follow this link:
http://www.logoncafe.net/download/
Monday, December 3, 2007
Land of a Thousand Avocados
This post, though short, will be very sweet and is dedicated to my friend Amy Ballard, who I think of every time I see or eat an avocado.
A couple hours ago, I stood below the tree in our front yard catching avocados in a box as Xavier, our night guard, dropped them to me from high up in the tree. Avocados sell for about 10 cents a piece in the local market, but today, we laid our hands on 151 for nothing but the cost--nay, the enjoyment--of climbing up in the tree and knocking them down.
A few weeks prior to this escapade, we had another round of avocado harvesting, only then it was me up in the tree. It was a truly exotic experience, and one that you might fantasize about if you were in an equatorial climate. At least I did.
I would promise to shimmy up one last time before I leave to fetch some for the ride home, but I've heard there are some pretty staunch rules against transporting fruit into the US from Africa. I'll do what I can, but if I end up in Guantanamo, they might spoil before I get to
Texas, and there's really nothing I can do about that.
A couple hours ago, I stood below the tree in our front yard catching avocados in a box as Xavier, our night guard, dropped them to me from high up in the tree. Avocados sell for about 10 cents a piece in the local market, but today, we laid our hands on 151 for nothing but the cost--nay, the enjoyment--of climbing up in the tree and knocking them down.
A few weeks prior to this escapade, we had another round of avocado harvesting, only then it was me up in the tree. It was a truly exotic experience, and one that you might fantasize about if you were in an equatorial climate. At least I did.
I would promise to shimmy up one last time before I leave to fetch some for the ride home, but I've heard there are some pretty staunch rules against transporting fruit into the US from Africa. I'll do what I can, but if I end up in Guantanamo, they might spoil before I get to
Texas, and there's really nothing I can do about that.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Disclaimer
I realize I've been using more superlative statements than I remember using in the States. I apologize for this. I am pretty sure that all my extreme descriptions have been accurate according to my memory. I think my reasons for using such language stem from my inability to truly transfer these experiences I'm having through the blogosphere to you, the reader. The last thing I want, though, is for my words and stories to become less meaningful because of the overuse of hyperbolic language to describe events and experiences. So please take these superlatives with a grain of salt, knowing that a much fuller explanation would require time I do not have and cyber storage space I don't think Blogspot would be willing to give me.
Here's a picture of me in front of a lake that contains hippos. Happy Holidays!
Here's a picture of me in front of a lake that contains hippos. Happy Holidays!
Adventures in Economic Development Observing
In the time since Nov. 5 (the last day I posted), there's been a lot happening. Here are a couple of things:
PPPMER Expedition
Since I've been helping Tom develop a marketing strategy for some of these rural micro-enterprises FH is working with, I've gotten a chance to travel out into the countryside and visit some of these businesses to see what it is exactly they do and how exactly they do it, just to get a better picture of what we're working with. Our marketing strategy at this point deals solely with handicrafts, as that makes up a huge chunk of the businesses we work with, but a couple weeks ago I got to Mushushiro to survey some businesses, and I saw quite a spectrum.
Daniel, the FH liaison between the businesses in the PPPMER program and the government, took us about thirty minutes north of Gitarama, where we spent a couple hours walking up and down this one dirt road in the town, stopping in various places to speak to the workers of some of these businesses. I'll try to recount them as best I can:
We stopped at a metalworkers' shop, where men walked barefoot around a blazing fire that was being fanned continually to heat flat pieces of metal which were then hammered and molded into door hinges. We also went to a couple of tailoring and knitting shops, one of which was owned by a woman who had been tailoring for twenty years and started a training/mentoring program, and she now takes a number of girls under her wing for a few months at a time to train them in the ways of hemming, sewing, and living. As we stood in her shop, I didn't understand a word she said, but she definitely commanded the respect and affection of all the girls who worked for her. She exuded an ease of mind and a confidently loving, engaging spirit that has been far too rare in my time here. There was also a barbershop and a bakery on our rounds. The barber offered us only information, but the baker gave us each a fresh-baked donut (pretty much a huge donut hole with no sugar) which was delicious to my palate. We also met a cooperative that makes fruit bowls for an exporter that sells to Macy's. They get about $6 for a bowl that sells on the Macy's website for $40. They require three days to make, so the ladies in this cooperative are pulling in $2 a day, which is about $1.25 better than the average Rwandan.
After spending much of the morning at businesses within walking distance to one another, we hopped in our truck and headed out in search of more micro-enterprises. I rode in the back of the truck, partly because we needed to make room in the cab, and mainly because I hadn't ridden the back of a truck in a really long time and it was awesome. As we were driving along the tarmac that wove through the hills and provided breathtaking vistas around almost every curve, I noticed people in the cab pointing up towards one of the hills we were approaching. I had no clue what was going on. By their persistence in pointing, I thought it was either a lion, an elephant, or the hill where Daniel grew up. Turns out it was none of those. The advisor was pointing out the path that led to another business that we were to meet and greet. We pulled off to the side of the road, got out of the truck and started walking up this small mountain. The trail that we trekked is a typical characteristic of Rwandan hillsides, but I never thought I would get to actually see where they went. This was a treat indeed.
As we walked up, a group of kids on an adjacent hill saw us and started absolutely freaking out, yelling for us to come over there. You could kind of tell that these paths were not trod by white feet very often. After about fifteen minutes, the trail passed under a grove of banana trees and flattened a bit, passed some houses and took a sharp curve to the right to reveal a small compound of two or three mud-brick buildings and some stalls for cows. As we approached the first building, the smell of pineapple began to overwhelm the air, and as we stepped into the doorway, we were slapped with the pungent scent of fermentation......a pineapple wine factory high on a rural hillside in the Rwandan countryside. This remains perhaps the most epic of my experiences in Rwanda thus far. The lady who started the factory lost her arm a few years ago in a car accident, which precluded her from working adequately in the field, where 85% of Rwandans work, so she came up with the idea to start a pineapple wine business. She now employs 17 people on that hillside, which is probably the majority of working adults in the immediate area. They produce 1900 liters of wine per month and sell it all over Rwanda. I got to see the whole process, from the washing of the pineapples, to the cutting, to the squeezing, to the filtering, to the mixing with (pre-boiled) water, to the adding of sorghum, to the pouring in barrels for fermentation for anywhere from 2 weeks to a year. It was a fascinating experience. It made me want to scrap the rest of my internship and whatever would come next and move up to that hillside to spend the rest of my days growing a beard, eating bananas, and making pineapple wine with this quaint little community. Maybe someday...
PDP (Pork Development Project)
slightly less exciting, though probably much more significant for the development of Rwanda's rural economy, was the ribbon-cutting of Rwanda Meat Suppliers (RMS), the FH orchestrated pork-processing plant and meat distributer, the first of its kind in the whole of Rwanda. The ceremony was attended by a few big-shots in the government, including the Secretary General of the Ministry of Commerce. There are still a couple of things to be lined out before the first pig is slaughtered for business, but the government has pledged its full support for this project, as it is basically starting the meat processing industry in Rwanda. Dwight Jackson, FH-Rwanda Country Director, estimates that 1500-1800 families will directly benefit from RMS once it is fully established and functioning.
We did have some pork at the ribbon-cutting, and it was probably the most delicious specimen of "other white meat" that I have personally ever had. And I made sure it was cooked adequately, so I won't be coming home with a Trichinella in my stomach...I hope.
PPPMER Expedition
Since I've been helping Tom develop a marketing strategy for some of these rural micro-enterprises FH is working with, I've gotten a chance to travel out into the countryside and visit some of these businesses to see what it is exactly they do and how exactly they do it, just to get a better picture of what we're working with. Our marketing strategy at this point deals solely with handicrafts, as that makes up a huge chunk of the businesses we work with, but a couple weeks ago I got to Mushushiro to survey some businesses, and I saw quite a spectrum.
Daniel, the FH liaison between the businesses in the PPPMER program and the government, took us about thirty minutes north of Gitarama, where we spent a couple hours walking up and down this one dirt road in the town, stopping in various places to speak to the workers of some of these businesses. I'll try to recount them as best I can:
We stopped at a metalworkers' shop, where men walked barefoot around a blazing fire that was being fanned continually to heat flat pieces of metal which were then hammered and molded into door hinges. We also went to a couple of tailoring and knitting shops, one of which was owned by a woman who had been tailoring for twenty years and started a training/mentoring program, and she now takes a number of girls under her wing for a few months at a time to train them in the ways of hemming, sewing, and living. As we stood in her shop, I didn't understand a word she said, but she definitely commanded the respect and affection of all the girls who worked for her. She exuded an ease of mind and a confidently loving, engaging spirit that has been far too rare in my time here. There was also a barbershop and a bakery on our rounds. The barber offered us only information, but the baker gave us each a fresh-baked donut (pretty much a huge donut hole with no sugar) which was delicious to my palate. We also met a cooperative that makes fruit bowls for an exporter that sells to Macy's. They get about $6 for a bowl that sells on the Macy's website for $40. They require three days to make, so the ladies in this cooperative are pulling in $2 a day, which is about $1.25 better than the average Rwandan.
