hmmm…

I met a man with stilts for legs who’s voice sounded like the hum of a refrigorator. I met an old woman with a leather face who told of mythic battles. She had one good eye but I couldn’t determine which one it was. She told of a fire that killed a baby. Looting that took houses & heros clothed in rock and school uniforms. I saw shallow streams who’s waters flowed slowly. Their reflections told of eternity in a thick grey milk. I saw beasts fighting in the thick of squeels and trash. Children passed message of our presence in a three syllabul chant. A young boy smiled at us, bare ass in the air. The air was a soup of tiny water droplets, exhailing deisel engines and dust that couldn’t figureout gravety. Young lions did circus tricks in unison with mother waiting anxiously for tragedy, not distracted by the collective poetry of five people discussing… What was it? School fees that couldn’t be paid? How much? $2? Ohh… we’ll see what we can do. How about half? Followed by the flow of “God almighty’s,” “Jahovah,” “Lord” until the little brook was punctuated by an “Amen” that flowed in a circle around the room. We parted the film of blue material and step into the light.

what do I have to offer?

When touching desperate poverty I am confrunted by a problem… I don’t want people in this situation but what do I want them to be living like? Not my middle class upbringing. I remember the girls with eating disorders and the girls that cut themselves. I remember how with the guys we talked & joked about new movies, new tv episodes, new video games. We had stimulating lives of non reality, fabricated reality, quite desperate lives; living vicariously through entertainment. Suberb dwellers have no need for God and don’t get to share in the love that goes before & follows after his provision. So what do I have to offer? I am in the same desperate need of transformation and fighting the same sense of despare, apathy & fear of the unknown. We are entrenched on either side of satisfacation wishing desperately, quitely that if only we were on the other side… But where is the way we are supposed to be living, made to be living?

Nadari

Diffused light fell onto rusting hills. Clumps of tin formed rows to hold in small streams carving wrinkles in the land. The discards ran through wrinkles until caught or clogged. Pigs ran the length of the little streams, looking for recyclables to fill their bellies. Women produced white streaks of soap suds across the ground as, in unison, the entire population kneaded dirt from their clothes. Bare hills emerged, climbed higher than the clumped tin. A layer of plastic, paper & discards blotted the smooth hill. amidst one such blot a small boy leaned over to add to the discard. There was no pretense of privacy or location. He looked up & I held my breath in my chest. We weaved down through creaks then moved along the river. Smells tempted my body to contribute to the smell. Bright colors sat over rusting tin & land like band aides. Children formed small choirs & chanted in unison, “How are you?” threatening to dislodge something inside me. Their eyes & faces betrayed their surroundings, bright like the patterned material hanging from lines that criss crossed narrow streams. Men with set jaws who’s necks acted as pivots, moved as we passed, as if we were an unwelcome breeze. We thought the skies would produce tears but a man more experienced than us assured us no tears would fall for this place. And so it was, constant clouds but no tears to clean land or clear conscious.

convent morning

I heard singing rise & fall pushed through door & hallway by a tide of claps until finally they found windows to pour out of like incense rising up to god.

week one

so im really teird but my friend ben just wrote up a little thing about what we’ve been up to. He did a great job so I’m putting it here:

After a long journey having spent 32 hours in planes not to mention the layovers at airports, we finally arrived in Nairobi, Kenya. After a day of rest, we visited Fountain of Life, Juja where they had an orphan home for 12 orphan girls. There we did fun crafts to spend time bonding with them and getting to know the pastor and his wife who decided to take them into their home with the help of their church.
We also have visited the original Fountain of Life (FoL) church where they give home to 48 orphan boys as well as school.

When we first arrived at FoL, I had barely stepped out of the van before one of the teachers on the campus named Wendy came and gave each of us a hug, all the while expressing her joy through words and a big smile. She reflected the general spirit of most everyone here at FoL when they met us.

In short, FoL began providing for many street children, eventually finding that they could only afford to help so many with food and other provisions. They decided to help orphans and reunite any others with their families. With time they built a compact campus on a plot of land where they had dorms to house 100 children and facilities for daily life and schooling for each of them. A few years ago however, the surrounding land was being bought out by rich developers and investers funded by muslim communities and countries who have a big presence in the nearby area. When the church refused to sell their land, these people paid corrupt officials to have their land illegally demolished. In the middle of the night, a bulldoser began to demolish buildings with the children still inside. Everyone made it off the property safely, but there was nothing they could do as there were police there who had been bought off. In 3 hours, they boys and their caretakers watched their home be demolished as well as several surrounding churches nearby. The court system is very terrible and the city council is known to be corrupt so the for FoL has still not been heard.
Today, they are renting a property from another church, but their deadline is coming soon to move out. They are down to 48 kids (12 of them had to be sent elsewhere to be taken care of due to the circumstances) and need money to build facilities on the new land they have. Until then, they are trying to get an extension on the property they are renting becuase finding a property to accomodate so many children is hard to find.

