It was a bitter honor that God gave Mary…in those early years at least. She was chosen above all other women to bear His Son: true. But she was the only person told that. It would have been nice if God had told everyone else, but He didn’t. Didn’t tell Joseph until Joseph was sleeplessly trying to figure out how to break the engagement. Didn’t tell Mary’s parents, as far as we know, or the people of Nazareth where she lived.
So here Mary had this huge honor—and everyone thought she was an unprincipled slut, with delusions to boot.
To God’s credit, he gave her Elizabeth; the angel practically sent her to Elizabeth, and Mary picked up on the cue and went right away. Elizabeth, her cousin, six months heavy with John the Baptist, was tuned into the Spirit enough to sense who Mary was and what she was carrying when Mary walked in the door. These two women, carrying special burdens, could understand one another. No doubt Elizabeth’s mature wisdom and understanding helped prepare and fortify Mary for the months ahead.
And God did set Joseph straight, finally, in the nick of time—which seems to be His style.
But apart from that, from Joseph and Elizabeth knowing the Honor Mary carried—Mary was alone with that knowledge. It was an honor and a humiliation at the same time. To survive, Mary needed to rest in the truth of God’s love and favor, and live it out in a hostile environment where she was perceived as a fraud and treated like an outcast.
Well…that sounds familiar. The truth sets you free—inside your soul and mind—but causes enormous difficulties lived out in daily life.
But it is an honor all the same to be chosen to absorb and carry the Truth that must also, arduously, become our Way and our Life as well.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
A Ride in the Country
David invites me to go with him on Tuesday morning to check on some of the loan prospects: I say “Yes,” delighted to get to see in person some of what he has been doing.We start out before 7 a.m. on a beautiful morning, and are soon out of town and able to see the morning fog still misting the hills, and the sun making long shadows of trees and fence posts. The light looks golden this time of day, not white and harsh like it will at noon. For a long ways we are on good, two-lane asphalt road. There are the usual loaded semi-trailers and slat-sided cattle trucks, and of course, moto-taxis complicating traffic. Then there are occasional horse carts, dogs and chickens crossing the road, donkeys tethered at the side. We pass through small towns clogged with traffic and people, and then are out in the country again.
By 9:00 a.m. we are in Tuchín where David has his first appointment with a group of artisan business people. They are from the Zenú tribe, an indigenous people famous for their basket weaving, and all 13 of them have small loans related to woven products. As we arrive a man is hanging bundles of sugar cane thatch in the sun to dry. We go inside a small shop made of adobe walls, corrugated tin roofing and a dirt floor. There are two old-fashioned Singer sewing machine tables sitting sedately on the dirt floor. As we wait for the group to gather, one of the women shows me how to take the dried sugar cane leaves, slit them, and weave them in one of the complicated patterns they use. On the walls there are samples of belts, purses, visors, bracelets, and rugs all made from the beautiful black, white and red woven matting. David and I buy a couple of items to take with us to the U.S. to see if we can find “markets” for these items.
When most of the group has gathered, David asks them how things are going… Have they spent the money? Any problems? Everybody busy? How much do they plan to put into savings as they make their payments each month? There is a lively discussion over this last point, with some kind of consensus reached. David asks the pastor, who is one of the loan recipients, to pray in closing, and he does, asking a blessing on our upcoming trip as well. The lady who owns the shop pushes some bracelets and earrings into our hands as we leave, insisting that they are gifts.
The next “appointment” is at a church where the community bank group is not really organized yet. We go off the asphalt road and onto dirt roads that remind me of my childhood in Africa. It is the kind of loose dirt and gravel road on which you slide for several yards if you have to slam on the brakes; the kind of dust that swirls up behind you, and settles over your car like silt when you stop.
The directions David was given are not entirely clear, so we have to stop several times and ask which way to go. The people are always helpful, usually gesturing vaguely down the road and saying “para adelante” (up ahead,) making it one run-together word. They stare at us as we leave, perhaps never having seen a car as new as ours, or gringos. Once we miss a turn, and have to come back, waving at our helpers on the way. The road gets worse and worse, full of deep ruts from the rain, and we are glad when we finally find the little town of Pueblocito and can park the car in the shade and walk the rest of the way up the impassable road to the church.
Some twenty people are patiently waiting there. David is introduced and it is fascinating to watch these poor people grasp, quite quickly, the idea of how a community bank works. They must form a group; the group itself approves each individual who wishes to have a loan; and approves the amount requested. Each individual loan must then be analyzed and approved by David, as well as the total amount the group gets. The group members essentially stand as security for each other, since each member signs their own pagaré (I.O.U.) and also a group contract, guaranteeing payment in full to Desarollo Integral (the agency David works with). David does not know these people, and cannot tell who would be a good “loan risk,” but they know, and must approve only people they trust, for in the final analysis, they will all pay for whomever does not pay. The people nod; they understand this. They also understand what a very good interest rate 3% is. They understand why the loans have to be small at first, while trust and confidence are built. These people may be poor, but they are astute business owners, and the discussion is soon quite lively as they ask their questions and David answers. Then, after a prayer, we leave them to deal with the tasks of electing their officers, deciding who will be approved for loans, and filling out papers.
We visit, briefly, an AIEC pastor, now quite old and blind. He remembers LAM missionaries from 30 and 40 years ago—names that are missionary legends to us—and is quite thrilled to hold the hands of gringo missionaries for the first time in decades. We are also shown a cheese “factory,” which turns out to be little more than a wooden trough where milk curds are gradually skimmed and then pressed into cheese—all in the open air, with snorting pigs nearby. We are given a huge chunk of cheese—which we later “share” with the head of the denomination—he loves cheese.
Next stop is the small city of Sahagún, where David has funded several butchers and the restaurant of a man crippled by rheumatoid arthritis. One butcher is there in his shop, and we see no meat, but he reports that the money is being spent and all is going well. The next butcher is not there, but we can clearly see the small open air stand, and meat, and his son keeping an eye on it all. We spend the most time at the restaurant, welcomed by the owner, who gets up from his special chair and uses his crutch to move into the shop and show us the increased inventory he has bought with the loan money. Using one finger that is not deformed, he shows David the detailed records he is now keeping. These records helped him learn that he makes a significant amount of his profits on a home-made juice that he sells. He gives us each a bottle to taste, and we look at each other knowing exactly what the other is thinking: Is this made with purified water? But of course, we drink it! And it is delicious: cold and sweet and very fruity. Turns out, we find out later in the conversation, he does use purified water. “One cannot drink the water from the tap in this country,” he tells us seriously, “It’s not safe, so I get my water from a company that gets it from a well.” We nod, Yes.
Then we are on our way, feeling privileged to know these people, to see them in their real, daily lives, to be part of helping them in a small way. The sun is now high and hot. We turn the AC up a notch, and head home.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Project Reports - 46 Enterprises Funded Before Christmas
Connie's creative writing is found below, but first we report on the projects for creating jobs and income.We are happy to report that small business loans have been disbursed through the "Desarrollo Integral" unit that David started to 46 projects in Sucre and Cordoba provinces, mainly in small cities such as Chinú, Sahagún, Tuchín, and Colomboy. The first of these sound like names of indigenous people, because they are, as is perhaps evident in the photo. This particular group makes handicrafts from a woven straw, most popularly known from the typical Colombian hat. However, as you can see in the picture, they also make a lot of other things, and we hope to find export markets for some of these products in the U.S. Let us know if you would like to see some samples!
Funding was provided for chickens, pigs, stores, butchers, furniture production, handicrafts, and a refreshment stand. Over $15,000 (average loan of $325) will create jobs for more than 100 people, and impact over 500, when the families are considered. And all of the funds will be paid back within the next 6 months, to be recycled for new projects.
Moto-Taxis of Sincelejo Beware!
David often takes a moto-taxi to his office at the Finca Betél or for other errands in town. He could take the car…but that involves getting it out of the garage, weaving through a thick river of cars, people, and above all, moto-taxis, then finding a parking place for the car… No, the car is great for when we are going someplace with easy parking, or for longer trips. But in the city, if you don’t want to fight the moto-taxis—well, if you can’t beat ‘em—join ‘em!
