Gladys' Story...

A little over a month ago, my neighbor returned from a short trip down to her home village with an extra piece of luggage.

That's when my neighbor's niece, Gladys, showed up in our lives.

When Agnes arrived at her family's home, she realized that they had no money and 4 children. The family had been surviving on very little, and it was beginning to show in the small children.

Without any other real options, Agnes did what any other loving aunt would do... she brought one of the children home to live with her family for a while.

I remember the first day that Gladys showed up at our place. She was sitting on the ground about to tip over because it looked like someone had completely sucked every bit of life out from her. She was severely malnourished and in need of some desperate help.

For weeks, she would simply sit in the middle of the back yard full of energetic children running past her left and right, nearly knocking her head off with the soccer ball, and she just wouldn't even flinch.

As her diet began to stabilize, her energy and health followed suit. It's been more than a month now, and she is still by far the quietest and most energy hunger child that plays around in our backyard... but there is that glimmer of hope.

I see that hope when I walk up to her among all the other children and extend my hands toward her... she smiles really big and bashfully and extends her hands out towards mine. I proceed to pick her up and whirl her through the air like an airplane and listen to her scream with excitement.

Her short life thus far has been difficult... no doubt. But, all we have is hope right?

All I have is hope that when she returns back home to her mother and father this weekend, she will not end up the way she was just one month prior. I have hope that she will remember how it felt to be special. That she will remember how it felt to be picked up and thrown into the air.

I hope she dreams...

I hope she smiles...

I hope she survives in this dark, cold world...

This is my prayer for Gladys.

Today, after realizing she would be leaving soon, I went over and picked her up and started talking to her. I asked her what my name was... coming from the mouth of a tiny girl that never mumbles anything even to other children, she spoke a single word that I could barely hear: "Lioni"

I have hope.

:::::UPDATE:::::

Today, we brought Gladys to the hospital to get her checked out before returning back to her village. Turns out, she has an extremely severe case of malaria that she has been living with for quite some time. On top of that, she is severely anemic and is infested with worms. It is really a miracle that she was able to get to the clinic and find this out before she went back home. So, they have given her some super powerful anti-malarials, and we'll pray that she is able to recover quickly.

The fact that she has even survived this long with such strong malaria is quite amazing! If I was to have that bad of a case of malaria, I would be near death. Tolerance is an amazing thing.

So, please pray for her. Pray that treatment is effective. Pray that her nutrition doesn't plummet when she returns back home.

[re]conditioned...

The bad thing about deciding to move somewhere for 9 months is that it is just enough time to get used to things in one place, and forget how things worked in another.

Here I stand... in that position.

I started noticing weird things a few months back.

One of the first things I noticed was that I no longer thought the car looked or felt weird.

Everything on a car here is opposite of the way it is in America. It's quite funny to watch people who come over for just a few weeks try to get used to this. You always walk to the wrong side of the car to get in. And as was the case when my parents got in the car to leave the airport, they started screaming at me to "get on your side of the road... we're gonna die!!!!" (no lie, that was as I was pulling out of the parking lot).

But, I've found myself trying to imagine driving in a car like I did at home, and I just can't recall what that was like. It's extremely odd. It all feels so natural here now.

I also have become accustomed to riding in a car without an air conditioner. Most of our vehicles actually have A/C, but I just can't handle it! I much prefer to just roll down the window. Maybe I have become dependent on some chemical that is released from the massive pillars of exhaust that billows from other cars or something... nonetheless, when I'm riding with someone that thinks it's cool to use the A/C, it just about pushes me over the edge! Yesterday, I was wearing long-sleeves in a car and the person driving had on the A/C, and I felt like crying.

It has also happened with the little, insignificant things. For instance, the first time I tasted milk here, I nearly upchucked! It tasted horrible. So, as a result, I decided that I was only going to use milk to cook with and put in my coffee and tea. Then, a few weeks ago, I came across a box of Cocoa-Krispies... even though I knew I would be going home soon and didn't need these kinds of luxuries at this point in my life, I just had to get a box! When I took my first milk-filled bite, I was pleasantly surprised. It tasted great! Apparently, my disgust for Malawian milk has passed.

