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Let It Flow

Posted by: jeffbates in Untagged  on Feb 20, 2009

My view this morning as I wrote this post.  At first I was disappointed that the clouds were covering the sun as it rose, but they gave way to some spectacular spotlights that illuminated the water.

Hello from Placencia!  I have no idea when I will have internet access to post this, but right now it is late Thursday night, early Friday rather, roughly 5am.  I woke up about an hour ago and found my mind racing, rendering me incapable of falling back into much needed deep sleep.  The sun should be rising in about an hour, so I decided to write down some of the things creating my mental race track and then walk the few steps to the chairs on the beach to take in the sunrise.  As a left-coaster I haven’t had many opportunities to see the sun peek out over the ocean, as that is instead where I know it to settle each night.  Placencia is about as close to paradise for me right now as I could imagine, minus my friends and family of course.  The beach is clean and filled with coconut trees, the water is a perfect temperature and a beautiful deep blue/green, and the people here, despite high tourism, are still Belizean and very nice and hospitable.  I have been trying for the last few weeks to have hudet (no idea how to spell it), a traditional Garifuna dish of mashed plantains and fish, and cow foot soup, a Belizean favorite that is exactly what it sounds like.  A woman who owns the restaurant right next to the guesthouse I am staying at is making a special bowl of hudet for me this evening and a nice young lady I met on the street yesterday said at noon today I could come pick up a bowl of cow foot soup, made just for me, from her at the gas station she works at in town.  This is the kind of Belizean hospitality I have gotten used to.


Me with most of the group I worked with in PG on a daily basis.  From left to right: Bebiana, yours truly, Robert, Herminio, Luther, Andre, Jose, Charles, Candido, and Nana.  Not pictured: Nelson, Nadia, Juan,Estevan, and Kevin.  They are all wonderful people and I can’t wait to come back to see them.

The ten days or so since I last wrote have been a whirlwind of experiences and emotions, and I am so thankful to have these three days in Placencia to relax and organize it all.  Most of last week was spent doing final family visits in the villages around PG.  Checking in with families I had already worked with and saying goodbye to them was really nice, as was meeting new families and hearing their stories and their experiences with SHI to that point.  I was also introduced to Belizean basketball, which I very wrongly assumed couldn’t be much different from the basketball I had played my entire life in the states.  If a family here has a television, then they also have satellite cable straight from New York, which exposes them to all things American, including sports.  They love the NBA, and from what I could make sense of in the disorganized and inconsistent games I played, it was their attempt at mimicking what they see from very talented and athletic NBA players on TV.   A lot of Belizeans have the athleticism, but that seems to be where they stop.  This is understandable though, as these guys have real life to tend to, unlike most kids in the US who are able to devote their young lives to a sport of their choice and receive personal attention from coaches who have done the same.  I tried my best to not pass judgment on their style of play and just assimilate, but after four games I never did figure out the order of it all that they seemed to apply without thinking.


A goal being scored during a football marathon at Cemetery Park on my last day in PG.  These kids were good, despite a beat up ball, no shoes or shin guards for most, and a muddy field with a few swampy spots that caught the ball and fell the kids whenever they tried to dribble through.

After that, I spent most of my remaining time in PG trying to organize and pack my things, meeting for a final time with people I knew I would not see for quite a while, and reflecting on my experiences of the past ten weeks.  Some obvious highlights for me were Christmas in Guatemala, the dairy goat workshop and family visits in Honduras, the cacao workshop with friends from Seattle, and life on the farm with the Caliz family.  Overall, the experience has taught me so much and given me perspective on life that I almost certainly would not have had otherwise.  All the time I spent with the families was invaluable in my quest to understand life in a developing area, as was the many hours I spent talking and working with the extentionists.  They all came from backgrounds similar to those of the members of the families we were working with, so getting their perspective after experiencing both sides was very powerful.  The past ten weeks has given me so many more friends, a much healthier perspective on life, and a functional understanding of some of the people we strive to help lift out of poverty, and I really couldn’t ask for much more.  I now, well in two days, turn my attention to the next place that I hope brings more of the same, in a much different way.


