It seems as though most of my posts could just begin with the same thing; “I know it has been a while since my last entry, and I have been really busy having fun in *insert country name here*.” Well, the same is true for this post. It certainly has been a while since I reconnected to the blogosphere, and a lot has happened.
I used to think that one had to be rich in order to have a second home in Africa. I also used to think that one had to have scandalous affairs in order to have a second family in another country. I just so happen to have both, and I am most definitely not a rich playboy. Being here at Tumaini is like visiting relatives on summer vacation. I can honestly say that I did nothing to prepare for this trip, but who prepares and hyper-schedules a family vacation?
I was particularly excited to visit the older boys of Tumaini. However, when I arrived I was surprised that the boys were not here anymore. Somebody replaced them with young men. Voices deeper, inches taller, and baby fat lost, I felt like a 2nd cousin “x” times removed-“Oh my, last time I saw you, you were only this tall!” The thoughts going through their head probably mirrored the ones that I used to have during those awkward moments, “Jee really?! I am taller? I thought puberty made people shrink, not grow!” I know, I was a smart a____ (fill in the blank with either the sound that a snake makes, or “leck”).
Hangin’ out at Tumaini always helps me recalibrate my compass (helping me find the magnetic North of my spiritual life), and this time is no exception. But oddly enough, it isn’t because of the extended time in church or the exaggerated Jesus language. The time in church has made me question the motives of such types of organized religion. The caging legalism, the rules of how to be perfect, and the crushing guilt that is quickly provided when those rules are broken, the “sin management”, the shame that takes the place of forgiveness, and the judgment that takes the place of mercy are things that drive me away from The Church. The farther I run from religion, the closer I get to God. I know that this sounds backwards, but maybe these man-made institutions have some things backwards also. Here is a perfect example…
One of my brothers here at Tumaini, OT, was told by the church elders that he couldn’t enter the church unless he shaved his dreadlocks, because-as we ALL know-Christians don’t have dreadlocks. This is HAIResy!!! (Oh, Levi you are so punny…) So, in the spirit of keeping The Rules, The Church turned away a former orphan who is hungry for God. I was reminded about the story in the Bible where Jesus didn’t heal the sick woman because he didn’t like the way she parted her hair. I bet John the Baptist had dreadlocks. Can you imagine a man out in the desert dressed in camel hair, eating locusts, and then taking the time to sit down in front of his mirror to comb his hair? Samson never even cut his hair. I wonder what his looked like.
I remember some elders from a church in the Dominican Republic trying to turn away several young women on the basis that their pants were too tight (I thought they looked great, just don’t ask me what the sermon was about). It is in this dangerous existence that, “come as you are” gets turned into, “come as you should be”. When we morph the openness of Jesus with the closed-mindedness of humanity we never fully understand what the image of God looks like.
I know that most of you just wanted a quick read on “My Summer In Kenya”, and didn’t anticipate a critical analysis of The Church, so I will give you what you want, and as always my attention span has run out so you will be left with the bullet point version. Sorry, but it is tea time and I am jonesin’ for some chai.
-fed a blind chameleon to a pig (it was an accident)
-laughed for extended amounts of time with the kids about the various tones and pitches of goat farts. Yes, I turn 19 in two weeks
-got in a water fight
-made a baby cry. On purpose. (don’t judge me)
-created a new french fry sauce that can only be described as an adventure for your taste buds
-taught the young men of Tumaini some kung fu moves and ended up bleeding. That backfired.
-got stuffed from liver, ostrich, and chocolate ice cream
-saw a woman wearing MC Hammer pants
-watched a rugby tourney and I still have no clue about how they play
-walked around the slums in flip flops and stepped in human excrement
-had a slumber party with the boys. We watched pirated movies and had French fries and s’mores for breakfast. Regardless of your opinions on pirated movies, I enjoy them. Plus, it takes about two generations for movies to come out in theatres here. I think Rocky II comes out next week.
-I have been improving my soccer skills. I can’t bend it like Beckham yet.
-I have been enjoying the Michael Jackson tributes on the radio. I still can’t do the “Smooth Criminal” lean though
-forgot to take my malaria medicine…since I have arrived. Sorry Mom.
-helped plant 400 trees at the new property that Tumaini has
Monday, June 29, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Better Late Than Never
It has been a while since my last entry, and I have changed time zones, languages, and cultures several times. Right now I am in Kenya, typing to the sounds of shouting babies, chirping birds, and Marvin Gaye. Before I dive into what I am doing in this last third of my world tour, I think it is time for me to mentally unpack my time in the Philippines. It is ironic that I use the term “unpack”, since the only thing I hate more than packing a bag is unpacking it. I unpacked my bag from the Philippines less than 24 hours from boarding the plane to Kenya.