After spending much of the morning at businesses within walking distance to one another, we hopped in our truck and headed out in search of more micro-enterprises. I rode in the back of the truck, partly because we needed to make room in the cab, and mainly because I hadn't ridden the back of a truck in a really long time and it was awesome. As we were driving along the tarmac that wove through the hills and provided breathtaking vistas around almost every curve, I noticed people in the cab pointing up towards one of the hills we were approaching. I had no clue what was going on. By their persistence in pointing, I thought it was either a lion, an elephant, or the hill where Daniel grew up. Turns out it was none of those. The advisor was pointing out the path that led to another business that we were to meet and greet. We pulled off to the side of the road, got out of the truck and started walking up this small mountain. The trail that we trekked is a typical characteristic of Rwandan hillsides, but I never thought I would get to actually see where they went. This was a treat indeed.
As we walked up, a group of kids on an adjacent hill saw us and started absolutely freaking out, yelling for us to come over there. You could kind of tell that these paths were not trod by white feet very often. After about fifteen minutes, the trail passed under a grove of banana trees and flattened a bit, passed some houses and took a sharp curve to the right to reveal a small compound of two or three mud-brick buildings and some stalls for cows. As we approached the first building, the smell of pineapple began to overwhelm the air, and as we stepped into the doorway, we were slapped with the pungent scent of fermentation......a pineapple wine factory high on a rural hillside in the Rwandan countryside. This remains perhaps the most epic of my experiences in Rwanda thus far. The lady who started the factory lost her arm a few years ago in a car accident, which precluded her from working adequately in the field, where 85% of Rwandans work, so she came up with the idea to start a pineapple wine business. She now employs 17 people on that hillside, which is probably the majority of working adults in the immediate area. They produce 1900 liters of wine per month and sell it all over Rwanda. I got to see the whole process, from the washing of the pineapples, to the cutting, to the squeezing, to the filtering, to the mixing with (pre-boiled) water, to the adding of sorghum, to the pouring in barrels for fermentation for anywhere from 2 weeks to a year. It was a fascinating experience. It made me want to scrap the rest of my internship and whatever would come next and move up to that hillside to spend the rest of my days growing a beard, eating bananas, and making pineapple wine with this quaint little community. Maybe someday...
PDP (Pork Development Project)
slightly less exciting, though probably much more significant for the development of Rwanda's rural economy, was the ribbon-cutting of Rwanda Meat Suppliers (RMS), the FH orchestrated pork-processing plant and meat distributer, the first of its kind in the whole of Rwanda. The ceremony was attended by a few big-shots in the government, including the Secretary General of the Ministry of Commerce. There are still a couple of things to be lined out before the first pig is slaughtered for business, but the government has pledged its full support for this project, as it is basically starting the meat processing industry in Rwanda. Dwight Jackson, FH-Rwanda Country Director, estimates that 1500-1800 families will directly benefit from RMS once it is fully established and functioning.
We did have some pork at the ribbon-cutting, and it was probably the most delicious specimen of "other white meat" that I have personally ever had. And I made sure it was cooked adequately, so I won't be coming home with a Trichinella in my stomach...I hope.
Friday, November 23, 2007
TIA (Thanksgiving In Africa)
7:00am: Met at the starting line for the 1st Annual Kigali Turkey Trot 5k Fun Run/Walk benefiting our longing for some familiar Thanksgiving tradition. The air was cool and the sun was conveniently hidden behind the early morning clouds, providing the perfect running conditions. I really kicked it into overdrive for the last 150 yards or so. I passed two people like they were standing still, but as I neared the finish line, I could hear the approaching footsteps of the very petite 7th grade girl that I left breathing my exhaust. Not good. There was a crowd of probably forty people at the finish line who saw this girl catch up and pass me just before I crossed the finish line. I blame loss on my bad knee and the fact that I started my final push too soon. But do I regret it? Not in this life. As the man himself, Steve Prefontaine said, "I don't just go out there and run. I like to give people watching something exciting." In that case, mission accomplished.
I ended up with a time of 38:13, which does seem a little high for one who survived the militant off-season regime of Coach Les Johnson during my Junior High football playing days. It turns out that the course was actually 6.5k, which doesn't make my time a lot better, but it is a bit redeeming, considering the fact that I've run twice in the past five months and Kigali is about a mile above sea level.
The event was organized by a couple of people in our office, and around thirty people participated, all Americans from FH and some students and faculty from the international school that shares our office space. There were plenty of spectators throughout the race, but they were mostly banana salesmen and people tending roadside gardens with babies strapped to their backs. Not your typical long-distance fans, but the jeers and cheers were appreciated all the same.
11:00am: Rode with two over-packed carloads of Americans to Circle Sportiff, a sports complex in Kigali with a relatively nice soccer field, to help ease the jonesing for american football by playing some ourselves. We met some other Americans stationed in Kigali and had a grand 'ol time. For all you skeptics of the far-reaching capacity of the Aggie network, I met my first Ol' Ag in Rwanda, Jamie class of '04, and talk immediately went to the disappointment of the Aggies' season and the utter inability of Fran to coach the team. I guess someone heard us...
5:00pm: Arrived at the American Club with Jen & Seng, where we joined at least 150 other Americans for a delicious Thanksgiving meal, complete with turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, brown gravy and pumpkin pie. It was phenomenal. Jamie sat at our table, along with some other Americans we've met and gotten to know over the past couple months, and we talked a lot about the Aggie Spirit, the die-hard dedication of being a Boston Red Sox fan, and about the awesomeness of Texas. It definitely made me proud to be an American.
That pretty much sums up my Thanksgiving day. It was the most tiring Thanksgiving I've ever had, as I never had run in a Turkey Trot or played an really intense game of football (aside from those throw-arounds on the #-th green in the backyard of Aunt Carmel's house) on Thanksgiving. In some ways, it was a new experience of American culture for me. And it only took 23 years and 8,000 miles.
I ended up with a time of 38:13, which does seem a little high for one who survived the militant off-season regime of Coach Les Johnson during my Junior High football playing days. It turns out that the course was actually 6.5k, which doesn't make my time a lot better, but it is a bit redeeming, considering the fact that I've run twice in the past five months and Kigali is about a mile above sea level.
The event was organized by a couple of people in our office, and around thirty people participated, all Americans from FH and some students and faculty from the international school that shares our office space. There were plenty of spectators throughout the race, but they were mostly banana salesmen and people tending roadside gardens with babies strapped to their backs. Not your typical long-distance fans, but the jeers and cheers were appreciated all the same.
11:00am: Rode with two over-packed carloads of Americans to Circle Sportiff, a sports complex in Kigali with a relatively nice soccer field, to help ease the jonesing for american football by playing some ourselves. We met some other Americans stationed in Kigali and had a grand 'ol time. For all you skeptics of the far-reaching capacity of the Aggie network, I met my first Ol' Ag in Rwanda, Jamie class of '04, and talk immediately went to the disappointment of the Aggies' season and the utter inability of Fran to coach the team. I guess someone heard us...
5:00pm: Arrived at the American Club with Jen & Seng, where we joined at least 150 other Americans for a delicious Thanksgiving meal, complete with turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, brown gravy and pumpkin pie. It was phenomenal. Jamie sat at our table, along with some other Americans we've met and gotten to know over the past couple months, and we talked a lot about the Aggie Spirit, the die-hard dedication of being a Boston Red Sox fan, and about the awesomeness of Texas. It definitely made me proud to be an American.
That pretty much sums up my Thanksgiving day. It was the most tiring Thanksgiving I've ever had, as I never had run in a Turkey Trot or played an really intense game of football (aside from those throw-arounds on the #-th green in the backyard of Aunt Carmel's house) on Thanksgiving. In some ways, it was a new experience of American culture for me. And it only took 23 years and 8,000 miles.
Monday, November 5, 2007
My Newest Companion
I forgot to mention that I also found a small coffee press while venturing around Kampala. I am thoroughly pleased, and I've used it no less than thrice daily since my return from Uganda.
I can get a 1/2 kilo (about 1.1 lbs) of delicious, Rwandan coffee grounds for about $5. At Starbucks in the USA a similar product would cost no less than $12, but as it turns out, I'm living just down the street (in a sense) from the farms that grow the coffee I'm drinking. How's that for an incentive to export?
Sometimes I try to make sense of what comes over me when I get to drink good coffee here. I don't think I realized my dependence on coffee until this week when I finally had unlimited access to it. Maybe I'm just trying to make up for lost time, but I really drank an exorbitant amount of coffee last week. I'm hoping that this week will bring a bit more equilibrium in my consumption.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Back with minimal scratches
I ended up staying an extra day in Kampala, returning Monday after spending Sunday hanging out with Lindsay, Andrew, Shariff, Kenny and many others who I've been incredibly impacted by this past weekend.
The Nile was pretty amazing. Even at its "source," just north of Lake Victoria, it is a few hundred yards (or meters in Africa) wide. We rafted 30 kilometers through banks of beautiful green hills, some cultivated by the waterside inhabitants, with hundreds of people seen washing clothes on the river's shore throughout our journey. During the marathon float, we went through I think eleven named rapids, at least three of them class 5, and we flipped our raft twice. We went down a three-meter waterfall and passed by a section called "The Dead Dutchman," named for the Dutch man who died trying to navigate it. We had carbo-crackers and a quarter of a pineapple for lunch on the raft, and I think I drank at least my eight-glasses-a-day of water straight from the river in between long stretches of calm water where my skin baked to produce a wonderful outline of a life vest by the end of the six-hour adventure. I think I'd have to say it beats almost every trip I've taken down Village Creek, except for maybe the one where Juan told Matt he was gay while alone in a canoe with him in the middle of the creek. That's a classic.
