My Drinking Buddies

The other night, Stephanie and I did our usually Monday routine of going to Moore Square Park, handing out sandwiches and talking to people who hang out there. Most of these people are homeless. We do this every week and the people down there know us. They greet us as we walk up to them, we hang out and talk for about an hour, and at some point we hand out about a dozen sandwiches. Stephanie and I used to each eat a sandwich ourselves, but somewhere along the line the demand for the sandwiches eventually greatly outnumbered how many we would bring (We make really good sandwiches).

This past Monday night was interesting. As soon as we got there, Stephanie separated from the group to play in the leaves with a young girl. I was left standing in a circle with about 10 guys. One guy had a case of Ice House and started passing them out to everyone. Within a few seconds I was the only one in the circle without a beer. The man with the case noticed this and said, "Wait. Chris, I forgot about you. Did you want one?"


In just a fraction of a second lots of thoughts raced through my head:

Is it even legal to drink out here?
It has been a rough day at work. I could use a drink.
If I was with any of my other friends, what would I be doing right now?
I've had beer and wine with homeless guys before.
Am I pretending to be somebody I'm not when I'm down here?
I've tasted fresh moonshine in Uganda.
Why not?

And that's exactly what I said. "Why not?" The guys got a good chuckle out of this, and I felt this strange sense of community with the group as I drank my beer. There were all kinds of comments thrown out in the circle:

"I wasn't going to smoke in front of these two out of respect for them. I thought they were from a church or something."
"No, this guy is always drinking down at the Raleigh Times."
"Yeah, I've seen him there with my brother."
"Chris, man, now you know you're going to have to chip in next time we collect."

I began to realize that apparently there are eyes on the street, as well as embellishments. After that, things got a little weird. Someone pulled out a joint and some of them started passing that around. I also noticed money exchanging hands for something small that I suspect were drugs. These things never happened before, but somehow my status had instantly changed. They weren't ashamed to do anything around me. But oddly enough, they would still apologize to us after cussing, even while accidentally blowing smoke in my face while doing so. By the time we left, Stephanie and I smelled like we had just come from a Willie Nelson concert.

It's been a few days since this experience and I still can't decide how I feel about it. I have my own thoughts ranging from, "I'm an idiot," all the way to, "I should bring a case of beer to pass out next week," but I'm curious what others think. So if you've read this far, please make a stance on this issue and post a comment.

News From Our Shoes

As time goes on, I am realizing that more and more of my friends are homeless. Not that my friends are losing their homes, but I am spending a lot of time chumming around with guys who live out on the streets. It sometimes makes me cringe when people call these friendships part of my ministry. These guys have become my friends and they are part of the life I am enjoying very much.

There are some remarkable people who stay down at the shelter. I wish more people would get to know some of them, as there is so much to learn from some of these guys. I'm really enjoying how Ricky's story is coming along. If you haven't been following it you should. I suggest reading the oldest post first and going through it backwards.

Ricky

Another interesting website done by a homeless man is News From Our Shoes. Michael Watkins is a fascinating guy who is attempting to bring news relevant to the homeless to Raleigh. Michael has a vision of creating an entire news broadcast around this concept. Can you believe that? There's a man living down at the shelter with a website that gets about 1,000 hits a day, who wants to produce a television news broadcast. It sounds unbelievable, but he is closer to achieving this goal than you'd think.

I took some pictures to help these guys out. They are looking for close to $1000 in sponsorships in order to take some broadcasting courses. I could use a better camera, but I still think these are pretty good.

Michael

There is a meeting about Raleigh's 10 year plan to end homelessness on Thursday (12/11). It's at 9 AM down at the shelter. I'm debating whether or not I should take off work to go. There's a poll on the right margin of this page. Please chime in.

The Last Lecture

I recently finished a book called "The Last Lecture". It was an incredibly short and simple book, but the story behind the book is impacting and amazing. My mom gave it to me for my birthday earlier this year with the instruction of passing it on.

Randy did end up dying over the summer, but not before touching millions of people with his story. There will always be those people we foolishly want to believe "have it all figured out", but I really think that Randy at least had something figured out. I don't know what it means to "have it all figured out", but to accept an early death with satisfaction and contentment sounds like a good start. We can all learn something from someone so secure in his outlook on life. I'd like to think that I could stare death in the eye without fear or panic, but I somehow doubt it. Unfortunately, none of us will ever know what we're really made of until we come face to face with the inevitable. We just hope that we'll be ready when that day comes.

If you can't read the book, at least watch the last lecture that inspired the writing of the book.

A Thanksgiving Worth Remembering

"When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return, and repayment come to you. But when you give a reception, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, since they do not have the means to repay you; for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."
-Luke 14:12-14

Yet another passage from the bible that speaks for itself and yet is rarely followed. In our American society it actually seems foreign for a Christian to do something like this. And yet straight from the words of Jesus, it's right there in black and white (or in some cases, red).

This year my friend Steph decided to actually invite a few homeless people to her Thanksgiving dinner. Steph's motivation probably had less to do with following the passage in Luke, and more to do with the simple fact that she has formed some close friendships within Raleigh's homeless circle. It just made sense to invite a few of them over. Sure enough, everyone had a great time and one of the guys even commented that it was the best Thanksgiving he ever had. None of this was a shock, but it was the reaction from Steph's parents that surprised me.

Not at all knowing that homeless people were invited to dinner, or that their daughter even had homeless friends, we were a little concerned how Steph's parents were going to react to the arrival of Ricky and Michael at the house. But for whatever reason they just immediately connected with these two, her mother with Michael and her stepfather with Ricky. If you knew these four people, you would have hardly expected this. But there was no interrupting them as they talked back and forth throughout the afternoon. After Ricky and Michael went back to the shelter, Steph's parents commented that talking to them was such a treat and the highlight of their Thanksgiving.