Then there's the whole issue of sleeping. Just a few months before I came here, Sara and I had a conversation about temperature while sleeping (just random conversation...not as in - while sleeping in bed). I was very adamant about the fact that I have to have the A/C down low and the fan on high while bundled up in a big fluffy down comforter. She tried explaining to me how expensive it is to keep a place freezing cold like that in the summer... but I would hear none of it... I said that I would just have to make extra money, because that was non-negotiable! Now... I sleep with a sheet and the window open... not even a fan! I'm not sure I can go back to the other way.

I'm really interested in seeing how things are going to look when I set foot back in the big USA. Will I be the one freaking out about driving down the road now? Will American milk make me want to barf?

Unexpected uncertainties...

The other thing I will have to ask you to bear with me on is the fact that aside from Sara, my mom and dad, sister and brother, and my pastor Butch and Matt Chandler from sermon downloads, I haven't heard anyone else's voice! I never really thought about this being weird... but, I just can't seem to remember what some of you sound like. I also am not around a large quantity of Americans. I am getting much more used to the UK or Australian English accent now. The other day, I was out at a cafe by myself, and at the table right next to me was this big group of people from America. I sat there for an hour or so fiddling around on my computer and eaves-dropping because it was just fascinating to listen to their accents.

So, if I'm sitting in your living room in a month and you notice my eyes glazed over and a big smirk on my face... know that it's because I think you sound funny and am trying not to bust out laughing! And I will do the same favor you when you notice my conglomeration of many different accents that don't seem to resemble Texan in the least.

Swarmed on Glynn Jones Rd.

Yesterday, out of sheer boredom, I decided to take a walk into town. I have been doing this more frequently lately... perhaps the boredom is increasing in these last few weeks.

But, I just really love walking through town. I love the interaction that takes place when you walk past someone.

I have developed a route that I seem to be following... I usually make a stop by my friends that work at the curio (wooden figurine things) market...


...then I'll usually make a pass through the big Blantyre market, just for the heck of it...


...then I pop my head into the business that some friends of mine own.


It's simple... but it keeps the days lively!

As I was walking back to my house alongside one of the busier roads at the end of the day, I hear screaming in the distance. All the sudden, about 50 meters away I see this giant herd of children running towards me yelling my name... "Lioni!! Lioni!!" (Chichewa speakers have a hard time distinguishing "R" and "L"... it all sounds the same to them. So, "Ryan" just becomes "Lioni").

These were the kids that I play football (soccer) with almost every day in our back yard.

They surrounded me and grabbed the bag I was carrying out of my hand so I wouldn't have to carry anything. Two of the little ones grabbed my two free hands, and there I was... this crazy white guy walking down a busy street with all these kids attached to me!

At first I was a little embarrassed. I was kinda getting some funny looks from people. It looked a little like I was forcing these kids that I didn't know to walk with me and carry my bag. But, then I just decided that I didn't care what people thought. I DO know these kids... and I love each one of them so much. So, be what it may... I'm gonna walk down the street surrounded by 15 kids... and I'm gonna be OK with that.

When we got back to our place, we had a nice game of football... in which I realized how completely out of shape I am... But, nonetheless, my team came away with the big win!!

I just love that feeling you get when you realize that you have finally been somewhere long enough and devoted enough energy to build relationships with people, that you get swarmed on the road.

It gives me great peace as I begin to think about wrapping things up here.

Will Work For Food...

This post isn't some deep insight into homelessness or anything... it's simply a desperate plea from yours truly...

I NEED A JOB!

Don't worry... I'm not depending on you specifically to go out and hunt down a job for me, but I figured I might as well use all my resources right?

So, all you readers coming from Bryan/College Station, don't forget about me. If you really want to see my smiling face again in your midst... well, you better come up with a nice job to keep me alive.

Aside from setting up a small lemonade stand on the corner of Texas Ave. and George Bush, I'm fairly flexible. I'm kinda looking for something in the field of "social work" (Christian or non-Christian agency), I'm also really interested in doing graphic design type stuff... I know, I know, they don't really match... I would also be up for working in a ministry type setting.

So, keep your ears open for me, since I don't have a set in Texas right now and shoot me an e-mail or leave a comment if you have any leads.

Scenes of Blantyre...

Well... I finally did it.

I became a tourist.

I absolutely hate being that guy that is always walking around new places, looking completely out of place and snapping pictures of everything in sight (I know that most people are looking at my Flickr account and thinking... someone needs to tell him that HE IS THAT GUY!... but, I really do try to be discrete).

But, today, I was shameless!

I had a bit of pride swallowing to do, but once I got started it was fun.

