Some people told me that Africa was a wild place, but I didn't think it would really be like this. Here are a few examples of the chaos that ensues on this continent. Last week, when our connection flight landed in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, we stepped off the airplane only to be greeted by camels to take us to the next terminal. I mean, come on, camels, that was hard to fathom. I do have to say that riding a camel was a bit more complex than horses or mules. Their speed is incredible; they could run the entire runway in under twenty seconds. It is hard to believe Ethiopians do not have cars, busses, or motorcycles. While in the terminal, we were forced to participate in the Muslim call to prayer, otherwise we would have been imprisoned for 60 days. I tried to explain to the police officer about my bum knee and kneeling is a bit of a problem for me. What did he say to me? Nothing at all, but the Ethiopian officer lifted up his pants over his knees and exposed an artificial leg, carved from the femur of a lion. He pushed his pant leg back down and pulled me to the ground. Well, at least I'm not in prision. Oh, the madness didn't stop in Ethiopia.
As we approached our descent to Kigali, Rwanda, I noticed from out the window that there was no runway to be found. Psh, that was sooo Africa. We literally landed the airplane in the middle of a herd of Cape Buffallo. When we stepped out of the plane, come to find out the airplane killed three of the enormous beasts. If you are from Arkansas or Alabama, I know what you're thinking, what happened to the carcasses, that's good meat. Well guys, a couple Rwandans, Ugandans, and Zambians got together and decided to give the new, American teachers of Kigali International Community School a true East African welcome. We built an enormous fire, pulled some bananas and mangos from the trees, picked coffee beans to make coffee, cooked up the Cape Buffalos, and had a huge welcome to East Africa party. It was an incredible experience, but that wasn't the end to the madness. I am about to tell you something that will blow your mind. There was someone famous on our flight, someone very influential to Africa. That's right, Bono! I can't sing enough praise about this guy. We shared and mulled over some ideas and projects and he even sung a few U2 songs with a couple of the native tribes near the Kigali "airport." It was amazing that the tribes knew all of his U2 songs. When I thought the "concert" was over, a Rwandan man yelled out to Bono, "Play 'Sunday, Bloody Sunday!" And you know what, he sung it for the tribes. Man, what a guy.
Kigali, in its own right, is a crazy place. While at the market the other day, I bought two zebras that I will have to use to tout water from the rivers back to my house. I considered buying a camel, but the prices were a bit out of my range. I'm hoping that after a few months here I will be able to sell the zebras for a price equal to a camel. Who knows, sometimes things just aren't meant to be. One of the neatest parts of living in Kigali is the fact that my next door neighbor is a family of gorillas. They are wonderful creatures; a bit eccentric, but delightful none the less. I've invited them for African tea a few times but Anthony, the father, is always busy with the Rwandan gorilla treks. He works for the Department of Tourism by supervising eight different gorilla packs for the government. Anyways, everything you have ever heard about Africa is true. What a place!
Kigali is a wonderful city filled with delightful, but struggling and scarred people. I find myself walking the streets pondering over what anyone over the age of 15 must have saw in this country during 1994. Just the thought of a genocide of 1,000,000 people brings me to my knees. Although we live such jaded lives in terms of violence, that number is still staggering. I was able to visit the Kigali Genocide Memorial last week. The memorial did a wonderful job honoring the fallen Rwandans and, at the same time, educate every visitor about genocide and how it can be prevented in the future. It just amazes me how six billion people on this Earth could turn a blind eye to an overt genocide? The world failed this community fourteen years ago. If you are uneducated on the Rwandan genocide, I suggest you watch the movie "Sometimes in April." Remember though, this film only scratches the surface of some of the events that went on during 1994. Pray for these people; this massacre is still fresh. A tragedy like that is never forgotten.
Africa, specifically Kigali, is a calm, soothing, and wonderful place. The city is welcoming to foreigners and the Rwandans have a kind disposition about them. I wonder if it is the lack of Western influence in their lives, or they are just simply, inherently more genuine, kind, and accepting people then we see Westward. Speaking of a West and African disparity, the stranglehold of the mighty hand of Capitalism does ensue in Rwanda and is very apparent in this town. When I walk around town, it is easy to notice Western culture creeping into the city of Kigali: Bourbon Cafe, a coffeehouse that makes Starbucks look like an aged New Jersey diner, the Western banking system and focus on money, and the accessibility of Western food, hygiene products, and motor vehicles throughout the city. At times, Kigali feels like true, simplified Africa, but other times, I can see Western businessmen sucking the culture out of this place. From an anthropological point of view, Western Capitalistic expansion will be an issue I deal with all year.