The lesson for me was that relationships with the less fortunate are anything but one sided. Steph's parents came to Raleigh looking for a memorable holiday celebration with their two children. What they went home with was an unforgettable experience sharing stories with two men they had never met before. No need to wait around for the resurrection of the righteous, their repayment was immediate. I might go as far as to say that this strange social experiment was more impacting on Steph's parents than it was on Ricky and Michael, but isn't it always that way when we serve the poor.

I talked to Ricky today and he told me that Steph's mom had been sending Michael emails. I think I may have witnessed the beginning of a long friendship, not to mention a Thanksgiving worth remembering.

International Festival

A few weeks back, Garner Magnet High School hosted it's 3rd annual International Festival. Since I actively participated in setting up 3 different booths, I thought it warranted a blog post. So here are the booths:

Booth 1:
Beleza/Fair Trade

Sorry about the blurry picture, these pictures were taken by students, so what are you going to do?

The paintings were done by my friend Eddie Bbira in Uganda. They're painted on bark cloth and they sell them at Beleza in Cameron Village.



Booth 2:
Invisible Children

Welcome to Gulu, Uganda. This grass roof was a pain in the ptootie to build. But it looks pretty bad-a, right?

Booth 3:
Painting Lemonade
Guatemala City, Guatemala

I'm most proud of this one. I put together the Painting Lemonade project back in August. Wake County high school students paint portraits of children in La Limonada. I'll be delivering some of these 250 pictures to the children in April, during my spring break. Not bad, huh?

Yesterday's Bible Lesson

Yesterday, instead of church I went down to Moore Square for a free bacon and egg biscuit and some fellowship with the local homeless crowd. Afterwards, I went to a coffee shop and actually read my bible. I read Ecclesiastes and came across this gem of a passage:

And I discovered more bitter than death the woman whose heart is snares and nets, whose hands are chains. One who is pleasing to God will escape from her, but the sinner will be captured by her.

-Ecclesiastes 7:26

I'd like to say that this passage is the reason I am still single, but I have been "the sinner", or in my case "the fool", quite a few times in my life. I wish I could say I wasn't at all "bitter" as the passage reads. Maybe someday I'll find that special lady who is not a net and chains.

Sometimes I just can't believe the things I come across in that crazy book.

Lady's and Gentlemen, Ricky Caldwell

I'd like to introduce you all to my good friend, Ricky Caldwell. I met Ricky down at Moore Square Park back in August. We have been great friends ever since. Ricky has a lot of noticeable differences from myself, but the most noteworthy would have to be the fact that Ricky is homeless.



Over the last few months Ricky has shared with me so many interesting stories about his life on the streets. So very often I would hear him say, "Man, Chris, you wouldn't even believe the stuff I've seen. But I tell ya, I'm going to write a book about it some day." Every time I would hear Ricky say that, the little voice in my head would say, "Yeah, right. This high school drop out is never going to actually sit down and write anything." Well, instead of being cynical, like usual, I decided to actually do something. I proudly give you rickycaldwell.blogspot.com

Ricky has worse computer skills than my Ugandan friends, so he is going to write down his thoughts on paper, and we will get together every week and try to post a blog. This is a very interesting project that I am extremely excited about being a part of. I hope it sparks some interest and maybe, some day, Ricky will fulfill his dream of writing a book.

The Gathering

So, for about a month now we've been experimenting with a nameless church group, for the moment we will call, The Gathering. The goal of the gathering is to promote a Christian support group amongst the homeless and formerly homeless people of Raleigh. This is a picture from our first ever meeting, just a few weeks ago. I am very excited to be a part of this movement and I am excited to see where goes. When people ask me, "what is the gathering?" I usually get frustrated at my inability to share Hugh's vision with just about anybody. But here's a story that I think explains what it is we are trying to accomplish.

Week 2 of the gathering.

My friend Stephanie showed up 5 minutes late, and found herself locked out of the building. As she is about to bang on the door, she sees Ronnie coming down the sidewalk. They greet each other, and when the question of, "how's it going?" comes up, Ronnie explains that he is extremely frustrated. Ronnie spens the next 45 minutes talking out of control about losing jobs and people not supporting him and his large distaste for how he was treated at church earlier that morning. Stephanie, was at loss for how to respond to all of this, but is somewhat successful at calming Ronnie down at least somewhat before they decide to join the rest of the group.

At this point, Stephanie and Ronnie had missed almost all of the discussion, but there was a moment at the end where it was asked if there were any concerns we should know about that we could be praying for. Ronnie immediately jumped in with his story from church that morning, having to do with the loss of his job and his need for money and work. Before Ronnie could get anywhere in his story, another homeless guy named Everit jumped in and said something along the lines of, "Man Ronnie, at some point you just have to look at your situation and say, 'is it everybody around me, or is it something that I'm doing?' Listen, you've lost 4 jobs in the last 2 months. I used to go through the same cycle all the time, and I finally thought to myself, 'is it the world that's messin up my life, or is it something that I'm doing that's causing this?' Nothings going to change unless you start taking some responsibility for yourself"

A few of the other guys off the street chimed in and talked about the situation for a little bit. Stephanie realized that she was in no position to give Ronnie the advice that Everit had given him, but it was exactly what Ronnie needed. I think this story embodies the whole purpose of our little group. I'm looking forward to hearing more discussions like this in the future and to building a strong community in downtown Raleigh.

Speeches

With all the great political speeches going on right now, I was sent down memory lane thinking about the last time I got to give a speech. It was about a year ago and the occasion was the Beta club induction at my high school. Not the greatest venue, but I remember being quite nervous with a few hundred parents and students in front of me. For the casual blog reader, this might be a bit lengthy, but I only post it because I thought it was a decent piece of work. If you actually read the whole thing please leave a comment.



