Im just waiting for the church service tonight, so I thought Id hop online and blog a bit. I just finished watching Harry Potter with my Bolivian family, which was pretty nice. At this moment in my house, a couple of children are crying for unknown reasons and somebody is pumping up pool toys for the vacation to the Yungas. Im not going. I decided to stay in La Paz and hang out with the Hursts and have a more traditional North American Christmas. Im excited. Faith is going to have me and Greg make some homemade eggnog and were having some other missionaries over for Christmas dinner. Theyre all people Im friends with, so it will be good.
Christmas here is pretty big. There is a lot of traffic and buying of things. Its similar to the United States. Over the years, Christmas has slowly been imported into Bolivia and now it is quite popular, but it doesnt have the strong family ties that it has in the United States. Friends can get together for Christmas and go see a movie, its not an exclusive family thing. A couple of houses have Christmas lights, but not many. Santa is dancing in the street selling counterfiet shoes, and all the stores are reeling out gingerbread cookies with hard, sour frosting. Its close, but not exactly the same. Hope all is well back home.
Merry Christmas,
Clay
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Art Museum and South Africans
I have reached what I will call the blogging paradox- that is, when you actually have something great to blog about, youre not there to blog about it.
Last Tuesday, I went with my friend Blas to an art museum in downtown LaPaz. Blas is an art student here. He is really good. The art museum was not huge, but with Blas there to explain things, it was amazing. Ive never had such an enlightening time at an art museum.
I dont know where to start with the art museum. Theres too much to tell about to keep your attention through a blog post, so Im going to have to cut it extremely short.
"Heaven is my throne, and the earth is muy footstool. What kind of house will you build for me? says the Lord. Or where will my resting place be? Has not my hand made all these things?" These are the words of the prophet Isaiah in the last chapter of his book and also the last words of Stephen before he is stoned by the Jews of Cyrene and Alexandria before the Sanhedrin. Stephen essentially says the Jews have been, and still are, a rebelous nation bent on worshiping idols. He even goes so far as to say that the Holy Temple is an idol created by man in rebellion against the God who cannot be contained by a building.
In South America, Catholicism is quite a different animal. When the conquistadors came to South America, they evangelized the indigenous people, but their efforts ran a slightly destructive route. In their attempt to bring the people the one true God, they were unable to draw away from the deeply-rooted idolatry already formed in the indigenous religion. The ancient religions still live on today, but with different faces of saints and apostles and angels. The ancient mother-earth god Pachamama is portrayed as Mary with the moon at her feet and the stars at her head. El Tio is the ancient god of the underworld who has become the diablo or devil. Before they set off for work, miners still offer sacrifices to the devil the same way they offered sacrifices to el tio in ancient times. Catholics at many churches will have formal processions where they put money into the clothes of different statues of saints.
The art shows evident traces of this. Most of the art is done by indigenous artists but with strong European influences, so it doesnt look like any sort of tribal artwork or anything, but mixed in with the strong Christian symbolism are things that seem slightly askew. There are some paintings portraying three Christs crowning Mary. These paintings were deemed heretical by the Catholic church for representing God as three identical persons. Its interesting to see that where there is not extreme cultural tension between the old ways and the new, there is extreme synchrotism acting as a sort of peacemaker. I wonder what would happen if Stephen were here to give his anti-temple speech today?
This is already too long. I was going to write about my adventure to Lake Titicaca with the South Africans, but this post is long enough. I leave you with pictures to see of the trip. Ask me about it when I get home.
Last Tuesday, I went with my friend Blas to an art museum in downtown LaPaz. Blas is an art student here. He is really good. The art museum was not huge, but with Blas there to explain things, it was amazing. Ive never had such an enlightening time at an art museum.
I dont know where to start with the art museum. Theres too much to tell about to keep your attention through a blog post, so Im going to have to cut it extremely short.
"Heaven is my throne, and the earth is muy footstool. What kind of house will you build for me? says the Lord. Or where will my resting place be? Has not my hand made all these things?" These are the words of the prophet Isaiah in the last chapter of his book and also the last words of Stephen before he is stoned by the Jews of Cyrene and Alexandria before the Sanhedrin. Stephen essentially says the Jews have been, and still are, a rebelous nation bent on worshiping idols. He even goes so far as to say that the Holy Temple is an idol created by man in rebellion against the God who cannot be contained by a building.