On a bright note, school starts next Monday. I have my classroom and it is slowly starting to take shape. We start teacher inservice next Monday where we will be going over logistically stuff as a school and as a team. We have a school open house next Friday then right into it on September 1st. I am looking forward to being in the classroom, specifically such a diversified classroom. Fifty percent of the students are native Rwandans and the other fifty percent represent twenty-seven other countries. It will be a bit of a struggle to plan for four separate classes, but I'll make it. It will be a good year. KICS attendance is up from 90 at the end of the last school year to right around 200 students. My middle school classes are capped at 15 students each. I love the idea of such small classes; it will provide an opportunity for intimacy you can't find in most schools. Life is good my friends. Pray for the Rwandans, my students, and my ability to be a good influence in this country.
Blue Skies, eh.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
"Act, but seek not the fruit of your actions."
One difficult thing about living in a small, fishing village in the Dominican is not having access to good music. I love good music or complete silence, both of those things bring me peace. One thing that I struggle to live with is bad music. The Dominicans are never silent and consistently listen to bad music, thus the eternal, Dominican catch-22. The one thing I miss from the states is the easy access to good music. Ok, two things; music and good oatmeal. Ok, three things; music, good oatmeal, and twizzlers. But seriously, good music and oatmeal, how I miss thee. Well, to appease the family and friends, I guess I miss you guys as well. No seriously, I do. I am looking forward to seeing you all and spending some quality time together. That’s what life is all about, right; service to others and building relationships along the way. Everything else seems trivial in comparison.
I just finished up a book given to me by an old friend called “A Simple Path” by Mother Teresa. If the stories from mamma t and her fellow Missionaries of Charity don’t inspire you to serve the poor of this world, I am convinced you are cold blooded. The Sisterhood did nothing extraordinary but become poor themselves and serve the world through fervent prayer and action. “How can you truly know the poor unless you live like them? If they complain about the food, we can say that we eat the same. The more we have the less we can give. Poverty is a wonderful gift because it gives us freedom--it means we have fewer obstacles to God.” She also said that, “By becoming poor ourselves, by loving until it hurts, we became capable of loving more deeply, more beautifully, more wholly.“ Mother Teresa knows physical poverty because she chose that lifestyle; it was the simple path of and to her savior.
In Western society, we may not always see physical poverty running rapid, but we do see the loneliness and spiritual poverty pandemic spreading like a Californian wildfire. I don’t have the solutions, but I know our reliance on “noise” is not the vaccine we need. I believe we all should have the faith of the Mother Teresa’s of the world, to ignore modern society and step out in faith and serve the poor, but I also understand that Americans have been brainwashed into this lifestyle of comfort and compliancy that goes against every ounce of human nature.
The fruit of silence is
prayer.
The fruit of prayer is
faith.
The fruit of faith is
love.
The fruit of love is
service.
The fruit of service is
peace.
Other than the bout of Dominican poison ivy that is beginning to ravage my entire body, life is good. This summer has been excellent for me. My eyes have been peeled open to the reality of the world outside the United States. On another note, it is a beautiful sight to my blue eyes to see that Coach Beason, I mean "GAC" is still out and about in this world. I sleep better at night knowing that he is there, roaming facebook, myspace, and probably all of cyberspace defending the lowliest of low ones like myself and Lee Kee. God bless you GAC and may hell be easy on your soul Mr. Wright.
I just finished up a book given to me by an old friend called “A Simple Path” by Mother Teresa. If the stories from mamma t and her fellow Missionaries of Charity don’t inspire you to serve the poor of this world, I am convinced you are cold blooded. The Sisterhood did nothing extraordinary but become poor themselves and serve the world through fervent prayer and action. “How can you truly know the poor unless you live like them? If they complain about the food, we can say that we eat the same. The more we have the less we can give. Poverty is a wonderful gift because it gives us freedom--it means we have fewer obstacles to God.” She also said that, “By becoming poor ourselves, by loving until it hurts, we became capable of loving more deeply, more beautifully, more wholly.“ Mother Teresa knows physical poverty because she chose that lifestyle; it was the simple path of and to her savior.
In Western society, we may not always see physical poverty running rapid, but we do see the loneliness and spiritual poverty pandemic spreading like a Californian wildfire. I don’t have the solutions, but I know our reliance on “noise” is not the vaccine we need. I believe we all should have the faith of the Mother Teresa’s of the world, to ignore modern society and step out in faith and serve the poor, but I also understand that Americans have been brainwashed into this lifestyle of comfort and compliancy that goes against every ounce of human nature.
The fruit of silence is
prayer.
The fruit of prayer is
faith.
The fruit of faith is
love.
The fruit of love is
service.
The fruit of service is
peace.
