Have laptop, will travel

Robbed!

2011-07-04T15:25:00.000-04:00

So yesterday I experienced a first.

For the first time in all my years of traveling I was robbed!

I've been warned a million times about theft in Nairobi (a.k.a. "Nairobbery"), abut the endless string of thugs and tricksters and pickpockets roaming the streets, but apart from a few close calls, I've never fallen victim... until now.

Yesterday I boarded a 24 bus from the Kencom bus station downtown. I sat next to the window, listening to This American Life and generally just tuning everything out.

Then, a couple of pretty sketchy guys got on the bus and started looking for seats. One of them sat next to me. I was a bit cautious, but the bus was nearly full, so I didn't think much of it.

Once the bus started rolling, the guy sitting next to me "dropped" a few coins. Like the nice guy I am, I helped to pick them up. He seemed really concerned that there was another coin somewhere, so he asked to switch me seats. I begrudgingly accepted.

By this point, I was getting really suspicious... This guy seemed a bit off for some reason. I held my backpack on my lap and checked and re-checked that all the zippers were secured.

At one point, he said something about a police checkpoint and put on his seat belt. Knowing that police used to really crack down on passengers not wearing seat belts, I put mine on as well.

A few minutes later, he and his friend got off the bus. As they were walking to the front, I shook my head wondering what that was all about. My backpack was totally fine, and there was no way they could have gotten into my pockets... I had jeans on.

Wait. My pockets! I felt my pockets and realized that my small local Nokia phone in my left pocket was completely gone. My right pocket, which once held 100 shillings (about $1) was also empty.

Robbed!

Somehow in the midst of all the shuffling and seat belts and coin dropping, the trickster was able to get into both pockets, take the contents and walk away without me feeling a thing!

I immediately ran to the front of the bus and yelled that my phone had been stolen, but by the time I reached the door, the bus had already moved ahead about a quarter mile. I jumped off and started running back to where the thieves alighted, but it was clear that they were long gone.

Thankfully, the phone was cheap and I had an almost identical backup in my suitcase that just needed a new battery. I was even able to get my old number back on my new phone. Apart from a few lost phone numbers, I'm back to where I was just one day ago.

I guess, apart from a valuable learning experience, I can take consolation in one thing... When the pickpockets finally looked at what they had stolen from the ignorant mzungu (white person), they must have been sorely disappointed. After taking into account their fare for the bus and a matatu back to town, they made off with a $15 phone and about $0.23 in change.

I hope it was worth it, jerkwads! :)

Samwel!

2011-06-15T15:05:00.000-04:00

I had a really cool opportunity today. I got to meet and hang out with the child I sponsor through World Vision.

I've been sponsoring Samwel for about... wow. Three and a half years now. Two summers ago, I was here in Nairobi but thought for some reason that he was located far outside of the city. Turns out, as I discovered shortly after coming home in '09, that his family lives in Riruta, an area right on the edge of Nairobi. Oops!

Anyway, this year I decided to make the effort to see him, and it turned out great.

Samwel, now age 11, is a super shy kid, but just as sweet as can be. He and his father met me at the World Vision Riruta office. We chatted for a while, had chai, then they took me (along with a World Vision staff member) to their home in a slum-like part of town.

Afterwards, we went out to this restaurant that the World Vision guy thought would be good. And it was. Wow. It was.

The place serves only kienyaji chicken, which is I guess Kenya's version of free range. No hormones, cages, etc. But the way they serve it is hilarious.

You order how much chicken you want (quarter, half, whole, etc.), then they bring it out on this heaping platter along with chapati, fried plantains, fried onions, spiced chips (french fries), fried hard boiled eggs, tomatoes and roasted maize.

Ho-ly cow. Or chicken in this case. I could see how people would worship it. It really was a sick amount of food.

The look on Samwel's face when the massive platter came out was priceless. Pure and utter shock. His family is quite poor, so "feasting" is not something he is particularly used to.

At first I felt really bad trying to imagine what Samwel and his father were thinking. I felt guilty for unintentionally flaunting wealth and abundance in front of them (even though it wasn't me who chose the restaurant).

But then I watched as Samwel started tearing into the food. His disbelief became pure joy. He started practically shoveling the food in his mouth with a giant smile on his face. When he realized that he could eat as much as he wanted, the rest of the world undoubtedly became a bit dim.

When we were finished, our table looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. Chicken bones, streaks of grease, used napkins, toothpicks... and to the side, leaning back with a silly grin on his face, was Samwel. Content. Satisfied. Happy.

It was an image I don't think I'll forget for a long time.

Chillin' in Kibera

2011-06-14T13:43:00.000-04:00

Man, I have been slammed these last few weeks. Or months. I don't even know. Kenya, Haiti, Israel, Kenya again... It's exhausting. And awesome. But yeah, exhausting.

Right now I'm in Kibera Slum in Nairobi, my "home base" while I spend the summer in Kenya with World Next Door's summer interns. I'm living once again with the family of Pastor Fred, the amazing Kenyan pastor I wrote about two summers ago.

It's great. Being in the slum night and day can definitely be uncomfortable at times (more on that in my WND article going live tomorrow), but I'm having a blast.

Cute alert: there is a little stray kitten that lives in my compound here in Kibera. Poor thing has no idea it's going to be dinner some day. KIDDING!!! Nobody here eats cats! Are you kidding me? Sick. I think I'll name it Muffins McNasty, because that's an awesome name.

Um, anyway...

So far, the interns have done remarkably well, especially considering the crazy stuff that has happened to WND interns in the past: Scott having his lungs try to eat their way out via his soul (a.k.a. staph pneumonia), Christine opening her body up as a safe haven for countless tropical diseases looking for a home, Chris almost getting thrown in a Ukrainian jail, Scott (he made the list twice??) having a policeman's AK47 jabbed in his chest (don't worry... it was all a misunderstanding)...

The worst we've had so far this summer is one female intern having lewd comments spoken to her by a creepy man on a deserted street and another texting me in a panic because her host brothers were taking her clubbing against her will (again, it was all just a misunderstanding...). So far so good, right?

Actually, reading back over that list, I'm surprised anyone signs up to be a WND intern. Good thing I had them sign waivers. :)

Anyway, moving on. I'm not going to overload this blog with pictures (you can see my flickr account for my favorites), but occasionally I'll take a picture or two that I really, really love. Those I'll have to share. Like this one!

Random transition... What I'm reading right now:

The Years of Rice and Salt by Kim Stanley Robinson - Second time I've read this one. Really fascinating alternative history novel that tells the story of modern history if the black plague had killed off 99% of Europe. The book follows the same 5-6 main characters via their reincarnation into new bodies (they keep the same first letters of their names, but forget their previous lives). Interesting technique! Verdict: RECOMMENDED
Legacy of Ashes by Tim Weiner - A history of the CIA based on documents released in the last 10 years or so. Only a little ways into the book (say, the 1950's) and let's just say the CIA isn't exactly doing a bang-up job so far. Don't worry, I'm sure they'll come around and become an altruistic force for good in the world, right? Verdict: SO FAR, SO GOOD
Deep Ancestry by Spencer Wells - Actually just finished this one. Super interesting book about genetics and what gene sequencing has told us about genealogy and where everyone came from originally. Verdict: RECOMMENDED
Red Mars by Kim Stanley Robinson - Just started this. The first of a trilogy of "hard" sci-fi books about the not-too-distant colonization of Mars. "Hard" sci-fi meaning there are no ion beams, Romulans or quantum flux, but technology that could, conceivably, come about in the next 100 years. Verdict: SO FAR, SO GOOD

There are other books I'm in the middle of, but I didn't bring them with me to Kenya because of weight. Yeah, I know it's weird, but I usually have 6 or 7 books going at one time. I like to keep things interesting. :)

Well, I guess that's it for now. I'll do my best to keep this blog updated as I travel.

Later!

Muffins McNasty says "later" too.

And now for something completely different...

2011-06-14T12:54:00.000-04:00

Well hello there!

Obviously, I haven't written on this blog in forever. I've been pouring all my writing energy into World Next Door, the non-profit photojournalism organization I started last year. Which has been a blast. For real.

But one thing I have been missing is a place to post all the stuff that doesn't fall into the category of "travel photojournalism written for the purpose of engaging suburban Americans in social justice issues..."

How I look these days. :)

I mean, I read a ton of books nowadays (on everything from quantum physics to stone age archaeology to child psychology to biographies... not to mention the stack of sci-fi books I plow through on my travels). It would be fun to have a place to share what I'm learning.

I also experience a ton of random and funny stuff that just doesn't quite fit on World Next Door's website. I need some medium to share it with everyone who cares.

Finally, I just really want a place to write where I don't have to worry (too much) about how long the posts are or whether they have great pictures, etc.

So yeah. That's why I'm restarting this blog.

Feel free to follow if you'd like. For those of you who are still subscribed to this blog from back when it was the embryonic World Next Door, you are under no pressure to keep following. I will not be offended if you unsubscribe!

World Next Door is Live!

2009-07-03T08:01:00.003-04:00

Ok, so if you haven't already heard, I am now the director of World Next Door, Inc., a fully operational 501(c)3 organization that is officially off and running.

As a result, I have been so busy doing director type things and writing for my organization that I haven't even been able to spare a thought for this blog.

But the other day I realized, "What if there are people who used to follow my blog that don't even know about World Next Door? They're really missing out!"

Right now I am leading a team of three interns (what? Interns already???) in Nairobi, Kenya. We've been here about three weeks with five more to go, and we are posting up a storm.

So what are you waiting for? Check it out!!! www.worldnextdoor.org

See you over there!

Slumdog Millionaire: So accurate it's creepy...

2009-02-25T13:32:00.010-05:00

A lot of people have been asking me lately what I though of the movie Slumdog Millionaire. It might be because of my stellar reputation as a world-renowned movie critic, but it is more likely because I just spent three months in India. Hmmm... Not sure.

Ok. No critical build-up to my final opinion here. Slumdog ROCKED. It was awesome. Fantastic. Whatever you want to call it. I loved it.

Seriously, if you haven't seen Slumdog Millionaire yet, you need to. And not just because it won 8 Oscars. I would recommend it hands down even if it hadn't won a single Academy Award. I've already seen it twice, I'd easily see it again, and the soundtrack has been playing non-stop in my car for 2 days.

Slumdog Millionaire is a must-see movie.
So go see it. You must.

So why did I like it so much? Why all this hype?

Because Slumdog Millionaire captured poverty in India like nothing I've ever seen. The images of people and places in the movie were so spot on that it took my breath away. I felt like someone was reaching into my memory and pulling out the exact things I had seen and experienced.

In fact, it genuinely was a little creepy, because of the sheer volume of sights and sounds in the movie that matched my trip exactly.

At one point in the movie, there is a little girl wearing a filthy yellow dress picking through a massive pile of garbage. Children like her (called "rag-pickers" in India) were a common sight in New Delhi. Once, as we were driving around a corner in my neighborhood, I saw a little girl, clothes filthy, picking through a heap of trash. I think her dress might even have been yellow. The exact same image.

Later in the movie, two young boys make money by walking through a train, selling things to the passengers. I travelled in the exact same type of train, and yes... little boys tried to sell me stuff.

Slumdog's protagonist, a boy who grew up in a Mumbai slum.

One image in the movie is of a little beggar girl tapping on the window of a car and asking for food by making motions with her hands. The image was spot on, even down to her hand motions and the little bobble of her head.

Then there was the stuff that was so accurate it was creepy. At one point they show a little blind boy begging at the bottom of the stairs in a subway (underground passage). I used to regularly go through a subway to avoid crossing the crazy street above, and just about every time I would see a little blind boy begging.

And to top it all off, there is a song playing in the background of one scene which of course happened to be from one of three Bollywood movies I saw while in India. What are the chances?

I could go on, but I think you get the idea. Slumdog Millionaire captures poverty in India well.

But from just reading this you would think that it's a really depressing movie. That it's all beggars and garbage and poverty. And there is a fair share of really difficult images. But in the end, the movie leaves you with a feeling of hope... of redemption. On top of all that, the movie revolves around a simple and beautiful love story.

And come on. Who doesn't love... [SPOILER ALERT] ...a happy ending???

Excuses excuses...

2009-02-21T15:55:00.021-05:00

Well, there's no getting around it. I haven't posted anything on this blog for ages. There are actually plenty of completely legitimate reasons too. Seriously!

What, you don't believe me? Well here... let me share a few heartfelt excuses (that are actually just a pathetic attempt to creatively explain what I've been up to...).

Excuse #1: I've just been so busy!

As I mentioned in a previous post, I am in the process of getting a not-for-profit photojournalism ministry started. It's called World Next Door, and it has been totally consuming my life since I got back from India.

In the past 4 months the organization has been incorporated with the State of Indiana, we've officially created a board of directors and just last week I sent in the application to officially become a not-for-profit with the IRS.

That, along with creating a website, reading through applications for our summer internship and sending out support letters, has made me a pretty busy guy... Oh, and did I mention I'm putting in 25 hours a week doing temp maintenance work for a factory?

I have also been spending some quality time with Chuck-E-Cheese.

Excuse #2: I don't want to bore people...

You see, a bunch of people are signed up to get emails whenever I update my blog. The problem is, a lot of them signed up for those when I was off doing crazy stuff in India. Now that I'm home, there's not nearly as many cool moments to share (not yet at least).

Also, once worldnextdoor.org launches in April, all of my experiences and crazy stories will be posted as part of that online magazine. This blog will become more of an outlet for my personal musings, spiritual discoveries and reflections on being the director of a groundbreaking not-for-profit.

If you want to stick around for that, feel free. If not, you won't hurt my feelings. :)

Excuse #3: Ninja Dinosaurs

Some mad genius found a way to clone vicious carnivores from the Cretaceous period and train them in the exotic martial arts of the far east. Obviously I wasn't going to just stand around while they destroyed civilization as we know it!

This shot was NOT easy to get.

Excuse #4: My lack of blogging was an intentional artistic statement designed to focus attention on the deep individuality and isolation brought on by an increasingly segmented post-Enlightenment population.

Yep. That's exactly what it was...

As you can see, there are plenty of good reasons that I haven't picked up the keyboard for a while. But now that I am officially a "photojournalist," I guess my days of making excuses are over...

World Next Door, here I come!

Toronto Snapshot 1: Birthday Boy

2008-11-19T11:06:00.060-05:00

On November 14-17, I led a team of college-age students on a pilgrimage to the streets of Toronto. It's one of my favorite GCC short term trips, and it's hard to return without a bundle of incredible and thought provoking stories.

Over the next week or so, I will be sharing a few of those stories here... Enjoy!

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On Sunday morning, our team visited The Church of the Holy Trinity. It was an old building, smack in the middle of bustling downtown Toronto.

Because of its location, the church has become something of a beacon for homeless men and women in the area. They serve soup and bread after their service, have a memorial for the homeless right outside and the atmosphere of worship is one of welcome, hospitality and grace.

Our team visiting The Church of the Holy Trinity on Friday night.

This was made quite evident by the drunk homeless man that I met after the service. Somehow I can't imagine his presence going over quite as well in suburban Indy! He was sitting half-asleep in a chair after the service, and grabbed my attention as I walked past him.

"Hey. How are you doing man?" he asked through squinting eyes. "I'm David."

"Hey there. My name's Barry. How are you?" I replied.

"It was my birthday yesterday."

"Cool! Happy birthday man! What did you do on your big day?"

"Well, in the morning I pounded the pavement and got a few dollars. I told people it was my birthday and I showed them my ID so they would know I wasn't lying to them. Then, I drank four bottles of wine and had two joints."

"Woah," I said, smiling (and trying to imagine what one bottle of wine would do to me!). "Sounds like you had a pretty crazy day!"

"Yeah... Hey. That wine they used for communion. Is that... like, for anyone to take? What do they do with the leftover wine?"

I looked around for the bottle, but I didn't see it on the communion table. "I don't know." I said.

"Because it was just sitting out so I thought..." He opened his jacket and pulled out the half-full bottle of communion wine. "I thought it would be ok to have it. Is that, like, ok? To take the communion wine? I mean, is it ok to drink wine used for communion?"

I laughed and replied, "Well, I'm going to let you wrestle with your own conscience on that one..."

A quarter of Toronto's population lives under the poverty line.

He closed his jacket and shut his eyes. I thought the conversation was over, and I started to say goodbye. Before I could get the words out, he continued.

"She was like an angel man. I think she was 16. She was just a little angel."

"Um, who was?" I asked, wondering if the alcohol was starting to get the better of him.

"This girl I met yesterday. She was 16 and her parents were pushing her in a wheelchair. She had cancer. Cancer! She was 16! Just a little angel." As he said this, tears began streaming down his face.

"And I thought, what did she ever do to deserve that? I mean, I thought my life was hard, but then I saw her and now I know I've got nothing to complain about."

After taking a few breaths, he continued, "And you know what I did? I asked her straight up, can I pray for you? I did. I said, can I pray for you? And then I prayed. I prayed that God would bind up the cancer. That he would heal her! Because I believe in the power of prayer."

"Woah," I said, "that's amaz-"

"And you know what the father did? He tried to give me five dollars! I said, no way, sir. I'm not taking your money. But then he put it in my pocket and told me if I didn't like it, I should give it to someone else. Well, I didn't like taking money from him. It felt like he was paying me for praying for his daughter."

"Hmm. So what did you-"

"So then I was out walking and some other homeless guy I know asked me for a light. I said, 'I'll do you one better.' and I gave him the five dollars. He was shocked."

Someone from the team came up to tell me that we were leaving. I turned to David and said, "Well, it was really nice to meet you."

"You too, man. And hey, would you remember to pray for me? You do believe in the power of prayer, right?"

"Sure, David. I definitely will. And yeah, I do believe. Thanks. Thanks for... talking."

I walked away wondering if I really did believe, and reminding myself once again that God speaks in the most unlikely of places...

Home sweet home...

2008-10-12T10:25:00.014-04:00

As you can see, I have changed the name of my blog from Stop Caste Now! to World Next Door. This is my attempt to better reflect my new vision. Same blog, bigger purpose... Enjoy!

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Wow. I'm home. That fact still seems a bit unreal. Less than a week ago I was chilling in New Delhi, sweating in the sun and eating with my hands. Now, I'm back in Indy driving my own car and catching up on The Daily Show.

Did I really just spend three months in India? Crazy...

Well, seeing friends and family has been great. I got to attend a service in the new sanctuary, and it was awesome! Apparently absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

The Fam reunited down at Lucy's school.

Anyway, I've loved catching up with people, but it's going to take a while to see everyone. So I've decided to answer a few of the common questions I've been getting. This way, in case I don't see you for a month or so, you won't still be wondering about my return home...

How was India?
It was great! Fantastic! I learned a ton.

What did you do there?
Ok. You didn't read my blog, did you? :)

What was the first thing you ate when you got back to the U.S.?
Well, I had coffee and a muffin at a Starbucks in O'Hare, but Tuesday night, Mom made brisket and mashed potatoes. Un-be-lievable...

So, was the trip totally life changing? Are you a new man now?
Actually? No. It didn't really "change" my life. At least, not the way Kenya did. My year in Nairobi radically reoriented my life's direction. I got good and truly wrecked there. India, however, was much more of a continuation of where I was already heading. Sure, I grew and learned and matured, but the trip really just propelled me along a path that I had already started walking.

My last few moments with the Truthseekers guys...

Are you still recovering from jet lag?
Actually, I'm doing surprisingly well. A couple of tired days and I was back on my feet. Just as chipper and perky as I usually am in the mornings (in other words, not very). Hah.

What did you learn?
Woah. Ok. That's a pretty big one. I mean, mentally, the answer is easy. I learned a lot about the history of India, the ongoing struggles of its people and the causes of systemic injustice. I learned what south Asian slums look like and saw first hand the dangers of overpopulation.

As far as what I learned emotionally, however, I still have some processing to do. I know I learned about my capacity for selfishness and had my life's calling confirmed, but there are still a few unresolved issues in my heart.

As much as I loved the people of India, I was honestly quite discouraged a couple of times. There are so many problems there with so few people doing anything about them. I wanted to walk away from this trip abounding in hope and excitement, but the apparent indifference of the rest of the world has left me scratching my head.

Let me get back to you on that one...

Now that I'm home, I can play around with my fast computer again!
And with the magic of Photoshop, the Taj Mahal seems just a bit cooler...

Finally, the most important question of all...

Can I buy you coffee or lunch and hear all about your trip?
Yes. You definitely can. I wouldn't mind that one bit...

The road ahead...

2008-10-06T04:00:00.000-04:00

Well, my time in India has come to an end. Just a 15 hour plane ride, a 4 hour layover in Chicago and a last little 1 hour hop, and I'll be back in Indy!

As promised, I want to share with you all what my plans are for the near future. Two months ago I didn't have a clue what was next, but now I'm pursuing a vision so huge that it keeps me up at night! It's exciting, it's unique and it's just a little bit crazy.

Here it is: I am going to start a journalism ministry focused on social justice issues! For the next few years I plan on being an "Ernie Pyle" for the kingdom.

Basically I, and a team of other writers and photographers, will travel around the U.S. and the world, "embedding" ourselves like news correspondents in different ministries and locations, and then capturing the things we learn and experience on a central website.

We'll use many different mediums such as written articles, photographs, videos, podcasts, books and more to get people in suburban Indianapolis plugged in to issues around the world.

We'll travel to Kenya to capture slum life. We'll travel to downtown Indy to capture homelessness. We'll travel to Ukraine to capture the stories of orphans. The possibilities are endless!

Essentially, we will be taking the success of my India blog and multiplying its depth and scale. Just like I did for Truthseekers, this ministry will allow us to give readers an inside look at these ministries they've heard so much about.

One of the comments I've received a lot from my blog is that many people would love to travel around the world and immerse themselves in these issues, but they just don't have the flexibility (Um, yeah. It is sort of hard to run off to third world slums when you've got kids to take care of...).

Well, I want to provide these folks with the opportunity to expand their worldview, get engaged in kingdom issues and get "wrecked" without having to quit their jobs and move halfway around the world.

Of course, there are several other really awesome possibilities that might come from this too. First, I want to take groups of young writers overseas for 2-3 month full immersion experiences. It will be a chance for them to be developed as writers, but also a chance for people back home to journey along with them as they get "wrecked."

