A Colorful Celebration

On the Danger of Living on the Caribbean Coast of Colombia

We have been living in Sincelejo for over a year now, and have been happy to host visiting donors and investors, student interns, and short term church groups. Due to a recent article in a magazine that many of you receive, we want to assure you and our families that this is a safe place to visit, to send short term work groups, and for student interns.

The magazine article, though in the most recent edition of the magazine, was written in 2003, and refers to events that happened in 2002. It is true that this area of Colombia was dangerous at that time. As the LAM president, I was invited here to speak at the annual pastor's retreat in 2001, and had to be very careful. They made me fly into Sincelejo in a small airplane, as the roads were not secure. The fact that I was the speaker was not announced until the convention began. One of the topics of discussion during the meetings was the impact of the violence on the churches, and on the lives of many pastors.

However, that was a long time ago. Since that time, a lot has changed for the better, and this is one of the reasons that we are working in economic development, rebuilding the capacity of people to support themselves through work. Of course, there are still dangerous areas, especially related to drugs, but they are far from here, and can be avoided.

Perhaps the most dangerous aspect of living here is my morning jog. When I am on the surface roads, both the buses and the motorcycles seem to delight in getting as close to me as they can.... so I hold out my elbow to keep them away. When I turn on to the gravel roads, I have to look ahead to make sure there are not cattle and pigs blocking my way, and at the university campus, where I run around the track, I have to keep a lookout for snakes and slippery cow pies. One day, as I was concentrating on avoiding problems on the ground, I hit my head very hard on a tree branch and not only bumped my head, but strained my knee.

Why run? My wife is a very good cook and I like to eat. So if I do not run, the other danger would be a heart attack. One danger offsets the other.... But for those who are planning to visit us here in the Northern Coast of Colombia, I hope you will feel free to do so. It is not dangerous. The only thing we might suggest is, don't go jogging.

The Bag of Mysteries

I carry around with me a bag of mysteries, that I have been adding to all my life. You probably have one, too.

In that bag are questions like: “Why does God heal some people and not others?” “Why does he allow such suffering?” “How does he ‘predestine’ some people for salvation and yet allow us free will?” I have studied such questions extensively, and know the “answers,” such as they are, and also have come to understand that while we should seek to understand such things, there are no truly sufficient answers, for these questions involve mysteries too deep for us. So these issues stay in my “Mystery Bag.”

And I add to the Mystery Bag as I grow older, with such questions as:
--When I see others suffer deeply, why is it that some respond so poorly and others so humbly and nobly? How is it that I, no more worthy than others, am free from such suffering at the moment?
--Why is it that some Christians can lie, slander and do abusive acts, yet still act hypocritically spiritual and God does, apparently, nothing? Why doesn’t God, as in the case of Ananias and Sapphira, strike them dead?
--But then, how is it that he tolerates—much less uses—any of us?
--How is it that an omnipresent, omniscient, totally sovereign God is so absolutely, so absurdly committed to the free will of the creatures he has made?
--And why does he love us so much? We are surely not worth all the heartache and trouble we have caused. This is, perhaps, the grandest mystery of all: the Blue Ribbon one, the “Tour de France” of mysteries.
As I get older, there are more and more mysteries in my bag. Paradoxically, though, it does not get heavier. In fact, it gets lighter. It is a relief to know that someone so much larger than I, and so infinitely, inexplicably loving, carries and holds all the bags of mysteries in the universe that my small mind cannot begin to wrap itself around.

Mary had a bag of mysteries, too; Mary, the mother of Jesus.
I doubt she understood exactly how she conceived the inconceivable child she carried, then nursed and diapered.

I am sure she thought about it, but could not explain why she was chosen for this ineffable honor, or the arduous shame that went with it.

She probably could not really wrap her mind around the true identity of her first-born, much less the suffering predicted for him; even though he came wrapped in her body.
“Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart,” says Luke. No doubt her bag of mysteries expanded as she aged, also.

While I do not worship Mary, I do have a profound respect for this young woman who responded to the particular bag of personal mysteries handed to her, along with their attendant suffering and perplexity, with the answer, “At your service, Lord, for whatever you say.”

Mary’s was not a “blind faith.” She stored away all her memories, and pondered them. But she never allowed her questions or her wondering to derail her worshipful obedience to Mr. Mystery himself.

Unexpected Assignments

We want God to give us assignments. After all, we are here on earth still, to be of some use to his Kingdom—although we also know God does not need anything— least of all us. Still, he has prepared in advance good works for us to do, so we seek and await his assignments. Often they are somewhat in line with what we expect: train for a particular service, be active in an honorable profession, preach, testify, share, disciple, go somewhere…

But then, God also gives us assignments we do not expect. Some of them are:
Loneliness. Many North Americans assume that loneliness is the result of a personality dysfunction, a lack of effort, or a deficiency in social skills. Sometimes, of course, they are right. But other times loneliness is not something we are “doing wrong,” it is just part of the current assignment. Jesus, without a doubt, must have experienced loneliness—except of course, that he was so close to his father. That might, come to think of it, be part of what a loneliness assignment is about.
Boredom. Life is a balancing act: sometimes there is too much stress, sometimes there is not enough. It is pretty hard to get the balance just right for very long at a time. How a person deals with either extreme probably says a great deal about their maturity—not to mention their ability to perceive their assignments.
Surviving Slander. We know slander and lies are out there in the world. When others experience this ugliness, we feel for them, but seldom with the outrage we experience when it is directed at us. And when slander is from the “world”—meaning non-Christians—we try not to be shocked, realizing we are to expect persecution. When it comes from inside the house of faith, it takes more mental gymnastics to understand that responding in a godly way to slander from behind our own lines is part, as 1 Peter says, of our vocation.
Heartache. We know this comes with life. We know God has experienced it. Our own peculiar pain or heartache, in its particularity, however, usually comes as a surprise. We didn’t expect it. We didn’t know how much it would hurt. It is not supposed to be this way—whatever it is. It takes us awhile to realize that when we stood up and sang “I Surrender All,” this was part of the “all.” This particular heartache is the current assignment.
Wait. Some people, especially efficiency-conscious Westerners, think wait is a four-letter-word. But God’s people have often spent weeks, months and years waiting. Abraham and Sarah probably top the list, but then there may be cases we don’t know about. The important thing is to still be listening carefully to God and learning what we should be while waiting so that when the moment for action comes, even if it is only one moment, we are the kind of people who know how to make the most of it. It is a wise person who knows how to wait well. I suppose that God does a lot of waiting for us. We can learn from him.
Do nothing. Do nothing is a surprising one for our U.S. culture. We think we must be doing something; think we must be in control, taking some action. It should not come as a surprise that “do nothing” often goes with some of the above assignments: waiting, boredom, being slandered, loneliness. Perhaps especially during those assignments we should be careful to do nothing until it is very clear what God wants us to do. George MacDonald wrote: “One of the hardest demands on the obedience of faith is to do nothing; it is often so much easier to do something foolishly.”*
Give up a Sacrifice. Our Lord may ask us to sacrifice something, and arduously, we make up our minds to do so, and adapt. But he can “change his mind,” to speak anthropomorphically—or, from our point of view, he can reverse his demands. He is Lord. We must be careful to give up a sacrifice that may have become part of our identity if He no longer demands it. And we must not sacrifice, on the altar of pride, something He is not asking us to. “To obey is better than sacrifice.”
Relax. Rest. Enjoy. Yes. God gives these assignments also. Perhaps much more often than we realize. Are we listening? Do we obey?

Obedience is all. And a “long obedience in the same direction”** is faithfulness, which is what God most wants from us. We never know just what assignment he might have up his sleeve: he at least, is never boring. The trick, of course, is to recognize the assignments for what they are, and lean on his strength for the task at hand, knowing he will not give us an assignment that has no purpose, and for which he will not provide all the resources necessary.
Even doing nothing.

*The Peasant Girl’s Dream, p. 154.
**Eugene Peterson: title of one of his books.