Other than the bout of Dominican poison ivy that is beginning to ravage my entire body, life is good. This summer has been excellent for me. My eyes have been peeled open to the reality of the world outside the United States. On another note, it is a beautiful sight to my blue eyes to see that Coach Beason, I mean "GAC" is still out and about in this world. I sleep better at night knowing that he is there, roaming facebook, myspace, and probably all of cyberspace defending the lowliest of low ones like myself and Lee Kee. God bless you GAC and may hell be easy on your soul Mr. Wright.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Keeping It Simple
Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb-nail. Simplify, simplify. Instead of three meals a day, if it be necessary eat but one; instead of a hundred dishes, five; and reduce other things in proportion.
"Where I lived, And What I Lived For"
Those are powerful words. We clutter and over complicate everything. "Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity." I respect that and I am learning to love it. Resourcefulness and simplicity are an innate part of Dominican culture and I am quickly falling in love with their simplistic way of life. Nature is our home, nature is our gift, and above all, nature is our sanctuary and connector to the Creator.
"Where I lived, And What I Lived For"
Those are powerful words. We clutter and over complicate everything. "Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity." I respect that and I am learning to love it. Resourcefulness and simplicity are an innate part of Dominican culture and I am quickly falling in love with their simplistic way of life. Nature is our home, nature is our gift, and above all, nature is our sanctuary and connector to the Creator.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
la Republica Dominicana
This place is wild. Out at the camp where I sleep, I wake up to horses, cows, roosters; if it can make a noise, it gets me up at 6:30 AM. I ride my motorcycle down the unpaved roads of Bobita through La Caratacano past the small, electricity-less "homes." Now when I say "homes," think of a big walk in closet and that is about what I'm talking about. The "roads" here are treacherous. They are flooded with motorcycles and the people have no rules in terms of driving. It is unbelievable. It truly is incredible. I think the biggest thing that I have learned here so far has been the fact that I'm rich to the world's standards.
I think every person in America should visit a 3rd world nation. It would scare you into thinking twice about what we(Americans) spend our money on. People live here without running water and electricity, but at the same time, on the whole, seem more at peace with life than 90% of Americans. Money is not the root of happiness. People here develop relationships and value friendships more so than anything else. It is a beautifully rich culture in terms of valuing what is important in life. That is it for now, there is something to chew on. I miss you all, but I'm loving life.
I think every person in America should visit a 3rd world nation. It would scare you into thinking twice about what we(Americans) spend our money on. People live here without running water and electricity, but at the same time, on the whole, seem more at peace with life than 90% of Americans. Money is not the root of happiness. People here develop relationships and value friendships more so than anything else. It is a beautifully rich culture in terms of valuing what is important in life. That is it for now, there is something to chew on. I miss you all, but I'm loving life.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Ah, New Jersey
Now I wasn't expecting anyone to roll out the red carpet for my return to New Jersey, but I did get a pleasant surprise from these guys: 
Throughout the past four years, when I cruised the mean streets of Searcy, Arkansas, I can only recall one circumstance when I was flipped off. Even then, all they did was give me the bird, no big deal. No one ever rolled their window down, barked obscenities through their mirrors at me while they attempted to cut me off, no one ever threw something out their window at my car etc. While driving around town today, I was greeted not once, no not twice, but three times by separate groups of guys who cursed me out because of my driving habits. I went to buy a baseball glove and came home. We're talking three separate incidents in just 15 minutes on the pavement. Bah, this place is one of a kind.
Ah, the Garden State. All the dirty rumors you've heard about it are absolutely, 100% true.
My flight leaves Newark at 6:25 tomorrow morning. Nos vemos amigos!
Throughout the past four years, when I cruised the mean streets of Searcy, Arkansas, I can only recall one circumstance when I was flipped off. Even then, all they did was give me the bird, no big deal. No one ever rolled their window down, barked obscenities through their mirrors at me while they attempted to cut me off, no one ever threw something out their window at my car etc. While driving around town today, I was greeted not once, no not twice, but three times by separate groups of guys who cursed me out because of my driving habits. I went to buy a baseball glove and came home. We're talking three separate incidents in just 15 minutes on the pavement. Bah, this place is one of a kind.
Ah, the Garden State. All the dirty rumors you've heard about it are absolutely, 100% true.
My flight leaves Newark at 6:25 tomorrow morning. Nos vemos amigos!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
आईटी इस टाइम
I spent one of my last days in the US with my Ma and brother. My Ma and I trudged up the Jersey Turnpike en route to West Point, NY to see my brother Ethan one more time before I head out on my year long excursions across the globe. It had been December since we last got to see each other, but it always picks up like it ended. My brother is an amazing man and I have the utmost respect and love for him. He makes me proud. Anyways, to make a long story short, it was bittersweet to see him and then, just a few hours later, to again say goodbye.
My travels begin 6:00 A.M Wednesday morning in Newark, NJ. I fly to Miami, Fl and then to Puerto Plata, DR. It should be a long day of traveling, but all worth it in the end. I am supposed to meet up with the rest of the MannaDR team in Miami. I am excited about getting to know some of the people before we totally ship out. Time to pack and get things organized.
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