Here is an interview with Derek Webb.....not sure when it was recorded, but it includes discussion of songs from his summer 2009 album Stockholm Syndrome. Well worth the listen.
Among things discussed:
- peace & nonviolence in a very Hauerwasian manner
- juxtaposition of his concerts with church
- voting rights and responsibilities (to conscience)
- the mystery of inefficient yet redemptive uses of time
...all of this in the context of the rich reformation atonement theology that made him the poster-child of hipster calvinism. All in all, a very thought-provoking interview.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
New Webspace
http://web.mac.com/adams.sb
This is my latest creation, and a new method through which I will communicate with my family, friends, and the world at large. I'm hoping to indefinitely suspend upkeep on this site and place all my creative and informative efforts in iWeb, since I can spend all night offline developing a blog or a photo album and then publish it when I get an internet connection. I think it will be better off for everyone.
I also feel like I owe it to my MacBook to explore some of these programs that could be potentially life-enhancing, this website being created on one of those.
Let me know how it goes for you. You can leave comments on the 'blog' section.
Thanks for the inspiration, Matt.
This is my latest creation, and a new method through which I will communicate with my family, friends, and the world at large. I'm hoping to indefinitely suspend upkeep on this site and place all my creative and informative efforts in iWeb, since I can spend all night offline developing a blog or a photo album and then publish it when I get an internet connection. I think it will be better off for everyone.
I also feel like I owe it to my MacBook to explore some of these programs that could be potentially life-enhancing, this website being created on one of those.
Let me know how it goes for you. You can leave comments on the 'blog' section.
Thanks for the inspiration, Matt.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Kampala Musings
I'm sitting at a coffee shop in Kampala, Uganda, thinking about how epic this experience is. I just met with a Ugandan businessman and two guys from Texas who've started a business/training organization here in Kampala. We talked all about economic development in Uganda: opportunities, challenges, visions for our organizations, etc. It was very interesting and informative. A year ago I would have never imagined I would be here having these conversations, thinking critically and consequentially about how to move forward in economic development in Africa. I love it.
Kampala is a wonderful city, too. Its SO much more vibrant and active than Kigali, and there's much more to do and see and buy. I negotiated for a bicycle yesterday--a ten-year old Specialized Rockhopper fresh from Europe. The main downside of being in Kampala is that people are less apologetic about screwing over white people on taxis and motos. Its not a huge deal since I'm getting per diem traveling for work, and transport prices are a bit cheaper than Kigali anyway, but the principle is still discouraging.
In short, I'm absolutely loving my time in Kampala. It is helping me to see how incredible this overall experience is and how blessed I am to be experiencing it. Come visit and I'll share it more with you.
Kampala is a wonderful city, too. Its SO much more vibrant and active than Kigali, and there's much more to do and see and buy. I negotiated for a bicycle yesterday--a ten-year old Specialized Rockhopper fresh from Europe. The main downside of being in Kampala is that people are less apologetic about screwing over white people on taxis and motos. Its not a huge deal since I'm getting per diem traveling for work, and transport prices are a bit cheaper than Kigali anyway, but the principle is still discouraging.
In short, I'm absolutely loving my time in Kampala. It is helping me to see how incredible this overall experience is and how blessed I am to be experiencing it. Come visit and I'll share it more with you.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Housemate Switcheroo
Above is a picture of me and my roommates. From the left are Seng, Jen, Lisa and Sam. Seng and Jen are married from Seattle and work for Food for the Hungry. Lisa worked for Adventist Development and Relief Agency and is a Canadian with a British accent who has lived a lot of her life in the US, or something like that. She left us a couple weeks ago after spending nine months in Rwanda, and there was a gaping hole in the dynamics of the house...until we found our new housemate....
A Puppy! Her name is the name of a Latin American fruit, Chirimoya, nickname Chi Chi. Seng chose her name because its his first dog to ever own. She came from a litter produced by our country director's dogs. She's a pure African mut. Its my first dog since Spot, a beagle I had when I was three that loved chasing oppossums. Chi Chi loves chasing feet and trouser legs and pees on the porch every night. She's quite adorable, but she's got a long way to go before she can drink coffee and hold a conversation at the same time on a calm Saturday morning. Until that happens, Lisa will be missed.