Up until this point, I have tended to shy away from taking pictures in downtown Blantyre. I feel like a lot of people in the city get really sick of the foreigners that come over here and just snap a ton of pictures to bring back to there homes and show people how poor Malawi is... well, it's not that I just feel that way, but I was actually told that the other day by someone on the streets. So, to avoid that whole confrontation, I would just walk camera-free.

However, with each passing day of the most beautiful blue skies in the world, and the realization that my time in Blantyre is rapidly vanishing before my eyes, I decided to take to the streets... camera in hand!

For some of you, pictures like this may come as a surprise. You probably thought that the tallest building in Malawi was a hut the size of a tall man. WRONG... Blantyre is a gorgeous city with lots of modern things.

And come to find out, the vast majority of people that saw me taking pictures around town today were totally cool with it. Most people wanted me to take their picture instead of buildings and such though.

So, enjoy some of the sites that my feet have been trampling for the last 8 months!

This is one of the main streets in town... Victoria Ave.

This is part of the chaos that is constantly in front of the main market... You can't even begin to see how many mini-buses are really there!

This is one of the coolest things I've seen. In fact, I noticed it for the first time today as I was walking past it.

Another great big bank in the works to add to our skyline.

One of the big bank buildings in town...

Coming close to my house...

The name of my neighborhood... no worries, we don't have any sharks in Namiwawa!

This photo has no real significance other than the fact that while I was taking it (standing on the side of the road), I felt some thing knick my backpack and realized that I had just been "hit by a car" moving at high speeds! It was kinda cool. I'm still trying to determine whether it was a "hate crime" or just the inevitability of human and motor sharing the same walking space. Hate crime sounds so much cooler though!

Thread...

There is this common thread that has run through humanity from ancient times. A thread that has changed colors and styles... a thread nonetheless.

A thread that binds us with people from around the world and throughout history.

In the bottom crevice of our soul somewhere it stirs this uneasiness.

Stirs this feeling of discontentment with the way the world is.

A discontentment with society and its structures.

A thread that pulled a Samaritan guy to a screeching halt on a dusty road because he noticed something that the rest of the world didn't. While they were increasing their speed, he decreased his. And today we say he was "Good".

A thread that pulled a little lady known as Theresa out of eastern Europe and into Calcutta, India to become instead of observe. To give until it hurt... and then continue to give. To touch without rubber gloves and hand sanitizer. To live and die there. And today we call her "Saint".

I don't believe that this is in just some of us. I believe that we all want something more.

I believe in a broken society this thread has become a bit distorted.

In our Hollywood, microwave society, where everything is G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S... we appease this yearning in easier ways.

The richest among us have climbed until they can't climb any higher. At the summit they find an air that is hard to breathe. Life on the summit of our society turns out to be lonely, cold and harsh. Contentment has yet to be grasped.

Aha! The thread.

Celebrities, adorned in designer clothes that are made to look impoverished, decide to take visits to the base of the mountain... and through the tented windows of limousines they pass by.

Done... money has been given... temporary contentment has been obtained... it's back to the summit for rest and relaxation.

We in the middle, who are neither poor nor rich by our own standards, find not the time nor the energy to do anything. But, the thread is still there. Still pulling.

For the vast majority of us, that thread simply pulls us to our couches at 4:00pm every weekday to watch the rich do there thing. For a solid hour, we have the chance to watch close up, all the people we secretly want to be just like changing the world, one great cause at a time.

When the credits roll at 4:59pm, we put the kleenex back under the coffee table, sigh, and then begin cooking dinner for the night. For millions of viewers, the 4:00 hour was their time to change the world. For 24 hours, their threaded conscious has been appeased.

Welcome to America.

As poverty increasingly becomes the fad in the West, it doesn't mean that the poor are suffering less. It just means that the Jericho road is getting more and more traffic. People are still sitting congested along the sides of the road... the only difference is that the road is now paved, equipped with 4 lanes, nice wide shoulders and several rest stops.

In our discontentment up on the summit, we search for something more at the base... trying to find some part of us that was lost on the climb up.

In what we think is assisting the poor is actually nothing more than assisting ourselves.

With each picture we take of a snotty nosed child dressed in rags that we can frame and hang on the walls of the summit, we feel just a little bit better. We can enjoy the best of both worlds now... while sitting in our message chair next to the fire place at night, we just look at the photo... for a brief moment we are back at the base where true life is.