October 17th, 2007

Thank you all for being here tonight, it is quite an honor to be up here speaking to you; parents, friends and most importantly our new Beta Club inductees. Congratulations! You guys are here tonight because you have displayed leadership, strong academics, service and most importantly character. So please, take pride in your achievement.

Even though I have had my share of interesting experiences in my life, the main reason I was asked to speak here tonight is because of my involvement in Uganda over the last year and a half. My experience with Uganda has been nothing short of pure joy. One of the things that makes it so enjoyable is the fact that I get to work with children. Which brings me to an interesting story.

Now before I begin my story, I must tell you that much like most of you parents, but unlike most of you students, I do not have a myspace account. Some of you might even be asking the question, “What is myspace”. Myspace is a website where you can create a personal profile, upload pictures, chat with your friends and so on. It became popular after I was out of college, and because of this I tend to make fun of all of my friends who have created accounts and gotten sucked into the world of myspace. But that’s beside the point. One of my friends gave me a t-shirt with the phrase, “YOU LOOK BETTER ON MYSPACE”, poking fun at the many people who use myspace as an internet dating ring; BTW, not something I would recommend. Just by chance I was wearing this shirt when I was in Uganda and I came across a boy who was wearing a shirt that read, “DON’T HATE THE PLAYER HATE THE GAME”. I found this hilarious and I asked the boy if he knew what the shirt meant. He of course had no idea, and none of his friends did either. I asked him if he liked my shirt, and we decided to swap shirts right on the spot. In hind site, it was probably the fairest barter I have ever been a part of. Both parties walked away with a shirt of equal value, and both of us were given a cool story to tell. Later in my trip I wore that shirt to the airport and when I walked up to the counter, the airline worker, in a heavy Ugandan accent said to me, “What ever this game is, I shall hate it.” I said, “What?” And she responded, “Whatever this game is” and she pointed at my shirt, “I shall hate it SO much.” And I said, “Yes, hate the game”.

But on a more serious note, my work in Uganda has been the best time of my life. It’s crazy for me to look back at myself just 2 years ago, I didn’t have a passport, I hadn’t left the country in over a decade, and I had never been on a trip that wasn’t purely recreational. Two summers later, I now find that my work in Uganda has become one of the most important aspects of my life. I find myself asking the question, what the heck happened to me?

The truth is that when I first went to Uganda last summer I had no idea what I was doing or even why I was going. I went over there with 4 other people from my church with the intent of helping the children in the war torn city of Gulu. You see for the last 20 years war has been taking place in Northern Uganda. What makes this war particularly devastating is that the participants are largely children. With the ability to quickly train and brainwash children, soldiers between the ages of 8-14 are the preferred fighting force for the Lord’s Resistance Army of Northern Uganda. This is a problem not specific to Uganda, in fact it is estimated that there are currently over 300,000 child soldiers around the world, most of whom are on the continent of Africa. It was our goal to find a way to help and support these children.

One day while I was at a park in Gulu, I met a man named Denis who was playing soccer with some of the children. He was drawn to me by his fascination with the strange flying object I was throwing back and forth with some of the kids. The object I was throwing was a Frisbee, and Denis had never seen one of these before. The two of us just immediately clicked; we have similar in personalities, sense of humors and so on. He too is a teacher. But after being around Denis for the next week or so I quickly learned that he has a background that I can hardly relate to. Late one night I was talking to Denis about some of the men I had seen who’s lips and ears had been cut off by the Lord’s Resistance Army. Denis then showed me several bullet wounds he had in his legs. It turns out that Denis was a former child soldier himself.
Early in the morning of January 17th, 1994, the rebels came to his village and Denis was abducted at the age of 11. Men with guns walked into his hut and forced his mother to hand over him and his older brother, leaving his younger siblings behind. Over the next two years Denis was faced with an atrocious experience. What he remembers most is walking entire days from sunrise to sunset often without any food or water. When children tried to escape he would see them viciously killed. One of these victims was his own brother. Other people’s lips and ears were cut off, the girls were sexually violated, villages were burnt to the ground and he even witnessed people being cooked in pots. What disturbs me even more is to think that Denis has never been able to give me the full details of his abduction, as most of it is too graphic and horrific to account.

Fortunately after 2 years in the bush, Denis was able to escape from the Rebels and eventually return to his family. But even after returning home, he lost hope in life. It wasn’t until after a few years that he was able to turn his life around and see optimism in the world again. And it wasn’t until my visit last summer that he was ever able to even speak about his abduction…and believe me it wasn’t easy, on his part or mine. Today Denis has committed his life to helping the children of his community. As a teacher he is considered part of the highest social standing in Gulu. In turn, not only does he raise 2 young children of his own, but 4 of his younger siblings as well. As if this doesn’t keep him busy enough, I met Denis in the park where he was playing with children from the village and a few months later he organized a soccer team for them. This soccer team turned into 2, then 3 teams, and has recently spawned a women’s netball team, which is a game similar to soccer. The boys would play soccer without shoes and without shirts because they had absolutely no equipment outside of a single soccer ball. This summer I packed up numerous uniforms, cleats and other equipment and proudly delivered them to his team.
When people ask me the question, “Why are you so involved in Uganda?” it gives me great pause. I’d like to say something about my interest in social justice, or service to my church, or that it is a matter of conscience, but these would not be accurate. The truth is that it’s Denis, plain and simple, and the relationship we formed. He might possibly be my best friend. So to think that I have this great Utopian goal of fixing the country of Uganda as a whole is ridiculous. I have fallen in love with a few specific people and I can’t seem to get away from that community. I have no choice but to find a way to help them and their commitment to their own people.