Yesterday, we visited with the children and toured their current facility. We got to play soccer (I’m still quite sore) and had a blast teaching them to play kick ball. I can’t imagine the kind of trauma they have been through throughout each of their lives. Some are very quick to attach to you, especially if you are male. Most have only had mothers, or a mother figure in their life.

Please pray for the children of FoL in both locations. Though there have been many hardships that they have faced, there are many joyful stories to tell as well, but that would take hours I don’t have at the moment.

Please pray for our team. For energy and good health. Derek, our team leader was very sick the past couple of days and is doing better today. The rest of us have just been trying to keep up with rest and energy.

Our team is excited for the rest of the month and we are all still adjusting to jet lag and getting oriented with the different opportunities to serve before us. It’s hard to express the kind of emotion that has been running through us the past few days. It is a mix of excitement and heartbreak, joy and sadness.

Thanks for reading throuhg what we’ve been up to. And feel free to email me but I probably wont get back any time soon.

xoxo
ryan

p.s. larium:crazy

I have all my stuff packed and we’re heading out in a few hours. Thanks for all the love and I really appreciate your prayers…

we're jumping

here’s a picture of the team. look how much fun we are already having. you can tell how much fun we are having because we are in the air, at the same time.
Can you tell I’m tired? I need to go to sleep. Thanks for everything. xoxo

Dwellings: small, mobile, small & mobile

So for some reason I am always thinking about ways of creatively living.

I imagine doing a motorcycle tour and work through everything I would bring, how I would pack it and what I would do for food, rest and barthroom. Then I see a bicycle and do the same, then I see the van and do the same, then I see a small anonymous door that doesn’t seem to attach to a full building and imagine moving in. As I walked down the street in San Francisco, last Friday, I realized that I’m generally analyzing spaces and vehicles for that purpose. And in this perusit I’ve spent a fair amount of time looking at different websites for ideas. Here are three main catagories I’ve been looking at and links for creative way’s to live: By Vehicle, By Yurt, By Tiny Home

Vehicle: cheaprvliving.com, carliving.info & stealthvandweller.blogspot.com

Yurt: www.yurts.com & hexayurt.com

Tiny Home: www.yesmagazine.org, tortoiseshellhome.com, www.tumbleweedhouses.com, tinyhouseblog.com

I also stumbled upon this Architect in Tokyo, Japan that has been looking at homeless houses. He documented a small home that is run by a solar paneled here: www.0yenhouse.com

I hope you enjoy.

a map of photographs

taken through out the last two years…



View Larger Map


chosing my deeper selfishness

…my process of regaining my humanity

I feel that in my life I’ve experienced two worlds that are at odds with one another. There is one camp that says one should live for one’s self, that we should protect ourselves & that we should pursue what brings us pleasure, and how that affects the rest of the world is of little consequence. There is another camp that says we have a duty & responsibility to care for those around us & to care for the world. We must look beyond ourselves. We must fight against the selfish materialistic way of our living that necessitates global poverty for our domestic affluence.

I, myself, have experienced both of these point of views within my heart. And I’ve found neither of them to be very satisfying. One neglects our inherent need/desire for community & to live at peace with our brothers and sisters. The other neglects our own desire for satisfaction & our desire to be fully alive. It relies on language that appeals to the will and pride while the other appeals to immediate desires.

I think there is a third way, a way that honors all of what’s in us. A way that invites others to join us. A way that produces joy & freedom. That way is the process of choosing our deeper selfishness. If we recognize that we long for community & that the best thing for us is to live rightly with those around us; we don’t have to be elitists about what we do. If we recognize the passion that drives us, I believe it will draw us nearer to the heart of God. Choosing my deeper selfishness frees me from living in the “need to” and “have to,” it invites me out of obligation.

I do things not because I’m a great human being or a holy human being. I do things because they bring me the deepest satisfaction. I chose to identify with my fellow human being because if I don’t, a part of me suffers. When I objectify others, I also objectify myself. Choosing our deeper selfishness allows us to realize that loving our neighbor is only possible if we love ourselves. And loving ourselves is impossible without loving our neighbor.

*this is just a thought, I’m sure it’ll change over time*

from a motorcycle trip in Indiana

found in the fading light and crisp sounds