To use a moto-taxi--motorcycles who serve as taxis—you get on the back seat, put on a helmet if you wish, and the driver takes you anywhere you want to go in the city for 50 cents. Not bad, eh?
Recently David went out in the morning, found a small moto-taxi, and driver and David started up the hill from our house….very slowly.
“Can’t you get this thing to go any faster?” David asked, joking around.
“Well,” said the driver, “…how much do you weigh?”
David told him, and they proceeded to chat pleasantly until they arrived at David’s destination, upon which David gave him an extra tip.
“What’s this for?” asked the driver.
“The extra weight!” David replied. “You should probably charge by the kilo!”
The man drove away, laughing.
Going with the flow…
One has to be here, in Colombia. It is true of other Latin American countries, too, and in Africa…but it seems to be a special feature of the Caribbean coast of Colombia that things cannot be rushed.
For the North American sojourner transplanting himself or herself to this northern coast of Colombia there are two aspects (at least) of learning to go with the flow:
One is interpreting what might be meant by different statements regarding time and behavior; the other is that everything takes longer than you think.
A friend of ours, named Lacho, occasionally breaks into enlightening comments designed to help orient us newcomers, like, “Never drink any water that is not sold in a sealed bottle and sold by a reputable company like….” Apparently he knows whereof he speaks, having gotten ill by not following his own advice. Or, “the best ice cream is…such and such brand.”
He delivered a classic, brief homily one day, however, that we have not forgotten, and between ourselves refer to as “life according to Lacho.” It went something like this:
“If someone says ‘un minutico’ (in just one minute) it really means in about half an hour. If someone says ‘en cinco minutos’ (in five minutes) it means in about three or four hours. If you’re talking with someone about doing something and he says, ‘I’ll think about it…’ that means ‘No.’ And if he says, ‘I’ll call you,’ that means ‘Never.’” He said more, and I wanted to write it down at the time, but it didn’t seem appropriate.
We lived in Latin America, before, for 15 years, and worked with Latin Americans and traveled in many Latin American countries since we lived here…we know that time is elastic, and that one must interpret “indirect communication,” but we sometimes chuckle over, or puzzle over, the mystery of it all.
Examples: We decided to invite several Colombian friends over for a Thanksgiving meal—or the closest approximation we could come up with anyway. Thanksgiving Thursday is not a holiday for them, so we needed to make the meal ready for them after 6:00 p.m., when most businesses shut down. We also needed time to make it ourselves. So we guessed that if we invited them for “6:30 p.m.” we could have the food ready in case they showed up, but that they probably wouldn’t show up until 7:30 or 8:00 p.m. We guessed right: one couple came at 7:30, another at 8:00 and another excused themselves. So far, so good.
We were invited to a birthday party on a week day at “1:00 p.m.” We knew we couldn’t arrive at 1:00 p.m…. nothing would be ready and we would be a problem for the hosts, who wouldn’t know what to do with us. But technically, they all needed to be back at work at 2:00 p.m. So we guessed 1:30, and that worked out fine!
Another day a friend told David that he could join a basketball game on Saturday, and that he would call him about details. Wednesday went by…Thursday went by….Friday…no call. Was this one of those “I’ll call you” statements that means “Never”? Mysterious! David gave up on Saturday afternoon and went and did something else. Then the guy called at 4:00 p.m.: the game was at 5:00. Fortunately, David made it!
Let us say that we are informed that there will be an important meeting about ministry, or projects or--it doesn’t really matter what--at 10:00 a.m. on Tuesday. We need to be there at 10:00 a.m. just in case everyone else is there and the meeting starts. That is highly unlikely, however. It might start at 11:00 a.m., maybe. But it probably won’t start after that, because everything shuts down here between 12 noon and 2 p.m., when most people go home for the main meal of the day and a bit of a rest. Then they come back, maybe at 2 p.m., but probably by 2:30. So if the meeting doesn’t happen in the morning, it may well happen in the afternoon. If a lot is going on, it might get postponed to the next day, but if it is an important meeting, it will probably happen on the day it was set for: you just don’t know exactly when. Things sort of coalesce…they happen when all of the important people have arrived and aren’t still getting ready, or haven’t been interrupted again. One needs to learn the art of waiting gracefully. Usually, there’s plenty to do while you wait.
Everything takes longer than you think…
Here is how that works:
We wanted a map of Sincelejo; it would help so much to know the names of the neighborhoods, the principal landmarks, the roads… A reasonable request, one would think. We asked a number of times and were met with puzzled looks: not a common request, apparently. Then we began to hear, repeatedly, that we could get one at Augustin &Codozzi, and we were told what building. Finally, one day we were downtown and David was getting information at a travel agency around the corner from that building, so I (Connie) went up to the 7th floor of said building and found Augustin &Codozzi: it is an institute of geographical studies. They did have a map of Sincelejo! I got out my money, but it was not to be that simple. First I needed to take a “consignment slip” to a certain bank and pay my money there. It took me three tries to find the right bank (and bank lines are not short here), then the slip had to be filled out several times, since I did not have all the information quite correct! Then I had to go back to the 7th floor of Augustin &Codozzi, have the receipt stamped by one person, turn it in to another person…and wait. I was told “15 mintues” and after awhile wondered if that actually meant “nine hours” according to Lacho’s figuring, but it turned out to actually be about 25 minutes. They had to print the map. So that’s what I mean: it took about 2 and ½ hours just to buy a map!
We also needed to renew our “tourist visa” stamp in our passport. David was told in the airport, “Oh, you just go to the DAS (Department of Security Administration) and they put a stamp in your passport.” It is not quite that simple. We showed up at the DAS on a Thursday morning and waited ½ an hour for the lady to show up. When she did she explained that we needed to pay $30 each, and that we needed to go do so in a certain bank. Then we also needed three passport size photos. So…we duly got more cash out of an ATM, paid the money at the stipulated bank, found a place to have passport photos done… By then it was the week-end. We showed up again at the DAS on Monday morning at 7:30 when it opened, as the lady had said, but…she was in a meeting until 8:30. At 8:30 when she could finally see us, she apologized profusely, but she had something very pressing she needed to do that morning…could we come back at 2:00 p.m.? We came back at 2:30 and waited ½ an hour for the lady to show up. When she did, she had a different clerk, under her direction, fill out various forms, take our finger prints, and inform us that we needed 5 more photocopies of various things…Fortunately that could be done across the street. By 4:00 p.m. we finally had the stamp in our passport that allows us to legally be in the country for…15 more days.
Everything takes longer than you think.
(If you got this far.... reading this took longer than you thought, right!!!????)
Just plan on it. Don’t plan on too much else. Just….go with the flow.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Thanksgiving Week News
The Chicken that was Late for Dinner
You have probably been in slow restaurants and joked that the help must have gone out to catch the fish or slaughter the beef…and when we lived in Latin America before and traveled in rural areas, we sometimes suspected that dinner waited while the chicken was caught…
Well, this time it actually happened. We were invited to go Sunday to a small, new church in El Floral, in the foothills between Tolu and Sincelejo and informed that we would be treated to a sancocho after church. Sancocho is a delicious Colombian home-made soup or stew that typically simmers on the stove (or wood fire) all day, beginning with a meat (often chicken) and with other ingredients added in as they are available: corn, potatoes, squash, yuca…the kitchen sink. David preached the morning sermon and we hung around after church for awhile, talking with people. Then we were shown a nearby farm, with an oak tree nursery, papaya trees, plantain trees, and fruits we have never seen before in our lives. Then we were shown another farm. After awhile we arrived at the open thatched roof hut where we would eat lunch, and sat and talked with our hosts, the young pastor and his wife. Periodically, one of them would leave to see “what was taking so long.” Apparently even by Colombian coastal standards, lunch was delayed. Finally with embarrassment and apology they explained to us that “the hen had not wanted to be caught and had had to be chased.” They brought out a hammock and strung it up for David to rest in. Their two little children (ages roughly 3 and 5 years) considered this an invitation to swing David back and forth, and shortly all three were in the hammock involved in a lively game of tickle and dump, resulting in much laughter—reminiscent of when our children were that age. Fortunately there was a lovely breeze and a view of the mountains while we waited.
