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.
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