Meanwhile, the other rope that ties humanity together from ages old remains in tact right next to the thread. The rope that, despite our human efforts to shrink it or fray it loose, remains just as capable of keeping the poor ignored and stuck on the bottom and the rich happy and comfortable at the top.

The base of the mountain is not the place to come and find yourself only to return to the top with photos and video footage to pull out when the rat race feels like too much.

Make no mistake... there is much to be found at ground level. But, as the Samaritan and the Saint set in example, until you stop or even relocate, you will find nothing expect empty photos of snotty nosed children on your walls.

_______________________________________________

Derek Webb wrote a song that is really poignant about this issue...

Rich Young Ruler

poverty is so hard to see
when its only on your tv and twenty miles across town
where we're all living so good
that we moved out of Jesus neighborhood
where he's hungry and not feeling so good
from going through our trash
he says, more than just your cash and coin
I want your time, I want your voice
I want the things you just can't give me

so what must we do
here in the west we want to follow you
we speak the language and we keep all the rules
even a few we made up
come on and follow me
but sell your house, sell your SUV
sell your stocks, sell your security
and give it to the poor
what is this, hey what's the deal
I don't sleep around and I don't steal
I want the things you just can't give me

because what you do to the least of these
my brothers, you have done it to me
because I want the things you just can't give me

Practically Twins...

Pretty much identical wouldn't you say?

Today, I decided to take a walk into town. It was quite nice to be on foot rather than wheel.

As I was walking close to my house, I walked past this guy and greeted him with a "Shop, shop" (Chichewa for: "Sup?"). He kinda looked at me and smiled real big. He said, "You know Chichewa?" in an I'm impressed but a little shocked voice.

I responded, "Ehh... pong'ono" (yeah... a little).

So, we had a little conversation in Chichewa... and when we ran out of things to say in Chichewa, we switched back to English. He started telling me that he just got a job teaching French at the primary school next door to my house. He just graduated University, but jobs are hard to come by.

Then he asked me if I was from America (I guess it just must be obvious or something).

He said, "Do you know a Christian band there... the David Crowder Band?" (said in a Malawian English accent... my favorite of the accents).

I kinda chuckled and was like, "Uhh... yeah. They're awesome! In fact, they are from the same part of the States as me..."

Then he said, "I've seen you around for a while, and I always think to myself that that guy looks just like David Crowder."

Maybe it's because I'm white. Maybe it's the way I dress. It could be the goatee/soul patch resemblance. I pray that it's not because of my hair!

Nonetheless... I was thrilled to be considered in the same realm as Mr. Crowder himself!

I will smile for the rest of the day now. :)

"Hungry Boss... Give me money..."

Sometimes when I'm driving around town, I don't necessarily have a chance to take everything in. I mean... If I want to leave this country without a charge of "man-slaughter" on my hands (for all you people that have different laws from us in the USA... that means running over someone for all intensive purposes), then I had better pay attention to what's going on within my immediate vicinity.

The trouble is... there is just so much to see right outside your window. It's so different from life in America. There are actually people... not in vehicles... walking around as you drive by. Lot's of them.

**Just a side note: Yesterday, as the clutch went out on our car while I was driving it in town and I suddenly realized I was going nowhere... I had to jump out of the car in the middle of town and begin pushing. I'll just be honest... I can't imagine having to do this at home. I would feel so embarrassed and I'm quite sure people would be yelling at me as they drove by and throwing angry hand signals in my general direction that would make me feel really small. I was in the car with 2 girls... and we all made the comment that we never feel afraid when we have car problems here in Malawi. It's so true. The second your car breaks down, you have about 10 people helping you push it off the road, and 3 of those people are probably already trying to fix the problem for you. It's so amazing! At home, when we see someone stranded with car trouble, we push on the accelerator instead of the break.

Anyway... as I was saying... There is a lot to see outside the windshield.

A few days ago, I was just driving down a road that I go down many times a week. I was in a hurry. So, I whipped through the intersection and was on my way. But, as I passed, I noticed something and was taken aback. In the middle of the road, there was a guy begging. That wasn't what I was taken aback by. In fact, the reality of beggars at every single street corner approaching the car is just something that doesn't phase me anymore. I've even developed a system* in regard to beggars that I feel goes along with my convictions and helps me with the reality that I can't help every single one of them.

But, it wasn't until after I passed by and took a double take in my mirror that I realized that this guy had no legs from the knee down. He wasn't in a wheelchair either. He was literally in the middle of the road with his knees to the hot, mid-day asphalt begging for money.