Second, I want to take groups of high school students into the city to spend a weekend with homeless people. They'll spend their days walking the streets and hearing the stories of men and women who live there. Then, they'll write what they learned or experienced, and I'll publish their work and photographs in a book for their families to keep.

Third, I want to develop a team of "free-lance" writers who can contribute even without having to leave their everyday lives. I know of a whole lot of great writers who could capture their experiences at Third Phase or Shepherd.

And of course, there could be a lot of other really great stuff like storytelling nights, live video webcasts, etc.

All in all, I think it has the potential to become a really fantastic ministry. Now, I don't know if or when it will go full-time and I don't know if or when it will become a non-profit. But I do know that I'm going to start writing for it as soon as I get home. Within a few weeks, I expect to be posting about the realities of inner-city Indy.

So buckle in, my fellow adventurers. I may be on my way home, but this journey has only just begun!

A few awesome things!

2008-09-28T01:17:00.008-04:00

I am pretty much the luckiest guy ever. Through working with GCC's Outreach team and traveling abroad, I've had the chance to meet amazing people, hear amazing stories and see how God is working in totally unbelievable ways. And the best part of it all is that I get to share it with you!

Well, here are a few more recent things worth sharing... Enjoy!

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First of all, I've had the chance to get to know a man named Stefan Eicher here in Delhi. He runs Reflection Art Gallery, which is focused on issues of cultural reconciliation and social justice. I'm not very conversant with fine art, but this is way cool.

Stefan with his wife and son. Even though he's white, his family
has been in the country for 100 years, so he's practically Indian!

Several times a year, he gathers his eclectic group of artists together for weekends of painting on a specific theme. The artists come from all walks of life. Some are professors and businessmen, but many are formerly destitute people from Sewa Ashram. Their diverse backgrounds make for some really thought-provoking galleries.

It's beautiful. At one point they painted their perspectives on the concept of "disparity." Another weekend was dedicated to female foeticide (a rampant problem among the wealthy in India). Just last weekend they tried to capture the pollution of the Ganges river. Click here to see some of their paintings.

True disparity. This little girl is sifting basmati rice, but she
will never be allowed to actually taste it.

Unfortunately, things aren't perfect with Stefan's ministry. You see, in many Indian churches, art is viewed as a waste of time. As a result, it is difficult for Stefan to raise support. Even in the U.S., he has to begin by convincing people that this gallery is actually worthwhile. It's enormously frustrating.

Which is why it was so exciting for us to meet. Back home at Grace, art is an integral part of our church. It works into our services and into the lives of our people. I think Stefan was a bit blown away when I told him this.

Reflection Art Gallery

Anyway, Stefan will be traveling around the U.S. in November, and he'll actually be passing through Indy. I'm going to insist that he comes to see Grace and meets a few people. I'd love it if some of you were to join us! What do you say? Any interested in meeting Stefan? Hearing his story? Please let me know, and I'll make the arrangements.

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Ok, I mentioned a couple other things that I wanted to share...

One, my good friend Maeven Mendoza recently returned from a summer in rural Malawi. She literally lived in a village, took bucket baths and hiked miles and miles through the bush. According to her, it was a life-changing experience.

Well, guess what? Now that she's re-entering American life, Maeven is writing about her experiences on a blog. It's fascinating to hear how her worldview has changed and to listen to the stories of some of the people she met. If you've enjoyed my blog at all, I'm sure you'll enjoy hers!

Best part of all: she's a great writer! Check it out! everythingsmall.blogspot.com

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Finally, I along with another of my good activist friends, Curtis Honeycutt, have begun a different blog called Brave Not Safe. This one is a collection of awesome websites, books, movies, blogs, and organizations that focus on social justice issues.

It will be a great resource for those of you looking to get more involved in social justice! Here's the link:
Well, that's it for now. Only a few more days left for me in India! I get back on October 7. Keep your eyes open for my next post. I've got some exciting news about the next steps in my journey... See ya!

Old Delhi...

2008-09-24T12:45:00.030-04:00

Yesterday I took a journey into Old Delhi to pick up some saffron for a friend. But this was a little different than heading to the supermarket...

To get to Old Delhi, I had to take the city's relatively new subway system. The trains are as sleek and modern as in any Western city, but there are definitely still some elements of the developing world. You see, for some reason, many people here seem to think that, unless they board the train right away, they won't be able to get on.

They crowd up against the door, waiting for it to open. When it does, it's like a mad free for all. Everyone's jostling each other, people trying to get off the train are pushed further in, mothers are dragging their screaming kids by the arm. Chaos. Finally, everyone settles in and waits a good half a minute for the doors to close!

To be honest, it really frustrates me quite a bit. I don't like being pushed and shoved. But I suppose I can't really blame them, considering how crowded everything else is here. If it were a bus or a train, they really might not get a seat!

The Delhi Metro, after the chaos...

Once at the right stop, I walked out of the metro station and began trekking down Chandni Chowk. This street has been a famous market since the days when Delhi was still a walled city called Shahjahanabad (yeah, good luck pronouncing that right on your first try!).

The street is a fascinating microcosm of Delhi itself. Once, Chandni Chowk was a bustling bazaar filled with skilled artisans and rare goods from around the world. Now it's a rather depressing stretch of shops full of tinsel jewelry and knock-off clothing brands. Like Delhi, it has lost much of its initial wonder and charm due to encroaching westernization.

Chandni Chowk today. Wow! Some "genuine"
Tommy Hilfiger jeans for only $3? Wait a second...

It was a bit of a disappointment, to say the least. However, once I veered off of the main road and into the heart of Old Delhi, I began to get a sense of what the city must have looked like before cars and McDonald's.

The winding streets of Old Delhi still look much the same as they have for generations. Tiny mosques and temples are nestled in between crumbling havelis. Small vegetable stands provide produce for each neighborhood.

Groups of Muslim men stand around chatting, waiting anxiously for the Muezzin to call so they can break their Ramadan fasts. Children chase each other down alleys while their mothers enjoy some afternoon chai. It's a little bit like stepping back in time.

I'll bet this man can remember when
Delhi was a very different city.

I wanted to take pictures of everything, but I had a really hard time asking in Hindi. Don't really know why. All I had to say was, "Kya mai apka photo ley sakata hu?" Of course, when you compare that with Swahili ("Pige picha?") it's a little easier to understand my difficulty! :)

Thankfully, most people were gracious enough to indulge me, and I got some really interesting shots! Once, after struggling to get the sentence out ("Kya apka... no. Kya may, wait. Mai..."), the woman I was asking answered me in English, "Sure. Why not?" Oh well... I tried.

Finally, I arrived at my destination, the spice market. As every Delhi guidebook points out, the sights, smells and sounds are overwhelming. Burning incense, pungent spices and the ever-present stench of garbage clouded my head. I wandered around in a bit of a daze, wondering when Aladdin was going to run by, chased by a bunch of turbaned men with scimitars...

A dried fruit vendor in the spice market. Where's Abu?

Well, after 20 minutes in the market, I figured that I had punished my olfactory glands enough. It was time to leave. My little journey into Old Delhi had come to an end.

I checked my bag to make sure I had the object of my mini-expedition. It was there all right... a tiny little box of saffron.

Gods, Demons and the Farmer from Kashiram Nagar - Part 2

2008-09-21T04:49:00.000-04:00

This is part two of the story that began here. As I mentioned before, I am not offering any commentary as I tell it. I am only sharing with you what he shared with me. What you do with the story is up to you!

-----------------------------

One day, as Kishor Massih was in the market, he noticed a young woman, no older than 30, hunched over and limping along as if she was 80. He went up to her and asked, "Are you alright? Are you in pain?"

The woman explained that she had recently been diagnosed with a serious case of ovarian cancer, but a botched operation had left her doubled over in severe pain. Kishor felt compassion for her and asked if he could pray for healing. She agreed.

Kishor didn't know how to make requests of God, and was hesitant to demand anything. But looking at this poor woman in so much pain, he decided to risk it. With a loud voice he called out, "May the pain be gone in the name of Jesus!"

Nothing happened. The woman remained hunched over. Disappointed, Kishor watched as she walked away, still very much in pain. But then, as she continued down the road, her strides became longer, her back became straighter and she began walking fully upright once more.

Catching back up with her later, Kishor learned that she had been completely healed! To this day, she remains free of the debilitating pain and her cancer has yet to return. Amazed at the power of his new God, Kishor returned home and delved yet again into his study of the Bible.

One morning, as Kishor sat on his porch reading, a shepherd boy walked by, clutching his head in agony. Once more Kishor asked if he was in pain. The boy explained that he had had piercing headaches and seizures all his life, but that he was used to it.

"May I pray for you?" Kishor asked.

"Yes. I guess so," the boy answered hesitantly.

Kishor put his hand on the boy's shoulder and began to pray. This time, however, the boy was instantly healed. He stood up surprised. For the first time in years, his head did not hurt!

He looked up at this strange healer and said, "You must come pray for my family! We have been cursed for many years. You can remove the curse!"

Kishor replied, "I will come, but you must know that I cannot do anything. It is only by the power of Jesus that I can heal." That said, he and the boy set off to meet the rest of the family.

Saying that they were cursed was no joke. For many years, there were always at least two family members sick and they had suffered through an amazing number of physical and financial calamities over the years.

When Kishor arrived, the father came out of the house and explained the family's current situation. The mother of the house had severe stomach pains, the father was ill with an unknown sickness and the boy's aunt had been curled up in a corner of the house, muttering threats and curses in a voice not her own. She was clearly possessed.

Kishor told the father to collect all the idols and religious symbols in the house and to bring them outside. Concerned, the father said, "But my sister has been threatening to kill us. What if one of us dies trying to collect the gods?"

Kishor looked him in the eye and said, "You go in there and challenge the demon with Christ's name. If someone dies in your family after you've done that, you can shoot me."

While the father collected the idols, Kishor began to improvise. He took a bowl and filled it with oil. Then, he lifted the bowl high and said, "Jesus, fill this bowl with your blood. I want to wash this family!"

He went into the house and began to anoint everything. He made a cross with the oil anywhere there was pain, and every time he did, the pain would disappear. Then he anointed the house itself... Walls, windows and doorways. Finally, he took the sack of idols and symbols out to the field where he used to live while demon possessed. There he smashed and burned them all.

That night, the family lay awake in utter terror. Each of them sensed an evil force outside the house, trying to pound it's way in. The mother heard the voice of one spirit pleading, "You worshiped us for 40 years, and now you want to make us orphans?" while another spirit took a more demanding tone. "If you leave us, we will curse you!"

The mother eventually caved in to the spirits' demands, and re-committed herself to them. But the next morning, it was clear that this was a mistake. Her son, totally healed the night before, was writhing on the ground shouting that he was going to drink someone's blood!

Kishor returned and scolded the mother. "You made a commitment to the demon again, didn't you?" When she answered in the affirmative, he said, "From now on you must make a choice. If you want to commit to demons, commit to demons. But if you want to commit to Christ, you must leave the spirits behind!"

Kishor then prayed over the boy and rebuked the demon within him. Immediately, the spirit left and the boy sat up, in his right mind once more. From that point on, the family remained free of the demons and to this day live as secret Christians in their village.

With these two unbelievable events behind him, Kishor began a ministry of healing. He traveled around to neighboring villages, bringing a message of hope and peace. The sick have been healed, demons have fled in terror, and even though many people are terrified of this strange Christian, they always seem to want more.

Just a few weeks ago, a neighboring village asked Kishor to come and share the story of his God. Soon he will return to them, bringing the message of the kingdom.

Apparently God is not quite finished with this farmer from Kashiram Nagar...

Gods, Demons and the Farmer from Kashiram Nagar - Part 1

2008-09-19T04:24:00.000-04:00

In the U.S., we are not used to stories about demons and spiritual warfare. Frankly, that kind of stuff creeps us out. But in the developing world, such stories are not uncommon. Idols, curses, demon possession... It's here and it's real, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not!

Well, what follows is the story of a man for whom spiritual warfare is just another part of life. The other day he visited Truthseekers and offered to tell us his story. You'll soon see why I had no choice but to write it all down.

Now, there is a lot to think about here, and it will undoubtedly raise questions. But I'm not going to offer any commentary. I'm just going to share what I heard. Believe it or don't believe it. It's up to you.

-----------------------------

Ram Kishor was a simple farmer. A devout Hindu with only a second grade education, he was just like millions of others all across the country. However, even from his birth it was obvious that Kishor would lead a different path.

On the night that his mother went into labor, a Brahmin priest gave his family a very bad horoscope. Consulting the stars, he proclaimed that "This child will either die very soon, or he will lose an eye."

Sure enough, a young Kishor suffered an accident which left his right eye almost totally blind. Of course, after the accident there was much celebration in his village. He wasn't going to die! The priest came back and gave a new prediction. "Now that he has survived, he will become a devout follower of the gods who will give him the power to help others."

With this prophecy always in the back of his mind, Kishor lived his life as a dedicated and hard working farmer. He constantly looked for ways to show his faithfulness to the god Ram, after whom he was named (Ram Kishor means "The Good Shepherd of Ram"). He got a tattoo of the monkey-god Hanuman on his left shoulder and a tattoo of Om on his right hand.

Kishor's early years passed without incident. Like most young men, however, he became increasingly weary of his daily routine. Around the age of 28, he was fed up with it all, and decided to take his devotion to the next level by chanting mantras. He chanted continuously for 7 months, waiting for something supernatural to happen. Then one day, something did.

Kishor began hearing voices. At first, these voices gave him suggestions of things to do or places to go. As he gave into their commands, however, the voices took over. Kishor became trapped in his own mind, watching as if in a dream while his body went places and did things he could not control. He began living among cows in a field, sinking deeper and deeper into madness and demon possession.

After two or three months of this, the nearby villagers had had enough. They were tired of this raving lunatic yelling at their children and frightening their cattle. They got him admitted into a mental institution where he would be safely contained behind lock and key.

However, the doctors at this hospital were either lazy or deluded, because they released Kishor after only one year. Even though he still heard voices, he was deemed fit enough to be introduced back into society. So, off he went to the only place he could think to go... home.

He was reunited with his family, slept in his old bed and tried to work on the farm again. But things were still not right. He was still hearing voices, except that this time, they were telling him to commit suicide. To drown himself in the Ganges river!

Before long, Kishor found himself on the edge of a bridge, looking down into the murky waters and preparing to jump. Just before he could, however, he saw a vision of a red dog leaping out of his chest and drowning itself in the water. All of a sudden he heard a new voice. This voice wasn't commanding. It wasn't angry. It was... soothing.

"You don't need to kill yourself. You saw the red dog jump. The spirit within you has been drowned in your place. Follow me."

With this new voice in his head, Kishor left the bridge and visited a few local missionaries he knew of. These Christians taught him about Jesus and began reading to him from the Bible. He decided to follow Christ, and was soon learning to read so that he could study scripture on his own.

Eventually, the time came for Kishor to publicly declare his faith. But before this could happen, he had a dream that shook him to his very core. In the dream, he was heading down to the river to be baptized. As he approached the water, he noticed that his old god Hanuman was the one who would be performing the baptism!

Confused by this apparent contradiction, he nevertheless entered the water. The spirit Hanuman placed his hand on Kishor's head and pushed him under the water. But he would not let Kishor come up for air. Hanuman was drowning him!

Kishor flailed for breath, trying desperately to shout out the name of his new God, but a shadow had fallen over his mind and he couldn't remember what to say. All he could get out was "Hail Hanuman." Finally, gathering all of his energy for one final outburst, Kishor yelled out "Jai Yeshua Massih!!!" ("Hail Jesus Christ!").

With that exclamation, the spirit of Hanuman lost his power and became weak. Kishor hurled him into the water and awoke from his dream.

After this bizarre vision, Kishor asked a Christian friend why this had happened. His friend inquired, "Do you have any pictures of gods or idols above your bed?"

"No," Kishor replied. Then he remembered, "but I do have these two tattoos!" Of course! On his shoulder was a picture of the very god that had tried to drown him.

Immediately he ran to the closest tattoo parlor he could find and had both images covered over by crosses. He also decided to change his name. From that point on, he was no longer to be known as Ram Kishor. Now, he was to be called Kishor Massih, "The Good Shepherd of Christ."

Kishor was a new man, a follower of Jesus. His life had been completely transformed. But that's only the beginning of the story, because not long after that, the healings started.

To be continued...

A new meaning for "manual labor"...

2008-09-16T09:24:00.159-04:00

There are no wheelbarrows in India.

Ok, that might be a bit of hyperbole... but in all honesty, I've never seen one here. Nor have I seen any backhoes or jackhammers or earth movers. Nearly everything in India, from construction to landscaping to demolition, is done by hand. And when I say "by hand," I mean by hand.

When workers have to move a huge pile of gravel, they carry it on their heads. When builders are pouring cement for a roof, they lug it up on their backs. When a crew has to demolish a driveway, they use pickaxes.

This guy has to move a mountain of gravel using nothing
more than a shovel and a metal plate.

Many of these workers face rather treacherous conditions, too. I've seen men resting on the edge of a four story building without any harnesses. Several times I've noticed guys climbing rickety scaffolding in flip-flops. It's not uncommon to see entire construction sites without a single hardhat.

And at the end of a backbreaking 11 hour day, these unbelievably hard-working people head home with maybe 40 rupees ($1) in wages. 80 if they're lucky. Barely enough to feed themselves, much less their families.

These three guys were hired to demolish this driveway.
They're holding all the tools they'll get to finish the job.

So what is the cause of all of this unjust labor? Why are so many people willing to work so hard for so little? Why don't they do something about it?

Well, it all comes down to this... India is absolutely swarming with people willing to work for pennies just to have a job. Even if laborers were to walk off a job site in protest, hundreds of able-bodied men and women would be eager to take their place.

Every single day, thousands of rural Indians pour into the city to make a new life for themselves. What they find, however, is a cruel and unfeeling metropolis that devours the weak and the non-compliant. So they stay. They sweat. They toil. And the rich sit back and relax.

If you look in just about every park or garden in Delhi, you'll see
groups of unemployed men and women waiting for work.

Now, before we start condemning exploitative Indian employers, we need remember that unjust labor is a problem all over the world. Even in our own lives! Look around the room. Look at what you're wearing. How much do you think someone earned for making your shirt? What about the computer you're using? Were the workers who built it treated fairly?

You see, the truth is, even though we can't see it, our lives are intimately connected to those of poor laborers all over the world! Sure, we're not forcing people to mow our grass by hand, but you can't deny that to make our lives easy, many other people must work extra hard. It's an awful injustice, made ever worse by the fact that we are so distant from it.

Now, I'm really sorry if I'm coming off like Debbie Downer about this. I'm not trying to send you on a guilt trip. I'm not trying to make you feel frustrated and helpless. I promise.

I am simply hoping to make us all more aware. Aware of the fact that our shoes didn't just appear one day on the store shelf. Aware that our cell phone had to be assembled by someone. Aware that our coffee beans were actually picked by a person's hand.

It's taken me two trips half-way around the world to grasp this vital truth: My life is connected to theirs.

Hopefully I can remember that the next time I pick out a pair of jeans...

Bombings in Delhi

2008-09-13T12:15:00.046-04:00

Many of you have probably heard that this evening (Saturday), New Delhi was bombed several times in busy shopping areas. According to early reports, 10 people have been killed and more than 60 have been wounded.

I am completely fine, and didn't even know there had been an attack until I went over to the office for dinner. However, two of the bombs went off in shopping centers that I have been to in the past. Definitely made me think!

If you are interested in following the updates, head over to Google News, which keeps a constant feed of the latest coverage.

One more thing. I want to add a very fascinating cultural note. After hearing the news, I was surprised to see that most of the office guys were talking about other things. Occasionally the conversation would drift over to the bombings, but more often than not, everyone was talking about totally unrelated topics!

One of the guys told me, "Oh, we were glued to the TV for a while, but then we turned it off."

Can you imagine something like this happening in the States? It would be the only think on everyone's mind for weeks! That TV would be on 24/7! Here, just hours after the event, these guys were already starting to move on.

After puzzling over everyone's rather mild reactions to a bombing just miles away, it started to dawn on me. In India, things like this are not uncommon. Just a few months ago, a bomb blast killed 61 people in Jaipur. Every other day there is news of violence from neighboring Pakistan and Sri Lanka.

South Asia is a region in turmoil. Sure there's violence in Delhi, but what's new?

I can't pretend to understand this way of thinking, but for the hundredth time since being here, I've remembered just how fortunate we as Americans really are. Safe, secure, protected... As Gary Haugen put it, "We live in the gentle shade of a very fair garden."

And to think... we're the ones who live in fear.

Indian Food... the real kind.

2008-09-11T06:26:00.045-04:00

Eating in India has become a bit of an adventure for me. Since being here, I've had my mental image of what constitutes "Indian food" radically altered, and I've had to put my "I'll try anything once" vow to the test several times...

Now, when most people think of Indian food, I'm sure they picture beautiful buffets full of tender meats and succulent vegetables cooked in exotic spices, saffron colored rice piled high and waiters bringing hot garlic naan to the table. That's what I pictured before coming.

Well, after two months in India, I can conclusively say that it is exactly like that here... At really expensive restaurants.

But I don't eat at expensive restaurants. I eat at the office. With a bunch of guys from rural Maharastra. These are guys that laughed at me when I mentioned Chicken Tikka Masala (I don't think I get the joke). And they eat what they've always eaten. Real Indian food.

I'm pretty sure the conditions in the office kitchen wouldn't stand up to health code regulations in the States. Everything is prepared on the same stretch of counter. Chapati, veggies, meat... They wipe it down with a cloth every once and a while, but still.

Indresh, our talented cook, with Ulhas
in the kitchen preparing dinner.

And then there are the critters. We seriously have a family of Uruk-Hai cockroaches living under the fridge. They have no fear of sunlight. Or of humans. I could have sworn that one of them cursed at me when my back was turned.

But they're not the only species in our kitchen ecosystem. The other day, Pranjal and I were putting our dishes away when a huge rat jumped through the window, ran around the stove and launched himself on top of the cupboards.

"Don't worry. We'll kill him tomorrow" he said.

"Oh, ok. Cool." I replied, laughing.

An average dinner with a few of the office guys.

Usually I'm totally fine with the food I am served. Sure, steamed okra gets a little old three nights in a row, and sometimes the curry is so hot that burping burns three hours later. But generally the food is really good! There have been times, however, when they've served up something that I just can't finish.