In South America, Catholicism is quite a different animal. When the conquistadors came to South America, they evangelized the indigenous people, but their efforts ran a slightly destructive route. In their attempt to bring the people the one true God, they were unable to draw away from the deeply-rooted idolatry already formed in the indigenous religion. The ancient religions still live on today, but with different faces of saints and apostles and angels. The ancient mother-earth god Pachamama is portrayed as Mary with the moon at her feet and the stars at her head. El Tio is the ancient god of the underworld who has become the diablo or devil. Before they set off for work, miners still offer sacrifices to the devil the same way they offered sacrifices to el tio in ancient times. Catholics at many churches will have formal processions where they put money into the clothes of different statues of saints.
The art shows evident traces of this. Most of the art is done by indigenous artists but with strong European influences, so it doesnt look like any sort of tribal artwork or anything, but mixed in with the strong Christian symbolism are things that seem slightly askew. There are some paintings portraying three Christs crowning Mary. These paintings were deemed heretical by the Catholic church for representing God as three identical persons. Its interesting to see that where there is not extreme cultural tension between the old ways and the new, there is extreme synchrotism acting as a sort of peacemaker. I wonder what would happen if Stephen were here to give his anti-temple speech today?
This is already too long. I was going to write about my adventure to Lake Titicaca with the South Africans, but this post is long enough. I leave you with pictures to see of the trip. Ask me about it when I get home.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Stay tuned...
wow, that phrase really doesnt mean much anymore. but yeah, dont turn that dial, even though nobody has dials anymore, because Im about to blog about my time at the art museum with Blas; phenomenal. Im too tired right now to talk about it and Im going to be gone for a couple days in Copacabana, so hang tight.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Ministry
Looking back on my blog, I notice that I have not given a very clear, cut-and-dry description of my ministry here. Its not that this is a difficult thing to do, but I feel that to so would be taking away from the true nature of the work of God.
If I were to simply tell you what I do here, I would tell you that I go hang out with shoe-shiners and play soccer and wally-ball with them. I would tell you that the work I do is significant because most shoe-shiners grow up in a very rough background and because of this identity they usually drink and find other lowly pastimes to participate in. I would tell you that I am significant because I am building relationships with them and showing them a different way to live in light of Christ. I would say that those who have supported me can rest assured that their money is being used for the causes of Christ and then explain why. I would do all these things and then sit back and feel like crap.
Everything I stated above is true. The ministry I am helping with is great work. There is nothing wrong with it. My problem is in relaying the message to you all back home. Coming to Bolivia, I had this idea that missionaries were some sort of super-Christians, able to step out in faith in a strange and dangerous land to risk their lives for the Lord, unlike the majority of Christians who simply stay in their hometown and go to work. This is not true. Missionaries are ordinary people with ordinary days, ordinary problems, and ordinary families. There is nothing "super" about them apart from their identity in Christ. They are just like you. Seriously.
My problem with giving an account of my ministry time is that I do not want you to go away envisioning me as some sort of super-Christian. What I do is important, but what you do is equally important. A strong temptation for me is to tell you all about all the shoe-shiners and youth I meet, tell you about every bruise and scar and bad smell, then tell you about the laughter and the brightness in their lives, then tell you about their immenent destruction, then tell you about the hope they have in Christ. None of these are bad, but for the hidden adgenda of what would be my writing. I secretly want your aproval. I secretly feel that I must present to you a scenario more dramatic than the one you experience in the United States because not to do so would be boring and uninspiring. I refrain from giving you the sob-story detailes because I find it not only unfair to the people I work with, but also destructive to your perspective. The last thing I want is to create for you some fantasy world where REAL ministry happens, somewhere far away (like Bolivia) where you dont know anybody. The last thing I want to do is to separate YOUR world from THE world. We are not seperate.
