life’s little laundry list.

wow.  it’s been so long since i’ve had time to actually sit down and write a post, i couldn’t possibly sum up everything that’s happened.  the ’short’ version goes something like this: since our safari in uganda, i have…

1. gone whitewater rafting and bungee jumping on the nile river

2. flown for 17 hours nonstop from dubai to new york

3. spent a week roaming aimlessly around new york city

4. seen 4 different shows on broadway

5. been to a mlb game at shea stadium and another at yankee stadium

6. come home early to attend the funeral of one of the girls from one of the teams i coached last year

7. driven from starkville to houston (texas, not mississippi) to apartment hunt for 3 days before being in one of my best friends’ wedding

8. flown BACK to ms

9. loaded all of my possessions into a moving truck

10. driven BACK to tx in a moving truck (with my dad and brother…all piled into the cab of the moving truck that only had 2 captain’s chairs…more on that later)

11. unloaded everything into my apartment in houston

12. watched the astros at minute maid park

13. driven back to ms to spend a week or so seeing family and friends

14. driven BACK to houston AGAIN

15. and attended a week and a half’s worth of new teacher orientation/staff development (of which tomorrow is the last installment…woo hoo!).

like i said, that is the ’short’ version, but maybe it shines a little light on why i haven’t posted in a while.  i’ll do my best to get a more in-depth description of everything asap.  ’til then… 

revelations, new names, and packing up.

thursday, 7.5 through friday, 7.6 – goodbyes are no fun.  on thursday, i said farewell to my students.  it was a really enlightening experience.  up until that point, i realized that the kids were excited to see a white man in their classroom.  however, when i told them it would be our last class together, thanked them for their cooperation and hard work, took pictures with them, and said goodbye, they responded with visible sadness.  i got several letters, poems, and songs that were written in my honor, thanking me for coming, lamenting my departure, etc.  one girl began to tear up when she came to the teachers’ room to give me the poem she wrote for me.  it was extremely hard to leave knowing that i might never see them again.

after school, isaiah and i went into town and worked on our portfolio for several hours.  i missed dinner at the house, so he and i had dinner together at bora bora.  i got home around 9:00.  loooong day.

friday was another long day.  isaiah and i met at 8:00 to finish up our work.  then all of the gulu high school teachers in the teacher exchange program (both american and ugandan) got together to practice and plan our presentation for saturday’s conference.  it went well, and we actually had a lot of fun planning it.  after we got done, we all took our partners to lunch at an acholi buffet place called diana gardens…it was SO good.  doubly so because i had a fanta citrus.  i’m not too crazy about sodas, but while i’ve been here, i’ve gotten hooked on that and a drink called mirinda fruity. the fanta is kinda like sprite, but not so syrupy sweet…and the mirinda reminds me of a grape tootsie roll pop…weird, i know, but it’s really really good!  i wish i could bring bottles back with me!

while we were at lunch, isaiah decided to reveal my ‘acholi name’…a lot of times, when a non-acholi visitor befriends an acholi, they are given a name that, much like acholi birth-names, represents the person in some way.  isaiah decided that my acholi name is “Oluma,” which is cool.  it’s kinda a long story though…

basically, since coming here, i’ve met lots of the locals, played soccer with a lot of the kids, and made lots of new acholi friends around town.  as a result, whenever any of the other teachers goes to town, they are [supposedly] asked “do you know bryan?” or “where is bryan?”…so, they all (i think phil started it) started referring to me by names like rock star, celebrity, etc.  they exaggerated it greatly, probably because they realized that it embarrassed me…anyway…

so apparently many many years ago, when the various europeans were conquering the various lands of africa, there was a huge fight in uganda.  the british were trying to take over (they eventually won), and the ugandans were fighting them.  largely outnumbered, tired, and beginning to lose the war of attrition, the ugandan troops were forced to retreat…UP a steep, rocky cliff face.  when the british began to follow, they began hurling rocks down on them, killing thousands of british soldiers.  the brits finally overpowered them, but not before suffering heavy casualties.  the ugandan soldiers (esp. the leaders) became instant legends of the country’s folklore.  the word ‘Oluma’ became a name used to refer to great (and usually victorious) war heroes.  over time, it became an extremely respectful name given to someone who is very famous and revered by the people…the name itself…well, some say it is because of the area in which the battle took place, while others claim it was one of the general’s names…i seemed to get a different story from everyone i asked…like i said, folklore.