Finally, the sancocho was brought, steaming, and we did enjoy it. In all honesty I have to say that while tasty, the chicken was a little stringy. All that running no doubt!
Fresh Pork!
One block from our house we saw this sight...a freshly slaughtered pig: ask for the piece you want...they would sell it to you by the kilo!
Becoming Nobody
When a missionary newly arrives in Colombia—and most other Latin American countries—he or she arrives as a tourist, and begins the arduous process of applying for legal residency. This requires endless applications, documents, notarizations, fees…and waiting. Our applications are…in process.
This is all very logical. Colombia can, and should, protect her borders and monitor who lives here. (The process in the U.S. is no less arduous, we would point out.)
But in the meantime…the missionary cannot: open a bank account, obtain a credit card, buy property, rent property…buy a car…or even a cell phone. All of those transactions require a cedula—a legal identity card. So one is without an identity. One is not, to say the least, in a position of power or influence. From the point of view of the government and local populace, one is nobody.
And having money in a bank account in the U.S. does not really help too much: even with money one still cannot buy property, cars, or rent anything: one needs the cedula. And there is a logical limit to how much cash one can take out of an ATM. We have learned the limits—believe me. Not too safe to carry around large amounts of cash, either. So just ask David…he knows where all the ATMs are, and which ones work, with what banks and how well!
Another truth factors in heavily as well: even if we had a cedula, bank accounts and large sums of money, in Colombia (as in most of Latin America) what allows you to get things done is who you know. It helps if you are a friend of the sister of the ex-mayor, for example, or the brother-in-law of the wife of the vice president of the bank…or if you just can mention the name of a well-respected figure in the community, and he or she will speak on your behalf.
After years of taking responsibility for significant decisions in the home office of the Latin America Mission and managing large amounts of money, this is a new and interesting role! It does not matter a whit who we might have been in another life.
Furthermore, when we try to explain “who we are” in terms of why we have come, it is not understandable. Well, “tourist” is understandable, if not common. But that we have come to try to be of assistance to the poor and disadvantaged…well. People smile and nod….and no doubt think, Crazy Gringos...we'll see how long they last!
So how have we obtained cell phones? Car? How do we hope to rent an apartment? Through the patient auspices of the leadership of the A.I.E.C.—the Association of the Churches of the Caribbean that has invited us to work here. These gentle pastors have graciously, repeatedly filled out forms for us, transferred funds for us, signed papers for us, bought a cell phone for us. They are always gracious and willing, but they are busy men with many things to do besides fill out forms for the Befuses! I don’t know if they knew what they were getting into when they invited us—they are far from done!
This is, though, one of the strengths of the LAM placement system: the missionary is sent to work with a Latin American ministry whose responsibility it is to help the missionary obtain legal status in the country.
It is humbling, though, to have come to help—and to keep bothering our national colleagues to help us. It is humbling not to have an identity to point to that is understandable, and I am not talking only about a piece of paper. It is profoundly instructive, at this age, to be nobody. We are not surprised; we knew it would be like this…but it is instructive all the same.
We believe this is temporary. In good time (maybe a good, long time!) we will obtain cedulas, God willing, and bank accounts, and an identity…
In the meantime, the Apostle Paul’s instruction to the Philippian believers takes on new relevance: Have the same attitude as Jesus…who made Himself nothing…of no reputation…
May the reputation we eventually accrue be one that honors Him!
Sincerely nobodies,
David and Connie
When a missionary newly arrives in Colombia—and most other Latin American countries—he or she arrives as a tourist, and begins the arduous process of applying for legal residency. This requires endless applications, documents, notarizations, fees…and waiting. Our applications are…in process.
This is all very logical. Colombia can, and should, protect her borders and monitor who lives here. (The process in the U.S. is no less arduous, we would point out.)
But in the meantime…the missionary cannot: open a bank account, obtain a credit card, buy property, rent property…buy a car…or even a cell phone. All of those transactions require a cedula—a legal identity card. So one is without an identity. One is not, to say the least, in a position of power or influence. From the point of view of the government and local populace, one is nobody.
And having money in a bank account in the U.S. does not really help too much: even with money one still cannot buy property, cars, or rent anything: one needs the cedula. And there is a logical limit to how much cash one can take out of an ATM. We have learned the limits—believe me. Not too safe to carry around large amounts of cash, either. So just ask David…he knows where all the ATMs are, and which ones work, with what banks and how well!
Another truth factors in heavily as well: even if we had a cedula, bank accounts and large sums of money, in Colombia (as in most of Latin America) what allows you to get things done is who you know. It helps if you are a friend of the sister of the ex-mayor, for example, or the brother-in-law of the wife of the vice president of the bank…or if you just can mention the name of a well-respected figure in the community, and he or she will speak on your behalf.
After years of taking responsibility for significant decisions in the home office of the Latin America Mission and managing large amounts of money, this is a new and interesting role! It does not matter a whit who we might have been in another life.
Furthermore, when we try to explain “who we are” in terms of why we have come, it is not understandable. Well, “tourist” is understandable, if not common. But that we have come to try to be of assistance to the poor and disadvantaged…well. People smile and nod….and no doubt think, Crazy Gringos...we'll see how long they last!
So how have we obtained cell phones? Car? How do we hope to rent an apartment? Through the patient auspices of the leadership of the A.I.E.C.—the Association of the Churches of the Caribbean that has invited us to work here. These gentle pastors have graciously, repeatedly filled out forms for us, transferred funds for us, signed papers for us, bought a cell phone for us. They are always gracious and willing, but they are busy men with many things to do besides fill out forms for the Befuses! I don’t know if they knew what they were getting into when they invited us—they are far from done!
This is, though, one of the strengths of the LAM placement system: the missionary is sent to work with a Latin American ministry whose responsibility it is to help the missionary obtain legal status in the country.
It is humbling, though, to have come to help—and to keep bothering our national colleagues to help us. It is humbling not to have an identity to point to that is understandable, and I am not talking only about a piece of paper. It is profoundly instructive, at this age, to be nobody. We are not surprised; we knew it would be like this…but it is instructive all the same.
We believe this is temporary. In good time (maybe a good, long time!) we will obtain cedulas, God willing, and bank accounts, and an identity…
In the meantime, the Apostle Paul’s instruction to the Philippian believers takes on new relevance: Have the same attitude as Jesus…who made Himself nothing…of no reputation…
May the reputation we eventually accrue be one that honors Him!
Sincerely nobodies,
David and Connie
Friday, November 2, 2007
November 2 - New Insights
Prince of Peace Church
Yesterday (Sunday) we were invited to the tiny church Principe de Paz in Tolu; David was to give the morning sermon. All we needed to do was get to the other side of this small beach town, so we took a bici-taxi (bicycle taxi), which provided a picturesque view and breeze a good part of the way because our driver/cyclist took us along the beach until he had to turn in to catch the road into the poorer part of town. After awhile the paved road ended, and since it had rained the night before the road, instead of being hard dirt, was mud. Our driver pumped bravely on for awhile, sweating, but finally encountered such sticky mud that he could not go on, and we got off and walked. It was only a couple more blocks to the church.
Small churches like this one start up with a few believers, and whoever is most qualified to lead or teach is named the pastor. In this case it is a brave black woman. The building is made of bamboo walls plastered with what looks suspiciously like the mud we walked through, although there are some partial walls made of cement block. Same with the floor: most of it is hard dirt, but up in front there is a platform made of cement. It is a building “in process,” in which the people add cement blocks to walls, or add cement flooring, as they are able to afford a few more blocks, a little more cement. They have electricity, which is something: wires are strung along the wooden poles that support tin roofing; there is a bare light bulb and the essential overhead fan.
