Hope from Malawi

Ryan Price Photography

2008-11-07T11:12:00.000-08:00

I recently launched a new website called www.ryanpricephoto.com.

I would love for you to go check it out, and if you are interested in anything, give me a shout.

Peace.

Come Hear About my Experiences...

2008-07-11T10:17:00.000-07:00

For all you Southeast Texas readers out there, I will be speaking at First Baptist Church, Vidor this Sunday night at 6:00 about my experiences in Malawi.

So, if you’re just sitting around on Sunday nights enjoying Coke Floats and watching TV, or are just looking for something to do in general, I would love for you to come out and hear about the things that God taught me over the last 9 months.

Let me know if you need directions or something.

All my bags are packed and I'm ready to go...

2008-06-15T16:11:00.000-07:00

That's right... I'm outta here!

No... don't freak out! I'm not moving to Siberia or anything. I'm just moving to a new blog.

Basically, "Hope from Malawi" is a bit outdated these days. Not that there is no longer "hope" in Malawi, but, well... there is no longer "Ryan" in Malawi.

But, fear not... you will still be able to stalk me and my happenings at an all new and improved location:

blog.ryanpricephoto.com

Now... for those of you who knew me prior to my "Hope from Malawi" days, you may recall that I had a blog with a very similar name. Well... names are hard to come by, and take a lot of creativity... and I quite like that name... so, I kept it. What I didn't keep is the same blog service. I switched to Wordpress.

So... All you people that keep a blogroll with my name on it, please change the link!! Please... seriously... I'm begging you! Take the 5 seconds it takes to do this and change it. It's a pet peeve of mine when people don't have accurate links. So, humor me and DO IT! OK... I'll step off my soapbox now...

I will keep this blog up (but probably not up-to-date). Who knows... maybe I will keep it up to date with the latest from Malawi. But, for now it will remain dormant, yet accessible to all who want to relive the time spent in Malawi.

So... check out the new look at the new place and leave me a comment or something so I will feel important!

Pastors' Book Set Conferences

2008-06-06T10:18:00.000-07:00

In May and June, SIM Malawi is undertaking an once-in-a-lifetime project to provide 2,000 Malawian pastors and church leaders with the unprecedented opportunity to receive their own personal library of 65 books — resources that will equip and empower their ministries.

This Pastors’ Book Set project is a series of four week-long conferences that will provide vital training and resources for church leaders in Malawi - where it is estimated that less than 5% of all pastors are seminary-educated.

Each pastor will pay US$75. The actual cost of the conference and library is US$150 per participant. Please join us in praying that God will provide the resources for as many pastors as possible to attend. If you would like to partner with us or know anyone who would, contributions can be directed to project #96558 and sent to your national SIM office. Each $75 raised will cover the costs for one pastor to attend. Thank you for praying with us!

For more information, visit http://www.sim.org/index.php/project/96558

Jane

2008-06-04T09:04:00.000-07:00

I pulled this straight off of my friend/ex-coworker's blog. I know it's a copyright infringement, but honestly, there isn't a lot she can do to prosecute me from Malawi.

This is the story about a lady named Jane that I had the opportunity to meet and on one occasion transport to the hospital while in Malawi. Cynthia did a great job portraying who she was and what Home-based Care looks like in Malawi. So, I thought you may be interested.

You can check out her blog at cynthiainnes.blogspot.com

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A few minutes after my alarm rang this morning, the text came through.

"Jane Banda, Naotcha patient, is dead."

I first met Jane last October. I was filming for HOPE for AIDS, SIM Malawi's HIV and AIDS ministry, and that day's shooting took me to Naotcha, a mountainside village on the outskirts of Blantyre, where HOPE for AIDS runs a home-based care program.

Home-based care is exactly what it sounds like. Each week, small groups of volunteers gather together to visit a number of sick individuals in their community. Sometimes they bring household supplies - sugar, soap; sometimes they help around the home with cleaning or cooking. They are trained to offer advice that will encourage patients to live healthy lifestyles. They always pray with the patients, and always share the hope of Christ. They care for people who need it most.

I had inquired with one of the missionary nurses who works with the Naotcha home-based care volunteer team as to whether there might be a patient in their visitation rotation who would be willing to share about her life with AIDS and the role HOPE for AIDS home-based care was playing in it. Was there maybe someone who, like me, believed that if they could share their story, some attention might be brought to this epidemic that was missing before - that some heart might be moved to action, an action that would join with many others to bring an end to death by AIDS? Without hesitation, Jane Banda was asked. I wasn't in her home long before I understood why. Jane was genuine hope.

I sat in her living room with the volunteers, Mr. Banda and Jane's sister. Jane, dressed in her best, crawled into the room. Legs too weak to allow her to stand on her feet, she wobbled determined on all fours to her chair, and shaking, pulled herself up, slowly settling into her seat. She straightened her skirt. Adjusted her top. Looked straight at me. And offered me her biggest, most welcoming smile, reflecting up into her gentle brown eyes.

I visited Jane once more after that first day. She allowed me to film the home-based care visit. She spoke on camera about her life, her little boy who was off at school, her hopes for her son, her dreams for herself. The disease that she lived with. The sicknesses she was now plagued with because of her body's vulnerability. The hope in her life even this disease could not destroy. And each time, as her language was translated into mine, I grew to know a woman who was every bit like me - but stronger for fighting a battle she should not be in, yet refusing to be overcome.

The months passed, but I didn't visit Jane again. I thought of her often as I edited my footage, shaping the story of HOPE for AIDS, incorporating her gentle spirit into a film that would soon be taken around the world. I heard about her trips in and out of hospital. I sent a Christmas gift. She asked her home-based care volunteers about me. I sent my greetings.

And life went on. Until sometime last night, when Jane's life on earth ended.

Though I had thanked her, I'm not sure she could understand how her own willingness to be open about her life with AIDS would touch my life, and how her willingness to share her life on camera could touch the hearts of people on the other side of the world. And how perhaps sharing her fight could possibly negate a fight for someone coming after her.

This is the hope we share. That someday there will be no more AIDS waged in bodies that cannot fight back.

That someday, Jane, this fight you fought will no longer be repeated.
This Jane, is my prayer.

www.hopeforaids.org

Hit the Ground Running

2008-05-24T17:43:00.000-07:00

Well... my feet are officially on American soil, but I kinda feel like I'm walking in opposite directions from the rest of the world. I mean, driving down the road still feels a bit awkward and out of place. And yesterday as I was visiting with my grandparents just talking about random things, they just stopped and looked at each other and said, "honey, what do you think about that accent our boy has?" All the while, I was thinking that I was quickly regaining my Texas drawl. Apparently not!

All in all, I'm feeling really great about seeing people again and eating food that I love. Last night, we ate shrimp and oysters, and then chased it down with root beer floats! Can you get any better than that?

The night before, we eagerly made our way into a cool Mexican food restaurant to devour the essence of all things pure. About an hour later, I burst through the front door of the place in a much different mood, and quickly made my way to the flower bed in front of my car where I upchucked every ounce of food I had just placed in my body. It was at this point that I realized I have a long road ahead. Reconditioning my body to America will be a process. I just love the irony of the fact that 9 months of living in Malawi equalled never being sick, but the first real day back in America ended with chunks of enchilada sprinkled on my sandals.

Other than that, I feel like my transition back into this world is going better than expected. Although the 5 leg flight back to Houston was long and tiresome, I managed to make it with very little problems, all my luggage and no one weighing my over sized bags! Thanks for praying!

My schedule for the next week is to be in Vidor until Wednesday and then head up to Bryan/College Station through the weekend. After that, I don't really know the specs, but I will make my way to Austin and back through Vidor and wherever else I can manage. So, I want to see you!

2008-05-20T00:11:00.000-07:00

I am officially in the air... hopefully!

I will be traveling from continent to continent [via South Africa, London, Chicago, Charlotte, Houston] over the next several days.

PRAY!

As much as I like traveling and stuff... I'm pretty sure that traveling doesn't like me! On my way here back in September, as I stood in line to get on the last leg of my grueling flight, I realized that I didn't have a ticket on me for that one. In panic mode, I managed to talk my way on that flight... pretty much because I just have mad skills like that!

Then... the other day, while flipping through all my travel documents, I realized once again that I don't have any ticket to speak of in my possession! So, we have been on the phone with people for the last few days trying to sort if out. It's not quite as easy as one might think.

Nonetheless... I am going to step out in faith and board a plane leaving from Blantyre. I need you to pray that I will be able to board a plane in Johannesburg, London, Chicago and Charlotte. Seriously, airport people are so finicky! They could let me on in one place and then tell me there's no way in the next.

So... please... if you ever want to see my face again... PRAY ME HOME!

See you soon [depending on where you are reading this from]!

Reflections Series [3]...

2008-05-20T00:07:00.000-07:00

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Confessions of a Western Missionary

Friday, November 2, 2007

OK… I admit it…

I write with the assumption that you know exactly what’s going on in my head and around me each day.

I don’t really stop to think that you may not really know me. Only a small handful of the people reading this (who am I kidding… that’s probably all there is anyway) really know the heart behind each word that I write. I assume that you have sat down with me over a long cup of coffee and talked through some of the things that I have been processing through over the last several years.

Things like…

What does faith in Jesus look like?

Why does the majority of the world hate Americans?

Why do I get to choose from 30 varieties of coffee?

Stuff like that.

So… I write. And, it rarely comes across right. Such is life I guess. Such is the internet! I mean… I would much rather magically fly each person that visits my blog to Malawi and have each of you just sit down over a nice cup of tea with me and talk about this stuff. If you could bring some chips and hot sauce and perhaps a grand piano with you as well, that would just about complete my happy place.

OK… time to pinch myself and wake up! That’s not gonna happen!

So… I’ve come to realize that part of being raised in the West (or probably just being “raised” anywhere… although I can only speak from the West) is that you think you have things figured out. I mean, if you are culturally savvy, you recognize other points of view as legit in public settings, but when you lay your head down at night, you mostly just pray that people will change and become like you. Am I right?

I’m guilty… Confession #1.

Confession #2…

I really struggle with not being able to logically figure things out. I see a problem and I know that there has to be a solution. I don’t care too much for trial and error. I would rather work by myself to get it done “right”. Am I alone out here?

Trouble is… that just doesn’t work out here. I’m not too sure who’s bright idea it was for us to take the things that work well for us in the West and try to transfer that to a different culture… But, they must have just been smokin’ crack! You just can’t do that. My Western ideas are rubbish around here. That’s just the simple truth.

Confession #3…

I think that I know Jesus better than the rest of the world. The only reason I was able to type that is because I know that deep down, you probably think the same thing. So, don’t go throwin’ stones at me… I’m just being honest. Because God has blessed me in an unbelievable way with the gift of literacy (which I will never again take for granted)… and I have the resources to be reading 5 different books at the same time, with about 30 more desperately waiting for me to shut the others (which I am currently doing)… I think that, obviously, I know more about God, and can therefore please Him more than… say an illiterate person living in a remote village.

Is it getting hot in here? I’m sweating a little…

If you read my previous post, dealing with issues about discipleship, you can probably see this coming out a bit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not changing my stance on discipleship. I still think that it is foundational. But, I am beginning to realize that true discipleship is not about throwing your opinions and thoughts on to someone else. It’s about walking on a spiritual journey together with someone else. Both of you, learning along the way.

So what… I can read! Who died and said that was the end all of life. The reality is… half the stuff I read, I don’t even come close to putting into practice in my daily life. If you are honest with yourself… you would have to agree. In the West, we like to pat ourselves on the back for being about to find the book of Habakkuk in under 30 seconds, but we can’t even begin to understand things about the spiritual world like people in Africa can. Just typing that, I know that I already freaked a bunch of people out. Those are the sections of our Bibles that we like to skip over, or water down and make them sound logical. That stuff is just as much a reality, and in my opinion, much more of a necessity, than memorizing John 3:16. Don’t get me wrong… there is a lot of “spiritual” stuff that is straight from Satan… I’m not endorsing that the church should accept that. I’m just saying that I can’t even begin to comprehend the spiritual depths of Biblical things that people around here can.

They also have much to teach us about generosity as well. I’m sure I will write much more about this in the future… but, just read Acts 4:32, and you will get a pretty good picture of what Malawi looks like. I think we struggle more with this one verse in the West than any other verse in the Bible. So much so, that as western missionaries, we do our best to try and get people to stop doing it. It really bothers us that Malawians will just as soon give all of their savings to their cousin who needs to put a new roof on his house, than to put it up for retirement. Who seems to be living more Biblically in this scenario?

In my last post, I wrote about a quote that says: “Christianity in Africa is a mile wide and only and inch deep.”

This quote was obviously written by a Westerner that needs to question their own society. I mean… I guess if you are measuring “Christianity” by the size of your church and the number of people on your worship team, you may have a point. Or maybe you are using the per capita “Bible per household” ratio. Or maybe it’s that Western kids can recite the books of the Bible at incredible speeds… yup, that’s probably the deciding factor.

Sorry… I’m cynical… It’s a sin, I know!

I believe… and I may be completely wrong… that faith and discipleship just look a little bit different here.

We need to be extremely careful when we “disciple” people, that we take off all our cultural clothes. Standing naked, except for the Word of God. There is a lot of stuff that we believe with all our heart to be “Biblical”, but in reality it is simply cultural. That stuff needs to be left at the baggage claim.

I saw a sign in the bathroom of a Christian health clinic the other day that read: “Cleanliness is next to Godliness… Wash your hands and flush!”

I heard that a million times growing up. It’s not a bad idea to wash your hands after being so close to feces… I know that. But, I think that after years of saying that, we have come to think that it is Biblical. It’s not.

If we’re not careful, we will start doing that with other, more serious principles. We will hold on so tight to things we swear to be truth… that we will think that the rest of the world has to be headed to Hell right behind everyone else that we disagree with.

Let Scripture stand alone.

I don’t know… maybe you have already figured all of this out for yourself. Me… I’ve had to learn the hard way on a lot of it.

I just don’t want people to think that I am sitting over here eating mangos with everything figured out. Other than the mango part… that is far from the truth! I get up each day and wrestle through stuff.

But… realizing that I have much to learn from the people that I thought I would be “teaching”, was a step in the right direction for me.

I confess… I’m still on this journey.

Saying Goodbyes...

2008-05-19T14:00:00.000-07:00

Is this not the coolest thing in the entire world?!?

Talea and Liala (2 of the 4 German kids that live on the same property as me) made this for me. They are such amazing kids, and I will miss them like crazy!

Notice the resemblance between them and their picture. Normally their hair is always in a side pony-tail like the drawing though.

Reflections Series [2]...

2008-05-17T01:34:00.000-07:00

If you haven't read the first of these posts... read at least the beginning part to know what's going on. I've enjoyed this little unveiling of sorts of people that read and don't normally comment as well... so, if you're still one of those people... now is your time!

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Go and Make _____?
October 31, 2007

A lot of what I have been processing through lately has led me to some interesting conclusions.

Perhaps they aren’t conclusions at all… Maybe they are just more questions.

But, since I’ve been here, I’ve had to come to grips with the fact that there are a ton of people here doing development work. A TON!

Just about every single organization that I have talked with has a different take on development. What works best? What does a Christian development/mission agency look like? How can we make what we’re doing here sustainable after we leave?

Those are all very hard questions, with answers that are rarely black and white.

With all of the organizations and approaches that I have seen over the last few months, I have seen ones that are working great and ones that are doing a really crappy job.

So… I’m trying to figure out what I think about all this. More importantly, what God thinks about this? What does the Bible say regarding missions and development? So… trek with me on this little process of my thoughts.

Jesus gives us two clear commandments: GO and MAKE (Matthew 28:19)

Now… the question becomes… Where are we supposed to go? What are we supposed to make? Those are very important questions to have to right answers to, right?

It seems like we are pretty clear on the GO part of the commandment. We are all pretty sure that Jesus meant for us (the Body of Christ) to go to all nations. It seems like most churches have a pretty good grasp on that. Some are doing much better with it than others, but most Bible-believing churches feel that it is important to at least set aside some money to send people around the world.

However, things start getting really fuzzy when we get to the second part of the commandment. MAKE. What are we commanded to make?

Make money? … No.

Make babies? … No … although not a bad idea!

Make people happy? … No … although widely popular.

Make people not die as fast, and their bellies not stick out so far? … No … although it is a sad tragedy that this is the case in a world full of affluence like we live in.

Make converts to Christianity? … No … although many would disagree with me on that one.

We are commanded to do one thing...

MAKE DISCIPLES.

A disciple is not a convert. A disciple is not just a “Christian” like we have come to understand Christianity today.

A disciple looks a lot like Jesus… not just with their words, but with their entire life.

The reality is… the church has historically done a horrible job of making disciples.

There is a saying that says: “Christianity in Africa is a mile wide, but only an inch deep."

Although, I would have to say that I have met some really amazing followers of Jesus here in Malawi, there are thousands of people that claim to be “Christians”, but know nothing about it. That is of very little fault of their own. I believe that is because the Christianity that we have presented to people places very little value on discipleship. The Disciple-er will be accountable for that one.

OK… So, here is where I want you to follow my thought process. See, the more and more I follow after Jesus and try my hardest to live out His Word, the more I see how much it really is truth. For years, I accepted the Bible as “God’s Word”, but in reality, I really didn’t think it was all that applicable to our culture today. My thoughts always trumped the Bible. My culture always trumped the Bible. But, through experience, I am learning over and over again that as goofy as things in Scripture may seem when you read them, they really are truth… and they really do work!

Back to Malawi…

The reality is, there are problems on so many levels. It’s not just in this country… it’s that way in many developing countries.

There are problems like HIV/AIDS that affect a person and a family at the micro level… but, behind most of the individual problems, you will find a structural problem. These are at the macro level. The government. The cultural norms. Stuff like that.

So, as a missionary that is focusing most of your time on social issues, like helping people with AIDS, or trying to eradicate poverty, you spend your time trying to build things up from the bottom. You work with an individual to empower them, ect.

But, as a foreigner, I’m not allowed to vote. I shouldn’t be making structural changes in a society that is not my own… that needs to come from people within. So, in a way, my hands are tied. Yeah, I can bandage a wound and tell people that Jesus loves them, but I can’t do much that is lasting.

But, if we return to Scripture and heed Jesus’ call to make disciples, a lot of that will be taken care of from within.

A disciple will have a servant’s heart. A disciple will want to fight injustices in their society. A disciple will care for those around them that are suffering. A disciple will fight corruption.

You see where I’m going with this.

Here are the problems that I am seeing…

All of this aid money is flowing into developing countries from the West. However, when it crosses that big ocean, much of it gets filtered through a huge funnel of corruption and selfishness. There are stories all the time of high level officials that are caught using international aid funding for their personal gain. These officials get bigger houses and better cars, and there are still millions that are left starving and dying of preventable diseases in their countries. The problem there is lack of morals. Selfishness. The opposite of Jesus.

Many of the wealthy Malawians that I have met have come from a background of extreme poverty. They have worked their tails off to get out of that position. They have a nice place to live now, and their family is taken care of. But, somewhere in that jump from poverty to comfort, many people have lost their compassion for the poor. I think that many of us would do the exact same thing. Just like in the West, they have had the taste of money, and can't get enough.

I see it a lot even in the churches. Many churches are presenting this half-gospel that tells people that God wants everyone to become rich and “serve no man”. Why should we be surprised that that message is rampant in Africa, when it was born in the West. We have forgotten that the call of Christ is to become lowly. To serve. To sacrifice.

So… here’s my vision.

To see a group of Malawians catch the true heart of Christ.

Don’t get me wrong… there are Malawians that have a greater faith than I can imagine, and are serving their communities in powerful ways.

But, as I sit with a group of youth, who have just finished secondary school and are stepping up to become the new face of Malawi… I just desperately want them to catch the heart of Christ.

I would love to see them take their education… take their talents and gifts… and do things that foreign developmental agencies would never think of doing.

There is so much potential!

So… I think that Jesus was on to something when he just said for us to just “go and makes some disciples”.

Not… go cure all the world’s ills.