I find it fascinating at how different this place is not. Sure there are cultural differences, people drive differently and speak a different language, but its really not all that different. People are still people. They still smile and laugh. They still get angry when someone cuts them off. They still discipline their kids. They still like it when you call them by name. This is not a fantasy world. This is not some "far-away land" with poverty and homless people and jobless parents and possibly elves and hobbits. No, this is an ordinary place with ordinary people, and we, as ordinary people, need to start taking some ordinary steps to help out in extraordinary ways. In Bolivia, in Mongolia, in Somonauk, in Sandwich. I want you to know that this is not an alien world, and that the love of Christ, no matter where it happens, transcends the system of a world bent on its own destruction. Missionaries are nothing special or supreme to spread the love of Christ. They are but one part among many in the body of Christ.
And so, I look not for your approval. I look not for you to feel that your money was well spent. Instead I ask for your participation in a world lost and hungry for truth, for love, for oportunity, and for hope. God bless.
Grace and Peace,
Clay
If I were to simply tell you what I do here, I would tell you that I go hang out with shoe-shiners and play soccer and wally-ball with them. I would tell you that the work I do is significant because most shoe-shiners grow up in a very rough background and because of this identity they usually drink and find other lowly pastimes to participate in. I would tell you that I am significant because I am building relationships with them and showing them a different way to live in light of Christ. I would say that those who have supported me can rest assured that their money is being used for the causes of Christ and then explain why. I would do all these things and then sit back and feel like crap.
Everything I stated above is true. The ministry I am helping with is great work. There is nothing wrong with it. My problem is in relaying the message to you all back home. Coming to Bolivia, I had this idea that missionaries were some sort of super-Christians, able to step out in faith in a strange and dangerous land to risk their lives for the Lord, unlike the majority of Christians who simply stay in their hometown and go to work. This is not true. Missionaries are ordinary people with ordinary days, ordinary problems, and ordinary families. There is nothing "super" about them apart from their identity in Christ. They are just like you. Seriously.
My problem with giving an account of my ministry time is that I do not want you to go away envisioning me as some sort of super-Christian. What I do is important, but what you do is equally important. A strong temptation for me is to tell you all about all the shoe-shiners and youth I meet, tell you about every bruise and scar and bad smell, then tell you about the laughter and the brightness in their lives, then tell you about their immenent destruction, then tell you about the hope they have in Christ. None of these are bad, but for the hidden adgenda of what would be my writing. I secretly want your aproval. I secretly feel that I must present to you a scenario more dramatic than the one you experience in the United States because not to do so would be boring and uninspiring. I refrain from giving you the sob-story detailes because I find it not only unfair to the people I work with, but also destructive to your perspective. The last thing I want is to create for you some fantasy world where REAL ministry happens, somewhere far away (like Bolivia) where you dont know anybody. The last thing I want to do is to separate YOUR world from THE world. We are not seperate.
I find it fascinating at how different this place is not. Sure there are cultural differences, people drive differently and speak a different language, but its really not all that different. People are still people. They still smile and laugh. They still get angry when someone cuts them off. They still discipline their kids. They still like it when you call them by name. This is not a fantasy world. This is not some "far-away land" with poverty and homless people and jobless parents and possibly elves and hobbits. No, this is an ordinary place with ordinary people, and we, as ordinary people, need to start taking some ordinary steps to help out in extraordinary ways. In Bolivia, in Mongolia, in Somonauk, in Sandwich. I want you to know that this is not an alien world, and that the love of Christ, no matter where it happens, transcends the system of a world bent on its own destruction. Missionaries are nothing special or supreme to spread the love of Christ. They are but one part among many in the body of Christ.
And so, I look not for your approval. I look not for you to feel that your money was well spent. Instead I ask for your participation in a world lost and hungry for truth, for love, for oportunity, and for hope. God bless.