Amazing Things on 2 or 4 Wheels

First Roots

A pastor with a church in Pan de Dios (Bread of God) invited David to preach there on Sunday, and David agreed. The pastor picked us up in his four-wheel drive pick-up at 8:30 a.m. and it took us about 45 minutes to get out to the rural area where this church is. As we drove off the main highway and into the rolling hills on a winding dirt road, I thought to myself, “Hmmm, good thing it’s a nice dry morning; I’d hate to see what this road is like when it rains…” Little did I know.
In due time, the church service started and then David preached. At the end of the service the pastor picked up something beige, about the size of two footballs, and held it up with two hands. He explained that this was an offering from a local farmer of First Fruits (primicias), the very first, and unusually large product of harvest from a crop of ñame, a tuber that is grown and eaten here. It is kind of like yuca (manioc) except that it is much bigger and (if possible) has even less taste. This huge ñame was given to David in gratitude, we suppose, for his sermon.
Shortly after David sat down and the pastor stood up for the “first roots” presentation and other announcements, it began to rain, then pour, then pour some more. The service ended and the people waited patiently for the rain to stop: most of them had come on foot. After about an hour, the rain finally stopped. The mud in front of the church was about three inches deep and the exact color and texture of chocolate frosting. The people took their shoes off, rolled up their pants, and set out. The pastor told us that some of them had more than an hour to walk to get home. Would you walk an hour to get to church?
The pastor then informed us that they were going to serve us lunch there at the church and we sat on plastic chairs and waited in an open thatch-roofed area. After the rain it was nice and cool. We asked the pastor´s wife how Sunday School had gone, and she told us, explaining that many of the children (and even some adults) cannot read. The pastor added that many girls in this rural area are married by age 14.
After lunch, which was a sancocho (soup) of chicken, with rice, yuca, ñame and plaintain, the pastor announced that we still needed to wait for an hour or more “for the road to dry out.” Finally, the pastor put his wheels in four-wheel drive, and we set out. It was like driving in soft butter and just as difficult as driving on solid ice, a main difference being that ice does not throw globs of brown stuff up onto the windows. I held my breath as the truck slid softly back and forth across the width of the road, expecting at any moment to slip off the road and down the bank into a field or gully. I fully visualized having to take off my shoes and walk several miles to the paved road. But after a few minutes of suspense we got to a piece of road where (thank You, Lord!) it had not rained nearly so much. Then we got to a road that was quite steep and twisty, but it stayed dry enough that we didn´t slip.
We were profoundly grateful to get home, and somewhat mystified as to what to do with 15 pounds of ñame... but we´ll think of something.


Management Consulting in Colombia

On November 1 the oversight of the ADIN loan program was formally transferred to Colombian manager, Sael, and my (David's) role changes to "consultant." This is a good thing, and also frees me up to work on the Honduras project, and to be involved helping other organizations, such as a CMA project in Bogota that I visited this past week.
The program management is actually a bit more complicated than what is presented in my book, Where There Are No Jobs, and we have a detailed 16-page manual that describes what employees must do. There is a rhythm of over $20,000 to be placed in small projects each month, and planning is required to make sure that good projects are ready to be funded. We also now expect at least one project in each new group of about a dozen to exhibit problems, and to require special attention. The training sessions must be programmed in advance.
As we come to the end of the first year of operation, we are inviting all of the business principals to come to Sincelejo on November 29 to celebrate. It will be an opportunity for many to showcase their products or promote their services. The president of the AIEC denomination, that helped to give birth to the project, will present a message. I am preparing an analysis of how businesses have performed, and recommending some adjustments in the training and financing from ADIN. We will also have a round table discussion of loan clients themselves, modeled somewhat on how the president of Colombia organizes interactive community meetings.
A prospective manager for the Honduran project is coming to Colombia for training, and we are hopeful that the program there will begin during the second half of January, 2009. As I work on this, I am reminded again of how many complex issues need to be addressed in organizing these projects. I have the material for book #2: Where There Are No Jobs and What To Do About It.

Loans by Phone?

David doesn’t get as many of these calls as he used to, now that Sael and Javier manage a lot of the ADIN daily business…but he still gets them occasionally. Someone will call his cell phone and ask if they can have a loan, expecting, apparently, for David to say, “Sure, how much?” and authorize, over the phone, a substantial loan to a person he doesn’t know. I suppose the details of where and how to pick up the money would be arranged later?
Astonishing as it may seem, this has happened repeatedly. Many Colombians apparently believe that not only are all gringos rich, but they have come to Colombia for the express purpose of giving away money to anyone who asks for it. While we have encountered similar phenomena in other countries before, we have never seen this idea held so strongly and so irrationally by so many people. Needless to say, this attitude has endlessly complicated the daily business of teaching people that ADIN is a serious small loan agency that only gives loans to small businesses that have been carefully investigated and found to be viable. Furthermore, ADIN fully expects to have its loans paid back, on time, or the arm of Colombian law will be invoked. In some cases, the arm of the law has indeed been invoked.
But still, every once in awhile, David shakes his head as he hangs up the phone: another hopeful, but misled Colombian thought he could get a loan just by calling the gringo…
In fact, Sael and Javier sometimes discourage David from going to certain locations on loan program business; people tend to think the gringo has money, regardless of what anyone says.
If only they knew…

“Bring your Machete!”

Most of ADIN’s loan recipients are, in fact, paying back their loans. In each community bank formed by 10-20 people, there is often at least one person who does not pay on time, for one reason or another. But per their original contract, the rest of the group does, as promised, cover the defaulted payment. Sometimes it is just a timing issue and the group gets paid back later. Sometimes the person who misses the payment is sick, or has had serious, legitimate troubles, like the loan recipient who recently got hit by a car and has been in intensive care at the hospital: it is obvious that he will be late with his payments for awhile, and both his group and ADIN can work with that reality.
But every now and then the community bank groups, and therefore ADIN staff, come across a person who apparently took the loan and never intended to pay it back in the first place. A prime example of this is a woman in San Onofre who was a church-goer, and signed all the loan documents everyone else does for a small fish store. However, when her fellow group and church members went to collect her first payment she said, “Well, I’m not paying, and if you come back to try to collect, bring your machete!”
She has not been seen in church since.
We are reminded, now and then, that this is a violent country, and that the tendency to explode into bloodshed lurks just below the rhythm of daily life.
It has also become abundantly clear to David, Sael, Javier and the church association leaders here on the Board of ADIN, that there is nothing like a community bank and loan program to scratch the surface of a person’s character and find out just what lies beneath a veneer of religiosity.

A Safe Solution

The Board of ADIN this past week dealt effectively with a problem that has long concerned David: the problem of the danger to him, or to Sael or Javier, of being known to be carrying large sums of money to disburse to the different community banks that become approved.
It was not so much of a problem when David began and there was “just him,” and not too many loans. But there are now 400 loans, some 31 community banks, and there is money coming and going all the time. The program is known, and so are the people who do the work and carry the money. In this country that is dangerous. But….the money clearly needs to come—and go.
Collections are not so much of a problem: community bank members often bring their payments in to the ADIN office. Only occasionally do ADIN staff members collect money and then on a random basis. It is the loan disbursements that are the real problem.
So the staff and Board members of ADIN put their heads together, talked, and scratched their heads, and talked some more. Finally they all agreed that the best thing to do, when a group loan needs to be disbursed, would be to have the typical loan disbursement meeting with all the people from the community bank, in the community, but not disburse the money at that time. Instead, the next day, two representatives from the community bank group should come to the ADIN office, and pick up their money.
It will be pretty hard for unscrupulous people to know just who loan recipients are, when they might come to the office, or how much money they might carry. David, Sael and Javier will no longer be carrying, or dispensing (away from the office) large amounts of money. But the work can go on.
Sigh of relief all around.

ET Phone Home

Some of us are extra-terrestrials. We are supposed to be, if we belong to Jesus—supposed to be—if heaven is our real home, that place we are homesick for without ever having seen. And it is the Father we have never seen whose embrace and whose lap we are homesick for, too. Supposedly.
I used to think, when I was in my twenties, watching the faces of “older” couples light up when they talked about their kids, or received a phone call or letter from their kids, that their lives must be fairly empty for them to get such joy out of a comparatively small thing…
I was young, and ignorant, and wrong.
I am older now and know better. I understand now that those parents of “grown up children” fell in love with those kids before they were even born, and by the time those babies were toddlers the parents were hopeless “goners,” in love for life. Nothing can dig out of those parents that besotted love for their kids: not jail, not drugs, not illness, nor rank stupidity nor ungratefulness. They just love their kids and want the best for them and always will. They are incurable.
Those parents probably do not have empty lives: they may be busy professionals deeply involved in organizations and in other people’s lives. But they will usually drop what they are doing for an e-mail or call from one of their own. And they can hardly hear too much from their kids! The parents want to know their kids’ news, rejoice in their triumphs, sympathize in their troubles, know how to pray, and be of help (if possible)—and maybe after all the years, be loved back. Being loved back, or not, does not affect the parents’ love, but it sure makes it a lot more fun.
Yes, a simple phone call can make an “older” parent’s day. I understand now.
And with tears in my eyes, I realize how besotted our Heavenly Father is, too. He is our model, the prototype parent, and He cannot be cured either. It does not matter that we don’t deserve His love. He put it all on the line for us ages ago, and all He really wants from us is…to be loved back.
So phone home, ET. Make His day.

Settled, but...

I realized as I moved smoothly around my kitchen the other day, making a meal, what a long way I have come since last October. That is due, partly, to having learned what ingredients are available here, and how to work with them. I have learned to adapt a number of recipes, or create new ones, so that we have a variety of healthy foods to eat. Another reason, though, that food preparation is easier is that David has helped make changes in the kitchen that make life a lot easier: we had two pieces of furniture made for the kitchen: one houses the microwave and toaster oven, and the other provides some badly needed counter space. Before there was almost nowhere to work. We got the oven working, after 5 visits from the “Oven Man,” and David installed an overhead fan and light that makes working in the kitchen a pleasure instead of a sweaty misery. That all helps.