The other night, I noticed that the table was missing something. We had the veggies, the chapati, the dal. Hmmm... Where was the main dish? As we started eating, Ulhas came out of the kitchen humming with excitement. "Two minutes!" He told everyone.

Two minutes later, he came back out with a big bowl full of red curry and goat's feet. Goat's feet, guys. I mean, goat brain is slimy and gross, but at least it looks like a normal meat dish. Here was a bowl full of hooves and ankles. I almost lost it.

In my head I kept repeating the mantra, "I'll try anything once. I'll try anything once. I'll try anything once." And I did. I took two bites, struggling to chew and swallow the tough, rubbery meat. Thankfully, my mantra didn't say anything about finishing it.

The whole time, my mind kept switching between hilarity and nausea. At one point, one of the other guys asked me how we prepare goat's feet in the U.S.! "We don't exactly eat that part of the goat," I said, not mentioning the fact that most Americans wouldn't even know what a goat looks like if it weren't for The Sound of Music.

Well, long story short, I made it through the meal without barfing all over the table. And right now, I'm sure many of you want to run off to cook up some tasty goat's feet for yourselves! Apparently they're called "trotters," which just so happens to be one of the absolute worst food names in existence. I found a recipe here. You're welcome.

Don't worry. No goat feet here. Just some regular old mutton
curry. Which is, of course, goat meat. But the tasty kind...

So, all that to say, even though my experience with Indian food has been a bit, um... authentic, I'm still really enjoying it. At the very least I'm getting some good stories, right? I'll dominate at "Two truths and a lie" now!

And to think. I used to get squeamish eating anything with a bone still on it...

Doing the impossible...

2008-09-05T08:12:00.117-04:00

Today, as I sat bored and sweating in the middle of a protest rally (more on that later), I found myself thinking about what Truthseekers is up against. I mean, there are hurdles, traps and enemies everywhere. Bringing an end to caste in India is an unbelievably audacious goal.

To begin with, Truthseekers is trying to reach a massive group of oppressed people that don't even realize they are oppressed. The caste system teaches that the only way they can rise higher in the next life is if they stay utterly faithful to their low position in this life. The Brahmanical leadership perpetuates this mindset to stay on top.

But they don't stop there. To maintain the status quo, these "religious leaders" have created thousands of sub-castes to promote prejudice and hierarchy among Shudras themselves! Now the lower castes actually fight each other for superiority, leaving the upper castes with all the power.

And this is the system Truthseekers is trying to change. This is what they're up against. Crazy.

Millions of lower-caste children grow up believing
that they can never be anything but servants.

But the difficulties don't end there. To bring an end to caste, Truthseekers tries to spread the transforming message of Jesus and his kingdom. Let's just say this sounds a whole lot easier than it is...

In several Indian states, there are actually laws prohibiting conversion to Christianity unless both the converts and their pastor sign documents at the courthouse saying that they were not coerced! Can you imagine?

There are even several counter-missionary organizations that go around to villages preaching that Christians are evil and want to make the country a slave to the West. And it's not hard to understand why they are angry.

You see, when people in India becomes Christians, they are usually taught about their uniqueness and value as children of God. Freed from the bonds of caste, many of these "converts" actually try to get good educations and high-paying jobs. So in many villages, the Christians have become relatively rich and influential, which infuriates their opponents even more.

Who should they believe? The Christians offering them
freedom, or the Brahmans saying it's a lie?

In fact, this is the root cause of the violence happening now in Orissa. Since the killings and church burnings began early last week, Truthseekers has been working non-stop to organize Christians to protest the lack of government intervention.

Ah, but even here there are roadblocks. First of all, the Christian Church in India is very fractured. There is little or no collaboration between denominations, and with a message as contextualized as Truthseekers', many churches don't want anything to do with it.

And even when Christians can agree to stand together, it usually turns into just another dime-a-dozen protest rally like the one I attended today. Just walking to the car, we passed seven other rallies and hunger strikes protesting everything from unfair treatment of electrical workers to inadequate pension plans.

How does anyone hope to be noticed by the government when speakers have to be turned all the way up just to be heard over neighboring rallies?

What does it take to be heard?

So you get the picture. Deep cultural barriers. Real-life enemies. An indifferent government. It would be natural to assume that Truthseekers will never accomplish its mission.

But that assumption would be dead wrong.

Even though fighting impossible odds, Truthseekers is actually making a difference in this hostile environment. I'm not making this up! Mindsets are changing, oppressed people are finding freedom, and cracks in the walls of caste are beginning to widen.

Believe me. I struggle as much as anyone in believing that God can really move mountains. And at times I've felt immensely frustrated here.

But during my short time with Truthseekers, I've started to understand an incredible truth... When God sets his mind to something and his people are willing to act on it, nothing is impossible.

Personal Space...

2008-09-01T11:56:00.026-04:00

"Um, why is this guy leaning on me?" "Ma'am, do you have to stand quite so close?" "Uh, is he really resting his knee on my thigh?"

Questions like these run through my head all the time here. It seems like whenever I am in a public place, there is always someone touching me. As an American, this weirds me out! In the good ol' U.S. of A., we are champions of the "personal bubble," and rarely do we allow people to get inside. So you can imagine how strange it is to suddenly have that bubble breached by a complete stranger.

As you can see in this illustration, it is not Ok to breach

another person's personal bubble.

About a month ago, as I sat on the ground at a worship service, the man sitting in front of me began gradually leaning on me. It was pretty tight in there, but not that tight. I shifted my weight to regain my space. A few minutes later, there he was again, shoulder resting on my knee. I wanted to do something, say something. But what could I possibly come up with?

For weeks after this I asked myself, why do Indians seem to have no problem being in each others' personal space? Is this just some sort of weird cultural thing, or what?

But then, after several trips on Delhi's public transportation, the answer dawned on me. People in New Delhi don't have any personal space, so there's no reason to protect it for anyone else.

New Delhi has over 11 million inhabitants crammed into just 270 square miles (and this is just the city proper! It's over 18 million if you include the surrounding area!). No matter how you count the population of Delhi, it is one of the top 10 most populous cities in the world. In other words, there are a lot of people living in not a lot of space.

It's crowded in Delhi! Ok, ok. This is a rally, where
it's supposed to be crowded, but still!

Going to the market, there is a crush of people everywhere. Driving in traffic, three lanes are packed six cars across. Even public parks have people sitting under every tree. This place is full of people.

Riding on the bus in New Delhi is a perfect example of this. Just today I had to jump onto a moving bus with three other guys, pulling myself on in an effort to get a space. Once on board, travelers crammed to the front, lucky if they could get a seat. Most had to stand in the aisle, holding onto the rail above as the bus lurched on to the next stop to let on more passengers.

On a bus in New Delhi. I actually got a seat! Of course,
some guy had his belly resting on my shoulder the
whole time, so I can't decide if I was lucky or not...

So now, after almost two months in India, my attitude is changing. Sure, I still like my space, but I'm beginning to realize that all the awkward touching and uncomfortable contact is really not all that awkward or uncomfortable after all. Here, it's just a part of life. I really can't complain.

Besides, I've learned a valuable lesson through all of this. As an American, I know that I take for granted all sorts of things: running water, electricity, cheese... But I never would have expected one thing that I take for granted every single day:

The space around me.

A few updates...

2008-08-27T09:14:00.027-04:00

Hello all! I have a few quick prayer requests, updates and miscellaneous things to share.

First of all, over the last few days a lot of violence has broken out against Christians in the poor eastern Indian state of Orissa. It began with the burning of several churches and the murder of a nun on Monday. Now, the death toll has risen to 9, and the violence shows no signs of abating.

Truthseekers is doing what it can to support these fellow Christians in their time of need. Sunil and Nitin have been on the phone for two days trying to organize a delegation to Orissa as well as prayer and fasting meetings and a rally outside of Parliament to get the government's attention.

The whole situation could really use your prayer. It might very well blow over with no further harm done, or it could exacerbate religious tensions across the country and lead to further violence. So, pray.

Also, in much more uplifting news, Sunil Sardar is headed back to the U.S. today! There he will be reunited with his family, whom he hasn't seen in months. Pray that their reunion is sweet and filled with joy.

Sunil (right) will be back at Grace Community Church in just

a few days. If you've been reading here about Truthseekers,
be sure to go up and introduce yourself!

On a more personal note, I've reached the half-way point in my time here. Obviously if you've read any of my blog you know that it has been a fantastic time of learning, growing and doing crazy things that I could not have imagined doing just 5 years ago... :)

All that said, I still have a month and a half to go. Please pray that I would continue to grow in my hunger to learn, my willingness to try new things and my openness to what God has in store.

Finally, something that has almost nothing to do with anything above...

I wanted to share a really awesome website with you. It's being developed by my good friend Curtis Honeycutt, and no, he didn't ask me to promote it! I really do think it's that cool.

The website is called Just Wallpaper. It's a collection of desktop backgrounds that Curtis has designed. Each one is focused on a different theme related to social justice. Facts, scripture and thought provoking art... With a quick click you can replace that boring desktop of trees or cats or whatever with something truly meaningful!

Oh, and the best part of all is that Curtis takes suggestions! Don't miss it!!!

Mumbai!

2008-08-24T02:05:00.009-04:00

Ok. First things first. Mumbai is an awesome city. I loved it. Would definitely return some day. And the best part of all is that I spent less than $10 a day seeing it! Of course, I didn’t exactly do much of the standard “touristy” stuff, but then again I’ve never actually enjoyed being touristy. Just ask my parents.

For example, instead of flying I took 22 hour train rides there and back. My tickets were “Sleeper Class,” which is the second cheapest way to get around. “Second Class” is the cheapest, but there you pretty much have to stand the whole time! No thanks.

Sleeper class. My bunk was the middle one. It folded down
to make a seat when we weren't sleeping.

Inside, the train cars were a bit dirty and often somewhat crowded, but once everyone settled in, it wasn’t so bad. The windows were always open, so I got the pleasure of smelling whatever happened to be outside the train at any given moment (garbage, cows, feces…). In the night, I was able to sleep pretty well, except for when passing trains would scream by with their horns blaring, scaring me half to death!

Just about every 30 seconds (I’m not exaggerating), someone walked through the car trying to sell chai, newspapers, samosas, etc. Along with beggars asking for money and people stopping to stare at me, I never had to worry about feeling lonely!

When I got to Mumbai, I had the whole day free before meeting up with Sunil in the evening. So, I set out to see the “real” city. I wandered for miles through back streets and markets, stopping to try food or drinks from different vendors. I even went to see a Bollywood movie, although I had absolutely no idea what anyone was saying…

A Mumbai fruit juice vendor. I'm sure he washed his hands.

Another funny India moment… By about 4 or 5pm, I still hadn’t heard from Sunil (who was supposed to arrive by plane that evening), so I gave him a call. He told me that plans had changed and that we weren’t staying where he had originally thought. He said I needed to call Nitin (his brother) and meet up with him at the Hotel Oasis. Ok. Can do.

Well, Nitin’s phone wasn’t working, and nobody had ever heard of the Hotel Oasis. So, I had to get a different number from Sunil. When I called that one, the connection was bad and the guy didn’t speak any English. Finally I got him to put Nitin on the phone, but with the bad connection, all I could make out was “near GPO.”

So, I took a taxi to GPO and started asking around. Eventually I found the Hotel Oasis and a few familiar faces. Not exactly the American way of doing things (detailed itineraries, hotels booked months in advance, Google maps…), but it all worked out in the end.

These black and yellow taxis are everywhere in Mumbai.

The second day was spent traveling all over the city with Sunil and his entourage. We visited caste leaders, politicians and even attended a huge anti-discrimination rally. Basically, it was Sunil doing what he does best; using his influence and connections to slowly change the tide of caste and racism in India. Very cool.

At the rally. Lots of passionate yelling in Hindi.
I'm sure it was all very compelling... :)

My third and final day in Mumbai was another free day. I did a bit more wandering, and took a ferry out to Elephanta Island, which has some ancient Hindu temples carved into caves. Ended up being way cool. I felt a bit like I was walking onto the set of Indiana Jones or Jurassic Park or something.

One of the Elephanta Island caves.

I suppose this was the most “touristy” thing I did in Mumbai, but I tried my best to break the pattern. On my map I could see another hilltop with two more unexcavated caves. It looked somewhat accessible by taking a footpath a little way around the island.

So, even though nobody had any idea what caves I was talking about, I set out. Unfortunately, after a while, the path ended up being completely waterlogged. There was no way around without trudging through the jungle. Which I totally would have done if I wasn’t wearing flip-flops… *sigh* Next time Elephanta. Next time.

Some monkeys on Elephanta Island.

Well, all good things must come to an end. My time in Mumbai was over, and I had to get back on the train. 22 hours later, I arrived back “home” in Delhi. Super hungry after being warned to avoid the train food, I sat down to dinner, laughing when I found out what we were having. Goat brain.

Ah… it’s good to be home.

------------

If you are interested, I’ve added a bunch more pictures of my trip (with commentary) to my ever-growing Picasa album. It’s sort of like me coming to your house and showing you a boring slideshow, but much better, because you can always shut me up by hitting “next.” Click here to see them!

Mumbai bound!

2008-08-18T05:52:00.008-04:00

After returning from Yavatmal, I thought my Indian cross-country travels were over. Turns out I was wrong! Tomorrow morning I get on a train bound for Mumbai (Bombay), a famous port city in India.

Sunil has invited me to join him as he attends some sort of event or anti-caste rally or something. Again, I'm not too clear on the details. As always, I expect that things will probably just fall into place when I get there ("Oh, so that's why we're in Mumbai...").

The plan right now is to take the train from New Delhi to Mumbai and spend Wednesday checking out the city alone. Then, Wednesday night I'll meet up with Sunil after his plane arrives. After that, who knows?

The train rides there and back will be... interesting. I opted for what is called "Sleeper Class," which is essentially the same as my previous train ride, but without A/C, curtains, bedding or meals. According to my ticket, the train I am taking is classified as "Superfast," which is why it will only take 22 hours to get there! Haha...

Apparently, this is how most Indians get around the country, which makes sense, because the tickets were only $10. And get this... I hear they're throwing in a bunch of staring, confused glances and incomprehensible Hindi phrases for free! Nice... :)

Again, I probably won't be emailing or blogging for a week or so, but I'll be sure to update you with stories and pictures when I get back to Delhi.

See ya!

Sewa Ashram

2008-08-16T11:55:00.009-04:00

There are some days here that make me grumble. I meander through the day, wondering what, if anything I accomplished. "What am I even doing here, thousands of miles from home? What's the point?" Now, this doesn't happen often, but occasionally I do get a little discouraged. Ah, but then there are days like today...

I spent today at Sewa Ashram, a rehabilitation center for the dying and destitute. The mission of the center is quite a bit like what Mother Teresa was about in Calcutta... giving sick and dying people a chance to become well again, or simply to die with dignity.

If things work out right, I will get the chance to spend a week or two there sometime in September. However, even if today is the only one I will spend at Sewa Ashram, I know that my life and ministry will be richer because of it...

Upon arriving at the center, I was struck first of all by how peaceful it is. I honestly expected the place to be rather depressing. Instead, I found it to be an oasis of life in a city filled with death.

Small concrete buildings surround a central vegetable garden, with tree lined paths running through it. By the clinic is a pen full of rabbits, happily munching on veggies. The whole time I was there, a brand new litter of puppies ran around, fighting each other and licking my toes.

One of the Sewa Ashram puppies.

Most striking of all, however, were the butterflies. Everywhere I looked, there were butterflies darting in and out of trees, resting on bushes. Too many to count. It was... breathtaking. I realized without hesitation that I was standing on holy ground.

After meeting some of the patients, that feeling only grew deeper. Again, I came in with the expectation that I would see countless grief-stricken faces, twisted with agony and despair. And I did see a few. But most of the faces I saw were lit up with wide smiles and bright eyes. "To us, this place is heaven," one of the men told me. Heaven indeed, I thought.

One of the many smiles I saw at Sewa Ashram.

But my visit was not without a few glimpses of Hell. Inside the clinic was a man being treated for a dog bite that had somehow become a horrific open wound. I have never seen an injury like it. A shredded heap of bone, muscle and blood where the calf should have been. He was moaning with pain as the clinic's two nurses cleaned and dressed it.

In the children's area, I met a boy with spinal TB, who will never be able to use his legs. I talked to another who had childhood arthritis, bent over due to the pain. Some children were mentally disabled, others had HIV.

This boy will never be able to walk.

One of the young men, who everyone calls "Helicopter," was picked up off the street at a very young age. He practically grew up at Sewa Ashram. While the kids ran around us, he leaned on his crutch and told me, "I am a child of God, and that means I am taken care of. God always takes care of his children!"

"He sure does," I mumbled, wondering if I truly believed that in the midst of such brokenness.

Later, I talked and prayed with a man who was sick and malnourished. He probably weighed 50 pounds. This was the only time that I truly got emotional. As I held his scrawny hand and closed my fingers around his bony shoulder, I prayed. And barely made it to "Amen."

The man I prayed with. The "least of these." (Matthew 25)

It was an intense day, made even more so by the Delhi bus system, which I took alone on the way home. When I had finally found the correct bus, I sat quietly, staring out the window and trying to process all of what I had just seen.

In the end, I came to a very simple conclusion. What I had just witnessed was Truth. Big 'T' Truth. The kind of Truth that changes who you are and what you are about. The kind of Truth that gives direction to your life.

This Truth, which has been shaping me daily over the past couple of years, is this: The world is a messed up place, and something needs to change.

But I was reminded of another Truth as I rode the bus back into town: There is hope for this world, and it comes through the kingdom of Jesus Christ. I saw this hope lived out in the beautiful men, women and children at Sewa Ashram, who were given a second chance at life, even though forgotten by the world.

I am writing this through tears. This, I believe, is one of those holy moments in which God is reminding me of just who I am and why I exist. I am an instrument of God, here to spread peace, justice and life into this dark and broken world.

I will spend myself on behalf of the poor. I will stand beside the broken. And someday, when I stand at his throne, I will know with all of my heart that I spent my life with Jesus.

Gandhi... Mahatma?

2008-08-13T03:38:00.024-04:00

Well folks, I have some bad news. It turns out that Gandhi was not such a beacon of freedom and justice after all. Sure, he was a charismatic spiritual figure who taught the world the meaning of non-violent protest... But did you know that Gandhi was adamantly pro-caste system?

Now, I don't claim to be an expert on the topic. Like most Americans, in my mind Gandhi still exists as a somewhat ambiguous figure from world history. Also, I recognize the fact that he is revered as a hero in much of the modern world and as a saint here in India (thus the name "Mahatma" meaning "Great Soul").

But imagine my surprise when I discovered a few of the things that he stood for...

In 1932, Dr. B. R. Ambedkar (more on him later) proposed separate electorates for Untouchables in India. They were not being represented in the government, and this would have been a chance to allow them to have a voice.

Gandhi, however, believed so strongly in the need for upper caste governance, that he actually started his first hunger strike to prevent the untouchables from representing themselves in government! Gandhi fasted against the rights of untouchables? What?!?

Later, talking about the degrading and exploitative occupations of the untouchables (latrine cleaning, corpse clearing, scavenging, etc.), Gandhi said, "I do not advise the untouchables to give up their trades and professions... For, a scavenger is as worthy of his hire as a lawyer or your President. That, according to me, is Hinduism" (Harijan, 6 Mar 1937).

Once, Gandhi asked a Christian missionary to pray for the untouchables, but not to try to convert them, saying that they "did not have the mind and intelligence to understand what you talked... Would you preach the Gospel to a cow?" (Harijan, 19 Dec 1936).

Basically, Gandhi was a full-blooded Hindu. He believed strongly in the caste system and thought that everyone was born into their caste due to actions in a previous life. From a purely religious standpoint, one can hardly blame him for saying and doing the things he did (after all, it was this same religious fervor that led him to oppose British rule in the first place).

However, if you're like me, knowing these things about Gandhi definitely puts a damper on the usual vision of a small, saintly man committed to equality. I still respect the man as a striking example of non-violence and simplicity, but my understanding of his values has, well... expanded.

At the very least, it once more reminds us that history is never as black and white as it seems. As the world continues to grow, more and more information must be crammed into our history books. You can believe that when the educated elite are writing narratives of the past, the poor, oppressed and uneducated masses are the first to slip off the page.

One last thought...

If some of you are discouraged knowing that Gandhi was not, in fact, perfect, I would like to suggest another early 20th century Indian "hero" for you to look into.

His name was B. R. Ambedkar. Champion of the rights of the oppressed, drafter of the Indian constitution and born as an untouchable himself, Ambedkar rose above persecution to become one of the greatest advocates of lower-caste rights in the history of this country.

Check out his wikipedia page, read about his work on the Truthseekers website or simply google his name and wade into the sea of praise that has arisen from the mouths and pens of his followers.

But remember... Ambedkar, like Gandhi, was never a perfect man.

Good to know... good to know...

2008-08-10T03:39:00.014-04:00

Here are a few important lessons and facts that I have learned since coming to India. You might want to stick these in your suitcase if you ever happen to come to Delhi...

1. When everyone is drinking their chai, DO NOT NOTICE the slurping. The moment you notice the slurping, it's all you will hear!!! *slurp* *slurp* *slurp* *slurp* Noooo!!!!!

2. Don't say 'thank you' very often. It offends people! When you thank someone for doing their job (bringing you chai, clearing your plate, etc.), you are basically implying, "I am surprised that you are actually capable of doing your job." Woah. Sorry Mom. I know you taught me to be polite, but... well, I can't.

3. Auto rickshaw drivers are mean. Well, maybe they're just misunderstood. But they sure do seem annoyed every time I want them to take me anywhere...

4. With 85% humidity, you're going to sweat a little. Get used to it!

5. We get a lot of English words from Hindi (thanks to the British). Pajamas, bungalow, cushy, pundit, thug, khaki, juggernaut, pariah, shampoo, loot, caravan, bandanna and a bunch more! Nifty...

Ok, this picture has nothing to do with this post, but I
like it. I found this tomb in a nearby park. More here.

6. If you're a westerner, don't ever pay the first price a merchant says. People joke about "skin tax." But oh, it's real. I usually start about halfway down and work my way up...