Just go and change the way people see the world around them. I mean… that’s basically what the gospel does when it truly penetrates our hearts right? It completely changes the way we think and the way we see.

So… what do you think? I want some thoughts about this. Help me process through this one… Am I being “narrow-minded”? … Where should Christians draw a line?

Reflections Series [1]...

2008-05-16T03:15:00.000-07:00

Well... in just a few days, I'll load my American sized* allotment of luggage into the car and head to the airport. This week has more or less been designated to packing and taking care of all the loose ends around here. I think that in order to avoid really accomplishing anything (such as organizing my luggage), I have just sat around on my computer finding funny new websites that take my mind off of things, as well as reading back over some older stuff I wrote on here.

You would think that with all this extra time to kill, I would be throwing tons of new posts up here for you guys to read about what's going on. But, honestly, I'm just kinda not feeling all that creative, and uninspired to write.

However, as I read through some of the things that I wrote early on in my time here, it was really cool to remember what I was thinking then. Some of those things had already entered that part of my long-term memory that doesn't allow things to resurface for another few years. I also know that since posting some things, I have new and different people that now visit my blog.**

So, I figured that for the next few days before I leave, I am going to feature an older post that I really liked for everyone to read again (or for the first time). This allows me to continue to be seemingly uncreative, but still feel like I'm doing something!

Enjoy...

*Americans get considerably larger luggage allotments than any other country in the entire world. I'm convinced that this is one of the primary reasons why so many people hate us.

**If you read my blog, I want to know who you are! It's OK to be a creepy blog stalker for a few weeks or even months... but eventually you must come out and reveal yourself. So, leave some comments and let me know who you are!

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Tomatoes In Spaghetti

Friday, October 5, 2007

Tonight I sit. I sit and wonder where to begin. The depths of this culture, and the weight of its problems have just been splattered in my face like a child sneaking up behind me and squirting me in the eyes with a water pistol. No warning. Completely caught off guard. I find myself blinded by the very thing I'm attempting to wrap my head around.

Disillusioned. I feel a bit disillusioned about what is really happening around me. I guess when it all comes at you at once, you just kind of throw up both fists and close your eyes. I read all these books and do my best to be an activist when I'm in the US, but when I get here and those words on the pages are suddenly selling me tomatoes in the market, I find it hard to transfer. How do I get from ink on a page to real skin and bones with blood flowing through their veins?

I guess it's human nature. When you encounter things of such extreme magnitude, the human mind must just slip on its magical glasses that allows you to look directly at someone and not have a clue about what they live like each day. For some extremely odd reason, it is easier for me to ignore poverty over here. Did I just write that? Even in my head, it makes absolutely no sense! I don't know how I can live on the same piece of property as a man, his wife, two children and flock of chickens, and never pause to think about what he must be thinking about. What does poverty feel like? What does your stomach feel like, in the depths of you, when you are malnourished?

Terms. We love terms. We like it even more to just put a term on someone.

Orphan... A child with no parents. That's easy enough. I can sleep comfortably at night with that term. How does it feel to watch and attempt to process through your parents dieing in front of your very eyes at the age of four? It's completely out of my realm of thought. What does it feel like now, five years later, when the people taking care of you have lost interest in you? You feel like you're not human? "Do I deserve this?", you must think. "Maybe I do deserve this. Maybe I am second class."

Poverty. Apparently this term puts you under some imaginary line that we've formulated. When someone is "below the poverty line" we can easily wash out their face and chunk them in the pile with the rest of the faceless numbers that we like to strategize about. What does it feel like? What goes through your head when you know these few bites of nsima aren't going to keep your child from waking up half-way through the night screaming for more to eat? Does it seem harder to breathe when you feel the weight of all your problems stacking up on your head like water basin after water basin? Do you live in fear that at any second, you'll step on a rock, loose balance, and the water will plummet to the ground?

Poverty. We just love that word! We love to slap it on the covers of trendy magazines. Toss it around over a cup of coffee with friends. Say it oh so strategically in a campaign speech. It's just become one of those "all-American words" these days. We love that word! But, I hate what that word has done in me! Like a dusty wind, it has dried all the tears from my eyes. If it's too hard to grasp what it feels like, then I guess I just shouldn't even bother reaching.

So, I find myself at the market, starring into the eyes of a person... not a word on a page in a book on my shelf in my air-conditioned house. This is real. This person has kids, probably playing around behind the market, waiting for their mom to sell just a few more tomatoes and maybe tonight they will be able to have a nibble of chicken with their nsima. So, I look at this person. What do I see? I see a blur. They are talking, but I simply hear words. I'm thinking about two things... tomatoes and kwacha (money). Surely 15 cents is entirely too much for four tomatoes, I must get her down to 12 cents. So... I do. And I walk home with my bags full of vegetables and my pockets full of kwacha... and I make spaghetti.

What did tomato lady do tonight? You think that even passed through my mind? She lives over in that distant place called "poverty". At some point I will devise a cure-all program for her and all the rest of her faceless friends. But, for tonight... there's spaghetti... and it tastes good!! When I'm done with that, I'll make some tea, grab a book and read a little... write in my journal about that place called "poverty" and then mosey on to bed. Of course, not before a nice bath at just the right temperature.

Man... that spaghetti sure was good!

Pastors' Book Set Conference

2008-05-12T12:18:00.000-07:00

This afternoon I found myself sitting on the back row of a large church filled with pastors from around the area with this cool feeling deep down inside me.

Today we launched the first of four major conferences called the Pastors' Book Set in Malawi.

Basically, SIM found a way to get together a collection of over 60 books that would be helpful for pastors and buy them at cost or less. Then, we raised some money for this massive project and have asked pastors to contribute $75 to attend this 5 day conference and walk away at the end of the week with this amazing collection of books valued at several hundred dollars.

As I arrived at the venue early this morning to help with registration, the line of pastors was already getting long. There was excitement among each one of them. As I hung out there all day and was able to mingle around a bit, I realized for the first time how great this thing that we had been planning for months and months really is.

Just before leaving to come back to Blantyre this afternoon, as I was sitting on the back row of the church, looking over row after row of heads eagerly soaking up all that the speaker was saying about developing a passion about proclaiming the Word of God, I just felt this cool rush come over me.

One of the things that has been on my heart most while living here in Malawi and experiencing life here is that there is a huge need for good discipleship. There are a ton of "Christians", but few people that truly know what it means to follow Christ fully... that even goes for "pastors".

But, I was able to sit there on that back row, confident that for the next five days, this room full of leaders would hear truth... and they were soaking it up. Even more encouraging than that was the fact that the majority of the speakers were from within Malawi... and what little I heard thoroughly impressed me.

It gave me great hope. A renewed hope that God is still working powerfully in Malawi. His work here has very little to do with me or my contributions. He is at work in bringing every person to glorify His name... and there is a room full of people right now that are extremely eager to do that.

Please pray for these conferences. From now until the end of June, we will have four different conferences in different parts of Malawi, with the potential for 2000 pastors to attend. Pray that these Pastors would hear truth and apply it to their lives. Pray against schemes of the enemy to stop these from happening. Pray that these would be more than simply "conferences" where people leave with a bag full of books. Pray for discipleship in Malawi.

Saying Goodbye to Chapananga...

2008-05-10T14:01:00.000-07:00

The beginning of the end has officially begun for me. In a week and a half I'll be bidding farewell to the beautiful Malawi. So, this week I had my last visit to one of our Home-Based Care sites in the rural areas.

Chapananga is one of my favorite sites. It's not really because it's pretty or the accommodation is nice... it's quite the opposite. We rent out a little house there for 400MK ($2.85) a month for us to stay in when we go down. On this trip, I decided that I would just go all out and travel like a Malawian. Basically, I just packed a shirt to change in to for the next day and a pillow. I slept on a reed mat on the floor with just a sheet. I even decided to forgo the mosquito net (I can say those things now, because I'm about to leave and can't really get in trouble)!

But, the reason I love Chapananga so much is the people there. I don't know what it is about them, but I just really click with them. I love to try out my Chichewa skills when I go down there. I love to joke with the older guys about things. I love to see the hope and vision of the younger ones. They're just a cool group!

One of the perks of the sleep over was being able to watch a group do a drama based on one of the peer education sessions that a friend and myself wrote. It was really great too! They did such an awesome job. It gave me such hope and excitement that there was such talent and motivation in such a rural setting. I believe they really will be able to make a difference.

I left there feeling really good about my time in Malawi. It was a really awesome thing to listen to them praying as we were leaving and catching a few lines in Chichewa about asking God to be with "Lioni" (me) on my journey back to America.

It is definitely a weird feeling to know that most likely, I will never see those people again. But, God is developing a really cool peace in my heart about all of it.

Chapananga Home-Based Care Volunteers...

(sporting their band new t-shirts!)

Home-Based Care visit in Chapananga

Mulanje or Bust...

2008-05-03T23:51:00.000-07:00

"I lift my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from?
My helps comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth.
He will not let your foot slip,
He who watches over you will not slumber;
Indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you, the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
The sun will not harm you by day nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm,
He will watch over your life;
The Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore."
~Psalm 121

This passage was cycled on repeat in my head last week over and over again as I found myself scaling up the side of the third tallest mountain in Africa.

Mount Mulanje is a mountain full of surprises. For instance, the standard picture that everyone sees of the mountain is this...

It looks big and all, but you tend to think... "I can handle that... no biggie."

Well... I found this to be a very misleading ideal. This picture in fact is no where near the height of the mountain, but merely the first level that veils the true summit hidden within.

We spent our first full day in staircase mode. It was absolutely grueling! The group of eight of us was constantly stopping, because each of our bodies were screaming to us at different times. The only consolation for the agony was the fact that it was an absolutely beautiful day. There are always clouds hovering atop the mountain... but for some reason, it was crystal clear on this day. So, we were able to take in some spectacular views.

Despite the gorgeous scenery, day 1 would not be a day that I will look back fondly on. Once we climbed uphill for a few hours, we reached a plateau of sorts. The rest of the day would be relatively flat. Praise God! However, my legs were still a little bitter about what I had previously exposed them to, and they weren't going to let me off the hook just because I fed them some boiled eggs and a tangerine!

As we began walking again after lunch, I began to get some slight cramps in my legs. "Slight" quickly turned in to "extreme"! At one point, I felt the cramps coming on and began shedding my gear.... by the time my backpack hit the ground, my legs had both completely locked up with cramps up and down them, and I simply fell like a tree to the ground and squirmed for a while. It was sheer agony! I thought I was just gonna have to jump off the mountain and call it a day. Despite the fact that I felt like someone was digging into my body with a machete, everyone around me found amusement in my sufferings! In attempts to alleviate the pain, I was doing some pretty bizarre things with my body. We ended up calling it the "white-boy tribal dance". I will never forget the look on the face of one of our porters while he was watching me. He probably thought I had just loaded up on heroine or something.

Needless to say, by the time we reached our destination the first night, we were forced to have a little "come to Jesus" meeting and rethink our plans for reaching the summit.

It was rather quickly decided that we would go with the Malawian cultural practice in regard to the summit and stay away! The very name of it, Sepitwa, translated means "never go there".

Although my pride was a little dented, I knew that it would be better to come home with both legs than to come home with extra pride. So, I didn't mind all that much that we had to change the plan.

After that first day though, my legs forgave me and we moved on. The next two days of hiking were hard, but I didn't really have any troubles. When you are in such an amazing environment, you just can't think about how bad everything hurts for too long.

I think that one of the other highlights of the trip was that it was basically like a three day crash course in Winter for me. You see, I've pretty much skipped a whole season in my life. When I left the States, it was hot. When I got to Malawi it was hot. Pretty much the entire time I've been here it's been hot... and when I return it will be even hotter! But, three days on top of a mountain will do the trick. Nights were bitter cold. We took turns waking up at night to keep the fire ablaze as we were buried beneath layers of clothes and heavy sleeping bags. So, with my long-sleeves and new scarf on, I was understandably giddy!

As we began our decent on the last day, there was only one thing on everyone's mind... pizza! As soon as we hit the bottom, we loaded up in the cars and headed to this little Italian restaurant in the middle of nowhere and had amazing brick oven pizzas. I just don't think pizza will ever taste the same again.

All in all, climbing Mulanje was an incredible experience. I learned more about myself, about God and about the amazingness of His creation.

Enjoy a few pictures...

This is the crew (minus the photographer, Candy)

Chombe Peak... This is basically a mountain on top of a mountain!

These are just different peaks that are all considered part of Mulanje...

This is me in my poofy pants looking like a lumberjack!

The last day was wet and cold!

A cool tree on the side of a cliff...

See a slideshow of all my photos from Mulanje

Gladys' Story...

2008-04-29T12:51:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-04-24T03:51:00.000-07:00

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.

2008-04-23T03:37:00.001-07:00

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...

2008-04-21T04:00:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-04-18T13:37:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-04-15T01:26:00.000-07:00

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...

2008-04-08T07:34:00.000-07:00

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..."

2008-04-05T02:38:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-02T11:05:00.001-07:00

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!

2008-04-01T06:51:00.000-07:00

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].

Walking in Statistics...

2008-03-28T07:20:00.000-07:00

Not long after I got here, I wrote a post about coming face to face with statistics that I have studied for the past few years. Back then, it was a sobering realization that I'd flown out of the land of books and diagrams, and landed in life. A life that I was completely unaccustomed to, but nonetheless... Life.

Now, months have gone by since that post. I've seen a lot more of life since then. With each passing day, my heart grows more and more settled in the day to day routine of life. The glamor has worn off, and people are no longer objects to be captured within my wide-angle lens, but rather friends and acquaintances.

My bookshelf is still weighed down with the books on poverty and AIDS that I brought across the ocean with me in order to help me grasp what I would be living in... Many of those books have collected a 7 month old layer of dust.

Some of the titles include: Walking With the Poor and African Friends and Money Matters.

These are both great books. However, I quickly realized that it's a little absurd to sit in my living room, behind my fence and gate, reading Walking With the Poor, when they are literally walking right past my gate, and congregating at the window of my car when I stop at the red light to beg for my small change.

I had walked with the poor many times while laying on my couch, sipping coffee and eating Grandma's cookies. I had scenario after scenario played out in my mind of walking happily with the poor. This put me on the edge enough to feel like I was doing something worth while, but at the end of the day, I went under the covers without really getting dirty... without really feeling the heartache of "walking with the poor". The reality was, I frequently walked past the poor rather than with them.

This past week, I saw what was hidden behind the words of the many text books I skimmed through in college. I experienced the pain that is easily camouflaged by a ribbon and stickers and media campaigns and 4-letter words like "AIDS". I think as people, we find it easier to discuss things on a broad scale rather than digging deeper to find what was previously veiled to our untainted eyes.

Earlier this week, as I was sitting in the office taking care of a few things, my phone rang. As I happily answered it, I was greeted with 3 words: "Judith is dead".

Immediately, my heart sank and my skin felt lifeless and tingly all over.

Judith was the sister of a friend of mine. A few months back, I got another urgent phone call from my friend... his sister was very sick and had no way to get to the hospital. So, I dropped my plans, ordered take-out for dinner and hopped in the car. I carried this sick, yet thankful, lady and her loving mother to the hospital and made sure that they got settled in alright. That was the first time I officially met Judith, and was also the first time that I was told that she was HIV+. Around here, that's usually not the first thing that comes up in a conversation.

A few years back, she lost her husband to the disease, and was now living under the care of her mother.

Every once in a while, I was reminded of Judith while sitting in a prayer meeting when her name came up because she was sick again.

Earlier this week was one of those situations. Her brother approached me and told me that she was really sick and that he needed to bring her to the hospital. We arranged for him to take the vehicle to pick her up. When he arrived at the house, his loving sister was laying across the lap of their mother being showered with tears. They were too late.

The next day, I joined a few hundred of people that had some connection with her or their family at the funeral. It was such an interesting and eye-opening experience for me. I had an insiders view on the pain and mourning that is so conveniently nestled behind the statistics.

As I heard the wails of a mother that had just lost her daughter, the last thing I could do was label her as a statistic. This was real. This could never be put on the page of a text book and exported to the desks of thousands of students to be skimmed over while cramming for an exam.
This was life.

This week, I have been amazed at the resilience of people placed in hard circumstances. There is a perseverance that only comes on the flip side of the fire.

I feel like I'm beginning to understand what it feels like to "walk with" people rather than "walk by" them... not that I have come close to doing this naturally yet though.

It's rarely a planned walk. Walking with people is a decision though. But, after you get to walking, it just turns into life.

And the interesting part about walking with people is that you don't get to pick and choose what to participate in. You get the good, the bad and the ugly.

For my friend Kondwani... I was able to share in an amazing celebration. I was the best man in his wedding. There was nothing but happiness at that time. But, this week, I knew that it was time for some of the bad. And, although it wasn't really expected that a foreigner would attend the funeral, I knew that it was essential to mourn with those who were mourning.

I just got through reading an excellent book. Sub-Merge is about learning what it means to not just walk past the bad neighborhoods and the hurting places in the world... or even to spend your long weekends or entire summers in those places doing worthy things. Sub-Merge is about getting dirty. It's about pacing yourself with a group of people that are pushed down and neglected and calling that place home. It's about walking with... not walking by. If this kind of thing is fascinating to you (like it is to me), I strongly recommend you order this book and dive in. Warning: You will be challenged, and probably won't feel that comfortable while reading.

Community...

2008-03-21T15:30:00.000-07:00

Meet my Malawian family.

Some of you may be thinking... "Family? That white boy stands out like a cornflake in a bowl of Cocoa-Puffs! How can they be family!?!"

Yeah yeah... So they aren't really my flesh and blood family... I admit it. But, when I sit around the living room with these people, I feel right at home.

I met the Kamthunzi's shortly after arriving in Malawi, and knew from the beginning that these guys would become close friends.

These days, I cherish the times when I stroll into their house unexpected, and without one word being said, I find a place with my name on it at the dinner table. We waste hours sitting around laughing at my over-confident use of the Chichewa language and talking at length about American politics (of which they know far more about than most American's I know).

As I recall sitting on the floor at a prayer gathering surrounded by a living room full of friends back in August before I came to Malawi... one of the things that we prayed for was that I would be able to find community in Malawi like I had experienced with them. I knew deep down that community is hard. It takes effort. It takes perseverance. I trusted God to go before me and prepare that.

Although it definitely hasn't happened over night, each day I feel more and more at home here in Malawi.

Do I lay in bed some nights and yearn to be back with the people I love? ...Oh yeah!

Do I wish that I could have just one taste of good Cajun food like a huge pot of gumbo at my grandparents? ...Don't even get me started!

But, the other day as I was sitting around the dinner table with this family enjoying nsima and chicken and fish and unfiltered water... I thought to myself... this is good!

These people make me smile.

Although nothing will ever replace the family and the community that I love so much back at home, I am so grateful that God has broadened my horizons and placed so many amazing people in my life.

How lucky am I?

As I have strove to figure out what biblical community is supposed to look like for me at this stage in my life as well as in my future, being in Malawi has been a enormous asset. In America, our models for healthy, biblical community are few and far between... although I have been blessed to have some amazing people in my life that have pointed me in the right direction.

But, as a society, Malawi is miles ahead of most western societies when it comes to living a radical Acts 2* lifestyle. The open-door, open-pocketbook, open life scene that you find throughout the early church.

Some of the top characteristics of Malawian culture include: hospitality, family ties, respect, and sharing of resources.

Sadly, however, it seems like the American dream is slowly swimming across the Atlantic. In attempts to chase after success and "happiness" as seen in magazines, television and music, people seem to be placing less and less emphasis on the things above. I pray that before Malawians go down the same empty road that so many in the west have found themselves on, they would rest in the joy of living in community.

I pray that we in the west... the church... the people that like to read through the Acts 2 passage and analyze it rather than live it... I pray that we would take lessons from our Malawian brothers and sisters.

I thank God for the blessings of community.

*Acts 2:42-47 (The Message)

They committed themselves to the teaching of the apostles, the life together, the common meal, and the prayers.Everyone around was in awe—all those wonders and signs done through the apostles! And all the believers lived in a wonderful harmony, holding everything in common. They sold whatever they owned and pooled their resources so that each person's need was met. They followed a daily discipline of worship in the Temple followed by meals at home, every meal a celebration, exuberant and joyful, as they praised God. People in general liked what they saw. Every day their number grew as God added those who were saved.