As always, the little library that I take on my travels is about as random as a Final Jeopardy question. I have with me; A Complete Idiot’s Guide to Philosophy, 21st Century Leadership, Companion to the Poor, Dispossessed, How to be a CEO, A Beginner’s Guide to the World Economy, my Bible, Prophesy Deliverance, and several editions of Bon Appetit magazine. I find my reading time shorter than usual. *SPOILER ALERT* Books about world economy aren’t written to keep you on the edge of your seat, and analytical dialogues about emerging styles of leadership aren’t paperback page-turners. So, whenever my intellectual attention span burns out, I grab a Bon Appetit and read up on the culinary adventures of hip chic-chefs around the world.
Why is this important? Well, this morning I was diving into, uh, dipping my toes into German philosophy and renaissance humanism (I just wanted to say that to sound smart), and I stumbled across something that I connected with. The German philosopher Nicholas of Cusa (1400-1464, for those of you who care) is credited with coining the term learned ignorance. Simply put, the more you learn, the more you see how ignorant you are. The more you know, the more you know that you don’t know.
It is fit that I am drawn to renaissance humanism, since the meaning of renaissance is “rebirth”. For those of you who have seen my baby pictures, you will agree with me when I say I deserve a second chance. No, I wasn’t an UGLY baby, but I had color issues, and my eyes were engaged in an epic duel to see who could look the laziest. Picture a cross-eyed smurf. That was me for my first few days of life.
Renaissance. Rebirth. Reborn. Revival. Reform. Refine.
As I travel the earth, nomadically drifting from continent to continent, one of my goals is to learn as much as I can. Part of my elevator pitch to my parents one year ago was, “I am going to take a year off from FORMAL education.” The assumption was that I would soak up everything I could, and at the end of the year I will have amassed more knowledge and life wisdom than one year in college could give me. Not to mention it would be cheaper. I am not home yet, but I can honestly say that I have learned so much, and in learning so much I have learned that I have learned so little.
Ok Levi, thanks for the phun phacts about philosophy, but will you phinally tell us about your time in the Philippines?
Ok, and I will write in the same way I have travelled; without goals or planned direction. My words will wander onto the page in the same way that I have been wandering the world. Hopefully, both this reflection and my travels will end in a good place.
I can’t talk about the Philippines without first mentioning their national hero, Manny Pacquiao. Pound for pound the best boxer in the world, Manny is an example that reflects the balance of Filipino society. After aggressively destroying his opponent in the ring, Manny walks over to the corner and prays for several minutes before doing anything else. Hostility and tranquility. Every country and every culture encounters hostility. In the Philippines, it comes in the form of a government that seems to try to make life hard for people. The tranquility comes in the smiles and hopes of the people living in the squatter communities. The hostility comes in the deep corruption that runs “the system”. The tranquility comes in the blood, sweat, and tears of the men and women in the NGO community and civil society who have devoted their lives to fighting “the system”.
While most of my time in the DR was focused around church and ministry, my time in the Philippines was centered around NGOs and politics. I felt a little bit like the American version of Alexis de Tocqueville. I began my trip by spending a week at COPE (Community Organizers of the Philippines Enterprise. *Everything in the Philippines is an acronym. You don’t go to the bathroom, you go to the CR.*) I would often give my aunt and uncle a hard time, joking with them by saying “You guys are wonderful hosts. It’s my first week here and you ship me off to spend my first week with a group of strangers in the slums and squatters areas of Manila.” Although as un-hospitable as it sounds, there is no better way to be introduced to a city, a culture, and a community than to be immediately immersed. The organizers at COPE were a mixture of old(er) and young, “back in my day” and “I can’t wait until my day”, experienced and fresh. Each day I would go with a different organizer to their community, and I would watch and take part of grass roots organizing. I didn’t feel the need to DO too much, since that is such a Western concept, but we will get to that later. People began to call my time at COPE an “exposure”, although I don’t like this term, since it conjures up negative images (the first time I heard the word exposure was when I heard about a creepy man in a trenchcoat-and only a trenchcoat-going to playgrounds during recess. You get the picture.).
Call it what you want, my time at COPE reopened my eyes to the importance of grassroots community organizing. In the past, I used to think of community organizing as groups of has-beens coming together to sign petitions and hold clever signs at rallies. I used to think that grassroots organizing meant clusters of marginalized activists wearing buttons with silly one-liners about whoever was in authority at the moment. Besides, there is no real responsibility in community organizing, right? *zing*
The guys and gals at COPE were part of a different breed of activists that lived by the universal mantra of-If not us, then who? If not now, then when?