 

Me taking a big bite of a pineapple I just picked out at Mr. Sanchez’s farm in Stann Creek.  Mr. Sanchez has a thirty acre farm producing pineapple, plantains, oranges, cabbage, tomatoes, pumpkins, cucumbers, peppers, etc.  Before he worked with Juan, he only grew plantains for commercial sale.

 
Monday and Tuesday, I was so happy to work out a visit to the SHI programs in the Stann Creek district, just north of Toledo.  While there, I visited a lot of different families with Juan, one of the extentionists for SHI-Belize and the leader of the Stann Creek programs.  Seeing their work there, where most of the citrus and bananas come from in Belize, offered a better idea of how their programs work with families who have larger farms.  Juan’s approach is to first make sure they are fruitful in their farms, forgive the very bad pun, before moving to projects in and around their homes.  This is different than I had seen in Toledo, likely because most people in Stann Creek have more commercially productive farms than do people in Toledo.  Juan says that he likes this approach for two reasons: one, because it gauges the family’s commitment to the program very well at a low money and energy cost before moving onto more expensive and time consuming projects; two, because a productive farm is the first step to self-sustainability.  Once a family is able to produce food for themselves and an income by selling the excess, they are able to afford a progression of changes around their home.  I was unsure of how I felt about this approach before I saw it in action, but after a couple days of discussing it with Juan and visiting with his participants, I believe it to be very effective under the right circumstances.  The two nights I was there I stayed at Juan’s apartment, which is a very modest Belizean studio, meaning about 350 square feet with a hard tile floor, no furniture, and unreliable cold-water-only plumbing.  I slept on that hard tile floor in a sheet, with a rolled up sweatshirt for a pillow, making sleeping for more than an hour at a time nearly impossible, but that was not my chief complaint.  The first night, I woke up and found his computer screen still on, so I turned it off thinking I would save electricity and sleep better with less light.  Big mistake.  What I failed to think about in my middle-of-the-night lethargy was that cockroaches run rampant in Central America and love the dark.  A little while later I woke up with an itchy face, and as I scratched it, I felt the itch jump off my face and heard it scurry across the floor to hide under some rubber boots near the door.  I think I may have even ended up with one of its legs in my mouth, but that could have just been me exaggerating the situation.  Needless to say, I was a little shaken the rest of that night and made sure to keep the monitor on the following night.


Diego and I making our move to get as many tilapia as possible, as Estevan coaches.  The fish were taken from this hatchery to Mr. Cruz’s new fish pond on his farm.  I was extremely unsuccessful on my own with the net.  After seeing Estevan, Juan, and Diego have moderate success, I went in overconfident and caught only 7 fish in roughly 50 attempts.

As no situation, even one intentionally set aside to offer complete mental relaxation, is without its learning opportunities, I have the following thought from my final days in Belize to leave you with.  Yesterday I went on a tour of Cockscomb Basin, the only jaguar preserve in the world.  This tour consisted of a natural history and flora tour, a tubing trip down the South Stann Creek River, and a series of natural rock water slides.  While on the tube I was overcome with the striking metaphor this trip down the river was for life itself.  The more I fought against the mostly slow moving current to find my idea of the perfect route, free of rocks, sticks, and the river bank, the more I found myself running into rocks, sticks, and the river bank.  Also, the more I concentrated on the current itself, the less I even noticed the breathtaking beauty of the dense, lush jungle surrounding me.  The river became my life path, the current became the driving force of my life, and all the beauty surrounding me became, well it became all the beauty surrounding me in my life, being relationships, possessions, and vacations, to name a few.  None of us will ever know where the river of life will take us, or where or how it will end, be it a dramatic waterfall or a peaceful entrance into the sea.  We can identify the current, the driving force of our lives.  For me it is God’s love, but we each have our own carrying us in a unique way.  What we cannot know about the current is how fast or slow it will go throughout the river, or what route it will take us on.  In other words we cannot know how the current will get us down the river.  It may bounce us off a rock to get us back on course, run us through some mangroves to teach us a lesson, take us ashore for a little rest, or propel us carefree down the river to enjoy the peripheral beauty.   The only thing we have any control over in this river of life is our outlook.  With a trust of whatever our individual current may be and positive outlook, we will then be able to fully enjoy the journey itself and all the scenery around us.  This will also allow us to not be troubled a great deal by the rocks and sticks of life.  Once I took on this outlook in the river yesterday, I found myself much more relaxed, moving much more efficiently on a better route, and simply enjoying the beautiful journey.  I probably shouldn’t tell you that I then became the only one in the group to pop my tube on a big stick in the middle of the river, forcing me to walk the short remaining length of the journey.  At any rate, my final challenge from Belize for you all is to give some serious thought to what your driving force in life is and whether or not you can trust it.  If you cannot, I would bet there is a trustworthy current in your life waiting to be given the opportunity to take you down the river.   What is your outlook on life and what beauty is surrounding you that you do not appreciate or even notice?  The irony of it all is, as I addressed above, that you must not think too hard.  Just let it flow…