Our living room and bedroom are nicely furnished and enjoyable to be in, due to our purchasing the necessary furniture here. We have painstakingly brought down, in suitcases, some of our wall decorations, music and family photos that help make it home. In our dining room we have a good table and chairs, but continue to use a large box as our “buffet.” However, the dining room table serves a dual purpose much of the time: one end is for eating, the other often has two computers on it, plus piles of Bibles, a Spanish-English dictionary and papers we are working on. Our guest bedroom is empty, but that makes it a great place to exercise! Guest bedroom furniture, a good desk, file cabinets, book shelves…and the buffet for the dining room, are all in our condo in Key Largo, and our plan has been to bring that furniture down inexpensively when that condo sells. When….

There is a wire strung from the telephone connection in the dining room back to our bedroom…this is a function of the fact that our Internet provider has given us a highly dysfunctional modem, which does not reach to where we need it. One of their technicians told us the modem was defective, and to ask for a new one. But so far the company has ignored our repeated requests to replace it or to come and fix the telephone connection so the modem might work in another area. So…wires. So be it, we try to be thankful when the modem works, and wait to see what will happen.

But although how the house looks, and functions, are important to me, they are not really the most important aspects of being “settled.” More important to me are: meaningful ministry to be engaged in, friendships, and recreations that help one rest, relax and stay healthy.

Ministry: I have been glad to still be involved in the Member Care work of the LAM in this past year, and some months it kept me more than occupied. But I would also love to be investing in relationships, discipleship and teaching here in Colombia. The few invitations I have had to give workshops have been very welcome—even though they plunged me into serious work on upgrading my Spanish. I have enjoyed each opportunity, but so far have not seen those engagements develop into either more of the same or any ongoing kind of ministry. I’m not sure whether to conclude that I have not done well, that there is not a need for what I offer, or…. what. So I wait…and pray.

Friendships: without a natural context for “doing things” outside one’s house, it is not easy to make friendships—anywhere. In Sincelejo, most people have their long-established circles of family and friends, and no need for the unexpected and unpredictable presence of a foreigner. It is not like cities in the U.S. where there is a constant flow of people moving in and out and where churches, schools and community programs welcome and involve newcomers. This small city of Sincelejo has a complex web of inter-related political and family networks and connections. We do not know (although we are learning) who is related to whom, and who is of what political persuasion that has offended someone else, and what person or group to steer clear of because of some historical reason that we would not guess in a thousand years. We are also never sure how distasteful or problematic our being “gringos” is. Therefore, it is not easy to know how proactive to be in trying to build friendships. So…we pray.

Recreation is a challenge as well. I exercise in our empty guest bedroom. David tries to get his morning run in before the traffic starts, if it is not too muddy, by going on the “back roads” to the university. We have a few TV shows that provide a good combination of escape and culture, and I have a (dwindling) supply of books… Concerts, plays, and safe beautiful green areas are scarce as peacock’s teeth… So we are still trying to figure out where to go for a good healthy walk, hike or run in God’s green outdoors, and how to find other kinds of recreation.

Meaningful ministry, friendships, recreation: these are the pieces of a “longer term” stay in a foreign country that are always more challenging to figure out, and their resolution—or not—make that stay ultimately more or less difficult or fulfilling. I know this from years of working with missionaries. But while it is somewhat comforting to know that these issues are often difficult to resolve…that does not resolve them.

So: we are settled, but… we wait and pray for the God who has led us thus far to continue to show the way.

Looking Back, Looking Forward

Our first year here in Colombia has gone quickly, and there are so many things that have gone well. I am very happy about being able to help with almost 400 business projects, each one supporting at least one family, and in some cases supporting several. The fact that this is now being accomplished with two full-time staff (also with income from the program, and support for their families) who are paid 100% from the interest and fees generated by the program proves that the hypothesis of my book, initially entitled "Kingdom Business" and now in English with the title "Where There Are No Jobs," is actually possible: a church-based program with very little capital (the book says $50,000) can be financially sustainable and help many people. Furthermore, we now have monthly computerized financial statements, a staff procedures manual, and are organized to help other groups replicate the experience of Colombia.

But when I read the plan I wrote over a year ago, part of which is included as the first blog, I realize that this is one of several expectations that did not materialize. Even with the help of the website on Business As Mission, where they were kind enough to mention our program here and include the contact information, we have had no inquiries from mission agencies or Christian development groups. I had proposed a training center... to train who? Another part of the plan, as local staff was trained, was to become involved at the university level in training future entrepreneurs. My contact there, who had even talked about creating a graduate degree in entrepreneurship, became a victim of campus politics, and though I have occasional opportunities to make special presentations, the idea of creating a special program for job creation (so many college grads are unemployed!) has been lost.

So we need to rethink some things, as we look to the future. The transfer of the management of the loan program to national staff has already begun, so what will I now do with my time? Do we go to another place to begin another small economic development program? Or maybe look at universities in other cities, that are not so political? I have even thought of starting a program here for training small business entrepreneurs, perhaps with a certificate degree that does not require a university connection.

We see so many needs. And the concept of DOING GOOD as basis for Christian witness really works. Helping people have a job, and a way to support their family, is a fine way to DO GOOD. We look forward to discovering ways to continue to do this in the future.

Retreat Pictures

Retreat Gleanings

It was a cross-culturally fascinating experience to go on a retreat with 20 some young professionals from Sincelejo… First of all, we started almost two hours late—of course! This did not surprise me, but did mean the evening meeting (devotional and all) didn’t start until after 8 p.m. As the featured speaker, I figured it wasn’t my fault it started late, so I just did all that I had planned… They’re young…and staying up late didn’t phase them a bit.

All the women slept in two “women’s rooms” and all the men slept in one big “men’s room;” in itself that is not surprising—except that there were at least three married couples present. Given the situation, it took me a little while to figure out who was married to whom.

For breakfast each day we had yucca (manioc root) and white cheese, and—mercifully—coffee—made almost white with milk, but still, coffee.

When I had these young people break up into small groups for small group sharing or discussion, they did so willingly enough, but it took them a long time to actually get started on whatever the assignment was. Then, once they were “into it,” they were really into it, and it was hard to get them to stop and come back to the larger group. This is probably the result of the kind of educational system here (few opportunities for small groups and thinking for yourself), but they loved doing it. Learning for me: allow more time for small group work!

I had a hard time understanding some of the slang that is unique to this northern coast, not to mention the fast-flying witticisms and jokes that are an inevitable—and wonderful—part of this kind of gathering. (I have been comforted by the fact that many of their own countrymen cannot understand the Costeño, or northern coast slang.) Sunday evening, second night of the retreat, after the devotional, was specifically a time for stories and jokes. With infinite patience and delight these young people translated the jokes and tried to make sure I understood everything that was funny! How could I not love them? But, oh, it was good to finally get to bed!

I had taken along a bottle or two of drinking water…but ran out by the second day. So did everyone else, and strangely no one went anywhere to get water—although they talked about it. There was only one more day to go so I figured I’d survive: first thing I did when I got home was have a nice, ice-cold Coke!

It is a treat, now, to go to church and see a bunch of faces I know, and to have had a peek into their lives. Hopefully each person at the retreat has become more aware of God’s constant presence in everyday things…and lives more as if all mundane activities are indeed sacred—and for Him.

Measuring Impact: Where Do We Go From Here?
The first loans for many entrepreneurs have freed them from loan sharks that charge over 30% interest per month, i.e. almost 400% per year. Why do people get into such businesses? Because they have no other alternative for obtaining their “daily bread!”

Even marginal businesses paying 30% per month interest turn out to be quite profitable when this interest cost is eliminated, so we see many of our clients not only able to pay us back, but also able to capitalize their businesses through our loan program. This goal is emphasized also in our training sessions. A sign of success then, for many, is that they no longer need our program after four months (1st cycle) or ten months (second cycle). For example, a small store in San Mateo has the capital it needs, and doesn’t really need more. In fact, another loan might actually do harm by tempting the owner into areas that may be too risky, or into mere “consumer spending.”

Our goal is to help viable businesses grow; it is not to simply make people more “well off” and thus expose them to temptations they cannot handle. So we ask a lot of questions about the impact of the loan, to determine that further lending is really necessary.

What we are trying to do is find the entrepreneurs who can grow their businesses, and create jobs and income for others. The training sessions are designed to provide the management skills necessary for business owners to take their enterprise to a new level. And capital can be provided as well, if needed. But not everyone is interested – the store owner in San Mateo does not want to expand; and as a lady with a sewing business in Nova tells me, “to add more employees is to add problems.”