I spent some time at several other NGOs, and I began to notice something that most of them had in common. Everything they focused on, as an organization, was something having to do with the government, specifically the implementation of laws that were written for the good of the people. On my first day in the Philippines, I was told that the Philippines had one of the most progressive constitutions in the world. The problem stems from the lack of implementation. Many of the laws, codes, and ordinances were put into place by members of civil society themselves, however they are rarely implemented. This has created the lack of trust of the government among NGO workers. The Machiavellianism of many Filipino politicians has divided civil society with a fine line in the sand. On one side, the feeling is overwhelmingly anti-government. “If they aren’t for us, then they are against us.” To this side, politician is a bad word. This side spends the majority of their time protesting, boycotting, and what I have come to view as organized whining. Now, to a certain extent, protesting and boycotting are fine tactics if they are coupled with action (not to be confused with activism). However, whenever a mentality of “Us vs. Them” is adopted, it is hard to bring sustained change to the community that is being served. The group on the opposite side of the sand deals directly with the questions of; If not us, then who? If not now, then, when? They provide an answer.
US.
NOW.
Not that the second group lacks the bitter aftertaste of skepticism, but I feel that they speak the language of hope and change (yes, I did work for Obama), better than the first group. A paradigm shift needs to occur in order for true change to come, and that has happened for this group. Many of the vocal leaders on this side of the sand were once activists, and some even brought down dictators during the waves of social revolutions.
Ok, so if this group could overthrow dictators, then why hasn’t dramatic change come to the Philippines? The answer is simple. Sustainability.
I went around the country speaking at forums on changing politics. I shared my experience working on the Obama campaign as a field organizer, and how important grassroots community organizing is in bringing change. After my talk/speech there would be a Q&A session. The most frequent situation I encountered was as follows…
Someone would walk up to the microphone, ranging from young to old(er), man to woman, student to professor. They would clear their throat, introduce themselves, and then say something like this;
“Good afternoon sir. It was nice to hear about your experience on the Obama campaign, but that was in America. This is the Philippines, and we have had change before. We have had three socio-political revolutions, and we are still in the same place where we started. It is inspiring to hear about what happened in your country, but this is not America. Is change even possible?”
Is change possible? Yes, of course it is possible. We all know that. The question that should be asked instead is, “Is sustained change possible, and how do we create sustained change?”
To the person asking the skeptical question at the forum, I would always challenge them. If it was an old(er) person, I would tell them that they brought change, but did not sustain it. You can have a revolution every weekend, and can put anybody in power, but the real measure of your success is how that change is sustained. You can’t simply elect the best candidate (or, in many cases, the lesser of two evils) and then leave them with all of the power and problems. It is not enough to say “Ok we elected you, now go change our country and fix everything. We will check back with you next election time.”
If it was a young(er) person, I would tell them that the last thing the Philippines needs is another revolution, and to a certain extent the real goal is not to only have peaceful elections. The real goal is to create a sustainable movement of change. The difference between an election/revolution and a movement is that the former is finite. It has a measurable beginning, middle, and an end. A movement is ongoing, and regularly re-evaluates the goals and priorities, and works continuously towards a common goal. So, if the goal is just to have a peaceful election (which is all fine and dandy, don’t get me wrong) then you know when it will begin, and when it will end. The day after the election, everybody returns to back to “normal” life, and leaves the elected official to do their job. What happens if you don’t sustain that change, and hold that person accountable? They will be quickly swallowed by the monster of corruption.
People in the Philippines were quickly losing faith in the political system, and the election process. They would tell me that even when they did elect the right people for the job, they would quickly become corrupt and cross over to the dark side of the force. I would ask in reply, “Now, whose fault is that?” I was usually met with a blank stare, either because the person did not know the answer, or they were reluctant to admit that they knew the answer. Eventually, it would come out.
It is our fault.
I am not a fan of the blame game (although, I have let our dogs take the fall for an occasional stinky stench or two). However, isn’t it amusing to witness the reactions of individuals whenever they realize that they are a part of a bigger picture? I don’t want to get into the complexities of existentialism, but there is no greater arena that magnifies the significance of the individual (as it pertains to society) than politics.
So, how do we bring significant change? As I have mentioned before, it needs to be sustainable. One of the things that I have witnessed in my travels is that there is a key push in the direction of sustainability. From ministries to businesses, drug dealers to mission trips, sustainable development is one of the most frequently used terms. Those people who are biblical minded will view life, and therefore missions, as a race. And as almost every preacher has said from the pulpit, the race is a marathon, not a sprint. As humans we are naturally inclined towards the sprint. Perhaps we can blame our short attention spans, a bi-product of commercials, sound bite television, and 60 second microwavable meals. Take, for example, the Olympics. The world glues itself to the television during the Olympics, and which sports do we like to watch? We all remember Insane, er, Usain Bolt right? The fastest, and most arrogant, man in the world. Who among us can name the winners of the long distance running? And no, saying they were probably East African doesn’t count.
Politics is a marathon as well. It can’t be treated as a sprint. In other words, we can’t just line up (register to vote), run as fast as we can (campaign), cross the finish line (vote), and go home and take a shower (return to “normal” life). When we treat political change as a sprint, we set ourselves up for disappointment every time. Sustain the energy, sustain the vision, and you will eventually cross the finish line (with the East Africans).