anyway, isaiah (probably with a little influence from phil and my other colleagues) decided that this was a good name for me.  after seeing the reactions of some of the other ugandans when i told them my ‘acholi name,’ i came to realize that it is a very rare and prestigious name.  it is reserved for expressing very high honor and respect and is therefore very rare…ESPECIALLY for a westerner…so needless to say, i was extremely touched by the gesture.  it was a much more authentic name than most of the ones my coworkers got…basically, in some form or another, they all got a name that means ‘loved/beloved’ in some way.  i’m quite happy with mine.  especially since it came from isaiah.

anyway, friday night, we packed up (by candlelight and flashlight…yup, you guessed it…no power once again) and swapped pictures with some of the staff and other teachers from group 2.  we are leaving from the conference tomorrow to drive to masindi.  hard to believe we’ve been here over 4 weeks already…

perspective.

sat, 6.23 – today we visited an idp (internally displaced people) camp call Awer (pronounced ‘away’). it was a really really heavy visit, and it made me very contemplative afterwards. we arrived near the center of the camp because that is where the small hut where some of the bracelet makers for invisible children are located. **if you are unfamiliar with the i.c. bracelet campaign, you should go to invisiblechildren.com and read about it** we visited with them for a few minutes, saw where/how/by whom the bracelets are made, and then walter, the man who is in charge of the bracelet operations there and at 2 other locations (not in camps), assigned us various tasks to do around the camp. phil and i pumped water…at one of the four bore-holes in the entire camp…4 wells for 50,000 people! some of the rest of our group swept out and organized a hut, sold vegetables in the small market, cleaned and cooked random meat (i think i saw intestines in the pictures too…), and a few other odd jobs. after we finished working (about an hour), we walked through some of the camp. we were followed by a mob of children who were intrigued by this group of mzungus who was ‘touring’ their ‘home’.

i understand that the intention of having us do work in the camp was to keep us from seeming like we were there as simple tourists. ‘conflict tourism’ has become a rampant business in this part of the world, as people are becoming rich by marketing the ‘experience’ of interacting with these unfortunate people to westerners. as a result, many of the conscious organizations (such as invisible children) are making a concerted effort to avoid the appearance of such tourism. for instance, they asked that we only take one camera if we wanted to document the trip into the camp, and they have always emphasized the importance of asking permission before taking anyone’s picture. however, i felt that our doing chores in the camps was so contrived that it merely made our presence there seem MORE like that of a group of tourists. i mean, we drove in, piled out of the mutatu, met with the bracelet makers, ‘worked’ for an hour, went walking about the camp as if it were a zoo or aquarium, piled back into our vehicle, and drove back to our comfortable lives in our walled compound with our laptops and our running water and electricity. how can any self-aware person who is sensitive to the needs of the people around him NOT feel totally invasive, intrusive, and selfish in such circumstances? it was really a difficult emotion to wrestle with…the entire way home, i tried to work through all the feelings and thoughts running through my head – guilt, shame, disgust, self-loathing, awareness, etc. – but i could not come to terms with them completely. maybe i never will. maybe we’re not supposed to be able to…

my heart truly breaks for these people. i will, in a few short weeks, return to my home, to all of the hustle and bustle of my daily life. i will leave these people in their despair and empty lives to go back to my life…a life that i’ve complained and groaned about time and time again. back home, to all of the ‘stuff’ that i have worked so hard to accumulate. and even now as i write these lines, i have to choke back tears because i realize just how self-centered i am. i have a roof over my head that doesn’t leak. i have electricity and clean, drinkable, running water. i have family members who are all alive and healthy, none of whom carry hideous scars of torture or landmines or mutilation that act as a reminder of the conflict that destroyed life as usual. i have enough clothes to outfit a small army, enough food for way more than myself, enough money to merit throwing it away on things like movies, music, and books. and yet i still complain??? i am selfish, disgusting, and self-centered.