Experience is Knowledge

Posted by: jeffbates in Untagged  on Feb 12, 2009

Burton “The Organic Preacher” Caliz and I at the Mafredi Methodist School, where he helps the children once per week with their school garden.  I was told this is their favorite time of the week, and who can blame them?


As I sit here writing this entry, I am incessantly scratching the seemingly endless insect bites I was blessed with while staying with a farming family in Mafredi Village for the past three days.  Honestly, I have no fewer than 60 dreadfully itching bites, mostly concentrated on my elbows and forearms and my now swollen ankles.  While I thoroughly enjoyed my time with them and all the wonderful learning experiences that came along with it, I humbly admit that I am not cut out to be a full time farmer.  A couple of the experiences that I enjoyed, appreciated rather, the most were bathing with a bucket of rain water in a small structure with a privacy sheet around it that only came up to the bottom of my chest, and riding an old bicycle with a crooked rear wheel and defective pedals on very muddy road in the pouring rain for half an hour each way to get to and from the farm.  Mr. Caliz, who I found out was the 2005 Belize National Senior Organic Farmer of the Year, is known throughout the area as “The Organic Preacher.”  This name could not be more fitting, as he is constantly connecting organic farming to the meaning of life in catchy phrases, so much so that this deeply spiritual 56-year-old man says organic farming is his form of religion.  He says he feels more connected to the Creator when he is out on the farm than he does while singing songs in a man-made building, and after just three days with him I found it difficult to disagree with his stance.

Mr. Caliz teaching me how to get a papaya down by breaking it off with a stick and then quickly dropping the stick, as to have both hands ready to catch the papaya before it hits the ground and gets bruised.  Believe it or not, it is more complicated than it sounds.


This experience proved to be what I was hoping it would be.  It was a glimpse into the life of a poor farmer in a rural village of Southern Belize.  Mr. Caliz, who works literally 365 days per year, put me to work all day with him each day I was there, so I feel I got a good understanding of what his daily life is like.  I got tired, hungry, sore, and blistered, but certainly never bored, as even our down time during the harder rain was occupied by grinding ginger, sharpening tools, and doing lighter work close to the house.  I kept thinking about how I considered myself to have a good physical fitness level by most standards and yet I could scarcely keep up with this man who is more than twice my age.  The only condolence I offered myself was that I certainly could beat him in a foot race, but how exactly that was relevant I am not sure.  So I remain humbled and content with being in shape by the non-functional-for-most-of-the-world American standards.  I digress.   I am definitely much more excited and, I feel, equipped to start some smaller scale organic gardening when I return to the states and get my own property, assuming that ever happens.


Three of the products from the organic pesticide workshop.  The products that went into these include ground papaya and madre de cacao leaves, bar soap, boiled onions, and lime.  Hungry?