7. When going for a run, be sure to remember which way is north. After a few minutes, all the streets of South Extension 2 start to look exactly the same. Don't worry, though. I eventually found my way home. Haha...

8. With no word for "please" in Hindi, many Indians don't know how to use the word in English. So don't be offended when someone tells you to "Just come do this now." They're probably not trying to be rude.

9. If you ever want to taste again, go easy on the green chilies.

And probably the most important lesson I've learned here...

10. Smiles go a long way. Use them often.

India cracks me up...

2008-08-07T03:11:00.008-04:00

Let me tell you the story of why going to see The Dark Knight took my entire Saturday. It's a perfect example of how things in India tend to be a lot more difficult than they need to be...

I had been wanting to see the movie for a long time, so when a couple of American missionaries came into town to see the movie, we decided it would be good for me to go with them. We set off at 10:30 in the morning with plenty of time to spare.

After an hour of travel we reached where the theater was supposed to be. But it was nowhere to be found! There was a mall there, but it wasn't the mall we were looking for.

Important fact: Indian culture is one of landmarks, not one of maps and accurate directions. The basic mindset seems to be: just head off in the direction you want to go and figure things out when you get there!

Well, we couldn't "figure things out." Wave Cinemas was nowhere to be found. What we didn't realize is that, on top of a building right in front of us was a large red and yellow symbol that was apparently the Wave Cinemas logo. Well, we didn't know what the logo was supposed to look like, so we started walking off in another direction.

Eventually, after getting thoroughly sweaty and exhausted, we gave up and paid to have a bicycle rickshaw take us back the way we came. Unfortunately, with the three of us on the back of the rickshaw, the poor guy driving had to struggle just to get us moving. He threw all of his 94 pounds into it like a cyclist riding up a vertical cliff, but we were barely able to get moving faster than a leisurely stroll.

With time running short, we got off, walked quickly back to the mall, found the theater and went up to buy our tickets. Turns out, however, that the ticketing counter is not on the third floor with the theater. It's downstairs, outside the mall and around the corner near the parking lot. What.

So, we ran down the stairs and finally got to the counter. The two guys with me picked up their pre-paid tickets, and I stepped up to find out that the theater was full. Totally full. Which means that, while they got to go in and enjoy the movie, I had to walk back the way I had come, get back on the subway and take another auto rickshaw back to my neighborhood. Hah!

Well, now I was determined. I set off for another theater in different part of town. I got there with plenty of time to spare, bought my ticket and waited around for the movie to start. When the doors finally opened, I walked up, only to be stopped by one of the ticket-takers.

"I'm sorry," he said, "no bags allowed."

"Um... I'm sorry?"

"No bags allowed."

"Ok... So, can I just leave my backpack with the guard?"

"No bags allowed."

"Um, can I leave it at the concession stand?"

"I'm sorry, but we do not allow bags."

At this point I was thinking, Oh no you don't. I'm not about to miss my movie because I have a backpack! So I asked, "What am I supposed to do with it, then?"

"You can leave your bag there at the stand."

I turned around and looked where he was pointing. There was a really shady looking samosa stand where apparently they store backpacks and purses and things for the movie. I went over, laughing tiredly, wondering why he didn't just tell me that right away.

Anyway, long story short, I finally saw the movie. Other than a jarring and completely unnecessary intermission right in the middle of an intense scene, it was a rather pleasant cinematic experience.

I walked out of the theater surprised to see that it was night time already. I fought through a huge crowd of other movie-goers, picked up my bag and went back home wondering how exactly it took me 10 hours to see a single movie...

Maharastra - Part 2

2008-08-01T10:55:00.000-04:00

If you read Maharastra - Part 1, you know that I had plenty of crazy stories from the first few days in rural India. But things got even cooler after that...

First of all, I met so many unique people that I have a hard time keeping them all straight in my head. I met ancient men and women who were there at the beginning of the Dinbandhu ministry. I met young Christian men who wanted nothing more than to sit at the feet of the Sardars and head out to plant churches of their own.

These sweet elderly villagers were among the first to
receive Christ in the area many years ago.

But there is one meeting that stands out in my memory as both unique and unforgettable. One evening, Sunil invited me to join a group of visiting Muslims for dinner. They were meeting with Sunil and Nitin (his brother) at the church to honor a high-ranking police officer who had, in the recent past, done great work in protecting lower-caste people.

I was blown away by how effortlessly they dialogued about the issues of caste, discrimination and injustice. They were fighting for the same cause, despite their differences of religion. It was powerful. And, upon seeing it for myself, it became a phenomenon no longer limited in my mind to the musings of guys with faux-hawks and soul patches!

Another experience that will stick with me for a long while was a night-time visit to a village that had mostly burned down (due to the fact that there is no water source within 3km). Nitin and the Dinbandhu guys were going to pass out relief supplies and share the gospel with the village, which had never heard it in any form...

To get there, we had to walk about a half of a mile through ankle deep mud in the dark! Wearing jeans and flip-flops, I wasn't exactly prepared for such a treacherous journey. Thankfully, the sheer gratitude of the villagers more than made up for any discomfort I felt. In fact, I had to suppress tears in the midst of the ceremony. This was the gospel (the "good news") being lived out.

The whole village gathered to hear what Nitin had to say.

Oh, but things were not to remain peachy forever. No. For a hideous and monstrous illness found only in the remotest regions of central India struck me down. The common cold. Wait, what? Of all things to get while visiting Maharastra, I get a cold?

Well I'll tell you one thing. It was some cold. I came down with a really bad fever that has come and gone for almost a week. To give you an idea of how high it was, we took my temperature at a point in which I was feeling pretty good. 101.9! Yikes. How bad was it when I wasn't feeling so great?

Well, as with most experiences of this trip, my "cold" became a valuable learning opportunity. The moment word got out that I was sick, everyone just poured into my room to pray for me, bring me chai, force feed me a bunch of really shady looking pills... In other words, a beautiful example of a community coming together to comfort a stranger in need. Wow.

I had one last adventure before returning to Delhi. The Indian railways. Instead of flying back, I decided to take a train alone. When I got onto the train, I was surprised to see that my seat was actually this tiny 6'x2' bunk crammed along one wall near the ceiling. It was, um... cozy. And quite a memorable experience. A 15 hour-long memorable experience. :)

Me laughing about how tiny my bunk was. At least I could almost stretch out all the way if I lay down!

Driving back into Delhi Thursday morning however, I had a bit of re-entry shock. It was early morning, so I was privy to a sight I had not seen before. Row after row of homeless men, women and children sleeping on the sidewalks and medians.

The sight was bitterly sobering. And it reminded me once again of the reason why I am here...

Maharastra - Part 1

2008-07-31T01:14:00.009-04:00

Well, I'm back in Delhi, and wow. What an experience! Instead of trying to cram it all into one blog post, I'm going to spread it out over two. Check back tomorrow for the second installment.

So, as I said in my previous post, we left rather suddenly for Maharastra on July 24. I was right about flying there, I was wrong about exactly where we were going. We actually went to Nagpur, which is almost smack in the middle of the country. From there, our travels took us south to Yavatmal, where we spent most of our time.

In pure Indian fashion, I almost never had any idea what I would be up to on any given day. Most of the time, our journeys to villages, schools, ministries, etc. began with Sunil coming into the room and saying, "Ok, let's go." I would follow him to the car, having no idea just where we might end up.

The end of the wedding ceremony.

For example, I had some vague notion that there was a wedding happening at some point. Little did I know that it would be our very first stop upon landing in Nagpur! We pulled up to the building, and were ushered up to the front of the ceremony. There I was, in a t-shirt and jeans, sitting at the front with everyone staring at me. Awkward. Haha...

As we continued on our journey, we stopped to eat at a really sketchy roadside "restaurant." the food was actually pretty tasty. But I'm not going to lie, I was a little worried when Sunil ended his prayer with, "And don't let Barry get any diseases from the food. Amen." It was one of many moments where I laughed to myself and thought, "How in the world did I end up here???"

The Head Chef and Sous Chef hard at work... Haha!

Driving in rural India is quite the experience. Beautiful countryside, scenic vistas, and screaming two ton trucks roaring by just three inches away from your head. With signs on the road such as "Be safe than never!" "This is road, not Aerostrip!" and the slightly ominous "Death rides the fast car.", I couldn't help but tense up a bit with the closest of the close calls.

Most of the cities and villages we visited had a similar look and feel to each other. Very green, very rural, but still very dirty. Everywhere you look you can see cows lying in the road, goats wandering the streets and enough stray dogs to make Bob Barker weep.

Some cows. Just chillin. In the road.

We spent our nights at the guesthouse for a ministry called Dinbandhu ("Friend of the Poor"). It is a church-planting ministry that Sunil helped start and is now run by his brother Nitin and sister Smita. Very cool place. Though it started in Yavatmal, it has now spread to Wardha and Nagpur, and has reached thousands upon thousands of people in the area.

One of the practical extensions of Dinbandhu is a techincal training school for young men. It is a center to teach 16-20 year old tribal-caste boys practical life skills like welding, electrical wiring and computers. This is where I spent my third day.

Sunil's brother-in-law, who runs the school, took me out there via motorcycle, dropped me off, gave me a tour and basically said, "This is where you'll spend the day. I will be back in the afternoon." Then, he got back on the bike and was gone.

So there I was, surrounded by a bunch of teenage guys who didn't speak a lick of English (except one, who followed me around the entire time because he wanted to practice). We chatted for a while about everything from movies to dancing to sports. Mostly they just stared at me.

When I got here, they told me that staring is an
appropriate way to gather information. Apparently so.

Eventually I got to sit in one of their classes and have lunch with the boys. Afterwards, we climbed a nearby "mountain," then hiked across a river to a village down the road. Ended up being a pretty fun day. But there was one moment that I just have to share...

Before class began, one of the students got up to read a Bible verse and pray for a devotional (most of the new guys aren't Christians). He stood in the front and boldly proclaimed Mark 5:9. "Then Jesus asked him, 'What is your name?' 'My name is Legion,' he replied, 'for we are many.'" Let's pray.

I don't know about you, but it left me good and truly blessed... :)

Well, I'll write more tomorrow. If you are interested in seeing all the pictures of my India trip (with comments added), click here. Or, if you are just interested in the ones from my Maharastra trip, those start here. See ya!

Well, I guess I'm off...

2008-07-23T12:26:00.003-04:00

Apparently I am leaving in 8 hours for Maharastra, a state in western India. And I found this out, oh, about an hour ago...

It was such a perfectly Indian moment. We were sitting in the office chatting when the topic of our sometime-in-the-near-future trip to Maharastra came up (it's been in the works for a while, but it's always been "next week or something"). I said "Have you bought the tickets? When do we leave?" To which Sunil replied, "Tomorrow! You didn't know???"

So. Maharastra. We will be flying down to a rural town in the general vicinity of Pune (I think!) and seeing the ministry of Sunil's brother. That's literally all I know. Where will we be staying? No idea. What will we be doing? No idea. How long will we be there? No idea.

According to Sunil, I can take a train back whenever I want. If I'm really enjoying myself, I can stay longer than a week. If not, I can just come back with him. Haha! Talk about flexibility.

So, all that to say, I probably won't be able to blog or email much while I'm away, but don't worry. I'll be sure to take plenty of pictures.

See ya!

Contextualization!

2008-07-21T06:23:00.002-04:00

One of the coolest things I’ve been able to experience here is how good Truthseekers is at contextualization. Over and over I have been impressed at the way they have presented the good news of the kingdom.

For example, on Sunday I traveled with Sunil et al. to visit a church made up primarily of Dalits (“untouchables”) and Shudras (lower-caste). After the service, most of the congregation joined us in the fellowship hall to hear a presentation from Truthseekers.

An expectant congregation, hearing the message
of the kingdom for the first time.

The presentation focused mainly on how the kingdom of God does away with caste once and for all. At the end of all the sermons, symbolic rituals (spreading flower petals, etc.) and Hindi worship, the congregation sat awestruck. They had never heard this message before!

Why was it so effective? Because Sunil spoke their language. He did not use common Western terminology or the standard Hindi translation of the Bible, which is geared towards a Brahmin (upper caste) audience. He used an entirely new set of terms and symbols that the oppressed lower-castes can relate to.

Yesterday, this lower-caste man was "set free"
from the bonds of Brahmanism after Sunil
shared with him the good news of the kingdom.

First of all, when speaking of Jesus, Sunil almost always refers to him as Baliraja - “The Sacrificed King.” Baliraja is a character from a popular peasant myth in south-west India. According to tradition, he was a benevolent king who ruled a casteless and prosperous kingdom.

In the story, Baliraja was betrayed and killed by a Brahmin, but is eagerly expected to return someday. In fact, there is still a Marathi saying, ida pida javo, Balica rajya yevo. “Let troubles and sorrows go and the kingdom of Bali come.”

So what is Sunil’s message? Simply that the kingdom of Baliraja has come! The son of God, Jesus Christ is Baliraja. And he has returned to the world to bring his kingdom once more.

To emphasize this good news, Truthseekers has implemented a new take on communion. Instead of dipping wafers in cups of grape juice (what is that, anyway???), they take the flesh and milk of a coconut as the body and blood. Sunil takes a hammer and smashes open the coconut, symbolizing the end of caste and the breaking in of the kingdom. Wow.

Sunil smashing open a coconut for communion.

Some might be a bit skeptical at this approach. But let me tell you, never in my life have I seen so many people from so many different religious backgrounds so comfortable together. On any given day in the office there might be Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists, Brahmins and Dalits sitting at the same table, conspiring to bring in the kingdom of Baliraja.

I think they’ll be ok without the wafers…

Eunuchs on the Fringe

2008-07-17T07:40:00.009-04:00

This is an in-depth account of my experience with Deshpande on Sunday (sorry about the length!). I am sure a topic such as this will raise questions, and I am more than willing to answer with what I know. Please email me or leave comments if you are curious to learn more.

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A quick glance at the Indian population will reveal that it is a culture of divisions. Because of the 3000 year old caste system, huge swaths of society are ostracized, ignored and even hated. But even among those on the fringes, divisions remain. There is one group of people that is persecuted by virtually everyone… Eunuchs.

The term “eunuch” may evoke antiquated images of Egyptian courtiers or Roman treble singers, but the phenomenon is very real to this day. Some sources say that there are at least one million eunuchs in India today.

A south-Indian eunuch (hirja).
Photo: courtesy Mgarten at en.wikipedia

There is some confusion and debate as to how these eunuchs came to be this way. Many eunuchs are purposefully castrated. Many are simply born that way. However, one thing is abundantly clear: eunuchs are on the fringe of the fringe of Indian society, and have little hope of change anytime soon.

Because of how severely eunuchs are ostracized, many turn to prostitution as a means of income. As a result, a large portion of the eunuch population is HIV positive. With little hope for a “normal” life, Indian eunuchs form small communities in the slums, caring for themselves and each other because no one else will dare.

No one that is, except for Deshpande the Truthseeker. Deshpande is a 30 year old college graduate living in Delhi. For reasons that he cannot explain, God has called him to minister to a population of around 20 eunuchs on Delhi’s poverty-ravaged east side.

Deshpande and I visiting Red Fort in Delhi.

I had the amazing opportunity of riding with him as he made his weekly visit to his persecuted friends. I walked away from the experience with a deep respect for Desphande and for the ministry to which he is called.

To get there, we took an hour-long rickshaw ride through heavy rush-hour traffic. Choking on exhaust fumes, I asked Desphande how he became involved with the eunuchs. He told me that one day, out of nowhere, he felt a strong calling from God to minister to the eunuch population. So, despite his own fears and misgivings, he pursued this unique calling.

As we drove, I noticed the quality of the area steadily decreasing. The eunuchs live in a tight, crowded slum. The neighborhood is made up of two story concrete buildings separated by dark, muddy alleys. Though I’ve seen several slums before, I was still amazed to see people actually living in such conditions.

The city of Delhi, a throbbing metropolis with over
17 million inhabitants.

After we got out of the rickshaw, Deshpande began walking down an alley and I followed. Above us, a tangled web of electrical wires was strung about seemingly at random.

Arriving at the door of the small, one-room flat, a eunuch dressed as a woman met us. You could see in her eyes the respect she had for Desphande. So few people even talk to these eunuchs, much less love, respect and dignify them. We entered and sat on a bed as three other eunuchs joined us.

The eunuchs, though dressed as women and speaking with feminine voices, had masculine features. They looked at me shyly, and I did my best to convey my respect by smiling and shaking their hands.

Within minutes of arriving, Deshpande was in animated discussion with his friends about their worth and dignity, despite their flaws. At one point, he turned to me and said “Do you have problems too?” I nodded, a little confused. “See! Everyone has problems. Everyone sins. She is thinking that she is worthless because she sins. I am telling her differently.”

A much nicer area than the slum we were visiting,
but similar in the look and feel of the place.

After a few minutes, I had the chance to share a bit about the Beatitudes while Deshpande translated. I ended by saying, “I believe that if Jesus (Baliraja) were physically here today, he would not be in the temple or in the mosque, he would not be in a government office or having dinner with some rich people. He’d be right here in this room, because you are the ones who are blessed.” And sitting there in that room, I truly believed it.

We prayed, we talked some more, and just like that, we were back on the road. Deshpande had given me a glimpse into his calling and ministry, and I was greatly encouraged. But on the way back, he shared a little more about the consequences of following this calling, and my respect for him grew even more.

“People accuse me of things,” he told me. “They ask me ‘Why would you talk with those people?’” Apparently not everyone sees the value in Deshpande’s ministry. People accuse him of being gay or even of being a eunuch himself. Following this calling from God has strained and even broken many of Deshpande’s relationships.

Yet he will not stop. “This is God’s calling,” he continued. “When God calls you to something, what else can you do?”

Deshpande will continue this difficult ministry to these beloved children of God, despite the criticisms he receives. I can only hope that I too will approach my calling with the same level of commitment and selflessness.

I have been totally blown away by Deshpande’s ministry, and I hope you have as well. Remember… when God puts a calling on your life, “what else can you do?”

Settling in...

2008-07-15T01:28:00.008-04:00

Wow. Now that was an intense first week! Well, intense in the sense that I was totally immersed in a foreign culture, eating only spicy food and relying on my internal dialogue for company... Other than that, it was pretty easy. :)

Not going to lie. I definitely woke up a few times (jet lagged at 3:00am) thinking to myself, "What have I done???" But now that I'm getting settled, three months doesn't seem quite so bad. In fact, I'm super excited about the things going on here!

I've been able to get to know the Truthseekers staff, see a bit of what their ministry is all about, and do a lot of reading and research into India and the caste system. Oh, and I've eaten an absurd amount of mind-numbingly amazing mangoes (seriously, you can eat them with a spoon).

Also, I'm getting the hang of eating all my food with my right hand (like everyone else here). A little tricky to begin with, but I'm pretty much a pro now. The most important lesson I've learned so far: when someone hands me something to eat with a big smile saying "try this, try this!", I'm about to eat something so hot it melts brain cells.

Since I last wrote, I've been able to travel around the city with the guys from the office. Pranjal and Deshpande took me to see the Red Fort and Jama Mosque, both rather stunning in their architecture and history. You can see more pictures of our trip here.

On the social justice side of things, I've been experiencing a lot. On our trip into Old Delhi, I was able to witness the crushing poverty of the inner city here, and saw many things I will not soon forget.

One of those sights was a baby, no older than two, waddling around on the side of a crowded street, totally alone. I looked and looked, and saw nobody watching out for him. Even worse, many people passed by that never gave the baby a second glance. To my horror, I have seen the same phenomenon several times since then.

I met a group of persecuted eunuchs in a slum on the east side (more on that tomorrow), visited a school for Shudra (lower caste) children who would otherwise get no education, and I've seen beggars, cripples, lepers... pretty much everything one would need to see to realize that the world is not as it should be.

So, all in all, I'm having a really significant time.

If, for some odd reason, you want to keep up with my day-to-day activities, you can follow me on Twitter. It's basically just a one or two sentence summary of what I'm up to at any given moment.

Oh, one last thing... I took this video while riding in a rickshaw. Thought you might need proof of just how crazy the driving is here...

The non-West again!

2008-07-10T09:44:00.005-04:00

I made it! After more than 24 hours of driving, flying and sitting, I found myself here in New Delhi. Just moments after getting off the plane, I was once again immersed in the strange and exciting world of the non-West… and I love it! I think…

You know, returning to the developing world is a little bit like jumping into a freezing lake after not swimming for three years. First there is the shocking cold, then trying to remember how to swim, but eventually it all starts to come back. Right now, however, I think I’m still trying to catch my breath! Ok ok… can’t take that analogy much farther (besides... it's really hot here). Here’s what I’ve been up to:

A couple of the guys from Truthseekers met me at the airport. I had to search hard to find them. Mainly because there were literally hundreds of other people holding name cards, but also because I didn’t know any of them and my name was spelled “Barry Rodrgue” or something. Close enough.

After we met up, we piled into a car and drove to Sunil’s house. Now, if you’ve never driven in the developing world, you probably don’t have any concept of just how crazy the driving is. Let me see if I can capture it…

In Kenya I was always a bit shocked and amused to see how close people drove to one another. There were no such things as lanes. Horns honking, squeezing in between other cars, pedestrians crossing in the middle of it all… It was crazy. But believe me when I say that Indian driving puts Kenyan driving to shame. Read the third paragraph of this old post, then imagine all of that at speeds of 50 or 60 mph!

Today was spent mostly sitting around the Truthseekers office, meeting the staff, reading… I suspect it’s going to be laid back like this for a little while. I do know that on Monday, Sunil will be taking me with him to travel out into the rural areas, and on the 27th, we will be doing some actual cross-country travel (taking airplanes and busses, etc.). Looking forward to that.

Please keep me in your prayers. I’m adjusting to a new schedule, a new diet, a new environment and new relationships. Needless to say, it’s a bit draining!

Otherwise, I’ll talk to you all later!

p.s. If you are interested in audio or video chatting with me some time, my Skype name is “islaywombats.” Who knows how good the connection will be, but at least it's free...

Off to India!

2008-07-08T07:56:00.003-04:00

Well, this is it. I am off to India... A quick flight to Chicago, a 7 hour layover, and I'll be on my way!

It's weird. I'm not nearly as anxious as I was before Kenya. When I left for that trip, I was a bundle of nerves (not to mention that I couldn't find my support check anywhere in my carry-on... had to go all the way thinking I had forgotten it!).