Adventures Above the Clouds...

2008-03-18T06:07:00.000-07:00

Traveling in Africa is like a box of chocolates... you never know what you're gonna get.

I was recently able to have a really short get-a-way to South Africa with my parents. It was such an amazing experience, but I'll have to save that for another post.

It wasn't until right after we said our good-byes that the fun really started.

Although Malawi as a country has completely caught all my love and affection, the airline that represents it (Air Malawi) has yet to woo me.

After rushing to get to Johannesburg to catch my connecting flight back up to Blantyre, I arrive in just enough time to check in my baggage, enjoy high-speed internet, and a surprisingly nice airport lunch. After literally stuffing my face as quickly as I could, I picked up all my carry-ons and made my way to the gate... in just 2 hours, I would be back at my house and enjoying a nice, relaxing night.

As I approached the gate, the vacancy of the area caused my heart rate to pick up a little. I run to the nearest person in a bright green vest and inquire about my Air Malawi flight. They just kinda look at me and say, "Oh yeah... they just delayed it like 4 hours."

A bit aggravated, I make my way to the nearest coffee shop, plug in my computer and loose myself in the world of Photoshop for about 2-1/2 hours (my personal paradise) while enjoying a nice hot Irish Cream Latte that broke the bitter cold that surprised me when deboarding the plane in Joburg.

Finally, by 7:40 pm, my 3:00 flight had arrived!!

Fighting back hypothermia, I boarded the plane and knew that the next point of contact would be a nice, warm, beautiful Blantyre, Malawi.

WRONG!

Just as we were swooping down to Chileka Intl. Airport in Blantyre, the pilot makes an announcement that we are going to land in a different city instead, because he can't see the runway.

No problem, it's not like any of the 50+ people on the plane actually had a purpose for being in Blantyre on that particular day. Why not just take an air-tour of the country.

The airport wasn't expecting anyone that late, so pretty much all the staff had already hit the sack. But, lucky for us, there was one lone customs agent and a friendly fellow to drive us in a rickety old bus to the "hotel" that the airline was putting us up in.

Well... around 11:30 pm, we arrive at what was not exactly a "hotel"... it was more like a rest house (a step down from a "motel").

I wasn't too upset... in fact, it kind of made me just sit back and laugh to myself because I love how things work in Malawi. I mean, I have slept in much worse places here in Malawi, so a few hours in this place wasn't gonna break me. However, the plane full of business people from around the world were not as excited about the experience.

When the hotel informed us that they had almost enough "beds" for us, but not enough "rooms", people got really aggravated. "How do you expect us to share a room with someone we don't know!?! Some people are light sleepers, others snore!!", shouted one fellow with a funny accent. He, along with a few other selfish people, demanded that they get a whole room to themselves.

I, being the young, crazy, adventurous one of the group opted to just crash on the couch in the lounge of the place.

Around 1:00 am, I finally got some shut-eye... and them shortly after at 3:45 am, it was time to get up for breakfast and head back to the airport for an early flight.

The 25 minute flight between the two cities was the quietest flight I have been on. Everyone was out!

I arrived in my city a mere 12+ hours behind schedule, without an apology or even an admission that there was ever a problem. I mean, it's Air Malawi, what else would one expect... to actually get where you're going when you want to be there? Hahahahahaha... right!

Cheers to you Air Malawi... thanks for the adventure and soggy sandwich!

A Travel Diary In Photos...

2008-03-12T00:20:00.000-07:00

Bambo ndi Mayi
*I love that the word for "Dad" is Bambo!

Posing infront of the Baobab tree...

At the tea plantation... ymmm!

In the village ... Mom loves to take pictures!!

Lunchtime in the village! Goat and nsima...

Of course Dad liked it more than Mom!

Lake Malawi... the most beautiful place I've ever been!

Safari time!! We had hippos standing on our front porch during the night!

Sunday afternoon fun... football with the kids...

Cooking nsima with friends...

Eating nsima with friends...

Mom and Dad made new friends as well...

Of course I took way more pictures than this! As soon as I can, I will try and upload them to Flickr. But, I didn't want to deprive you any longer!!

Feelin' right at home...

2008-03-11T00:08:00.000-07:00

There's nothing like driving down a road that is completely in the middle of nowhere and being reminded of a place that I love so much and people that I love so much...

We're Still Alive!

2008-03-07T07:34:00.000-08:00

Just to cut down on all the hate e-mails that we are getting for not updating my blog while my parents are here... I figured I would say a little somethin. (just joking... my mom is freaking out that people are gonna be offended by that last part).

All is well... EXCEPT THE INTERNET!!

I would normally be more conscientious about updating regularly and such... but, I have been going whole days without even turning on my computer lately. This is unheard of for me! Times are really tough.

We have barely let our feet hit the ground since they have arrived. Without getting into details, we have seen:

Hippos
Crocks
Birds
Amazing views
Unbelievable freshwater fish at arms length
Gorgeous sunrises over Lake Malawi
Tasted tea straight from the tea plantation
Visited an orphanage that a friend of mine runs
Fallen in love with little Malawian kids (and the occasional Germans)
Survived a day in the Blantyre market
Clinched our seat belts while praying for God to save their demon possessed son from his driving rampages

... and that's just the first few days!

Still to come...

We will be heading down to one of the villages that I work in on Monday to see a different side of Malawi. Mom is sweatin' bullets over this... little does she know that this is only the beginning of the sweat!!

When the internet gods look down on us in favor, I will be sure to add a little more for the viewers.

To show you how bad the internet truly is... I am actually putting up a post without a photo! I think this may be the first time for that...

Much love to everyone... I promise I'm keeping them alive and kickin' (pray for a little less "kickin")

They want to thank everyone for their prayers!!

Look Who's Comin' to See Me!

2008-02-25T21:32:00.000-08:00

They are here safe and sound!

Now it's time to pray for jet lag... it's a killer!!

Well... If you ever read the comment sections of any of my posts, you probably picked up on the fact that my mom and dad are coming to visit me!

In fact, they are in the air right now, zooming across the Atlantic on the world's longest flight (no joke... 18 hours... Washington DC to Johannesburg).

I am really excited to be able to share some of my experiences with them and have my mom do some cooking for me!!

Please keep them in your prayers as they travel. Pray that all their bags will arrive so we don't have to worry about that.

Welcome to Malawi Mom and Dad!!

The Kids are Coming Around...

2008-02-21T11:47:00.000-08:00

Odd stares...

Whispering among themselves when I walked by...

The predictable burst of tears and cries of terror when I would reach a 15 foot radius of the smallest of them...

These are the things that I was experiencing day in and day out with the kids that live on our compound.

I mean... it was really starting to get to me. I have always been one of those people that's really good with kids. I love kids. They usually love me. Things just weren't adding up.

It's one thing when I'm out in a village where kids don't see white folk that often and a little kids screams in terror... I can handle that. I would probably do the same! But, it's a completely different thing when the kids that see you every single day for months on end still look at you like you just slaughtered their cat!

Since I'm usually all about conspiracies and such, I was pretty much convinced that these kids were being fed lies about me by their parent's or something. I just knew that each night before they went to bed, they were told horror stories about a crazy white man chopping up little kids and eating them for breakfast, and then they would flash pictures of ME in front of them!!

It became this running joke between me and their parent's. I would ask them in a joking way what they were telling their kids to make them hate me so much that I can't even tell a family member hello without making a kid go postal on me.

I started strategizing a few weeks ago about how to break through this problem. It pretty much became a mission for me!

One thing that came to mind was my funny little hat. I wear this hat quite nearly every day... the only exception is Sunday or if the President is coming to visit my house or something... other than that, I'm sporting my little Castro-cap 24/7! So, maybe the hat freaks out the little ones? So, I started some experiments... remove the cap when approaching child. STILL... nothing!

Finally... I came to the point where I could find my identity in Christ and I just didn't need the approval of children any longer. So what if they think I'm the spawn of Satan... I'm sure there are plenty of little white kids back home that think I'm the stuff (or at least tolerate me).

Then, last weekend after church, it was a beautiful day. For some really odd reason, I got this foreign urge to initiate a football (soccer for Americans) kicking (*not really a game... just kicking it around... so I'll term it "football kicking") with some of the kids that live around here.

This may come as a shock to pretty much anyone that has ever heard of my existence. I'm just not really the sportsy type. I mean... for those of you that get off to that kind of stuff... good on ya... but, it ain't me... I ain't no fortunate son.

But, after spending like 3 hours in our backyard just kicking the ball around until my bare foot was blood red, I began to notice something. The kids were acting as if they had been released from some white boy hating prison! It was fantastic!!

I would say something in Chichewa to them and they would all start giggling and mocking me and stuff... so, I would just run up to a little kid and throw him over my shoulder and run around the yard. Then all the kids would start mocking me and I would have to throw them all around. Fun times...

But now... 5 days later... those kids still go crazy when they see me coming. Just today, one little smart alack 5 year old started mocking me the same way they were doing on Sunday... so, once again... I had to throw him over my shoulder and run around the yard with him screaming.

So... I'm pretty much on cloud 9 now that the neighborhood kids don't think that I'm Cruella de Vil's husband.

Mission accomplished... now, on to curing the world of AIDS!

Bush is in the air...

2008-02-18T02:42:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure how much the US News networks are really covering this amidst the election craze... but, GW Bush is touring Africa ... and according to an informant in the comment section of my last post, he is clogging up the African air space a bit!

Read what nationals from the countries he is visiting have to say about his visit...

It's always interesting to see what people living in other parts of the world (particularly the parts of the world that are highly effected by US foreign policy) think about America and its ideals.

Either way... Welcome to Africa Mr. President... I hope you enjoy your stay.

**Some people may be wondering why Bush is waiting until his last few months in office to visit Africa (although as much as it hurts me to say... he has reportedly done more for Africa than any previous President)... However, if like me, you think that it is a pretty big deal for the President of the most powerful nation on the planet to make Africa a priority, Click Here to sign a pledge asking the next elected president to visit Africa within his first term.**

***A concluding report by the BBC

"What's wrong with the world, mama? People livin' like they ain't got no mamas..."

2008-02-17T11:02:00.000-08:00

There have been a few things since I've been here that have absolutely amazed me... and caused me to think.

One of those things is the sheer amount of weight that one lady can carry atop her head. But, we won't discuss that right now.

The other is the crazy power to transform societies and people that music possesses.

There are few things in this world that you can travel the world over and never escape... 1. Coca-Cola 2. Music (particularly, whatever is at the top of the charts in the States).

I have found people in the remotest of villages that will have their battery operated radio cranked to the max, jammin' out to "You're way too beautiful girl... that's why it'll never work... you have me suicidal, suicidal...". Or my personal all time favorite by Mr. Mims himself... "This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot! I'm hot cuz I'm fly... you ain't cuz you're not!"

Sometimes I just sit there and wonder to myself... does that rapper or singer or whoever have a fat clue that people the whole world over are memorizing every word that they put forth? Do they realize that kids are singing their songs in villages in Africa, slums in India, the plains of Mongolia?

As I've thought about this, I've just been a little frustrated.

Because these pop stars are so popular around the world, you've got girls in Blantyre trying to act like Beyoncé, and guys thinking that they are Master P.

Maybe it's just me... but, of all the things that we can be exporting from America, why's it gotta be trashy songs that have already infiltrated the minds of American youth and rooted themselves in our society?

There's just something about art that can transcend all cultural lines and touch the heart... cause people to think... change mindsets.

In a time when our world is filled with so much crap... I just wish that more people would realize the power they possess at their fingertips and use it for good.

Just imagine how different societies would be if, instead of being pumped full of trash that says that "the world owes me everything", that "I'm better than everyone", or that "I can knock up a bunch of girls and not worry about stickin' around"... songs were full of messages that speak truth? Speak justice? Speak respect? Speak love (deep, committed, Biblical, sacrificial love)?

It's just funny to me... we (USA) throw a whole heck of lot of money around the world, trying to "make things better" (or so they say), yet, I submit that some of the greatest obstacles that sit in the way of "making things better" are being shipped from within the same borders (and music is just one small piece of that puzzle).

These are just a few observations... I'm not necessarily trying to start a revolution with this or anything. I'm really not even one of those people that are die-hard anti-rap music. In fact, there's just something about a lot of R&B/Rap music that just gets me going. It's great.

But, something about walking around in a village and suddenly hearing sounds from the Bronx just causes your head to turn.

The title of this post is the first line of one of my favorite R&B songs. Where Is The Love? by the Black Eyed Peas.

A Profile

2008-02-11T21:36:00.000-08:00

Abusa (Pastor) Prince Stazio

A young guy in his 30s

Overseeing numerous churches in the district of Chikwawa, Malawi

Husband and Father of 2 (Yanko and Prince Jr.)

Living in a small, but adequate house in the town of Chikwawa that is never lacking in traffic.

Church members throughout the denomination drop in to see this man of God on a regular basis.

After picking Stazio up last week and accompanying him to a remote village, I got to know a little bit more about this man.

Each week, he has the responsibility of looking out for a number of churches within the denomination that have no pastor.

On this particular instance, he was hitching a ride with us in order to visit a church member that had recently lost one of his young children.

He is one of those guys that just makes you smile when you around him. You would never assume that he is a man of importance.

Over a meal of goat and nsima, I figured I would try and get to know him a little better.

"Stazio, what were the circumstances of you realizing that you were called to be a pastor?", I asked.

"Well," he replied, "after receiving my education in Blantyre, I was a businessman working down in Nsanje. I was doing pretty well, but as I was going to church, I realized that God was wanting me to be a pastor. When I told my family that I was going to go to Bible School, they were not very happy. I was the responsible person for all of my extended family. I was about to go from a well paying job to the small salary that a village pastor receives."

Yet, he was faithful to the Lord.

Even though this decision meant certain sacrifice, he knew that when you are called by God, you don't just say no.

Sacrifice for a pastor like Stazio means, hopping on a bicycle on Saturdays and riding at times up to 50 Kilometers to get to the church where he will be preaching Sunday morning

In a country that does not have a church on every street corner with 5 staff members and the majority of the people sitting in the pew possessing enough Bible knowledge to be a leader themselves, such sacrifices are simply necessary.

When he was asked whether the demands of his job ever discourage him, he replied:

“I’ve been chosen by God, so I can’t resign.”

Hip-Hop...Hip-Hop-Anonymous

2008-02-08T01:16:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, as I was returning from a morning in a village down south, we decided to take a short stroll through a nearby game park.

This is actually one of the worst times of the year to actually see animals. Because of the rains, the the bush is very thick and green... and there are plenty of water holes for animals to find a drink. It's best to go during the dry season, you are almost guaranteed to see animals at one of the few water holes.

Nonetheless, we were driving by, so we thought... what the heck.

When we got to the gate, we inquired about the price to get in... and it was not to my liking. I gave the guy a hard time for charging too much... then reached in my pocket and complied because I wasn't just going to turn around after all that effort. Then of course, you have to pay for a guide... and a map... and a car fee. So, after I was close to broke, he opened the gate, and in we went!

After driving for quite a while and only seeing crickets land on our windshield, we looked at each other and said, "If this was a tree safari, it would be amazing!"

Then, we rounded a corner and bam... there they were...

A group of Elephants!

Immediately, I yanked up the parking brake and jumped out of the car with a huge camera as my only shield.

Our guide, who moments earlier I saw dozing off in our back seat, suddenly started yelling at me to "Get back in the truck!! These are very dangerous animals! If they start charging, they will crush the truck!!" For a guy carrying an AK47, he sure was a little weenie!

So... I snapped a ton of pictures until they started staring me down a little more and I turned into a little weenie and decided to move on.

With my adrenaline out the roof, we started down the trail again... then, around the next curb... we saw this...

As we got closer to them, I was able to stop just a few meters away from this magnificent creature and watch him pose for me...

Suddenly, I was no longer thinking about how mad I was that our guide fell asleep on us or that our car was making funny noises. I was pumped!

Next stop was the Shire River.

**Side note: For all you Lord of the Rings fans out there... Tolkien was actually inspired to write the series while he was staying in Malawi. And the Shire (pronounced: shir-ree around here) would later become the Shire in his books.

Anyway... when we drove up to the bank of the fast moving river, we saw a nice group of Hippos just bobbing in the water. Actual wild hippos. I was really stoked!

I was a little aggravated that our guide once again was forcing us to keep our distance. Although, in this case, I was a little more willing to comply, considering Hippos are one of the most man killing animals in Africa.

But, then our guide gave us a chance to break free when he turned around and started peeing in the bush. So, we got a bit closer and were able to get some cool shots!

Although this isn't something that I see everyday here in Malawi, it sure made my day yesterday!

You can check out some of the other pictures that I took of these guys on Flickr.

♫ It’s A Beautiful Day ... don't let it slip away

2008-02-02T11:59:00.000-08:00

This morning, as my eyes took in their first image of the day, I noticed things looked different.

My room was a bit brighter than normal.

It just felt different.

For the last month or more, day in and day out it has been overcast... if we're lucky. Most of the time it just rains.

Today, I knew when I woke up that it wasn't like any other day.

As I walked to my front door and peered through the window, I almost lost it.

Blue sky and sunny!

It was a perfect early spring day. Not too hot. Breezy. Sunny. Perfect!

So, as is my tradition on Saturday morning, I made myself some pancakes, scarfed them down, called my friends and headed to the pool.

We spent the entire half of the day just laying by the pool, reading and refilling my dehydrated sun quota.

I have been giddy all day.

It's really weird how that works... In the middle of November, when it had been months since I had seen water falling from the sky, I had the insatiable craving to just stand out in the open as rain came pouring from the sky. I would have given anything for just one small shower. Now... as the rains have come and won't leave, that same craving has been replaced by the sun. You just long for one afternoon when you can sit outside and just enjoy the moment.

So, today, that's what I did. I just enjoyed the moments.

Tonight, I go to bed with a red chest and a huge smile across my face!

Wait... But I Always Thought...

2008-02-01T03:05:00.000-08:00

It seems like more than any other place on earth, Africa has more mystery, depth and stereotypes.

The more and more I talk to people about my experiences in Malawi, I frequently hear something like... "Wait... but I always thought..."

Many people's only perception of the continent has come from Walt Disney or National Geographic.

Needless to say, the first thing that comes to most Americans mind's about Africa is Tarzan, Timon and Pumba, or fierce Zulu warriors.

So, I thought it would be good to expand our horizons and mindsets about this wonderful continent...

First of all... Africa is a very large continent.

It is comprised of 54 separate countries... but for some reason many people speak in general terms about Africa. We don't really do that about any other region of the world, but when it comes to Africa we think differently. The reality is, Africa is no different than Asia, Europe or South America... within each continent, there are a great variety of countries and languages represented.

Within the small country of Malawi alone, there are several different people groups and languages represented. Although they share many cultural attributes, they all have very distinct ones as well. This is magnified much more when you're talking about the differences between people from Malawi and say, Ethiopia. Between the two, there are as many differences as America and Germany.

However, one of the great travesties of our history happened when the white colonizers pulled out a map of Africa while sitting in their European palaces and just started drawing lines. You see, in pre-colonized Africa, there weren't really any "countries". There were simply many many groups of people living next to each other with very different customs. Some lived next to each other peacefully, others opposed each other.

But, when the colonizers picked up their maps and pencils, they took none of this into consideration. They drew lines right across territories of people, placing 1 group of people in several different, newly formed countries. Some groups of people that had been in opposition for centuries were now under 1 government!

The reason for many of the wars across Africa were not because people in Africa are violent, primitive beasts... many of them were simply an inevitability of what happens when you put different people under one roof.

There is also a widespread belief held by Westerners that Africans are all mired in poverty and living in mud houses. I will be one of the first to step up and take the blame for perpetrating that one.

For years, one of the most alluring and mysterious things about Africa was the thought of adventure and getting back to your roots or something.

