I’m still trying to wrap my head and my heart around the latest transition. We’re back in Florida and I’m not quite sure how to adjust. It’s all natural and easy to get back into the groove of things but it’s my mental state that isn’t just as it was. It hits me at odd times too. I try to convince myself, often, not to feel guilty about being here or about the luxuries afforded us, though it’s not easy. I’m not sure guilt does anyone any good, though I think it’s pretty natural and healthy at times. You can’t let it take over though. Been reading “Good News About Injustice” and it’s helping me process a lot of the junk that we’ve been thinking about since Ghana.
The hard thing about having wise people in your life is that you always have to listen to reason! I’m kidding, of course. But sometimes you really just want to be angry and vent or let all the crap out that doesn’t make any sense but you feel anyways. I’m thankful to have people that let me do this; I do know the right response and the proper answers to these feelings, but sometimes the answers just don’t add up with the emotions.
I know that I’m supposed to relate myself to the Pharisees and to Judas, but sometimes the most I can admit to is being like Peter. I may not always be able to admit that I pounded a nail into the cross (though I know I did) I can admit, at least, that I denied him. That I didn’t do anything to stop it from happening. That I was complicit in the act through my silence, or through my inaction; by running away. I contribute to the injustice in the world when I forget the hope that I have in my heart and I do nothing. I often want to run away from pain. It’s not the way anyone wants to live, but it’s also not something anyone can avoid. I figure I might as well experience pain for the right reasons since I’m bound to experience it either way. Dealing with heartbreak for injustice you see seems at least to be a worthy cause for pain. It’s hard not to allow it to debilitate you, though. If it renders you useless, then there’s no point. You have to remain hopeful, and I believe the only way to do this is through knowing the one who gives hope. The only one who loves even those of us who run away, who deny him, even us who nailed him there.
The truth is, I don’t want to love those people. As Yancey puts it I don’t want to admit that those who sin differently than me receive grace just the same as I do. I’m not saying all sins are equal, but I do believe the potential is inside me for evil as much as there is for good. I just struggle differently than those I find so repulsive. It’s not an easy pill to swallow. But somehow it actually helps me believe that there is still hope, because I know that each person has a chance for redemption, and even those I can’t stand are still made in the image of a beautiful God who finds something wonderful in them. I’m glad because I know I’m one of those people that some people can’t stand and it’s reassuring to know that even people like me have something good inside, something worth loving.

Here’s my favorite part, so far, of Haugen’s book;
“The oppressor knows that the primary reason we do nothing is because we have lost any hope of making a difference. It is not that we lack power, compassion, courage or knowledge. Rather, we lack a sense of hope that allows us to take what we have into the fray. By sheer inertia, therefore, we lend our own weight to the downward cycle of despair. Our lack of hope keeps us from the front lines of engagement. And our absence only makes the oppressor look stronger, compounding our own despair and that of those who might otherwise be prepared to fight.”

I found this to be very true. I liken it to the stock market panic, when people start pulling out it causes others to fear the worst and pull out as well and leave nothing but hopelessness. There have been plenty of times when we have wanted to give up and walk away. Chalk it up to a good lesson God wanted to teach us and move on to something easier with the knowledge in our pockets. But we know that in a way we would be lending to the forces of despair and the hopelessness that we want to fight.
It’s frustrating that it can’t be somehow easier, but we’ve seen those who pin it down in a formulaic process and that doesn’t seem to do justice to the intricate situations and personalities of the victims. It often ends up oversimplifying lives and not allowing the reality of the situation to make you uncomfortable. This usually ends up creating bad formulas or simply ineffective ones that make no difference at all or actually hurt those we are supposedly helping.

“Some of us grow so frustrated by the fact that something as important and wonderful as justice cannot be reduced to a handy word formula that we begin to give up on justice – believing that something so vague cannot be so important or wonderful after all, even concluding that it probably doesn’t actually exist. Similarly, some people find the meaning of life so elusive that they also give up on its pursuit.”

I feel like I’m repeating myself too much. I hope a little bit of this makes some sense.

Pictures, finally!