Tonight our inductees are here to be welcomed into a club of great privilege and honor. Some would say that you are the leaders of tomorrow, but I would say that you are already leaders today because you are the leaders of Garner Magnet High School. You are the ones who have the ability to make a difference in people’s lives, both during and after high school. I’m not talking about changing the world per say. Large causes are great, don’t get me wrong, but there is no shortage of reward in changing the lives of people here and now. Your community is right in front of you, and you are so capable of meeting its needs. The leaders of our world are not only taking care of themselves and their families, but also are committing themselves to serving others. For me, I have found a community in Africa, but yours may be somewhere else.

There is no shortage of work to be done in our world, that’s foreshore. The important thing to realize is that you don’t have to hold a position of power, or be anyone special to start chipping away at these needs of others. There are people living on the streets of downtown Raleigh, because they have no home. People filling up the soup kitchens because they can’t afford to eat. And senior citizens who slide into depression because they have no one to talk to. All these problems are sitting right in front of us and the question remains, why haven’t they been solved? My cynical answer to that question is that we just don’t care. Or at least it’s easier for us just not to care. Because the truth is, if a good friend of yours was living out on the street, you would find a bed for him to sleep on. If you had a family member who couldn’t afford to eat, you would feed him. And if your mother were placed in a nursing home you would find a way to take care of her. We deal with the issues that touch our hearts and affect the people we care about. Looking at the students and parents tonight, I know that you are the people who care about all of these issues; we just need to find a way to build community with these people, whoever and wherever they are. From that you will grow to love and care for them. Whether it’s visiting a nursing home, or mentoring a child, people find ways to take care of the ones they care about. When charity and community service are brought up in conversation, it’s great to ask the question, “What can I do?”, but what you should really very deeply consider is the question, “Who do I love?” It is almost second nature to run to the aid of the people we love. Imagine a world where the privileged few, not only served the many needy, but also loved and cared for them.
If I can tell you any one thing tonight, it’s this. It’s not about Africa. And it’s certainly not about attempting to change the world. It’s about a smaller scale - finding people to love, and then loving them. Plain and simple.
I want to leave you tonight with a short story from a book I’ve recently read, and the story reads:

“A journalist was invited by friends to travel to Africa. He accepted the invitation, but as the departure date drew nearer, he became more and more apprehensive about the trip. When the day arrived, he went to the airport with every intention of canceling his plane ticket. Though his friends did their best to reason with him, the journalist seemed resolute in his decision. Then a shadow fell across their discussion, and standing tall above them was a holy man with an ancient, pointed beard and long black robes. The holy man addressed the journalist, saying, “I have a word for you from God.” The journalist, noticeably shaken by the man’s presence, nevertheless asked him to continue. The holy man said, “You will go Africa—and you will come back with a terrible disease.” Hearing this confirmed the journalist’s worst fears. The holy man went on to say, “The disease IS Africa. It will be in your blood for the rest of your life. And you will not be able to stay away.” With trepidation, the journalist boarded the plane and went to Africa. And went and went, and went—again, and again, and again.”

I obviously suffer from the same disease as the man in the story. It is my hope that a similar disease will inflict you as well. And if you find yourself diagnosed with such a disease, and you think about placing some of the blame on me, I just ask you to remember a simple phrase I learned about in Uganda, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” Thank you!

The New Waluk

I never noticed how drafty it is in my school. Four Hundred for Francis was a huge success and it has been a tremendous week. Around 30 classes participated, endless numbers of students have approached me in the hallway all week, and in the end we raised over $1000. On Monday Francis gets to go to school, and in a few years a village in Northern Uganda will get a much needed doctor, but today the blessing is all mine.

Going Bald At 30

30 years came with a bang. It happened to be yearbook picture day at work and license renewal day in my wallet, so I decided to do it up right. I believe the picture says it all. I welcome my new state of maturity and I had a great time with my friends celebrating this monumental occasion.

So what’s causing my hair to fall out? He’s the memo I’m sending out to all my co-workers on Monday morning. I’ll let you know how it all works out…or falls out for that matter.

Four Hundred For Francis

September 15th, 2008

Dear 2nd Block Teachers,

Francis is a young man in Northern Uganda with a dream to become a doctor. He is the younger brother to one of my dear friends and since last spring he has become pen pals with one of our own students, Erin Berry. Erin, along with the Invisible Children club and myself have committed to helping Francis fulfill his dream by providing a scholarship to put him through medical school. In order to do this we need to raise $400 by Friday.

Francis has been interviewed as a part of an upcoming documentary on the situation in Northern Uganda. You will have the opportunity to briefly meet Francis this week as we show highlights from his interview on the morning announcements.

The Invisible Children Club met last week, and addressed the question of, “how are we going to get this money by next Friday?” The consensus was that people would pay to see me shave off my beautiful, masculine, curly hair. My response was, “If you can get Francis into school, I will gladly shave my head.” So if the money comes in by the end of the school day this Thursday, my head will be shaved on Friday’s edition of the Trojan Vision.

I ask you to please encourage your second block classes to give to “Four Hundred For Francis”. You can send the money to me in room 207 and I will keep a daily tally for each class participating. The class that raises the most money will receive a very special prize; a bracelet from Uganda made by Francis himself for each student! These bracelets will arrive in October, and their sale is expected to help pay for Francis’ future years of education.

Any money in excess of this semester’s tuition bill will be used to pay for Francis’ winter semester and anything beyond that will go to the Schools for Schools campaign to help a high school in Northern Uganda.

Thank you so very much for your help.

Chris Waluk
Rm 207

Pressure

In the summer of 1998, Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire made history as they chased after Roger Maris’ heralded home run record. The great home run chase of ’98 was one of the most followed stories in the entire history of the sport. In September, when things were getting really interesting, espn would interrupt any program they had running in order to show McGwire or Sosa whenever they came up to bat. The stress from all the pressure became visibly clear in the way McGwire looked and acted. It was widely known that the summer Maris beat Babe Ruth’s home run record, his hair was falling out in clumps from all the stress. But when Sammy Sosa was asked by a reporter about how he was handling all this extreme pressure, he just smiled and said, “Pressure is washing cars and shining shoes to support my family in the Dominican Republic.”