The key ingredient in Sustainable Soup is accountability. There is an upcoming election in the Philippines on May 10, 2010, and members of civil society are preparing for the outcome by creating a model of representation that will elect and hold the newly elected officials accountable for their actions. This is called the Change Politics Movement. Corruption has a strong gravitational pull, like the Death Star, and in order to keep from being pulled over to the dark side of the force, the politicians will need more than a Luke Skywalker mental resistance. Keeping from the dark side takes more than willpower, it takes accountability.
I am proud of the amount of accountability that we have in America (for those of you who just scoffed, you obviously haven’t repeatedly bribed police and government officials with less money than it takes to buy a cheese burger off of the dollar menu). Here is a good example of the
intensity of our accountability:
While on the campaign trail, Barack and Michelle promised to get the girls a dog after November 4th, 2008. Shortly after the election, Obama went on Leno and was asked an interesting question. It didn’t have to do with the crumbling economy, the nuclear crisis in the Middle East, or the rapidly deteriorating social security system. Jay Leno asked President Obama if he had gotten the girls their dog yet. We will hold you accountable Mr. President…In my speeches I would highlight the need for sustainability, and accountability. There are many more ways to bring dramatic change to a country, but I didn’t have time in my speech to go over all of them, and I will spare you my thoughts on that for now.
Being vs. Doing
In western culture we have developed a philosophy that genuinely intrigues me, and at the same time baffles me. It is the notion of productivity, and accomplishment. When you come home to your loved one, what is the question that is usually asked?
“Hey (insert pet name here), what did you do today?”
What did you do today? More importantly, how would you feel if you didn’t really do too much? Whenever I had days when I didn’t really accomplish anything, I used to feel depressed. Wow, Levi, there goes a day you can never get back. Life is about maximizing our time on this earth, right? So, stop reading this and go find a cure for cancer. You can’t watch re-runs of the Cosby Show or go to the library and read because you should be working so you can get money so you can consume. Rinse and repeat. I don’t want this to sound lazy, but my time abroad has taught me to be comfortable with chilling. What did I do today? I chilled with the kids here at Tumaini. We made cupcakes and watched a movie. Who is to say that I can’t go to the other side of the world just to hang out?
“But wait, aren’t you a missionary or something? Isn’t this a mission trip? What did you build?”
Relationships.
I am about to type the dumbest, most loaded, and most commonly misinterpreted expression ever…WWJD? What would Jesus do? Shoot, I am not even going to pretend to know, but I can tell you what he did. Jesus chilled. He hung out, all the time. He didn’t feel the need to accomplish much, until the end of his time on earth. We don’t even really know what he did for the first 30 years of his life. He was all about being, and developing relationships with people.
The last six months have been about BEING, and I know that’s a particularly abstract concept, but there is no clearer word to describe my M.O. I had no goals for the Philippines. There was no plan. I knew when I was going, and I knew when I was coming back. I knew that I was staying with my aunt and uncle, and…hmm…yup that’s about it. The two most important words that I have been saying to myself for the last six months are LET GO.
LET GO. I have slowly learned to free myself from worrying and guilt, since neither of these two things can help me. My new perspective on missions, one that revolves entirely around being rather than doing, has helped me to cross into other cultures rapidly. In the Philippines, letting go helped me to be more than just another (you fill in the blank; tourist, backpacker, nomad, American, etc). I let go, and many of the things that I let go I surrendered to God. I let go of embarrassment and inhibitions, of pride and need to be accepted. I let go of fears and pet peeves. I let go of anything and everything that would hold me back. When I was in the Philippines, I even got the words “Let go” tattooed backwards on my chest so I would see it every time I looked in the mirror. Just kidding, Mom.
The power just went out. Maybe that is a sign that I should let go from the need to resolve this reflection. Maybe I am just projecting my writer’s block and laziness onto a timely lack of power. Does it matter? Not to me, and that is the joy of this new era in my life.
As always, the little library that I take on my travels is about as random as a Final Jeopardy question. I have with me; A Complete Idiot’s Guide to Philosophy, 21st Century Leadership, Companion to the Poor, Dispossessed, How to be a CEO, A Beginner’s Guide to the World Economy, my Bible, Prophesy Deliverance, and several editions of Bon Appetit magazine. I find my reading time shorter than usual. *SPOILER ALERT* Books about world economy aren’t written to keep you on the edge of your seat, and analytical dialogues about emerging styles of leadership aren’t paperback page-turners. So, whenever my intellectual attention span burns out, I grab a Bon Appetit and read up on the culinary adventures of hip chic-chefs around the world.
Why is this important? Well, this morning I was diving into, uh, dipping my toes into German philosophy and renaissance humanism (I just wanted to say that to sound smart), and I stumbled across something that I connected with. The German philosopher Nicholas of Cusa (1400-1464, for those of you who care) is credited with coining the term learned ignorance. Simply put, the more you learn, the more you see how ignorant you are. The more you know, the more you know that you don’t know.