This time, however, I'm so much more relaxed. Perhaps I've developed an inherent trust of the people I'll be working with. Possibly I'm calm because I know what God has in store for me. Or maybe I'm just getting used to international travel. Hmmm...

Well, whatever the case, I'm ready to go, ready to learn and ready to have my life shaken to the core once again!

Next time I write, it will be from New Delhi...

A new meaning for sorrow...

2008-06-23T07:55:00.000-04:00

Only two short weeks before I am on the plane! To say that I am excited is an understatement. I ache to once again walk among the world's outcasts, the poorest of the poor. To sit at the feet of a revolutionary who is unafraid to take on one of the world's most deeply ingrained systems of oppression...

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotion. I helped teach the Intro to Poverty seminar, watched my friend Chris get married, wrapped up my year-long internship and spent almost five days in the suburbs of Baltimore interviewing for a position at Lifepoint Church. Add that to moving out of my apartment, packing for India and um... starting to grow a beard? ...I think you get how crazy everything is.

And somehow in the midst of it all (not exactly sure how I've pulled this off) I've been able to devour a couple of awesome books. One that is especially fascinating is Debrahmanising History by Braj Ranjan Mani. In it, Mani seeks to re-write Indian history from a non-upper caste perspective. It's mind-blowing.

One of the most intriguing chapters is focused on the socio-political implications of Buddhism. To my surprise, Buddhism actually speaks very strongly against social injustice, and was apparently opposed to the caste system from its inception! I guess I always thought it was only a religion for warrior monks who fight each other high in the mountains using the legendary "anxious lotus" style or something...

To give an example, I found this beautiful poem by Daya Pawar, who is writing about the Buddha not as a mystical god-like being, but as a compassionate hero. I hope that some day this can be said of me...

I see you
walking, talking,
breathing softly, healingly,
on the sorrow of the poor, the weak,
going from hut to hut
in the life-destroying darkness,
torch in hand,
giving the sorrow
that drains the blood
like a contagious disease
a new meaning.

Caste today, yesterday...

2008-06-01T10:51:00.001-04:00

Well, I guess it's official. I'm leaving for India on July 8! Bought my tickets, bought my insurance... It's just a matter of waiting now.

I've been doing tons of reading about everything from ancient Indian history to Brahmanism to 15th century Indian poetry. Seriously, there is a pile of books on my coffee table.

As I've been reading about the Caste system and "untouchability," as it's called, I've been struck with the similarities between modern Indian society and the world of the New Testament writers. It's fascinating. There is a class of people that is not physically touched at all (Dalits/Lepers), there are deeply rooted stereotypes about entire sections of society (Shudras/Samaritans), and there is an educated elite that believes holy scripture gives them privilege (Brahmans/Pharisees).

Add that to the fact that many people where I'll be going have never even heard of Jesus and his teachings, and you can see why I'm so very curious. Imagine how the Sermon on the Mount would be received by the lower castes... "Blessed are the poor in spirit," "Blessed are the hungry," "Blessed are the meek..."

That was pretty revolutionary stuff back in its day. Maybe it should be still.

If you are interested in seeing a little bit of what I'm talking about, check out this short video. It's a segment from a longer documentary called "India: Untouched."

The truth-seeker's fight...

2008-05-23T18:26:00.000-04:00

Here is a great quote from Kabir, a 15th Century Indian Poet (possibly where Truthseekers Intl. gets their name... I'll have to ask):

It is a hard fight and a weary one, this fight of the truth-seeker: for the vow of the truth-seeker is more hard than that of the warrior, or of the widowed wife who would follow her husband.

For the warrior fights for a few hours, and the widow's struggle with death is soon ended: But the truth seeker's battle goes on day and night, as long as life lasts it never ceases.

India!!!

2008-05-15T08:35:00.000-04:00

Just a quick update about where I'll be spending my summer. From July 8 till... well, till I leave, I'll be in New Delhi, India!!! How cool is that?

I'll be spending my time traveling around the country with Sunil Sardar of Truthseekers International. Sunil is sort of a big deal around India because of his steadfast commitment to bring an end to the caste system.

While in India, I'll be following in Sunil's footsteps as he meets with government leaders, speaks at Christian leadership seminars, and baptizes people in the Ganges river, among other things (ok, tell me that won't look good on my resume!).

Sunil has told me that he has several college-aged students that he wants me to meet, and I am super-excited about the potential friendships that may emerge. Also, I have asked to live with a Muslim or Hindu family for at least two weeks, and Sunil says that it won't be a problem. I'm looking for full immersion here...

Obviously, there will be many more details to come. But for now, check out the video below to get a taste of what my life will be like for the next several months!

Everything is connected...

2008-04-24T09:41:00.000-04:00

For centuries, scholars have viewed the world as a machine… a series of interlocking parts that can be disassembled and reassembled without changing the nature of the whole. But with the advent of quantum physics, scientists and philosophers are beginning to see that all things are actually quite deeply connected. On the surface, separate entities may seem unrelated, but upon a deeper examination, it becomes apparent that they exist only in relationship to each other. Like the parts of a body, no part can exist without the rest.

So what does this have to do with social justice? Just this: everything you do has some connection to the rest of humanity. While that may seem like new-age nonsense, I believe it to be true. Even though we may never come in direct contact with the poor, marginalized and destitute of this world, our day to day lives touch theirs all the time.

For example, imagine taking a trip to the grocery store. You get into your car and drive there, emitting exhaust that is contributing (albeit minutely) to the destruction of the ozone layer, which is, in turn, contributing to more severe weather patterns in sub-Saharan Africa. With drought setting in, families in those regions are having a harder and harder time finding food.

So you get to the grocery store and buy a pound of coffee. Now, unless the label says “Fair Trade,” you have no guarantee that the workers who picked the coffee were treated well or even paid enough to survive. You may have inadvertently supported a company that makes a profit by oppressing its workers.

Next, you pick up a few bananas. But did you know that the huge demand for bananas in America is leading to vast deforestation and pollution (twice as much waste is left behind for every banana produced)? Or that buying bananas out of season requires transportation that pumps greenhouse gases into our atmosphere? Again, the poorest of the poor are the ones that pay the price.

Finally, you pick up a bottle of water on the way to the register. There’s nothing inherently harmful in that, except that a single bottle of water takes more than 6 liters of water to produce. In a world with rapidly disappearing fresh water supplies and where 1.1 billion people lack access to safe drinking water, that’s quite an indulgence, don’t you think?

Now, this isn’t intended to make you feel guilty. I only want you to be more aware. To think as you go about your day about how your life is connected with the lives of people all over the world. Awareness is the first step in living your life differently. Sure, changing your lifestyle may not end world hunger or fix the environment… but it’s a start.

Is Grace Community Church "emerging"???

2008-04-17T10:47:00.000-04:00

Note: This is completely my own perspective, and does not necessarily represent the opinion of the Grace Community Church congregation, staff or leadership...

So… The Emerging Church. Some people believe it to be the last hope of Christianity. Many others consider it to be the heretical movement that will usher in the apocalypse. Ironically, we probably have both within the walls of this church! So where does Grace stand as a whole? Good question.

Now, before I go on, I’d like to make a quick clarification. Two labels thrown around a lot are “Emerging” and “Emergent.” Emergent refers to the Emergent Village, a network of emerging churches (www.emergentvillage.com). The emerging church refers more to a broad movement in Evangelical Christianity that seeks to ask questions about how the Church is to look in an increasingly post-modern world.

So, is Grace Community Church Emergent? No. We are not associated with the Emergent Village. Are we Emerging? Now that is the real question.

To answer, I’d like to use the “Five Streams of the Emerging church” found in Scott McKnight’s outstanding article found here. McKnight does a great job of summarizing what this movement is all about. The five “streams” are Prophetic, Post-Modern, Praxis-oriented, Post-evangelical, and Political.

Prophetic: The emerging church is characterized by progressive and often provocative rhetoric used as a means of challenging the status-quo.

Does Grace do this? I would contend that yes, we do. For years our pastors have challenged the congregation to live beyond the prosperity gospel found so often in Evangelical mega-churches. We are encouraged to spend our lives caring for the poor and marginalized, to move towards a financially sacrificial lifestyle and to embrace and acknowledge (rather than cover up) our brokenness. Those are all rather surprising and prophetic ideas, especially in a suburban Christian context.

Post-modern: The emerging church is characterized by an increasing identification with a post-modern epistemology.

Obviously, post-modernism is a very hot-button issue in the church today, so I will choose my words carefully. If post-modernism is defined as wild relativism, in which truth is denied and the Bible thrown out the window, then no, Grace Church is absolutely not post-modern. However, if post-modern Christianity is an acknowledgement of the limits of theological systems, a movement towards a more tolerant (not pluralistic!) stance toward other faith traditions, and a recognition that the truth of God cannot be fully captured in human language, then perhaps Grace is becoming more post-modern. (Here is a very helpful article explaining some of the different definitions of post-modernism)

Praxis-oriented: The emerging church is focused more on how one lives than what one believes.

A quick glance at church history will show that the pendulum has swung back and forth on this issue many times. At this point, the emerging church is reacting to the “modern” position that the only important thing is what you believe (which is itself a reaction to pre-modern practices). Obviously, Grace does not ignore the importance of orthodoxy (right belief), but there is a definite trend toward emphasizing orthopraxy. We are always looking for ways to jump into what God is doing with our lives, rather than simply talking about theological concepts. (For a great example of this, listen to Dave Rodriguez’s recent sermon “Less talk, More action” by downloading it here.)

Post-evangelical: The emerging church is attempting to move beyond systematic theology and the rampant in-grouping and out-grouping so common in the Evangelical church.

Emerging churches tend to have “conversations” about theology and are open to rethinking long-held beliefs. Also, there is much less talk about who is and who isn’t a Christian, because it seems that such judgments are increasingly irrelevant in today’s world. Is Grace post-evangelical? I would say a qualified yes. We spend little time bickering over theology and rarely talk about who is “in” or “out.” However, we don’t take it as far as some churches that completely devalue theological statements and cease evangelism for fear of judging another’s spiritual status.

Political: The emerging church is involved in politics, but tends to focus less on specific issues and more on broader social reform.

Across the emerging church, there is an upsurge of interest in broad political issues such as poverty, environmentalism and social justice. Because these issues are more often associated with the political ‘left,’ many Evangelicals see the emerging church as liberal. However, I would contend that this new focus is less an association with a political party, and more a sweeping identification with the radical society-shaking teaching of Jesus. Is Grace political? Yes, in that we care very much about how our government treats the poor and marginalized. Are we associated with a specific party or political candidate? No. You will find both liberals and conservatives within the walls of our church.

So, with all that in mind, is Grace Community Church emerging? Well, according to the definitions put forward by Scott McKnight, it would seem that we are at least moving in that direction. However, do we fit into all the molds and stereotypes usually associated with the emerging church? No. Do we buy into everything the emerging movement has to say? No. Do we even refer to ourselves as “emerging”? Again, no.

We are simply Grace Community Church. A group of broken Christ-followers trying to bring the Kingdom of God into our world. A group of activists trying to shake up the status-quo and bring social justice to our hurting neighbors. A group of theologians trying to re-discover the teachings of God through scripture. We are simple Christ-followers in an ever changing world.

If you love Jesus, read more Sci-Fi

2008-04-01T10:56:00.000-04:00

I remember vividly the first time I read Aldus Huxley’s Brave New World. I sat on my bed, mouth agape, reading a startlingly accurate portrayal of 21^st century America. Our materialistic addiction to pleasure, our constant obsession with self-preservation, our yearning for social significance… it’s all there. For the tenth time since starting the book, I flipped to the front just to make sure. Yes. Brave New World was written in 1932.

However, Huxley is not the only one writing prescient interpretations of humanity. He is only one of thousands of science fiction authors who have asked the hard questions about life, morality and the human condition in ways that no non-fiction book ever can.

But what’s the point in reading sci-fi books? Go to any Christian bookstore and you will find row upon row of books claiming to capture the essence of today’s world. Isn’t that enough? Of course not. Most of these books end up obsolete and laughable within ten years. Why is it that non-Christian sci-fi has a longevity and relevancy far greater than the “spiritual” fluff with which we constantly immerse ourselves?

The answer? We don’t know what we’re missing.

Now, I am not ignorant of the reputation sci-fi has garnered as a hangout for nerds, geeks and losers. Many of these socially awkward people are attracted to technology, science and shiny objects that can blow up planets. But that should be no excuse for Christians to ignore the vast reservoirs of truth that can be found within the pages of a good sci-fi novel.

Most sci-fi books are about normal humans in abnormal situations. They ask the question, “what would life be like if…” They give the reader a chance to question his or her own world by stretching the boundaries of reality.

For example, Dune by Frank Herbert explores the consequences of a prophetic view of the future. The Road by Cormac McCarthy delves into the essence of patriarchal love in a post-apocalyptic world. Cyteen by C.J. Cherryh describes what humanity would look like if cloning and genetic manipulation were commonplace. The Years of Rice and Salt by Kim Stanley Robinson depicts a world without Christianity. The list goes on and on.

Now, you are probably thinking “Ok, ok! I get the point! But what does this have to do with being a Christian?”

Everything.

Science fiction books will challenge your worldview, expand your mind and occasionally disturb you. They will take you out of your comfort zone into a broader and more meaningful understanding of the world. The result of all this? A stronger faith, a less ignorant approach to other cultures, and a creativity that will blossom beyond what you ever thought possible.

Sci-Fi will make you a better Christ-follower.

Of course, you could continue to be safely tucked into your theological bed by a bunch of Christian authors who see the world exactly the way you do, believe all the things you believe, and care only about preserving their fading point of view, but tell me… what’s the fun in that?

Simplicity?

2007-10-21T07:20:00.000-04:00

Here are some thoughts I had while doing an assignment for Larry Mitchell's class. Nothing fancy. Just sort of a brain dump...

Simplicity is an elusive goal. Especially in the suburbs. Despite my best efforts, I am constantly bombarded with the temptation to buy more, use more, own more, etc. Yet for some inexplicable reason, God has placed in my heart a burning desire to live simply.

I guess I could say my journey towards living a simple life began when I lived in Kenya, though the seeds have been present all my life. In fact, I have always been the family member uncomfortable with spending too much money on vacation or at a restaurant. I used to frustrate my parents many times because I was always so annoying when they were trying to indulge a little and have a good time.

So in some senses, it’s always been there. My experience in Kenya, however, was the spark that truly set the desire alight. Fueled by my own tendencies and a deep distaste for the way most white people live in that country, I began to explore what it would mean for me to live simply. That exploration continues to this day.

I have by no means fully grasped the concept of simplicity, nor do I fully live it out, but I have learned a few things that help me in my journey towards a simple life…

Simplicity requires humility. There’s no way around it. To live a life free from the suburban spiral (possess, desire, spend, possess, desire, etc.) while living in the suburbs, I need to be humble. There must always be the understanding that I’ll never have the “nicest” or “newest” or “coolest” things. My possessions and lifestyle will never “measure up” to the people around me. No one will ever look at me and think “he’s made it.” Often I will need to depend on others for my needs to be met.
Simplicity requires sacrifice. If I want to live this ideal life of simplicity, it means that I must be ok with eating the same inexpensive meals over and over again. I must sacrifice my time and energy to save gas. I must wear a sweater instead of turning up the heat. I must sacrifice my reputation by shopping at places like goodwill and thrifty threads (as if that ever really mattered to me!).
Simplicity requires a call. I honestly don’t believe that a simple life is attainable if a person is not deeply passionate about living one. Although many people are intrigued and even impressed by a simple life, I know that I will never get recognition or praise for the many small sacrifices I must make every day. Also, while making a few lifestyle adjustments can be thrilling and enjoyable, changing the entire way I live often loses its excitement. If there’s no call to live simply, it’s not going to happen.

However…

Simplicity makes “stuff” so much better. If I am truly living a simple life, I will inevitably enjoy everything so much more. My possessions take on deeper significance and enjoyment, since I am not constantly looking for the next best thing. The food I eat tastes better, and rare “treats” like cheesecake or filet mignon have become out-of-this world sensations.
Simplicity creates margin. Because the way I value time must change, I find that simplicity opens my life up for others to enter. I get tons of enjoyment from giving to others and caring for their needs (and since I’m not spending my money like I used to, this is actually possible!).
Simplicity allows for solidarity with the poor. I am not poor. I do not have the same problems as the poor and have no right to identify myself with them. However, I have discovered that by choosing to eat generic foods, carefully rationing my use of electricity, and giving from my abundance to care for those in need, I have developed a modicum of solidarity with those in need. In a way, it’s as if I am saying “though I have much, I will be content with little, knowing that because you have little, God has given you so much.”

Again, these are observations from my own journey. Some of those thoughts have become true in my life, while others are only desires. I pray that my life will continue to grow into simplicity and that God can break me free from the suburban spiral, so that my life can radiate hope to those I meet and lead.

Moving on, moving in...

2007-05-30T19:48:00.000-04:00

And just like that, I'm a man.

Well, that's what you become when you move out of your parent's house right? An adult? I sure hope so, because I was getting tired of being a 24-year-old child. Actually, that's a lie. I definitely didn't mind having my laundry magically appear folded on my bed. And the free food was always a plus. Hmmm...

On Monday I moved into Jim Hodapp's house in Broad Ripple. Except for having my mattress on the floor, I am totally settled. Looking forward to making this my home (as much as I already miss my old home...).

We seem abnormally compatible as roommates. We're both very tidy, have a ton of the same interests, and are even involved in the same ministry. Good stuff!

Kenya Email Update #12

2005-12-05T15:43:00.000-05:00

I’m alive!

So that should put to rest any doubts you might have. I haven’t been shot, poisoned, thrown off a cliff or, despite the popular rumor, eaten by a camel.

But I have just returned from an exhausting, arduous and absurdly uncomfortable two week trip to the desert. We visited desert villages and experienced missionary life in one of the most hostile environments on earth. Being eaten by a camel would have been a lot more fun. But whatever the difficulties, I made it through and lived to tell the tale. Here’s what happened…

On November 18th, we took a bus to the desert city of Garissa. As we rolled along, the same thought kept running through my head. “What have I done?” Because of my insistence on experiencing village life before leaving Kenya, I was doomed to live for two weeks in a place that makes hell seem chilly. A place so hot that flies sit panting on the wall after flying across the room.

Traveling with me was Boniface, a Nairobi University student. He was part of Mavuno’s first Foundations Class, and the only person brave (or crazy) enough to come along. At one point during the bus ride, I noticed that we both wore the same expression of hopelessness and despair. I would have felt really guilty for bringing him if I wasn’t so distracted by the pain in my stomach.

That’s right. I was sick. For two whole days before leaving, I had been lying on my bed reliving the wonderful intestinal infection I had enjoyed back in February. Now, as the bus flew over speed bumps and swerved to miss goats on the road, I wondered if I had made a mistake in coming.

After six hours of travel, we arrived in Garissa. The first thing I noticed after stepping off the bus was how filthy the city is. The roads are literally paved with trash. Well, trash and cow dung. It’s funny. Because there is absolutely no grass, the cows and goats wandering the city eat whatever they can find. Trees, bamboo, tomatoes… I saw one cow chewing on a plastic bag.

This is where we spent the first four days. We lived with a Kenyan pastor who is trying to make headway in the thoroughly Muslim community (there are over one hundred mosques in Garissa alone!). He was supposed to take us around and orient us to the culture of the place. Which is what he did… I guess.

You see, the pace of life is so slow there that we spent most of our time sitting around, fanning ourselves and staring off into space. For example, one day’s schedule was “At seven, we’ll eat breakfast. Then, in the afternoon, we’ll visit a man who lives down the street.” Yeah. That was it. A full day.

Every hour felt like a day. Every day felt like a week. With the heat, the sickness and the boredom, I was miserable. We had no running water or electricity, and the only toilets were holes in the ground. Each night I woke up five or six times bathed in sweat with mosquitoes buzzing around my head, the useless mosquito net (with several large holes in it) stuck to my skin and my “pillow” (a rolled up Massai blanket) soaked through with sweat.

After four endless days of misery, we finally traveled to a nearby village called Madogo. We spent six days there, living in a Kenyan missionary training school. The weather was a bit cooler and my sickness had finally abated, but there was still very little to do. I spent so much time daydreaming about home that eventually I ran out of stuff to think about. So I started re-runs of my daydreams. It was that bad.

After staying for about a week in Madogo, we prepared to travel to Mulanjo, a small village 10 miles into the bush. We were going to be taking a flat-bed Land Rover that makes the journey once a day. When the vehicle pulled up to the stage, I was a bit confused. You see, it was already full. Bags of maize, boxes of supplies and two hundred jerry cans roped onto the back…

Imagine my surprise when everyone sitting around us began scrambling onto the top for a seat. We climbed up ourselves, trying to settle in among the other passengers. Boniface was sitting on a rail, holding on for dear life, and I was leaning off the back, hoping the jerry cans would support my weight. A man was sitting on my lap. In total, there were 23 people miraculously seated on the top! That doesn’t even include the 5 people sitting in the front seat. It was insane.

After about thirty minutes of re-shuffling and settling in, we finally started to roll. And then, the most ironic thing happened. In a place that gets rain a few days every year, it started to pour. Yeah. A heavy shower in the middle of the desert. And we were sitting on top of a Land Rover. Of course, the problem wasn’t getting wet. It was the fact that now, the road was one giant stretch of mud and wet sand. We got stuck at least six times, requiring all of us to jump out and push. Talk about cruel irony!

After two hours, we arrived in Mulanjo soaking wet and exhausted. Luckily, the following four days were not nearly as long or boring as the ones before. I mean, we still sat around a ton, but we were getting really good at it by that point. Plus, the couple we stayed with had an adorable baby girl that kept us entertained.

The day before we were to leave, the Land Rover never came. Of course, Boniface and I started picturing another week spent in the desert, desperately waiting for a vehicle back to civilization. That wasn’t exactly our idea of a good time. So, when I jokingly said “You wanna walk back?”, and when Boniface replied “Yes,” we knew what we were going to do.

We set off at 6:30am the following morning. Walking back to Madogo. As I mentioned before, it’s a little more than 10 miles… through the desert. But we weren’t dismayed by the distance, or the heat, or the sand. We were headed home. And that’s all that mattered. After four and a half hours, we arrived. All that was left was one more night and a bus ride back to Nairobi. We had come to the end of our journey.