Others disagree, and have very interesting expansion plans. A gentleman who sells fruit and vegetables in Sincelejo already has two employees that he supplies with the same products he sells in his early morning (4 a.m.) trip to the market each day—only he maps out different sales route for the three of them. Several businesses that started with the rental of cell telephone minutes have evolved into also selling telephones, photocopies, and providing secretarial services.

What we are seeing now, in the ninth month of this project, are loan groups that are smaller in terms of numbers of clients, but for whom the loan amounts are larger as the entrepreneurs take on projects that are bigger and more complex.

This is, as you might imagine, a lot of fun. Where will we go from here?

more amazing things on two wheels....

Housework Here

Housework here takes longer, without a doubt. Very few people have clothes driers, for one thing; everyone dries their clothes on clotheslines in back rooms or patios—or on fences if they have them. This means the clothing feels stiff as boards when dry—and ironing is a must. I used to spend about one afternoon a week ironing, and that was a hot afternoon’s work, believe me.
We do not know anyone who has “central air conditioning;” if people have air conditioning, it is only in their bedrooms. Thus windows (usually without screens) are open all the time to let air in…and with the air, of course, comes dust—and whatever else…flies, mosquitoes, even occasionally, birds. Therefore furniture surfaces and floors get dirty and need to be cleaned often. Usually floors are tile (very little carpeting here, and not in our apartment) and keeping them clean means sweeping and mopping.
I now have a maid who comes two times a week: once for cleaning and once for ironing. Most people, even with less income than we have, have two maids all the time, everyday! One of the maids often does some of the shopping and most of the cooking. But I work at home, and can’t stand “that much company”! Besides, we are used to my cooking.
But cooking takes more time than it used to in the States, too. For one thing, the water out of the tap is not safe to drink. So all drinking water (including that for brushing teeth) comes from the spigot of a wonderful little ionizer filter we have. So one has to be careful in the kitchen about which water one is using. Also, the filter does not connect to an icemaker in the freezer, and we like a lot of ice in this climate, so someone needs to fill the ice trays at least once a day. All fruits and vegetables, especially lettuce, need to be carefully washed (with good water) and “spun dry.” There are fewer prepared and packaged foods, so I spend more time cutting and chopping, making my own salad dressings and sauces, and sometimes, cereal and bread. In many ways, because of ingredients that do not exist here (or I haven’t learned how to find them yet!) I have had to be more creative as a cook: David likes the results, and it can be fun, but….it all does take more time. It is a very, very good way for me to remember that the mundane is sacred… when I let it be so.

The Mayor’s Novel Idea

Some months back, after a Christian medical doctor was elected mayor in one of the townships outside of Sincelejo, he asked David to visit and talk about how an economic development program like David’s could be of help to poor people in his township. After several more conversations, visits, and a presentation David made to the mayor’s employees, there is a group of some 30 people formed into 3 community banks and soon they will receive loans.
But here’s the fascinating part: the money comes from the Colombian government. The mayor needed, and still wants, David’s expertise and the methodology that seems to be working well in other settings. He has access to government money for such help, but told David, “If the people think the money is from the government, they won’t pay back.” How fascinating! Our impression was that it is hard to get people to pay back if they think the money comes from a church source, or if you are a gringo… But David is learning, from all sources, that it is hard to get people to pay back, period. Needless to say, this makes the successful paybacks of the first loan cycles of the community banks David has started all the more impressive. But David is interested to see how his little “banks” will do in the second and third cycles.
And it will be intriguing to see how the thirty projects from the mayor’s township do, too. This is a grand experiment: government money processed through a Christian development agency, using the training and methodologies David has evolved, for the use and benefit of a township… How it will work economically will be fascinating to watch. And, meanwhile, the experiment provides the mayor, and David, with many practical opportunities to share the gospel and the benefits of doing business God’s way!
We’ll keep you posted!

The Math of Sacrifice

Sometimes it feels like a sacrifice to be here…sometimes it doesn’t.
We love the liveliness of this culture, the friendliness that pervades most social contacts, the verve and vivacity with which most things are done. We love all the fresh fruits and vegetables: it will probably take us months or years to learn the names (not to mention the uses) of the things that grow in this rich tropical climate.
We love driving through the beautiful, green, rolling countryside.
We enjoy our 5th floor apartment, in the middle of the city, with all of the unique Sincelejo noises that drift (or pierce) their way up to us.
David loves a trip off the asphalt road to see projects, and a good, down-to-earth talk with a group of loan recipients or prospects, wrestling with the “nitty gritty” details of how a business works—or not—or how to do things in a way that honors God and produces long term results, rather than, perhaps, “the easy way.” He comes home deeply satisfied from stuff like that.
Some “sacrifices” (like the housekeeping chores mentioned above) are small…but at certain times add up. Other things we miss are: U.S. TV, especially sports, concerts, and design shows. We miss U.S. newspapers, certain kinds of cheeses (e.g. cheddar, Swiss) either not available here or quite expensive, certain kinds of meats, a good Blockbuster video rental place…a mall. We miss hot water: no one has hot water here. Even the best hotel in Sincelejo ($200 a night) does not have hot water. Cold water showers can be refreshing on a hot afternoon, but at other times, rather shocking. We have opted to have at least one shower in the house with one of those contraptions (commonly called a “widow maker”—a name I find appalling!) that heats the water as it goes through. Until recently that meant the water was scalding, so we had a choice between cold water or boiling, but recently David fiddled with it, and the temperature is now acceptable: very little water pressure, but good temperature!
And every now and then (especially during thunder storms) the electricity goes off…meaning, not only no AC or fans for however long it is off, but very messed up modems and computers to deal with before one can “get on with life again.”
Mostly we miss intangible things like a safe, secure park or beach where we could get away from the city and go and enjoy a wide green or ocean vista without having to put up with a lot of noise and other people…or pay “an arm and a leg” to be there. It would be nice, some days, to not sweat… I suppose I should say, not perspire, but, hey, it’s hot here, and the heat drains your energy.
We miss quiet: the silence of a U.S. suburban neighborhood after 9:00 at night, restaurant music that does not bombard the ear, and church music that does not assault and banish any possibility of worship. (Slowly we are learning where to sit, where not too stay long, where not to go!)
We miss the impossible-to-reproduce sense of familiarity and “knowing how to do things” that one loses in a new and foreign culture.
We miss our kids. We would no doubt miss them if we were in the States, because they are at that stage of life where they go off to college or move out on their own, but the fact remains that we moved the nest away from them, and the only nest they can “fly home to” is in another country, and one they don’t know. We are profoundly grateful for e-mail and internet phone calling services… But sometimes it would be so nice just to have them stop by for the day…and not feel so far away.
Some things one cannot add to a list, and compute. There is no math for it.
At the same time, we are aware that we do not sacrifice nearly as much, in some ways, as missionaries of 50 or 100 years ago--or as much as colleagues in the truly difficult areas of the world.
And then there’s the fact that we can never repay our Lord for what He has done for us. We always owe Him “nothing less than everything.”
All in all, we feel blessed. We have all we need. In fact, we have so much more than most around us that it is almost embarrassing. We are delighted, at our age, to get to do a “new adventure,” and still have the health and energy to do it. (No extra energy, mind you, just enough.) We feel privileged to have gotten out of the “U.S. rat race” and into uncharted territory where we can try to go at a reasonable pace, and where what we do is unique and fulfilling.
Some days the sacrifices bite more than others. Some days it would be really nice to “go home”…but only for a day! What price can be put on getting to do what one really believes in and wants to do? What price do you put on being exactly where you think God wants you to be and serving?
So there are no math computations that really work. We win: we sacrifice, and win.
Jesus mentioned that kind of math, I think.

Amazing Things on 2 or 4 Wheels

Divine Design Amidst Mud and Thatch
In that other life (in the U.S.) Connie used to watch a show on the Home and Garden TV channel called Divine Design. In that show, Canadian Design star Candace Olsen and her crew transform ordinary and old kitchens, living rooms, bedrooms and basements into gleaming, modern, sumptuous, inviting places. It probably costs a small fortune to have Candace come and “re-design” anything, but it’s fun to watch.
In vain has David surfed and re-surfed all the channels we get on our Colombian cable network in hopes of finding the Divine Design show for his wife to watch, just for fun. Just for a change.
Okay, hold that thought.

Jose Maria is one of our loan recipients in Sahagún. We have mentioned him before: he runs a small restaurant in that town. Now, we’re not sure what you think when we say “small restaurant…” It sort of functions as a Seven Eleven would in the U.S.—with fast food plus everyday basic supplies for the local populace (especially nice cold drinks and candy), but it’s probably the size of the bathroom in the Seven Eleven near you. And it’s not exactly the same style…picture an adobe construction with a wide, open window through which all business is transacted. The ceiling is thatch or corrugated tin, and the floor is solid dirt. The back of the restaurant flows right into Jose Maria’s house.
David was checking in on Jose Maria recently, since he has done well and is applying for a second loan. Imagine David’s shock when on the small TV in the corner he saw, not the soccer play off games everyone else was watching, but of all things, Candace Olsen (suddenly fluent in Spanish) in Divine Design. He was speechless for an entire minute, the irony was so overwhelming…
Imagine Candace Olsen and her “posh” fabrics and gleaming fixtures in the midst of a dirt floor and thatch roof….and Connie nowhere around to see it!