As I drove on, my mind began to wonder a bit. It kinda bothered me that I could just drive past something like that and continue to feel this sense of normalcy. I mean seriously... what happened in this guy's life that brought him to the point of crawling on the steamy road, dodging traffic and begging for a few coins that people are quite reluctant to give.

Since it was already on my mind, a few minutes later, while stopped at a light, I glanced over at this elderly lady sitting on the sidewalk. The light had just turned red, so I had some time to just watch. I watched her sit, absolutely motionless... with her had stretched out in the shape of a cup, her head tilted slightly towards the earth... I'm quite sure that the entire time I watched her, she didn't even blink. People walked briskly by her without really noticing she was there... kinda like a rock or a pothole... you just dodge it, but don't really think about it.

It wasn't until just a few weeks ago that I even noticed this type of beggar. There are just so many people that are asking for money around town. It's really like this vast sub-culture. Most of them are children that will follow you for blocks saying things like: "Hungry boss... give me money. Please, boss... I need money." Then there are the people that are cripple that sit stationary and just ask from a distance. Then there are the women that sit in different places or occasionally approach you for money. Then there are the blind or really elderly people that are led around by a grandchild, and the child asks for money on behalf of the other person.

But, for some reason, it has taken me 7 months to notice this other group of beggars. The ones that look as if the life has been virtually sucked right out of them and replaced with stone. They sit on a sidewalk where thousands of people pass them throughout the day, and they never move an inch (at least not while I'm looking). Their heads are always drooping down as to not make eye-contact, and they just leave their hand out for coins to fall from heaven.

It's just been baffling me lately. I just can't help but wonder to myself what they think about all day long. They aren't talking to people... their just sitting and starring. Are they thinking about their family back home? Are they thinking that their life really sucks? Are they thinking that people don't even notice them? Or have they lost all thoughts?

I have no answers. I just wonder.

As crappy as it is to live in a place where you are faced with these realities day in and day out, I have gained a whole new understanding of the passages in scripture where Jesus heals people on the street or even just bends down and gives them the time of day.

I never really realized how completely counter-cultural those actions were. It was by no means the popular thing to do... and I'm quite sure that he probably got some really funny looks.

But, it also drives home the theme that we see throughout the whole of scripture... God has this interesting love, concern, romance type thing going on with the poor. He literally dips down to the bottom of the bucket every time. He walks right by the rich and powerful and extends his hand to the "nobodies". To the ones that don't have a voice to make him look good. To the ones that don't have extraordinary voting power to move him up in the system. To the ones that will never be able to pay him back one cent for his kindness and generosity.

Oh, we have a lot to learn.

I struggle writing these types of things because I don't want to perpetuate the idea that most people have about Africa... that it's a continent full of people with their hands stuck out asking for money. That's not true.

But, it is a reality. There are poor. They do need a voice. And we do need to stop, look at them and reach out a hand. Yes, we need to recognize that there are successful people all over the place in Malawi... but, just like anywhere else in the world, the poor should not be washed away just to make the rich feel better.

*My personal system for helping beggars:
First let me start by saying that I am so bad at this! I walk past so many people that genuinely need help, and because I get annoyed or am in a hurry, I don't give them the time of day. I need so much refinement in my life still. However, after being here for a few months, I realized that I could not claim to be a disciple of the guy that walked so closely with these people and be OK with literally turning my head and not acknowledging them when they approach me.

The trouble I was having is that there are just so many people that ask for money. If I gave to every single person, then the next day, I would have to pull up a seat next to them and stick out my hand as well. And... I'm pretty sure that, just like everywhere else in the world, there are those with genuine needs, and there are those that know that begging is their most profitable way of making a living. I hate that reality. I hate not being able to trust.

With all that going through my head, I decided that I would develop a system to go by (loosely). The first thing I decided was that I would not give money to children. I know that half my supporters just called SIM to get their money back! But, there is a good reason. A whole lot of street children actually have homes that they can go to. However, they run away from those homes and prefer a life on the street for whatever reason. When I give them money, I am simply enabling them to stay on the street. I'm saying, "you don't need your family... you can get all the help you need right here from the hand of a stupid foreigner, so why not stay where you are." For the children that really don't have families to go to, there are places that reach out to street children. I actually made this decision based on talking with one such place. Now, I don't think that we shouldn't support street children. But, I think that money would be much better spent investing in a place that knows what they're doing, and can really help get these kids off the street instead of keeping them on it.