Three days later, I’m wondering if it was real, or all just a dream. I’m surrounded by wonderful luxuries like electricity and real toilets. It’s hard to imagine that one week ago I was sitting on a mat under the stars, eating ugali with my hands…

I can’t help but stare at the calendar in disbelief. In less than two weeks, I’m leaving Kenya. This incredible year of spiritual growth is drawing to a close. In a way, I feel like enduring the desert somehow earned me the right to go home. It was like a final exam for all the things I learned this year. Well, I passed the exam. Now I’m gearing up for my return…

I want to thank all of you who stuck with me through this experience. The year has honestly flown by. It has been amazing to know that so many people were praying for me through it all. Thanks for reading my updates and writing me emails. Thanks for taking care of my family while I was away. And thanks for not selling all my stuff to a pawn shop.

YOU GUYS ROCK!!!

See you in 13 days!

Barry

p.s. While I was gone, I grew a beard. When I got back and finally saw myself in a mirror, I shaved it off immediately. I looked like a serial killer. :)

Mombasa Re-visited

2005-10-17T14:58:00.000-04:00

Last weekend, Will and I took a night bus to the coast for a two day, budget vacation. Now, when I say budget, I mean BUDGET. With a capital everything.

It took us an hour to find a place to eat breakfast. We ended up at this really sketchy bar with waiters who didn’t understand much of anything we said (I guess they translate “We would like coffee please” into “Get us tea! And take as long as you want!”).

From there, we took a matatu up north to Watamu (the coastal village where we stayed). The ride wasn’t all that bad, except for the fact that in the front seat were about 10 cardboard boxes full of baby chickens chirping their heads off. For the first hour, I was thinking about how many animal rights activists would have been furious to see so many chicks crammed into those little boxes. By the second hour, however, I was planning to throw the boxes out the window and end the incessant chirping. Forget the activists!

In Watamu, we stayed in this tiny, run-down room that cost the equivalent of two grande lattes at Starbucks. It was really, um… nice. You see, the screen on the window only had one fist sized hole in it. The sheets smelled bad, but it was clear that they had been washed at some point. Oh, and the giant wood-beaver sized cockroaches were actually quite friendly!

But oh, the ocean was worth it… Right beyond our door was a sandy path leading to giant coral cliffs and a beautiful blue lagoon, where happy Italian men went swimming in their disgustingly small Speedos. Ok, we could have definitely done without the Italians. But otherwise, the beach was amazing!

Oh yeah, I am a BIG fan of the Kenyan coast now. I thought that my trip down with Chris in June had shown me all there was to see. Man was I wrong! Good times!!!

Good news, bad news...

2005-10-06T19:24:00.000-04:00

Well, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news.

The good news is, our house is finally starting to come together. I now have a bed, curtains and sheets! Granted, the bed is a little too big for my mattress, the curtains don’t completely cover the window and the sheets feel like the ones they have in hospitals. But hey… they exist!

Also, our pantry is beginning to fill up. Now we can have bread with peanut butter and jam!

But here’s the bad news… We haven’t had water in a week. That means we can’t use our new gas cooker, because all our dishes are filthy!

Oh, and one more thing. A bunch of cows walked past my window this morning. Not sure if that’s good new or bad news…

I think there might be an ancient tale about a heard of legendary cows that bestow blessings of abundant running water and comfortable sheets to all who gaze upon the gentle herd.

Or maybe it was the one about the abundant cow dung that now litters the road I walk down every day. Can’t remember…

Kenya Email Update #11

2005-10-01T19:56:00.000-04:00

Hey!

Here I am, writing to you again. I mean honestly, can time really be going this fast? I freaked out the other day when I suddenly sprouted a nearly full beard. It took me almost two minutes to realize that I had actually shaved days before. Still a little shaken up about it though…

Anyway, where to begin? So much stuff has happened since I last wrote. I suppose the biggest news right now is that I finally moved into a new house. This was supposed to happen back in July, but hey…

Those of you who have seen my blog recently know that it hasn’t exactly been a cakewalk. Because the five of us are such poor bachelors, we’re living in hilariously destitute conditions. For furniture, we’re sporting mattresses on the floor and a couple of plastic chairs. We have yet to buy a cooker, refrigerator, table, couch, or desks. I did find a plunger the other day for around a buck. That was exciting…

So far, we’ve been surviving on sliced bread and peanut butter, boiled water and coffee. Lots of coffee. Oh, and the kiosk outside our gate has some really good chapatis and mandazis (which, if you read email #6, you would know that I love…). So I’m not starving or anything (but I’m not gaining too much weight either!).

There have been countless problems with the water supply. Either our pump is broken, or the city is fixing the pipes or the running-water gods have frowned upon us… Ice cold bucket baths, 45 second showers, shaving with one cup of water… I don’t know why we’ve had such bad luck, but I know one thing – I’m definitely learning to appreciate the little luxuries of life.

Now, I’m not going to be one of those guys who says “Oh, I’ll never take running water for granted again…” because I know it won’t be true. Seriously. Give me a week back in the states and I’ll be enjoying 5 hour showers every morning. But the whole experience has definitely given me a new perspective.

For the first time in my life, I’m really (I mean really) looking at the prices of things in the grocery store, and picking the cheapest stuff. My parents will be shocked when I get home and instinctively buy stuff like Bran-o-Wheat cereal because I can save 17 cents. Like I said… a new perspective.

Hmmm… I don’t know if this is related, but I'm becoming scared at how patient I am now. It’s a character change that totally snuck up on me. I can’t figure out when the change actually happened. When I got here, I used to wring my hands and get all upset about every little delay (like any good American), then all of a sudden I became really patient. Weird.

Just the other day I was in the middle of a terrible traffic jam, after being in the matatu for almost 25 minutes. That's when I realized that I hadn't once worried about when I'd get there, I hadn't once thought about alternate ways to get there faster, and I didn't once start fiddling with stuff in my bag. I just... sat there. Perfectly content to spend the time thinking. Cool huh? Hope I can keep that going back in the States!

The first Mavuno Church Foundations Class has come to an end. This was the new-believers class I mentioned briefly in my last email. I was sort of the administrator for the class. That meant that I had to run all over town looking for biscuits and lugging mountains of photocopies up Mamlaka Road (you feelin’ me GCC team?). Though it was a lot of work, I had a blast. Plus, I made a lot of good friendships through the class that will undoubtedly continue for years.

There was one amazing experience with the class that I just have to write about – the Foundations Class retreat. On the last night of the retreat, we had time for everyone to gather and share testimonies around a campfire. I was amazed at how much God had done with the class. It seemed like everyone there had something to say! But the truly jaw-dropping part of the night didn’t begin until Pastor Muriithi and Pastor Simon anointed each of the class members with oil (symbolizing the Holy Spirit)…

I was praying quietly in my seat when I heard a yell. I looked up just as the girl Pastor Muriithi was anointing fell over onto her back, shouting out in tongues! Um yeah, I was a little shocked. That sort of stuff only happens on TV right? Not with people I know!

Just as I was thinking that, another guy fell over. Then Pastor Simon asked me to stand behind the others to make sure they wouldn’t fall into the fire!!! Here’s me, never having seen anything like this in person before, catching people as they fell over in the Holy Spirit. Three people fell, some were trembling and shouting prayers, others were bawling their eyes out… It was, to say the least, a powerful moment.

At that time, I felt God telling me to receive prayer as well, so I went up to Pastor Simon. When he finished praying over me, I went off into the darkness. As I was leaning against a tree speaking to God, something hit me. I began to weep. The more I reflected on the things God had done for me this year, the more I lost control.

The other thing that made me lose it was the recent calling God has put on my life. As many of you know, I quit Moody Bible Institute with only a year of school left. I walked away confused, cynical and rebellious. My spiritual life was flat-lining. It was only by God’s power that I was able to get myself here to Kenya. But now, after this incredible and life-changing year, I feel that God wants me to return to Moody!

That’s right. God is calling me to go back to the environment that almost killed my spiritual life, to help the other students avoid my mistakes, and to put into practice all the things I’ve learned. He also wants me to begin a massive movement of purity on the campus, to change the face of the student body from the inside! I’ll be going back with a purpose.

Can you see why I was weeping? Not only has God completely changed my life… he now wants to use me to change the lives of others! In the darkness that night I kept asking God “Why me? What have I done to deserve your blessing???” The gentle answer I kept receiving was “Because I love you and want to use you. You are my son!”

I don’t know how long I sat there, but when I came back to the campfire I was completely spent. I shared all of this with the others, committing myself to this course of action. A few days later, I sent out a prayer update giving a more detailed description of this calling (If you’d like to read the update and/or be on my prayer list, let me know).

This calling is the real reason behind wanting a well-paying job for the next 6 months. I need to save up money so that at Moody I won’t have to work. I still haven’t found anything, so if you can help me find one, I’d greatly appreciate it!

Whew! Writing all of that got me worked up again! I’m so pumped about this whole thing. To add to the excitement, I’ve been hearing all about Grace’s “Imagine” campaign. I can’t wait to come back and be a part of it! With the Nairobi Chapel church plants gaining momentum and GCC really taking off on a new initiative, I’m getting to see God’s work in two continents at once! I love it.

Well, there you go. My longest email update yet. I told you that a lot has happened! I hope that you are all doing well and enjoying the first few weeks of Fall (as it becomes Summer over here!).

Be sure to stay in touch, and don’t hesitate to email me. Just be a little gracious if I don’t get back to you right away. My new house is a billion miles from anywhere, so I check email a lot less than I used to.

See you in 80 days!

Barry

Mavuno Kids!!!

2005-09-28T19:18:00.000-04:00

Thought you guys might enjoy seeing a few pictures of the absurdly cute kids we have at Mavuno. Wish I could show them all!

Aren’t they the cutest?

Luxurious Decadence of Opulent Proportions

2005-09-12T06:38:00.000-04:00

Well, we’re all moved in. Apart from the fact that we have no furniture (except for two plastic chairs and mattresses on the floor), no cooking utensils, no stove, and no curtains, we are living in veritable luxury!

Oh, and there is no running water, because the city decided to work on the water supply just as we were moving in. But other than that, we are living like kings!

Our first meal was a delectable feast! We had pasta and some random vegetable stew made by soaking it in boiled water until it was edible. Mmmm….

Here are a few pictures that will give you an idea of the absolute decadence we are enjoying!

Our comfortable sofa (also pulls out into a bed!)...

Our wide-screen TV…

My expansive bedroom…

Now you have a better idea of the opulent lifestyle I have begun. I know that at times, it’s a bit much, but I feel like I deserve it. I mean, I’ve really worked hard this year!

:)

Enjoy your food and running water!

Moving!!!

2005-09-06T12:44:00.000-04:00

Well, it took months, but we finally found a place to live. On Saturday, I’ll be moving to South C. I’m going to be living with four other poor young bachelors. It’s going to be great!

At this point, I think we’ll be able to afford mattresses, but I’m not sure what else. I’m going to borrow a sleeping bag from Mo and Marcy. Hehe… I figure that if we ever have guests over, we can all drag our mattresses out into the living room and watch movies on my laptop.

I’m actually really excited about the whole thing. It’s sort of ironic that the first time I’ll be living on my own, forced to provide food for myself, will be in a distant country with a bunch of Kenyan guys!

Oh, one more thing to get excited about… On the other side of the wall of our compound is the National Park. Zebras, cheetahs, giraffes… all sorts of animals live out there! I told the other guys that we should have a competition. Some day we’ll all jump the fence naked, with raw meat draped over our bodies, and see how long we last. :)

New logo!

2005-09-03T18:40:00.000-04:00

Thought you might like to see our new logo. Mavuno means “Harvest” in Swahili (thus the wheat).

Now, I wanted our logo to have flaming ninjas chasing a monstrous horsebeast through a field of ripe grain, with the word “Mavuno” being spewed like fire from the mouth of a nearby dragon. But we decided that simplicity was probably better…

Kenya Email Update #10

2005-08-30T17:19:00.000-04:00

Wow. It feels like I haven’t written in years. Life has been a bit crazy around here. I didn’t really grasp just how busy I was until I looked at the time the other day, realizing to my dismay that it would be the third day in a row that I’d be eating lunch after 3:30pm!

I have now stopped counting how many months I’ve been here, and have begun the big countdown for my return home! As I’m writing this, I have less than 4 months left! It’s crazy to say, because it feels like I just got here. Only 112 days left until I get on the plane…

It’s been really tough recently, because I’ve been missing home a lot. As much as I love it here, I’m really feeling the loss of my family and friends! I think that after the GCC team left, I was vividly reminded of how much I missed everybody!

Oh, and even though I’m getting used to life here, I still can’t wait to enjoy all the conveniences of American culture again! My own car, a microwave that makes perfect popcorn every time, television with more than four channels… I’m probably going to weep the first time I load a webpage in under a minute! Yeah, it’ll be nice to live once more in a land where you actually have to work out to stay skinny (here, you just have to exist).

Of course, everything changes when you put it into perspective. Joy, one of my great friends from Moody, came to Nairobi for a few days after a short term trip to the north of Kenya. We got a chance to talk and hang out before she left for home. Her experience here made mine look so cushy! I mean, I’m “roughing it” by walking everywhere and drinking boiled water. She lived for two months in a hut, ministering to a people group that treats women like cattle, trekking through the desert to end an inter-tribal conflict with day-long prayer services.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had said that they lived off scorpion meat and rainwater. When she asked me what the toughest part of my experience has been, I was like, “Well, um… It’s been really tough, um… to work with people that aren’t as concerned with being on time… And when our electricity goes off I can’t use the microwave… Oh, and I can only check email once a day…” Hehe… You get the picture.

In other news, our church plant has finally taken off! We’re having our services down in South C and we have a new name... “Mavuno Church.” Mavuno means “Harvest” in Swahili. It reflects our desire to reach the surrounding community with the gospel. This challenging vision was made even more clear on our first Sunday…

After our service, we were taking a group photo on the bleachers of the soccer field (our venue is a sports club). As the congregation was getting assembled, the nearby mosque began blaring the mid-day call to prayer. When everyone finished their nervous laughter, other mosques in the area began adding to the call. I don’t know who else thought this, but I was struck by such a tangible reminder for our purpose in the community.

The following week, a large group of fully garbed Muslims began playing soccer and having relay competitions outside during our service. We clearly have our work cut out for us!

There are an average of 420 people attending each Sunday, but we hope to see that number double by December. We actually have a goal of bringing 400 people to salvation by the end of 2005! That, of course, would be completely impossible without God’s help. Here’s another lesson I’ve been learning here… how to be a faithful visionary. I’ve learned to stop asking God for little things and to start expecting big results instead!

Quite a departure from the way I used to pray (if I prayed at all)… “Dear God, can you please help John to become a Christian, or at least to maybe be nicer? If you have the time of course…” Now the same prayer would be more like “God, I know it’s your will for John to be saved. But I want you to go farther. I want you to make John into a pastor!” Definitely a step in the right direction…

One of the coolest new ministries at Mavuno is our involvement at a nearby prison. The Nairobi Remands Prison is a dilapidated, colonial era jail built to hold 300 inmates. It holds 5000. The most depressing thing is that over 60% of the prisoners have not yet been convicted. Because the legal system in Kenya has so many issues, people thrown in jail without money for bail can wait even years to go to trial. That’s right. Hundreds of innocent men wallow in this run-down jail under inhuman conditions, simply because the courts are so slow and inefficient.

Even in this dark place however, there is a spark of light that provides the prisoners with hope for the future. The light I’m referring to is the inmate-led school that seeks to teach prisoners elementary courses and basic technical skills (computers, mechanics, etc.). To support this school, Mavuno has donated hundreds of textbooks and materials for upgrading their classrooms. The other day, we took our new believers class to paint the classrooms and pray with prisoners. All I can say is ‘wow.’ Mavuno Church is going places that nobody can imagine!

So, yeah! My time in Kenya is still intense and life-changing. Even if I am pining for Starbucks coffee and meals with cheese in them! Ohhh… Cheese… How I long for thee! Before I know it, I’ll be home, wishing I could be back in Kenya! Funny how life works isn’t it?

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Hey! I almost forgot… I have a big request to make of you! Since I will be home for six months before finishing school, I need to find a job! Maybe some of you know people (or are people) that are hiring. Here’s what I’m looking for:

-Contact with people (I need to be somewhere that I’ll be able to work a lot with other human beings… a.k.a. no courier or janitorial work!)
-Decent pay (Starbucks was awesome, but I didn’t make enough money! I’m looking for perhaps $9 or $10 an hour)
-Consistent schedule (I’d really like a reliable schedule that will allow me to practice my new disciplines, maybe 30-40 hours a week. Again, Starbucks was great, but my schedule was so random, I could barely convince my body that I was actually alive!)

I don’t know if you have anything in mind, but I’d love any suggestions you might have…

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Ooh… One more big announcement:

I will be having an Instant Messenger chat session this Saturday, September 3. I’ll hop on at about 8:00am Indiana time and go for about an hour and a half. It’ll be open for anyone to join. My AOL IM name is ISlayWombats (I’ll try using the same name for MSN too, but I can’t guarantee that it’ll work). Hope to see you online!

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Well, I’m on the home stretch now. If things keep going at this pace, the rest of the year will fly by, and in no time I’ll find myself on a plane bound for home. I’ll do my best to update my blog (www.barryrod.blogspot.com), though I’m pretty bad at it when work is busy.

Have a wonderful September, and always remember… Stay Hydrated!

Barry

My favorite thug...

2005-08-10T20:42:00.000-04:00

Here are a couple more pictures of Wangai that I thought you’d enjoy… Tell me that he wouldn’t make the best gansta ever!

Oh, and here’s one of us going a little crazy with the camera… He cracks me up!

And how cute is this little one??? She’s Wangai’s younger cousin. Adorable!!!

Heads up for my latest Kenya Email Update! It’s in the works as we speak!

Wangai...

2005-07-28T20:14:00.000-04:00

I’m currently living in a house with two absolutely crazy boys. Let’s just say, they make life here interesting. Wangai, who turned four a few months ago is always coming up with some hilarious statements, and I started to keep track of them… Here are some of the funnier things he’s said. Enjoy!

*Don’t forget to read the italicized stuff… it really helps to give context!

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Wangai: Uncle? What are you doing in there?
Uncle Barry: (sick with fever) Lying down, doing nothing…
Mo: Wangai, that was a question with no legs. Can you imagine a question with no legs? It doesn’t go anywhere.
Wangai: UNCLE DOESN’T HAVE LEGS???
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(from a bedtime prayer)
Wangai: …and thank you for daddy, and my cousins, and for girls, who cry a lot, who cry like babies…and thank you for Jesus, who beats up Satan, and thank you for Uncle, and thank you for all the people in the world…
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Uncle Barry: Wangai! Take your finger out of your nose! That’s rude.
Wangai: But it’s sticky!
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(from another bedtime prayer)
Wangai: …Please Lord, help Spiderman’s eyes to not be so scary. And help him to run very fast. And help him to beat up all the bad people, who do bad things…
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(singing)
Wangai: Happy birthday to my muscles… happy birthday to my muscles…
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Uncle Barry: Wow. That’s a cool car.
Wangai: (flying the car around the room) It is a flying car!
Uncle Barry: Does it go in water too?
Wangai: Yes, it goes in water and air and mud!
Uncle Barry: Even mud?
Wangai: Yes, and in water it goes so fast!
Uncle Barry: How fast?
Wangai: Like this… (driving car all over the bed) whishhhhhh…
Uncle Barry: How many miles per hour?
Wangai: (holds up 10 fingers) This many! A thousand hours!
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Wangai: (at the dinner table) These are beans.
Uncle Barry: Where do beans come from?
Wangai: They come from cows.
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Wangai: (wearing his lion costume) Lions can eat you! They take off your skin and eat your nyama!
Uncle Barry: They can? Wow!
Wangai: And they can eat houses!
Uncle Barry: Even houses?
Wangai: Yeah! And they can fly!
Uncle Barry: Lions can fly?
Wangai: Yes. They are strong.

*Nyama means “meat” in Swahili.
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Wangai: (watching the Sound of Music, as the nuns are singing ''How do you solve a problem like Maria") They are mad at her. They want to kill her!

A stupid decision... an awesome retreat!

2005-07-19T17:41:00.000-04:00

Well, I just got done with my second personal retreat (to read about my first one, check out Kenya Email Update #8). Like my last one, it was pretty dang amazing. Unfortunately, the “amazing” part didn’t really happen till last night and this morning (right before leaving). The rest of the retreat was pretty miserable…

You see, I made the brilliant decision to try fasting the whole time. 48 hours of only water. Of course, it sounded good on paper, but the longest I had ever fasted before was 30 hours back in Junior High. Hehe… Looking back it was a pretty stupid idea to go so long.

But I guess God still works through our stupid decisions. In fact, he did things for me that never would have happened if I had been eating the whole time!

Last night, as I was miserably swimming in and out of consciousness, desperately wishing for the retreat to be over, something clicked. I sat up in my chair, got a pen, and started journaling. The things that were written on the page totally surprised me. All of a sudden I was thinking logically, as if I was in my “zone” (which usually only happens after three cups of coffee).

I came up with some awesome next steps for the rest of this year. I had a clear vision of where I was headed and who I wanted to be when I left. Then, exhausted, I fell into bed. To describe what happened when I woke up, I’ll just copy straight from my next journal entry… (sorry for the length… I was really feelin’ it.)

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Ok. So I gave in. When I woke up this morning I was miserable. My body was shaking uncontrollably, my head was spinning, and I honestly felt like I was in the midst of some terrible disease. Needless to say, it wasn’t my favorite experience ever.

So yeah. I went out to the dining hall (after a mindless and nauseating shower), and asked to have breakfast. Eggs and toast have never tasted so good. Believe me. I ate more than half of a loaf of bread and threw down two cups of coffee. Then I ran back to my bed, threw my Massai blanket over myself, and dozed as the food worked energy into my system.

When I woke up, I felt so much better. I grabbed the notebook on which I had written last-night’s thoughts and started praying over all my decisions. I prayed without interruption for 30 minutes! It was amazing! I actually sat there talking to God without letting my mind wander! Now, I don’t want to over-spiritualize the moment, but it honestly felt like God was right there, listening to me. Wow.

