If you want to know what it is like to be a celebrity...

Most of you know that our house is directly in front of the neighborhood park.  Most nights we take a walk after dinner around the block, and on the way back talk to the neighbors and kids outside.  Last night, as we stepped out of the front gate to begin our walk, we were greeted to chants of, ¨Tigre¨ from the kids in the park.  Tigre is Drew´s nickname in the neighborhood, which means ¨tiger.¨ When Drew acted like he didn´t hear, the kids got desperate and started chanting his real name (in Spanish).  The further he walked away from the kids, the louder they screamed, and a few even ran up to us.  When we stopped at the end of our walk in the park, I counted at least 11 kids all crowded around Drew jumping on him asking to play with them.

Their favorite game is ¨Tigre¨ where Drew acts like a tiger and chases all the kids around the park.  When they get tired and all pile on a park bench together, the next game is daring eachother to touch Drew´s beard.  Most men here can´t grow facial hair, so the beard is something quite strange to most kiddos.

I am rich

One of the most important things I learned in college, I learned my freshman year.  I learned that by being a female, having a college education, and owning a laptop, I am considered in the top 1% of the world's wealth.  But I feel like I have only recently begun to digest what that means and implies in my life.  Living in Latin America has helped that a lot.

As many of you know, Drew and I live here in Bolivia, and deal with issues of poverty, injustice, and violence on a daily basis.  I have always patted myself on the back for the work we do, rationalizing in my mind that because I live in a "third world country" and work from 9-5 each weekday with these issues that it might be enough.  Really, it has only allowed me to point the finger at others who I deem do less than I do about these critical issues.  But when I take a walk with my dog in the evenings and see the drunks out in the park in front of my house, the house next to mine that consists of  pieces of cardboard and tin nailed together, or hear the kids talk about the abuse and violence they experience in their houses these things don't seem to go away.  The line "love your neighbor as yourself" seems to take on a new meaning.  Taking a walk at home in Chattanooga, TN didn't seem to challenge me as much as it does here, yet I am also aware that the same issues I see here are very relevant on the "other side/the black side" of Brainerd Road.  

Yesterday, I sat in on a meeting at work for a few minutes.  It was a meeting of indigenous leaders who were talking about helping their communities who find themselves suffering violence, injustice, and poverty.  One leader expressed an idea he had.  Marcial is a man who has fought hard during his life.  He has fought for the life of his people, the Mojeños, their cultural identity, their land that is being unjustly taken from them by the government, and his faith.  If you were to read a biography of Marcial´s life, you wouldn´t find much hope.  He has been physically beaten, persecuted because of his ideas, and falsely accussed of trying to overthrow the governments plans.  But he continues to fight hard for his people, and more importantly his faith which he finds integral to everything he does.  Marcial dreams that his people will one day be able to live full lives where they can be 100% Mojeño and 100% Christian.  He dreams that the hope of the Gospel will not only be a percentage of Mojeño evangelicals souls saved, but also an example of communities striving everyday to live out the Kingdom of God here on earth demonstrating peace, love, and justice. 

What struck me about Marcial´s idea was not so much the idea itself, but his reasoning for it.  As a man who has struggled and fought his whole life, he is sickened by the simple fact that there are people in this world who have more than enough to eat, who have all the luxuries of life, and who act like everyone else in the world lives as they do.  Marcial wanted to write a letter to a certain group of celebrities asking them if they even realized that there were people who lived without food to eat, without any luxuries, and who have no one who is willing to stand beside them and treat them as a fellow human being.  As he began explaining he details of his idea, I began making a list in my mind of "those people" who I would like to write to myself.  Then, I began to think about it, and I remembered what I had been told in college, how I am considered in the top 1% of the world's wealth.  

As white, middle class America, we are really good putting ourselves in a bubble with people who look, think, and act like us.  We are good at always pointing out the people who have more than us, and patting ourselves on the back for the bag of clothes we don't use anymore that we give away each year.  But what we forget is that we also have.  Marcial isn't asking for the rich to overwhelm his people with material wealth.  Marical's plea is that his fellow brothers and sisters who come from more affluent situations can live out Micah 6:8, "He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.  And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and walk humbly with your God."