The rest of my time has been filled with normal day to day activities of visiting families and helping them with projects including mostly gardening and building stoves and latrines.  Last Friday I was able to participate in an organic pesticide and fertilizer workshop put together by one of the S.H.I. extentionists for area participants.  That was great for me because I had not yet learned the specifics of making and applying such materials.  Sadly I had to say goodbye to Kevin last week as well because he will be leading a couple different groups of volunteers in Honduras for the entirety of my remaining time here.  He was a great companion for me here, not only because he is a fellow gringo, but because he shares my desire for personal growth and my passion for appropriate development for people in developing areas of the world, all with a great sense of humor.  We spent a lot of time together sharing laughs and processing experiences and consequent evaluations.  Now I feel more isolated in my processing, which is not ideal for me as a verbal processor, but that is the reality and so I move forward with my journal as my best friend.  I have no problem with this.


Kayaking on Joe Taylor Creek.  As you can see, it is beautiful, running from deep in the mangroves all the way out to the Caribbean Sea. There are a lot of great animals to observe, including tons of little crabs, birds of all sorts, jumping fish, and brightly colored iguanas.


Since I got back last night from the farm, I have noticed my anxiety levels rising, which I originally pinned on returning to the stressful life in the metropolis of Punta Gorda.  So, naturally I went to my journal to organize and understand it, and I soon realized that this is just a natural part of transition for me.  As change approaches, I tend to get very reflective in hopes that I will see that I have taken full advantage of my current situation before I leave it behind.  That reflection never turns out quite the way I hope.  I have started to ask myself questions about whether or not I have done and learned all I wanted to, and made the most of my time in Central America.  Overall I would answer positively to both of those questions, with some obvious peaks and valleys along the way.  The people here have taught me so much and given me a perspective on life that I otherwise definitely would not have.  I am in much need of a few days to relax and reflect at this point, and avoid too many intense situations calling for processing, so a short stay in Placencia on my way to the Belize City airport next week will be very welcome.  I just can’t believe where I will be in now less than two weeks – living with a bunch of kids who have already in their young lives been through way more than I could be in my whole life.  I am so lucky to have the opportunity to spend time with them and learn from them.  I just hope I can return the favor and help them in some small way.

 

This is the welcome sign to Punta Gorda (“PG” to the locals) as you come into town from the north.  You can see from the sign that it is a very diverse town, with Mayans, Garifunas, East Indians, and many other groups represented as residents.

 

True Riches

Posted by: jeffbates in Untagged  on Feb 2, 2009

 

After about five minutes of tugging on this goat’s udders, I finally figured out the rhythm necessary to consistently get milk.  I felt bad for her that it took me so long, but she was a good sport and I think she enjoyed it, despite her many attempts to kick me and get away.

 

 

Is it really February already?  First of all, I would like to apologize to all four of my devout readers for the absence of last week’s post while I was in Honduras.  I got back to Punta Gorda last night after a couple smooth bus rides and a not-so-smooth boat ride from Guatemala that left my tail bone bruised and the skin on my face stinging from the pelting rain.  Kevin’s apartment and 13-inch TV served as our private super bowl party – I felt so American.   Perhaps the greatest part about this was that my stomach finally was feeling solid enough to digest most things again, after a five-day bout with what was informally self-diagnosed as amoebas.  Maybe it came from drinking goat’s milk straight from the udder or maybe it was something else completely unrelated.  I make no speculation on the cause, but the effect was undeniable.

 

 

 

Central Park of San Pedro Sula, taken from the steps of a beautiful church.  I loved the mountains behind it with the clouds settling in for the evening.  Honestly, it was about the only part of the city that I thought was beautiful.

 

 

Anyway, after returning from Honduras, I felt very refreshed and recharged, with vast new information, stories, and lessons.  I was able to spend a couple days in Subirana with a wonderful group of volunteers from the states learning about dairy goats and building the new goats a shelter.  Prior to my time there, goats actually freaked me out a little bit, but after jumping in to milk one and play with all the rest, I have actually come to like them quite a bit.  Amazing what a little open minded experience can do for someone, huh?  After a couple days with my new bearded, horned friends, Justin, the S.H.I. field program director, was nice enough to let me tag along with him for a couple days to check in on projects throughout the Yoro area.  This gave me a chance to see mostly newer participants in FUCOHSO’s (S.H.I. – Honduras) program, which mainly consisted of family gardens and sometimes the beginning of small commercialization for profit.  Also, there were a number of rural community banks set up by S.H.I. to help groups of farmers and families build capital through microfinancing.  I am a very critical person and I tend to pursue all the information I can get my hands on when learning about things, so naturally I had my criticisms, but all in all I was very impressed with the projects.  FUCOHSO is the oldest and best developed of all of S.H.I’s Central American affiliates, so it was really great for me to learn from them and see their organizational approach.  I am very grateful to each and every one of the staff that so generously gave of their time, energy, and expertise to help me out.