Right now I’m at Java, enjoying a wonderful lunch (burger and chips). In fact, I think I’ll go all the way. I’m getting ice cream (single scoop of course… don’t want to overdo it!).

As I look back on my retreat, I see a few interesting things emerging. As miserable as I was going without food for so long, I’m kind of glad I did it. Kind of! It did force me to rely on God and definitely taught me to appreciate food. Now, on my next retreat, I’m doing meals. It is hard to make serious life changing decisions when all I can do is stare off into space, barely engaging with reality…

But because I couldn’t do anything on my own, I believe that God gave me the insights I received. I think if I alone had been making those lists, they would have been something like 1) Yarp enoughly. 2) Find my do consistently 3) Happy my peoples between mountain goats…

As it was, however, I think I came up with some really good stuff. And my prayer this morning? Wow. I doubt it would have been so sincere if I was still fat n’ happy. So after all that, I think it worked out for the best. Or maybe God took my dumb decision and made the best out of it…

Whatever the case, I’m excited about what the next 5 and a half months have in store for me. It’ll be a wild, much-too-quick, life-changing, challenging and memorable time. Can’t wait!

Thinkin 'bout home...

2005-07-17T17:11:00.000-04:00

Ok, so now that the GCC team is gone, I’ve been thinking about home a lot. Which is dumb, because it will be a good five or six months before I can actually get there! I’m trying to get my mind re-focused on Nairobi, but it’s hard.

I’ll be sitting in the matatu, when suddenly I feel the loss of video games intensely… or I’ll be walking through South C, when out of nowhere this urge for Starbucks coffee hits me… or the worst… longing for food items that don’t exist in Kenya! Do you have any idea how awful it is wishing for Lou Malnati’s pizza, when all you have in front of you is a steaming pile of ugali???

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love being here. It’s an amazing experience! It’s just that… after having the GCC team here for two weeks, they sort of forced me to remember all of the things I missed! People talking about driving to church (mmm, driving…) or playing video games (mmm, Xbox…) or hanging out at night (mmm, being in a place where I can go outside after dark without the fear of being mugged...)… *sigh*

Honestly, I never thought I’d miss getting stuck in traffic on 465. I never knew how much I loved the old, squeaky wood floors in our house. Most of all, I totally took for granted the accessibility of my friends and family all the time! Hopefully this experience will teach me to value the little things that make my life what it is each day!

Ok, I’m done. I’ve got trees to climb, lions to kill and loincloths to make*. Man. It sure is tough being in Kenya!!!

*I do not actually wear loincloths. I do, however, kill a ton of lions. Seriously. All the time. With my bare hands.

Kenya Email Update #9

2005-07-12T19:58:00.000-04:00

June 2005. Without a doubt one of the most crazy, enjoyable, stressful, unique and surreal months of my life! In less than 30 days I drove through a herd of Cape buffalo, walked around a filthy slum with a kid I used to baby-sit, ate fresh lobster while staring out at the Indian Ocean, wandered through a strange Kenyan city with my old Xbox playing buddy and listened to a sermon by a guest preacher from a far away country (who also happened to be my dad). Hah! Just reading that sentence makes me laugh. Did it really all happen last month???

Yes. Yes it did. And I survived to tell the tale! Barely…

After a week and a half of crazy, last-minute preparations, June 11th was finally here. The chapel pastors and interns rolled out of bed, threw on some clothes, and drove out to the airport as the Saturday morning sun began to rise. What we met there was a sight that must have chilled the blood of the customs worker – 67 young Americans with bloodshot eyes and confused expressions, staggering off the plane into a country they’d never visited before! If it weren’t for the fact that I knew many of them, I too would have been paralyzed with fear!

A barrage of bleary-eyed greetings and hugs kicked off a trip that would deeply impact many young lives, affecting hundreds more in the process.

Now, there’s no way that I’ll be able to give a detailed account of the entire GCC team experience, so I’ll just give a really broad overview. The Grace team was divided among the five church plants of Nairobi Chapel. Each of the five teams did some similar activities, but had completely unique experiences. For example, all five churches had a slum visit day, but this looked completely different for each team. Our team (Mombasa Road) visited the congregation members of a church in the slums, while other teams helped at slum clinics and showed evangelistic films. You get the idea…

Of course, some of the differences were really unfair. Hehe… The meeting place for Mombasa Road was only a few minutes walking distance from just about everywhere in tightly packed South B and C. The Ngong road team however, had to walk roughly a billion miles each day (give or take a few). At the end of the week, all the members of that team could have easily walked from Grace to I-465 without even flinching! Seriously! They all had these weird, sculpted leg muscles that looked like the mannequins in some sporting goods store…

Each of the GCC team members (kids and adults alike) were hosted individually or in pairs by Chapel’s congregation members, which led to more than a few interesting stories. Some of the kids stayed in gigantic houses with like 30 guard dogs, roses decorating their room and hosts who would tuck them in at night. Other kids stayed in these tiny, run-down apartments that make inner-city Chicago look like Beverly Hills.

I believe the whole experience was life-changing for everyone involved. The Grace team was obviously impacted deeply by the things they saw and experienced. The Chapel staff was totally energized about the many new ministry opportunities offered by the GCC team’s presence. The Chapel congregation was also exposed to things they had never done before (most of our Chapel team had actually never been inside a slum!). The list goes on… I didn’t even mention the way this trip influenced financial supporters, families of team members and people in the communities where we worked all week! This was a huge event in the lives of both Grace Community Church and Nairobi Chapel!

Oh, and where do I even begin to describe all the things I personally felt, heard, experienced, and learned while the GCC team was here? For one, I discovered just how much I’ve changed in the past 6 months! Chris Yonan and David Byers (the only Mombasa Road team members who knew me before I left) were both surprised at how much I’ve grown.

I spent some real quality time talking and laughing with my family too! Lucy was part of the Ngong road team (she probably walks to church now!), and my parents came to discuss partnership issues with the Chapel pastors. I was amazed at how easily we picked up where we left off. As many of you know, my family is absurdly close (though absurdly small by Kenyan standards), so it was easy for us to reconnect and share.

During the second GCC week, the whole team (my family included) went out to Massai Mara for safari and debrief. The debrief was great. The safari was… not quite as great. We saw very few animals (it was off-season according to our driver) and spent our morning safari getting our van pulled out of the mud, imagining what safaris with real animals must be like…

On top of all that, our driver kept trying to make up for the lack of animals! Once we were cruising along, enjoying the view, when all of a sudden he slammed on the brakes (throwing us all over the place), pointed out the left window and nearly screamed “Look! Warthog!!!” We looked, straining our eyes to find this glorious animal. Finally, after almost giving up, I saw it… One of Kenya’s most majestic warthogs, walking along the horizon about 3000 miles away. Of course, at that distance, it could have been a Ravenous Rift Valley Horsebeast and I wouldn’t have known the difference… Good times!

Sadly, the GCC team left a couple days after Massai Mara, just as I was getting used to having them around! The whole experience felt at once like 3 months and 2 days! Does that make any sense? I was so sad to see them go so soon, but so relieved that we could get back to reality again. Our usual day-to-day stress was amplified into 2 weeks of veritable chaos (just imagine hosting, feeding, transporting and watching out for 67 Kenyans for two weeks and you’ll know how we felt)!

While the rest of the Chapel staff was unwinding and getting back to life-as-usual, I was hanging with Chris Yonan, who stayed in Nairobi for an extra week. We had a great time watching movies, eating food, riding matatus… and of course being really stupid (it’s good to know not much has changed between us!). Our trip to the coast was one of the best vacations of my life, but I won’t write about it here. If you want to read my account of our experience (as well as a few updates written about the GCC week), check out my blog (www.barryrod.blogspot.com). The best option if you want information about our adventures would be just to go talk to Chris himself! You’ll find him wandering around Grace daydreaming about Mombasa and the most perfect beach in the world…

Well, that about brings me up to the present. As I write this sentence, I’m at a church planting team retreat. We’re vision casting, planning, and praying at this nice retreat center about an hour outside of Nairobi. In less than three weeks we’ll be moving to our new venue in South C! From that point on, we will be a completely independent congregation, handling every aspect of our church by ourselves. I’m so pumped!!!

I’ll be sure to update you more as things develop. For now, enjoy your blazing hot summer (We’re struggling through bitterly cold 65 degree weather right now! I think I’m turning Kenyan… You should have seen me blowing on my hands and jumping up and down as these Grace guys walked around in T-shirts!).

Anyway, gotta run! We’re meeting to discuss our volunteer raising strategy in 10 minutes! Keep in touch!

Barry

p.s. Thanks for all of you who have sent me pictures! It’s great to see all your smiling faces!

Mombasa!!!

2005-07-04T18:00:00.000-04:00

Last week, Chris Yonan and I did something we’ve been dreaming about for years. We went alone on an adventurous journey to the coast of Kenya! We had no plans, no reservations, and no knowledge of the city we’d be visiting. What came from such a last-minute, disorganized trip? The most adventurous, exciting and memorable vacation either of us has ever had! Here are a few of the stories that came from this crazy trip to Mombasa…

We didn’t want to dish out money for a plane, couldn’t take a train, and had no transportation of our own. So we decided to take an overnight coach bus that would drop us in Mombasa 8 hours after leaving Nairobi! Our seats on the way there were right over the back wheels (so we felt every single bump!). Chris slept because he can sleep anywhere, but I only dozed off a few times. Good times!

We arrived dead tired in a city we've never visited, vague directions in our hands, knowing only that we'd be spending the night at the house of a sister of a friend of a friend. A year ago, I would have curled up in a corner and cried. Now, however, being lost in some strange foreign city is an adventure! I led a sleepwalking Chris onto a matatu, hoping that it would get us where we needed to go…

Needless to say, we found the place without dying. We spent the day exploring Mombasa… Buying red bananas at a crowded market, wandering through the winding streets of “old town,” and exploring an old Portuguese fort that looks out over the water. We ended up sitting on one of the high walls, drinking freshly squeezed lime juice, and watching tug boats sail into the Indian Ocean. And yes, it was just that idyllic!

The next day, we took two matatus, a crowded ferry, and two more matatus (about an hour traveling time), to arrive at Diani beach. Our amazingly complex plan was to get there, find a place to stay, and stay there. I guess it worked, because 45 minutes later, we were staring out from the porch of our beach-side cottage at perfect white sands being washed by the beautiful blue-green ocean. Because it was off season for travelers, there was almost nobody on the beach. The picture below doesn’t do justice to the beauty of where we stayed!

Swimming in the Indian Ocean, eating fresh lobster at a gorgeous restaurant only feet from the water, and soaking up the eternally perfect view… I’ll be honest. It didn’t seem real. Chris and I kept looking at each other and laughing. How in the world did we find this place??? Let’s just say Florida will never be as exciting as it used to be.

Before we knew it, it was time to leave. We had to get back to Mombasa to catch another night-bus back to Nairobi. As we were re-packing our backpacks, the most amazing thing happened!

We were in the bathroom putting our toiletries away, when a rustling noise came from our room. We both thought, “Why are they cleaning our room now? We haven’t even left yet!” I peeked my head around the corner and said “Umm…” Until Chris looked too.

There, in the middle of our room, was this huge baboon eating the rest of our Twizzlers! We were mesmerized as he downed these things like it was his job! I cautiously snuck over to my backpack for my camera. I started snapping away as the baboon began looking around the room for more food. I guess he was looking for a buffet table or something. Seeing nothing edible, he stared at the rest of the Twizzlers, deciding whether to finish them right then or save them for later. I guess he chose the latter because he grabbed the bag and bolted out of the room!

While we were still laughing about our amazing baboon friend, Chris noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The baboon was back! He knocked over our trash can, licking candy wrappers, and then went into our bathroom, simply unwilling to believe that we didn’t have any more food. Finally, after searching through Chris’ backpack, he left for good, content that he had found it all.

Quite an experience… let me tell you. We’re already planning to go back some day. Especially because we found this great Cantonese place in Mombasa (I’ll be sure to give you directions next time you’re in town…). It’s funny. Those of you that knew me back in Junior High and early High School… Would you have ever believed that this jittery little band-geek would grow up to become a world-traveling, baboon-befriending, Swahili-speaking adventurer?
Yeah. Me neither.

What do you mean it's already over???

2005-06-24T12:46:00.000-04:00

Well, today is the last day for the GCC team to be in Nairobi. After a grueling week of ministry, a couple days of safari and debrief, and today’s souvenir shopping, the team is going home. I can’t believe it is over! It was a barrage of whirlwind days that slipped by faster than I ever thought possible! My grandiose schemes for updating this blog every day were clearly a bit off! Hmmm… Maybe next time 67 Americans come over to Nairobi for two weeks, I’ll have more free time!

I won’t write too much about what they did during their ministry week, because they’ll be home to tell stories really soon! I guess I’ll just share a few highlights.

On Wednesday, we worked at Mama Ngina Children’s Home. Our team cut grass, washed clothes, cut potatoes, and played with orphan babies. These babies were so heart-breaking! They receive very little physical affection, and were actually reluctant to be held! I could see the GCC team having trouble playing with these babies. Each one was struggling with a mix of emotions – joy at the presence of such tiny little lives, confusion that babies could live the way these ones do, and rage that parents would simply abandon these children!

On Friday, our team visited a church in the Fuata Nyayo slum. Part of the experience included visiting congregation members in their homes. Having already had similar experiences, I was able to step back and watch the reactions of the GCC team as they witnessed extreme poverty for the first time. Visiting a slum is one of the most eye-opening things a person can do. Visiting a home in the slum and talking with fellow Christians living in poverty is a whole other matter. These students will never be the same!

This Tuesday, we arrived at Massai Mara to enjoy a few game drives and debrief sessions. The group talked and shared for two days, working through some of their experiences, processing the shocking things they saw, and simply sharing their hearts. It was an amazingly valuable time.

Though the animals were a little scarce at this time of year, we got a chance to see at least one of just about every kind (lions, giraffes, elephants, etc.). I was able to enjoy the company of my sister and parents while we did our game drives. Other than a one hour-long incident involving a lot of mud and several broken tow-cables, we had a really great time together (although I sure had a good time getting stuck in the mud)!

Well, that’s about it for now. I will put much more information in my next Kenya Email Update (which will also be posted here). Right now, I look forward to spending a week with Chris Yonan, who will be staying in Nairobi until the 3rd! Later!

What happened to sleep?

2005-06-15T21:27:00.000-04:00

I originally planned to update this every day this week. Ha! I’ve been so busy with the GCC team; I haven’t even had a chance to make it to the internet café since Sunday afternoon! Seriously, I’m barely getting enough sleep, while these jet-lagged Americans are showing up fresh and chipper! Isn’t that backwards somehow? They should be the ones dragging their feet each morning! Not me! I live here!!!

Anyway, about the week… On Sunday, the Mombasa Road team was given an awesome Kenyan welcome. They were all brought up front to the beats of a traditional Kenyan welcome song. Then, to their great surprise, several church fathers and “mamas” came up, draping Massai blankets around the guys and wrapping kangas around the girls, then prayed a blessing over each of them. The Massai blankets symbolized their nature as “spiritual warriors,” while the kangas (traditional Kenyan garments) represented the servanthood of the girls. It was so cool. The best part? They got to keep their gifts!

On Sunday afternoon, I found myself serving chai to a few members of the Waiyaki Way GCC team. It was the first time I’d ever made tea for so many people. The tea was a little strong, but I don’t think they knew any better, so it was ok! Hehe… After tea, I sent them off to enjoy their first night with host families (the GCC team has been living in houses and apartments all across Nairobi since that night!). From the conversations I’ve had with our team, living separately with families has been a great experience so far!

From this point, I have no idea how the other teams have been doing. The only GCC members I’ve seen all week have been for our church plant (Mombasa Road). We had a good time doing some team building on Monday morning. I led the team in some fun discussions and a crazy Kenyan game called “Shake.”

In the afternoon, teams of four went walking and praying through different parts of our district. This “prayer walk” was a great way for the team to see exactly what our area really looks and feels like. It was really good, but we all came back totally cooked by the sun!

Tuesday was definitely the most intense day so far. We took our team to a small prison in the industrial area completely overflowing with over 5000 inmates. We presented the gospel and played some Christian music with a group of DJ’s called “K-Krew.” It was a little overwhelming to see a sea of prison-hardened faces light up at the extremely rare entertainment we were able to provide. The stench of sewage and body odor (which I’m getting used to here) added to the surreal and shocking experience for our team.

Tomorrow we will go to Mama Ngina Children’s home to paint the walls, cut the grass, and play with the young orphans. Thursday we will be receiving training in Muslim Evangelism, then doing a community survey that will hopefully open up doors into some deeper conversations. Add that to the slum visit on Friday and Saturday’s “Crazy Olympics” outreach event, and these guys going to officially have the busiest and most culturally challenging week of their lives!

I guess I’m learning that coordinating and leading an international team in all these events is pretty exhausting! It’s just a good thing dad and mom are bringing me some Starbucks coffee when they arrive on Thursday morning! I’m going to need it!

Mzungu Invasion!!!

2005-06-12T17:26:00.000-04:00

I can’t believe it! After five months of preparation and anticipation, the mzungus have landed! Pulling gigantic suitcases and bulging carryon bags, the Grace Community Church team greeted Nairobi for the first time! Unfortunately, the airport experience wasn’t perfect. Eight pieces of luggage never showed up! To the amazement of all, there was no complaining (despite the prospect of sharing underwear and toothpaste!). These guys are such troopers!

I got to see my sister for the first time since leaving in January! It was great! With a couple inside jokes and small talk about her journey here, we were right back where we left off! Honestly, it is so great to have her in Nairobi with me! Though we won’t see each other much this week, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up at Massai Mara next Tuesday and Wednesday…

After finally getting transportation sorted out, it was time to leave the airport (about 2 hours after they landed!). With bleary eyes and dazed expressions, the GCC team filed onto three shuttles bound for the Methodist Guest House, where they spent their first night here. Many of these guys hadn’t slept in two days! But guess what… They weren’t allowed to go to bed! Following the advice of several “jet-lag experts” in the group, the team was required to stay awake until at least after dinner!

They did whatever they could to stay awake. Playing cards, talking, drinking tea, playing more cards… drinking more tea… Honestly, I admire their efforts. I know how hard it can be to fight the urge to sleep! If only there was an easier way to get on the rhythm of a country halfway across the world!

I don’t think have any idea what they are in for this week! After receiving a very Kenyan welcome at church tomorrow, they’ll be spending the rest of the week living with host families. During the daytime, they’ll be visiting prisons, helping at children’s homes, experiencing the slums, doing street evangelism and prayer walks, etc. When they go home at night, they’ll be eating Kenyan food, enjoying Kenyan hospitality, greeting visitors, and trying to figure out this extremely different culture! It will be a busy week!

Stay tuned here for more updates and pictures!

White People - We're Hopeless...

2005-06-08T21:10:00.000-04:00

Ok, being white here is SO weird! Especially being a white American! When I walk down the street, I feel like a circus parade, with everyone staring at me all the time! Sometimes I just feel like throwing down my bag, raising my arms and yelling out “Are you not entertained???” like Russell Crowe in Gladiator…

There is this basic mindset in Kenya that all white people (mzungus) are filthy rich. Because I’m pretty much as white as they come, taxi drivers wake up from their day-long naps to holler at me, street kids stop playing with their friends to hobble over and ask me for money (“Brother? Buy for me bread? Five shillings?”) and random people will stop me on the road just to say hello. I guess they think that I, being the ignorant and absurdly wealthy mzungu, would like nothing more than to shower them with money!

One of my intern friends said that when he was growing up, he honestly believed that you went to America when you died. Another man I met here was shocked to realize that we actually grow crops in the states! He simply thought that we imported all of our food.

The other day I talked a matatu conductor down from 20 to 10 shillings because I wasn’t going very far. When I got on, I heard a woman behind me asking in Swahili “Why does he need to save money?”

I often get ripped off when I ride matatus because I’m white. Ok, I used to get ripped off. Now I’m armed with an arsenal of Swahili words and phrases to totally make the conductor feel stupid. “Wewe! Ulisema mbau!” (“Hey, you said 20!”), “Hapana. Silipi thelathini. Kila wakati mbau!” (“No. I’m not paying 30. It’s always 20!”), or my favorite, “Unafikiri mimi ni mzungu mjinga???” (“You think I’m a stupid white person???”).

I’m learning to live with it. There’s really nothing I can do, so what choice do I have? Whenever I take the time and energy to gently realign a matatu conductor’s mindset about white people, the next mzungu he sees will inevitably be a chirpy, camera-toting American holding a 1000 shilling bill and asking “Jambo! Is this enough to get me to the Hilton hotel? Do you know what hotel means?”

White people – we’re hopeless…

Kenya Email Update #8

2005-05-23T13:12:00.000-04:00

Hi everyone! What’s up??? Sorry it’s been so long since my last update. Time is flying and I’ve had trouble getting inspiration for what to write about!

Anyway, check this out… Since arriving in January, I’ve lost close to seven pounds! It’s weird. It’s not like I’m eating less… In fact, whenever I can find any chocolate or candy I just wolf it down! No, I think the weight-loss comes from the actual food that I’m eating daily. Most Kenyan dishes are actually healthy and organic – not laced with sugar, cheese and butter like most dishes in the states (I miss good ol’ American cheese almost as much as Halo 2!).

Oh, and an even more obvious reason for the weight loss – I walk a TON! Seriously! I got my map out and did a few calculations. To get to and from Chapel every day, I walk 1.5 miles. And most of that is up a steep hill! Add that to the 10 and 20 minute walks I take all the time (just to save a few shillings on bus fare), and I’m getting used to making long these long treks without complaining. For example, to get a good cup of coffee, I have to walk about 2 miles… A little different from pulling up to a drive-thru Starbucks!

A couple of weekends ago, five of the guys from Chapel went for Nyama Choma at Kenyatta Market. Tim and Njau ordered FIVE KILOS of meat (that’s almost 1.8 pounds for each person)!!! A normal person who hasn’t eaten in three days might be able to force down a half kilo… You see the problem we had. I ate more meat than I ever thought possible. We kept on encouraging each other to eat more and more even though we had no hope of finishing. Whenever I knew I could speak without throwing up, I would turn to whoever was slacking and say “You’re going to stop now? Be a man! You don’t see me slowing down!” Guys are so stupid.