Trip to Uganda
I'll be traveling to Kampala, Uganda at 6:00am this Sunday, April 20, and I'll be there for a week working to pull together some opportunities for economic development up there. I'm going with Rich Smyth, Managing Director of Rwanda Meat Suppliers, the pork slaughterhouse we started. We'll be exploring the possibility of sending a truckload of pork to Kampala once a month or so, as well as finding out what FH beneficiary communities may be producing that has a market in Rwanda for the monthly trip back. We'll also be investigating the feasibility of setting up chicken egg incubation systems and honey production. Its all fascinating stuff that I never imagined I'd be legitimately investigating. But "whether you eat or drink [or analyze the central sub-Saharan Africa pork industry] or whatever you do, do all for the glory of God."
Kampala is about an eight hour drive from Kigali, and as soon as we cross the border into Uganda, we switch sides of the road. Rwanda drives on the right side and Uganda drives on the wrong [left] side. I'm glad I'm not driving.
Work
My job is getting increasingly busy and awesome. Rwanda Meat Suppliers (RMS) is scheduled to slaughter its first pig this coming Monday, the first of hopefully over 6,000 hogs in the first year of operations. This will equate to almost $400,000 going into the hands of rural pig farmers, creating an average income increase of about $400 per farming family in the first year, which would probably double or triple many of their current annual wages.
And we've recently won a government contract to manage a water treatment and distribution system that will provide clean water to 120,000 households in the Southern Province. This is a 15-year contract that will produce over $1 million a year for FH/ProCom, while providing quality, clean water to the public for 3 cents/jerry can (20 liters).
We're making plans to expand RMS to two slaughterhouses and a much more formal distribution channel by the end of the year. We're also looking into honey and chicken production, importing flash drives and other technology equipment and exporting handicrafts, among other things. Things are moving forward, sometimes too quickly to stay up with, but its really exciting and encouraging to see the possibilities that await us and the communities we are working with.
Kampala is about an eight hour drive from Kigali, and as soon as we cross the border into Uganda, we switch sides of the road. Rwanda drives on the right side and Uganda drives on the wrong [left] side. I'm glad I'm not driving.
Work
My job is getting increasingly busy and awesome. Rwanda Meat Suppliers (RMS) is scheduled to slaughter its first pig this coming Monday, the first of hopefully over 6,000 hogs in the first year of operations. This will equate to almost $400,000 going into the hands of rural pig farmers, creating an average income increase of about $400 per farming family in the first year, which would probably double or triple many of their current annual wages.
And we've recently won a government contract to manage a water treatment and distribution system that will provide clean water to 120,000 households in the Southern Province. This is a 15-year contract that will produce over $1 million a year for FH/ProCom, while providing quality, clean water to the public for 3 cents/jerry can (20 liters).
We're making plans to expand RMS to two slaughterhouses and a much more formal distribution channel by the end of the year. We're also looking into honey and chicken production, importing flash drives and other technology equipment and exporting handicrafts, among other things. Things are moving forward, sometimes too quickly to stay up with, but its really exciting and encouraging to see the possibilities that await us and the communities we are working with.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Genocide Memorial Week
On the night of April 6, 1994, the airplane carrying the Rwandan president was shot down as it landed at the Kigali International Airport in Rwanda. Then, as the Hutu Power party took over, a genocide ensued that left over 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus dead. This week marks the fourteenth anniversary of its beginning, and the entire country is in a state of mourning.