 

 

 

A FUCOHSO participant picking some green leaf lettuce for Justin and I to take with us.  His garden was beautiful and also was growing cabbage, red leaf lettuce, iceberg lettuce, onions, broccoli, tomatoes, peppers, and sweet potatoes, of course all organic.  By the end of the week I had memorized how to say about 20 vegetables in Spanish; it’s a good start at least.

 

 

Another great part of the trip was spending the last full day of the trip with the volunteer group at Pico Bonito National Park.  It took us just four short hours to make the journey of 97 miles, as the crow flies.  There were so many adventures there: riding across a river 50 feet above the water in a self-propelled basket bridge, some beautiful hikes, and, of course, an afternoon siesta in the hammock.  Without a doubt, my favorite activity there was an afternoon of playing in Rio Cangrejal.  This river was so beautiful – rushing blue and white water, relentlessly maneuvering its way through giant, scattered boulders, all set in a lush valley between San Judas and Nombre De Dios mountain ranges.  My favorite part about the afternoon was playing with the kids from the village.  They were kids in the truest sense of the word – no inhibitions and no end to their energy or laughter – and they were thrilled to let us join them in sliding on smashed 3 liter plastic bottles down a huge rock into the river.  I wish you all could have seen big, goofy, gringo me trying to stay on top of the bottle as I slid down the rock, being chased by at least three very adept Honduran kids each time.

 

 

 

 

 

Rio Cangrejal at dusk.  The boulders in this river were so impressive to me due to their size and their variety.  I know they don’t look big, but trust me they are huge, and the one in the back on the left bank of the river is the one we slid down.

 

 

That afternoon of playing with and observing the kids sunk a lesson into me in a much more profound way than ever before. “True wealth is not material.”  “The best things in life are free.”  “Money can’t buy happiness.” I know these are often stated, admittedly even by me, but I wonder how often they are truly understood and experienced.  I believe that we are all constantly experiencing these principles, but that, in our society, we are almost always obstructed from true understanding and consequent application.  The point of this lesson, besides obvious personal application, is its employment in the arena of relief and development in developing areas of the world.  I have always wondered how much culture, climate, and desires of individuals were taken into account when development projects were created and implemented.  Along with a need to understand the programs themselves that we will be supporting in the future, this was the main purpose of my journey.  If we apply our own understanding of the world and our standards based on our society, then nearly everyone is in need of relief and development because they don’t live the same as we do.  Most of us probably consider a family that lives in a small mud house without electricity or running water, has only a couple outfits each, and farms manually for their food and limited monetary profit to be very poor and in need of development assistance.  We may indeed be quite right, but we will never know by looking only at their external circumstances or even by analyzing their country’s GDP.  We can only know by getting to know them, their culture, their desires and abilities, and what resources they have at their disposal.  I am realizing more and more how the word “sustainable” does not apply simply to agriculture, but in fact to every aspect of human life, and it is much more complex in each of those aspects than I am qualified to discuss at this point.   What I can be sure of is that a great many people, myself included, would be much happier living the life I just described than the lives of many Western millionaires.  If I was forced between the two, I would much rather live life with a full heart and mind than a full wallet and bank account.  This all goes to say that it is vital that organizations for relief and development have a foundational element of personal relationships with their participants, and I would like everyone to be confident that ERace Poverty will partner only with such organizations.

 

 

 

Some Volunteers hanging on for dear life on their way to Cooperativa Juan Pablo II.  We went across this basket bridge to get to the sewing co-op.  The adventure of getting there and the products they made were both well worth the trip.

 

What Happened to the Dry Season?