In order to do this, maybe we, as white middle class America need to take the first step in realizing that we are rich.  Let us stop pointing the finger at others who have more than us.  Why don't we wake up and realize that WE are rich!  I am not just talking about the numbers my bank account shows, but I also have good education, I have connections to a whole network of other white, middle class Americans who have different giftings/abilities, I have the ability to get involved in almost any issue that I want to, I can go and talk with people in my government about things I think could be better, I have a family support system, and so many other things.

I am thankful for this time in Bolivia, it has made me uncomfortable, uneasy, and feel completely out of place.    It has gotten me outside of my white, middle class American bubble.  I still don't have all the answers, I still have a long ways to go.  But being here has helped me through the first step of beginning relationships with people who are different from me, so that I can understand the majority of people don't live, look, or act like me. Now I see that there is much work to be done.  

What does it mean to act justly?  There are many ways, but one area I have recently been convicted in is when I go clothes shopping, in 99%  (my estimate) of stores in the States, our clothes are the product of unfair wages, poor working conditions, and are many times made by taking advantage of people in poorer countries.  Is it a just thing for me to buy those clothes?  

What does it mean to love mercy? Are my actions towards my neighbor demonstrating mercy, or simply pity?  This one is hard for me, really hard.

What does it mean to walk humbly with my God?  I am thankful that the rest of the world doesn't look, think, or act like me.  I am thankful that I have much to learn, and that I can walk alongside my Bolivian brothers and sisters to learn more about God together.

We have a lot to give up as white, middle class Americans, and the first is our pride and fear.  Next is beginning those relationships with people who are different than us.  Then we can begin to see a bigger picture of what it means to live out Micah 6:8.

Why are we here?

Even though we are spending the month of December writing end of the year reports, abuse and violence cases still come in.  The women who have shown up on our doorstep recently have been in some really desperate situations.  Perhaps, it is hard for the psychologists who have to put their other work on hold, but for me it is an important reminder as I am consumed with all the details of running the office.  Each time we have a woman come in, I can put a face to my reasons for organizing folders and distributing out the weekly cleaning duties.

One recent case has really grabbed my attention. A lady "Maria" comes in and reports abuse from her husband.  We do psychological reports on the lady, her husband, and their children.  Then we take her to file a report at the police office.  In the several weeks that follow, we follow up closely with the case, continuing to provide support as the family has to decide what their next step is.

Last week, we got a call from Maria, who was hiding in her bathroom because her husband had come home in a bad mood.  He had apparently beaten on her, and she in return had thrown a brick at his head.  Maria was in a desperate situation, and had no idea how to respond or what she could do. So we took a police officer to the house where we seperated the couple and talked to each alone.  By the time our team had finished talking to both parties, we found something out that had never been shared before: this couple used to go to Church together.  Things got bad in their marriage, they went to their pastor, but he turned them down saying he was too busy for marital issues.  Soon their marriage was getting worse and worse, and with no one to turn to for help, they ended up becoming violent toward eachother in front of their children.  Now, it has come to the point where they can't see any reconciliation in sight.

Seeing Maria walk into our office, along with the other women, helps me to remember why we came to Bolivia to help this office get started, and why I volunteered to organize papers full time.  There is so much need and I am thankful for this time to support my Bolivian brothers and sisters.  But, as I think about this situation, I can't simply pat myself on the back for simply being here.  There is still more to do.  It also reminds me that we all, like the pastor, have turned our backs to situations that are right before us.  Whether big or small, we always have an opportunity to speak encouragement to those around us.

Getting out can be a good thing

Yesterday, Drew and I walked down the road to the Ayoreo community to go to Church.  As we walked along, dripping sweat at 7:30 am, I remembered an email I had received the day before from our Pastor in Chattanooga  about beginning the advent season.  Yesterday the first advent candle was lit at our Church, as I am sure it was accompanied with Christmas hymns and the sanctuary full of poinsettias.  It really seemed a million miles away.  I miss Sundays of advent, watching different families from our Church read from Scripture and light a candle.  It is hard to believe that somewhere else right now in the world people are putting on extra layers to go outside, going to holiday parties, and worrying about fninishing the year well.  Here we are trying to put on as few clothing items as possible, enjoying an abundance of mangos that are falling off the trees in our yard, praying that each mosquito bite we get won´t give us dengue, and trying to figure out how to write our end of the year reports for work.

As much as I miss things from home during the holiday season, I am thankful for a change of pace.  Getting outside of what we are used to really makes one think about why we do the things we do.  In the States, those things so often become a routine that we forget their real importance.