It is fit that I am drawn to renaissance humanism, since the meaning of renaissance is “rebirth”. For those of you who have seen my baby pictures, you will agree with me when I say I deserve a second chance. No, I wasn’t an UGLY baby, but I had color issues, and my eyes were engaged in an epic duel to see who could look the laziest. Picture a cross-eyed smurf. That was me for my first few days of life.
Renaissance. Rebirth. Reborn. Revival. Reform. Refine.
As I travel the earth, nomadically drifting from continent to continent, one of my goals is to learn as much as I can. Part of my elevator pitch to my parents one year ago was, “I am going to take a year off from FORMAL education.” The assumption was that I would soak up everything I could, and at the end of the year I will have amassed more knowledge and life wisdom than one year in college could give me. Not to mention it would be cheaper. I am not home yet, but I can honestly say that I have learned so much, and in learning so much I have learned that I have learned so little.
Ok Levi, thanks for the phun phacts about philosophy, but will you phinally tell us about your time in the Philippines?
Ok, and I will write in the same way I have travelled; without goals or planned direction. My words will wander onto the page in the same way that I have been wandering the world. Hopefully, both this reflection and my travels will end in a good place.
I can’t talk about the Philippines without first mentioning their national hero, Manny Pacquiao. Pound for pound the best boxer in the world, Manny is an example that reflects the balance of Filipino society. After aggressively destroying his opponent in the ring, Manny walks over to the corner and prays for several minutes before doing anything else. Hostility and tranquility. Every country and every culture encounters hostility. In the Philippines, it comes in the form of a government that seems to try to make life hard for people. The tranquility comes in the smiles and hopes of the people living in the squatter communities. The hostility comes in the deep corruption that runs “the system”. The tranquility comes in the blood, sweat, and tears of the men and women in the NGO community and civil society who have devoted their lives to fighting “the system”.
While most of my time in the DR was focused around church and ministry, my time in the Philippines was centered around NGOs and politics. I felt a little bit like the American version of Alexis de Tocqueville. I began my trip by spending a week at COPE (Community Organizers of the Philippines Enterprise. *Everything in the Philippines is an acronym. You don’t go to the bathroom, you go to the CR.*) I would often give my aunt and uncle a hard time, joking with them by saying “You guys are wonderful hosts. It’s my first week here and you ship me off to spend my first week with a group of strangers in the slums and squatters areas of Manila.” Although as un-hospitable as it sounds, there is no better way to be introduced to a city, a culture, and a community than to be immediately immersed. The organizers at COPE were a mixture of old(er) and young, “back in my day” and “I can’t wait until my day”, experienced and fresh. Each day I would go with a different organizer to their community, and I would watch and take part of grass roots organizing. I didn’t feel the need to DO too much, since that is such a Western concept, but we will get to that later. People began to call my time at COPE an “exposure”, although I don’t like this term, since it conjures up negative images (the first time I heard the word exposure was when I heard about a creepy man in a trenchcoat-and only a trenchcoat-going to playgrounds during recess. You get the picture.).
Call it what you want, my time at COPE reopened my eyes to the importance of grassroots community organizing. In the past, I used to think of community organizing as groups of has-beens coming together to sign petitions and hold clever signs at rallies. I used to think that grassroots organizing meant clusters of marginalized activists wearing buttons with silly one-liners about whoever was in authority at the moment. Besides, there is no real responsibility in community organizing, right? *zing*
The guys and gals at COPE were part of a different breed of activists that lived by the universal mantra of-If not us, then who? If not now, then when?
I spent some time at several other NGOs, and I began to notice something that most of them had in common. Everything they focused on, as an organization, was something having to do with the government, specifically the implementation of laws that were written for the good of the people. On my first day in the Philippines, I was told that the Philippines had one of the most progressive constitutions in the world. The problem stems from the lack of implementation. Many of the laws, codes, and ordinances were put into place by members of civil society themselves, however they are rarely implemented. This has created the lack of trust of the government among NGO workers. The Machiavellianism of many Filipino politicians has divided civil society with a fine line in the sand. On one side, the feeling is overwhelmingly anti-government. “If they aren’t for us, then they are against us.” To this side, politician is a bad word. This side spends the majority of their time protesting, boycotting, and what I have come to view as organized whining. Now, to a certain extent, protesting and boycotting are fine tactics if they are coupled with action (not to be confused with activism). However, whenever a mentality of “Us vs. Them” is adopted, it is hard to bring sustained change to the community that is being served. The group on the opposite side of the sand deals directly with the questions of; If not us, then who? If not now, then, when? They provide an answer.
US.
NOW.
Not that the second group lacks the bitter aftertaste of skepticism, but I feel that they speak the language of hope and change (yes, I did work for Obama), better than the first group. A paradigm shift needs to occur in order for true change to come, and that has happened for this group. Many of the vocal leaders on this side of the sand were once activists, and some even brought down dictators during the waves of social revolutions.