Posted by: jeffbates in Untagged  on Jan 17, 2009

When December hits Southern Belize, the sun is supposed to come with it and stay for the next six months.  The sun has been nowhere to be found almost this entire week.  Today feels much more like Seattle than it does Belize, and it has rendered me bored and frustrated while hiding inside.  You see, everything here seems to be set up for outdoor activities, which is appropriate most of the time, but when it rains relentlessly like this there is little to do.  Couple that with me being sick all week and it is not hard to imagine that I have not had one of my best weeks here.  I caught a fever over last weekend, and was feeling better by Wednesday, when I apparently ate something bad.  Let's just say Wednesday night I spent nearly as much time with the toilet as I did with my pillow.  Thursday and Friday I didn't work because I was not able to hold down much, but today (Saturday) I am feeling almost back to normal.  I sure hope the rain stops soon so I can get back outside and feel alive again, not to mention get back to work in the field.

With all that said, as you can imagine, there is not much to update you on.  I did go work out in the field on Tuesday.  I helped construct the base for a stove and oven for a young widow who recently moved to a new home.  This was actually pretty fun, as my job that day mainly consisted of carrying very heavy sand and concrete bags on my shoulder from the truck to the home, which was about 200 yards away.  What made it even more fun was that the trail to get back there was narrow, uneven, muddy, and filled with very excitable pigs.  I think the extentionists I was working with have a skewed view, or maybe rather accurate view of gringos and our work ethic.  They all seemed to be so concerned about me carrying the bags and cement blocks, and were very quick and persistent in assuring me that I did not need to carry anything.  I was having a blast, and those of you who know me know that I love picking up heavy things and challenging myself in that way.  It could be argued, rather easily, that that is how I ended up with a back surgery at the age of 19, but we won’t go down that road.

I wish I had some exciting updates for you, or even a philosophical thought, but I’m afraid all the lost nourishment has left me without any brain power.  I am going to Honduras the end of next week, so I am excited about that.  When I come back from there, I will really only have about two weeks left at the office before I start making my way up the coast to Belize City, where I will start my long journey to Nairobi.  I have to concentrate on focusing on this next week, otherwise I get a little frantic that I only have a couple weeks left.  Hopefully the weather and my body will return to normal and I will get to go out in the field next week, before leaving for Honduras.  I can’t wait to update you on that once I get back.  I’m sure it will give me plenty of information and experiences to send your way.  Sorry there is not much to tell you this week, but I suppose this is a good lesson that not every week can be filled with nonstop excitement.

The first photo is of me carrying the final sand bag to the home on Tuesday.  You can see how dirty and maybe how exhausted I was by this point.  Lifting those things up to my shoulder, and then balancing them there for a couple minutes while I walked along the trail was very difficult.  The next one is of a HUGE bug that was on the landing of my friend’s apartment building.  It was there for almost 24 hours, which worried me that it was plotting something against me and was going to attack when I least expected it.  The third photo is of a cloudy sunset that I thought was just beautiful.  It reminded me a lot of the really bright and colorful sunsets in the Northwest.  That white building on the right is just about the biggest building in Punta Gorda at a skyscraping two stories.  Finally, this is a sign for the Belizian beer, Belikin, posted on a tree on the bank of the Moho River.  People here really only drink Belikin, Guiness, and Red Stripe, and rum of course.   That’s all I have for you this week, I look forward to giving you a lot more to chew on next time I write.  Be good to yourselves.

Home is where the Heart is

Posted by: jeffbates in Untagged  on Jan 11, 2009

 

Today marks about the halfway point of my work in Central America.  That statement probably doesn’t hit you quite the same way it hits me, does it?  In approximately five weeks I have done, seen, and learned more than perhaps any other five week period of my life, but I remain focused on what this place has left to teach me, even through my reflection.  I will be spending a week in Honduras to get involved in the programs at the largest S.H.I. field office.  While there, I mainly hope to learn about their approach to microfinance, as well as join a small group for a dairy goat workshop for a couple days.  I am very interested to see the differences between the country programs, whether those differences are due to culture, materials and resources, or simply experience level.  Another thing I will do in the next five weeks is a home stay with a local farmer.  This experience will be crucial to me actually understanding the life of a farmer in this area, as to know how current programs are helping and could be improved.  Outside of those two small journeys, I will make sure to learn about organic pesticides, composting, and irrigation practices.  Those are the few areas that S.H.I. is heavily involved in, with which I have yet to gain any understanding of concept and implementation.