How these people—only some15 adults in all—have managed to produce this small building out of their poverty we do not understand. Their houses are no doubt constructed of the same materials as their church, and they probably live hand to mouth. Some are fishermen, or sell fish or empanadas, have a small soldering business or tiny store.
Although these people have come through the same mud we have (after all, they live in it), they are clean and well dressed. Only one woman comes in with bare, muddy feet, and she is crippled. She is lovingly greeted and carefully helped to a seat.
After some singing (acapella) and testimonies of what people are thankful for, David is “on.” His face perspires and his shirt is wet half-way through the sermon, in which he outlines God’s theology of work, and Jesus’ knowledge of and sensitivity to the common fisherman, shepherd, builder, worker. At the end he explains how the church people, if they want to, can form a community bank and receive a loan to help them start or amplify small businesses. He is thoughtfully provided with small plastic bag of drinking water.
As we leave the pastora says some are interested in the community bank idea, and that they will contact us; we exchange cell phone numbers. Just as we begin to walk away, she offers to pay our bici-taxi fare. We say, “No thank you.”
October 24, 2007
Driving…country and city…
Country
The 45 minute drive from Tolu to Sincelejo is a lovely one, mostly rural—actually beginning by the coast in wide, flat ranch lands, occupied by healthy looking Brahman cattle: huge bulls, large females, and small endearing calves. It is rainy season right now and everything looks lush and green. It is perfect cattle country with miles and miles of rich pasture and huge spreading trees for shade. There are also sheep, and horses. Often of a morning we will see cow boys in the fields or on the road, mounted on horses with whips or lassos, only missing the wide brim hats to be just like their U.S. counterparts.
There are pigs to be seen as well—actually large hogs, and chickens. And I have never seen such beautiful roosters; not that I am an expert, but still….these guys are really big, with plentiful, gorgeous feathers of multiple colors and their top feathers would compete with any woman’s Victorian hat of old. They strut with pride and truly appear to have something to crow about—ha!
As for vehicles…one can see anything… Buses of course: the large streamlined Greyhound type only occasionally, the colorful school-bus type, the smaller van type, and of course, stopped buses at any time and in any place. There are modern cars and SUVs and Jeeps and absolutely ancient cars that we didn’t know even existed any more. Pick-ups and trucks of every kind abound: sleek modern ones, and older ones bordering on antique status. Most interesting are the ones carrying cattle or pigs. We passed a small truck yesterday, with wooden slat sides, that was carrying calves; at that point they were all standing, but if the truck tipped or turned, it certainly looked as if the load would be easily unbalanced.
There are motorcycles and bicycles carrying any and everything…(see our series on “Amazing things on two wheels” in another section of our blog)… We have seen bicycles and motorcycles carrying, so far: stacks of egg cartons (complete with eggs), a mattress, closet doors, piping, and piles of produce. It is tricky to try to photograph these items from a car, but we’ll try to capture on digital camera some of what we see, so you can see it too!
About mid-way to Sincelejo the flatter lands give way to rolling hills and the road starts to climb. At one point we can look down to the west and see, far away, a blue strip of ocean. If one happens to be driving back to Tolu about 5:30 or so, one can catch a spectacular sunset with the sun sinking into the water and the blue haze of evening falling over the green, green hills.
City driving
Monteria is not so bad… It is a large city of over 500,000 people, but it is flat and well organized. We are accustomed to driving in Latin America with the cavalier attitudes towards stoplights, stop signs and traffic laws in general, and the tendency for any other vehicle to occupy, or pass through, any space available, regardless of what the rules might be, or regardless of the intentions of any other driver.
But Sincelejo is another story. All of the above is true, of course. But add in the fact that Sincelejo is built on numerous rolling hills, and that none of the streets are flat, or straight. Add in also, the fact that Sincelejo, by admission of the local populace, not only has more than enough vehicles, but is overrun by motorcycles. There must be ten motos per every one vehicle of any other kind. And if your average driver is cavalier about transit rules, moto drivers absolutely jeer at them. Many of these are moto-taxis. They speed around any vehicle, on any side, with little regard for anything else going on, and don’t mind stopping right in front of you to pick up a passenger, either. Then, of course, there are people in the street, or crossing the street, and dogs and vendors as well. It is safe to say that driving in Sincelejo is an experience in stimulus overload.
I have been amazed that David not only survives this, but is learning his way around in a context with no map (we have asked for one…repeatedly, but no one seems to know where they can be found…), very few signs or directional indicators of any kind, and streets that curve in any direction and suddenly dead-end without warning. One of these days I will take my courage in both hands and drive, too, but as yet I am in no hurry. If I need to go somewhere in Sincelejo, a taxi fare sounds like a good investment in sanity.
Barefoot missionary
We heartily recommend a shoe shine… Colombian men with enough money to have real shoes—i.e, leather shoes, not sandals or sneakers—keep them shined, and they do not do this themselves. Thus in any central park in Latin America there are men and boys occupied in the legitimate and somewhat respectable business of shining shoes. They often have wooden chairs or stools for their clients, sometimes portable, and their own little wooden trunk of supplies. These micro-businesses have some charming names: the Shoe Clinic, Shoe Paradise, Jimmy’s Shoe Box, etc.
David was badly in need of a shoe shine recently, his good leather shoes not having had a shine since one of his trips to Ecuador, so he sat down in the chair of a shoe-shine man while we waited for it to be the “right time” to arrive at an appointment. The man was appalled at the state of David’s shoes and said that he needed to do a complete overhaul, and so asked for David’s shoes, which he duly took off. David had already asked the price and been benignly reassured that it would be barrato (cheap). The man started applying various chemicals and it became clear that #1 he was doing a very good job and #2 that this was going to take awhile. We insisted that we had an appointment we needed to get to, and David again tried to ascertain the price. Smiling generously we were assured again and again that it would be barrato, and when we were insistent about our time-line he benevolently informed us that being in a hurry is not good for one.
We know, we know…but even in Latin America, there are limits to how late one should be for an appointment…especially a business appointment early in the day. But…David had no shoes on, and no spare pair along! It was either go to the appointment barefoot…or wait for his shoes! At this point we were highly amused, and joking with each other about “barefoot missionaries” and the discalced priests of old…
Finally, with a little more kindly pressure, David got the man to give back his shoes, even though this shoe professional was mildly offended, because the shoes were not quite as dry or shiny as his standards demand. David finally got the price worked out, too, by surveying other nearby shoe shiners to ascertain whether the price was fair or not.
We got to our appointment fine, and the shoes actually look new, but David has a “credit” owed him of a longer and better shine on those shoes. And he will never allow his shoes off his feet again unless he has a lot of time and clearer concept of “product.”
Yesterday (Sunday) we were invited to the tiny church Principe de Paz in Tolu; David was to give the morning sermon. All we needed to do was get to the other side of this small beach town, so we took a bici-taxi (bicycle taxi), which provided a picturesque view and breeze a good part of the way because our driver/cyclist took us along the beach until he had to turn in to catch the road into the poorer part of town. After awhile the paved road ended, and since it had rained the night before the road, instead of being hard dirt, was mud. Our driver pumped bravely on for awhile, sweating, but finally encountered such sticky mud that he could not go on, and we got off and walked. It was only a couple more blocks to the church.
Small churches like this one start up with a few believers, and whoever is most qualified to lead or teach is named the pastor. In this case it is a brave black woman. The building is made of bamboo walls plastered with what looks suspiciously like the mud we walked through, although there are some partial walls made of cement block. Same with the floor: most of it is hard dirt, but up in front there is a platform made of cement. It is a building “in process,” in which the people add cement blocks to walls, or add cement flooring, as they are able to afford a few more blocks, a little more cement. They have electricity, which is something: wires are strung along the wooden poles that support tin roofing; there is a bare light bulb and the essential overhead fan.
How these people—only some15 adults in all—have managed to produce this small building out of their poverty we do not understand. Their houses are no doubt constructed of the same materials as their church, and they probably live hand to mouth. Some are fishermen, or sell fish or empanadas, have a small soldering business or tiny store.