Pero Hermano!
Among Evangelicals in Latin America the terms hermano (brother) and hermana (sister) are commonly used to emphasize the special relationship between those in the family of faith. Sometimes they are used instead of a title, such as “Mr.” or “Mrs.” too, so that “Hermano David,” and “Hermana Coni” can signal both dignity and familial claim at the same time.
But David has learned to be a bit wary of the appellation at times…especially when a loan recipient comes in at payment time and begins the conversation with “Pero Hermano…” and a story of why he or she cannot make the loan payment.
Often such a conversation begins with a desire to “pray together, hermano, and then discuss payment issues.” David has learned over the years to kindly but firmly counter such manipulative measures with the statement: “Okay, first you pay, then we’ll pray together.”
On some occasions David has had such an encounter, listened to a whole sad recital of all the reasons why the loan cannot be paid, and has insisted that the loan, indeed, be paid, only to have the person pull the money out of their pocket with a sheepish grin.
Just testing!
Insisting that loan clients pay, on time, is a needed element in discipleship training: integrity and responsibility are important. This can be preached in church, but is best taught in real life, in business. It is a paradoxically merciful kind of teaching, actually, for only by becoming truly responsible and honest will these poorer brothers not only grow spiritually, but break the vicious cycle of poverty and corruption that holds so many in thrall.
Giving in to “Pero, Hermano…” might seem kind in the short run, but in the long run only perpetuates dependence and irresponsibility. “Pay up, brother, then we’ll pray!” teaches the dignity by which the familial relationship should be characterized. Brothers and sisters, after all, should take after their parents.

Riding Shotgun
David cashed a check for a large amount of money in a bank recently: it was for a bunch of approved loans in various towns. He learned, then, that if a bank client takes out more than $500 US at a time, the bank will provide an armed guard to accompany the client—safely—to their destination. Thus it came about that on a sunny afternoon he drove from the bank to his office with a Colombian security agent sitting in the passenger seat with his machine gun ready on his lap.
Now if only we could get that service as loans are carried to all the little towns and businesses…

Dyeing in Colomboy

David and I start out on a rainy afternoon for Colomboy: he needs to do “Training #2” with one of the community banks there, and advise them that he will be bringing a small group to visit them the following week. We drive for about an hour through the now beautifully green countryside: rainy season has started, and made all the difference in the world. A pastor is waiting for us at the bus stop in Chinú to pay the Nova payment, then we continue on the main road to get to Colomboy.

We meet for the Training in the local AIEC church. Most of the Community Bank groups David works with right now have loans for 4 months. Each month there is training designed specifically for their needs, and they are supposed to attend. If they don’t come, and want to apply for a new loan at the end of the 4 months, they are less likely to be considered for another loan.

David begins the Training about a half hour late: that is typical for here. Some people can walk to the church, but some come from farther away, by bus, by motor cycle…by horse. Besides, it was raining, even though it is not raining now.

First David asks them how things are going in their businesses, and each person has a chance to respond. Then they go over a hand-out that—with diagrams and words—helps them understand the cycle of poverty, and why an injection of capital can help change the cycle of poverty if that injection of capital (the loan they get) helps make a sustainable change in a business. Some of these people do not read or write, so talking the concept through with them until they understand it is important. And it is critical that they understand that a loan is not just supposed to be a one-time help, but is designed to help change their business for the better, and in a sustainable way, so that the business, small or large, keeps on supporting them over the long term, and does so more productively.

Finally, they get it. This is good, because when and if they apply for a second loan, it is important that they understand what they are doing not as “just getting more money,” but as investing in their businesses in a viable way so that the business grows…and continues to support them, their families, and in some cases their employees, at a better and better level.

The church we are in has a “real roof”—i.e., aluminum rather than thatch, and the walls are brick, but the windows have no covering, just tree branches nailed to the walls to prevent un-wanted entry. The floor is partially cement, and part dirt. As the discussion progresses, a chicken wanders in and pecks in the dirt. In the rafters of the church there are many balloons, of all colors; they are left over from the Mother’s Day celebrations of the previous Sunday. During the discussion one of the balloons pops suddenly, startling everyone. David jokes that he planned it to make sure everyone stays awake.

After the discussion, the group prays together, and two women bring in a juice made from rice, water and cinnamon, and some astoundingly good pastries filled with spicy meat. We asked the name of the pastry, but could not repeat it for you if we had to!

David reminds the group that he is bringing a U.S. visitor, along with two Honduran visitors, in the coming week, and they plan the necessary logistics.

Then David takes me to see the business of Marcos, who dyes the caña de flecha—the straw used in making hats, purses and many of the other highly valued handicraft items made by the indigenous people group of this area. We walk from the church to Marcos’ place through the dirt streets of the village. I worry about Marcos as we walk: he is crippled, somehow: it looks like he has two club feet, but he has shoes that fit his unique feet and he walks along, limping slightly, as if nothing were the matter. And, remarkably, he is a cheery sort; mainly interested in showing us his place and in "talking business."

From the outside, Marcos’ house/business does not look auspicious: it is a large thatch-roofed hut with a dirt floor. But under that roof, Marcos employs 4 people directly: drying the cane straw, stripping it, and dyeing it. Then, entrepreneur that he is, Marcos supplies 16 other workers, who weave the material. Marcos and his incredibly tiny mother show us the vine growing next to their house that provides the leaves which are boiled and used to dye the straw.

When we have seen enough, Marcos walks with us back to the church. He is one of the more successful business people in the loan program, and if he wants one, will almost certainly be helped with another loan. He may operate from a dirt floor and thatch roofed business, but his productivity significantly and positively affects his community.

Dirt floor, thatch roof or not, dyeing in Colomboy doesn’t seem like such a bad life, even for a handicapped person. But if the Desarrollo Integral program can help Marcos and his mom and employees do even better, how great that would be!

Fried Brain
It has been my privilege in the past week or so, to prepare a 4 hour workshop on “Self Esteem According to the Bible” for the teachers of the school that is sponsored by the Church Association we work with here. The school has about 500 students in grades from pre-kinder through highschool, and there were 40 teachers and staff in the workshop.

Preparing the content of the workshop was not hard for me; I have done such workshops before. What was a challenge, after many years of not working directly in Spanish, was preparing a professional level talk in my “second language.” I had to look up quite a few words in the dictionary: even when I knew the word I wanted, I often needed to check whether my hunch re: whether the word was masculine or feminine, or had an accent mark, was right or not.

Then came the really tricky part: preparing the Power Point slides for the presentation. Those of you who know me, know that “technology” is not my strong point—and I have never done a PowerPoint presentation by myself before…. Besides, I was not only learning Power Point, but doing it in Spanish, and switching my computer keyboard to Spanish. For those of you who have not done this—that means that all the punctuation marks are different—and on different keys than you expect! So I had a triple learning curve going on: prepare a professional 4 hour workshop in Spanish, learn Power Point and learn a new typewriter keyboard °!”#$%&/()=¿’0¨´+ñ[*[Ñ_:; —all at once.

Fried brain for supper, is what it felt like at the end of several days.

But I survived the workshop, and so did everyone else.

They say that learning is excellent for the aging brain. Not sure, but I hope so!

Anyway, being an old/new missionary is excellent for one’s humility.

Dollar to Peso Evangelism

They tried “door to door” evangelism at Madison’s church. They tried a week of evangelistic meetings. They tried special bazaar’s and picnics and Sunday School events…anything that would lure people from their small community into the church. And none of it worked.
This is the church in the countryside where David and I visited (and David preached) last November—the one (if you were reading our blog then) where the chicken was late for lunch. Ever since then Madison, the pastor, has been trying to help people from his church and community to form a small community bank. David went back for a second meeting (Step #2 in his guided program for community banks) before we went to the States for Christmas, but it took the group forever to follow the guidelines, fill out the forms and decide who could be in the group.
Finally the group was ready, with good business plans and all the papers filled out. They received their loan funds in late March and David was somewhat surprised that only one member of the community bank group is also a member of Madison’s church; all the rest are simply from the community. Many are not believers. This is definitely allowed by the Desarollo Integral program guidelines, and several other community bank groups have members who are not Christians, but Madison’s church is unusual in only having one church member in the group.
Madison is delighted however. “We have tried everything we could think of,” he says, “to bring community members into the church, and nothing worked. But ever since the idea of this community bank took hold, people from the community are coming!”