At any rate, the Nile River Expedition very easily proved to be one of the great epic experiences of my short life thus far, but it has somehow been overshadowed by the events of Friday and Sunday, which will have a much farther reaching impact on my life...
I got picked up by Lindsay on Friday morning at th FH Guest House in Kampala, and after exploring around town a bit, we headed to the village fifteen minutes away where she said lunch was being prepared in my honor.
We got there around 11:00am and were told we must wait a bit while the lunch preparations were completed. After two hours past, we decided we could wait no longer
and went into the compound of refugees, only to find everyone wearing makeshift hats out of construction paper and twine, with various phrases written on each person's hat above their name, some making perfect sense and greatly humbling me ("God has brought U for a purpose"), and some causing me to stop and cock my head with a curious smile on my face ("A friend in need is a friend in deed" and "we never met a person like you", this being before we'd ever met). They had made hats for me and Lindsay as well. Mine said "Very happy to meet you", and I couldn't tell if they were saying that to me through giving me the hat, or they were expecting me to say that to them through my wearing it.
Whichever the case, we were quickly ushered into the home of the oldest man in the small community, a small two-room place--each room about 10' x 10'--with a concrete floor and one bed, which quickly filled with at least thirteen people dishing out beans and rice and Fantas to one another, me and Lindsay receiving the first two heaping plates. Then, for the next two hours, we sat around the walls of the room, all baker's dozen of us, with two precious baby girls in the middle providing the bulk of the entertainment, laughing and talking and smiling at one another. It was a phenomenally humbling and joyous day, spent mostly with people who have come to Uganda to escape the wars and traumas in their home countries, mostly DR Congo and Burundi. They own next to nothing as far as this world is concerned, but there are some in that community who are among the richest I've ever met in the Kingdom of God.
One guy I met, Kenny, is 20 years old and a sophomore in high school. His mother and father passed away from AIDS in 2005, leaving behind him and two younger brothers. He met Lindsay and her friends in the clinic where his father was dying, and through the steadfast love shown to him, he was captured by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and has never been the same since. In him, more than anyone I have ever met, there was displayed a life embodied by the deep peace, humility and quiet contentment of one whose confidence is firmly rooted in the trustworthiness of the Son of Man, who came to seek and save what was lost.
Another guy I met was Andrew, who was abandoned by his parents when he was three and brought himself up on the streets of Kampala until his teenage years, when an older woman took him in and gave him a chance at life. He is an amazing fellow, full of life and hope and a humbling love for his friends. He is now starting secondary school at 20 and wants to be a pastor. But despite the completely redemptive story told by his life, it is still wrought with horrendous difficulties that are hard for me to wrap my mind around. One night when Lindsay, Kenny, Andrew and I went out to eat, Andrew was much quieter and less upbeat than usual. A couple days later he apologized for his off-kilter behavior and explained that for the past month or so, some men have been trying to kill him, and he was just thinking about that and it was upsetting him. I can't imagine having to live with that prospect and not having a strong base of family support to rely on.
And there is Shariff, the 17-year-old kid from a broken home who lives with Andrew and another guy in the village. He is in his second year of secondary school. We ate lunch together on Sunday, and the whole time he was asking me very in depth questions about George Bush and Bill Clinton and the Iraq War and who I was going to vote for and the state of Africa and things like that, and he seemed much more knowledgeable than me in terms of worldwide current events. It wasn't until much later in the day that I he told me he wanted to be travel the world as a journalist, fighting for freedom with his words instead of with a gun. We spent all day Sunday together, and by the end of the day, I felt like I'd known him for months because of the depth of our time together. He seemed very mature in some sense, but I could also tell very poignantly that he is still just a kid, yearning for and needing people to love and care for him and his spiritual, emotional, and physical development as a human being.
These three boys were left to fend for themselves much too early in their lives, and they struggle constantly to cope with the difficulties of life without the presence of a father or mother figure to guide and comfort them. Yet in spite of this, they have huge dreams that dwarf the hopes I have for my own life, and they appropriately make me question what I'm really putting my hope in. When I think of them, and the whole community of refugees who so graciously hosted us for lunch, my heart is filled simultaneously with immense joy and deep sorrow, as I see the peace of the firmly grounded hope they have, even in the midst of their dire present circumstances. And it is not a flighty expectation that God will simply rescue them from all their material and physical problems if they "have enough faith" or go to the right church or sing loud enough in worship. God is not a means to some other end for them. He is their end, their Comforter, and their Father. And this means that He is active in their daily lives, restoring, refining and redeeming them and their circumstances. They know that the call of Jesus is a call to die, that life is filled with uncertainty and tumult, and that Jesus didn't ask His Father to take us out of this world, but to protect from the evil one while in it(John 17:15). But they also see the call of Jesus as one producing an imperishable hope that supersedes the joys offered by this life and makes it worth living, and worth living abundantly.
And THAT was my weekend.
The Nile was pretty amazing. Even at its "source," just north of Lake Victoria, it is a few hundred yards (or meters in Africa) wide. We rafted 30 kilometers through banks of beautiful green hills, some cultivated by the waterside inhabitants, with hundreds of people seen washing clothes on the river's shore throughout our journey. During the marathon float, we went through I think eleven named rapids, at least three of them class 5, and we flipped our raft twice. We went down a three-meter waterfall and passed by a section called "The Dead Dutchman," named for the Dutch man who died trying to navigate it. We had carbo-crackers and a quarter of a pineapple for lunch on the raft, and I think I drank at least my eight-glasses-a-day of water straight from the river in between long stretches of calm water where my skin baked to produce a wonderful outline of a life vest by the end of the six-hour adventure. I think I'd have to say it beats almost every trip I've taken down Village Creek, except for maybe the one where Juan told Matt he was gay while alone in a canoe with him in the middle of the creek. That's a classic.
At any rate, the Nile River Expedition very easily proved to be one of the great epic experiences of my short life thus far, but it has somehow been overshadowed by the events of Friday and Sunday, which will have a much farther reaching impact on my life...
I got picked up by Lindsay on Friday morning at th FH Guest House in Kampala, and after exploring around town a bit, we headed to the village fifteen minutes away where she said lunch was being prepared in my honor.
We got there around 11:00am and were told we must wait a bit while the lunch preparations were completed. After two hours past, we decided we could wait no longer
and went into the compound of refugees, only to find everyone wearing makeshift hats out of construction paper and twine, with various phrases written on each person's hat above their name, some making perfect sense and greatly humbling me ("God has brought U for a purpose"), and some causing me to stop and cock my head with a curious smile on my face ("A friend in need is a friend in deed" and "we never met a person like you", this being before we'd ever met). They had made hats for me and Lindsay as well. Mine said "Very happy to meet you", and I couldn't tell if they were saying that to me through giving me the hat, or they were expecting me to say that to them through my wearing it.Whichever the case, we were quickly ushered into the home of the oldest man in the small community, a small two-room place--each room about 10' x 10'--with a concrete floor and one bed, which quickly filled with at least thirteen people dishing out beans and rice and Fantas to one another, me and Lindsay receiving the first two heaping plates. Then, for the next two hours, we sat around the walls of the room, all baker's dozen of us, with two precious baby girls in the middle providing the bulk of the entertainment, laughing and talking and smiling at one another. It was a phenomenally humbling and joyous day, spent mostly with people who have come to Uganda to escape the wars and traumas in their home countries, mostly DR Congo and Burundi. They own next to nothing as far as this world is concerned, but there are some in that community who are among the richest I've ever met in the Kingdom of God.
One guy I met, Kenny, is 20 years old and a sophomore in high school. His mother and father passed away from AIDS in 2005, leaving behind him and two younger brothers. He met Lindsay and her friends in the clinic where his father was dying, and through the steadfast love shown to him, he was captured by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ and has never been the same since. In him, more than anyone I have ever met, there was displayed a life embodied by the deep peace, humility and quiet contentment of one whose confidence is firmly rooted in the trustworthiness of the Son of Man, who came to seek and save what was lost.
Another guy I met was Andrew, who was abandoned by his parents when he was three and brought himself up on the streets of Kampala until his teenage years, when an older woman took him in and gave him a chance at life. He is an amazing fellow, full of life and hope and a humbling love for his friends. He is now starting secondary school at 20 and wants to be a pastor. But despite the completely redemptive story told by his life, it is still wrought with horrendous difficulties that are hard for me to wrap my mind around. One night when Lindsay, Kenny, Andrew and I went out to eat, Andrew was much quieter and less upbeat than usual. A couple days later he apologized for his off-kilter behavior and explained that for the past month or so, some men have been trying to kill him, and he was just thinking about that and it was upsetting him. I can't imagine having to live with that prospect and not having a strong base of family support to rely on.
And there is Shariff, the 17-year-old kid from a broken home who lives with Andrew and another guy in the village. He is in his second year of secondary school. We ate lunch together on Sunday, and the whole time he was asking me very in depth questions about George Bush and Bill Clinton and the Iraq War and who I was going to vote for and the state of Africa and things like that, and he seemed much more knowledgeable than me in terms of worldwide current events. It wasn't until much later in the day that I he told me he wanted to be travel the world as a journalist, fighting for freedom with his words instead of with a gun. We spent all day Sunday together, and by the end of the day, I felt like I'd known him for months because of the depth of our time together. He seemed very mature in some sense, but I could also tell very poignantly that he is still just a kid, yearning for and needing people to love and care for him and his spiritual, emotional, and physical development as a human being.