Turns out girls aren’t much better! Last weekend, in honor of the release of Star Wars: Episode III, we had a huge Star Wars marathon over at Angie’s place. A bunch of us gathered in her living room, surrounded by piles of junk food and all of the Star Wars movies ever released. From Sunday evening till Monday afternoon we watched all five movies with only a few hours in between for sleep. It was great! Except for how miserable we were the next day…

Will and I went on Friday to see Episode III, which totally rocked! It was actually one of the few movies released here at the same time as in the States… We got there an hour and a half early to make sure we got good seats. Um, so yeah. Only 15 other people showed up (3 other white nerds like us, a handful of very single Kenyan guys and this crew of French kids talking excitedly about all the stupid movie trailers)… I’ll be honest; the real disappointment was that nobody came wearing a storm trooper outfit!

Ok, so not everything here has been a big party. In fact, some of the stuff I’ve been doing is quite intense. I’ve recently begun getting involved with a church in the Fuata Nyayo slum (near South B, where our church will be planted). I was originally just doing some contact work for the GCC team coming in June, but felt a deep urge to get more involved. Over the next few months I plan to spend time with the pastor evangelizing door to door in the slum and working with their congregation!

The slums of Nairobi are some of the poorest places on Earth. Trash fills every sewage lined “street.” In one area of Fuata Nyayo, kids play along a 15 foot cliff that drops directly into a disgusting river of human waste and industrial pollution. I don’t think you can ever fully imagine what a slum is like until you’ve visited one. The sights, sounds and smells are just too much to explain in words. I believe wholeheartedly that visiting a slum is one of the absolute most eye opening experiences on this earth. You cannot enter a slum without being changed forever.

But that’s not the only amazing thing I’ve been up to! On April 17-19, I took my very first personal retreat. I went alone to a Jesuit retreat center called Resurrection Garden. It was amazing. For 48 hours I wrote in my journal, read scripture, prayed, and totally examined my spiritual life. Chapel only allows its interns to bring a Bible, notebook, journal and pen, so I was forced to focus on hearing God’s voice.

The experience was truly life-changing. I explored my spiritual gifts and passions while unearthing my sin habits and unconfessed sins. It was so eye-opening to see my list of sins growing longer and longer. I had a lot of junk in my life that I had never confronted! I spent time confessing my sins before God and decided the steps of repentance for each. One of the greatest moments of the retreat was when I walked through the garden, stopping at different depictions of the crucifixion to confess individual sins to God.

I left a changed man. When I walked out of the gate (for the 30 minute walk to the main road!), I knew that I had heard God’s voice. I honestly felt like I truly understood myself for the first time! Since the retreat, my spiritual life has skyrocketed! I am disciplined, committed to ridding my life of deep sin habits and replacing them with godly virtues. I’ve begun confessing my sins to others, seeking ways to continue my growth, and reading the Bible as God’s Word, not just a textbook. A few Sundays ago, I cried during worship for the first time in four years!

Anyway, I don’t know if that even begins to describe the amazing things that are happening in my spiritual life. I mentioned in my last update how much I have been growing. I was only in the foothills of this mountain! In fact, I’m beginning to realize now that this year is not just a spiritual mountain… it’s a mountain range! Of course, the implications of that are clear. I have a long way to go yet! There are many more mountains, and many more valleys to cross before I reach my destination. It will be long and it will be hard, but I am committed to seeing this through to the end!

Ok. I have two requests to make!
Please send me any digital pictures you have taken recently of yourself or your family! I’m realizing now that I have almost no pictures of my friends back home! What’s that about???
I made an update with similar content (but lots more pictures!) using Publisher, but it doesn’t work with all email providers, so I went with the old fashioned one. If you’d like me to send you the fancy one with all the pictures, let me know!

Well, it’s been 4 1/2 months and time is flying by faster than ever. Before I know it, the GCC team will be here and I will be reunited with Mom, Dad and Lucy! Thanks again for your prayers and I hope this email finds you well! Keep in touch!

Barry

Kenya Email Update #7

2005-04-11T12:26:00.000-04:00

Hi everybody! What’s up???

I’m just enjoying a relaxing Sunday afternoon here in Nairobi. Thought I’d hop on my computer and finish this update since our power just came back. It seriously goes out at least once a week. I picture this evil little man sitting behind a large switchboard, laughing as he vindictively turns the power on and off at random. Poor guy. I should probably send him a letter or something. :)

Anyway, I want you to know that it’s getting harder and harder to cram everything into these bite-sized email updates. It just seems that whenever interesting things start happening, I have less time to write! Do I even need to mention how fast March flew by? I turned 22 and didn’t even notice! We spent my birthday visiting Will (the other American intern) who had been in a pretty serious car accident (he’s ok now). It really shows one of the big differences between our cultures. If the same thing had happened in the States, we would have all been trying to figure out who was going to send him a party favor!

One cool thing that did come from my birthday was that I was treated to dinner at a restaurant called Carnivore. It’s an all-you-can-eat gluttony-fest of meat (No surprise that most of the people eating there were white tourists)! They serve beef, chicken, pork, ostrich, crocodile, camel… Yeah. I even ate the crazy stuff… It’s becoming habitual. Anyway, at Carnivore, Waiters just walk around holding big skewers of roasted meat, carving off pieces for whoever can still cram more animal flesh into their already bulging stomachs. Good times!

Speaking of meat, I had another memorable first a few days ago. I got to see my lunch slaughtered before my eyes! We were out at Camp Malta, which is a team-building site owned by Tanari-Trust (Mo’s company). In good Kenyan fashion, we were having Nyama Choma for lunch. Will and I saw these two guys with machetes escorting goats to a corner of the property. Like real men, we were mesmerized as they killed, hung, and skinned the animal that in a few hours would be our meal. How cool is that?

On the way home, I introduced the people in our van to Twizzlers (my grandparents sent them to me). I was the only person there who had even heard of them! I explained that in the States, we always have Twizzlers when we go on road trips. After devouring the bag, we pulled off at a roadside kiosk and asked if they had any more. They must have been fresh out. We bought mangos instead.

In other news, the internship is going full blast. Right now, I have the responsibility of finding and training a production team for our church plant’s Sunday service, writing dramas and promotional materials, making a detailed map of our district, helping to organize the activities for the GCC team coming in June, and participating in a counseling class, discipleship group, and numerous intern meetings. That’s about it… except for the research, event planning, teaching and counseling that I do. Oh, and I’m studying Swahili on the side… and serving refreshments at worship concerts… and finding clipboards for volunteer sign-ups next Sunday... (It really doesn’t end!)

It’s funny. I think after a year living in a foreign country, the most valuable thing I’ll learn is not cultural adaptation or different paradigm of ministry… it’s time management! Seriously. You should see my calendar. It’s so organized it hurts. If someone told me that Microsoft Outlook was a direct gift from God to man, I wouldn’t be surprised.

I think I am finally able to grasp the fact that I’ll be here the whole year. I’m starting to see the bigger picture, and I’m realizing how awesome this year will be for my development. I come home at night filled with the stuff I’ve learned about myself – my leadership style, my emotional weaknesses, my spiritual gifts, my opinions, my past mistakes, my purpose in life, etc. That doesn’t even include the things I’m learning about ministry, cultural worldviews, church planting, and how to be a good uncle to a couple of absolutely crazy boys!

Thanks a billion for your prayers! I’ve had a few really tough emotional experiences that ended well, I believe, because of your dedication to pray for me! Keep it up!

I attached a little picture that I made with Photoshop (it puts to shame the last picture I attached!). If you like it, I can make more of ‘em. I’ve been taking a lot of pictures. Keep your eye out for a little email I’ll be sending soon. It will announce an AOL Instant Messenger chat session I want to do some Sunday Afternoon (well, it’ll be afternoon for you… I’ll be up in the middle of the night). I’ll just open up a chat room to answer questions and talk in real time with you guys! Cool huh?

May your wives be many and the wind be always at your back! Sounds like a cool Kenyan farewell. But it’s not. I just made it up. :) Sorry for the letdown!

Have a wonderful April!!! Bye!

Barry

Kenya Email Update #6

2005-03-02T19:59:00.000-05:00

Well hello there! Guess who’s still alive and kickin’???

It’s me! It’s that Barry kid who left the States TWO WHOLE MONTHS ago! Can you believe it? That means I’m already a sixth of the way through the year! Crazy.

Ok, let’s clear something up. In my last update I mentioned that I was really sick and that I had eaten roasted goat intestine. A lot of you thought that the two were somehow connected. Alas, the events were separated by 2 weeks, so I doubt it. Still, it should have probably made me a little more wary of eating gross stuff (that’s why I’ve only eaten gizzard, cow innards, and goat liver since then…).

Speaking of eating stuff (now that you’re hungry), I have eaten some amazing food. Right down the street from Chapel is an awesome fruit stand where they cut up a bunch of fresh fruits (mango, pineapple, banana, watermelon, etc.) and give it to you it in a big bowl with a spoon. Sooo good. And it only costs about 40 cents! I’ve also discovered the beauty of roasted maize (for those of you who aren’t farmers, its called corn). The taste is basically a cross between pop-corn and corn-on-the-cob. Awesome. A whole cob is about 12 cents (where in all of America can you get food that cheap???). I shouldn’t even mention how much I love chapati and mandazis and chai masala and samosas!!!

Oh here’s something new: Taxi drivers have stopped harassing me whenever I pass by. They used to see my blindingly-white skin and call out “Taxi? Taxi?” Then, as if I hadn’t heard them, they’d yell louder “TAXI???” and gesture to their car in case I was deaf or German or something. For some reason they don’t do that anymore. Perhaps it’s because now I’m tan and I walk like I know where I’m going. Or maybe it’s because I shout Swahili swear words at people as I walk down the street (just kidding… I don’t shout in Swahili!).

I’ve been reading a ton. Since leaving Indianapolis, I’ve finished 10 whole books. I’m currently in the middle of 4 others. I guess that answers the question of what I do in the absence of XBox!

Alright I’ll be honest with you. The experience here has not totally been a bed of roses. There are some days where I really, desperately, tragically wish I could be back home. There are some Kenyan foods that I just can’t stomach. I miss having a car. I can’t escape into video games here. I’m tired of people staring at me when I walk down the street. You get the picture…

Something that has led to quite a bit of frustration is the fact that in general, Kenyans are much more comfortable with chaos than Americans. Working at Nairobi Chapel, I have been consistently confronted with tasks that I am expected to complete without any directions. Good communication between staff members is a rarity. Unclear expectations are totally normal. Basically the environment here makes Grace Community Church’s history look like a study in sharp, disciplined effectiveness (those of you who work at Grace are probably chuckling right now)!

Anyway, even though some of these experiences are frustrating, I am learning from them. I’m learning that immersing yourself in another culture is one of the best ways to truly understand your own culture! I’m learning that following the Holy Spirit’s guidance often doesn’t come with a bulleted list of goals and expectations. I’m learning that walking everywhere is great exercise, that reading is a great escape, and that Kenya has some great food!

So all in all, my experience here has been difficult but valuable, painful but formative, frustrating but life-changing. To answer my old roommate Erik’s question “What percent are you?” I would have to say roughly 76%.

Sorry again for the length of my email updates. They seem to be getting longer and longer don’t they? By December I’ll have to have my emails bound hardcover and shipped overseas! Thanks again for those of you who have kept me updated on your own lives. Checking email has become the highlight of my day (other than dragging myself out of bed at 5:30am of course…)!

Here’s the address where I can receive letters/packages/etc. I hesitate to give this to you because now you’ll all feel obligated to send me something. Don’t. This is just for the people who actually care about me (totally kidding!). Seriously though, I just figured that since several people have asked about it, I should just put it out there for ya’ll.

Barry Rodriguez
Nairobi Chapel
P.O. Box 53635, 00200
Nairobi, Kenya

Well, I’m off to begin another month of fun, challenges, and intense life-changing cultural adaptation! Later!

Barry

p.s. What percent are you???

Kibera

2005-02-14T23:17:00.000-05:00

It took me several moments to understand where I was. The transition from city to slum had come too quickly. It was not until the stench of a gigantic trash heap washed over me that I could truly register my surroundings. We were walking into one of the biggest slums on the face of the earth…

A map of Nairobi shows Kibera slum as a large blank area without any roads or landmarks. A simple glance at a map makes it look like a forest or city park. Kibera is not a city park. It is a sea of ragged metal shacks stretching to the horizon. It is a desolate expanse filled with thousands of hopeless Kenyans living minutes away from a world class city. Kibera is poverty.

We walked fast. My eyes darted back and forth, trying to take in the quickly passing scenery. On my left was a small river of sewage. Gagging, I tried to focus on the other side of the street – a ten foot high wall of rusty corrugated steel. We passed tiny stalls where residents of the slum tried desperately to sell overripe fruit, hand-woven baskets, and cell phone credits. I was intensely aware at that moment of how rich and white I looked. I could feel the gaze of children staring as I passed. I was extremely grateful to whoever had suggested that I take off my tie.
On the way to the medical clinic we passed a dog standing in the middle of the road, staring at us with vacant eyes. Its mangy fur was stretched tight over much too visible ribs. A toddler with a sagging diaper and filthy t-shirt waddled out of his home, sucking on his hand. I realized with pain that this child would more than likely live in this slum the rest of his life.
We climbed a high railroad embankment that gave us a shocking view of the slum. I was amazed at how big the place was. I turned to the man leading us and asked “Is that most of Kibera?” pointing at the vast expanse of shacks that stretched over a distant hill. He chuckled and said “Oh no. That’s just a corner of it. Most of the slum lies in that direction.” He gestured behind us. I was speechless.
We were given a tour of a small Christian clinic in the center of the slum. The clinic gives very cheap medical assistance and nutritional education to the people of Kibera. I was in awe of the selfless volunteers working at the clinic. I thought for a moment about the jobs any of them could have had. With skills in medicine and nursing, these capable servants could have easily made large incomes in one of Nairobi’s bustling hospitals. Instead they choose to give up everything to help those who have nothing to give.
After meeting the clinic’s volunteers and asking them many questions about their ministry, we began walking out of the slum, retracing our earlier steps. With my mind still reeling from the enormous sacrifice these servants had made of their lives, we came across a group of children. When they saw me they all started shouting “How are you?!?” – the only English words they know. I answered “Good! And how are you?” They gave me blank stares. Instead of giving up, I greeted them in Swahili. “Habari?” Their faces lit up and they shouted back “Nzuri!” They formed a line and wanted to shake my hand. I shook each of their hands, answering when each of them asked me “How are you?” again. It took me quite a while to lose the smile on my face, but in my heart, I was sobbing. How could children like that be so joyful in a place of such desperation? It was heartbreaking.

The experience ended just as quickly as it had begun. We walked as a group out of the slum. We caught a bus and within moments we were back in the Nairobi I knew. I went home, ate a full dinner, and lay down in my comfortable bed, acutely aware of the luxuries I had been blessed with throughout my life. As I drifted off to sleep, the shocking images of Kibera played over and over in my head. Something had clicked inside of me. It was as if God had walked me through the slum, pointed at the people I saw and said “Here. These are my children. These are the ones I love. It pains me to see them suffering; doesn’t it hurt you too?”
From that moment on, I knew I would never be the same…

Kenya Email Update #5

2005-02-04T14:20:00.000-05:00

Hey!

Can you believe it? I’ve been here for a whole month already! One down, 11 to go! This year is going to fly by! Again I want to thank those of you who have written to me. It’s so great to hear from my friends… Just be sure to keep me updated!

Ok, a couple of weeks ago a bunch of people gathered at Mark Kioko’s house (he’s on staff at Chapel) for nyama choma. Nyama choma basically just means “roast meat.” It’s a very Kenyan thing. Someone buys a goat, has it slaughtered, and then roasts it at home with a bunch of friends. I suppose it’s the same as having a barbecue in the States. Except in the States people don’t usually eat roasted goat intestine as an appetizer. In case you are wondering if I actually ate any, I’ll tell you this – it’s really really chewy.

I’ve been thrown head-first into ministry at Nairobi Chapel. Since the church planting process hasn’t really started yet, I’ve been working a lot for Pastor Linda (who does a lot of administration and stuff). She discovered that I like writing and sort of put me to work! I’ve been writing grant proposals, pastoral letters, etc. In fact, the very first thing I wrote for her became the bulletin insert that Sunday!

So on my last day off I went to see a movie in a theatre downtown. It was actually a really nice place! I was surprised. The funny thing is that when a movie is about to start they play this ancient video of the Kenyan flag blowing majestically while the National Anthem plays. I guess if you don’t stand, you can get kicked out! It’s a national law!! Right up there with the law that all places of business in Kenya have to have a picture of the president hanging on the wall. Weird.

As I write this I’m getting over a really bad sickness that hit about two days ago. I guess it’s some sort of intestinal infection (I won’t go into details…). Let’s just say I have been rather miserable these last few days. Oh well. I guess there has to be some downside to living in a country with perfect weather and fresh mango juice…

Since coming here I’ve had the chance to visit three huge slums in Nairobi. Each one was quite an eye opening experience. I really don’t think I’ve ever seen poverty like that in my life. If you are interested, I have written out a little narrative of my experience with the first slum I visited. Just drop me an email and I’ll send you the story.

Also, if you are supporting me with prayer, I am going to start a new email list to which I’ll send specific prayer needs as they arise. Those emails will be more frequent than these updates, and will give you a better idea of the things I (and Nairobi Chapel) need prayer for. If you want to be on that list, just drop me an email as well.

Ok. Keep in touch! I miss you all! For those of you in the Midwest, enjoy your freezing rain and ice and mud! I’m sure it’s just beautiful there!

Later!
Barry

p.s. For those of you who are wondering, I don’t really miss Xbox surprisingly, but man, I could use a big bag of spicier nacho Doritos right now… Oooo… and some pizza from Lou Malnati’s. Oh, and a big bottle of ice cold Mountain Dew! Oh well… I guess I’ll just go have some more roasted goat intestine. hehe

Kenya Email Update #4

2005-01-21T20:44:00.001-05:00

Yo Yo Yo from Kenya!

It’s Barry. Obviously I changed email addresses again and I promise – this is the last time it’ll change (unless something changes of course). Now I can use Outlook for answering emails without paying to use the internet café all the time. Basically it means that I can actually respond to individual emails now! Which reminds me… I have loved the encouraging emails you all have been sending! Thanks a ton!

Anyway, I suppose I’ll update you on my life here in Kenya… I have finally become more independent, finding my way around the downtown area and taking matatus all over the place! Ok, so basically matatus are one of the primary forms of public transportation here. They are basically small 16-passenger vans (actually they fit 12 people but have 16 seats miraculously crammed in) that run along certain lines and stops just like busses do in the States. They usually cost only 20 Kenyan Shillings (only 25 cents!). From the shouting conductors to the crowded interior to the blazing music, it can be a pretty intimidating ride the first few times.

Automobile drivers in Nairobi are absolutely out of their minds (especially matatu drivers)! Imagine the worst and most reckless drivers in Chicago on drugs, trained in high speed automobile stunt driving, and late for a meeting with the President of the Universe… The basic mindset of drivers here is “I am more important than you. If you don’t get out of my way, I will destroy you.”

The other interns are so cool. Each one brings a different set of experiences and gifts to the internship. I can already tell that we’re going to become close friends! Angie (the other intern working with Pastor Muriithi) is a lot of fun. She and I have a whole lot in common. It’s going to be quite a trip to see what God has in store for us (not to be cliché! We seriously have no idea what to expect!). I attached a poorly done picture that shows who the other interns are (all I have for picture editing is Microsoft Paint – if falls a little short of Photoshop… sorry!).

I finally know what my main responsibilities will be this year. All I have to do for the next 11 months is help Pastor Muriithi with sermon research and book editing, make sure everything goes smoothly and help plan the 10am services at church, organize district events for the church plant, design the new church’s advertising materials as well as disciple a small group of youth that I first have to seek out and evangelize… not to mention my responsibilities as an intern which include reading several books, attending classes, and guiding short term groups that come in from partner churches in the states. Um, yeah… I’ll be pretty busy (especially considering that these are only my primary responsibilities).

Ok, forgive me again for the long email! I just have so much to write about! I bought a cell phone the other day, so if you want to try text messaging me (I guess it’s really called SMS or something) from your cell phone, my number is +254-0721-179000 (+254 is Kenya’s code, though you might not need the 0 in front of 721 – I’m not sure). It’s a really cool (and cheap) way to stay connected in real time. Just remember that I’m 8 hours ahead of Indianapolis!! I suppose you could call too, but that gets really expensive (if you do, call between 10am-1pm Indianapolis time).

Ok, enough. I’ll let you get back to your lives! If you think of it, please pray for me as I really hit the internship head-on. I am going to be sooo busy! Pray that I will continue to learn and grow, not just get swept away by all the stuff I have to do. I miss you all! Two weeks down, 48 to go!!!

Still happy and healthy,
Barry

Kenya Email Update #3

2005-01-09T16:35:00.000-05:00

Well, I made it!

After two 8 hour flights I thought my life was over. I wanted to chop my legs off so bad… When we made a really rough landing (seriously, swerving all over the runway), I was just like “Fine… Let us crash… As long as I can get off the plane…” After that I had the pleasure of standing in line at customs for 45 minutes amidst screaming babies and confused white people. Good times…

So Kenya… perfect weather. Seriously. Breezy, blue skies… perfect. A little warm in the middle of the day, but I’ll take that over Indiana weather any day.

I’m staying with Mo and Marci (remember them? They were at Grace Church for a while…). They have two extremely hyper boys… Their house is so nice. I have my own room with a desk and everything.

It’s a little weird being the only Mzungu (white person) around, but I don’t mind. It’s refreshing to be the minority for once. You guys would be surprised at how modern it is over here. I don’t know what I expected, but after passing 3 shell stations and about a million car dealerships on the way to Mo and Marci’s house, I realized that my mental picture of Nairobi was a bit off.

For those of you who want to pray for me, I could use it! Right now I’m loving the whole experience, but I know there will come a time (probably soon) where I’ll wish I was back at home. Please pray that I’ll be able to cope and get beyond that quickly.

Well, I don’t want to bore you with drab details of my trip. Have a wonderful January and don’t forget, I’d love to hear from you!

Alive and jet-lagged,
Barry