The less reported and somewhat less alluring aspect of modern Africa is the fact that not everyone lives in huts and runs around naked. In fact, there is a growing trend for people to move to cities like the one I live in and start businesses. In Blantyre, there are several big buildings, and Malawian business people dress way nicer than I ever do!

Another funny site is to see the amount of people that use cell phones here. There are a ton of Malawians that are always on their cells.

It's really easy for us to just buy into everything our media feeds us in the West. But, I really think it's essential to open our minds and check things out for ourselves. Western media is never going to report accurately on Africa. It's sad but true.

So, next time you hear about some war among "primitive" people in Africa, take a second to really look into the story. I think it would be surprised what you find out.

New Addition...

2008-01-29T12:12:00.001-08:00

For those of you who don't watch every detail of this blog like a hawk, I wanted to let you know about a brand new addition.

The "Take Action!" section in the sidebar!

You will find a pretty long list of different organizations that I have have come across and think are noteworthy. Some of them are reaching out to the poor, others are advocating for the poor in politics, others are just a great place to learn about the issues.

As I find others that I think would be helpful to you, I will be sure and add them.

I hope you find it useful.

Meaningless Insight #3: Food

2008-01-23T03:48:00.001-08:00

Food was one of those unknowns when coming to Malawi.

I'm pretty sure people assume that I am over hear eating berries, nuts and monkeys.

I mean... when I first got on the plane, I didn't really know what to expect either.

The reality is... I don't really eat "Malawian" food all that often. So, I'll give you a little rundown on what I eat pretty regularly, as well as what the typical Malawian diet looks like.

ME

On my first day in Malawi, I did what every other short-termer does in their orientation... go shopping. I expected that going "shopping" would be a nice stroll through the market to get some veggies and then perusing through the stock of animals to decide which one I would kill for dinner.

Oh no... this was not entirely the case at all. No one prepares us for the culture shock that always ensues. Blantyre has two well stocked grocery stores. Just when you get off the plane ready for this rugged experience of a lifetime, you walk through the doors of Shoprite and Game... your eyes get really big and head starts spinning. All around you, there are swarms of white faces, diligently selecting their items from the shelf.

Game is the name of the department store type place. It's a little pricey, not gonna lie, but you can pretty much get most things. They have computers, digital cameras, stainless steal cutlery, washing machines, and Doritos!

So, basically I'm not really doing without a lot. Granted there are a lot of things that we enjoy at home that simply don't make it over here on whatever boat it comes on, but there is enough. There are much less processed foods here. So, a lot of my cooking starts from the ground up. I love cooking now!

I do frequent the local market pretty often though. You just can't beat the fresh veggies and experience that you get at the market. I just love it!

For breakfast, most days I eat toast and some fruit or something. But, a few days a week, I will make some French toast and even pancakes from scratch. YUM!

My dinner is always interesting.

For a while, I was rockin' the spaghetti about 3-4 times a week. I was getting good at it too! Then, I expanded my horizons a bit and started trying other things. I eat rice a lot. Over half my meals have rice in them somehow.

I also do a little baking here and there. Never knew how to do that. But, I've made: banana bread, cookies, cakes, corn bread, ect.

Some of the funnier things in the food selection are:

Potato Chips: A lot of our food like that comes up from South Africa. For some reason, you just get really random flavors. My first time to shop, I bought a bag of tomato flavored chips. GAG! I ate like one, and out they went! But, some that aren't bad are: chicken and thyme, spring onion, sweet thai, and lightly salted.

Milk: it comes in a box... or a bag. Take your pick.

Also, cheese is really expensive. Oh how I miss cheese. And it even stinks more that you can't really ship it... so, it's not like I can tell people to send it to me.

Another thing you have to get used to is using the British terms for foods:

Cookies: Biscuit
Ground beef: Mince
French fries: Chips
Chips: Crisps
... and the list goes on and on...

Malawian

In one word, you can sum up practically the entire Malawian diet... NSIMA.

This is what most people eat day in and day out... occasionally substituted with rice.

So, basically nsima is kinda similar to grits. It's made from corn flour, mixed with boiling water... rendering a playdough-like patty (see picture at the top of the post). It's virtually tasteless.

You pinch off a chunk of this, using your "natural utensils", and mold it around in your hand. Then you dip it into whatever sauce you are eating with it and chow down.

Usually, Malawians make a tomato and onion based sauce that goes with it.

With that, you can have goat (mbuzi), chicken (nkhuku), beef (ng'ombe), fish (nsamba) or beans (nyemba).

Then, on the side they usually cook what they call relish or ndiwo. It's just leafy green veggies that are chopped up real small and cooked with tomatoes and onions.

Although there are slight variations on this, that's basically it.

Another Malawian favorite in the drink arena is: Thobwa.

This is basically corn mill fermented in water for a while, and just before it turns into beer, they drink it. I tried it once, but I didn't think I would be able to keep the second sip down, so I passed.

In the morning, people eat a slightly more liquid version of nsima, which they call porridge. It's got a little sugar in it.

A few other observations that I have made are that, as a whole, Malawians love two things: sugar and salt!

As a health guy, I usually just turn my head when I see that someone is about to sweeten their coffee or salt their food. If I don't turn my head, I usually open my mouth and start preaching about how that's gonna kill them. Which they are probably thinking is ridiculous considering the other things that they have to live through.

There you go... food.

Mother Teresa

2008-01-20T05:40:00.001-08:00

I just got through reading the biography of Mother Teresa.

Wow... What a challenge to my life.

I never really knew what it meant to truly take Jesus at his word when he says:

For I was hungry and you have me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.

Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?

The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

Matthew 25.35-40

This is basically what Mother Teresa based her entire ministry on (more or less).

It was so simple.

She wasn't out to change the whole world or anything... she just honestly saw in each person's face, the face of Christ. She knew that by serving the poorest of the poor, she was really serving Christ himself.

Despite all the fame that she eventually gained for what her and the sisters were doing, she still intentionally lived in poverty herself. This is what I find most fascinating. One of the things that she urged people around her to do constantly, was to "give until it hurts".

Wow!... I don't do that! I give out of my surplus. I give when it makes me feel good. When it even comes close to "hurting" I stop giving. What a challenge to people that claim to follow Christ. We need to be giving (love, time, energy, money, possessions) until it hurts.

One of the prayers that she said often, that really spoke to me, was this:

Lord, make me a channel of thy peace,
that where there is hatred, I may bring love;
that where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness;
that where there is discord, I may bring harmony;
that where there is error, I may bring truth;
that where there is doubt, I may bring faith;
that where there is despair, I may bring hope;
that where there are shadows, I may bring light;
that where there is sadness, I may bring joy.

Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted;
to understand rather than to be understood;
to love rather than to be loved;
for it is by forgetting self that one finds;
it is by forgiving that one is forgiven;
it is by dying that one awakens to eternal life.

The way she saw the poor was unlike most. She rarely saw poverty in monetary terms. She seemed to be disturbed more by the mountain of poverty present in the West, among the "rich", than that of what we term "Third World".

One thing she said that really stood out to me was this: "The poor represent the greatest human richness this world possesses and yet we despise them, behave as if they were garbage."

Basically, reading this book has really caused me to examine my life according to the example that Jesus sets for us... not according to Mother Teresa or even what is being preached today... but, to go to scripture and ask the hard questions.

I am still processing through a lot of this. Perhaps I will write more about some of these thoughts in the future.

But for now... I just wanted to give a recommendation for this book. If you are just looking for something to read, I would recommend it.

I also want to take this time to direct your attention to the right hand column of the blog. I have a few different recommendation categories. These are all books, movies, or articles that I have encountered and think are worth your time. Check em out if you want.

Sara + (Days on Earth ÷ 365) = 23

2008-01-19T01:18:00.001-08:00

Sunday, January 20, 2008, my amazing girlfriend becomes as old as I am (at least on paper).

Just want to give a little shout out to her... a little, what what on her birthday, ya know.

For those of you that haven't had the blessing of meeting her, let me give you a little insight into how incredible she is...

More than anyone else I know, she reads the Word and simply goes and does it. Not just the easy parts like smiling at your neighbors and stuff either... I'm talkin about the uncomfortable ones. The parts that I would rather just skim over and pretend like they mean something else.

She takes God at his word, obeys it, and sees the fruit from that.

She is one of the most encouraging people I've ever met. I've never met someone that keeps a frown on their face when they are in her presence.

She sees injustices and does what she can to fix them.

People think that I'm roughin' it over here... her job is way more toiling on a person than mine could ever be. She saw the need for good teachers to go into the schools that all the good teachers run from, and bit the bullet and decided to be the hands and feet of Christ to the teenagers that most people have just written off in the inner-city of Bryan, TX.

She loves the body of Christ (faults and all) deeply. I've never seen someone join a church the size of Living Hope, and within 3 months or so pretty much the whole church knows who she is... not because she's out promoting herself, but because she cares about what's going on in other people's lives.

She is one of the only people that I can talk about some of the hardest things about life, faith and society with, and know that she isn't gonna just tell me what I want to hear, but she is gonna shoot straight with me.

The list could go on and on... believe me!

But, I just want to say that you are INCREDIBLE!

So, those of you that are around her today or this week, be sure and wish her a happy birthday for me, and give her the big hug that I can't give her!

Happy Birthday Sweetheart!

Meaningless Insight #2: Noises

2008-01-17T10:33:00.000-08:00

They never cease.

The difference between noises here and the ones at home is that at home, we create other background noises that drown everything out.

So, in the simplicity of an uncluttered moment in time, you find a wild array of things still present to beat incessantly on your ear drums.

Some of the sounds that will forever be burnt into the memory of my ears are the following...

1.) The hooting of horns on cars. (Hooting is Chichewa for what "honking" is in Texas)

I can be laying in bed late at night, and in the distance I will hear someone blaring their horn over and over again. You see, most people in my neighborhood have someone that guards their property at night. A guard makes for a handy person to open the gate for you after you've come in late. Granted, at midnight, a simple, single touch to the horn would certainly get the job done in getting the attention on the guard on duty. But, oh no! You have to press it over and over and over and over, because that guard just isn't ever quick enough! (Except for ours... Bester is always on the ball!)

There are also the horns that sing together during mid-day traffic in town. Mini-bus drivers are by no means unacquainted with that blessed instrument. Rather than sitting quietly in an extremely congested mess of angry mini-bus drivers against angelic drivers like myself, it is imperative that you honk repetitively so that everyone knows that you are present.

2.) Dogs going crazy outside of my window.

There are certainly nights that the Texan comes out in my extreme desire to call on my right to bear arms and bring a little silence to the neighborhood. The dog that resides within feet of my bedroom window is always on some form of doggy happy pills or something. She stays caged up for the duration of the day and is only let out at night. But, when you let that dog free, she is free indeed! Free to jump all over you with her dirty paws... and free to bark as much and as loud as she wants!

It also doesn't help that pretty much every single compound in our neighborhood owns at least one dog. So, once one gets going, you suddenly have a chorus of sounds from Hell.

3.) Sawing.

You may be thinking that this one is a little off. "How on earth does the sound of a ridged blade chewing away at wood end up on this list... Is this gonna be one of those save the rainforest posts?!"

Well... pretty much each and every morning of my time here in Blantyre (save the single oasis of Sunday morning)... at about 6:30-7:00, the rhythm begins. Just a steady up and down motion. It's the sound of the carpenter that builds stuff for our mission, hard at work with his hand saw or wood plane. It's one of those things that you would think could possibly have a soothing, "put you to sleep" feel to it, but it just doesn't. I toss and turn and curse the day this man was born, until I finally unveil myself from the mosquito net, pour myself a cup of coffee and repent for the horrible things I thought about this man.

4.) German children playing happily in the A.M.

This one is closely tied to the previous. Another weird one for sure... German kids... Africa. It doesn't measure up does it?

Well... I live on the same property as a wonderful family from Germany that have 4 incredible kids. They really are a great family. The kids are all pretty small... and something about kids that are about that size and the tension in their vocal cords just does not produce a wrest-conducive environment.

At about 7:00 am, just after the instrumentality of the sawing has begun... suddenly there appear lyrics. Very loud lyrics with strange accents. Playing mere feet from the sleeping giant, yet apparently oblivious to what lay behind the blue curtains in my room. They run and play happily, screaming things back and forth to each other in a language that gives me one more thing to repent of over my cup of coffee.

5.) Static Radios.

This one goes right along with the other wake-up calls. However, this phenomenon is usually rather secluded to my time in the villages... probably because God knows exactly how much I can take.

Village life exists on a whole different time table that the rest of the world. When the sun goes down, down goes the people. When the sun comes up, up comes the people... except for one particular white one. The good thing is... it feels quite natural to head to bed around 9:00 when you have no lights or anything to give you something to do. So, waking up at the crack of dawn isn't all that crazy. But still... come on.

People just don't even think about the fact that one person could possibly still be asleep. So, they talk outside of their quiet voices, slam doors, and blare their radios way too early!

There is nothing that will make you realize where you are faster than a static-filled radio blaring something in a different language right outside your window. Usually, soon after the frustration and negative thoughts in my mind have passed, I just kinda chuckle to myself... thankful that I'm in Malawi.

6.) Rain.

Early on in the rainy season, I wrote about my thoughts on rain.

Although the documentation of the actual way that rain sounds still stands true... the degree of my love toward rain (e.g. "I say 'Boooo' to the man that wrote the song: 'Rain, rain go away... Come again some other day.' That song is just lame anyway...") has definitely had its ups and downs. I have pretty much been the author of that song for the last month or so, as rain has visited us on virtually a daily basis.

7.) Screaming people.

Whether it's people screaming for a mini-bus to stop, people screaming to get someone's attention, or people just screaming with delight... it's there.

Screaming.

Don't get a picture of some warlike situation where people are carrying machetes and yelling "Death to the government"... that's not what I mean at all. I think people just express themselves more here. They aren't afraid to be loud. In many cases, you just plane have to be loud!

8.) "Azungu! Azungu!"

I feel like I have these words taped across my shiny white forehead! They are repeated over and over and over again as I walk, drive or stand in a village. Every kid and their dog are yelling in unison, "AZUNGU! AZUNGU!". This is the word for "White person".

Your first few weeks here are the honeymoon stage. I used to tilt my head and smile at the cute little kids that loved me so much. I just couldn't get enough of it. Then, I think around the thousandth time that word hits your ears, something clicks. Suddenly, you just have this insatiable urge to be called anything other than "Azungu".

Call me "Hey!"... Call me "What's up?"... Call me "Jesse Jackson!" for all I care... Just enough with the "Azungu".

But, like all things, you come to terms with the realization that this is yet another fact of life. Kids in Malawi are always going to yell "Azungu" at white people. They do it because they are excited... it's not to torment me or to show me glimpses of what Hell could be like.

So... although I would have picked a different mantra for my life... "Azungu" will just have to do.

Well... I have racked my brain to try and make this a list of 10, but I feel like this just about sums up the major sounds that I hear a lot of. If you have been to Africa, or you live next door to me and can think of other things, feel free to comment for the readers.

So, you may be wondering now... "how does this boy stay sane?!"

I DON'T!!!

Just kidding...

Well... just this week we had a public holiday. I was pretty excited about it. Don Chilembwe Day (the name may be a little off). I could think of no better way to ring in this great day that celebrates one of Malawi's heroic freedom fighters, than to stay under my mosquito net for as long as possible. In order to accomplish this, I knew I would have to be creative. So, I made sure that all of my windows were tightly secured, and the curtains were pulled, in order to ensure the utmost sound control. Then I brought my fan into my room and turned on high for some white noise, and made it face the corner. I was sure that these attempts would certainly drown out the sawing, screaming and barking enough to buy me a few extra minutes of rest. And... although those things were definitely still there, and they definitely still woke me up earlier, I was able to get a few extra minutes of contentment in before the coffee.

So... there you go... Noises.

Meaningless Insight #1: Behind the Wheel

2008-01-11T05:51:00.000-08:00

I'm kinda feeling a lack of really deep things to write about right now... so, I figured I would give you guys some rather meaningless insights into my life here in Malawi.

My premier entry will be about the adventures behind the wheel of a golimoto (vehicle).

Driving in Malawi is not for the faint of heart.

You have to be on your game every second of your time on the roads.

The first major obstacle that one must overcome is that in Malawi, not unlike most of the known world, they drive on the, need I say, wrong side of the road. I'm such an American...

My first few weeks of attempting this new way of life were rough. There were many times that I pulled onto a road in the wrong lane... which is a mistake that you must quickly repair.

It took me a good month to begin walking to the right side of the car if I was the driver. I remember feeling like an idiot as I stepped into the passenger's side door, being the only one around.

The next... well, more like simultaneous, trial that I faced was driving a stick. I think that everyone should have to learn to drive a standard before they become lazy bums and take up an automatic. It requires way more attention and concentration. However, after a long day of climbing a mountain or something, the first thing you want to do is slap the cruise control button, and the last thing you want to do is keep that foot on the clutch!

Once you get past these simple things that we should all be more comfortable with anyway... Welcome to Malawi... Land of the bazillion mini-buses!

What is a "mini-bus" you may ask?

Good question!

Mini-buses were introduced to Malawi back in the 1990's. They are pretty much bigger than sliced bread... come to think of it, they actually slightly resemble sliced bread. They are the most common form of public transport. Whether you want to travel to a different part of town or a different part of the country, your friendly mini-bus driver is your man! (*I say the word "friendly" sparingly.)

You may be thinking... "Public transport?! Those look more like my child's Tonka toys."

This is another very keen observation! Compared to the giant, gas-guzzling buses that you find in the cities of America, these do look like their day old new borns. But, fear not... you can certainly cram just as many people in a mini-bus as its big brother Mr. Greyhound.

With a few extra, illegal seating installations, a mini-bus driver has for himself a very lucrative business going. You just may have a complete stranger sitting all up in your grill.

"Why are you discussing these breadmobiles in such detail?" you may be asking...

Another great question!

Because I HATE them!!!!

Back to my side of the steering wheel... the reason I have shin splints from coming on and off the clutch so often is directly correlated with Mr. Mini-bus!

These things are EVERYWHERE. They are like enormous, white ants that have clever slogans painted across their backs.

Just when you're driving along with utmost peace and tranquility... BAM! Satan sends a mini-bus careening within inches of my front grill to remind me that I shouldn't get too comfortable.

I'm quite sure that if someone was actually to check the legitimacy of these drivers in the form of a license, you would probably be shocked and dismayed.

Nonetheless, mini-buses are a fact of life in this beautiful country. You either suck it up and deal with them or sit at home and pray that your food supply grows feet and walks to your front door... which may not be that crazy of a prayer.

In spite of all these added extras, I must say that there is something quite exhilarating about getting behind the wheel in Malawi. The main reason that I am so fond of it is the simple fact that you will never find a party-pooper policeman waiting to give you a ticket for speeding. Coming from someone that has had his party pooped on numerous times back home, I do not take this blessing lightly.

But, this is not to say that there aren't traffic police. They definitely show their faces from time to time... specifically about half-way between paydays. They set up these nifty little road blocks by which they randomly will stick their hand out to signal you to stop and have a chat. Usually it's just a friendly 'hello, how are you today?'... other times, they want to see your license... and other times, they want to know what you got them for Christmas. You just never know!

Of course, so far, I have been speaking about urban driving... Once you hit the countryside, you're in a whole different ball game.

There are aspects about each scenario that I have come to like and dislike.

Depending on my mood and the length of my trip, the rugged, bumpy, dirt roads can either be and adventure or an agitation. One thing is for sure... you get a lot more of these when you are driving in the middle of nowhere...

All in all... I love the joys and exasperations of buckling up and shifting it into first.

Tchalichi... Being stretched and molded

2008-01-07T11:17:00.000-08:00

Each week, I am faced with an interesting scenario.

Church.
(The picture above is not where I go to church... it's just a beautiful church in Blantyre)

I'm a Christian.

At home, church to me is more than tchalichi (the building), it's Mpingo (the body of Christ).

Throughout my time at university, I would crave what Sunday morning or Saturday night would hold. I fell in love with the Mpingo that surrounded me.

As we all naturally do, in whatever culture we find ourselves brought up in, we become accustomed to something being done a certain way. It is so easy to think that the slightest variations from that are the announcement of the end of the world.