For the last 10 years I have often remembered that quote in order to keep things in perspective and to realize that other people have much greater problems than myself. Recently however, I am starting to relate to the thin, young Sosa whose mother would send him out working in order feed his siblings. In a situation like that it’s not hunger that causes stress. It’s knowing that if you fail, your siblings go hungry. If you don’t make any money, you’ve let your family down. Now that’s pressure.

As I try more and more to free myself from the vice of money, I keep learning how difficult this really can be. It seems like everybody needs it. If you have a dream to change society, there is probably a charity out there waiting for some money in order to make that dream happen.

So what’s stressing me out? At the moment it’s a boy by the name of Nyero Francis.

Francis is a 21 year old Ugandan who wants to be a doctor. He did not qualify for a government scholarship, but was accepted into a medical university in Gulu. Francis needs to pay about $450 to cover his semester costs before they will admit him into school. The semester begins in a little more than a week. I told Francis' brother that my club at school was going to support him, but it didn’t take long before I realized that Francis had put his entire faith in his future on me. If I didn’t send him $450 within a week, his aspirations for a meaningful future, for the time being at least, were going to get squashed.

I have a plan to get the money, so everything will be fine. But as I meet more and more poor people, their financial woes are starting to get to me. It seems like everybody has a need, and everybody has a dream that they just can’t seem to achieve on their own. And the more you get to know these people, the more you feel their struggle and the more pressure you feel to be their solution. It’s not a 10 year old boy shining shoes to feed his family, but it can still be enough to make your hair fall out.

My Prayer For The Week

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

Amen.

A Fransciscan Blessing

Do Martyr's Still Exist?

Now I’ve heard stories like that of Jim Elliot who was killed trying to share the gospel to the isolated Quichua tribe in Ecuador, but that was over 50 years ago. Do things like this still happen? There are fewer and fewer isolated tribes like the Quichua, and if you’re anything like me, you never hear of missionaries dying out in the field any more. With this in mind, I've decided to share a few of the great stories I’ve recently come across. It certainly is not my ambition to become a martyr, but if that was my destiny I would hope that my story would inspire others to continue the work that I gave my life to. So for this reason, I want to remember two martyrs who I believe have given their lives to incredible causes.

Unlike most people in America, most people in Nairobi, Kenya know the story of Father Kaiser, a Catholic priest from Minnesota. For more than 30 years, Father Kaiser served as a missionary in Kenya. As tribal hatred and violence grew in the 90’s, he began to collect information on specific acts of violence that he suspected to be politically inspired. The government denied these accusations as they had even denied that AIDS was a problem in Kenya.

Father Kaiser’s protests got him arrested, beaten, and thrown far out into the bush, but his real downfall began when he came to the aid of 2 schoolgirls in the summer of ‘99. The girls claimed to have been raped by a government minister. Father Kaiser raised the matter with various high officials and was first rebuffed and eventually put under pressure to cease publicizing the facts. When he kept at it, they attempted to deport him. With the intervention of US Ambassador Jonnie Carson (for real), he was eventually granted a new work permit. But In August 2000, Father Kaiser’s corpse was found on the side of the road. He was murdered. Less than a week after his death the charges of rape were dropped.

Before his death, Father Kaiser wrote a book about his experience in Kenya, entitle If I Die. In it he warns:

““I want all to know that if I disappear from the scene, because the bush is vast and hyenas many, that I am not planning any accident, nor, God forbid, any self destruction. Instead, I trust in a good guardian angel and in the action of grace.”

Clearly Father Kaiser knew the dangers of what he was getting into, and yet he stilled sacrificed himself in order to give volume to the voices of the weak and oppressed.

I am amazed and inspired by Father Kaiser, and I wonder how many people out there have the heart and the faith of this man. It was 7 years later when things finally got crazy with the Kenyan government. Initially I was in support of the government of Kenya in this conflict, but in lieu of stories like this, it is much easier to understand how widespread violence can break out among seemingly peaceful people. Corruption and oppression breeds violence. Let’s not forget what Father Kaiser gave his life to.

Another great story is that of Amy Biehl. After graduating from Stanford, in 1993, she was a Fulbright exchange scholar in Cape Town, South Africa. As a volunteer in voter registration for South Africa’s first all-race elections approaching in April, 1994, Amy had driven three African friends home to their black township as a favor. Seeing her white face, a mob of African boys preyed on her and showered her car with stones. Amy was dragged from the car and as her friends pleaded with the assailants, yelling, “She’s a comrade!” she was viciously beaten to the ground, her head smashed with a brick and she was stabbed in the heart.

At first glance, Amy’s death would appear to be the tragic waste of a great young life. But much like Martin Luther King Jr., Jesus himself, and 11 of the 12 disciples, Amy became much more powerful through death than she could have ever been through life.

Four young men were convicted for Amy’s murder and sentenced to 18 years in prison. After 3 years, they appeared before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and pleaded that their motive was political and not racial. The murderer’s freedom would have been impossible without the assent of Amy’s parents, but in 1998 all four boys were pardoned. Although the mother of one of the killers was so disgusted with her son that she could not face him, the Biehls embraced them. Amy’s father shook the hands of the murderers and said, “The most important vehicle of reconciliation is open and honest dialogue...we are here to reconcile a human life which was taken without an opportunity for dialogue. When we are finished with this process we must move forward with linked arms.”

The Biehl’s created the Amy Biehl Foundation, a multimillion dollar charity dedicated to empowering people who are oppressed. 2 of the boys, Ntombeko Peni and Easy Nofomela were given jobs by the Biehl’s and to this day still hold salaried positions for the foundation. Monday, August 25^th marks the 15^th year anniversary of Amy’s death. I will celebrate her life that day.

So, do you know any modern day martyrs?