The genocide in Rwanda was by no means a simple event. The more I read and watch and listen to about it, the more baffling it becomes. It was completely chaotic and yet meticulously planned. People who had given their sons and daughters in marriage to neighbors suddenly turned on them and slaughtered them with robot-like obedience to the Hutu Power's orders. There were unlikely villains, like the church pastors who oversaw the deaths of tens of thousands who sought refuge in their churches, and unlikely heros, like Paul Rusesabagina, who used his influence to save 1,200 people who sought refuge in the Hotel Mille Colline. The international community made a resolution after World War II that obligated them to act in face of genocide so as to prevent another holocaust from ever happening again, and then they fumbled for two months trying to avoid the use of the word so they wouldn't have to intervene.
Pretty much every Rwandan alive in 1994 has a story of incredible trauma following them around for the rest of their life. Whether their whole family was killed or their father is in prison for killing, there is no one here left untouched by the horrors of that spring and summer.
We, along with the rest of the country, got the day off work on Monday, as April 7 marks the official beginning of the genocide. As ex-pats we were told to just lay low and not look too happy if we went outside, for fear of being disrespectful and offending people who are allowing themselves to fully mourn. Many people just leave the country for the week, because its pretty eerie and most businesses close after lunch anyway. I was at my friend Lindsay's house on Monday morning, sitting on the porch drinking coffee and playing with her new puppy, when we heard some kids yelling in our direction and barking at the dog. We looked around for a minute and spotted two or three children in a tree across the street peering over her fence, trying to get a good look at her puppy. After a few more minutes, enough of a ruckus was made that about seven kids gathered outside her gate making whiny dog noises, so Lindsay took Tub Tub (it's a pudgy little dog) outside the gate and introduced her to the neighborhood. The kids had an absolute ball playing with Tub Tub, but I couldn't help but feel like I was slapping the whole country in the face by being happy and encouraging kids to play around on that day. Older people walked by and I couldn't help imagining that they felt we were somehow disregarding the meaning of that day and teaching the younger generation to do the same.
After a few minutes of Tub Tub being harassed by the kids, we took her inside, then shortly after I walked home, still confused and worried that the we'd lost credibility with the community we live in.
I spent a lot of the day trying to make sense of that encounter. Based on what a lot of people had advised concerning that day, I was worried that I'd be written off as an insensitive foreigner who cares nothing about the plight of the country. But then I realized something pretty incredible......these kids didn't experience the horrors of the genocide. They didn't grow up being called "cockroach," nor have they grown up being told that their neighbors were lesser human beings, worthy of extermination. The baggage of the genocide that they carry is largely from their parents, and though Rwanda still has many years before full healing and recovery take place, I saw Monday that a good place to start may be with those kids, who aren't plagued with horrible images of their family being slaughtered, who are part of the first generation in Rwanda that even has a chance at achieving universal primary education, and who, on days they get off from school for whatever reason, want to play outside just like any kid anywhere, kicking soccer balls, climbing in trees, and chasing the neighbor's puppy.
There is definitely a time for somber remembrance, and I don't want to downplay the importance of this week in Rwanda. But there is also a time for simple child-like joy, and I saw on Monday that in Rwanda, the two times do not oppose one another. They are both part of the delicate balance of not only appropriately remembering the past, but also realizing the brightness of the future. And in Rwanda, the hope of the future shines like the morning sun.
The genocide in Rwanda was by no means a simple event. The more I read and watch and listen to about it, the more baffling it becomes. It was completely chaotic and yet meticulously planned. People who had given their sons and daughters in marriage to neighbors suddenly turned on them and slaughtered them with robot-like obedience to the Hutu Power's orders. There were unlikely villains, like the church pastors who oversaw the deaths of tens of thousands who sought refuge in their churches, and unlikely heros, like Paul Rusesabagina, who used his influence to save 1,200 people who sought refuge in the Hotel Mille Colline. The international community made a resolution after World War II that obligated them to act in face of genocide so as to prevent another holocaust from ever happening again, and then they fumbled for two months trying to avoid the use of the word so they wouldn't have to intervene.
Pretty much every Rwandan alive in 1994 has a story of incredible trauma following them around for the rest of their life. Whether their whole family was killed or their father is in prison for killing, there is no one here left untouched by the horrors of that spring and summer.