These three boys were left to fend for themselves much too early in their lives, and they struggle constantly to cope with the difficulties of life without the presence of a father or mother figure to guide and comfort them. Yet in spite of this, they have huge dreams that dwarf the hopes I have for my own life, and they appropriately make me question what I'm really putting my hope in. When I think of them, and the whole community of refugees who so graciously hosted us for lunch, my heart is filled simultaneously with immense joy and deep sorrow, as I see the peace of the firmly grounded hope they have, even in the midst of their dire present circumstances. And it is not a flighty expectation that God will simply rescue them from all their material and physical problems if they "have enough faith" or go to the right church or sing loud enough in worship. God is not a means to some other end for them. He is their end, their Comforter, and their Father. And this means that He is active in their daily lives, restoring, refining and redeeming them and their circumstances. They know that the call of Jesus is a call to die, that life is filled with uncertainty and tumult, and that Jesus didn't ask His Father to take us out of this world, but to protect from the evil one while in it(John 17:15). But they also see the call of Jesus as one producing an imperishable hope that supersedes the joys offered by this life and makes it worth living, and worth living abundantly.
And THAT was my weekend.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
For a Limited Time Only...
This weekend may be one of the most epic experiences of my 23.8104 years of existence, only exceeded by possibly "SD '05: Mission Make the Jenny Feel Loved," Jason Ballard's and my 48-hour long trip to South Dakota and back to see his then girlfriend (now wife); and being Kevin Duplechin's substitute flag runner for Bridge City vs Woodville my senior year of high school. The experience this weekend will offer breathtaking views of untamed nature, heart-stopping, man-making action, and an intimate mingling with the direct source of sustenance for millions of people on this continent. What will this apex of adventure, this jaw-dropping journey, this most eminent of egregious escapades, be? Why, none other than whitewater rafting the Nile River! That "world's longest river," which 4,000 years ago served graciously as baby Moses's cradle, and then eighty years later turned to blood as a display of the power of I AM and a stern warning to Pharaoh to let His people go; which, in 1858, British explorer John Hanning Speke erroneously dubbed Lake Victoria the source of; and which this weekend will play host to a dozen or so mzungus ("white person" in swahili) looking for a day of rushing adrenaline atop the rush of waters that was the life source of one of the greatest civilizations ever known to man. They say no one has ever beaten the Nile...but I tell you, my friends, this Saturday I will come as close as anyone ever has.
We'll be going to Uganda this weekend, a ten hour bus trip, to raft the river's Bujagali Falls, whose class 5 rapids will soon be the bottom of a reservoir, the result of an $800 million project underway to help solve Uganda's chronic power shortage by damming the Nile just below the falls. The situation bears slight resemblance to the Three Gorges Dam project in China on the Yangtze River that is apparently submerging one of the most incredible natural landscapes in the world, not to mention displacing over 1.3 million people and creating myriads of other environmental problems in its wake, or lack thereof. I don't know if the cons will outweigh the pros in situation in Uganda, where only 5% of the people have access to electricity, but it is at least worth mourning the loss of one of East Africa's great avenues for adventure and the only source of income for many rural poor people living in Uganda. At any rate, in 2011 the falls will be no more, which makes this weekend's experience even more valuable.
I'm going to be traveling up to Kampala tomorrow, a day before everyone else, to spend Friday visiting with Lindsay Branham, the FHI-DRC worker I hung out with a lot when I was in the Congo who is now on R&R in Uganda, and this community of refugees just outside the city that she has become very close to and spoke much of during our time together. I'm looking forward to this part of the trip as much as, if not more than, the Nile rafting. Seeing the faces and meeting some of the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven will be a tremendous experience for sure. So, if all goes as planed, or maybe more so if it doesn't, this weekend will be an adventure in many ways.
As far as everyday life in Rwanda is concerned, yesterday we got wireless internet at the Thor's house (where I'm staying) which was definitely a joyous moment, but it was poignantly countered by the departure of Seng, the patriarch of the Thor family, leaving his wife longing for his companionship and me longing for more testosterone. He'll be gone two and a half weeks to the US and Uganda for training. Last week and this week, the kids at Kigali International Community School (KICS), whose campus is connected to the FH office here, have been learning to play American football during P.E. class, and it has drawn quite a crowd of onlookers at times. It is very odd to see high school age kids learning how to play real football for the first time, and it has made me seem that much more the star athlete, as Seng and I played with them a couple of days last week.
I've been searching for a coffee press all over Kigali, and have yet to find one. I'm kicking myself for not bringing the one JBall got his groomsmen. It blows my mind that in a country whose economy is largely dependent on coffee, there is quite possibly not one non-electric coffee maker for sale. I refuse to believe it. I've seen them at the only legitimate coffee shop in Rwanda, Bourbon Coffee in Kigali, but they won't sell one to me for lack of supply. I'm still holding out hope, but it is quickly waining, and I fear I may be forced to drink Nescafe' instant stir-in coffee for the rest of my time here. That's all that is offered at the office, and I think I'm the only one who drinks it, much to the disgust of some of my coworkers (hardly any Rwandans drink coffee). And on the home front, there is not enough demand to necessitate an electric coffee-maker, so pretty much anywhere I go I'm on a coffee-loving island in a vast sea of indifference. I have had Rwandan coffee on a couple of occasions, mainly in Bourbon Coffe, and it is very nice. I'm not enough of a connaisseur to rank Rwanda's beans against the rest of the world's, but I can say definitively that if I was offered a choice between a fresh cup of Rwandan brew and a Fanta Citron, I would choose the coffee eight times out of ten, if that says anything, which it probably doesn't.
We'll be going to Uganda this weekend, a ten hour bus trip, to raft the river's Bujagali Falls, whose class 5 rapids will soon be the bottom of a reservoir, the result of an $800 million project underway to help solve Uganda's chronic power shortage by damming the Nile just below the falls. The situation bears slight resemblance to the Three Gorges Dam project in China on the Yangtze River that is apparently submerging one of the most incredible natural landscapes in the world, not to mention displacing over 1.3 million people and creating myriads of other environmental problems in its wake, or lack thereof. I don't know if the cons will outweigh the pros in situation in Uganda, where only 5% of the people have access to electricity, but it is at least worth mourning the loss of one of East Africa's great avenues for adventure and the only source of income for many rural poor people living in Uganda. At any rate, in 2011 the falls will be no more, which makes this weekend's experience even more valuable.
I'm going to be traveling up to Kampala tomorrow, a day before everyone else, to spend Friday visiting with Lindsay Branham, the FHI-DRC worker I hung out with a lot when I was in the Congo who is now on R&R in Uganda, and this community of refugees just outside the city that she has become very close to and spoke much of during our time together. I'm looking forward to this part of the trip as much as, if not more than, the Nile rafting. Seeing the faces and meeting some of the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven will be a tremendous experience for sure. So, if all goes as planed, or maybe more so if it doesn't, this weekend will be an adventure in many ways.
As far as everyday life in Rwanda is concerned, yesterday we got wireless internet at the Thor's house (where I'm staying) which was definitely a joyous moment, but it was poignantly countered by the departure of Seng, the patriarch of the Thor family, leaving his wife longing for his companionship and me longing for more testosterone. He'll be gone two and a half weeks to the US and Uganda for training. Last week and this week, the kids at Kigali International Community School (KICS), whose campus is connected to the FH office here, have been learning to play American football during P.E. class, and it has drawn quite a crowd of onlookers at times. It is very odd to see high school age kids learning how to play real football for the first time, and it has made me seem that much more the star athlete, as Seng and I played with them a couple of days last week.
I've been searching for a coffee press all over Kigali, and have yet to find one. I'm kicking myself for not bringing the one JBall got his groomsmen. It blows my mind that in a country whose economy is largely dependent on coffee, there is quite possibly not one non-electric coffee maker for sale. I refuse to believe it. I've seen them at the only legitimate coffee shop in Rwanda, Bourbon Coffee in Kigali, but they won't sell one to me for lack of supply. I'm still holding out hope, but it is quickly waining, and I fear I may be forced to drink Nescafe' instant stir-in coffee for the rest of my time here. That's all that is offered at the office, and I think I'm the only one who drinks it, much to the disgust of some of my coworkers (hardly any Rwandans drink coffee). And on the home front, there is not enough demand to necessitate an electric coffee-maker, so pretty much anywhere I go I'm on a coffee-loving island in a vast sea of indifference. I have had Rwandan coffee on a couple of occasions, mainly in Bourbon Coffe, and it is very nice. I'm not enough of a connaisseur to rank Rwanda's beans against the rest of the world's, but I can say definitively that if I was offered a choice between a fresh cup of Rwandan brew and a Fanta Citron, I would choose the coffee eight times out of ten, if that says anything, which it probably doesn't.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
General Update
I guess it's been over a week. My, how time flies in developing countries...