Ok, so if this group could overthrow dictators, then why hasn’t dramatic change come to the Philippines? The answer is simple. Sustainability.
I went around the country speaking at forums on changing politics. I shared my experience working on the Obama campaign as a field organizer, and how important grassroots community organizing is in bringing change. After my talk/speech there would be a Q&A session. The most frequent situation I encountered was as follows…
Someone would walk up to the microphone, ranging from young to old(er), man to woman, student to professor. They would clear their throat, introduce themselves, and then say something like this;
“Good afternoon sir. It was nice to hear about your experience on the Obama campaign, but that was in America. This is the Philippines, and we have had change before. We have had three socio-political revolutions, and we are still in the same place where we started. It is inspiring to hear about what happened in your country, but this is not America. Is change even possible?”
Is change possible? Yes, of course it is possible. We all know that. The question that should be asked instead is, “Is sustained change possible, and how do we create sustained change?”
To the person asking the skeptical question at the forum, I would always challenge them. If it was an old(er) person, I would tell them that they brought change, but did not sustain it. You can have a revolution every weekend, and can put anybody in power, but the real measure of your success is how that change is sustained. You can’t simply elect the best candidate (or, in many cases, the lesser of two evils) and then leave them with all of the power and problems. It is not enough to say “Ok we elected you, now go change our country and fix everything. We will check back with you next election time.”
If it was a young(er) person, I would tell them that the last thing the Philippines needs is another revolution, and to a certain extent the real goal is not to only have peaceful elections. The real goal is to create a sustainable movement of change. The difference between an election/revolution and a movement is that the former is finite. It has a measurable beginning, middle, and an end. A movement is ongoing, and regularly re-evaluates the goals and priorities, and works continuously towards a common goal. So, if the goal is just to have a peaceful election (which is all fine and dandy, don’t get me wrong) then you know when it will begin, and when it will end. The day after the election, everybody returns to back to “normal” life, and leaves the elected official to do their job. What happens if you don’t sustain that change, and hold that person accountable? They will be quickly swallowed by the monster of corruption.
People in the Philippines were quickly losing faith in the political system, and the election process. They would tell me that even when they did elect the right people for the job, they would quickly become corrupt and cross over to the dark side of the force. I would ask in reply, “Now, whose fault is that?” I was usually met with a blank stare, either because the person did not know the answer, or they were reluctant to admit that they knew the answer. Eventually, it would come out.
It is our fault.
I am not a fan of the blame game (although, I have let our dogs take the fall for an occasional stinky stench or two). However, isn’t it amusing to witness the reactions of individuals whenever they realize that they are a part of a bigger picture? I don’t want to get into the complexities of existentialism, but there is no greater arena that magnifies the significance of the individual (as it pertains to society) than politics.
So, how do we bring significant change? As I have mentioned before, it needs to be sustainable. One of the things that I have witnessed in my travels is that there is a key push in the direction of sustainability. From ministries to businesses, drug dealers to mission trips, sustainable development is one of the most frequently used terms. Those people who are biblical minded will view life, and therefore missions, as a race. And as almost every preacher has said from the pulpit, the race is a marathon, not a sprint. As humans we are naturally inclined towards the sprint. Perhaps we can blame our short attention spans, a bi-product of commercials, sound bite television, and 60 second microwavable meals. Take, for example, the Olympics. The world glues itself to the television during the Olympics, and which sports do we like to watch? We all remember Insane, er, Usain Bolt right? The fastest, and most arrogant, man in the world. Who among us can name the winners of the long distance running? And no, saying they were probably East African doesn’t count.
Politics is a marathon as well. It can’t be treated as a sprint. In other words, we can’t just line up (register to vote), run as fast as we can (campaign), cross the finish line (vote), and go home and take a shower (return to “normal” life). When we treat political change as a sprint, we set ourselves up for disappointment every time. Sustain the energy, sustain the vision, and you will eventually cross the finish line (with the East Africans).
The key ingredient in Sustainable Soup is accountability. There is an upcoming election in the Philippines on May 10, 2010, and members of civil society are preparing for the outcome by creating a model of representation that will elect and hold the newly elected officials accountable for their actions. This is called the Change Politics Movement. Corruption has a strong gravitational pull, like the Death Star, and in order to keep from being pulled over to the dark side of the force, the politicians will need more than a Luke Skywalker mental resistance. Keeping from the dark side takes more than willpower, it takes accountability.