This holiday season, I want to make a goal of celebrating the advent season and focusing on how relevant it is, no matter where I may find myself.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving!?!

Things haven't slowed down much yet.  For that, we are holding out for December.  Drew had just arrived last week from his jungle adventure, washed some clothes, and we packed our bags for a weekend trip to Cochabamba.  When we got to the terminal, we quickly realized not all the buses were headed to Cochabamba, and heard rumors of blockades.  We found a bus that was going to take the old road to Cochabamba.  Instead of the 12 hours promised us, it ended up being over 15 hours, which is a long time to sit in one place with no food, water, or bathroom.  Nonetheless, we made it to Cochabamba in time for Drew to make it to the university to get some paperwork done, have lunch with some old classmates, and then head up the side of the mountain to our beloved neighborhood.  

This weekend was the Church's anniversary.  With events for 3 consecutive nights, we didn't have time to do much else.  We did get out for a bit with one of my former students and her family, and I got a trip to the market in too.  Since our last visit, two dear friends have had babies, so we got to see and hold the babies which was really special.   

On Sunday afternoon, we called the bus terminal to see if the blockade was still an issue,  and it was.  NO buses were leaving.  Now both highways were closed to Santa Cruz, but not only were they closed, but the small towns were fighting amongst each other.  So we headed to the airport to see if we could get a flight out.  There weren't any until Monday morning, so we splurged on a mini vacation in a nice hotel room and vegged out in front of a tv all night long.  It felt really nice to actually sleep under a blanket, and to wake up to a cool morning with a view of the mountains.  Not to mention, there are NO bugs in Cochabamba, although I still found myself swatting at the air, simply out of habit.  

I am really thankful for that time Drew and I were able to spend together.  It seems like since September, he and I have been flip flopping travels, seeing each other for a day or two at a time before one of us takes off again.  Tomorrow, Drew is off on this last trip for the year (for work), but will only be gone 3 days.  

Here in Santa Cruz, we are busy finishing up the year, and looking forward to next year.  That really just means reports, reports, and more reports for work.  Next week is Jared's, our intern, last week with us, after 6 months.  He will be missed around the office.  

Aside from that, we are enjoying the wonders of living in the tropics.  With fresh mangoes, limes, and coconuts in our yard right now, and pineapples (the sweetest you will EVER eat), avacados, passion fruit, strawberries, blackberries, and other new tropical fruits we are learning about, Drew and I are enjoying this spring and summer already.  

Unfortunately, summer also means it will get really hot, and there will be LOTS of bugs.  The tropical bugs are more varied that the tropical fruits, it seems.  

Today, no one is allowed to leave their house because it is census day.  Supposedly, they are doing a nationwide census in one day, going door to door.  We will see how that turns out.  Tomorrow, we head back to work, and Drew is off to a Guarani Church conference.  It seems so strange that tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the States, it feels more like the 4th of July here.  I am hoping that will help us to not miss our family and the yummy food too much tomorrow.  

Home Again

I just arrived home this morning after our trip to visit the Mojeño and Yuracaré people who live on the Sécure river. The trip turned out to be both longer and shorter than expected since we had to wait 3 whole days in Trinidad before finally getting out on the river so overall time gone was longer, but time actually with the people we wanted to visit was cut short. But that is life in rural Bolivia. Monday morning Jared and I arrived ready to get on the river but we were delayed all day trying to obtain the correct permission to transport all the gas we needed up the river. The government has made it impossible for people n the Sécure river to obtain gasoline because they have resisted the government´s plans to build a highway through their territory. So we actually did not get the permission but decided to go with all the gas anyways and just trust God that if these people need this resource that we would make it through without getting caught by the Navy boats patrolling the river. 

Tuesday and Wednesday it rained and the road down to the river where our boat was tied is impassable when very wet. During the wait we were able to meet a couple of times with the president of CIDOB (Bolivian Indigenous People´s Confederation, the umbrella organization that organizes all the local and regional indigenous organizations in the Amazon and lowlands areas of Bolivia) and with Pedro Nuni, a Mojeño member of the national congress who just renounced his position so he can run for governor of Beni department (where we were) in the emergency elections being held in January after the national government succeeded in deposing the current governor who was from an opposing political party. There is a lot of suspision that the governement is fixing the elections so they can gain power in Beni and use that as a sign of approval by the people that they do want the highway and they can go ahead and build it. Pedro is running in order to defend his people and their territory. Anyways, Marcial Fabricano, the Mojeño man we have been collaborating with introduced us and we were able to explain to each of these men who we were and what our mission in this area is.