We, along with the rest of the country, got the day off work on Monday, as April 7 marks the official beginning of the genocide. As ex-pats we were told to just lay low and not look too happy if we went outside, for fear of being disrespectful and offending people who are allowing themselves to fully mourn. Many people just leave the country for the week, because its pretty eerie and most businesses close after lunch anyway. I was at my friend Lindsay's house on Monday morning, sitting on the porch drinking coffee and playing with her new puppy, when we heard some kids yelling in our direction and barking at the dog. We looked around for a minute and spotted two or three children in a tree across the street peering over her fence, trying to get a good look at her puppy. After a few more minutes, enough of a ruckus was made that about seven kids gathered outside her gate making whiny dog noises, so Lindsay took Tub Tub (it's a pudgy little dog) outside the gate and introduced her to the neighborhood. The kids had an absolute ball playing with Tub Tub, but I couldn't help but feel like I was slapping the whole country in the face by being happy and encouraging kids to play around on that day. Older people walked by and I couldn't help imagining that they felt we were somehow disregarding the meaning of that day and teaching the younger generation to do the same.
After a few minutes of Tub Tub being harassed by the kids, we took her inside, then shortly after I walked home, still confused and worried that the we'd lost credibility with the community we live in.
I spent a lot of the day trying to make sense of that encounter. Based on what a lot of people had advised concerning that day, I was worried that I'd be written off as an insensitive foreigner who cares nothing about the plight of the country. But then I realized something pretty incredible......these kids didn't experience the horrors of the genocide. They didn't grow up being called "cockroach," nor have they grown up being told that their neighbors were lesser human beings, worthy of extermination. The baggage of the genocide that they carry is largely from their parents, and though Rwanda still has many years before full healing and recovery take place, I saw Monday that a good place to start may be with those kids, who aren't plagued with horrible images of their family being slaughtered, who are part of the first generation in Rwanda that even has a chance at achieving universal primary education, and who, on days they get off from school for whatever reason, want to play outside just like any kid anywhere, kicking soccer balls, climbing in trees, and chasing the neighbor's puppy.
There is definitely a time for somber remembrance, and I don't want to downplay the importance of this week in Rwanda. But there is also a time for simple child-like joy, and I saw on Monday that in Rwanda, the two times do not oppose one another. They are both part of the delicate balance of not only appropriately remembering the past, but also realizing the brightness of the future. And in Rwanda, the hope of the future shines like the morning sun.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Precipitation Factoids
I just did some metric-standard conversions, and they revealed that Orange County, TX has more annual rainfall than Kigali, Rwanda. Here's the figures:
Orange County, Texas: 58.6 in (1488 mm)
Kigali, Rwanda: 40.5 in (1030 mm)
So there you have it. Southeast Texas has more annual precipitation than the capital of Rwanda. There are two parts of Rwanda that qualify as official rainforests (receiving over 80 inches a year with some consistency from month to month), and they are preserved as national parks.
Kigali does have much more distinct rainy and dry seasons, though, and we are just entering the heavy rainy season, which will last until the beginning of May. These next couple months are the real moneymakers here in Rwanda as the economy is driven by agriculture, which is driven by water, which is what rain is made of.
Orange County, Texas: 58.6 in (1488 mm)
Kigali, Rwanda: 40.5 in (1030 mm)
So there you have it. Southeast Texas has more annual precipitation than the capital of Rwanda. There are two parts of Rwanda that qualify as official rainforests (receiving over 80 inches a year with some consistency from month to month), and they are preserved as national parks.
Kigali does have much more distinct rainy and dry seasons, though, and we are just entering the heavy rainy season, which will last until the beginning of May. These next couple months are the real moneymakers here in Rwanda as the economy is driven by agriculture, which is driven by water, which is what rain is made of.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Hail to the Chief!
Its Tuesday, and I'm sitting in the FH office here in Kigali listening to helicopters patrol the sky. On the way to work, there was a much heightened presence of military personnel strewn along the streets. President George W. Bush is coming to town today.