I am proud of the amount of accountability that we have in America (for those of you who just scoffed, you obviously haven’t repeatedly bribed police and government officials with less money than it takes to buy a cheese burger off of the dollar menu). Here is a good example of the
intensity of our accountability:
While on the campaign trail, Barack and Michelle promised to get the girls a dog after November 4th, 2008. Shortly after the election, Obama went on Leno and was asked an interesting question. It didn’t have to do with the crumbling economy, the nuclear crisis in the Middle East, or the rapidly deteriorating social security system. Jay Leno asked President Obama if he had gotten the girls their dog yet. We will hold you accountable Mr. President…In my speeches I would highlight the need for sustainability, and accountability. There are many more ways to bring dramatic change to a country, but I didn’t have time in my speech to go over all of them, and I will spare you my thoughts on that for now.
Being vs. Doing
In western culture we have developed a philosophy that genuinely intrigues me, and at the same time baffles me. It is the notion of productivity, and accomplishment. When you come home to your loved one, what is the question that is usually asked?
“Hey (insert pet name here), what did you do today?”
What did you do today? More importantly, how would you feel if you didn’t really do too much? Whenever I had days when I didn’t really accomplish anything, I used to feel depressed. Wow, Levi, there goes a day you can never get back. Life is about maximizing our time on this earth, right? So, stop reading this and go find a cure for cancer. You can’t watch re-runs of the Cosby Show or go to the library and read because you should be working so you can get money so you can consume. Rinse and repeat. I don’t want this to sound lazy, but my time abroad has taught me to be comfortable with chilling. What did I do today? I chilled with the kids here at Tumaini. We made cupcakes and watched a movie. Who is to say that I can’t go to the other side of the world just to hang out?
“But wait, aren’t you a missionary or something? Isn’t this a mission trip? What did you build?”
Relationships.
I am about to type the dumbest, most loaded, and most commonly misinterpreted expression ever…WWJD? What would Jesus do? Shoot, I am not even going to pretend to know, but I can tell you what he did. Jesus chilled. He hung out, all the time. He didn’t feel the need to accomplish much, until the end of his time on earth. We don’t even really know what he did for the first 30 years of his life. He was all about being, and developing relationships with people.
The last six months have been about BEING, and I know that’s a particularly abstract concept, but there is no clearer word to describe my M.O. I had no goals for the Philippines. There was no plan. I knew when I was going, and I knew when I was coming back. I knew that I was staying with my aunt and uncle, and…hmm…yup that’s about it. The two most important words that I have been saying to myself for the last six months are LET GO.
LET GO. I have slowly learned to free myself from worrying and guilt, since neither of these two things can help me. My new perspective on missions, one that revolves entirely around being rather than doing, has helped me to cross into other cultures rapidly. In the Philippines, letting go helped me to be more than just another (you fill in the blank; tourist, backpacker, nomad, American, etc). I let go, and many of the things that I let go I surrendered to God. I let go of embarrassment and inhibitions, of pride and need to be accepted. I let go of fears and pet peeves. I let go of anything and everything that would hold me back. When I was in the Philippines, I even got the words “Let go” tattooed backwards on my chest so I would see it every time I looked in the mirror. Just kidding, Mom.
The power just went out. Maybe that is a sign that I should let go from the need to resolve this reflection. Maybe I am just projecting my writer’s block and laziness onto a timely lack of power. Does it matter? Not to me, and that is the joy of this new era in my life.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Every time someone asks me "What are you here for?" I have a different answer. Fun. Adventure. To "find myself". For the experience. For the mangos. To escape the heat. Just because I wanted to, and had the money from selling The Beast (the love of my life, my 1968 Ford Galaxie). I have a different answer everyday, and a different answer for every person. It is freedom from reason that brings me to the wonderful places where I meet interesting people. Simply put, my reason for being here is that I don't need a reason, and that reason is good enough for me.
I spent the last weekend in a hammock on the beach. It is a hard life but somebody has to live it. I had a lot of time to read, reflect, pray, eat, sleep, rinse and repeat. I ate crab stuffed with coconut, fresh shimp with lime, and an interesting dish made from liver and lung...
Now that I am back in the jungle (aka metro Manila), I can truly appreciate certain things that we take for granted back in the States. Here are some of them...
-Speed limits.
-Maximum Occupancy levels in public transportation. Being a head taller than 99% of the country, I have been in some unwanted awkward situations in super crowded trains. I am reminded of a Chris Tucker line from Rush Hour 2-"Who touched my butt?!....do it again".
-Taxis that don't refuse to drive you. Here in Manila you must ask if the driver will be so kind as to take you where you want to go. If he doesn't want to go that way, he will just look for another customer. I was under the impression that they take you where you want to go. I guess not.
-Bathrooms with toilet paper. Be prepared. Enough said.
-Toilets that flush. No comment.
-Sidewalks. Many areas were designed as if there was no design.
-Actual coffee. No, not instant. I think the UN should have a summit about the international banning of instant coffee.
-Lack mistranslated things/places No, I would not like to eat at Kiss King of Balls, and what is an "emergency door cock" anyway?
-Ps and Fs. Here in the Pilippines, feople mix the Ps and Fs. Yes, I have visited many "non-fropit organizations", and yes they are "berry berry pun". Did I mention I went to a Pish Port?