Although these people have come through the same mud we have (after all, they live in it), they are clean and well dressed. Only one woman comes in with bare, muddy feet, and she is crippled. She is lovingly greeted and carefully helped to a seat.
After some singing (acapella) and testimonies of what people are thankful for, David is “on.” His face perspires and his shirt is wet half-way through the sermon, in which he outlines God’s theology of work, and Jesus’ knowledge of and sensitivity to the common fisherman, shepherd, builder, worker. At the end he explains how the church people, if they want to, can form a community bank and receive a loan to help them start or amplify small businesses. He is thoughtfully provided with small plastic bag of drinking water.
As we leave the pastora says some are interested in the community bank idea, and that they will contact us; we exchange cell phone numbers. Just as we begin to walk away, she offers to pay our bici-taxi fare. We say, “No thank you.”
October 24, 2007
Driving…country and city…
Country
The 45 minute drive from Tolu to Sincelejo is a lovely one, mostly rural—actually beginning by the coast in wide, flat ranch lands, occupied by healthy looking Brahman cattle: huge bulls, large females, and small endearing calves. It is rainy season right now and everything looks lush and green. It is perfect cattle country with miles and miles of rich pasture and huge spreading trees for shade. There are also sheep, and horses. Often of a morning we will see cow boys in the fields or on the road, mounted on horses with whips or lassos, only missing the wide brim hats to be just like their U.S. counterparts.
There are pigs to be seen as well—actually large hogs, and chickens. And I have never seen such beautiful roosters; not that I am an expert, but still….these guys are really big, with plentiful, gorgeous feathers of multiple colors and their top feathers would compete with any woman’s Victorian hat of old. They strut with pride and truly appear to have something to crow about—ha!
As for vehicles…one can see anything… Buses of course: the large streamlined Greyhound type only occasionally, the colorful school-bus type, the smaller van type, and of course, stopped buses at any time and in any place. There are modern cars and SUVs and Jeeps and absolutely ancient cars that we didn’t know even existed any more. Pick-ups and trucks of every kind abound: sleek modern ones, and older ones bordering on antique status. Most interesting are the ones carrying cattle or pigs. We passed a small truck yesterday, with wooden slat sides, that was carrying calves; at that point they were all standing, but if the truck tipped or turned, it certainly looked as if the load would be easily unbalanced.
There are motorcycles and bicycles carrying any and everything…(see our series on “Amazing things on two wheels” in another section of our blog)… We have seen bicycles and motorcycles carrying, so far: stacks of egg cartons (complete with eggs), a mattress, closet doors, piping, and piles of produce. It is tricky to try to photograph these items from a car, but we’ll try to capture on digital camera some of what we see, so you can see it too!
About mid-way to Sincelejo the flatter lands give way to rolling hills and the road starts to climb. At one point we can look down to the west and see, far away, a blue strip of ocean. If one happens to be driving back to Tolu about 5:30 or so, one can catch a spectacular sunset with the sun sinking into the water and the blue haze of evening falling over the green, green hills.
City driving
Monteria is not so bad… It is a large city of over 500,000 people, but it is flat and well organized. We are accustomed to driving in Latin America with the cavalier attitudes towards stoplights, stop signs and traffic laws in general, and the tendency for any other vehicle to occupy, or pass through, any space available, regardless of what the rules might be, or regardless of the intentions of any other driver.
But Sincelejo is another story. All of the above is true, of course. But add in the fact that Sincelejo is built on numerous rolling hills, and that none of the streets are flat, or straight. Add in also, the fact that Sincelejo, by admission of the local populace, not only has more than enough vehicles, but is overrun by motorcycles. There must be ten motos per every one vehicle of any other kind. And if your average driver is cavalier about transit rules, moto drivers absolutely jeer at them. Many of these are moto-taxis. They speed around any vehicle, on any side, with little regard for anything else going on, and don’t mind stopping right in front of you to pick up a passenger, either. Then, of course, there are people in the street, or crossing the street, and dogs and vendors as well. It is safe to say that driving in Sincelejo is an experience in stimulus overload.
I have been amazed that David not only survives this, but is learning his way around in a context with no map (we have asked for one…repeatedly, but no one seems to know where they can be found…), very few signs or directional indicators of any kind, and streets that curve in any direction and suddenly dead-end without warning. One of these days I will take my courage in both hands and drive, too, but as yet I am in no hurry. If I need to go somewhere in Sincelejo, a taxi fare sounds like a good investment in sanity.
Barefoot missionary
We heartily recommend a shoe shine… Colombian men with enough money to have real shoes—i.e, leather shoes, not sandals or sneakers—keep them shined, and they do not do this themselves. Thus in any central park in Latin America there are men and boys occupied in the legitimate and somewhat respectable business of shining shoes. They often have wooden chairs or stools for their clients, sometimes portable, and their own little wooden trunk of supplies. These micro-businesses have some charming names: the Shoe Clinic, Shoe Paradise, Jimmy’s Shoe Box, etc.
David was badly in need of a shoe shine recently, his good leather shoes not having had a shine since one of his trips to Ecuador, so he sat down in the chair of a shoe-shine man while we waited for it to be the “right time” to arrive at an appointment. The man was appalled at the state of David’s shoes and said that he needed to do a complete overhaul, and so asked for David’s shoes, which he duly took off. David had already asked the price and been benignly reassured that it would be barrato (cheap). The man started applying various chemicals and it became clear that #1 he was doing a very good job and #2 that this was going to take awhile. We insisted that we had an appointment we needed to get to, and David again tried to ascertain the price. Smiling generously we were assured again and again that it would be barrato, and when we were insistent about our time-line he benevolently informed us that being in a hurry is not good for one.
We know, we know…but even in Latin America, there are limits to how late one should be for an appointment…especially a business appointment early in the day. But…David had no shoes on, and no spare pair along! It was either go to the appointment barefoot…or wait for his shoes! At this point we were highly amused, and joking with each other about “barefoot missionaries” and the discalced priests of old…
Finally, with a little more kindly pressure, David got the man to give back his shoes, even though this shoe professional was mildly offended, because the shoes were not quite as dry or shiny as his standards demand. David finally got the price worked out, too, by surveying other nearby shoe shiners to ascertain whether the price was fair or not.
We got to our appointment fine, and the shoes actually look new, but David has a “credit” owed him of a longer and better shine on those shoes. And he will never allow his shoes off his feet again unless he has a lot of time and clearer concept of “product.”
Friday, October 19, 2007
Musings After Arrival in Colombia
Internet Café Blues
At the moment we do not have a house of our own, and therefore of course, no phone line or broad band of our own; thus we do our e-mail and internet work from internet cafes. This has turned out to be quite an adventure!! First of all, some internet cafes are air conditioned; some not…. Of course we prefer the air conditioned ones….but one takes what one can get! Secondly, one is never sure of the quality of the computer, or the connection one gets. Sometimes the monitor is large…or small…clear and easy to see, or old and blurry. Likewise the keyboard: many of them have been used so much that the letters are literally worn off the keyboard. The keyboard is configured differently, so that the question mark, quotation marks, colon and semi-colon and many other things are in a different location than one is accustomed to. Sometimes certain letters don’t work. One evening we were delighted to find an air conditioned internet café…but spent some hilarious minutes trying to construct an e-mail to our kids on a keyboard on which the “c” and the “s” did not work. Jut try writing omething enible to a friend omtime and ee if they an undertand it!!
The internet tech guys in these internet cafes have been extremely helpful… They love a puzzle and seem indefatiguable in trying to solve whatever arcane questions we bring. They try and try until we are exhausted and say we have to go…and still they assure us that they will have it figured out “manana.”
I am working on one of their computers right now, while they try to solve a puzzle on my lap top. An ant crawls across the keyboard and dies, with my help, on the bbbbbbbbbb.