Grace and Peace,
Clay
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
A Visit to my Extended Family in Cochabamba
I go to Cochabamba so often, its like home away from home away from home. Dave and Dana, the everpresent guest house grandparents were glad to see me. We talked for awhile and got up to date on life. Dana made me some breakfast and we had tea with Vicky, the cute journalist from England. It was her last day, but she and Dana were really excited because her story had just been published about Danas weaving ministry with local Ketchuan women. Then in the afternoon, I saw my dear lawyer who is always there with a smile to help me hurdle through the extensive bureaucracy of Bolivian paperwork. We had a grand afternoon jogging from office to office, signing papers and cutting in line. After all my visa business was taken care of, I bid her farewell and made my way to the office.
Just like strolling into Grandmas kitchen and smelling apple pie in the oven, I walked into the office and was greeted by about four "hola, Clayton"s and numerous "como esta?"s. I met up with the short-term coordinator Amalia, almost like my adopted older sister. We had earlier gone out for lunch and had a good talk about missionary work. She introduced me to a team from South Africa. They were fun people out on a sort of ministry tour of Bolivia. Theyre supposed to be coming to La Paz with Amalia sometime soon and Amalia invited me to go with them to Copacabana and Lake Titicaca. In the evening, I packed up my stuff and said a long farewell to Dave and Dana and went with Amalia to the train station for my night bus home. It was a fun time. Im going to miss dear Cochabamba and the family I have there.
Just like strolling into Grandmas kitchen and smelling apple pie in the oven, I walked into the office and was greeted by about four "hola, Clayton"s and numerous "como esta?"s. I met up with the short-term coordinator Amalia, almost like my adopted older sister. We had earlier gone out for lunch and had a good talk about missionary work. She introduced me to a team from South Africa. They were fun people out on a sort of ministry tour of Bolivia. Theyre supposed to be coming to La Paz with Amalia sometime soon and Amalia invited me to go with them to Copacabana and Lake Titicaca. In the evening, I packed up my stuff and said a long farewell to Dave and Dana and went with Amalia to the train station for my night bus home. It was a fun time. Im going to miss dear Cochabamba and the family I have there.
Friday, December 5, 2008
When I Get Home
Over the last couple months I have had a good amount of time to get used to the culture, the people, and the food. That is to say that I have also had time to dwell on what I love so much that is missing. A list has since developed itself in my mind of things to do/eat when I get home; things I so dearly miss.
1. See my parents and my brother
2. Play MY guitar
3. Drive a car
4. Take a bath
5. Eat Oreos with whole milk
6. Listen to music - LOUD
7. Play my Epiphone - LOUD
8. Get some over-priced coffee with a friend
9. Throw toilet paper in a toilet
10. Watch a movie without subtitles
11. Drink from a hose
12. Kick a small dog (dont worry, Ill hold back on that)
13. Make fire
14. Eat Uncle Lars Pizza (or a fine Chicago-style deep-dish)
15. Have breakfast and a conversation at Country Kitchen
16. Play with a band
17. Eat any sort of pie made with fruit
18. Burn my back on a heater
19. Go to Brothers with Andy or Zac
20. Sleep in a bed that is at least 6 feet 2 inches long
Hopefully this gives you a little insight as to what everyday life is like in Bolivia.
1. See my parents and my brother
2. Play MY guitar
3. Drive a car
4. Take a bath
5. Eat Oreos with whole milk
6. Listen to music - LOUD
7. Play my Epiphone - LOUD
8. Get some over-priced coffee with a friend
9. Throw toilet paper in a toilet
10. Watch a movie without subtitles
11. Drink from a hose
12. Kick a small dog (dont worry, Ill hold back on that)
13. Make fire
14. Eat Uncle Lars Pizza (or a fine Chicago-style deep-dish)
15. Have breakfast and a conversation at Country Kitchen
16. Play with a band
17. Eat any sort of pie made with fruit
18. Burn my back on a heater
19. Go to Brothers with Andy or Zac
20. Sleep in a bed that is at least 6 feet 2 inches long
Hopefully this gives you a little insight as to what everyday life is like in Bolivia.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Im Still Alive
I havent updated in awhile, so I thought Id let you know Im still alive and kicking. Things have been a little dull lately, but next Monday I am finally on my way to Cochabamba again to finish up my visa business. I have been an illegal alien for over a month trying to scavenge up all the right documents, and now Im all ready to go. Just a few more sets of fingerprints and some signatures and I should be good.
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