-City planning.
-Security protocols. I am constantly asking the security guards, "Wow arent you going to take me to dinner or buy me a drink first?" No guns or bombs right there...
-Clean air. Between the pollution and the cigarette smoke I can understand why some people walk around with masks or rags covering their nose and mouth.
-Garbage collection. Trash, especially those stupid plastic bags, has become a terminal disease for the environment (a perfect example is how the rivers have turned black and in some areas have a smell so bad that your nose hairs get singed).
Now, normally I am very understanding when it comes to the different or strange quirks in every culture. But there is one thing that I can't understand, and maybe I never will, and that is the love that Filipinos have for karaoke (and my favorite recipe for a fun night=karaoke+reverb). This weekend I woke up at 4 am to catch the sunrise on the beach from my hammock. I was being lulled to sleep from the lapping of the waves, and woken up from the drunken serenading of a heavily accented tone deaf man's "artistic interpretation" of all the top love songs from the 80s.
Shakespeare once wrote, "If music be the food of love, play on". What many people don't know is that the next sentence is "and if music is the food of love, then karaoke is food poisoning".
Just kidding. Ish. Or as many Pilipinos would say after a sarcastic remark, "Jokes!"
Monday, April 13, 2009
The Vanilla Thrilla in Manila
-13 hour flight to Tapei. I sat in bulkhead, about 20 inches away from a bigscreen tv (40+ inches). I was so close I practically had to watch Twilight crosseyed!
-China Airlines has outstanding service! The ratio of flight attendants to customers is almost 1:1 (not really, but if you even THINK to yourself "I want some tea.", then they are there serving you)
-Getting off of the airplane I was blasted with the relentless combination of heat and humidity.
-The plus side to coming here in the hottest time of the year is that it is mango season! You have not had a mango until you have had a mango from the Philippines. What you were eating was an impostor.
-When I arrived I played basketball with some guys in the neighborhood. I am staying with my aunt and uncle in Malabon (the northern part of Metro Manila). They are wonderful hosts. My first night here in Manila I was served balut (a fertilized duck egg with a nearly developed embryo inside). It tasted better than it looked, but you wont be seeing balut on the shelves of King Soopers any time soon. Imagine peeling an egg to find a baby duck inside...and then sucking the juices out and eating the baby duck. That's balut.
-I have eaten horse meat, wild boar, and many kinds of fish.
-I have witnessed the global phenomenon of malls. They are everywhere! If you want to transfer from one train to another, you have to walk through a mall. It is interesting to witness an entire generation slip into the drone-like meander of window shopping. Chalk one up for globalization!
-Being in the Philippines for Holy Week has been an interesting experience. Neighborhoods around the country hold "pabasas", a 24/7 ceremony where a rotation of volunteers sing into a microphone for the entire neighborhood to hear. Imagine waking up at any time of the night to the angelic combination of reverb and Tagalog hymns...
Another part of the Filipino Holy Week experience is the "flagelantes". These are men who whip themselves in a Christ-like procession in the streets. First, they cover their faces with a t-shirt or a bandana. Then, they cut their backs with sharp razors, creating rows of dripping blood. Finally, the men walk down the street while whipping their backs with bamboo whips. As a sort of spiritual finale, I witnessed 3 men actually get nailed to crosses (for about 10 minutes). That was an extreme experience, partly because of standing in the brutal heat for several hours, and partly because I saw a Roman centurion pull out a pink cellphone and snap a picture of Jesus. I dont remember reading that part.
-I visited the Death March Memorial, where they were holding an event remembering the victims of this brutal event in the history of the Philippines. It was an honor to see the veterans who are still living, Filipino AND Japanese, in a time of reconciliation and rememberance.
-I hiked to Mount Pinatubo and stood knee deep in the blue sulfuric waters of the crater lake while eating a mango and watching Japanese tourists stereotypically pose for pictures.
-I have spent a substantial chunk of my time at an Aeta village, hiking, playing with the children, and reflecting
-Being in between trips to the Dominican Republic and Kenya, I find it ironic that the coffee here in the Philippines is instant (People ask, "Do you want some '3 in 1'", the type of "coffee" with cream and sugar already in it). The coffee in the DR is so strong, black, and pure that it is called hair dye. The coffee in Kenya is so good that they serve it at Starbucks . Here in the Philippines? Well...
-I have spent most of my time here in Manila traveling around with different community based NGOs, experiencing firsthand the hope and pain of the communities here. The rapid urbanization has left many areas in metro Manila to the rapid spread of unplanned squatter areas. They have no land rights, and the government is always evicting them without plans of relocation. On the taxi ride from the airport, on my very first day, I witnessed the eviction and demolition of a road side squatter community.
-This weekend I am going to the beach to try an escape the heat!
This has been just a simple review of what I have been doing in my time here. My next entry will be more of a reflection...
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