Church…
Church is first and foremost supposed to be a place to worship God and learn about Him. However, it cannot help but be a process profoundly affected by culture. U.S. Presbyterians are, generally, accustomed to a certain order of service: hymns, liturgy, a choir, a sermon. Baptists also have hymns…or now days, contemporary choruses, announcements, offering, the sermon, perhaps an invitation. Episcopalians generally have more liturgy, more formal hymns, more standing and kneeling, and the sermon is likely based on, or incorporates, the Scripture readings of the day. Presumably, our Lord is honored in any of these services, but they are profoundly different in content and in “feel.” Most of us native U.S. church-goers could probably be dropped, blind-folded, into a Southern Baptist service, or an Episcopalian one, maybe even a Presbyterian one…and identify which “sub-culture” we are in within five minutes.
In northern Colombia, the churches we have been in have been characterized by a prolonged period of singing and worship…sometimes as long as 45 minutes or longer. In many churches there are guitarists, a drummer, a keyboard artist and numerous singers. The worship leader occasionally pauses amidst the singing to pray, but it is sometimes difficult to distinguish the praying from the singing because the prayer begins quietly, but has a certain cadence and rhythm, slowly increases in volume and reaches a crescendo of sorts, after which singing begins again, or there may be a transition to Sunday School or a sermon. In these churches when one person prays, other people often pray along, not exactly silently, so that soon there is a whole murmur of prayer by all. The people are practiced in this art, and join the leader in the gradual crescendo of sound and emotion, seeming to know when to allow it to subside.
Another characteristic of many of these churches is that they love music—the louder the better. Most churches, unless very poor, have some kind of sound system, complete with microphones, keyboard, and speakers—often cranked up as high as they will go.
We attended two churches recently in one Sunday morning. The first was in a comparatively poor neighborhood, although not the poorest of the poor: in this neighborhood most of the houses, though small, are of cement; whereas in the poorest neighborhoods (where the displaced people have recently moved in) houses are often of wood, corrugated tin, flour sacking, or any combination thereof. This church had its own building, made of cement, a good roof and electricity. Therefore they also had overhead fans, which helped a lot! And they had microphones, speakers and keyboard. The drummer was a boy of about twelve, and wow!! could he play! The Sunday school rooms however, had no cement floor—just dirt, and the “rooms” were actually separated not by walls, but by flour sacking. The worship was as described above, except that, actually, the music was not too loud.
The second church we visited was one of the largest and oldest in the city of Monteria, and is located downtown. The building is similar to any small or medium-sized sanctuary in the U.S., except that the floors are of tile, and still, there is no air conditioning, just overhead fans and wide open windows. The sound equipment was much more sophisticated and was accompanied by Power Point projections.
Noise!
We have lived in Latin America before and remember that there is much more noise than North Americans are accustomed to… But, Wow! Is there noise!!
I am sitting at our plastic, dining room table/desk at our temporary apartment in Tolu, on the 3rd floor. From here, right now, I can hear: a rooster crowing… He does this off and on all day, not only at dawn; he just begins about 4:30 a.m. or 5:00. I had never thought about it much before, but the rooster’s crow is sort of mournful, not cheery. Other birds are chirping and singing, too, and earlier this morning we heard the raucous “party noise” of the little green loras (parrots) who always fly in groups and sound very happy! Besides the rooster, I can hear the bleats of sheep that are kept in the yard two blocks away, and if I stand and look out the window, I can see the sheep…and anything else going on in that yard. Yesterday some animal sounded like it was having a heart attack…might have been a donkey, or a pig: couldn’t tell.
Then, vehicles drive by with loud speakers, announcing things for sale, upcoming events, or outlining the political platform of a particular candidate for election. And sometimes, people play music…for all the world, apparently. One afternoon recently someone two blocks away was playing music so loud that our windows rattled and we could not hear each other at all. We could look down into their yard and see the gigantic speakers pointed right in our direction. After awhile, when we were literally in pain from the noise, we decided to take a walk on the beach, and stopped by where the speakers were to find out the cause of this…extreme experience. Turns out, it was someone’s birthday, and part of the bash was to have the person with speakers come and play loud music… So we went to walk on the beach where we could not hear it, and when we came home, went into the air conditioned room, grateful for the first time, that the air conditioner was noisy enough to drown out the other.
Public Transportation
At first, when we did not have a car, we rode buses all the time…or walked, or used the small yellow taxis that are ubiquitous here. There are no cars in the U.S. as diminutive as those little taxis.
There are at least three sizes, or types, of buses in our part of Colombia: the smallest is roughly the size of a large van in the U.S. and is used for local transport, or between small towns. The next size up is the size of a small bus, or a school bus in the U.S. Both of these style of buses are completely open air (no AC) and get filled as full as they can hold, with luggage being stuffed on laps, under chairs, or sometimes up on top of the bus. So far we have not seen the colorful buses, complete with chickens and fruit hanging out of everywhere…but they do exist, just more out in the country. The last kind of bus is the big “Grey Hound” type that is air conditioned, with large roomy seats—one for each passenger, and nothing in the aisles!—and bathrooms. These large buses are used on main highways between large cities.
Except for riding in the very large, air conditioned buses, riding the bus involves sweating, being very close to your fellow man, sometimes breathing fumes, and above all—noise. I don’t think we have ever been in a bus (or a taxi, if it comes to that) that did not have music playing. Sometimes VERY LOUD.
Once, when we were on our way to the city of Monteria to pick up our new car, we settled into one of the large, air conditioned buses and breathed a sigh of relief, expecting a peaceful ride…only to find that the music was blaring from the speakers at an ear-splitting level. For an hour and a half, no one complained; then, inexplicably, the volume was turned down, somewhat.
So we are delighted to have our car. So far, we have, somehow, not turned the radio on once, and have played only one CD, of very quiet, classical music.
Actually, the music of Colombia is very beautiful, and we appreciate the many styles there are. It’s the volume that…. Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you!
At the moment we do not have a house of our own, and therefore of course, no phone line or broad band of our own; thus we do our e-mail and internet work from internet cafes. This has turned out to be quite an adventure!! First of all, some internet cafes are air conditioned; some not…. Of course we prefer the air conditioned ones….but one takes what one can get! Secondly, one is never sure of the quality of the computer, or the connection one gets. Sometimes the monitor is large…or small…clear and easy to see, or old and blurry. Likewise the keyboard: many of them have been used so much that the letters are literally worn off the keyboard. The keyboard is configured differently, so that the question mark, quotation marks, colon and semi-colon and many other things are in a different location than one is accustomed to. Sometimes certain letters don’t work. One evening we were delighted to find an air conditioned internet café…but spent some hilarious minutes trying to construct an e-mail to our kids on a keyboard on which the “c” and the “s” did not work. Jut try writing omething enible to a friend omtime and ee if they an undertand it!!
The internet tech guys in these internet cafes have been extremely helpful… They love a puzzle and seem indefatiguable in trying to solve whatever arcane questions we bring. They try and try until we are exhausted and say we have to go…and still they assure us that they will have it figured out “manana.”
I am working on one of their computers right now, while they try to solve a puzzle on my lap top. An ant crawls across the keyboard and dies, with my help, on the bbbbbbbbbb.
Church…
Church is first and foremost supposed to be a place to worship God and learn about Him. However, it cannot help but be a process profoundly affected by culture. U.S. Presbyterians are, generally, accustomed to a certain order of service: hymns, liturgy, a choir, a sermon. Baptists also have hymns…or now days, contemporary choruses, announcements, offering, the sermon, perhaps an invitation. Episcopalians generally have more liturgy, more formal hymns, more standing and kneeling, and the sermon is likely based on, or incorporates, the Scripture readings of the day. Presumably, our Lord is honored in any of these services, but they are profoundly different in content and in “feel.” Most of us native U.S. church-goers could probably be dropped, blind-folded, into a Southern Baptist service, or an Episcopalian one, maybe even a Presbyterian one…and identify which “sub-culture” we are in within five minutes.
In northern Colombia, the churches we have been in have been characterized by a prolonged period of singing and worship…sometimes as long as 45 minutes or longer. In many churches there are guitarists, a drummer, a keyboard artist and numerous singers. The worship leader occasionally pauses amidst the singing to pray, but it is sometimes difficult to distinguish the praying from the singing because the prayer begins quietly, but has a certain cadence and rhythm, slowly increases in volume and reaches a crescendo of sorts, after which singing begins again, or there may be a transition to Sunday School or a sermon. In these churches when one person prays, other people often pray along, not exactly silently, so that soon there is a whole murmur of prayer by all. The people are practiced in this art, and join the leader in the gradual crescendo of sound and emotion, seeming to know when to allow it to subside.