Livin Cheap

If you're anything like me, you spend way TOO much money on food. In an effort to simply my life and my spending, I thought it would be an appropriate step to start eating in rather than out. I soon learned that Waluk and cooking just don't mix. I would probably start courting a nice domesticated girl before I learn to cook a meal 6 nights a week. I once had the ambition of becoming a freegan, someone who doesn't pay money at all to eat, but unless I put myself in the community of other freegans, this just isn't going to happen. I even once considered primate food, but that's neither here nor there. Then I realized that if you hit up the right bar/restaurant at the right time, you can come across a pretty good deal. So now I'm on a mission to find a meal deal for every night of the week.

I should mention that it was once my goal to find $25 cent wings 5 nights a week (this never panned out), but this time I'm looking for something more hearty and healthy than wings, but on that same kind of a budget. Subway's $5 footlongs, or Hi-5's $5 menu is good place to start the brainstorming, but I'm going to set the bar just a little higher than that. Good meals that I can buy with one Abe Lincoln, including drink. Here's my list for the week. Please help me complete this!!!

Monday:
Moe's $5 Joey and a drink (retail value of $7.95). Bring a flask of George Dickel to irish up your coca-cola and drink cheap all night.
Jax $.35 wings
Chick-fil-a, free chick sandwich if you can show up with a church bulletin.
Pint night at the Flying Saucer

Tuesday:
Harris Teeter $2.50 subs. These are high caliber, made to order.
Snoopy's $.99 hot dog day
Free snack table at the Flying Saucer...too bad beer is >$3 a drink.

Wednesday:
Person St Pharmacy 2 Dogs for $.99. This is the best deal of all, but the grill closes at 5:30.
Jax $.35 wings

Thursday:
Help!
1/2 priced sushi blues after 11pm is not that great of a deal....

Friday:
Harris Teeter $3.99 12-inch subs. 6-inch is probably enough, but go in with a friend.

Saturday:
Free beer at the Carolina Brewing Company in Holly Springs at 1pm. That's better than a meal.

Sunday:
Stool Pigeon's 1/2 price menu
The Goat $1 mystery beer

Any night after 10pm:
Mojo's $1 burgers


Alright, upon review, this list is less than desirable. Please chime in with any good deals you know of. With your help, we can compile the ultimate go to list for any time during the week.

An American in Africa

I have a friend in Sudan and I recently sent him a fantastic book called The Unheard, along with a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition (you have to read the book to understand this one). The book is about a young, deaf American's two years of Peace Corps service in Zambia. Upon finishing the book here are my friend's thoughts. Comments please.



i finished The Unheard on Tuesday. i liked it a lot! the people of Mununga in Zambia are SO much like the Sudanese in a lot of ways. probably it’s because of the level of poverty in the two places. Sudan is a bit more impoverished than what Mununga sounds like but a lot of the same things happen. a lack of a reliable justice system leads to Mob Justice. women are still considered assets, second class citizens and are still sold off for marriage. People are VERY tribally biased...the Sudanese are just terrible with that. the infant mortality and maternal mortality rates are astronomical.


reading the book i felt a noticeable level of despair creep in. i mean, it affirmed a lot of the frustrations i have with Africa. it seems like no matter what you try to do on this continent there are evil and corrupt men who simply won’t accept good things. we work with a lot of subcontractors and individuals in church leadership and i can’t implicitly trust a single one of them. not because of gut feelings or anything, but because we’re constantly burned whenever we try to trust people. i was talking to a guy who grew up in East Africa and works with us. we agreed that it seems like nobody has any hope that a better Africa can be built, so every opportunity they have to cheat the system, to cheat other people they take. they are interested only in making sure that at least their family is taken care of. it’s tough to consider that many people in the international community believe Africa will never be any better than it is right now.


take Mauritania for instance, a West African country north of Senegal. i read on BBC yesterday that after one year in office, the first popularly elected President in a free and fair election since the country’s independence from France in 1960 was ousted in a military coup this week. i mean, as soon as Justice plays out and things look like they’ll be OK some power hungry, greedy, irresponsible sons of bitches decide they want it for themselves. but hey, it’s job security for us in International Relief. i know, not cool. i’d much rather live in Africa promoting a booming tourist economy than propping up the innocent citizens of failed states who are spat on by their governments and ignored by most of the rest of the world. what’s their hope? only the love of Christ. i guess that’s ultimately why i’m here.


anyway, such a good read! i now see how the swimsuit magazine fits in. funny stuff. it’s so true though about the amount of sexual energy there is out here. it seems like sex and poverty are the two unifying themes that run throughout Africa.

Dog Sitting

So as fate would have it, after posting a blog about how twenty somethings shouldn’t own dogs, here I am pet sitting for the week. My girlfriend left me her dog, Maggie, as she went up to Ohio to hopefully get people to give her money in order to go save the world. In the past few days Mags and I have spent some quality time together, and I haven’t spent one second inside of a bar or had a night on the town since her arrival. So I stand proudly as my own best example of shameful dog ownership.

Have I ever owned or even lived with a dog? -No. Have I seen The Dog Whisperer? -Yes. That hour and a half of my life more than qualifies me as “pack leader” for the week. In just two days I’ve trained Maggie to walk along side of me perfectly. Beyond that, I’ve accomplished nothing. She’ll follow me around the house obsessively, then I will turn and call her over to me and she just stares back and then runs away when I approach her. How do you train a dog to come when you call it? I’ve always gotten a good laugh at people, namely Sam Ed, who call and call their dogs to no avail, but now I am one of those people. I really could be the most shameful of dog owners.