Secondly, I will rarely give to some random guy that looks like he's perfectly able to work for money. I just don't think that begging should ever be your first option. I think it's only a result of a flawed system. I also think that it's not very Biblical... especially for Christians to be doing.

But, the reality is... the "system" (humanity) is deeply flawed. So... I am more willing to give to a lady that looks like she has children and just isn't making ends meet. This is because I know what this society is like for women. They don't get the opportunities that women get in a lot of other places in the world. Until that system changes, I feel that I can't just ignore their need.

Lastly, I am most willing to give to someone that is visibly disabled. They obviously are not able to get a job like the rest of us. And... I guess it's just because Jesus paid special attention to these types of people. He never turned his nose up at them and walked away. He also never just gave them small pocket change either... but, that's a whole other lesson!

Like I said, even though I have this "system" in place... I still walk by most people and just smile and say hello. I know... I'm still a filthy sinner! I also know that money is such a crappy thing to throw at someone. I wish I could spend intensive time devoted to really helping these people. I'm still trying to work that out in my life.

Another thing to add... money is not nearly as important as a smile. Even though I rarely give people money... I try my hardest not to ignore them. I enjoy rolling down my window to say hi and joke with a guy trying to sell me a bag of little minnows to make a few cents. And... I think that brings more life to a person that any amount of money. Also, if I am coming from the market or grocery store and have food with me, I will usually offer someone saying they are hungry a banana or something. Sadly, a lot of times they will say that they don't want it, but they want money. I respond, "Pepani - I'm sorry".

** I chose the picture for this post because it wasn't of a person. I don't want to dehumanize someone by putting their photo on the internet and labeling them a "Beggar". But, just like dirty laundry... this issue is painful to really try and deal with in our own cultures, yet desperately need to be washed.

An Evening with Capital FM & Lindt Truffles

Some things just make life a little better.

Lately I have been addicted to 2 things... DON'T YOU JUDGE ME!!

1) "Malawi's Hit Music Station" - Capital FM

2) Lindt Lindor Truffles Chocolate

First off, I just have to give out some mad props to my brothers and sisters down at Capital FM. I challenge all of you to try and find another radio station that plays such a variety of music that within an hour, you will have the smooth sounds of Beyonce, Meryl Haggerd, DC Talk, Elton John and a wide variety of Malawian artists!

It just can't be done!

Not only does Capital FM have great music all day long, but they also have DJs that I feel like really care about me. Ya know... sometimes I just feel like I'm sitting down in my living room with these people and having a heart to heart... DON'T JUDGE ME!!

Pretty much every evening while I'm cooking, my little transistor radio is cranked in my kitchen while I'm choppin' away. It's not all that uncommon for me to look up to find one of my neighbors standing in my doorway simply shaking their head.

I just have to let you know... right now... as I'm typing... I'm listening to... "You say it best... when you say... nothin' at all"... Just give me a minute...

OK... I'm back...

One of my second favorite past-times at my house is ironing my clothes at night... of course while listening to ... Capital FM. It's just priceless, ya know. Ironing is so much more enjoyable when you get to sing along to songs that your grandparents listened to when they were dating.

Wow... I really sound like a girl!

Well... since I'm already going down that road... my Number 2 has recently stole my heart.


These things are seriously better than anything I've ever placed in my mouth. (Actually... the milk chocolate ones are better than anything I've ever put in my mouth... hence not having the bag to take a picture of.)

Somehow, between Christmas and Valentine's Day and people just loving me a whole lot, I have accumulated quite a stash of these babies.

I gotta be honest, I've never been one of those people (female) that are addicted to chocolate. It really wasn't something that I missed all that much... UNTIL THESE! Now, I find myself walking back and forth from the office to my house all day long because I just can't sit still without having one. I'm beginning to wonder if the creamy filling isn't really crack cocaine.

I know you're probably thinking... "This is really shallow... I thought this guy was supposed to be a missionary... what's he doing listening to trashy music and eating drugs?"

I guess at some point people just have to know the truth... My name is Ryan Price and I have a problem...

Oh snap... now Capital is playing Lady In Red... when's the last time you heard that? ... I've heard it 3 times this week!

I have compiled some of my favorite photos that I've taken since I've been here into a gallery of sorts.

Check it out [here].