I have always allowed myself to think outside the box when it comes to church. I never really fell into the molds of how things had always been done. I am always looking for something real and genuine... something other than routine.

But, even in the midst of an open mind, I come here and find that I was really only standing inside a transparent box. I couldn't see it when I was at home. I thought I was game for anything. I could worship God in any way, shape, form, building, language... you name it!

But, something about being in a different culture creates a glare on that shiny glass box that I live in, and I become aware that I am much less adaptable than I originally suspected.

Going to church here has been a process for me.

Not gonna lie... there are many Sundays that I stare up at my blue mosquito net and rack my brain to think of an excuse to just lay there.

You see... I've never liked doing things merely for the sake of doing them. Especially when it comes to church. It never makes sense to me to do something because it's always been done and recite something that no one knows the meaning of, just because that's what you're supposed to do.

I think deep down, I just have a rebel flag tattooed somewhere that I can't see. I'm always wanting to buck the system for some good reason.

Then I land here.

Excitedly, I get to church early the first time I go. I had so many expectations and yet no idea what would really happen. I remember being giddy that day after I experienced a worship service here.

Then, weeks turn into months, and one service entirely in Chichewa turns into many.

The cultural experience of "church" just isn't getting me out of the bed with bells on anymore.

In my mind, I can't figure out what purpose I have for going to a building and sitting in a sharp, metal chair for 2 hours and not understanding a single word.

But, pang'ono pang'ono (little by little), the Lord is stretching and bending me and chiseling away at that glass box that I built around myself.

This past Sunday was kind of a breaking point for me.

I have been complaining a lot about how hard it is to sit through church. Then, I realized I really needed to pray about my attitude and just pray for the local church here in Malawi.

So, I'm sitting on the second row, and all is well.

This Sunday, the guy that was more or less M.C.ing the service was someone that I hadn't seen before... and he was pretty lively! He yells "Hallelujah!!", and our response is "AMEN!".

Then, right after a prayer, and straight out of the blue sky, I hear him say, "Give me a 'J'!"...

I think anyone could have seen my jaw hit the floor and my 'you gotta me kiddin me' face. In sheer amazement of the moment, all I could think about was how much I wanted a recorder at this moment.

We definitely went through all five letters... J-E-S-U-S... and a exuberant "What does that spell?" at the end!

It was all the willpower I could muster up to not just loose it right there on the 2nd row.

But, as I kinda let out a chuckle to myself, thinking how ridiculous that would sound in my church back home, I realized that it is just as much "worship" as a group of white folk singing with their eyes closed and hands lifted... or singing the ancient hymns that have stood for centuries... or bowing down at the alter... or partaking in communion.

Was I too cool to yell a simple "J-E-S-U-S"? The very name that we gather to worship in the first place.

Later in the service, as we began singing worship to the Lord, I found myself swept away in the Chichewa lyrics that I did not know the meaning of. I sang with all of my heart with my brothers and sisters in Christ, and in the intimacy of those moments, I was so thankful that the Lord is calling people all over the world to worship him. It looks so different in every circumstance.

As I've had to make due with what is here for me... I've come to realize that all my white, Western ducks don't have to be in a row for me to meet with the Lord.

One of the most amazing worship times I've experienced was just a few weeks ago...

I was visiting a really small church outside of Lilongwe. These guys met under a structure that was literally a 20' x 10' tin roof with a few horizontal boards nailed up as "walls". There were only a handful of people gathered together there.

Half-way through the service, as we were singing, the bottom fell out! It rained HARD! The structure was doing little to keep the rain out, and we all just kinda huddled together as far away from the permeable walls as we could. The whole time, no one stopped singing. As the rain on the tin roof reached deafening decibels, we just got louder and louder. It was so awesome!

Later in that service, as people walked up to the front in single file to place their offering at the alter, a lady walked all the way from the back, and placed a live chicken in the hands of the pastor. I was really taken aback.

The way faith is played out in different parts of the world will definitely look different. Although the money may have been tight that week, this lady still had the right heart.

I am so thankful to have the opportunity to be stretched in my own faith. To realize that I'm not the expert or the police on worship or Christianity around the world. I still have so much to learn!

I'm sure when this Sunday rolls around, I will stare at my mosquito net once again and negotiate with myself. It's still not easy...

But, I am on a journey. And... I'm getting there.

I Love MALAWI This Much...

2008-01-01T11:32:00.000-08:00

This New Year's Day... I was able to see a whole new world!

A few friends and I took a day trip to the Zomba Plateau, which is a short drive from the city that I live in.

I didn't really know what to expect when we were planning this trip. I hadn't really heard much about the place. In my mind, when I hear the word "plateau", I think of Arizona or Mexico or something. Maybe that's just me. Although both of those places are fine and dandy, it wasn't really the picture of beauty that I was hoping for.

So... Today I arose at 5:30 AM (keep in mind this is New Years Day... the morning after New Year's Eve), and we took off. After regaining consciousness from such an early departure, I was happy to be there.

We started the morning off with a nice hike to a look-out. I was told that this would only be a short, hour and a half hike. So, I thought, "shoot, I don't need to bring any water or anything... all I need is my camera around my shoulder". And, so we went.

After walking for quite a ways and not seeing much progress in the way of elevation, I began to fret about my situation. It was obvious that this would be no hour and a half trek.

In fact, this would be a trek that would take all morning, roll over my precious lunch hour and swing us back to base at around 1:30 with blisters oozing from my feet and a pain with every move in my pelvic region that will only be solved by injecting some of my neighbor's morphine into my veins shortly before retiring to sweet dreams tonight (the reason my neighbor has morphine is a different story... he's legit, don't worry).

The trip was by no means a disaster that I regret though. It was actually quite the opposite.

This country just seems to be foaming out the mouth with hidden treasures that do none other than take your breath away.

So... enjoy some of the pictures I took from today. Let the amazingness of Malawi flood over your eyes!

This is a view from the top of the plateau...

WOW! Unbelievable... this picture doesn't do it justice at all.

**Mom... close your eyes...

This is a picture of me sitting on the edge of this sheer drop off that was completely covered in rolling clouds that just beat us to the cite... Bummer.

Without the clouds, you can see for miles and miles across Malawi. Oh well... just one more reason to go back to this place.

Here's another one from the same area. The fog gave the place this cool, eerie feeling.

This was up on top of the plateau as well. Just some random flowers on the side of the trail.

And this was super cool. It's a hole on the top of the plateau that you can't see the bottom of. Anyone wanna go repelling?!

Well... in case you aren't fully convinced yet that Malawi is one of the most breathtaking countries on planet earth... I guess I will just have to keep finding more places like this one to drive the point home!

Check out all the photos that I took on this trip here... (there's a lot!)

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things...

2007-12-30T06:02:00.000-08:00

Due to the fact that the last week has been incredibly uneventful, and I was racking my brain for the slightest thing to write about... I figured it may be nice for you to have a glimpse at the things that I think are rather nice.

So... without further adieu... I present to you: My Favorite Things (in no particular order)...

Alright... so I lied... of course Gloria (my camera) ranks at the very top of this list!

I'm not sure I would know what to do with my life without this beautiful beast. She is my right hand and completes my very being. Just kidding. But, seriously...

These are the essentials in my book!

From left to right, we have: Pineapple Sobo (it's a concentrate you mix with water), Cocopina (kinda tastes like a pina colada), Third World Coke (there's nothing like it!), Fanta Pineapple, and Orange Sobo.

Something about them being in glass bottles makes them seem more special to me... and they are!

Next up is definitely my vast supply of coffee that greets me with a smile each morning.

You'll recognize several of the bags (because my family loves me and encourages addictions). But, the middle two are Malawian originals. Malawian coffee isn't the best in the whole world, but I can definitely live with it.

Since coffee has a special place in my heart for the AM... my PM substitute is none other than the Malawian favorite, Chombe Tea (hot, not cold).

It's actually pretty good stuff. I enjoy having a cup just after dinner, while I am winding down with a book or show or something.

And... since hot tea drinking was becoming a larger part of my life, I figured it was time to get a tea pot and some cups. So... Sara and I painted these while she was here... and they are my pride and joy when company comes to visit!

You may be wondering what "shows" I was referring to with the tea sipping...

My Name Is Earl is a rather constant companion of mine.

Don't you judge me!!

In my opinion, this is the funniest show ever made. I could watch it every day of my life. Luckily, with only two seasons out on DVD, that didn't last too long.

But, I think if my house were burning down, I would grab 3 things: my Bible, my camera, and My Name Is Earl.

As of Christmas though, Earl has had a buddy to sit with him on the shelf...

The Planet Earth Series by the BBC is one of the most amazing things I have ever seen!

I am only about 3 episodes in so far, but... WOW!

One of the coolest parts is actually being in the place where some of these things were filmed. The episode on Fresh Water has a part on Lake Malawi. It was really neat to watch that and know that I have seen these things first hand.

If you need to be reminded how extreme our God is... go get a copy of this collection!

Another essential these days is my trusty little fan. Although over the last few weeks, seeing as it has rained every single day, she hasn't been spreading her wings as much.

But, there are definitely days that I could absolutely not go on without her.

On that note... a new addition to the things that I carry around with me on a daily basis are these nice handkerchiefs. Although not so much here in Blantyre, they are definitely needed when I go down to the sweltering villages in the south.

And... usually they are dripping by the end of the day.

Bao...

Bao is my buddy. This game is a lot of fun to play with friends. Since I'm pretty much the Bao champion of the world, I like it because I always win!

But... it's fun to let other people try to beat me (Sara, Cynthia, Margs, ect.).

Considering, every morning I wake up and see a marching line of ants, going single file through every single thing on my counter (bread, sugar, veggies, ect.), I try my hardest to keep them at bay.

This was one of my first purchases in Malawi. I would love to tell you that it does a good job preventing ants from coming in my house... but, I can only vouch for what it does once they're already there.

Let's just say that you wouldn't want to be an ant in my house...

Lentils.

We don't really eat lentils in my neck of the woods in deep east Texas. But, they aren't bad at all. Cook em up and serve them over rice, and it makes a pleasant, quick meal... although there usually isn't meat involved... which is highly un-Texan.

And... last, but certainly not least... Milk in a box... that doesn't require refrigeration.

It is truly bigger than sliced bread.

This bad boy will last for like 6 months in my pantry, waiting for me to get a craving for milk. Then, once opened, you just put it in the frig and drink it over the week, and you're good.

The concept is great!

The taste, however, has yet to steal my heart.

After the first week of being in Malawi, I gave up on trying to eat cereal. It's just not right. But, it's great in coffee or oatmeal or hot chocolate. So... I won't complain.

Welp... that's that. I hope you enjoyed your tour through my Malawian life.

My Favorite Malawian Christmas Memory!

2007-12-25T11:42:00.000-08:00

Whatever sadness that was possibly in me for being thousands of miles away from my family this Christmas quickly vanished at the sight of this...

Santa first appeared to me in Blantyre as I was sitting in church Christmas morning, completely tuned out of the Chichewa sermon that I didn't understand a word of. All of the sudden, I looked out the window to see a nice big garbage truck driving in the drive way with one of these guys on the back.

I quite nearly lost it. I had to put my Bible infront of my face so as to not embarrass myself from laughing in the middle of the sermon. It was to much!

Then a few hours later, I'm sitting in my house, and Santa shows his face once again!

Apparently, the garbage pick-up guys aren't scheduled to work on Christmas (understandable)... but, they made their rounds anyway... requesting a small donation from you for working on Christmas... dressed like that!

I think that no matter how hard it gets for me in life... I will always be able to pull this picture back up in my mind and know that everything is going to be OK.

Hilarious!

Merry Christmas... I think...

Thoughts on Christ (and his birth)

2007-12-20T10:37:00.000-08:00

God with us...

Living among us...

Dwelling in us...

Wow... A reason to stop the world and celebrate!

To think that the Ruler, King, Creator of the entire universe would wrap himself in human skin and plant himself among the poorest people is pretty hard to grasp.

I love Christmas.

This year is definitely different though.

I've tried everything I know how to make things feel a little more like "the Season"... but, nothing seems to work. I was beginning to get a little alarmed that it is now merely days before Christmas, and it still feels like any other day.

Any other year, I would have fully immersed myself in Christmas by now, but not this year.

In an attempt to revive my thoughts of glad tidings and great joy, I have gone to extremes...

I keep cycling through the handful of Christmas songs on my computer.

The other night, I found a recipe for eggnog and made me a glass.

It was good, but it didn't do the trick.

Something about drinking eggnog while sitting perfectly still with sweat dripping down your brow isn't right.

All that to say that I'm really thankful for this Christmas.

For the first time in my entire 23 years of existence, I have been able to almost completely miss out on the commercialization of the birth of Christ.

Yeah... I still have a small tree (which mesmerizes me with its flashing fiberoptic lights), and I am still going to open a few gifts on Christmas morning from my family.

But, on the quiet nights alone that I've had over the last week that weren't packed with concerts, candlelight services and Christmas lights contests... I've been able to reflect on those simple words...

God. With. Us.

Thinking about what that truly means in every aspect of my life.

How different things are now... since that cold night that God stepped into a bucket of itchy hay in the Middle East.

I am overwhelmed when I think about the comfort and peace I have knowing that with any worry that comes to my mind, I know that God is with us. He is with me.

God became personal.

It wasn't a silent night at all. It was raw and real.

It was the reality that we live in such a broken world that even the One that came to redeem it was born into a society of oppression. In his first breath on earth, he was shoved into a shelter for animals.

God with us meant that rather than seeing oppression and sin and brokenness from the point of view of a wealthy king, feasting in his palace with other wealthy comrades... or reading and writing about all the problems there are in the world he created... or even throwing money or resources at our problems... He planted himself smack dab in the middle of them and experienced every last one.

There was nothing about him that looked like anything special. There was no reason for us to even give him a second glance.

He was the kind of guy that was cussed at and ridiculed around town. He knew all about sadness and suffering... first hand.

Like the kind of guy that we look down and avoid eye contact with when we're in the wrong part of town, we thought he was worthless.

But... all the crap that we do, but don't like to talk about because we're too prideful... he claimed it as his own. Yet even still, we failed to see any worth in this man. He was just a nuisance.

Eventually, they put a knife in his side and killed him because of all that crap that we really did.

We were given PEACE all because he took our punishment.

Those knife wounds were the very things that healed our screwed up lives!

Even still... like stupid animals, we try to do our own thing. We run the opposite way than we're supposed to. But, rather than punishing us, that man took it on himself.

If ever there was someone that was oppressed, it was him. However, he never complained about it. Even when they were killing him, he didn't demand his own rights. He was silent.

The very things that he came to free us from, oppression and judgment, were what took him in the end.

All of that for us.

~Isaiah 53 (paraphrase mine)

It wasn't a silent night. There weren't presents or candles or red sweaters with decorated trees on them done in puff paint.

It was simple.

Raw.

Real.

He had a purpose.

In order to free the most screwed up, messed up, broken of us... it couldn't be done with all the bells and whistles.

He became like us...

Knowing what it's like to go hungry...

... feel the stares of the people that thought they were better than him...

... be wrongly accused of something done in innocence...

... try to serve people, but get the shaft in the end...

... fight for the cause of justice, but in the end, get killed as a result of the lack there of.

Yeah... God. With. Us.

We're pretty lucky when you think of it like that.

Strip all the bells, tinsel, lights, music, gifts, family, friends, eggnog and cookies away. There is still an enormous reason to celebrate... wouldn't you say?

Backyard Treasures...

2007-12-20T03:11:00.000-08:00

I looked out my window and saw the kids playing in the backyard, staring intently at something on the ground. My first hunch was that it was a snake. In the last few days, we have found 2 Black Mambas (one of the world's deadliest snakes) around the place.

So... I went out to check on things and found these amazing looking creatures. In true Ryan fashion, I didn't stay long to stare before running back in the house to grab my camera!

You can see how extremely big they were in comparison to my sandal...

Where Have I Been?!?

2007-12-19T07:40:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here wishing the wings on Sara's airplane would have fallen off right before she got on.

I just dropped her off at the airport a few hours ago, because she has been here visiting me for the last 2 weeks. This is the reason I haven't really posted much in that time.

We had such an amazing time together, and we were both so thankful that God made her a way to come and see what I am experiencing with not just her ears on the phone, but with her eyes in person.

We packed the time full with stuff to give her the full Malawian experience as much as you can in 2 weeks. I was lucky in that I was able to take a little time off of work and travel a bit, and she was able to do some of the work along side me as well.

Here's a brief rundown of what's been happening in my life for the last 2 weeks...

First crack out of the bag, we got all dressed up and went to a birthday party for a Malawian friend of mine. It was a really fun time to see a different side of Malawian culture that rarely gets publicity. I think Sara was a bit afraid that she wasn't going to experience anything truly "Malawian" in her stay here after this party... it was quite a snapshot from the West.

The next morning, we took a little day trip to the tallest mountain between South Africa and Kenya or somewhere, Mount Mulanje. It was so incredible! The hour long drive to the mountain from where I live is one of the most beautiful drives in Malawi. You drive right through the area of Malawi where all the tea plantations are. Considering we are now in rainy season, there were rolling hills for miles with some of the most beautiful lush crops you could imagine.

While at the mountain, we hiked up to this really nice waterfall and I decided I would jump in the really cold water and swim around a bit. It was quite invigorating!

Later that week, I arranged for Sara to go out with me and one of the Malawian guys that I work with to one of the villages in the south of Malawi where we do Home-Based Care. This village is way in the middle of nowhere along the Mozambique border.

The drive down to that part of the country is one of my favorites though. Coming out of the mountains where I live, you get some of the most incredible views!

After driving for a few hours, I suddenly noticed a strong hissing noise coming from behind me... so, I brought the Pajero to a quick stop and realized that not 1, but BOTH, of the back tires had simultaneously exhaled on me!

At this point, I knew we were going to be in for an interesting two days! After several hours of sitting in the car playing card games while someone goes to the nearest village on foot to fix one of our tires, we were on our way.

Sara was definitely able to get a taste of village life on this trip. It was also really good for her to be able to see some of what I am doing around here. She was able to go around with our amazing volunteers and visit with patients that we see weekly.

But... I think we were both ready to get back to running water and good cooking!

With only about a day of rest from traveling, we loaded up the truck once more with two other friends and headed to Lake Malawi!

The lake is so beautiful!

We spent two nights camping on the beach at a place that makes pottery. So, when we weren't swimming or reading on the beach, we were in the workshop painting our own pottery!

This trip allowed us to see a lot of the country as we drove to the lake as well.

Between all the side trips, we spent plenty of time sitting around and talking about the deep things of life and just enjoying each others company.

It was really sad to have to sit on the roof of the airport and watch her plane fly up, up and away from me. But, I am really happy that we were able to do so much while she was here.

I know that she was able to learn so much while she was here, and it really helped me to have someone to bounce my thoughts off of about everything that I am experiencing.

I will miss you!

Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree!

2007-12-13T11:29:00.000-08:00

,

Christmas has just vomited all over my living room!!

AND I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This afternoon I drove home to see two beautiful boxes waiting on the porch for me to tear into them. I was really thrilled.

I opened them to find a complete supply of everything that I would need to enjoy Christmas the all-American way.

The packages came from some ladies that I haven't even met before from St. Elizabeth Hospital... but, they definitely know how to be a blessing!

Wow... I am without words...

A huge, heart-felt hug goes out to you ladies from Malawi!

In combination with the plethora of items that my mom sent with Sara to make my Malawian Christmas one that I won't forget, my living room now looks like a department store the day after Thanksgiving!... and my pantry is stocked to see me through the "winter".

Just know that this white boy is showing his big white teeth right now!

Ndikuphunzira Chichewa...

2007-12-03T22:58:00.001-08:00

Muli Bwanji?
How Are You?

Well... my language learning is coming along quite nicely.

I finally got a language helper that I meet with once or twice a week for an hour or so. He is a great guy from the church that I go to here.

I am building up my vocabulary little by little.

One of the best things I did for myself was labeling my entire house in Chichewa (as seen in the picture above)!