it is impossible to be here in this place, amongst these people, and not be changed. i am praying very sincerely that, as i return to the states and resume my life, i will be able to find the fine line between personal awareness and self-righteousness judgment of those around me. i wrestle daily with the idea of God’s sovereignty and mercy. it is so hard to accept the idea that He allows this to happen to these people while we live in such relative luxury. why should i be allowed to live comfortably while people here suffer? i certainly don’t deserve it any more than any of these people do. please continue to pray for me as i grapple with these emotional and spiritual obstacles.

if this blog achieves nothing else, i pray that it will make people more aware of the fortune and immense wealth that we live with daily as americans. please know that, regardless of what you do or do not have, there are millions of people here who have NOTHING.

i pray that the perspective that i’ve acquired here can touch more lives than just mine. i have looked into the eyes of these people, and the hopelessness and anguish that i have seen there is something that i will carry with me for the rest of my life.

babywipe showers, lots of candles, and friends around town.

mon, 6.18 through fri, 6.22 – this week began to feel like a routine.  we have become comfortable in our schedules, and i’ve learned my way around town pretty well…or at least well enough to get to the few places that i frequent.  we went without power from sunday morning through early wednesday morning, and did not have any running water at the house during that same time.  the group of roadies (the college students who were sharing the house with us for the past week…they’re called ‘roadies’ because they’re the ones who have spent the majority of the last year touring the u.s. to screen the invisible children dvd to people all over the country) anyway, they left on sunday morning, and the second group of teachers will not arrive ‘til wednesday, so the 6 of us had the house to ourselves for a few nights.  on sunday night, we tried to watch cinderella man, but the disc was scratched up, so we all went to bed around 9:30.  monday night, we watched love actually…which was pretty good. 

the rest of the week was pretty good, aside from the 4 days of ‘baby-wipe showers’ and candlelit nightlife.  my lessons have all gone well, and i’ve enjoyed getting to meet people at various places in town.  the second group of teachers arrived on wednesday, and they seem pretty cool.  on friday, danielle, catherine, and i all ate lunch with them and walked around downtown, helping them find their way around.  it was kinda neat to realize how much i’ve grown accustomed to the people, places, and cultures here.  i must admit, it’s cool to walk through a market or into a business and have someone exclaim, “bryan!” (actually, it sounds more like “bry-yown”) and rush to greet you with a handshake or a hug.

blog title explained.

ok, so about the name of this humble little blog…it comes from a quote from the late, great Archimedes (the godfather of simple machines) in reference to the power of the lever…he said “give me a lever long enough and a place to stand [in space], and i can move the world.”

 ”wow,” you must be thinking, “how pretentious and cocky is THIS guy?”  i could argue against such assumptions, but would it really change your opinion of me?  furthermore, does it make THAT much of a difference to me?  not really.  nevertheless, i will oblige…

arrogantly boastful?  no. 

a bit naive?  probably.

optimistic?  definitely. 

but optimism, in my experience with it, is a good thing.  i teach high school kids english (a job which, in and of itself, is a case study in optimism…but we’ll save THAT for another day).  i teach them about literature.  i teach them about grammar.  but most importantly, i teach them about life.  i teach them that words are one of the most powerful currencies that they will ever possess.  i teach them that, if they cannot put their thoughts into words and communicate them to others, they might as well be stripped of their ability to think.

call me a nerd, a bookworm, a softy…call me what you like, but the fact of the matter is this: i believe in the power of words.  words can break people.  words can build people up and give them meaning and purpose.  words can hurt; they can just as easily heal.  in our society, words are power.  illiterate people do not call the shots on wall street, on capitol hill, in the news.  the broader one’s experiences are, the larger his vocabulary…and his influence.

 so, returning to my initial intent of explaining the purpose of this blog, i say this:  this is simply a collection of words.  words that i have gleaned from my experiences, from my life, from the lives of others.  i realize that over the course of my life, i have been changed by the words of countless other people. 

i encourage anyone reading this…do not be scared to be moved by words.  do not be afraid to be changed by them.  that is simply their nature.  whether we’re talking about literary words; stupid, rambling, stream-of-consciousness blog entries; song lyrics; famous quotes; or the Word itself…words change lives.

and so my hope is this: that someone, somewhere will be touched, moved, encouraged, entertained, or maybe even changed by the words contained in these pages.

so here’s to optimism…and words.