Last Wednesday I went to Butare, in the Southern Province of Rwanda, to help Tom (a volunteer British man here for three years) catalog some small, rural micro-enterprises that FHI is supporting and sponsoring through PPPMER (Projet pour la Promotion des Petites et Micro-Entreprises Rurales, or for you non-french 3ers, Rural Small and Micro-enterprise Promotion Project). We spent one night and a day and a half in Butare and the surrounding countryside, trying to hunt down a comprehensive list of the businesses registered with PPPMER in the districts that we're working in. We want this list in order to better assist in the marketing of their products and/or services, as most of them, as the project name would imply, are very small and in rural areas where networking and distribution is a logistical nightmare (Matt, there is probably a job for you here if nothing works out in the big-D. Linsday too; PLENTY of babies being born). This experience proved to be a very good lesson in the difficulty of obtaining essential information in Rwanda. After much uncertainty and vague directional prodding for nearly a day, we finally discovered that a list existed, but that it could not be accessed because it is, ironically, in Microsoft Access format which for some reason would not open on the computer the list is in.
We did, however, get to interview a few cooperatives of beekeepers that we're working with, to learn about their productivity and the problems they face. We met them at a workshop being conducted in association with PPPMER where they were learning how to increase their production of honey through better hive construction, increased use of fertilizer for plants to be pollinated, more efficient ways of harvesting the honey, etc. It was very interesting. The businesses are formed through Cooperatives: groups of people in the same trade who pool their resources in order to increase efficiency, productivity, and investment possibilities.
Back in Kigali on Thursday night, we found out that Friday would be a national holiday in celebration of the end of Ramadan, the Muslim holy month. So that was pretty interesting. There is around a 5% Muslim population in Rwanda, which I didn't think merited a Government-endorsed nationwide early weekend, but obviously I didn't complain too much. It was a nice, unexpected free day, full of reading, Facebooking, hanging out with fun people, market-shopping and eating Brouchettes (Skewers of delicious goat meat for about $0.50). Great combo.
It turns out that I'll be helping Tom a bit more intensely with the development of marketing for these PPPMER businesses. It should be fun and interesting. I'll try to post a more in-depth synopsis of what we're doing, maybe prompting someone to give advice or ideas ;).
I've also been learning some Kinyarwanda. I know how to say about three phrases: Mwiriwe (Good afternoon), Murakoze (Thank you), and Umuhungu arahinga (The boy is hoeing). Just enough to get my point across in most situations.
Last Wednesday I went to Butare, in the Southern Province of Rwanda, to help Tom (a volunteer British man here for three years) catalog some small, rural micro-enterprises that FHI is supporting and sponsoring through PPPMER (Projet pour la Promotion des Petites et Micro-Entreprises Rurales, or for you non-french 3ers, Rural Small and Micro-enterprise Promotion Project). We spent one night and a day and a half in Butare and the surrounding countryside, trying to hunt down a comprehensive list of the businesses registered with PPPMER in the districts that we're working in. We want this list in order to better assist in the marketing of their products and/or services, as most of them, as the project name would imply, are very small and in rural areas where networking and distribution is a logistical nightmare (Matt, there is probably a job for you here if nothing works out in the big-D. Linsday too; PLENTY of babies being born). This experience proved to be a very good lesson in the difficulty of obtaining essential information in Rwanda. After much uncertainty and vague directional prodding for nearly a day, we finally discovered that a list existed, but that it could not be accessed because it is, ironically, in Microsoft Access format which for some reason would not open on the computer the list is in.
We did, however, get to interview a few cooperatives of beekeepers that we're working with, to learn about their productivity and the problems they face. We met them at a workshop being conducted in association with PPPMER where they were learning how to increase their production of honey through better hive construction, increased use of fertilizer for plants to be pollinated, more efficient ways of harvesting the honey, etc. It was very interesting. The businesses are formed through Cooperatives: groups of people in the same trade who pool their resources in order to increase efficiency, productivity, and investment possibilities.
Back in Kigali on Thursday night, we found out that Friday would be a national holiday in celebration of the end of Ramadan, the Muslim holy month. So that was pretty interesting. There is around a 5% Muslim population in Rwanda, which I didn't think merited a Government-endorsed nationwide early weekend, but obviously I didn't complain too much. It was a nice, unexpected free day, full of reading, Facebooking, hanging out with fun people, market-shopping and eating Brouchettes (Skewers of delicious goat meat for about $0.50). Great combo.
It turns out that I'll be helping Tom a bit more intensely with the development of marketing for these PPPMER businesses. It should be fun and interesting. I'll try to post a more in-depth synopsis of what we're doing, maybe prompting someone to give advice or ideas ;).
I've also been learning some Kinyarwanda. I know how to say about three phrases: Mwiriwe (Good afternoon), Murakoze (Thank you), and Umuhungu arahinga (The boy is hoeing). Just enough to get my point across in most situations.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Attencion!
Here's the blog of a girl I spent a ton of time with in DRC. I've linked to it on the side, too. She is incredibly passionate about issues concerning the poor and disadvantaged here in Africa. I would say that the overwhelming reason for my time in Congo being beneficial was my conversations with her.
The 'Love Can Overcome Evil' entry is absolutely stunning and a necessary read for anyone who has the desire to put some flesh on the horrible atrocities occurring in Eastern DRC right now.
The 'Love Can Overcome Evil' entry is absolutely stunning and a necessary read for anyone who has the desire to put some flesh on the horrible atrocities occurring in Eastern DRC right now.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Update on Akageraland
I have been working on a musically enhanced slide show of pictures from the Akagera game reserve for a while now. I'm using iMovie HD, which is a pretty sweet program that came standard on my little Mac here. I've never made a movie before, so I'm doing a lot of exploring and playing around with the different features and stuff, which makes for slow progress on the movie itself. I'm really excited about it, though, and can't wait to share it with you guys whenever I get the whole thing lined out. Sorry Dad & Gail. You probably won't be able to view it on your computer.
The rainy season has finally come in full force. It is enchanting to experience, but it is at least a month overdue. There have also been reports of polar bears showing up on people's doorsteps asking for spare change or a piece of bread. Al Gore may be onto something here...
The rainy season has finally come in full force. It is enchanting to experience, but it is at least a month overdue. There have also been reports of polar bears showing up on people's doorsteps asking for spare change or a piece of bread. Al Gore may be onto something here...
SSL
I apologize for the barrenness of the blog these past two weeks. Here's what has been going on:
Two Tuesdays ago, I was sent to the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) to help with recruiting for some ex-pat positions that FH-DRC is trying to fill. They are very shorthanded when it comes to proficient English speakers, so I got the nod. I spent ten days setting up interviews, checking references, and compiling sweet Excel sheets (thank you Stephen Dyer for showing me how to create borders) to help streamline the hiring process, which has been going dreadfully slow up to this point. I spent all my time in Bukavu, which is closer to Rwanda than Bridge City is to Louisiana. I stayed at the Country Director's house, which is on lake front property on Lake Kivu. The view is absolutely stunning. The DRC, especially in the east, is very unstable in parts, but my whole time there I felt like I was on vacation. I met some great people and got to see another country in Africa and a little bit of the operations of FH there. It was a wonderful trip.
I arrived back in Rwanda this past Saturday and got to spend the weekend relaxing and processing my experiences, which was invaluable. But today, its back to the office in Kigali. I have plenty of work to do, some remaining from the Congo, some new stuff for here in Rwanda. I think I'm going to Butare (a town in the south of Rwanda) on Wednesday or so to do some cataloging of businesses, which should be fun.
I feel like my stay in DRC was somewhat of a rite of passage for my time here in Africa. It was very calm the whole time where I was, but it forced me to confront the fact that the problems these countries face are very real and require much thought, compassion, prayer, and humility, and time to deal with them. If learn nothing else, I think that is a valuable lesson to be learned.
Good words:
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:5
Two Tuesdays ago, I was sent to the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo) to help with recruiting for some ex-pat positions that FH-DRC is trying to fill. They are very shorthanded when it comes to proficient English speakers, so I got the nod. I spent ten days setting up interviews, checking references, and compiling sweet Excel sheets (thank you Stephen Dyer for showing me how to create borders) to help streamline the hiring process, which has been going dreadfully slow up to this point. I spent all my time in Bukavu, which is closer to Rwanda than Bridge City is to Louisiana. I stayed at the Country Director's house, which is on lake front property on Lake Kivu. The view is absolutely stunning. The DRC, especially in the east, is very unstable in parts, but my whole time there I felt like I was on vacation. I met some great people and got to see another country in Africa and a little bit of the operations of FH there. It was a wonderful trip.
I arrived back in Rwanda this past Saturday and got to spend the weekend relaxing and processing my experiences, which was invaluable. But today, its back to the office in Kigali. I have plenty of work to do, some remaining from the Congo, some new stuff for here in Rwanda. I think I'm going to Butare (a town in the south of Rwanda) on Wednesday or so to do some cataloging of businesses, which should be fun.
I feel like my stay in DRC was somewhat of a rite of passage for my time here in Africa. It was very calm the whole time where I was, but it forced me to confront the fact that the problems these countries face are very real and require much thought, compassion, prayer, and humility, and time to deal with them. If learn nothing else, I think that is a valuable lesson to be learned.
Good words:
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:5
Friday, September 21, 2007
FYI
I'm going to do my best to answer direct questions my dad and mom are dying to know.
Am I taking lots of pictures?
Not really. I've taken a couple from the back porch of the guest house that I'm staying at, and I will post some of those soon, but I'm still trying to get a feel for this place and what to carry around when I go out and stuff like that.