Can $250 Change Your Life?
Enrique had a small business drying and coloring straw for artisan weavers. He made less than $100 a month, working by himself. He is a member of the Colomboy church and joined the Community Bank there, receiving a loan of $250 for four months. The loan was used to buy a larger inventory of straw and the leaves used for colorants.
Enrique paid back his first loan in full and now has applied for a second (which is allowed when the first loan has been paid in a timely manner, and if the second loan can be shown to be a sound business investment). This is all good.
But the really exciting thing is to listen to Enrique talk enthusiastically about the results of his first loan: his family has enjoyed a higher level of income, he has two new employees, and even after paying the loan back, he has inventories worth more than $250 that he is working with.
Maybe $250 wouldn’t change your life, but a loan of $250, carefully invested in a sound expansion of Enrique’s business, together with mentoring he has received along the way, has definitely changed his life--and has a “trickle down” effect on the lives of his family, employees, and his community as well.

Sounds of Sincelejo
Up in our fifth floor apartment in downtown Sincelejo we are somewhat cushioned from the heat and noise of this small city, but many sounds reach us quite clearly.
At dawn (or just before) we can hear the early crows of nearby roosters—yes, in the city. Soon a dog barks, and we can hear bird song and twittering. Then there’s a sound like a crying puppy, in pain. When we first moved in, we thought it was a crying puppy, but as the weeks went by it was clear that this “puppy” wasn’t getting any older, or any better. David theorized that the sound was made by a bird—perhaps a parrot who had learned how to mimic a crying puppy. Once when the noise was fairly continuous, he heard neighbors talking about the “sick bird,” and we were hopeful that the bird might get better—or else very much worse. A lot worse.
David has commented that he wishes he had a pellet gun… Guess what he would use for target practice? He doesn’t have one, though.
Recently at one of his church meetings out in the country he was able to solve the mystery of what creates that crying puppy sound: a peacock! Here they call it a pavo real—a royal turkey! Beautiful bird—awful sound. We have fond hopes the owners will find some reason to move this lovely bird into the country—way out into the country.
Around 6:00 in the morning the city starts to wake up. The sounds of passing cars, motorcycles and honking horns gradually builds. Vendors walk by, pushing their carts and calling out their wares. I can understand the words of the man selling “yucca, nyame, and bananos.” He makes a kind of pleasant song out of shouting out what he has for sale. Other vendors come by as well, but I cannot understand what they are saying. Some come by and merely ring a bell—presumably other inhabitants know what the bell means; I have not been motivated to go down five flights of stairs to find out.
A neighbor down below and behind our building has started a morning daycare of some kind: from about 7:30 to noon we can hear the sounds of children playing happily—or sometimes not so happily. Fortunately, that only goes a half day.
Occasionally we hear the clip clop of a horse going by, pulling a loaded cart behind, loaded with watermelons, straw, wood, cardboard boxes—whatever the driver has found to transport that day. Recently David heard the lowing of large cattle, possibly a bull. We have encountered a group of Brahmans in our street, about a block away from home, being herded, presumably, out of town. We were in our car at the time, but lamentably sans camera (it would have been a great photo, the white Brahmans against the backdrop of paved street, sidewalks, and four story buildings). In such an encounter what one does (particularly in a car) is sit and wait: up close and personal, Brahman cattle are rather large.
Then there are parties. A party in Colombia almost always means music—and the louder the better, apparently. One birthday party we heard recently might have been for child: the music started at around 6 p.m. and was silent by 9 p.m. Other parties don’t even start until 9 or 10 p.m. and can go on all night. Any Colombian considers himself/herself entitled, if there is a party for whatever reason, to make as much noise as they wish. The sleep needs of nearby neighbors do not seem to be taken into account. (I sometimes wonder if perhaps we are the only neighbors not invited: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em would be an understandable tactic in such a circumstance.)
When a party begins I am always grateful I do not have small children who will be kept awake. We just get out our earplugs. We have lots of them. They don’t actually stop you from hearing the noise, but they make it possible for you to begin to think of anything else, and maybe doze off occasionally.
The sounds of Sincelejo are certainly not “the sounds of silence.” But we have come to enjoy many of them, and to hear them as the pulse of the community around us.
If the “royal turkey” is an endangered species however, I would certainly understand why.

Hurry up and Wait!

That’s what it was…a fascinating eleven days of hurry up…and wait!
It started out well enough: we drove to the Monteria airport in excellent time, and flew to Bogotá without a hitch. David had excellent meetings at the U.S. embassy with people interested in what he is doing. Then the flight from Bogotá to Quito was delayed because it was raining hard in Quito… the flight took off and circled over Quito 45 minutes and finally went back to Cali, Colombia, then Bogotá…. Two additional, aborted flights later and it was 1:00 a.m. in Bogota, and Avianca airlines finally decided to put all 200 of us in a hotel. We finally got to Quito at noon the next day.
Fortunately, David’s friend Luis met us at the airport, and helped us find the bus station, and we caught a bus for the 5 hour trip to the border town of Tulcán. There is a Colombian consulate in Tulcán, and that was our target. After a night in a very inexpensive hotel ($7 per person!) near the bus station, we got up early and found the Colombian consulate, arriving when it opened at 8 a.m. The guard let us in, along with other “clients,” but no one important showed up until 9:00 a.m.
Finally at 11:00 a.m. the Consul’s assistant saw us and informed us that two of our papers would have to be re-done: one had the name of the Consul wrong, and one was out of date: all such papers have to be written and sealed within 30 days of presenting them. So then we hurried to find a telephone and make calls to see what could be done about our incorrect documents. One of them could be re-done by our agency, but could not possibly reach us until Thursday or Friday (this was Wednesday). About the other paper, no one was sure what to do: there was no chance of “re-doing” it: the person who had written it was traveling and we did not know how to locate him. Also, looming in the near future was the fact of Semana Santa (Holy Week) when everything shuts down and nothing can be done.
So, we prayed. We moved to a slightly better hotel! We scrounged around the neighborhood looking for a lawyer, a notary public…anyone who could add the correct name of the Consul to our faulty document. Finally, we found a travel agent who loaned us a typewriter, and we typed in the correct name! Amazingly, the Consul graciously accepted this change.
There was now absolutely nothing for us to do except wait until Friday for the other document. So on Thursday we took a bus (3 hour ride) to the lovely town of Otavalo and enjoyed the artisan market there, as well as a coffee shop with exquisite coffee and Tiramisú…we certainly weren’t suffering all the time!
On Friday David headed across the border to the Colombian town of Ipiales where our document from Bogotá was supposedly waiting for us. Only it wasn’t: there had been a landslide in the mountains and the packet would come in the afternoon. So we waited around in the Colombian Consulate some more, had lunch, and David went back across the border to get the packet… Got it!
Late Friday afternoon, all of our papers were duly turned in to the Consulate….but, they now tell us, the application has to be sent to Bogotá....and then sent back to Tulcán. “Come back,” says the lady, “on Monday afternoon. Not Monday morning, but Monday afternoon. Hopefully, it will be ready then.”
Hopefully! We have already missed our Friday flight back to Colombia, so David negotiates with Avianca airlines for a possible flight on Tuesday or Thursday—which is all they have open. Meanwhile, we have a week-end to “kill,” and opt to spend it in Otavalo again, rather than Tulcán. Tulcán is an ugly little town with a piercing, damp cold due to its location in the mountains at about 9,000 or 10,000 feet.
So back on the bus to Otavalo, where we enjoy a nicer hotel still, nice restaurants, the artisan market at its biggest and busiest on Saturday, a glimpse of beautiful snow-capped mountains, and a waterfall to hike to. Our week-end there was a lovely gift in the middle of “hurry up and wait.” If you have to wait anywhere, we heartily recommend Otavalo!
Monday morning and back to Tulcán. The bus trip is getting old by now…and Tulcán is as rainy and cold as ever. But the hotel desk clerk informed us immediately that someone from the Colombian Consulate had been by on Friday to say that our residencies had come from Bogotá! We can hardly believe our ears! Perhaps our speculating about what to do if the visas didn’t come was unnecessary.
The Consulate is closed between noon and 2:30, but we were there at 2:30 to wait in the waiting room some more, and by 4:00 p.m. had met with the Consul’s assistant. We had to run out and do a bunch of photocopies, and then wait some more….but by 5:00 p.m. we had our passports in our hands with the precious Residency Visas stamped in them. Thank you, Lord!!
At that point we had missed the opportunity to reserve the Tuesday Avianca flights to Colombia, so we spent one last night in Tulcán and gladly left that cold, rainy town on Tuesday morning and got to Quito about 6 hours later. On Wednesday we were able to see an LAM friend and missionary, visit with a contact of David’s, eat the unique Easter week meal of Fanesca with Luis and his family, and see a bit of downtown Quito and its incredible churches and museums.
4:00 a.m. the next morning we were up and off to the airport: one flight to Bogotá, another to Monteria, and a two-hour drive home. No more hurry up and wait—at least, not, for now, in Ecuador.
Hurry up…and wait is often how God works. Sometimes (maybe most of the time) He is doing things we know nothing about. Sometimes He is working on our character; or on the heart of another person. Our experience has been, in the past and in this trip, that not only does He know what He is doing, but in the midst of the “hurry” He gives His peace and in the midst of the “wait” He gives extraordinary gifts.