If you’ve ever seen the movie “The gods must be crazy” you know the hilarity and tragedy that sometimes comes with cultural differences. In the movie a coke bottle is dropped by a passing helicopter into a remote African village. The indigenous people find the bottle and think it was sent by the gods. They marvel at it with curiosity and wonder. It becomes something highly valued and soon the villagers begin to fight over the unique gift they were given. The longer they keep the thing around the more problems it causes. The villagers realize that this gift was not for their benefit, though it seemed amazing at first, it actually does much harm and causes all kinds of conflict between people. Someone actually gets killed as a result. The elders of the village meet and decide that they must do whatever they can to rid themselves of this cursed object.
I was recently reminded of the metaphor this movie provides. Though I haven’t seen it since I was a kid I remember enough of the story to see its importance. The last time I saw it I mostly appreciated it for the comedic scenes where an clumsy Australian aid worker tries to woo a foreign woman and his jeep ends up in a tree (or something like that, it’s been a while). I wasn’t too much of a deep thinker back then, though I’m sure my parents tried to explain the lesson involved.
Our entire experience here has transformed our view of “aid” work, and has confirmed some suspicions we had looming in the back of our skeptical minds. Unfortunately the “gift” of money that Americans are sending here, which is very often dropped haphazardly into unsuspecting places, appeals greatly to the locals at first. What we have seen firsthand is the corruption and manipulation it causes and the conflicts that arise at the expense of innocent victims.
At the end of the movie a designated member of the community is given the task of walking to the end of the earth and getting rid of the thing that has caused so many problems. When he comes to a huge cliff, he throws the bottle over the edge and asks the gods what they were thinking when they sent this strange and terrible gift. I feel like being that guy. I’m almost committed to walking to the edge of the earth to get rid of this gift that is causing such horrible problems and perpetuating cycles of greed, bribery and corruption.
Some people become so dependent on financial support from those in the west that they get locked into unethical and corrupt situations which take control of their entire lives. We have seen good-hearted, caring people bend to the will of those with questionable motives and manipulative tactics. There are organizations here who use money to take advantage of the culture of bribery (though they would never call it that) and gain the loyalty of locals who are then susceptible to exploitation.
The issue of child slavery and the trafficking of children is cultural and very complex. Anyone who tries to simplify it is missing a lot of the point. I’m not trying to excuse it, but many people don’t realize that some children are trafficked into a better life than they would have with their families (living on the street, eating out of the garbage). Some parents believe this is an opportunity for their child to learn a skill and gain some education and an occupation. Many slave masters were forced into labor themselves as children. We have seen the release of these children to ngos through means that perpetuate the trafficking. If the fishermen are given enough compensation for the kids they give up they have more incentive to buy children in the first place. Why not buy children from parents and sell them at a higher price to the western ngos? Not to mention the appeal of children getting free schooling and housing -this has driven parents to lie and claim their children were trafficked who are their own for the sole purpose of getting them into the accommodations and care of the ngo. If you think the slave trade with West Africa ended decades ago, you’ve just learned the truth. It’s ugly. It’s very uncomfortable and incredibly heartbreaking, but the truth of the matter is we are funding it. Americans, churches, kids birthday money that they sacrifice to help others. I wish I was kidding. Whether you care about this particular issue or another, my main goal in telling this story is that everyone who donates or supports any organization knows exactly where their money is going. The sad truth is many people don’t care. It feels good to give, it feels good to put a picture of a cute kid on the fridge and tell others about the difference you are making. But do you know what goes on behind the scenes? Do you know what that organization stands for? It’s so easy to manipulate people. It’s easy to blockbuster it and sell it. We really need accountability. God help us if we ever refuse it.

We had some incredible experiences this past weekend. First we had a meeting with some village chiefs. We felt a little like we were living in a national geographic magazine. The village is helping us and partnering with our organization for the betterment of the children. We arrived during a local funeral so we had to wait a while before the ceremony ended and everyone gathered for the meeting. We entered one of the chiefs’ households and sat in a circle in the courtyard waiting for everyone to arrive. This particular village had eight chiefs. Their carved stools sat royally along the back wall and were slowly filled with elegantly dressed men wrapped African-toga-style in yards of shimmery cloth, traditional hats, beaded necklaces, bracelets and embellished sandals. They carried canes with animal carvings and had a very formal process to discussing our purpose. There was an assembly man, a spokesman, a liaison/translator and about 10 other bystanders who I’m guessing were influential men in the community. We felt so vulnerable and tried not to make any wrong moves or offend anyone. Mostly we just listened to a lot of talking (which we didn’t understand), smiled, nodded, said thank you very much, and tried to remember every detail of what was happening.
Then on Monday we took the worst road in the entire world for nine hours straight up to Lake Volta and met with some indigenous leaders to discuss our vision, values and purpose. We made some great connections and saw a bit more of what Ghana is all about. We visited a beautiful village and the people were exceptionally friendly and kind. We spoke with a few fishermen and local chiefs about the issue of child trafficking and child labor. We spent the day there and drove back the same day (almost a 24 hour trip). Our driver had apparently booked two jobs at the same time so he was desperate to get back and his boss kept calling to see how close (far) he was. The minivan we took had no shocks and we were sitting in the back on a dirt road after a long rainy season. It was pretty much like placing speed bumps every two feet for a thousand miles and then driving as fast as possible over them for eight hours. Needless to say there has been some discussion of a visit to a chiropractor when we get back. It was hands down the worst road I’ve ever been on in my life. There was absolutely no sleeping on that trip. We tried hard to keep our sense of humor about the situation, but that can only last for so many hours before the pain gets the better of your attitude. We sped through villages at unbelievable speeds and disrupted any peace they had. We ran over a tiny goat (smaller than a cat) thankfully it was shorter than our bus so it was just knocked over by the wind and shock and we saw it climbing to its feet behind us. By God’s grace no one was killed on that drive.