I am, however, going to go to Akagera National Park this weekend, where we will go on a couple of "game drives," or safaris without guns. I will definitely take pictures then. I'll try to get a good shot of a Nile Crocodile to see if they compare at all to Fido and the rest of the gang in Bridge City.
Are there other Americans or foreign nationals working with my group or with other groups?
Yes. The Country Director, Dwight Jackson, is from Illinois I think. He's got a wife and three kids here. He was a Sociology professor at Greenville College for a while, and he's been Country Director of Rwanda since 2005. He just got promoted to Regional Director of the Great Lakes Region of Africa, which includes Rwanda, Burundi, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Uganda, Kenya, and maybe some others. He's a very visionary man who knows his limits and listens well. I'm excited about working with him.
Also, there are at least five Hunger Corps members here from America right now (four stationed in Kigali and one in Gitarama), and there are a couple others from the UK in training right now who will be working in Gitarama I think. There's also a Hunger Corps girl from Switzerland coming in a couple weeks to work in Kigali. FH has a corporate office in the UK, Canada, Switzerland, and maybe some other places. This probably accounts for the high participation rate of people from those places.
There's also a professor from Greenville who's on Sabbatical right now, his wife and two kids, and an graduate school intern assisting him in some research he's conducting.
I think there may be some more people coming later.
Most of the Americans here are working in a supportive role. There are a few Rwandans in similar positions, and most of the non-administrative workers are Rwandan.
There are NGO and non-profit organization signs everywhere. The FH Guest House (where I've been staying) is on the same street as a number of other NGOs. I see USAID logos on a lot of signs. The UN is here also. I don't think they have any troops, but they're here through the High Commision on Refugees (UNHCR) and some agriculture project.
I don't know how many ex-patriots there are in Rwanda right now, but NGOs have a very prominent place here as the country confronts HIV/AIDS, poverty, and other pertinent issues.
Are there radio and television stations?
I've heard some music while riding in bus-taxis. I think mainly Swahili hip-hop, but I've heard Shania Twain is popular here as well. They don't usually have talk radio on in the taxis, if it exists.
As for television, there is one Rwandan station, and it is a hodge-podge of content from sub-par theater plays on film to BBC World News. I've also heard that the Lizzie McGuire Movie has graced the tube. I haven't found a TV Guide to figure out when any given show will be on. I think they may just draw names of shows out of a hopper to decide.
That's all for now. I've got to go to bed. This is more intense than I thought it would be.
Am I taking lots of pictures?
Not really. I've taken a couple from the back porch of the guest house that I'm staying at, and I will post some of those soon, but I'm still trying to get a feel for this place and what to carry around when I go out and stuff like that.
I am, however, going to go to Akagera National Park this weekend, where we will go on a couple of "game drives," or safaris without guns. I will definitely take pictures then. I'll try to get a good shot of a Nile Crocodile to see if they compare at all to Fido and the rest of the gang in Bridge City.
Are there other Americans or foreign nationals working with my group or with other groups?
Yes. The Country Director, Dwight Jackson, is from Illinois I think. He's got a wife and three kids here. He was a Sociology professor at Greenville College for a while, and he's been Country Director of Rwanda since 2005. He just got promoted to Regional Director of the Great Lakes Region of Africa, which includes Rwanda, Burundi, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Uganda, Kenya, and maybe some others. He's a very visionary man who knows his limits and listens well. I'm excited about working with him.
Also, there are at least five Hunger Corps members here from America right now (four stationed in Kigali and one in Gitarama), and there are a couple others from the UK in training right now who will be working in Gitarama I think. There's also a Hunger Corps girl from Switzerland coming in a couple weeks to work in Kigali. FH has a corporate office in the UK, Canada, Switzerland, and maybe some other places. This probably accounts for the high participation rate of people from those places.
There's also a professor from Greenville who's on Sabbatical right now, his wife and two kids, and an graduate school intern assisting him in some research he's conducting.
I think there may be some more people coming later.
Most of the Americans here are working in a supportive role. There are a few Rwandans in similar positions, and most of the non-administrative workers are Rwandan.
There are NGO and non-profit organization signs everywhere. The FH Guest House (where I've been staying) is on the same street as a number of other NGOs. I see USAID logos on a lot of signs. The UN is here also. I don't think they have any troops, but they're here through the High Commision on Refugees (UNHCR) and some agriculture project.
I don't know how many ex-patriots there are in Rwanda right now, but NGOs have a very prominent place here as the country confronts HIV/AIDS, poverty, and other pertinent issues.
Are there radio and television stations?
I've heard some music while riding in bus-taxis. I think mainly Swahili hip-hop, but I've heard Shania Twain is popular here as well. They don't usually have talk radio on in the taxis, if it exists.
As for television, there is one Rwandan station, and it is a hodge-podge of content from sub-par theater plays on film to BBC World News. I've also heard that the Lizzie McGuire Movie has graced the tube. I haven't found a TV Guide to figure out when any given show will be on. I think they may just draw names of shows out of a hopper to decide.
That's all for now. I've got to go to bed. This is more intense than I thought it would be.
I've spent the last few days really trying to inhale and process what my life will be like for the next three months. In doing this, I've experienced a wide spectrum of emotions and thoughts: happiness and sadness, purposefulness and purposelessness, connectedness and loneliness.
I'm still trying to figure out the balance between immersing myself in this place and remaining connected back home. I want to heed the advice of Jim Elliot, "Wherever you are, be all there," but at the same time keep up a healthy flow of interaction with you guys in the States. That's one of the things I'm working through this week.
Also, I've realised (I'm starting to really like the British spellings of words. Its how they do it here. Call me anti-American if you wish; I'm still working through the morality of endorsing it. I guess its just the testing of new, uncharted waters that is an essential part of every coming-of-age journey.) that it takes me a while to process things, and I've been processing a lot this week, which has put my mind and emotions in overdrive. So there's my excuse.
Note: when I refer to going to "town," I mean basically "downtown." I am staying in Kigali, which is the biggest city in Rwanda, but I'm a few miles from the main commercial hub, which we would call "downtown" and which Rwandans call Mumugi (pronounced "moo-MOO-gee").
We (Becky and I) went into town on Wednesday morning and walked around a bit, familiarizing ourselves more with the area and acclimating ourselves to interacting with Rwandan people. Then, in the afternoon, we had a meeting with Dwight to discuss what we will be doing for our internship. Drumroll please...
My Job
I think I'm basically going to be a Research Assistant for assessing the Business Development and economic context in which Food for the Hungry is working here in Rwanda. My goal is to gain a good understanding of the macro-economic policy of the Government, their goals and strategies for poverty alleviation and economic development, as well as any models and/or forecasts they have constructed. This research will then be used to evaluate the effectiveness and contribution of Food for the Hungry's work in Rwanda, as it pertains to the government's priorities in their strategy for poverty alleviation. This is a very important aspect of FH's work in Rwanda, because we don't want to implement projects with goals that are contrary or contrasting to what the community views as its needs, but to walk alongside churches, leaders, and families to create sustainable development. Again, we don't want to impose unnecessary projects on a community, but to simply provide resources in assisting them with confronting issues that they've pinpointed as a priority. FH has been doing this in Rwanda on a micro-level very well for a few years, but Rwanda is small enough of a country and, from what I've read so far, there is enough of a overarching strategy already formulated by the government to consider how FH's work is fitting in to the bigger picture of helping Rwanda rise out of its crippling poverty. This is the "walking with leaders" part of Food for the Hungy's mission. Its pretty cutting edge stuff, at least to me. I'm really excited about it. On Wednesday, Dwight let me speak to Alexi, one of the higher-ups in the FHI office here. He used to work for the Ministry of Commerce in the '70s I think, so he has some connections with people in the government that can hook me up with some relevant documents. So part of my work will consist of me going to the Ministry of Finance and Economic Planning and the Ministry of Commerce to hunt down documents. Pretty awesome.
And there it is. I finally have some idea as to what I'll be doing for these next three months. I've learned this week that the quality and effectiveness of this internship experience will be very dependent on my being proactive and taking lots of initiative. If you pray, please ask the Lord to help me in this area, because I do not do this naturally. Having some sort of concrete purpose does help a lot though.
I'm still trying to figure out the balance between immersing myself in this place and remaining connected back home. I want to heed the advice of Jim Elliot, "Wherever you are, be all there," but at the same time keep up a healthy flow of interaction with you guys in the States. That's one of the things I'm working through this week.
Also, I've realised (I'm starting to really like the British spellings of words. Its how they do it here. Call me anti-American if you wish; I'm still working through the morality of endorsing it. I guess its just the testing of new, uncharted waters that is an essential part of every coming-of-age journey.) that it takes me a while to process things, and I've been processing a lot this week, which has put my mind and emotions in overdrive. So there's my excuse.
Note: when I refer to going to "town," I mean basically "downtown." I am staying in Kigali, which is the biggest city in Rwanda, but I'm a few miles from the main commercial hub, which we would call "downtown" and which Rwandans call Mumugi (pronounced "moo-MOO-gee").
We (Becky and I) went into town on Wednesday morning and walked around a bit, familiarizing ourselves more with the area and acclimating ourselves to interacting with Rwandan people. Then, in the afternoon, we had a meeting with Dwight to discuss what we will be doing for our internship. Drumroll please...
