"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.

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.

Fantastic...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofDTk7j8_WE&feature=related

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.

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!

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.

"my"

I'm going to take this platform, which nobody reads and I plan to keep it this way, to vent on an issue that bothers me to no end. I cannot express my absolute hatred when people refer to their parents, grandparents, or aunts/uncles as plain "mom" or "dad." Here is an example:

Girl of no relation to me: "So I talked to MOM and she said that GRANDMA, MOM, I are going to go shopping for a present for DAD. MOM wants to suprise him with something for his birthday."

Me: "Are we related?"

Girl of no relation to me: "Umm...no. What are you talking about?"



Am I crazy or does this bother the piss out of anybody else? They are not my parents. Do not make any inference that they might be. I have my own set of parents and I would not trade, barder, or sell them for yours, nor would I consider giving any person the satisfaction of referring to my parents as yours. Call me selfish, but I'm throwing the "my" in front of "mom" or "dad." Take a hint people, we do not want your parents.

On one occassion, I was semi-dating a girl when she referred to her parents as "Mom" and "Dad," leaving out the essential "my." That is a big no no. What I read from the dropped "my" was this girl was wanting me to refer to her parents as mine as well, virtually hinting that I was, inevitably, going to be related to them. This improper word usage got this girl dropped. When she asked what happened, I pulled the George Costanza's "It's not you, it's me." But seriously, it bothers me and I felt like she was trying to force her parents on me. That is not cool. I don't like people enough to have cheesy parents forced in my life.

Let's all be proud of our parents. From the bottom of my heart, use the "my."