 

So now that I have talked about what is coming up for me, how about we discuss the last week?  The Smaller World Chocolate Tour group made it here for about a week, and I was fortunate enough to join them in their activities most of the time.  We did and learned so much over a seven day period, including building a solar latrine and wood conservation stove, touring a couple different organic farms, making delicious chocolate by hand from freshly picked and roasted cacao beans, touring a local Mayan ruin, visiting a waterfall, and swimming through a huge cave system.  Sounds just like every week of your life, right?  Outside of all of that action, the best part for me about having the group here was the opportunity to connect and process with other Americans.  They stayed at Cotton Tree Lodge, which is a wonderful natural and environmentally friendly lodge with cabanas right on the Moho River.  That is where we decompressed and processed each evening.  The people in the group had so many questions for me that greatly helped me understand my experiences thus far, and also helped them take more away from theirs, I hope.  Also, hearing all of their reactions to, and personal insights on life here really helped to challenge and shape my own.  I value tremendously my personal reflection time, but this helped me realize the importance of verbally processing my experiences if I am to fully understand them.

 

 

 

Yesterday, as the group raced by me on the airstrip in a tiny airplane heading to Belize City, and onto their lives in the states, I waved goodbye and had a strange feeling of returning to real life myself.  Having them here, especially the Stein family, was like a vacation for me, and as they left I felt that, just as they soon would be, I too was now home.  It was that instant that I realized that “home” has changed dramatically for me in the past few months.  I have never understood the phrase, “Home is where the heart is” quite like I did at that second.  My heart is out here with these people, with their struggle, and with my small role in helping and empowering them in their fight against that struggle.   And so I am home.  Frederick Buechner’s character, Cuthbert, in his book, Godric, puts it this way – “When a man leaves home, he leaves behind some scrap of his heart.  It’s the same with a place a man is going to, only then he sends a scrap of his heart ahead.”  I am no longer living in Seattle, LA, or Salem, not right now, though a scrap of my heart rests in each place.  Right now I am at home in Belize, and soon I will be at home in Kenya, followed by Europe and eventually India.  Each one of those places represents a home to me because they represent a group of people with a struggle for survival, and an opportunity for me, all of us, to be involved in their victory and triumph against that struggle.

 

The top photo is of the group at Rio Blanco Falls, where we went on Thursday afternoon and got a chance to explore and swim.  On Wednesday, I went with a few of the extentionists to Boom Creek to help put up a thatch roof, made of cahun palm leaves, on an observation deck at the research center.  It was a lot more complex and difficult than I imagined it would have been, and you can tell from the photo that I was up in the air a bit trying to figure this thatching process.  I have been surprised to find out how much people here followed the U.S. presidential race, but what wasn’t surprising about it was which candidate the overwhelming majority of people supported.  This photo is an example of the way people campaign here - nothing official; just all homemade signs showing support for the candidate of their choice.  I love it.  For those of you who know me, the next photo might surprise you.  At Rio Blanco Falls, from the very spot we all stood for the group photo, I jumped about 30 feet down into the water.  I know that doesn’t sound like much to a lot of you, but I get terrified of jumping any more than about ten feet, so after about 20 minutes of trying to convince myself to jump, I finally did.  It was really important to me to have documentation of this jump.  The last photo is just because I am really cheesy.  This is a coconut, picked fresh from a tree at the research center, that I chopped open, drank the water inside, and then dove into the flesh of the fruit.  It was delicious, and I took this photo because it perfectly illustrates what I was talking about in the above paragraph.  The coconut is my whole heart, which is with me now in Belize, but you can see that the right side of it has some “scraps” missing, which are the scraps I have left behind and sent ahead.  I know, I know, I need to quit being so sentimental dramatic.  It is a piece of fruit, for crying out loud, but just let me have my moments.  Have a great week, everyone, and give some thought to where the scraps of your heart are, and if you truly are at home where you are right now.

 

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