So what’s intrigued me the most about Mags this week is her obsessive routines; most notably her pooping ritual. I’ve broken her habit of constantly pulling on her leash, but right before she poops she will pull on the leash, dip her shoulder and circle counterclockwise 2 times. This gives you a good warning incase you want to pull her out of it and avoid a shitting. If you yank the leash at any point before she squats, she will abandon her quest to poop, hence my inability to rid her of this habit. Once she poops, she will take about 4 steps forward and then claw at the ground as if she is trying to burry her poo, even though she is typically clawing nowhere near her poo and she only kicks up the smallest amount of grass. I was quite proud of myself yesterday when I saw Maggie circling around and was able to bag her poo straight from the anus. To my chagrin, she dropped two more logs, but I was still impressed with myself.

Here’s a video of Maggie displaying one of her illogical fears. The two things she fears in my house are large cardboard boxes and air vents. Rest a toy on a large box, or a vent and it’ll drive her crazy. What a weirdo. Does anyone know a good dog therapist?

Weddings Save American Economy

I recently stood up in a friend’s wedding. It was only the third wedding I have stood up in, but my lack of understanding of the tradition is growing and growing. Aside from my philosophical holdup with the bridal party in general, the giant draining hole in my bank account has become a much greater concern for me. Not only did I have to sacrifice 4 ½ days to party, I paid for it dearly. Let’s examine some of these expenses:

Tuxedo: $150

Golf at bachelor party: $38

Bar tab at bachelor party: $32

Groomsmen round of golf: $32

3 nights in a hotel: $125

modest wedding gift: $45

Gas in and out of town: $40

Beer/food/miscellaneous: $100

That’s a total of $562. Now, I’ve never heard of anyone turning down a request to be in a wedding due to financial needs, but why not? And I got off easy. Some of the other groomsmen flew in from out of town, probably at a cost of about $300, and at the end of the bachelor party, about 20 guys wound up at the strip club and from what I heard, each of them spent anywhere between $100 and $400 there. All this money in the celebration of the union between two people, with a statistical 50% chance of complete failure. I had no duties outside of standing straight, smiling for pictures, and of course paying for my tuxedo. At no point did I need to speak, gesture or even help out in any way. I did get introduced at the reception, and even got paired up with a very attractive bridesmaid, but I suppose any time you drop down a small pile of c-notes, you should be treated with some level of earned respect.

This would not have been so difficult on me had I not just sent an email to a Ugandan friends explaining how I just didn’t have the money to help supplement his schooling. At a whopping $70 a semester, it will now surely require even further faith in Jesus to get me to heaven. “Sorry buddy, I just don’t have the money to give to you at this moment. Good luck…uhh…eating…I guess.”

Considering that I was just one of ten groomsmen, the wedding party of 20 people easily accrued over $10,000 in operating expenses. I’m sure this might sound a little selfish on my part considering that the families of the bride and groom easily doubled this amount of money in funding the wedding and rehearsal dinner. Then when you consider the guest list of around 250 people, largely from out of town, and taking a glance at the extensive registry of the couple, I’d say it’s a conservative ballpark guestimation that somewhere between $50,000 to $100,000 was put into this wedding somewhere along the line. And considering that the combined take home income this past year of the proud couple was surely less than half of this, the whole production seems a little ridiculous. The real winner in this wedding was not the bride and groom, but rather the small town of about 20,000 people where the wedding was held.

In defense of all this, I must say that I had an absolute blast of a time over the entire weekend. It was great to be part of the whole experience of family coming together and letting loose in celebration. My questions lie within the institution itself. Let’s remember that this wedding was performed under the supervision of a Christian church. The bride and groom were forced to take a nine week premarital course and even sign a vow of chastity. I’m not sure what went on in the premarital class, other than discussions on budgeting as a couple and waiting for the wedding night, but it concerns me that churches actually encourage people to get married in such an extravagant fashion. The pastor who conducted the wedding even told me, “there’s next to nothing in the bible on weddings”. So my question is, “Where did all this come from?”

The same pastor told me that the tradition of the groom not seeing the bride before the ceremony stems from arranged marriages. There was a concern that if the groom saw the bride for the first time before the wedding, he might bail and flea from town. There are countless traditions like this that are harmless details of any wedding: the first kiss, the cutting of the cake, the tossing of the bouquet and boutonniere, the toast, and even the bride wearing white. But there are also some traditions that are a little less innocent, namely the ring. It was tradition, and still is in some cultures, for the groom to make a financial sacrifice to the bride’s family (a dowry) in order to display his commitment to his bride. This tradition is out of hand in some places around the world as I have heard of so many fathers selfishly exploiting their daughter’s husband for as much money as he possibly can. The strange irony in America is that the father of the bride now seems to be the person who is left with the largest financial burden when his daughter is taken away in marriage. Somewhere down the line of American tradition, this financial sacrifice of the groom turned into the purchase of a ring, and under the marketing of De Beers, the ring turned into a diamond ring. Somewhere around 100 years ago this became the norm, but in the 1940’s De Beers realized that most couples were selling their engagement rings years after their marriage, creating a large second hand market for diamonds. De Beers then launched the most successful marketing campaign of the 20^th century; “A diamond is forever”. The rest is history, as I (and probably you) can’t think of a single American couple to get married without a diamond. As a society people are finally becoming aware of the turmoil caused by “blood diamonds” or diamond companies in general, but what’s amazing to me is that there has been no shortage in the demand for diamonds. The diamond ring stands as the single most important, fundamental detail in the American wedding.

All this coming from an unmarried blogger. Whenever the day comes when I find that special someone and we decide to tie the knot, I’d like to think that maybe we could do something completely different. No wedding showers, no registry, no flowers, no giant cake, no tuxedos and especially no diamond ring. All I want is a beautiful bride, my family and friends, and plenty of wine. We know that these simple things were in the bible and for me anything beyond this would most likely only cloud up such a grand celebration. Make this my official goodbye to any aspiration of getting married the American way. My apologies to the American economy.

Remembering Alaska

Once again, is there a better blog entry than one taken straight from the journal? Probably not. So here it is. Written on the airplane as it took me home from my month long journey through Alaska (Pictures here).