From the Sublime to the….not so Sublime!

On the Bus
Sublime were the views out of the bus windows: the beautiful green mountains of Ecuador, just outside of Quito. Then, shortly after that there were craggy, rocky mountains with cacti spotting them here and there: prickly pear and agave, and a small, fuzzy cactus that I thought at first was a flower. Later on we could look down from the bus on green rolling hills with a patchwork quilt of fields, reminiscent of Austria or Switzerland, or up at mountains planted in pine or Eucalyptus. And always, in the background, were the Big Guys, purple or blue, and once in the morning sun, green and tan: the Andes.
Most of the time the Big Guys were shrouded in clouds, but one morning from the Consulate window we caught a glimpse of snow-capped mountain, so we kept watching for the clouds to clear. Then on Sunday morning, in Otavalo, when we got up: there they were with no clouds in the way: stark and craggy and searingly beautiful, with a dusting of snow on the top. Even their names are intimidating and beautiful: Cotacachi and Imbabura.
We also enjoyed the snacks on the bus! At many a stop, vendors would get on the bus selling drinks, hot meals, and many things we had never seen. We tried a packet of seeds called havas, which look like large, brown lima beans, and probably are related to the lima bean in some way. They were as delicious as walnuts, cashews or Brazil nuts. Another time we tried a bag of hard corn kernels mixed with soft kernels, tomato, onion and ají—yum! Ecuador has hundreds of varieties of corn. The apples were delicious, too, crisp and tart.
One very cold morning as we left Tulcán, David bought me breakfast from a lady vendor: it turned out to be a piping hot cob of corn with large, pulpy kernels, and a piece of white, soft cheese. Best breakfast I’ve had in a long time!
Not so sublime were “hawkers” who would get on the bus, with its captive audience, and proceed to spin a “sob story” or sell the local equivalent of old-time snake oil. We were always glad when they got off.
But just as bad, or worse, were Action Movies from the U.S. that were shown almost non-stop on the buses. One could turn one’s head and look at the glorious view, but one could not help hearing the groans, thumps, explosions and gun-fire...not to mention the amazingly fluent Spanish of Sylvester Stallone, John Travolta or Jean-Claude Van Damme. We didn’t see any Clint Eastwood, but assume he has developed perfect Spanish in Ecuador as well! We will never know how some of those movies ended, since we had to get off the bus... But we now understand a bit better the lamentable reputation the U.S. has abroad, thanks to such “action figures.”
The Consulate
The Colombian Consulate in Tulcán had a very nice waiting room: not sublime, exactly, but comfortably furnished. We should know: we spent hours there. Unfortunately, the temperature was frigid, but that’s because it was about 40 degrees everywhere in Tulcán: on the street, in the hotel, in the shower...in the consulate...you get the picture.
The staff at the consulate were courteous. Unfortunately, they could not allow us to use the bathroom, as it was out of order. This made waiting for hours in a cold room interesting, to say the least. Part of staff courtesy, apparently, is keeping a television on in the waiting room at all times, for the viewing pleasure of those who are waiting. We can now tell you, if you wish, all about the Ecuadoran equivalent of “Good Morning, America” and of the Soap Operas that come on at 11 a.m. Unfortunately, we will never know what happens to some of those people with their heart-rending lives. By comparison, waiting for hours to find out whether we were getting a visa or not was a mere picnic!
Ecuador is a beautiful country: we will remember with joy its stunning mountain vistas, delicious foods and the indigenous people in their colorful native dress. If we had to go somewhere outside Colombia and the U.S., and had to “hurry up and wait” for eleven days to get our visas, we are grateful we got to see and experience Ecuador, with the sublime and the ridiculous. We are richer by far than when we left—(although not in pesos or dollars!)—and not only in residency visas.
God is always good!

Our Trip To Nova

On a sunny afternoon David needs to go to Nova: a place out in the boonies where an entrepreneurial lady has been persistently asking him to come help start a community bank. She came to one of his trainings in Sahagún, and has formed, she says, a group of 12 people from her church.
We are to meet someone at the bus stop in Chinú who will guide us to the church. The ride is lovely…not too much traffic at 2 p.m. and there are yellow and pink flowering trees dotting the open country here and there. The yellow trees are such a bright yellow they seem fluorescent and almost hurt your eyes. We pull in to the bus stop in Sahagún a few minutes early, but a man is waiting for us and comes up right away. Turns out it is the pastor of the church in Nova. He gets into the car and shows us which dirt road to take out of Chinú and off into the country. The road gets pretty bad in spots: it is dry season, so the road is hardened mud, but it has rained recently and there are puddles here and there, whose depth is hard to determine. Even more ominous are wheel ruts a foot deep where somebody must have gotten stuck. But our little car, with David guiding it carefully over the two safest wheel tracks, makes it through just fine.
It is obvious that we are in cattle country. On either side of the road hills roll gently away in pasture land and the white Brahmin cattle, with their huge humps and droopy ears, burrow for the new green grass one uncharacteristic recent rain has brought out, or rest in the shade of large spreading trees.
Another crop of the area is yuca (or manioc, a tuber like potatoes) and we see several places where the yuca is laid out to dry in the sun, and then packed in white sacking; later it will be taken somewhere and ground into flour that makes the rosquillos and diabolines (snacks) we have come to love.
We ask the pastor about how long he has pastored his current church in Nova: five years, now with a congregation of some 30 to 40 members. As the road gets worse and the houses spread farther apart, we ask him if the bus gets back into Nova. “No,” he says, “but twice a day there is a Willys.” A “Willys” is a jeep of World War II vintage that can handle these roads. Enterprising mechanics have figured out how to make parts to keep these vehicles, so necessary to rural transportation, alive.
We arrive at the church, which is not hard to note, since it is a large, new cement structure, painted yellow, and with the name over the door. But we meet with the group of 12 entrepreneurs in the open, thatch-roofed “building” in back that used to be their church before the new one was built.
It is remarkably comfortable there: the thatch roof somehow absorbs the heat and the breeze from off the fields blows through freely, smelling of grass and trees and sunshine. There is no city noise at all: no beeping horns, no motors, no radios; just an occasional bird—and bees. There are two or three large bumble bees snooping around the thatch roof. I have never seen such large bumble bees: they are at least an inch long, with a buzzing sound to match their size. But they are not interested in humans; they crawl into the bamboo poles that support the thatch roof and can safely be ignored.
Slowly the people gather who form part of this community bank group. While we wait, they occasionally talk to each other, but mostly they just wait peacefully. Someone brings David and I glasses of red soda pop that taste like bubble gum and buns with guava jelly inside. We are the honored guests, apparently, and the only ones to receive refreshments. There is no turning down such generosity, even if we do not need sweet soda pop or buns in our diet!
After awhile all have gathered and the meeting starts with prayer. David presents the Biblical basis for “work” and doing business—and therefore for the kind of program he is running. Then he describes how the program is run: how a community bank works. Theoretically, these participants know this from the lady who is their leader, but it is good for David to review it in person, and make sure they understand that what they get are loans, not handouts, and that the whole group agrees to pay for any participant who might have difficulty and not pay. David explains how important their individual business plans are for evaluating the validity of the small businesses and the probability of payment of the loan. He explains the concept of “margin” and that the first loan is really a kind of “test case” for only 4 months. If the people do well, they can get a second loan after the 4 months are over. Soon the people are discussing the different small businesses and the details of payment.
I sit and watch, and it is fascinating to watch them “get it.” They are not sure about David at first, although there is an occasional gleam in an eye as they hear about the dignity of work as God created it, and the examples of Jesus and Paul. And they listen soberly as David explains that there are no gifts. These are loans for real businesses with true margin, true productivity. This was a quiet group to begin with, quiet and subdued. Now they are still quiet, but not subdued: they are being talked to like adults and they stand up straighter. They begin to talk business to David and to each other. They are empowered.
It is much more empowering to have someone say, “Your business is worth investing in. I believe you will be able to pay back this loan,” than to have someone say, in effect, “Here’s a gift, since you aren’t doing too well on your own.”
I am dying to use the bathroom, but the only one I see is an out-house with only two walls: two walls too few, from my point of view! But I screw up my courage after awhile and ask the pastor’s wife if there is a bathroom I can use, and she guides me to a different out-house that I hadn’t seen: it has four walls (glory be!), but interestingly, no roof. A bucket of water is the only water in sight—no pipes or faucet, and the shower is clearly a ladle that one dips from the bucket. There is a small shelf wired to the cement block wall, with soap, shampoo and razor on it. Clearly this is the only bathroom, fully furnished.
Yet, paradoxically, as the meeting ends, someone pulls out the Acta, the formal paper that describes the organization and officers of this small community bank, and the Acta was printed out on a printer from a computer somewhere. David and I look at each other: where did they do this? But they did. We are always coming across these bizarre mixtures of Third World poverty and modern conveniences.
The group has some more work to do before their loans can be approved, but they have made a good beginning, so David and I say our good-byes, shaking each person’s hand solemnly. Then we wend our way over the mud bumps and through the peaceful fields back to the paved road…and back to Sincelejo.