So what is our mission? Well, I explained most of it in the last blog post, but in essence this region of the country is in the middle of a huge territorial conflict which over the years has caused much division and conflict even within the villages in the territory and now nationally. Because of this conflict along with many other issues such as the dependency the first missionaries created here, the church in the area has ceased to exist. So we were going to assess the state of the Church and the believers there, to encourage them in their faith, to encourage them to begin to reunite and meet together once again, and beyond the church to call all the people on the river to remember their Creator in the middle of this conflict and to remember that this battle is not just against flesh and blood. 

So Thursday we were finally off. We loaded over 220 pounds each of rice, pasta, sugar, 40 pounds of salt, and 220 liters of gasoline to give to people as we went along up river inviting them to our meeting, as well as some other stuff for us to eat on the way. It was a good thing we brought some food to eat too, because we were on the river for 50 hours, travelling day and night stopping briefly in 6 or 7 communities for Marcial to share with them this dream he has of reviving the church and redirecting the struggle for their territory, before arriving at our final destination of Puerto San Lorenzo. Check this out to see on a map where we were. 

We stayed in Puerto San Lorenzo Saturday, Sunday, and half of Monday where we spoke with many community members as well as many of the Christians who had followed us to Puerto after we invited them to come. Beside all the individual conversations and home visits, Sunday afternoon we met with all the Christians who had arrived (about 15 adults from 4 different communities along the river) and had a time of reflection and encouragement. I had been told that it had been a while since the people on this river had heard the Word of God, but one woman, in tears, told us that I was the first pastor (I do not tell them I am a pastor, but a White guy with a Bible qualifies in their mind) to visit them and share the Word in 8 years. She said in that last visit her then 8-year-old son had accepted Jesus and in the last 8 years he has not heard a word about Jesus since. She was moved not only because of this fact, but more so because she had been convicted that she herself had not shared the Word with and discipled her own children. 

I had encouraged them not to wait for somebody from the outside to run their church and talked to them about how they were capable of  organizing themselves and doing the work of God´s kingdom despite their perceived lack of resources or education if they would just put it in God´s hands. Marcial shared with them as he did with all the villagers in a general meeting on Monday morning that this struggle they are all experiencing needs to be put in God´s hands since that is who gave their ancestors this land in the first place. Everyone in all the villages we went to agreed and Marcial is beginning to coordinate with them to have a meeting soon with the leaders of each community in the TIPNIS, not just the Sécure River, to fix a date that everyone in the TIPNIS can come together in a time of fasting and praying for their land. This is the event the Marcial sees will help to relaunch the local church as well as redefine the struggle of these people and help them to turn to God in the middle of this pain they are experiencing. 

It was very cool. I feel that this conflict really is a great opportunity for the Church there, but there is a lot of work to be done to convince these people that they don´t need a gringo missionary to do it for them. It was a privilege to be a part of this trip and it was disappointing that it was so short. We left Tuesday morning and were back in Trinidad by noon the next day and got on a bus home last night. I hope and pray that we can continue to support these people and especially to help Marcial as he is clearly a prophetic voice of his people. Next week I will publish the essay he wrote for this trip when I finish translating it. 

Overall it was a very encouraging trip for all parties. Beyond the lessons I learned from Marcial´s leadership and the people we talked to, I also learned a lot just about the logistics of organizing a big trip like this so we can do it better next time. And we didn´t run into any police or Navy in case you were wondering. Please pray for continuing wisdom for Marcial as he leads this initiative and for the strengthening of the church on the Sécure and Isiboro rivers in the TIPNIS. 

powerful words

The church in Latin America

has much to say about humanity.

It looks at the sad picture

portrayed by the Puebla conference:

faces of landless peasants

mistreated and killed by the forces of power,

faces of laborers arbitrarily dismissed

and without a living wage for their families,

faces of the elderly,

faces of outcasts,

faces of slum dwellers,

faces of poor children who from infancy

begin to feel the cruel sting of social injustice.

For them, it seems, there is no future –

no school, no high school, no university.

By what right have we cataloged persons

as first-class persons or second-class persons?

In the theology of human nature there is only one class:

children of God.

March 2, 1980

Romero