July 15^th, 2008

Done. Another chapter of my life gone like the wind. It breaks my heart to leave. And yet there is nothing here that I miss outside of the very lifestyle I got to live for such a short period of time. Drifting in and out of cities, out of homes, riding by the seat of my pants and meeting loving, caring people all along the way.

“When you want something in life, you just gotta reach out and grab it.”

-Chris McCandless

I wish I knew what made me tick. Adventure, people, service, love…I don’t know. I was thinking that I came up here looking for something, and for a short while I thought I had found it. Something within uncertainty and community, between struggle and passion, that’s where life is. I see it in my friends Jessie and Mitch up in Homer. They live paycheck to paycheck, with hardly any possessions, struggling to find money and work, and even housing, but they have security within their friends old and young. It’s amazing to see. I want that!

In the introduction of “What Is The What” the Lost Boy author says:

“This book is a form of struggle, and it keeps my spirit alive to struggle. To struggle is to strengthen my faith, my hope and my belief in humanity. Since you and I exist, together we can make a difference!”

-Valentino Achak Deng

Life has been too easy for me. My struggle has been to keep up with the Jones’s, and to continually fall above or below the mark as I measure my personal success. I’m done with it! I don’t want to pay for things with money, but with friendship. I want to rely on the generosity and good will of my friends; that is the true test of your good will. And above all that, I want to be a giver. To spend my money on others and limit my possessions to only what is given to me from others.

I need to go back and learn to entertain with food and song and not with television. As I look back, I stayed with five CouchSurfing hosts in Alaska, four of them had no TV and the one who did have a TV had no cable. That’s how it’s done. There’s too much to live for to just sit back and watch from your couch.

So I read Leah’s blog today and she is now free from all of her possessions. She got to do this in dramatic fashion, with everything laid out on her front lawn. I suppose I will never really get to have this experience since my lawn sale wouldn’t amount to much. I moved to Carolina in a Ford Focus packed tight, whereas Leah moved down in an oversized Uhaul packed to the ceiling. But what a great day for her! Everything is behind her now, and once she sells her car she’ll be completely free. Free to move, free to travel, free to love. She finished her blog with a quote from Chris McCandless. How fitting. Cool girl, right?

When I get home tomorrow we’ll go out and celebrate Bill’s last day in the American workforce, as he has quit his job to work for Lemonade International full time. What a celebration it will be. I am jealous of Bill and of Leah, and my prayer today is not for them, but for me. That passion and opportunity will cross paths in my life as well.

And as for my lasting image of Alaska, go to the top of Flattop mountain on the outskirts of Anchorage and take your pick: the view of the city from up high, the setting sun at 11:30pm in the north, the view of Denali (Mt. McKinley), or seeing all three of these images blending together right next to each other. But my choice sits on a small rock at the top of the mountain peak; love rock...LOVE! Once man's graffiti is another man's lasting image of this great wonderful state. How perfect.

For all my female fans

About a year ago I was traveling across the country on a veggie oil powered school bus. I kept a journal and I read one of my entries today. After visiting an old college friend in Texas, I was inspired to explore the world of dating and marriage. What follows is a small portion of what was deemed publishable. I hope you enjoy it.


Taken from a June 21, 2007 journal entry:


In my 28 years here on earth, I think I’ve finally come up with the idea of the perfect girl for me, but there does not seem to be an abundance of these girls. My criteria is simple, yet picky.

First, the girl must NOT be the owner of a dog. Anyone who is in their 20’s needs to be out enjoying their life, giving back to their community, not their pet. If a girl has succumb to owning a demanding pet at such a young age, it is a sure sign that she has sold out to her need for security and will never dare to dream deep.

Second, the girl must me adventurous. I don’t want to marry a lush, but I would much rather enjoy the ups and downs than the boredom of always making the conservative decision. Adventurous means taking risks, not always being responsible, and not being afraid to be bold. Small signs of adventure are drinking, smoking, cursing, and staying up late at night. Large signs of adventure are traveling to foreign countries, changing careers or quitting a job. You’re probably saying, “These all sound like negatives, not positives for someone you should date.” I couldn’t agree any less. Maybe it should be noted that I could never marry a non Christian, so the sample of girls we are looking at has just shrunk down to the ones you’d find at church on a Sunday morning. The kind of girl who goes on mission trips and wants to change the world; a Christian girl who is less concerned about rules and more concerned with making things happen.

Third, the girl must be logical. I don’t need to be with someone who thinks like me, but I do want to be with someone who can talk with me on the deepest of levels. There’s nothing worse that trying to explain your political philosophy to a girl who has no understanding of politics. I don’t need to find a conservative girl, but I need to find someone who at least understands what a conservative is. Of my 3 criteria here, this has been the most difficult one to work around. I am continually amazed by how many Christian girls are fixated on family and culinary skills, and how few I’ve met who have more than a juvenile understanding of philosophy, economics and politics.

So I’m left to ask, do I still go out and seek this type of girl, or do a change my criteria and start looking for a homemaker? Maybe I just don’t understand love as I should. I remember reading the single Donald Miller’s idealistic image of what his love for his future spouse should look like, and all I can think is, “isn’t their more out there?” I’ve been accused of wanting a travel companion, more than a spouse, but seriously, isn’t there more out there? Can’t two people live for serving the Lord together more than they do to serve each other? There have been two girls in my life who I have considered marrying. In both circumstances, my life was completely wrapped up in those relationships. I’ve finally come to a point in my life where I live for the world outside me, and I don’t ever want to give that up. I want to find someone to share that with me. So am I crazy?

Probably.

Look out world, here I come

Allow myself to introduce ....myself. It's been a few years of holding out, but now I am ready to join the bloggers. Look out world, it's time to welcome another cynic to the Internets. I promise not to hold back too much.