So now, every time I use the restroom, I stand there and repeat the word aloud until I'm done. Let's just say that I know the word "Chimbudzi" better than any of the others!

But, I've also labeled most of my food items. So, while I'm cooking at night, it's a nice little Chichewa lesson.

In a lot of ways, the language is much easier to learn than English is. However, there are a few things that make for substantial stumbling blocks.

Overall though, I am making progress... and people are noticing!!

Every once in a while, I will whip out some phrase that I know and shock people.

However, the other day, I was getting a little too comfortable with myself when I was walking through my yard. I walked past this little girl...

Rachel...

She lives on our property... so, she was no stranger.

But, she was wearing this really nice little dress... and I wanted to be a nice good male figure in her life and tell her that I thought her dress looked pretty.

So, without hesitation, I said...

Ndikufuna delesi.

Immediately I knew that the wires didn't cross right in my brain... my mouth did not communicate what my English brain meant to say.

I said: "I WANT your dress."

I stood there for a second kinda stunned, while she was just staring at me like I was some mixed up, cross-dressing, white man. The bad part was that my mind was blank as to how I could correct myself.

So... In a really awkward, Ryan manner, I just fumbled around and said, "No" and walked off.

I felt like a complete idiot.

So... I guess what I'm saying is that I have got to the point where I have just enough language expertise to make a fool out of myself.

25 Cents...

2007-12-01T03:07:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been questioning the definitions that I find of the word: Poverty

As of yet, I haven't been able to find one that satisfies what I am seeing with my eyes... or feeling in my heart.

It's not that these definitions are wrong or completely off base...

I just feel like they are only dealing with surface level issues... the issues that we in the West don't seem to struggle with all that much.

We want so bad to be able to quantify poverty, when it is much more of a qualitative concept. Meaning... we want to be able to draw a line with a dollar sign because it's easy. We don't want to recognize that poverty portrays itself on all sorts levels.

We rarely like to talk about the poverty that exists in the beautifully landscaped suburbs in western countries. The kind of poverty that removes front porches from houses and places them behind the house and behind a tall wood fence, forsaking the community and relationships around them.

Forget about the poverty that keeps men at their work places until late hours of the night while their wife is taking care of 4 kids at home by herself.

What about the poverty that comes when we loose sight of the fact that when we hold on to our money too tight, we loose so much more in life.

The poverty found in selfishness...

The poverty found in possessions...

Poverty has many faces... that's for sure.

Each of us, in some area of our lives, are impoverished.

A few nights ago, I made a few cups of tea and walked out my front door for a nice chat with my friend Jackson who looks after our property during the night. We talked for a long while about all sorts of things. Mainly, comparing things in Malawi to things in the States. He was really curious about all sorts of things... from eating goats to how old people are when they get married.

We began talking about how much money it costs to live in America for 1 day.

Although it's really hard to come up with a hard-fast answer to that question, I took a figure out of the sky that sounded about right for a middle-class American.

$20-30

I feel like I shot pretty low.

Most college students that I know spend more than that on coffee and fast food alone in a day.

He was pretty blown away.

So, I decided to pry a bit. I asked him how much his family of 5 lives on in a month.

7,000MK = $50.00

At first that figure is a little hard to process...

I pulled out my handy-dandy cellphone with a calculator in it to make it easier for me to understand.

We went through it step by step together...

First, we pulled off 1,200MK for rent each month.

Then, divided that number by 5.

Divided that number by 30 (days in a month).

Then, converted that to USD (divided by 140).

I nearly dropped my phone when the number came up...

25 cents.

Each person in his family on lives on 25 cents a day. We proceeded to talk about how hard it is to buy clothes for children on that amount of money. There is never money left over for luxuries. They never eat meat or chicken. Each day, their diet consists of nsima (flour/water mixture) and a small portion of over-cooked, nutrient deficient vegetables.

No bread...

No tea...

Palibe (nothing)!

Meanwhile, I spend the next day making a meal that was literally the direct opposite of their diet... CHILI. A meal that is solid beef!

As hopeless as that story may sound... I stood there next to Jackson and encouraged him that his riches far surpass millions of people in the West.

Yes... he is rather short on cash.

Yes... that does translate to a life that leaves you constrained.

But, I'm telling you... you should see this guy smile!

He is such a hard worker. I have never seen him in a bad mood. He is not tied down by a house full of possessions and credit card debt that is eating at his insides night after night.

Last week, I met a guy that challenged me in some incredible ways. He is a missionary from South Africa working here in Malawi... but, doing things way different.

One of the many things that he challenged me to think about was the thought that every sentiment of "poverty" that people feel here in Malawi about themselves was imported here from the West. It wasn't until someone came in and told a lady in a village that she lived in poverty because she lacks a gas stove that she felt impoverished.

Yes... we all deserve to have access to some basic necessities of life. But, who left all the Westerners in charge of deciding which things were more noble... riches or relationships.

Yes... poverty is real. It's real all over the world. We need to address it in Malawi... but, we also need to look in a mirror at our own lives and examine the things that impoverish each of us.

2007-11-29T07:56:00.000-08:00

Click here to test your knowledge on HIV/AIDS...

Love Is In the Air...

2007-11-25T10:02:00.000-08:00

Love is in the air in Blantyre...

Of course I'm not referring to myself!

This weekend, I had the extreme honor of being the Best Man in my friend, Kondwani's wedding.

So... throw all your preconceived ideas about a wedding out of your head and travel on this excited journey with me!

The day started out bright and early for me on a hot Saturday morning at 5:30. As much as waking up that early is like a quick slit to my neck usually, I was so excited about the day that I woke up with no problem, and was ready for all that the day had in store for me.

I've heard so many stories about what to expect and stuff... but, honestly in order to really know what I had gotten in to, I just had to do it.

I realized early in the morning that I had better just throw my watch to the side, because it would be pointless. We had strict instructions to be there NO LATER than 7:00 am. Well... I sat on my porch waiting for my ride at 7:15 am, with a 30 minute drive to the church ahead of us. I was getting all worried and stuff... but, it was no big deal. In fact, we went out of our way to pick up the groom's grandparents before we ever made it to the church.

After spending the morning with the groom and other groomsman in a nearby house, getting interviewed and deciding what our wardrobe would actually look like for the day, we headed down to the church a few minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to start (which was 9:00 am).

At about half past 9:00, the bride and rest of the wedding party came bee-bopping up to the church, and within another 15 minutes or so, the music started thumping, and the party had started!

Malawian weddings are the bomb!!

There's none of this marching solemnly down the aisle to music whining from a pipe organ. OH, NO!... We quite literally danced down the aisle to some gospel/R&B/African music with the base maxed out and the speakers about to pop! It was this white boy's dream come true!

I had spent the last 3 days in rehearsal perfecting my dance steps that I would have to perform in front of an excited crowd of people I didn't know. When I rounded the corner of the door that I was hiding behind, and started my jig, everyone started yelling.

It was KRUNK!

Now... as the "Best Man" in a Malawian wedding, I pretty much just had one responsibility: Whipping sweat from the grooms head.

No lie...

It was definitely needed too. We were wearing really thick suits, and the temperatures were just above 100*F most of the day. I think I sweated off about a gallon or more of sweat throughout the day. By the end of the night, by hankerchief, along with my suit, was ready to be wrung out like a dish cloth!

So... throughout the ceremony, it didn't matter what important thing was happening, I would stand up in front of everyone and dab the beads of sweat from my dear friend's head. It was one of the most awkward things to me... but, completely expected from everyone else.

After about an hour and a half of sitting in a small, hot church building, the first scene was complete. And, once again, we danced out of the church the same way we danced in.

After the wedding, traditionally, everyone in the wedding party hops in a train of cars and literally parades around town, honking (hooting) their horns (hooters) for everyone to know they are married and celebrate with them.

After that, we were already getting a little worn out. So, it was rest time. The wedding party ended up at a relative's house for some traditional Malawian cuisine. We sat there for a few hours eating and waiting for the newly weds to receive some quick counseling from some experienced people... even though the reception was scheduled to start an hour earlier. No rush though... it's Malawi!

Well... if you thought that the ceremony was happenin', you soon realized that it was more like a funeral compared to the reception. I haven't been to a party like this back home!

The hall was packed with a few hundred people waiting for us to dance down the center aisle once again. This time, however, our dance steps were a little more scandalous!

I'll just go ahead and hand in my resignation now...

Once we were in our proper places on the front stage, the action started.

For the next 3 hours or so, non-stop streams of people danced to the front of the place and threw a constant flow of money at the bride and groom! I really think that we should do this in the States!! Or at least do it at my wedding...

Different groups of people would be called out over the overly amped sound system that was thumping with the latest tunes, and you would dance to the front with your pockets full of Kwacha.

One of the coolest things was watching people that don't have a whole lot of money to be throwing around, dance up to the front with the biggest smiles on their faces and throw their money with utmost joy! There wasn't a person in the place that wasn't gettin' down with it.

Meanwhile, I sat on the stage with the rest of the sharply dressed wedding party, occasionally getting up to move my hips a bit (much less frequently than I would have liked)!

Then at about half passed five, the party began to wrap up, us dancers danced our last dance out the door, and I hopped in the car heading back to my place with a huge smile on my face, and an amazing experience that I will remember for a lifetime!

These boys are my new best friends...

Special note: I had several comments from Malawians that I was the best Azungu (white boy) dancer they had ever seen! I should figure out a way to work that into a resume somehow...

If you want to see more pictures from the wedding, click here!

Zamathokozo (Thanksgiving)

2007-11-18T04:43:00.000-08:00

Celebrating Thanksgiving in this setting is going to be an experience that I won't forget.

I know they are chickens... but it's the closest I'm gonna get!!

Of course, they don't celebrate this wonderful holiday in Malawi (or anywhere else in the world on the day that we do... just in case no one has told you that yet. I was pretty old before I knew that, so don't feel bad).

Maybe this year I will actually stop and take this special Thursday seriously.

Each year for me, the "thankfulness" aspect is always a little overshadowed by the super abundance of food (which I would love to wrap my mouth around right now). But, it seems like the majority of us kind of loose sight of what it's about. It's sadder still that most of us fail to be thankful every other day of the year for the amazing blessings we enjoy every hour of every day.

This year, I'm thankful for...

My Education...
This is something that I think every person in the West takes for granted. It's sad that because we are so sheltered from the rest of the world, we fail to see what an incredible thing it is to have an abundance of education literally at our finger tips. We are without excuse.

My heart breaks each time I talk to someone here that would give anything to be able to get a secondary school education. I don't think I ever realized how enabling an education is for someone... and how disabling the lack of can be.

I'm not sure why God chose to bless me the way He has with this, but for that, I am Thankful!

My Family, Friends and Supporters back home...
I have been blessed more in the last few months of my life than I have in a long time by people back home. From letters of encouragement, to care packages, to stories about how my experiences are effecting people around the world... I have been blessed! It is amazing to see how God can work in such amazing ways.

The Simple Things in life...
I'm thankful for things like Silence. For knowing what it feels like to go to bed in a village as soon as the sun goes down, because there is just nothing else to do once the light is below the horizon... and then waking up as soon as that light comes back up on the other side of the earth.

For showers from a bucket at 5:30 a.m. that wash all the sweat and dirt from the previous night away through the transparent reed walls that surround me.

For sitting around the porch with friends watching the rain flood our yard (and house in my case) on cold afternoons.

For learning how to cook from scratch all by myself... and after spending a few hours over the stove, to sit down and enjoy a meal in the solitude of my living room.

My Health...
While watching countless numbers of people wasting away in front of me... coughing uncontrollably... hungry... in pain... you realize really quick how fortunate you are to wake up each morning with a clean bill of health.

Even more... I have been here for 2-1/2 months, and have yet to have as much as a little stomach virus! That is just way more than a blessing!

Food Security...
I'm thankful that even here, I have all the food that I could ever need. I have never lived a day of my life in want of food.

I'm also thankful for food variety. I never realized how much of a blessing it is to grow up with the ability to taste foods from all over the world. The majority of people around the world eat the same "staple food" day in and day out, every day of their lives. It is a foreign concept to think about eating something different every day of the week.

Communications...
I'm thankful that with the click of a mouse or the ring of a phone, I can be in contact with the people I love in an instant! Just a few years ago, this wasn't possible for people moving to a place like Malawi. It definitely makes life much better when you are away from people for so long.

So... this year, I want to actually be thankful to the One that supplies me with more than I could ever imagine. I want to recognize not only the big things, but the little ones as well. I want to give glory and honor where it's due.

So, I take time to just sit back and remember and laugh and praise God for being so good!

It is well
Moyowo
With my soul
Ngwabwino
It is well, it is well with my soul!
Moyo wango ulitu bwino!

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Language & Adaptation...

2007-11-15T10:34:00.000-08:00

Perhaps I'm a bit of a pushover... I don't know. But, it seems like every since I have arrived here, I have been trying my hardest to try and speak like people I am around.

It happens with everyone...

To the Canadians I say "Ehh?" and "Sorry" (vs. Saarrrry in Texan)

To the Brits I say things like "torch" (vs. flashlight) and try really hard to speed up my speaking so I don't sound "too slow".

To the Germans I try to change my voice inflection a little... but, who am I kidding, I probably sound like an elephant to them!

I have managed to convince a good number of people that I am from anywhere except America.

But, through my strivings to be someone else, I find myself longing to just scream things in Texan!

The other day, I slipped up and said the unthinkable...

Y'all.

My friends just kinda looked at me and laughed.

But, I miss my Southeast Texan drawl.

I miss mumbling "Dad gum it!" when my diced tomatoes fall on the floor, or when I don't push down the clutch far enough before I try and shift.

But, I've noticed something...

I seem to be the only one conforming.

I have yet to notice anyone willfully trying to slur every word out to its maximum length in order to sound like they are from Mississippi (sarrryy).

Everyone else just talks like they normally do, and hope that people figure it out.

It is funny, however, how messed up our language really is.

You don't really notice it until you have to try and explain it to someone that is learning...

Meet Jackson.

Jackson makes sure that no one climbs over our wall at night and tries to steal everything I own. More importantly, Jackson is a good friend.

He's trying to improve his English a little, so I got Mom to send him a nice, compact English dictionary. He absolutely loved it! The next night when he came back, he was carrying it along with his Bible as nighttime reading material, and he had made a nice little book cover in order to protect it.

I was visiting with Jackson tonight, and we pretty much just talked about words in the dictionary... not much unlike a standard Thursday night in a college town.

He asked me several words that I figured were pretty standard for me, but I just didn't really know how to explain them. Here I am... a fresh college graduate... unable to explain basic English principles to someone else!

All I gotta say is that I am darn sure glad that I was born speakin' Texan... cuz there ain't no way I'd be able to explain it to no one else.

So... next time you get frustrated with someone that looks at you funny in the checkout line because whatever is coming out of your mouth isn't quite registering upstairs... be patient. Most of the time, we aren't even saying it right to begin with.

"Rain falls... Angry on the tin roof..."

2007-11-10T13:02:00.003-08:00

Ahh... the sound of tiny pellets from the sky, falling on the shiny metal affixed above my head.

It's finally Rainy Season.

If you have never had the chance to sit under a tin roof while it is raining, then I don't think you have fully discovered a part of your soul (OK... that's a bit overstated. I don't want you city folk to get upset with me).

Seriously... I think that it would be a great idea to make tin umbrellas. That way, no matter where you are when it starts raining, you can experience the therapeutic melodies of rain and metal. I guess the only issue would be lightening, ehh?

Right now, I feel like I just ate an ice cream cone on a hot summer day that ended up covering more of my body than actually going into my mouth. You know the feeling...

You don't want any part of your body to touch another part because they just stick together. So, you lay in bed in "anatomical position" in order to minimize the amount of sticky surfaces that will be touching each other.

Humidity... UGH!

But, there's something about the sound of those little drops on that tin roof that just make that uncomfortableness float toward the back of your consciousness.

There's something about the rhythmic feel of rain that just lets you know life will go on.

It forces your mind to stop for a second and bathe in the simplicity of the moment.

One of the things that I absolutely love about Malawi is the lack of "noise". I probably shouldn't say "lack of"... there are definitely "noises", but they are noises that I am unfamiliar with.

When I sit in my apartment in the States, I hear the constant hum of the appliances that are turned on. Stop right now and just listen............ I bet you can hear the refrigerator. Depending on how many moderately clean pairs of pants are left in my closet, I may hear the cycles of the washer. Water on... Water off... Spin on... Spin off... Repeat. Then there is the tumble of the dryer that sends the sounds of those loose pennies that you forgot to take out of your pocket, clinging and clanging through the house. The A/C is usually a constant companion when we are alone in a house. If no one is talking to you, the A/C is always there to keep your mind occupied (at least in Texas).

Now... the previous example is someone that is living "simply" and trying not to clog their mind with too much. For the rest of us... there are the conversations that are mumbling back and forth in the background coming from our TV. You probably have some music playing somewhere within a 20 foot radius of your self... and if you are a hip teen, it will probably be playing within a millimeter radius of your ear drum.

We hear the cars drive by, honking at whoever did whatever to them.

And in most cases, you're not just hearing all that stuff from your house, but you're probably hearing it from both of your neighbors as well.

It makes it a little difficult to detect those tiny drops that are repeating a rhythm that is ancient.

One of those things that when you sit and listen, you know that it is the same sound that your great-great-great-grandpa was listening to when he was sipping on coffee during the evening showers on the farm. I'm hearing the same sounds in a village in Malawi as I do when I'm sitting in west Texas, staring at the vast Texas plains.

Rain represents so much here.

People are so dependent on the rain.

If the rains are late, or fail to come all together, it can spell death and starvation for many people.

Unlike what we're familiar with in the States, rains are extremely cyclical and tend to be really precise.

From around May until November, Rain just goes away. The place is abandoned. Gradually, everything begins to dry up. Little by little, things become tense. The ground sucks up the last bit of water... the creeks become parched... dust begins to rise and clog everyone's nose.

Then one magical day in November or so, you hear a rumbling in the distance. Could it really be true? It seems like there are a few days of tease. You hear the thunder, you see the sky light up, but nothing.

Everybody waits in anticipation. When will I be walking down the sidewalk and feel that moisture skim my hair and freak out thinking a bird just pooed on me?

Then, as if God Himself were looking straight down on you at that very moment, the drops begin to fall. One by one. Steady. Pacing. Until a momentum gathers that cannot be halted.

People scurry around like ants after a punk little boy sticks his King Kong foot into their home. For a brief moment, everyone just kinda stops to acknowledge.

I was talking with a Malawian man as we looked into the distance at a dark cloud hovering over a section of land, resembling a giant water pail. You could just see the sheets of rain falling towards the earth. His comment was: "They're being Blessed today."

I feel blessed today...

Rain comes in such a way that it forces you to cease what you were doing and recognize it...

Plans get canceled that previously seemed so important...

People that are working outside, put down their tools and take cover...

We rest.

We wait.

We think.

Just like the parched earth that months of dry weather produces here in Malawi... my soul gets the same way.

All the sudden, I get antsy. I get tired. I get restless. I know there has to be something more. I begin to feel like my life is just out of rhythm. Not in sync with what God intended.

Then the Rain comes...

I find that rhythm all over again.

I remember anew the importance of... resting... waiting... thinking.

The beautiful part of being in Malawi, is the absence of the other "noises". Right now, all I can hear is "pitter-patter", crickets chirping, and my fingers hitting my keyboard. Nothing else!

The great thing is... this is just the beginning! The rainy season will last for the next several months. A wonderful, predictable cycle of water falling from the sky and causing me to recall things of old. Things that I don't choose to think about on a regular basis. The Rhythm of life.

So... I look forward to what God is going to teach me over the next few months.

I say "Boooo" to the man that wrote the song: "Rain, rain go away... Come again some other day." That song is just lame anyway...

Apparently he never set foot in Africa...

**50 Malawian Kwacha goes to the person that can tell me what song I got the title of this post from**

A Glimpse of Hope...

2007-11-07T05:05:00.001-08:00

This is the infamous paper that can change your life forever. One simple word, stamped in blood red, signifies a long, rough road ahead.

For the last few weeks, I have been working at an AIDS clinic called Partners In Hope (PIH).