Where We Are in February, 2008

First, a few pictures of amazing things on two wheels:

Where in the World Am I?
--what day is it? Is it a holiday here?
--let’s see…which bank account should I pay this bill from?
--what currency am I operating in….better think in…dollars!
--which address should I give this person?
--the gas station pump wants my zip code! Ha ha! Wish I could remember which
address this credit card is billed to….
--how do I explain why I can’t do jury duty next month?
--how should they reach me to verify this order? Well… can’t remember my
Colombia cell phone number, or David’s….but I think I remember the U.S. one…which will be shut off in a few days…

Life can get quite complicated when one is living, sort of, in two or three places at once!
We left Colombia on December 17 and enjoyed spending the holidays with our kids, as we reported in our last e-mail. As 2008 began, I (Connie) headed in to the LAM office on a regular basis to work with staff there on a number of issues related to my position as Director of Member Care, and to plan for the upcoming Orientation for new missionary candidates.

On January 11, David came back to Colombia. He immediately began working with his Community Bank groups (per our Blog entry of January 22) and also did a trip to Honduras to give a conference on Economic Development, with a quick side visit to his mom in Costa Rica. In addition he spent several days preaching and giving workshops on economic development in the slums of Cartagena. So each evening as I tried to call him, I needed to remember what country he was in and what cell phone system to use!
Meanwhile, I was deeply involved in the LAM Orientation, giving classes to new candidates, doing psychological testing and interviews, and generally helping out in the office. During the Orientation I stayed at the hotel with the candidates; at other times I was at the apartment of one of our kids, or at the condo we still have in Key Largo. After the Orientation was over I helped son Jon move out of the house he had been renting—sharing a rental became way too complicated—and to our condo in Key Largo. Next I furiously packed as much stuff as I could into two 55 pound suitcases for Colombia: it involves careful packing and weighing to exactly hit 55 pounds! Jon helped me get these heavy bags into the car and on February 4th I headed back to Colombia—and David!
One night shortly after my return, I woke up and literally was not sure for several minutes where I was! I knew exactly who was in bed with me, though, and that helped me realize that I am, indeed, back in Sincelejo!
It has taken several days to clear away the dust and grime that gathered in my six weeks away… David figured, “Why clean it up, it would just get dirty again!” Now there’s a rationale for you! Of course there are also piles of mail to go through, papers to organize…and dirty clothes… It has been much more fun to unpack the things I was able to bring from the U. S. that help make our home here more “like home.”
I’ll just get settled and caught up again (hopefully!) and turn around and head back to Miami on February 25 and then to the LAM retreat in Mexico (Feb. 28-March 2) which it is my responsibility as Member Care Director to coordinate. I hope to come back to Colombia on March 6th.
All this “back and forth living” between countries is a huge privilege and adventure….but sometimes just downright….complicated. Travel lost its allure for me long ago and represents merely the way to get where I am supposed to serve, even as I try to remember what language and currency to use, what addresses and phone numbers to give, and…where I am.
Fortunately, I always know to Whom I belong, and why I am in this “back and forth life.” For at the other end of each plane trip, at the other end of a phone call, or an internet connection are lives. People Jesus died for. They may be new missionary candidates who need encouragement, and guidance. They may be missionaries hitting rough spots who need a listening ear, reassurance and prayer. They may be Colombian brothers and sisters who need to learn that God cares about their poverty and cares how they live out their faith in their daily business transactions.
So where am I today? It is a great comfort, even if I can’t remember my phone number, to believe that I am right where I belong in His plan.

What’s the matter with your eyes?
David sat patiently waiting for a meeting to begin in the suburb (actually a slum) of Cartagena called Mamonal. He was sitting outside, on a plastic chair, waiting for lunch to be served. Slowly, little boys, six to eight years old gathered around him, staring. He could tell they wanted to ask him something, and wondered what was fascinating them. Finally, one of them, who had clearly been elected to gather his courage and ask the question for all of them, stepped up and said, “What is the matter with your eyes?”
“My eyes?” responded David.
“Your eyes…they look strange. Are they bleached by the sun?”
David realized they were fascinated and scandalized by his blue eyes. They had never seen blue eyes before!
In this beautiful city of Cartagena, jewel of the Caribbean, with its pirate lore, ancient forts, European tourists and skyscrapers, there exist slums in which nine-year-old boys know little of the world beyond their streets of mud and houses of cardboard. They have never seen tourists, skyscrapers or airplanes. They have seen so few cars they don’t even know they should get out of the street when one approaches. And they have never seen anyone with blue eyes.
Colombia is a huge and wealthy country, with millions of well-educated and sophisticated people. Some of them, in fact, have blue eyes. But in this vast land there are pockets of unbelievable poverty…immense pockets of excruciating poverty. It is hard to see this poverty, and painful to realize how little these people have; but it is in those pockets that David wants to work.
There is nothing wrong with his eyes.

“Good news…..Freedom for the Prisoners” (Luke 4:18)
The widow of the pastor who had been killed in the civil war needed a loan to expand her business of selling clothes, and at first glance this appeared to be another good deed, a service to a needy family. But when we gathered the information for the business plan, we discovered that her existing business was based on supplier credit that was charged at 50% per month, i.e. a 600% per year interest rate. Since she had been successful in managing inventory of over $500 per month, on which she paid $250 per month, she has been quite successful with the interest payment she now makes, which is so small, she says, that she does not even notice it! She was used to being enslaved by the money lenders, and is now free.

Many, many people we are working with are managing small loans at very high interest rates, but without such high interest loans, they have no capital. The “best” rate we have discovered, thus far, is the four-week flat rate of 10%. This figures out to about 13% per month, as the person pays back interest and capital daily. Again, clients successful with such a ‘paga-diario’ are extremely successful in our program, as we eliminate most of the interest they are accustomed to paying. They can now be free from the exploitative money lenders.

How wonderful to help free them! This freeing ministry is an important aspect of the Desarrollo Integral program.

“Big Brother” Knows Better?
At the special program for families displaced by the civil war in Montelibano, there is a big sign with the US AID initials, and underneath it explains that the program is funded for the poor by the people of the United States. But I think that most people in the U.S. would find the rules for this program, coming down from the top, to be silly.

For example, people in this community have small businesses funded by money lenders (see above) and need access to capital. But the US AID program does not allow for their funds to be lent, only provided as a gift. So the first result is to turn hard working business people into social welfare recipients.

To get this gift, the people have to go to many, many meetings. This takes them away from their businesses. But also, anyone going to the meetings is going to get the money, so operating a viable business does not matter, anyway.

The amount of the gift for business is $750, no matter what. Everyone gets the same gift, regardless of need, regardless of age. And once the recipient receives the gift, that’s it: no help with the business, no advice. Unfortunately, here there is no on-going loan program being created, no incentive to keep working, no additional investment. There is no monitoring of progress or results. People can drink away the “gift,” and some of them probably will.

I am from the United States, and this does not make sense to me at all. Probably the Washington bureaucrats that hatched it had good intentions, but I think they must never have had a business…..and never thought through the implications of their policy on displaced people: who need a business that supports them for years more than they need one large gift that their relatives will all want a piece of.


Discipling through business
David has been having the time of his life this past week, because he has spent three days in a row meeting with the Community Bank groups that are set up and running in Sahagún, Tuchín and Colombóy. He meets with them in one of the businesses, provides a “coffee break,” and starts his Training Session by asking the members how their businesses are going. All kinds of problems are brought up; successes too. The loan recipients learn from each other, give each other ideas, and sometimes come up with delightful synergies: ways they can help each other out.
If a pastor is present (and usually at least one of the loan recipients is a pastor) David asks that pastor to give the devotional. If there is no pastor, David has a devotional ready to give. During and after the devotional, time is devoted to talking about how to honor God in their business dealings, with their employees, and in their families. In one group a back-sliding member was gently chided and prayed for. In another group a young man questioning his faith was treated kindly and offered a book that can help answer his questions. The Training Session ends with a time of prayer: not superficial, general prayer, but real, honest prayers about the problems and opportunities discussed that day.
This is what David loves: down-to-earth problems discussed openly with God’s Word brought in and practically applied.
Who says you can’t disciple through a loan program?