Another characteristic of many of these churches is that they love music—the louder the better. Most churches, unless very poor, have some kind of sound system, complete with microphones, keyboard, and speakers—often cranked up as high as they will go.
We attended two churches recently in one Sunday morning. The first was in a comparatively poor neighborhood, although not the poorest of the poor: in this neighborhood most of the houses, though small, are of cement; whereas in the poorest neighborhoods (where the displaced people have recently moved in) houses are often of wood, corrugated tin, flour sacking, or any combination thereof. This church had its own building, made of cement, a good roof and electricity. Therefore they also had overhead fans, which helped a lot! And they had microphones, speakers and keyboard. The drummer was a boy of about twelve, and wow!! could he play! The Sunday school rooms however, had no cement floor—just dirt, and the “rooms” were actually separated not by walls, but by flour sacking. The worship was as described above, except that, actually, the music was not too loud.
The second church we visited was one of the largest and oldest in the city of Monteria, and is located downtown. The building is similar to any small or medium-sized sanctuary in the U.S., except that the floors are of tile, and still, there is no air conditioning, just overhead fans and wide open windows. The sound equipment was much more sophisticated and was accompanied by Power Point projections.
Noise!
We have lived in Latin America before and remember that there is much more noise than North Americans are accustomed to… But, Wow! Is there noise!!
I am sitting at our plastic, dining room table/desk at our temporary apartment in Tolu, on the 3rd floor. From here, right now, I can hear: a rooster crowing… He does this off and on all day, not only at dawn; he just begins about 4:30 a.m. or 5:00. I had never thought about it much before, but the rooster’s crow is sort of mournful, not cheery. Other birds are chirping and singing, too, and earlier this morning we heard the raucous “party noise” of the little green loras (parrots) who always fly in groups and sound very happy! Besides the rooster, I can hear the bleats of sheep that are kept in the yard two blocks away, and if I stand and look out the window, I can see the sheep…and anything else going on in that yard. Yesterday some animal sounded like it was having a heart attack…might have been a donkey, or a pig: couldn’t tell.
Then, vehicles drive by with loud speakers, announcing things for sale, upcoming events, or outlining the political platform of a particular candidate for election. And sometimes, people play music…for all the world, apparently. One afternoon recently someone two blocks away was playing music so loud that our windows rattled and we could not hear each other at all. We could look down into their yard and see the gigantic speakers pointed right in our direction. After awhile, when we were literally in pain from the noise, we decided to take a walk on the beach, and stopped by where the speakers were to find out the cause of this…extreme experience. Turns out, it was someone’s birthday, and part of the bash was to have the person with speakers come and play loud music… So we went to walk on the beach where we could not hear it, and when we came home, went into the air conditioned room, grateful for the first time, that the air conditioner was noisy enough to drown out the other.
Public Transportation
At first, when we did not have a car, we rode buses all the time…or walked, or used the small yellow taxis that are ubiquitous here. There are no cars in the U.S. as diminutive as those little taxis.
There are at least three sizes, or types, of buses in our part of Colombia: the smallest is roughly the size of a large van in the U.S. and is used for local transport, or between small towns. The next size up is the size of a small bus, or a school bus in the U.S. Both of these style of buses are completely open air (no AC) and get filled as full as they can hold, with luggage being stuffed on laps, under chairs, or sometimes up on top of the bus. So far we have not seen the colorful buses, complete with chickens and fruit hanging out of everywhere…but they do exist, just more out in the country. The last kind of bus is the big “Grey Hound” type that is air conditioned, with large roomy seats—one for each passenger, and nothing in the aisles!—and bathrooms. These large buses are used on main highways between large cities.
Except for riding in the very large, air conditioned buses, riding the bus involves sweating, being very close to your fellow man, sometimes breathing fumes, and above all—noise. I don’t think we have ever been in a bus (or a taxi, if it comes to that) that did not have music playing. Sometimes VERY LOUD.
Once, when we were on our way to the city of Monteria to pick up our new car, we settled into one of the large, air conditioned buses and breathed a sigh of relief, expecting a peaceful ride…only to find that the music was blaring from the speakers at an ear-splitting level. For an hour and a half, no one complained; then, inexplicably, the volume was turned down, somewhat.
So we are delighted to have our car. So far, we have, somehow, not turned the radio on once, and have played only one CD, of very quiet, classical music.
Actually, the music of Colombia is very beautiful, and we appreciate the many styles there are. It’s the volume that…. Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you!
Friday, July 13, 2007
Some Thoughts on Going (Back) to the Mission Field after 55....
--you can, without a pang of conscience, get rid of all kinds of accumulated
household goods that are too old to sell, but too good to trash
--you realize you can’t expect as much of yourself in terms of stamina…and you
shouldn’t
--your kids suddenly stop taking you for granted and decide they will miss you
--when middle-aged parents leave the nest and dismantle it, their fledglings must not
only learn to fly, but how to assemble and manage a nest; the growing up process
is accelerated and facilitated
--a few honest people tell you that you are crazy—and you agree
--you no longer expect to change the world…or even make much of a dent in the
godlessness and misery…but you have to try anyway
--some people say they admire you…which is disconcerting: obedience should be
normal, not admired. If obedience is admirable…does that mean disobedience is
acceptable?
household goods that are too old to sell, but too good to trash
--you realize you can’t expect as much of yourself in terms of stamina…and you
shouldn’t
--your kids suddenly stop taking you for granted and decide they will miss you
--when middle-aged parents leave the nest and dismantle it, their fledglings must not
only learn to fly, but how to assemble and manage a nest; the growing up process
is accelerated and facilitated
--a few honest people tell you that you are crazy—and you agree
--you no longer expect to change the world…or even make much of a dent in the
godlessness and misery…but you have to try anyway
--some people say they admire you…which is disconcerting: obedience should be
normal, not admired. If obedience is admirable…does that mean disobedience is
acceptable?
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
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Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
The Colombia Adventure
God’s Answer to: “Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread”
God led me to business approaches for ministry. I began as a missionary with the Latin America Mission in 1974. Ministry with college students in Latin America resulted in a service enterprise, a dormitory residence for 26 students complete with full-time cook and house administrator. This ideal context for student ministry was run as a business simply because we did not have the funds to sustain it in any other way. When the Christian students in the dorm helped start an outreach project in a slum community, they decided that a community survey should be the first point of contact with the people, and the results of this survey demonstrated that the greatest need was for jobs for the women, who in the majority of cases were the sole providers for the children. The concept of helping the women make bean bag furniture was presented, because it was a productive economic activity they could do at home while watching the children, I had no idea that this was going to be so successful. The project changed the life of the community economically, and in the process created the foundations for a Bible study that evolved into a church.
I was so impressed by this experience that I went to the University of Michigan Graduate School of Business to study how business can be used to address the needs of the poor. My classmates were studying how to be CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, so I had no idea that I would find several professors who were very interested in helping me. One had worked with the International Labour Organization in Geneva, and assigned me several projects related to “the informal sector.” Another was working on small business projects with the World Bank, and my professor of international marketing had been a missionary in Africa.
When I graduated with the MBA degree, I was offered a position with the Institute for International Development, a Christian agency that helped the poor through economic development. They hired me to organize a micro enterprise project in Honduras in 1979, the first of several I would help start through that organization, which is now called Opportunity International.
I am so fortunate to go back where I started, through the Latin America Mission, where business has long been an acceptable tool for the ministry of the church, and work in job creation for displaced people in Colombia.
Pity the internally displaced of Colombia! Now that the country has become relatively more secure, there are few programs to help them go home. Theoretically, resettlement programs should be a top priority – get the refugees back home and self sufficient. But there are no programs for this in many places in Colombia today.