We’ve received a lot of sobering news recently and things have quickly changed to reveal the truth about many of the people we are partnering with here. The sad truth is that many are motivated by money and ego more than the welfare of the children. We are trying not to allow this kind of thinking or anger at this take over as we strive to give the kids the best we can. We are doing our best to stay encouraged despite a lot of discouraging events. We are also surrounded by some incredibly honest, hopeful and virtuous Ghanaians and westerners who are willing to take a stand for truth no matter what it may cost them. We’re hoping to resolve some issues and move forward with new confidence, motivation and a secure foundation. Please pray.

Henri Nouwen has come through for me again with this insight from “In the Name of Jesus”:
“When members of a community of faith cannot truly know and love their shepherd, shepherding quickly becomes a subtle way of exercising power over others and begins to show authoritarian and dictatorial traits. The world in which we live – a world of efficiency and control – has no models to offer to those who want to be shepherds in the way Jesus was a shepherd. Even the so-called “helping professions” have been so thoroughly secularized that mutuality can only be seen as a weakness and a dangerous form of role confusion. The leadership about which Jesus speaks is of a radically different kind from the leadership offered by the world. It is a servant leadership – to use Robert Greenleaf’s term – in which the leader is a vulnerable servant who needs the people as much as they need their leader.
From this it is clear that a whole new type of leadership is asked for in the church of tomorrow, a leadership that is not modeled on the power games of the world, but on the servant-leader Jesus, who came to give his life for the salvation of many.”

It’s ironic that the hardest part about being here, in Africa, is dealing with the Americans. Really.
I’m not saying we haven’t had a share of cultural challenges and a lot of adjusting to Ghanaian ways. I’ve definitely collapsed more than once based on some differences I couldn’t handle. But the breaking point has been the difficulty communicating and understanding the westerners. There has been a lot of confusion, miscommunication, lack of cultural sensitivity, and questionable motives (and I’m being generous here!) A lot of it has to do with organizations who come here to help but have never spent more than a week in the country and expect to solve its problems by dumping a bunch of money on it. First of all, it seems that the corruption and manipulation is fed by western funds which are carelessly thrown at whoever is the first to latch on. Secondly, the westerners have an agenda of their own, and though it seems to be honorable at first, it can quickly turn into a numbers game or ego trip based on the perceived success of their efforts. Most of their concern is how it is perceived to westerners, and that is very easy to manipulate. For instance, it would not be hard to sensationalize our trip here, to tell of all the wonderful things we’ve done, all the lives we’ve touched, and to make it sound easy, or to make it sound like we are overcoming all the obstacles in our way, or to tell you a sweet story about the kids and make you cry (and these kids could do it in a second, they really are amazing.) I’ll admit, I’m even making up a slide show of our pictures and I’ll probably set it to some cheesy music about making a difference or we are the world or something. So yes, I suppose I am guilty too.
The real danger comes when we start selling something that isn’t real. I want to be honest about the challenges we face here. If we aren’t up front about that then we risk creating a false sense of how easy it is for Us to solve their problems. Even the idea that we can solve their problems is faulty. We want to send our money to change something that we don’t even fully understand. I’m not saying they don’t need the money. They definitely do. It is a big part of the solution… but only if it is put in the right hands, and invested in the programs that are actually benefiting the people here for the long run, not just making for a good photo opportunity or a heartwarming story for Oprah. A lot of the stories we read or see on television are actually creating more problems for the people. It looks wonderful to send a poor child on a Disney vacation, but what kind of shock and dissatisfaction will it give them with their life once they return? What kind of long term damage do we do to a family by teaching them how much wealthier they could be without giving them an opportunity to improve their situation? We need to address the issues of poverty based on their felt needs and their own gifts while emphasizing their personal value despite the size of their bank account. - Even that statement is completely based on a western mindset and we can’t approach Africans that way. We have been here for eight weeks and have just recently made a few relational breakthroughs with people we have been living with this whole time. It has taken this long to build enough trust for them to open up and reveal some deeper issues that they are dealing with. And we certainly don’t have the credibility to make nearly the difference we need to because we haven’t been here long term. A lot of the issues we see here stem from a western belief that we can save Africa. That all they need is a new car, or iphone or a vacation to make them feel good about themselves (okay I’m overdoing it, but you get my point.) We leave a lot of destruction in the wake of our good intentions (or ego stroking) and the destruction comes in a form of disempowering the indigenous leadership, creating a dependency on western provisions and instilling an increased value on possessions and property (which often gets muddled into the idea that people can actually be owned too – sometimes it begins through sponsorship or employment which can turn into bribery and coercion – and then what we are doing can easily be compared to some of our most shameful history in this part of the world. Maybe I am overstating my case, but we have definitely seen evidence of some tactics that draw those parallels.) At the same time we see the good intentions of people and those who are being as careful as possible to be sensitive to cultural differences and to gain understanding of them before stepping in to “fix” the problem. I do believe there is help to be given, there are things that they need here that should be provided to them, we just have to be very careful about how we give, what we give, and where we give it. Most importantly we have to understand the complexity of the issues. I know we will never be able to eliminate all mishaps or do as much good as we originally intended, but we have to keep trying. Giving up on it all together is not the right option either (though it is often very tempting!) I am really thankful for the time we have here to gain as much insight as we can so hopefully we can be a little bit more perceptive of the needs and the approach we should take to addressing them.