My Job
I think I'm basically going to be a Research Assistant for assessing the Business Development and economic context in which Food for the Hungry is working here in Rwanda. My goal is to gain a good understanding of the macro-economic policy of the Government, their goals and strategies for poverty alleviation and economic development, as well as any models and/or forecasts they have constructed. This research will then be used to evaluate the effectiveness and contribution of Food for the Hungry's work in Rwanda, as it pertains to the government's priorities in their strategy for poverty alleviation. This is a very important aspect of FH's work in Rwanda, because we don't want to implement projects with goals that are contrary or contrasting to what the community views as its needs, but to walk alongside churches, leaders, and families to create sustainable development. Again, we don't want to impose unnecessary projects on a community, but to simply provide resources in assisting them with confronting issues that they've pinpointed as a priority. FH has been doing this in Rwanda on a micro-level very well for a few years, but Rwanda is small enough of a country and, from what I've read so far, there is enough of a overarching strategy already formulated by the government to consider how FH's work is fitting in to the bigger picture of helping Rwanda rise out of its crippling poverty. This is the "walking with leaders" part of Food for the Hungy's mission. Its pretty cutting edge stuff, at least to me. I'm really excited about it. On Wednesday, Dwight let me speak to Alexi, one of the higher-ups in the FHI office here. He used to work for the Ministry of Commerce in the '70s I think, so he has some connections with people in the government that can hook me up with some relevant documents. So part of my work will consist of me going to the Ministry of Finance and Economic Planning and the Ministry of Commerce to hunt down documents. Pretty awesome.
And there it is. I finally have some idea as to what I'll be doing for these next three months. I've learned this week that the quality and effectiveness of this internship experience will be very dependent on my being proactive and taking lots of initiative. If you pray, please ask the Lord to help me in this area, because I do not do this naturally. Having some sort of concrete purpose does help a lot though.
Monday, September 17, 2007
The Adventure Begins
Semi stream of consciousness here i come...
I am extremely jet lagged. I went to bed at 9:30pm last night, awoke at 1:30am to go pee, and couldn't go back to sleep until 5:15am, which didn't do much more than make me more tired, since i got up at 6:45 for the day.
And it has been a pretty intense one. The first day of orientation (which, as far as i understand it, consists of me and Becky (the other intern) finding out about what FHI (Food for the Hungry International) is doing in Rwanda so that we may try to fit in somewhere useful, which is a much less organized process than I first expected.) brought an overload of info into my sleep deprived mind. We started off the day in the FHI office in Kigali (Rwanda's capital). There we participated in the morning staff devotional led by someone who spoke in Kinyarwanda (the native language). It was very interesting. Then, Becky and I got into a conversation with Jim, a professor of psychology at Greenville College who is on sebbatical here in Rwanda with his family. He is doing some research for Dwight (the country director) to help quantify the real impact that FHI's projects are bringing about in the communities in which they are implemented. It sounds like some very interesting work, and we listened to an overview of what he was doing for a good hour. We got to ask plenty of questions and to see how our backgrounds may be applicable to this work. In my case, they are about to enter a statistical analysis phase of the project, which has really intrigued me since I took that graduate level statistics course this summer.
After a couple hours of chatting and contextualizing and brain-picking, Becky and I drove with Dwight and Melissa (a Hunger Corps volunteer) to Gitarama, where Dwight gave a two hour presentation on the Vision of Community that is supposedly the backbone of FHI's work. It was very interesting and enlightening, but it was also very daunting, because it pointed out that real development, as accomplished through walking with churches, leaders and families in specific communities to appropriately address both the physical and spiritual hunger prevalent in those communities, is very complicated work, and it requires massive patience, humility, and flexibility. The goal is not to enter a community with some preset agenda as to how FH should operate, but to engage churches, leaders and families in seeing how FH can best help them to overcome debilitating perpetual poverty--not to be the savior of these communities, but to adequately equip them to foster sustainable development themselves. This is creates an element of much more complexity, but I think it is a very good philosophy of work and ministry for Food for the Hungry, and I am very excited to be a part of trying to figure out how that looks in the flesh.
On the way to Gitarama, which is about an hour drive from Kigali, I talked with Dwight about what I might want to do for my internship. I told him I was an Applied Math major and that I had no experience in international development (ID), but that I wanted to explore how my degree may "apply" to this field. I told him that my initial idea as to how math would apply to ID was through economic modeling and forecasting. So he suggested I do it. He talked about some areas it would be applicable and some direction I might go in, and he said it would be some very useful work. Stuff like going to the Bureau of Commerce and seeking out the government's long-term economic models and goals, and seeing how FHI's work fits into those. Really interesting and legitimate work.
So there you go. One day in and I've got two possible projects to work on. I worry, though, if I'm really qualified for the tasks at hand. They seem very interesting and I would love to learn about them, but having something to offer is another story. But, a Hunger Corps person here in the Guest House has said that "unqualified" is not an appropriate term here. Availability is the key, and with it I may be able to unlock some neat opportunities....and that's both here AND there.
I am extremely jet lagged. I went to bed at 9:30pm last night, awoke at 1:30am to go pee, and couldn't go back to sleep until 5:15am, which didn't do much more than make me more tired, since i got up at 6:45 for the day.
And it has been a pretty intense one. The first day of orientation (which, as far as i understand it, consists of me and Becky (the other intern) finding out about what FHI (Food for the Hungry International) is doing in Rwanda so that we may try to fit in somewhere useful, which is a much less organized process than I first expected.) brought an overload of info into my sleep deprived mind. We started off the day in the FHI office in Kigali (Rwanda's capital). There we participated in the morning staff devotional led by someone who spoke in Kinyarwanda (the native language). It was very interesting. Then, Becky and I got into a conversation with Jim, a professor of psychology at Greenville College who is on sebbatical here in Rwanda with his family. He is doing some research for Dwight (the country director) to help quantify the real impact that FHI's projects are bringing about in the communities in which they are implemented. It sounds like some very interesting work, and we listened to an overview of what he was doing for a good hour. We got to ask plenty of questions and to see how our backgrounds may be applicable to this work. In my case, they are about to enter a statistical analysis phase of the project, which has really intrigued me since I took that graduate level statistics course this summer.
After a couple hours of chatting and contextualizing and brain-picking, Becky and I drove with Dwight and Melissa (a Hunger Corps volunteer) to Gitarama, where Dwight gave a two hour presentation on the Vision of Community that is supposedly the backbone of FHI's work. It was very interesting and enlightening, but it was also very daunting, because it pointed out that real development, as accomplished through walking with churches, leaders and families in specific communities to appropriately address both the physical and spiritual hunger prevalent in those communities, is very complicated work, and it requires massive patience, humility, and flexibility. The goal is not to enter a community with some preset agenda as to how FH should operate, but to engage churches, leaders and families in seeing how FH can best help them to overcome debilitating perpetual poverty--not to be the savior of these communities, but to adequately equip them to foster sustainable development themselves. This is creates an element of much more complexity, but I think it is a very good philosophy of work and ministry for Food for the Hungry, and I am very excited to be a part of trying to figure out how that looks in the flesh.
On the way to Gitarama, which is about an hour drive from Kigali, I talked with Dwight about what I might want to do for my internship. I told him I was an Applied Math major and that I had no experience in international development (ID), but that I wanted to explore how my degree may "apply" to this field. I told him that my initial idea as to how math would apply to ID was through economic modeling and forecasting. So he suggested I do it. He talked about some areas it would be applicable and some direction I might go in, and he said it would be some very useful work. Stuff like going to the Bureau of Commerce and seeking out the government's long-term economic models and goals, and seeing how FHI's work fits into those. Really interesting and legitimate work.
So there you go. One day in and I've got two possible projects to work on. I worry, though, if I'm really qualified for the tasks at hand. They seem very interesting and I would love to learn about them, but having something to offer is another story. But, a Hunger Corps person here in the Guest House has said that "unqualified" is not an appropriate term here. Availability is the key, and with it I may be able to unlock some neat opportunities....and that's both here AND there.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
I'm in Rwanda!
We arrived in Kigali last night around 7:00 p.m. (noon CST), and aside from the airline losing my traveling partner's luggage and the major jet lag lagging on my body, it was a wonderful trip. We're about to go on a walk around Kigali to see what there is to see. It just started drizzling an hour ago, and the other workers are touting that as the start of the rainy season here in Rwanda.
Many adventures to come...
Many adventures to come...
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
The Road to Rwanda, Take 1: He is a Whore, He Does Confess...
Having seen him in concert a couple of nights ago for at least the eighth time in my life, I thought I would kick off the Road to Rwanda series with a discussion of the oh-so-dreamy Derek Webb and the influence his life and music have had on my perspective and worldview.
This guy blows my mind. I'm going to write about him in a bit more formal style than you may be expecting, but bear in mind that its either this or incoherent bumblings and giddy tee-hees as if I were a thirteen year-old girl writing about my first kiss. Although, in some way, my experience with Derek Webb has been a sort of "first kiss", that being with a growing desire for transparency and a bold but honest proclamation of the Gospel. How's that for a good analogy?