Latin America Mission (LAM) began serving in Colombia in 1936, specifically addressing health needs in what then was the state of Bolívar, now divided into Sucre, Córdoba, and Bolívar. This was a difficult area: poor, hot, and ravaged by typhoid and other diseases. The LAM center of operations was Sincelejo, with significant operations also in Monteria and Cartagena. Health centers, schools, and a center for agricultural production were all part of the program. So it should come as no surprise that the LAM is now working with a local agency, Desarrollo Intergral, to help in the reconstruction of this area of Colombia.
It is possible to travel by bus from Cartagena to Sincelejo, and throughout the region. The rebels have either left the area or gone underground, and the paramilitary squads have been disbanded. The people are returning to the rural and small towns they had to abandon. But they need help.
Desarrollo Integral has begun a revolving credit fund to generate income and employment in the region. Small loans that average $350 are helping people to re-start their commercial activity, whether urban or rural. Total capital secured for this program so far is less than $30,000, and additional resources are needed, whether donated to the venture capital fund, or lent to the locally registered small business lender in Colombia.
The LAM has provided training for small business entrepreneurs, many of whom are women and youth. Due to the civil war and migration patterns, the majority of the families in the region are dependent on women and young people to generate income. Yet these are two groups of people whose needs are least addressed by government or other international agency services, that tend to be focused on incentives to end the civil war, i.e. incentives for ex-combatants.
Desarrollo Integral has located a site for a permanent Center for Training in Entrepreneurship. This facility has housing for 42 participants, and also land and additional areas for business incubator operations and warehousing. The total cost for this facility is less than the cost of a home in Miami.
Four ways that Desarrollo Integral is creating work opportunities include:
Service Businesses – the development of self-sustaining enterprises such as clinics, dental offices, schools, and bookstores, where the project charges a fee for services. Some of these projects have a wide impact, The Betel school in Sincelejo, Colombia (elementary and high school) has over 600 students, and a loan for expanding its physical plant.
Endowment Enterprises - for a local foundation for long-term support of social projects. For example, an agricultural project that produces chickens and pigs was created to support the children’s programs, channeling thousands of dollars of direct financial support for day care centers.
Business Incubators – the creation of new businesses for target populations needing income or employment, but not having a background or experience in productive economic activity. The business idea is generated by the ministry. Training, production, sales, and all assets are controlled by the ministry until participants have learned to manage the business on their own.
Micro Credit Programs – revolving loan programs for people who have a business idea, and usually some experience, and who, with additional capital, can generate funds to pay back the loan with interest. The programs require an administrative unit capable of organizing basic paperwork, evaluating loan proposals, disbursing loans, providing training, collecting loans, and financial reporting. The program in Colombia operates a small loans program averaging $350/family, to allow poor people to begin to fully support their families.
I will help with these programs, as a missionary-consultant able to promote training and assistance, the viability of economic projects, and governance and a staffing structure that is self-reliant.
Before coming back to the LAM as President in 1999, Befus started many of the Opportunity International programs in Latin America, and also helped World Vision develop its micro-finance programs in Latin America, Africa, and Eastern Europe. He wrote a book on the implementation of economic development programs called “Where There Are No Jobs.”
God led me to business approaches for ministry. I began as a missionary with the Latin America Mission in 1974. Ministry with college students in Latin America resulted in a service enterprise, a dormitory residence for 26 students complete with full-time cook and house administrator. This ideal context for student ministry was run as a business simply because we did not have the funds to sustain it in any other way. When the Christian students in the dorm helped start an outreach project in a slum community, they decided that a community survey should be the first point of contact with the people, and the results of this survey demonstrated that the greatest need was for jobs for the women, who in the majority of cases were the sole providers for the children. The concept of helping the women make bean bag furniture was presented, because it was a productive economic activity they could do at home while watching the children, I had no idea that this was going to be so successful. The project changed the life of the community economically, and in the process created the foundations for a Bible study that evolved into a church.
I was so impressed by this experience that I went to the University of Michigan Graduate School of Business to study how business can be used to address the needs of the poor. My classmates were studying how to be CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, so I had no idea that I would find several professors who were very interested in helping me. One had worked with the International Labour Organization in Geneva, and assigned me several projects related to “the informal sector.” Another was working on small business projects with the World Bank, and my professor of international marketing had been a missionary in Africa.
When I graduated with the MBA degree, I was offered a position with the Institute for International Development, a Christian agency that helped the poor through economic development. They hired me to organize a micro enterprise project in Honduras in 1979, the first of several I would help start through that organization, which is now called Opportunity International.
I am so fortunate to go back where I started, through the Latin America Mission, where business has long been an acceptable tool for the ministry of the church, and work in job creation for displaced people in Colombia.
Pity the internally displaced of Colombia! Now that the country has become relatively more secure, there are few programs to help them go home. Theoretically, resettlement programs should be a top priority – get the refugees back home and self sufficient. But there are no programs for this in many places in Colombia today.
Latin America Mission (LAM) began serving in Colombia in 1936, specifically addressing health needs in what then was the state of Bolívar, now divided into Sucre, Córdoba, and Bolívar. This was a difficult area: poor, hot, and ravaged by typhoid and other diseases. The LAM center of operations was Sincelejo, with significant operations also in Monteria and Cartagena. Health centers, schools, and a center for agricultural production were all part of the program. So it should come as no surprise that the LAM is now working with a local agency, Desarrollo Intergral, to help in the reconstruction of this area of Colombia.
It is possible to travel by bus from Cartagena to Sincelejo, and throughout the region. The rebels have either left the area or gone underground, and the paramilitary squads have been disbanded. The people are returning to the rural and small towns they had to abandon. But they need help.
Desarrollo Integral has begun a revolving credit fund to generate income and employment in the region. Small loans that average $350 are helping people to re-start their commercial activity, whether urban or rural. Total capital secured for this program so far is less than $30,000, and additional resources are needed, whether donated to the venture capital fund, or lent to the locally registered small business lender in Colombia.
The LAM has provided training for small business entrepreneurs, many of whom are women and youth. Due to the civil war and migration patterns, the majority of the families in the region are dependent on women and young people to generate income. Yet these are two groups of people whose needs are least addressed by government or other international agency services, that tend to be focused on incentives to end the civil war, i.e. incentives for ex-combatants.
Desarrollo Integral has located a site for a permanent Center for Training in Entrepreneurship. This facility has housing for 42 participants, and also land and additional areas for business incubator operations and warehousing. The total cost for this facility is less than the cost of a home in Miami.
Four ways that Desarrollo Integral is creating work opportunities include:
Service Businesses – the development of self-sustaining enterprises such as clinics, dental offices, schools, and bookstores, where the project charges a fee for services. Some of these projects have a wide impact, The Betel school in Sincelejo, Colombia (elementary and high school) has over 600 students, and a loan for expanding its physical plant.
Endowment Enterprises - for a local foundation for long-term support of social projects. For example, an agricultural project that produces chickens and pigs was created to support the children’s programs, channeling thousands of dollars of direct financial support for day care centers.
Business Incubators – the creation of new businesses for target populations needing income or employment, but not having a background or experience in productive economic activity. The business idea is generated by the ministry. Training, production, sales, and all assets are controlled by the ministry until participants have learned to manage the business on their own.
Micro Credit Programs – revolving loan programs for people who have a business idea, and usually some experience, and who, with additional capital, can generate funds to pay back the loan with interest. The programs require an administrative unit capable of organizing basic paperwork, evaluating loan proposals, disbursing loans, providing training, collecting loans, and financial reporting. The program in Colombia operates a small loans program averaging $350/family, to allow poor people to begin to fully support their families.
I will help with these programs, as a missionary-consultant able to promote training and assistance, the viability of economic projects, and governance and a staffing structure that is self-reliant.
Before coming back to the LAM as President in 1999, Befus started many of the Opportunity International programs in Latin America, and also helped World Vision develop its micro-finance programs in Latin America, Africa, and Eastern Europe. He wrote a book on the implementation of economic development programs called “Where There Are No Jobs.”
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