PIH was started by a missionary doctor from California, when he began to realize that you cannot practice medicine in any form in Malawi while turning a blind eye to the reality of HIV/AIDS.

While working there, I was exposed to things that I never would have dreamed I would see in my life. It wasn't until this experience that I began to understand the depth of the AIDS Crisis a little better.

While sitting in exam rooms with a doctor, watching patient after patient sit before me, I realized how many people are really infected with HIV. Many people, because of the scale up of Antiretroviral (ARV) Therapy, looked rather healthy. If I were to see them walking around town, I probably wouldn't guess that they were HIV+. However, I saw countless people that did not look so good.

On my first day, a man that was about 30+ years old walked in. He was wearing rather baggy clothes, but he didn't look too horrible. His CD4 count was really low... meaning, he is extremely susceptible to other infections. But, when he lifted up his pants leg, I nearly fell out of my chair. He literally had close to no muscle around the bones on his leg. They were eaten up with Kaposi Sarcoma (a skin cancer caused by AIDS). Then, he lifted up his baggy shirt. The skin on his torso was sucked back under his rib-cage as if he were in a 5 year famine. Because of the lack of resources and ability to take care of himself, it was obvious that he would not be with us much longer.

A few days later, a mother walked into the exam room, carrying her 3 year old daughter, and a slip of paper that looked identical to the one at the top of this post. The little girl was wearing a nice white dress, and she was rather oblivious to what was going on.

Immediately, I just tuned out.

I just stared at this little girl.

I had a million things running through my mind during those few minutes while she was sitting in front of me.

Did she realize that for the rest of her life, she would be on very powerful drugs just to keep from dying?

I wonder how long those drugs will give her? Will she ever become a teenager?

What's going to happen when her friends realize she is HIV+... are they going to stop playing with her?

It was rather difficult for me.

I just sat there staring at her, and began to pray to God that He would watch after her. That He would grant this innocent girl grace.

The reality is... there are thousands of people that are just like this.

They walk for miles to get to a clinic... pick up one of these numbers... and sit in line. Waiting for a drug that will supposedly extend their life.

The great thing is... within the last 2 years, ARVs have been made free for everyone who qualifies to be on them. Before this, prognosis was simply death.

But even still... something is missing. There has to be something more than a pill that we can offer to people that have just been told they have a terminal illness. I know that when I look at a young mother that is holding on to her beautiful daughter, she is not just looking for that magic pill. She desperately wants more.

That's where the Hope factor comes in to play.

I believe it is so vital here in Malawi.

One of the Malawian guys that works at PIH had this sign in his office.

It is so true... In the West, we have very strict definitions of "poverty". To us, it's just a dollar sign. People here don't really see themselves as "impoverished". To them, poverty has little to do with money. But, when you loose hope... you are truly impoverished.

It has been an amazing thing to be working in a clinic that offers more than just a cold, scientific encounter with their patients. They are looking people in the eye and smiling. Letting them know that AIDS does not have to be the end.

The staff at PIH has also blessed and challenged me in many ways.

I see among them the leaders of this country. They are bright... optimistic... and committed to serving their neighbors.

This is one of the Clinical Officers...

I spent the majority of my time hanging out with these guys though...

They train peer educators that go out to the local schools and teach kids about HIV and Christ. They are a great bunch of people!

One day... I was out with the guy to my left. I asked him why he chose to be involved in this field. He went on to tell me about his story...

His uncle died of AIDS several years back. He lived in a rural village that had no clue about the disease. So... his uncle did not receive any treatment for HIV, and it wasn't long before he was gone. He saw what it put his family through. He said that he knew right then that he wanted to educate his fellow countrymen about the disease. He also felt that as a Christian, he needed to be serving those that were suffering around him.

He has such a great heart... and was really challenging towards me!

So... I leave here with a whole new perspective on things. A new understanding of what people are actually going through when they get this slip of paper.

I pray that the things I have seen will stick with me for the rest of my life. I pray that they will motivate me to keep going when things get hard. I pray that they would leave me with no other option than to thank God for every single blessing that He showers on me.

Confessions of a Western Missionary

2007-11-02T03:02:00.000-07:00

Go and Make ______?

2007-10-31T02:11:00.000-07:00

Warning: This post is pretty long… make sure that you have a little time to set aside to process through it

A lot of what I have been processing through lately has led me to some interesting conclusions.

Perhaps they aren’t conclusions at all… Maybe they are just more questions.

But, since I’ve been here, I’ve had to come to grips with the fact that there are a ton of people here doing development work. A TON!

Just about every single organization that I have talked with has a different take on development. What works best? What does a Christian development/mission agency look like? How can we make what we’re doing here sustainable after we leave?

Those are all very hard questions, with answers that are rarely black and white.

With all of the organizations and approaches that I have seen over the last few months, I have seen ones that are working great and ones that are doing a really crappy job.

So… I’m trying to figure out what I think about all this. More importantly, what God thinks about this? What does the Bible say regarding missions and development? So… trek with me on this little process of my thoughts.

Jesus gives us two clear commandments: GO and MAKE (Matthew 28:19)

Now… the question becomes… Where are we supposed to go? What are we supposed to make? Those are very important questions to have to right answers to, right?

It seems like we are pretty clear on the GO part of the commandment. We are all pretty sure that Jesus meant for us (the Body of Christ) to go to all nations. It seems like most churches have a pretty good grasp on that. Some are doing much better with it than others, but most Bible-believing churches feel that it is important to at least set aside some money to send people around the world.

However, things start getting really fuzzy when we get to the second part of the commandment. MAKE. What are we commanded to make?

Make money? … No.

Make babies? … No … although not a bad idea!

Make people happy? … No … although widely popular.

Make people not die as fast, and their bellies not stick out so far? … No … although it is a sad tragedy that this is the case in a world full of affluence like we live in.

Make converts to Christianity? … No … although many would disagree with me on that one.

We are commanded to do one thing...

MAKE DISCIPLES.

A disciple is not a convert. A disciple is not just a “Christian” like we have come to understand Christianity today.

A disciple looks a lot like Jesus… not just with their words, but with their entire life.

The reality is… the church has historically done a horrible job of making disciples.

There is a saying that says: “Christianity in Africa is a mile wide, but only an inch deep."

Although, I would have to say that I have met some really amazing followers of Jesus here in Malawi, there are thousands of people that claim to be “Christians”, but know nothing about it. That is of very little fault of their own. I believe that is because the Christianity that we have presented to people places very little value on discipleship. The Disciple-er will be accountable for that one.

OK… So, here is where I want you to follow my thought process. See, the more and more I follow after Jesus and try my hardest to live out His Word, the more I see how much it really is truth. For years, I accepted the Bible as “God’s Word”, but in reality, I really didn’t think it was all that applicable to our culture today. My thoughts always trumped the Bible. My culture always trumped the Bible. But, through experience, I am learning over and over again that as goofy as things in Scripture may seem when you read them, they really are truth… and they really do work!

Back to Malawi…

The reality is, there are problems on so many levels. It’s not just in this country… it’s that way in many developing countries.

There are problems like HIV/AIDS that affect a person and a family at the micro level… but, behind most of the individual problems, you will find a structural problem. These are at the macro level. The government. The cultural norms. Stuff like that.

So, as a missionary that is focusing most of your time on social issues, like helping people with AIDS, or trying to eradicate poverty, you spend your time trying to build things up from the bottom. You work with an individual to empower them, ect.

But, as a foreigner, I’m not allowed to vote. I shouldn’t be making structural changes in a society that is not my own… that needs to come from people within. So, in a way, my hands are tied. Yeah, I can bandage a wound and tell people that Jesus loves them, but I can’t do much that is lasting.

But, if we return to Scripture and heed Jesus’ call to make disciples, a lot of that will be taken care of from within.

A disciple will have a servant’s heart. A disciple will want to fight injustices in their society. A disciple will care for those around them that are suffering. A disciple will fight corruption.

You see where I’m going with this.

Here are the problems that I am seeing…

All of this aid money is flowing into developing countries from the West. However, when it crosses that big ocean, much of it gets filtered through a huge funnel of corruption and selfishness. There are stories all the time of high level officials that are caught using international aid funding for their personal gain. These officials get bigger houses and better cars, and there are still millions that are left starving and dying of preventable diseases in their countries. The problem there is lack of morals. Selfishness. The opposite of Jesus.

Many of the wealthy Malawians that I have met have come from a background of extreme poverty. They have worked their tails off to get out of that position. They have a nice place to live now, and their family is taken care of. But, somewhere in that jump from poverty to comfort, many people have lost their compassion for the poor. I think that many of us would do the exact same thing. Just like in the West, they have had the taste of money, and can't get enough.

I see it a lot even in the churches. Many churches are presenting this half-gospel that tells people that God wants everyone to become rich and “serve no man”. Why should we be surprised that that message is rampant in Africa, when it was born in the West. We have forgotten that the call of Christ is to become lowly. To serve. To sacrifice.

So… here’s my vision.

To see a group of Malawians catch the true heart of Christ.

Don’t get me wrong… there are Malawians that have a greater faith than I can imagine, and are serving their communities in powerful ways.

But, as I sit with a group of youth, who have just finished secondary school and are stepping up to become the new face of Malawi… I just desperately want them to catch the heart of Christ.

I would love to see them take their education… take their talents and gifts… and do things that foreign developmental agencies would never think of doing.

There is so much potential!

So… I think that Jesus was on to something when he just said for us to just “go and makes some disciples”.

Not… go cure all the world’s ills.

Just go and change the way people see the world around them. I mean… that’s basically what the gospel does when it truly penetrates our hearts right? It completely changes the way we think and the way we see.

So… what do you think? I want some thoughts about this. Help me process through this one… Am I being “narrow-minded”? … Where should Christians draw a line?

Seeing Things Through Dusty Eyes...

2007-10-25T03:02:00.000-07:00

I first noticed it while I was flying down a bumpy dirt road.

There was dust billowing behind our nice, "safari-style" SUV, so much so that you could barely see anything. But... that's the way it always is.

Now... one of the first things that you learn when you arrive in Malawi, is that roads are only "technically" for cars. There are far more pedestrians walking along the sides of the road than there are actual vehicles.

In the West, when we're driving down a dirt road and see so much as another vehicle, we suddenly slam on the breaks and settle into a mere stroll as we pass the other car. God forbid we expose each other to a bit of dust.

You see... in the West, dust is our enemy. We despise it. At least as far as this white boy is concerned, it better not stay on my skin for very long!

But, as I began to cringe as we stormed past countless people in our SUV, absolutely enveloping them in a cloud of dust that, from my perspective, would surely lead them to an early death from a clogged lung... I noticed something.

No one bats an eye. Or for that matter... no one closes their eyes!

It absolutely baffled me for weeks.

Everyone knows that if you do something like that in America, certain "fingers" would be flying up out of the dust, and certain words would be shouted in the general direction of your car.

But, things are just different here.

Although it took me a little while to figure it out, I'm finally beginning to realize that it seems like dirt is just not at the top of the list of priorities of many people here.

Now... don't misinterpret me. Africans are not just a bunch of dirty heathens, running around eating dirt for dinner. The last thing I want to do is portray that kind of image!

But... for me, it was key to understanding just a little bit more about this culture.

The fact is... in just about every situation, we see things completely different. Our priorities are almost always different.

In the West, we like to be clean. For just about everyone, that's pretty high on the list. We like, not only our bodies to be clean, but we like everything to be clean! Clothes... House (inside and out)... Cars (so everybody will know just how rich we are)... Kids... Pets... Streets... Heck, we even like our drainage ditches to be nice and clean!

You're getting the point right.

Don't get me wrong... I, too, am very particular about being clean! And I'm not saying that it's a bad thing.

But... that's just not the way things are around here. It's not that things couldn't be that way... it's just that people don't really seem to think it's that big of a deal.

I mean... they sweep the trash out of the dirt floors of the houses they live in and all... but at the end of the day, they aren't going to worry about being dirty when they hit the sack... and when I say "sack", I mean that quite literally! In the village, people sleep on no more than a mat that is made from reeds. Cushioning is a mere luxury.

Now... why in the world am I writing about dirt? Am I just trying to make the rest of the world think that Africans are dirty people that are just "primitive"?

Well... I want you to realize that culture is a very powerful thing! And for me... "dirt" was just the beginning of me noticing the differences of how we see things.

There are many things about the way that Malawians see the world that I wish I could ingrain in myself.

Priorities...

For Malawians... People are always priority! It doesn't matter what you were previously doing or are about to start doing... if someone comes over to your house, that plan suddenly doesn't exist anymore. Or it is at the very least, bumped back to a later time. It would just be unheard of for someone to come to you for a visit, and for you to say, "Oh sorry... I was just on my way to the market. You'll have to come back later."

People are always at the top of the list.

Respect is also enormous in this culture!

Everyone knows their place in society, and each person knows exactly how they should relate to others. No one breaks protocol. EVER! You would, under no circumstance, ever refer to an adult by their first name... even if you are an adult as well. Only children are referred to by their first names. That even goes for husband and wife relationships. You call each other Bambo (father or mister) or Mayi (mother or miss). That concept is just so far out of my realm of thought!

The elderly are absolutely revered in Malawi. You would never disrespect an elderly person or question their authority.

Visitors are also given the utmost respect and hospitality. You always bring out your best. Your best seat... your best food... your best time. This was something that was really hard for me at first. As a white visitor, I am placed right up there under God. The whole world stops when I come to visit someone in a village. These people have so very little, yet, they offer me their best. My first reaction is to always want to just reject it and play the lowly foreigner card. I always want to just sit on the ground next to all the ladies rather than in the comfortable chair they have set out for me. It's really hard for me to want to eat the food they prepare for me, when I know that their children aren't going to eat as much because I am there. However, for me to reject their hospitality would be so offensive. Because, they truly mean it. They aren't just going through the motions to save face. They are honored that you are there... always!

Another thing is time. Time is never an issue. Most people don't even know what time it actually is. It's either on the hour or half past the hour. You never get more specific than that. Things are not driven by time, they are driven by events. An event starts when everyone gets there, and it ends when everyone wants to go home. It really doesn't matter how long that takes. That even goes for things like weddings. Now in the West... that's probably one of the most "on time" things that we have. Two minutes before a wedding is supposed to start, the doors close and you better have a seat somewhere! Here... a wedding can be "scheduled" for 3:oo. The bride and groom and preacher probably wont even arrive at the church until 4:00, and the ceremony won't really get underway until around 5:00. No big deal... at the end of the day, they still got married!

Things are just different.

Not bad... just different.

I am reminded of it every time I see people just getting covered in dust without batting an eye, and I brush off my bottom each and every time I get up from sitting on the ground!

Back to Civilization!!

2007-10-24T06:18:00.000-07:00

Right now, I'm smiling as big as this guy!

I finally have the internet again!! Today is my birthday, and I couldn't ask for a better present (pretty sad huh?... I'm such an addict!).

For the last 2 weeks, I have been out in a small village, living with an older missionary couple. It was a really amazing time of learning about the culture and people of Malawi, because both of these people have been living in Malawi for all of their lives (60+ years). So, they definitely know the ropes.

I also was able to get away from the busyness of city life and focus in on some simpler things. When all your comforts get taken away from you (i.e. communication with other people), you really begin to see things within yourself. I got to spend a lot of time reading books about the Malawian culture and about the traditional religions of the Chewa people, and it has absolutely blown me away. It's almost too much to comprehend. However, it's really nice to get a grasp on some of these things finally.

Another reason for being in Salima (the village I was at) was to focus intensely on learning the language. I am getting much better at understanding people and actually saying a few things myself. This was becoming a huge frustration for me, so I am really determined to learn as much as I can.

And, while I was there, I was able to check out an orphan ministry that was really an amazing program. It really challenged me and was refreshing to see something that is really working well.

A few of the not so spiritual highlights of the trip were...

Eating goat intestines for the first time! It was right after sitting through nothing less than 5 hours worth of church on Sunday morning in the village. I'm all up for long church services and all... but this one was 100% in another language. And... the night before, I slept on the bed of a truck, under the stars with 2 Malawians that constantly were rolling over on top of me. So... I was just kind of ready to get back to the place where I was staying, take a shower and drink a Fanta.

Then... right after the service, the Abusa (pastor) came up to me and informed me that I would be eating in a "special house" over there with some of the other "important people". I knew exactly what that meant! The insides of the animals (goats, chickens, ect.) are considered a great delicacy around here, and they are only reserved for the honored guests. I was praying that they would not like me that much... but, turns out my skin color gave me away!

So... as we were blessing the food, this is honestly what I did. I just bowed my head and started laughing to myself. I said, "God... you are gonna have to make this taste like a nice filet mignon, some roasted potatoes, and some juicy veggies." And to my surprise, everything tasted quite edible. So... if you're ever offered some goat entrails in the future, go ahead and try some!

The other high point was being able to go to the lake for a Saturday morning. It was quite nice! I wish that a plane ticket wasn't so expensive, because I would definitely like to vacation there more often. It's just like being in the Caribbean except there is no salt! WONDERFUL!

Well... now I am in Lilongwe (the capital of Malawi). I will be here for the next few weeks, working with an AIDS clinic called Partners In Hope. I am really excited about all the things that I will be learning while I am here. I will be staying with a family from New Zealand (the Youngs... you can see their picture by scrolling down a ways)... so, I'm sure my accent will be quite tainted by the time I'm done here. New Zealanders have a crazy wild accent!

There is so much more that I want to write about... but this is a little thrown together in a rush. I will try to get my thoughts together and post some more in the near future.

For now, enjoy some of the pictures that I have taken in the last 2 weeks...

All Over the World... People Just Like Us...

2007-10-13T02:03:00.000-07:00

One of my very favorite things about being here in Malawi is that I work on an international team. This is also probably my favorite thing about SIM (the mission agency I am working with). SIM has 10 different sending agencies around the world! We are "intentionally international".

For some reason, in America, we seem to have this thought that we are the one's going around saving the world all by ourselves. That we are the missions hub. That everything "Christian" is born in the USA.

I have been so refreshingly surprised since I have been here! I have seen that the American way isn't always the best way of doing things... Shocking... I know! I work on a team that is comprised of 8 different nationalities. That's usually at least 8 different ways of looking at a situation.

It's challenging.

It's refining.

It's a beautiful picture of Christianity.

Some of the things that come out of my mouth are a bit foreign these days...

I say things like Tea instead of Dinner... You guys instead of y'all... Rubbish Bin instead of Trash Can.

I drink hot tea a good 2-3 times every day!

I have learned how to be hospitable. There is this cool understanding around here that pretty much any time someone walks in your house, you put on the kettle and offer them either tea or coffee or a cold drink. And it's not just some kind of polite offer that you don't expect to be taken up on... almost every time, you actually sit down, relax and share a drink with whoever it is. I love it!

So... I would like to introduce you to the chaps (my new Aussie word) that I have been running with these days...

The Richters
Hans-Joerg, Andrea, Philip, Telea, Liala and Elias

They are from Germany originally... now the reside about 10 yards from my front door! The four kids run in and out of my house with there little German accents on a very regular basis. Hans-Joerg is the administrator guy for SIM Malawi. He also oversees the medical clinics that we have in southern Malawi. Like any German... he knows how to get things done!

The Hammonds
Mike, Jackie, Joshua and Christopher

These are my Aussie buddies! Australians are a pretty fun group of people to be around ... and I love their accents!! Mike and Jackie are the project managers for the HOPE for AIDS part of SIM Malawi. So, they are pretty much my bosses. They're great though. They have such a heart for the people here in Malawi.

The Hannahs
Ryan, Heidi, Caleb, Ben and Faith

Ryan is the country director for SIM Malawi. So, he's the big dog around here. As if you couldn't tell from the photo... they're from the US. The four short-termers get to hang out with the Hannahs every Friday night for dinner and games. That's always a fun time!

The Fazakerlys
Megumi, Helen, Josh, Elizabeth and Mary

Megumi is an administrator at the Evangelical Bible College of Malawi. He is from Japan and Helen is from the UK (but grew up as a missionary kid here in Malawi). They live two doors down from me and are lots of fun!