A bunch of us Americans here in Kigali are kinda pissed that we won't get to meet him. He won't be here long; he's just cutting the ribbon on the new US Embassy in Kigali, visiting a genocide memorial, and heading out in his Air Force Ones. But the Ambassador could have at least invited us to the Embassy for tea and cookies or something. Part of me wishes I would have camped out at the front door of the embassy, waiting to get a look at him and his wife. But then again, this isn't the premier of Star Wars; its probably one of the most heightened security situations in Rwanda's history, and even though I am from Texas, I just don't have enough vigor to resist or enough smile to charm the secret service today. The best I can hope for is that he makes a detour to the FH office on his way back to the airport.
Either way, here I will be, sitting at my desk, hoping the sound of 'American Pie' can drown out the beating of choppers overhead and reveling in the fact that this is possibly the closest I'll ever be to the president of the United States of America. Who would have thought it'd be halfway around the world in the middle of the poorest continent on earth?
A bunch of us Americans here in Kigali are kinda pissed that we won't get to meet him. He won't be here long; he's just cutting the ribbon on the new US Embassy in Kigali, visiting a genocide memorial, and heading out in his Air Force Ones. But the Ambassador could have at least invited us to the Embassy for tea and cookies or something. Part of me wishes I would have camped out at the front door of the embassy, waiting to get a look at him and his wife. But then again, this isn't the premier of Star Wars; its probably one of the most heightened security situations in Rwanda's history, and even though I am from Texas, I just don't have enough vigor to resist or enough smile to charm the secret service today. The best I can hope for is that he makes a detour to the FH office on his way back to the airport.
Either way, here I will be, sitting at my desk, hoping the sound of 'American Pie' can drown out the beating of choppers overhead and reveling in the fact that this is possibly the closest I'll ever be to the president of the United States of America. Who would have thought it'd be halfway around the world in the middle of the poorest continent on earth?
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
In Respons to Jason & Jenny's Comment on the Previous Post
Here's the text in question from my last post: "An earthquake measuring 6.0 on the Richter Scale (shoutout to Mongoose) hit on the border of Rwanda and DRC this morning."
The story goes back to Junior High. I, being the incredibly bright and creative child that I was, decided to doodle a couple of characters on my gridded notebook, creating the beginnings of a potentially delightful comic book story. The characters were a dunce cowboy named Arizona Duhaus and his untrusty steed Feenicks. After consulting with my good friend Matt Morgan, we decided that there was needed a nemesis for this Duhaus character, as well as a treasure that they continually vied for and which kept them at odds. And so was born Richter Scale, the arch enemy of Arizona Duhaus, a clever, menacing fellow who would always attempt to steal away Arizona's romantic interest, Pretty Dame. Arizona, being a numbskull though he was, would always somehow outsmart Richter Scale without knowing it. And so the story would go...
After about three minutes of playing around with this concept, I emerged as the embodiment of Arizona Duhaus and Matt became Richter Scale. The names don't really have much symbolism to them, except for Pretty Dame, which is fairly self-explanatory (We labeled Ashley Rojo as Pretty Dame, not because we had a crush on her, but because she was an easy target). After another four minutes, I ran out of material and nothing really ever came of it. But throughout our high school and college years, Matt and I would regularly reminisce about the story line and wonder at its potential to become a legitimate comic strip. Matt was more dedicated to its success than I was, as he actually created a couple of scenarios in comic strip form while sitting in his engineering classes at Lamar.
So every time I hear the term "Richter Scale," I automatically think of that character and Matt's slyness, as I imagine Matt does and perhaps our other friends as well.
So that's where the shoutout comes from. The reason the shoutout went to "Mongoose" is because that is what they used to call Matt on the basketball court, either because he made high-pitched squealing noises when he was fouled or because he was really quick. I can't remember which. Maybe both.
And there is a window into my childhood.