Derek Webb is one of the founding members of Caedmon's Call, and after ten years with the band he left to pursue a solo career, and that choice has revolutionized my life. In 2003, he put out his first solo album, She Must and Shall Go Free (SMASGF). It was an album specifically targeted to the Church, addressing her (in the US, at least) unfaithfulness to the Gospel and its relevance in our lives. Because of the heavy nature of the album content, Derek Webb chose to tour for SMASGF by playing predominately in people's living rooms, affording a much more intimate atmosphere to discuss these pertinent issues with other Christians. This method made possible the sharing of some ideas that were really revolutionary to me and my mindset. Luckily, someone recorded one of these shows and released it as The House Show (One of the most eye-opening discussions of the nature of the Christian life I've ever heard is found on this album as an intro to "I Repent". I tried to type out the sermonette that Derek preached, but it was resoundingly cumbersome. You may just have to get the album to hear it.). What was so beautiful to me about Derek Webb's first album and his subsequent tour was that it was a bold, unadulterated proclamation of the Gospel, and it seemed tailor-made for the American sub-cultural Christianity to which it was directed. The House Show specifically has been a tremendous source of conviction and molding toward a freer, more integrated existence for me, and I can't recommend it enough.
These shows and the conversations they initiated with Christians around the country led the way for Derek Webb's second studio album, I See Things Upside Down. It was less an indictment on the Church, as SMASGF essentially was, and more a diagnosis of the spiritual state of the Church in America, and of his own heart as well. Songs like "I Want a Broke Heart" and "I Repent" shot straight to the distorted value system and false righteousness that many heralding the name of Jesus have assumed, myself included, but they somehow did so in a completely non-judging manner. That's another thing I love about Derek Webb: the hard issues he brings up are issues that he's dealt with or is dealing with at the time. He doesn't speak from somewhere off in Undefiled Super Holiness-Land; he speaks and sings as one fighting the fight and struggling as much as anyone.
After I See Things Upside Down, Webb came out with Mockingbird, a collection of songs covering some of the most polarizing topics known to man: politics, war, and social justice. And he didn't do it with much mincing of words, either: "Come on and follow me/ But sell your house, sell your SUV/ Sell your stocks, sell your security/ And give it to the poor" (from "Rich Young Ruler"). And as if the content of the record were not enough of a stick-it-to-the-man, he decided to make Mockingbird available for free online for a few months after its release. I mean, who does this? It's ridiculous. It's like he went postal, Christian music-style.
One day the dam broke and out flowed four of the most spiritually nourishing albums I've ever heard.
But Derek Webb, remaining on the cutting edge of what my heart yearns and needs to hear, was not finished. In April of this year, as I was in the preliminary stages of preparation for my trip to Rwanda, he released The Ringing Bell. As an album, it is heavily influenced by the concept of "the being-made-right of all things," to use Derek Webb's words from a couple of concerts, and it culminates with "This too Shall be Made Right," a song that proclaims the message I want to declare with my life better than I could hope to express in my own words. I now give you a fairly appropriate video, made some fellow blogger out there, using the song:
So there it is. The short version of my journey through Webbworld. In my opinion, every Christian in America should immerse themselves in the music of Derek Webb. He is one of the most needed voices in our culture right now.
How's this for irony? If I struggle with Derek Webb being an idol in my life, its only because of his penetrating proclamation against the propping up of idols and the chasing after gods not fit for salvation. May the Lord have mercy on us all.
This guy blows my mind. I'm going to write about him in a bit more formal style than you may be expecting, but bear in mind that its either this or incoherent bumblings and giddy tee-hees as if I were a thirteen year-old girl writing about my first kiss. Although, in some way, my experience with Derek Webb has been a sort of "first kiss", that being with a growing desire for transparency and a bold but honest proclamation of the Gospel. How's that for a good analogy?
Derek Webb is one of the founding members of Caedmon's Call, and after ten years with the band he left to pursue a solo career, and that choice has revolutionized my life. In 2003, he put out his first solo album, She Must and Shall Go Free (SMASGF). It was an album specifically targeted to the Church, addressing her (in the US, at least) unfaithfulness to the Gospel and its relevance in our lives. Because of the heavy nature of the album content, Derek Webb chose to tour for SMASGF by playing predominately in people's living rooms, affording a much more intimate atmosphere to discuss these pertinent issues with other Christians. This method made possible the sharing of some ideas that were really revolutionary to me and my mindset. Luckily, someone recorded one of these shows and released it as The House Show (One of the most eye-opening discussions of the nature of the Christian life I've ever heard is found on this album as an intro to "I Repent". I tried to type out the sermonette that Derek preached, but it was resoundingly cumbersome. You may just have to get the album to hear it.). What was so beautiful to me about Derek Webb's first album and his subsequent tour was that it was a bold, unadulterated proclamation of the Gospel, and it seemed tailor-made for the American sub-cultural Christianity to which it was directed. The House Show specifically has been a tremendous source of conviction and molding toward a freer, more integrated existence for me, and I can't recommend it enough.
These shows and the conversations they initiated with Christians around the country led the way for Derek Webb's second studio album, I See Things Upside Down. It was less an indictment on the Church, as SMASGF essentially was, and more a diagnosis of the spiritual state of the Church in America, and of his own heart as well. Songs like "I Want a Broke Heart" and "I Repent" shot straight to the distorted value system and false righteousness that many heralding the name of Jesus have assumed, myself included, but they somehow did so in a completely non-judging manner. That's another thing I love about Derek Webb: the hard issues he brings up are issues that he's dealt with or is dealing with at the time. He doesn't speak from somewhere off in Undefiled Super Holiness-Land; he speaks and sings as one fighting the fight and struggling as much as anyone.
After I See Things Upside Down, Webb came out with Mockingbird, a collection of songs covering some of the most polarizing topics known to man: politics, war, and social justice. And he didn't do it with much mincing of words, either: "Come on and follow me/ But sell your house, sell your SUV/ Sell your stocks, sell your security/ And give it to the poor" (from "Rich Young Ruler"). And as if the content of the record were not enough of a stick-it-to-the-man, he decided to make Mockingbird available for free online for a few months after its release. I mean, who does this? It's ridiculous. It's like he went postal, Christian music-style.
One day the dam broke and out flowed four of the most spiritually nourishing albums I've ever heard.
But Derek Webb, remaining on the cutting edge of what my heart yearns and needs to hear, was not finished. In April of this year, as I was in the preliminary stages of preparation for my trip to Rwanda, he released The Ringing Bell. As an album, it is heavily influenced by the concept of "the being-made-right of all things," to use Derek Webb's words from a couple of concerts, and it culminates with "This too Shall be Made Right," a song that proclaims the message I want to declare with my life better than I could hope to express in my own words. I now give you a fairly appropriate video, made some fellow blogger out there, using the song:
So there it is. The short version of my journey through Webbworld. In my opinion, every Christian in America should immerse themselves in the music of Derek Webb. He is one of the most needed voices in our culture right now.
How's this for irony? If I struggle with Derek Webb being an idol in my life, its only because of his penetrating proclamation against the propping up of idols and the chasing after gods not fit for salvation. May the Lord have mercy on us all.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
A note about the Road to Rwanda series, as I'm calling it
These highlights from my personal journey will be in no particular order of prominence or chronology; the topics of all of these posts have probably been influential in a much more significant way than I realize, as have other events and experiences and people that I will fail to mention altogether. The purpose of these postings is simply to give you, the reader, a better glimpse into my thoughts and world, and for me, the writer whom these experiences and people have benefited, to not forget the path that I've trodden and the insights that I've gained along the way. Because, as C.S. Lewis so aptly put it, "People need to be reminded more often than they need to be instructed."
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Time for a Second Post!
Many of you are probably reading this as a result of my telling you about this blog in a support letter you received from me. If that's the case, thank you for caring about my life. I haven't messed with this joker since its inception way back in June, so bear with me while I familiarize myself with the nuances and intricacies of blogging.
This September, the blog will hopefully follow my experiences and progress in Rwanda, where I'll be working with Food for the Hungry as a Wholistic Development Intern. The road leading up to this experience in my life has been at least as fruitful as I'm hoping this internship will be. In the past few years, the Lord has greatly molded my perspective of what it means to be a Christian in this world today, and my pursuit of this partnership with Food for the Hungry is but one way I'm trying to flesh out the calling of God on my life (and all our lives) to preach the Gospel to all creation.
Right now I'm thinking of posting a series of blurbs about this worldview development of mine as a lead-up to the commencement of my trip. It should be pretty awesome, at least to me.
So keep reading...
This September, the blog will hopefully follow my experiences and progress in Rwanda, where I'll be working with Food for the Hungry as a Wholistic Development Intern. The road leading up to this experience in my life has been at least as fruitful as I'm hoping this internship will be. In the past few years, the Lord has greatly molded my perspective of what it means to be a Christian in this world today, and my pursuit of this partnership with Food for the Hungry is but one way I'm trying to flesh out the calling of God on my life (and all our lives) to preach the Gospel to all creation.
Right now I'm thinking of posting a series of blurbs about this worldview development of mine as a lead-up to the commencement of my trip. It should be pretty awesome, at least to me.
So keep reading...
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Inaugural Address
I've been pressured into creating a blog before I felt ready, but as I learned from that crazy cartoon owl on the commercials, the best way to learn how many licks it takes is to take some licks. So here am I; send me...to all your friends and family and anyone else who enjoys reading musings of introspective, slightly socially awkward twenty-somethings that talk big and know little.
But note this: I will take great pains to be grammatically correct whenever I'm not utilizing grammatical incorrectness for literary effect, but as with most people with blogs these days, I'm not perfect.
But note this: I will take great pains to be grammatically correct whenever I'm not utilizing grammatical incorrectness for literary effect, but as with most people with blogs these days, I'm not perfect.
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