The Youngs
Jim, Diane and kids

They live up in Lilongwe... so I haven't really got to hang out with them much apart from taking this photo! However, I will be heading to Lilongwe this month for about 3 weeks... so, I'm sure they will become new friends. They are from New Zealand. Jim is the Education (Sunday School) guy for the African Evangelical Church as a whole and Diane is a doctor in one of the clinics in Lilongwe.

Candy Getz

Candy is the Short-term Coordinator. So, she's the person that makes sure I have a water filter and place to lay my head down at night. She is from the US as well.

Cynthia Innes

Cynthia is from Canada. She is here for about the same time that I am doing communications stuff. So, basically her job is to let the rest of the world know what kinds of great things God is doing here in Malawi. What a cool job!! She has a blog too...

Margs Hall

Margs flew in the country the same day that I did. She is from New Zealand and is here for 2-1/2 months doing communications stuff as well. She claims to speak English... but half the words she uses I have to ask for a definition!!

SIM Malawi also has several other families that are part of our team. Some live in different parts of the country... they are all doing really great work here in Malawi, and I admire them so much.

Basically the point of this post is to shed some light on the fact that we aren't the only one's out there. There are people all over the world that share the same passion and vision that we do, even if they speak different language or eat their main meal in the middle of the day.

Another interesting note... SIM's Korean sending office is the fastest growing of all of the sending offices! They will soon be tailing the US office in the number of missionaries they are sending around the world... that's just awesome!

chirp chirp...chirp chirp...

2007-10-11T10:09:00.002-07:00

Have you ever eaten by yourself?

Well... that's a stupid question. We've all eaten by ourselves...

What I mean is, have you ever eaten all by yourself?

I mean, it was only a few short months ago when I was a lowly college student. I was really accustomed to eating by myself (well, until I learned the best kept secret in town... dinner at the Hendricks!). But, there were those few and far between nights when I would cook myself a nice meal and eat on the couch with no one else around.

It was OK though. See... back in college, I had this perfect system. I would start cooking at like 5:30 or 6:00... It was all about the TBS primetime! While I was cooking, I could watch Seinfeld, which really wasn't all that important to me, but it made for some good background noise. Then, usually by the time I was done in the kitchen, I would park it on the couch just in time to have dinner with my favorite dysfunctional family... the Barones... Everybody Loves Raymond baby!! Then, if I didn't have anything going on that night, I would just keep sitting for another hour or so and catch some Friends.

It was a really nice routine... not gonna lie!

But, that's not what I'm talking about...

I said have you ever eaten all by yourself...

Just you...

You and the food on your plate.

Well... I have now had that experience on quite a few occasions. Now... before you start shedding a tear for me or all start calling me at dinner time so I have to talk with my mouth full, this isn't an "everyone have pity on Ryan" post. Those posts will come later... just kidding!

But, if you haven't... I challenge you to try it. I'm not really saying it's some awesome experience or anything, but at least you can say you've done it.

Here's what my experience has been...

I cook this awesome meal (we're talking "awesome" in African terms... don't think that I'm the next up and coming chef or anything), then I walk on into my living room, park it on the couch, and then sit there awkwardly. It's like the whole time I'm expecting a TV to magically appear and the remote to be handed to me by the angel Gabriel (if you're wanting something to be praying about... there's your suggestion)!

I feel like Pavlov's Dog! I'm conditioned to reach for that remote control. It's so weird... you would think that I would be a little more comfortable with myself. I mean, I know there isn't going to be a TV magically appearing... but, that doesn't stop me from getting online and trying to find a short video to keep me occupied. Even then, I know my internet is nothing short of an evolved turtle, and I won't be able to get anything from that. (*Side note: I really did try that tonight! I'm such a loser!!)

Other times, I will just leave a book open beside me. It's impossible for me to actually read anything while I'm chewing (you should try that as well)... but, it's like a security blanket or something.

But... I really think there is a lot to learn about yourself when it's just you, the food on your plate, and the dogs barking outside down the street. I don't think I've ever really noticed what the refrigerator sounds like... but I do now!

If you're waiting for me to break out into something super spiritual, don't get your hopes too high. This is just an observation. It's actually what I was thinking while I was eating by myself tonight! No joke... my plate is sitting right next to me right now as I type, begging for me to give it a bath.

So... if you have some spiritual connection that you want to make here... please, use the comment section to tell the world... well, at least tell me! That would be really helpful!

But, if you haven't ever experienced it, you should go for. I mean... in order to really do this in the States, you may have to go to the bathroom and just eat on the toilet or something... that could be the only room that lacks a TV in the house.

OK, now I'm just rambling.

Like I said... don't feel sorry for me or anything. I'm not about to slit my wrist because I don't have anyone staring at me while I eat. I'm OK!

But... don't take company and community for granted. It's such a beautiful thing!

If you're not a regular here, and are looking for something a little more serious and about Africa... keep reading...

Tomatoes in Spaghetti

2007-10-05T00:02:00.000-07:00

That was an excerpt from my journal a few nights ago. I just had this huge urge to do something artsy. This was after thumbing through a copy of Relevant Magazine... that always gets my creative juices flowing! If I would have had a paint brush, I would have just painted... but I didn't. So, I wrote.

As I began to write, the Lord began to bring together a lot of what I had been experiencing over the last month. Things that I have been guilty of. Things that I hate in myself, but they are true. They are sneaky and true!

When I was finished writing, I read back through it. For the first time since I have been here, I just began to weep. Weeping for the people around here. Weeping because even still, I don't get it. Weeping because I am still so selfish.

I just began to beg God to change my eyes. To give me the ability to look at the crowds with compassion. To soften my heart. To see people as people... not numbers.

Perhaps this is just the beginning of the process God is taking me through to help me understand things around here a little better.

A Bit Like Jonah...

2007-10-04T02:56:00.001-07:00

It's so easy around here to loose focus.

Living in Blantyre, I am torn between two worlds. I am able to enjoy many "western" conveniences such as internet, electricity, good food, cold drinks, ect.

If I'm not careful, my human nature just starts to come out, and I start thinking about me.

Don't get me wrong, thinking about me is fun! I love to think about me. Besides... I have come all the way across the world, away from my friends and family... away from high speed internet... away from food that takes less than an hour to prepare... away from coffee shops and watching movies with friends... Don't I deserve to think about me?

It comes in such disguising ways here though. In ways that most people would argue are not wrong at all. Satan convinces me that it's OK to be wrapped up in myself.

When the things that I wrap myself up in for security are suddenly taken away ... maybe it's a routine power outage just when I'm wanting to chill at night ... maybe it's slow internet ... maybe it's a extra hot night to sleep through ... maybe it's that I'm dieing for a cold drink and just can't seem to get my hands on one! When these things come up, I just get selfish! I pout!!

Although I haven't found myself swimming around in the belly of a whale lately (knock on wood), I remind myself of Jonah.

Jonah was sent by God to a different land to speak the words of the Lord to a people that were going astray. Things weren't really going his way... he didn't really see what the point of traveling all the way to this distant land was.

It was HOT!

He was uncomfortable!!

Jonah found his security in a vine that gave him shade.
For me, this would be an ice cold Coke just when I can't take it anymore.

When the Lord took that security away from him, he pouted. He had forgot what his purpose for being in this distant land was. I think that he fell into maintenance mode. All his concerns were wrapped up in maintaining what was comfortable for him.

God's response to Jonah's pouting about his circumstances was:

"You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. But Ninevah has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?"
Jonah 4.10-11

I am constantly reminding myself that I cannot fall into the same sin that Jonah fell into.

Selfishness.

I too am surrounded by hundreds of thousands of people that are suffering without the hope of something greater. I don't have time to sit around and worry about myself. For some reason, the Lord has sent me to this place for a purpose. I can't loose sight of that.

Although I don't care to end up the way Jonah did in his selfishness, I wouldn't mind being thrown in the beginning of that story where Jonah is able to swim around for a few days in the belly of a whale! That would be nothing short of ecstasy for me right now in the heat of October in Malawi!

Sitting... Waiting...

2007-10-03T03:01:00.001-07:00

You're looking at an ant hill!!!

It's not a one of a kind either. They are everywhere. I didn't really realize that they were ant hills until I asked though. I thought to myself... I have to blog about this 8th wonder of the world. Pretty impressive huh?

Well... I saw this ant hill while I was out in a village called Chapananga. This 3 day adventure was rather uneventful. I was actually pretty bummed that I was going to have to think of something cool and crazy to write about in order to live up to my previous posts, and all I got was an ant hill. Let's face it... that's not going to keep the crowds coming back to this blog!!

I mean... there were other interesting points. It was HOT! I mean... HOT!!! The first night was absolutely miserable. I laid on the floor of this shack that had little to no ventilation, just praying that the Lord would get me though. I was pouring with sweat. I was just thinking how horrible Hell must really be!

I was so ready to just go home to my house of refuge in Blantyre. I was so tired of eating nsima and goat that I would just eat a few bites each time. So, I was delighted when we were in the car driving back to Blantyre, which is only a 2 hour drive, by noon! That would mean that I would be sitting comfortably in my house, eating a nice late lunch, and then cooking something super American for dinner!!

Apparently God wanted to teach me a few lessons before that though.

As we were be-bopping down the bumpy dirt road about 5 Km out of Chapananga, our car makes this loud crash, bang sound!! My heart just sank. All my hopes of refuge just flew out the window into that vast African countryside that surrounded me. It wasn't funny or adventurous or one of those "oh cool, now I have a story to tell" moments... I was at the end of my rope!

I jumped out of the car and saw a part that looked rather important laying about 20 yards back. It was obvious that we would be going nowhere soon! Worse yet... we were still out of cell phone coverage. Surprisingly, most of Malawi has cell coverage. However, lucky us... we were about 40 Km away from being able to call anyone. So, there we sat... Thomas and I... on the side of a lonely dirt road. Waiting...

Well... another truck passed by after a little while and went ahead to the next town to send a mechanic our way. Great!! We'll be on the road shortly! Keep in mind that it's 12:00... I only reluctantly ate a few bites of that goat earlier, because I just knew that I would be home in a few short hours. Now, we're on the side of a hot road with just water. Again, waiting....

About an hour later, in the distance we see 2 bicycles heading our way. It was the mechanic and his assistant!! I was a little disappointed to see that he was only carrying a wrench and screwdriver. However, this guy was a stud!! At first glance, he determined that the back right spring that holds the axle and wheel up had busted! This caused the whole axle to shift backwards and the propeller shaft to come loose... which is what the horrible crashing sound was. Now... I know very little about cars... but, I knew that this would be no small job!

So... the mechanic takes off the wheel and spring, straps it to the back of his bike and heads back to town to weld it back together.

So... by this time it's 2:00. Our estimate was that he would be back by 3:00, have everything fixed by 4:00... we'd be in Blantyre by 6:00. Not what we planned... but, we could live with that.

So... we waited. We waited longer. I took a short nap... and then waited longer!!

Then, in the distance, I heard some beating drums. They got closer and closer. Finally, over the horizon, we see this huge group of people walking down the road, dancing to drums. As they would pass by villages, people would come to the road, and their numbers would increase. They ended up stopping real close to us at the chief's house.

They were a cult-like group called Zionists. Basically, they dance around in circles until they get all trance-like, and then they start prophesying about the future. So... I pulled out my camera and thought... I gotta catch this stuff in action.

It was freaky... not gonna lie!! I was actually a little nervous. I was really apprehensive about taking pictures of them. First off... when you're the only white person in a group of a hundred, all eyes are always on you! So... the cult leader people would just look at me, and I just knew that at any moment, they were going to start prophesying something crazy about me, and I would be roasted on a stick or something! But, everything turned out OK.

But... It still was a little freaky for me. It's so sad to see how easily people around here are led astray though. They are so easily captivated by stuff that looks really miraculous.

Anyway... the mechanics finally returned!! Now it's about 4:30 or so.

It seemed like one thing after another would pose a problem. Things just weren't moving fast! My worst fears seemed to be approaching reality. I just knew that I was going to have to go back to that horrible place and sleep in the heat once more!! The very thought of eating nsima for another meal literally made me just want to throw up and start crying.

The sun went down, but they were still working. At one point, I seriously just started praying over our car. I know that sounds crazy... but, God is sovereign, and if he can heal people, there is no doubt in my mind that he can heal SUVs as well!

Well... 8 hours later, the ignition was started and lo and behold that car was rolling!! I wanted to hug everyone that was standing around me!!!

The craziest part was... for 8 hours of labor, plus the cost of welding the parts back... the mechanic only charged us about $15!!!

So... I got the message loud and clear. I am not allowed to pout! Just when I start getting whiny and acting like a spoiled Westerner... it only took 8 hours to realize how easily all my securities can be taken away. I got to see sort of first hand how it feels to live without some of these securities that I take for granted on a daily basis. How to just sit back and release control of the situation to the Lord. How to just settle down from the hurries of life and just sit. Yeah... we visited with people that came to keep us company... but, there was also a lot of sitting and waiting.

I need to get better at doing both of those things.

I pray that I don't have to learn lessons like this anymore. But, if I do... I know I will be stronger on the flip side!

Trip to Chididi...

2007-09-26T12:50:00.000-07:00

This is the biggest tree that I have ever seen!

I mean... don't get me wrong... driving around the African country side, you see trees like this everywhere. Some are almost this big... but, this one was just enormous! I spotted it on my way to a village called Chididi, down at the lower tip of Malawi. I went down there for just one night to tag along with the volunteers who are doing Home-Based Care visiting.

Although this trip was a pretty fast moving one, I experienced a lot of things!

One of them was...

Nsima and Chomba (fish)

After driving for hours in some of the hottest weather I have experienced, Thomas (the national that I was riding with) and I stopped in his home village to eat some lunch.

This was a very small village that was kinda in the middle of nowhere. I asked Thomas how often a white person comes to that village, and he guessed about once every two years or so. Well... when the kids saw the truck driving in the village, they all started screaming and chasing us. Then, to their amazement they saw none other than a real, live Azungu (white person)!!! Within about 5 minutes of arriving, I had about 40-50 kids surrounding me, mesmerized by my every move. You just think you know awkward till you get to a place where you can't communicate with anyone and everyone is just starring... not even starring from a distance, but withing 2-3 feet of you!

Anyway... lunch consisted of the highly acclaimed... Nsima!! I say highly acclaimed, because unless a Malawian has eaten nsima that day, they would say that they haven't eaten. Nsima is the doughy looking stuff you see in the picture above. And... it's just that... DOUGH. No seasonings... not salt or pepper... just maize flour and water. And they will prepare something to go along with it.

If there is one thing in the West that is just really different than most other places in the developing world it is food choice. People here literally eat the same thing every day of their lives... and they are content! I have been sharing the meals that I have been cooking for myself each night with my night guard. Granted, some aren't exactly culinary masterpieces, but there haven't been quite a few that I really thought to be home runs. I asked him just tonight what he thought of the meal... and I told him to be honest with me... and he still prefers Nsima over pretty much anything!

Anyway... by the end of this little excursion of mine, I was ready to hit the next person that said the word "Nsima"! Seriously... I was so tired of eating this stuff, I wanted to scream... and then gorge myself with peanut butter and jelly. But... I managed to make it. I think part of the reason why I ended up OK was the fact that the village I went to was nestled up in the mountains of southern Malawi... right on the border of Mozambique. It was absolutely beautiful!!

As we went out visiting people who were sick, we would walk up to a small hut that was situated at the top of a hill with a view that most Westerners would pay millions of dollars for.

I have a whole new respect for the volunteers (local church members) who are going out each week to bring basic necessities to the sick people involved in the program. It was really exciting for me to tag along and see things in action...

The volunteers visit with people in their own community and bring them food, take care of some needs around the house, have a short devotion with them, and just let them know that someone cares. It was really great!

We have Home-Based Care sites in 5 different villages in Malawi... I will have the opportunity to tag along with each one of these sites over the next month or so!

And lastly... what night would be complete without the great African game of Bao...

I desperately want to learn how to play this game. When you just try to watch people play, there is just no way to figure it out. I tried to get these guys to explain it to me... and none of them really knew how. But... soon I will be an expert! I promise.

In A Little Deeper...

2007-09-23T11:28:00.000-07:00

Wow... The last 5 days have been super intense for me!

I have been out visiting different villages among the Yao people. The Yao are more than 90% Muslim. I have never really been around Muslim culture and people to that extent before, and it was definitely an interesting experience.

Seeing as this is currently Ramadan, the missionaries that we were visiting are fasting along with the people. So... we chose to fast for the first day that we were there. I say "chose" loosely... we were kinda "told" to fast in order to not draw attention to ourselves while stuffing our faces.

A few things I didn't know about Ramadan fasting... not only do they abstain from eating, they also don't put liquids in their body. I'm talking NOTHING. Many even go to the extreme of not swallowing their spit! Basically, you fast while the sun is up. It's harder than you would think!!

Anyway... a few missionaries that I am working with and I went to this part of the country to check out another mission agency's work among the Muslims particularly regarding HIV.

I have to say that my mind is still spinning! I was hit with the reality of what is really going on here. The issues are sooooo deep. You cannot even begin to address the issue of HIV without considering the countless other problems that are amplifying it.

I have never experienced poverty to this extent before. It is truly overwhelming.

It has kind of become the norm around here to not name your child until they are 1 year old. The reality is, many children won't make it that far. By not giving the child a name, I guess it kind of softens the blow a bit. People also don't talk about being pregnant. During the time of pregnancy, they just go on with life as if nothing is going on, because they don't want to have to face the disappointment of loosing the child at birth.

Life here is just hard. I really don't know how to even begin to articulate it. It is so polar opposite of everything that we're used to in the West.

I was sitting next to a mother the other day that was breast feeding her child. From the looks of things, I don't think the child was really getting all that much. The lady's breast was little more than a shriveled flap of skin from malnutrition. After the child was kinda done, he sat in the dirt and started chewing on a leaf. I just sat there in amazement. At what point does it get so bad that your child is just chewing on leaves?

It was a pretty big blow for me to see how enormous the problems here are. I am just praying that God would bring me past this stage of feeling overwhelmed and helpless, to a point of realizing that I am not even going to begin to fix this problem or change the world... But, finding out what I can do here. Why God brought me here. And being OK with playing my small part in a much bigger picture.

The Yao people have one of the highest HIV rates in the country... 1 in 3 adults!

I still haven't even wrapped my head around that one!

However, I was really excited to see the work that this mission was doing among them.

There ministry really doesn't have anything to do with HIV, but they realized that no matter what kind of ministry you are doing in this culture, HIV is going to impact it. So... they have started a ministry, that has now been completely handed over to be run by Malawians as a community organization, to enable the people that are most in need to provide for themselves and generate an income.

This comes in various different forms. Some of the projects that we were able to see had to do with farming, irrigation, chicken raising, ect. Basically, they form a little club that centers around these things, and within that, a support group is fostered. It's pretty neat in that they are able to take complete ownership of what they are doing, and can take pride in what they have accomplished.

In one group, the members are all HIV positive. They are raising chickens together. The chicken alone provides them with much needed protein that they would not be getting otherwise to help with their drug treatment. The chickens also provide a means of getting money. But, for a group of people that are all suffering from this disease, they are able to come together on a regular basis and support one another. It is really working beautifully.

Gosh... there is so much more that I experienced in the last few days that I could write about. But, I hope that you see that the problem doesn't have a simple answer. Things have to be done outside the box. I haven't even come close to figuring out what the best way for me to approach the situation is.

The hard thing to do is to open your eyes as wide as you possibly can to see the big picture and try to approach things in a culturally relevant way, addressing all the issues that lie around HIV.

Hopefully as I become more and more engrossed in what is really happening here, I will begin to piece things together a little better.

Something I wrote down in my journal the other night was that there is no way that I could do this as just some non-profit worker. I would quit after just one day! The only thing that gets me through the overwhelming moments when I think that I can do absolutely nothing to change things is knowing that the Lord has called me to be here for a purpose. I don't even begin to think that I can do anything of worth... but, the Lord has this enormous plan that makes issues as gigantic as this one seem minuscule.

This is one of the groups that I mentioned. They are part of an irrigation project that is looking very successful.