The story goes back to Junior High. I, being the incredibly bright and creative child that I was, decided to doodle a couple of characters on my gridded notebook, creating the beginnings of a potentially delightful comic book story. The characters were a dunce cowboy named Arizona Duhaus and his untrusty steed Feenicks. After consulting with my good friend Matt Morgan, we decided that there was needed a nemesis for this Duhaus character, as well as a treasure that they continually vied for and which kept them at odds. And so was born Richter Scale, the arch enemy of Arizona Duhaus, a clever, menacing fellow who would always attempt to steal away Arizona's romantic interest, Pretty Dame. Arizona, being a numbskull though he was, would always somehow outsmart Richter Scale without knowing it. And so the story would go...
After about three minutes of playing around with this concept, I emerged as the embodiment of Arizona Duhaus and Matt became Richter Scale. The names don't really have much symbolism to them, except for Pretty Dame, which is fairly self-explanatory (We labeled Ashley Rojo as Pretty Dame, not because we had a crush on her, but because she was an easy target). After another four minutes, I ran out of material and nothing really ever came of it. But throughout our high school and college years, Matt and I would regularly reminisce about the story line and wonder at its potential to become a legitimate comic strip. Matt was more dedicated to its success than I was, as he actually created a couple of scenarios in comic strip form while sitting in his engineering classes at Lamar.
So every time I hear the term "Richter Scale," I automatically think of that character and Matt's slyness, as I imagine Matt does and perhaps our other friends as well.
So that's where the shoutout comes from. The reason the shoutout went to "Mongoose" is because that is what they used to call Matt on the basketball court, either because he made high-pitched squealing noises when he was fouled or because he was really quick. I can't remember which. Maybe both.
And there is a window into my childhood.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
The Pains of Childbirth
"For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now."
-Romans 8:22
An earthquake measuring 6.0 on the Richter Scale (shoutout to Mongoose) hit on the border of Rwanda and DRC this morning. At least 30 people were killed, hundreds more injured, and they are expecting another one between 8pm and 12am (GMT +2) tonight (Sunday, Feb 3). I'm in kigali, which is about 150 miles from the epicenter. I felt it in church this morning, but no buildings collapsed and no one was injured here as far as i know. I am safe (God willing), but the word is that we are urged to not be inside between those hours just in case.
I feel sort of like having an Earthquake Party outside on the lawn, in the same spirit as those who have hurricane parties on the gulf coast, only whereas they are ordered to evacuate and don't, I'd be taking the necessary precautionary measures.
It was my first earthquake to experience, and it was quite surreal. It is a situation where you are left totally at the mercy of the trembling earth below you. I've always wondered what it would be like to experience one. Granted, I was far away from the epicenter, but the feeling of utter helplessness was very present. It was incredibly awe-inspiring and humbling, and it is a very poignant reminder of the earth groaning as in the pangs of childbirth, awaiting the revealing of the sons of God. And tonight I join in, longing for the creation to be set free from its bondage to decay and for us to know the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
Oh Lord, haste the day...
-Romans 8:22
An earthquake measuring 6.0 on the Richter Scale (shoutout to Mongoose) hit on the border of Rwanda and DRC this morning. At least 30 people were killed, hundreds more injured, and they are expecting another one between 8pm and 12am (GMT +2) tonight (Sunday, Feb 3). I'm in kigali, which is about 150 miles from the epicenter. I felt it in church this morning, but no buildings collapsed and no one was injured here as far as i know. I am safe (God willing), but the word is that we are urged to not be inside between those hours just in case.
I feel sort of like having an Earthquake Party outside on the lawn, in the same spirit as those who have hurricane parties on the gulf coast, only whereas they are ordered to evacuate and don't, I'd be taking the necessary precautionary measures.
It was my first earthquake to experience, and it was quite surreal. It is a situation where you are left totally at the mercy of the trembling earth below you. I've always wondered what it would be like to experience one. Granted, I was far away from the epicenter, but the feeling of utter helplessness was very present. It was incredibly awe-inspiring and humbling, and it is a very poignant reminder of the earth groaning as in the pangs of childbirth, awaiting the revealing of the sons of God. And tonight I join in, longing for the creation to be set free from its bondage to decay and for us to know the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
Oh Lord, haste the day...
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