Connecting With History

Friday morning, León, Nicaragua. My faithful reader noticed the other day that I haven’t written on this blog in a long time. “Where have you been?” is his question. As I reflected on this question, it struck me that the last few months I’ve spent connecting with history. 

To celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary Peggy and I took a big trip – The Birds and Culture of China. There we saw many astonishing things from China’s distant and not-so-distant past. Near Beijing we walked on the Great Wall – the immensity of it is awe-inspiring. Built a couple thousand years ago, without the benefit of a single piece of motorized machinery, it winds along rugged ridges from hilltop to hilltop more than 5,000 miles, a distance much greater than that from Michigan to Alaska. How did they do that? What was life like for those construction workers? For the soldiers that manned the remote stretches of wall? Did it keep the warring barbarians out?

Near Xian we visited the Terra Cotta Warriors – life-sized warriors, horses, chariots, archers – an entire army of 8 thousand or more, each with a unique face.  They were made of clay a couple thousand years ago and buried with the emperor who first united the warring tribes of China. It was certainly a great and impressive send-off into the next life for him – and I’m guessing his real army was quite relieved to have been substituted for by the terra cotta replacements at the last minute.

What I saw in China, both ancient and modern, gave me the distinct impression that China doesn’t do anything on a small scale. When they undertake a public project, it’s not just big—it’s enormous. One could legitimately ask if China can keep up the great pace of development it is undergoing today. But in response one would have to acknowledge that China has a several thousand year history of progress and grand developments. I had the impression (from high school history?) that in the 19^th and 20^th centuries China was a rather backward nation compared to the western powers. But now I have the impression that China’s seeming backwardness was just a temporary 2 century interlude in more than 20 centuries of significant advances in culture, science and technology.

Of course there were birds to see in China, too.  We saw lots, including some extremely rare birds.  Two species, Crested Ibis and Siberian Crane, until recently thought to be extinct, and another, Jankowski’s Bunting, which may become extinct soon. China has some beautiful forests and nature preserves, but it also has big environmental problems. Industrial and domestic pollution is widespread and habitat loss is severe in places.  China is certainly not unique in this respect. God did tell us to be fruitful and multiply, and he gave us the earth to provide us the things we need to flourish—but we must remember that God never told us to ravage the earth and destroy it.  The world, and everything in it, belongs to God. We should treat all of creation with care and respect as the valuable property of another who has entrusted it to us for but a season. It would be a shame—shame on us—if we continue to wipe out plants, birds, animals, and other creatures that God gave us to enjoy life in abundance.

Three months after China we made a short trip to Peru to visit our son and daughter-in-law who were there for her brief internship. We went straight to the center of ancient Inca civilization: Cusco, Ollantaytambo, and Machu Picchu. At Machu Picchu I was again struck by the immensity and craftsmanship of this ancient city, built high on a mountain to help fend off attacks of wild animals or fierce enemies.  It’s not so hard to imagine why they built the city although it amazes me that they could build it where they did. But why did they then abandon it suddenly near the time of the Spanish conquest and after only 150 years or so of occupation? The city was never conquered—it wasn’t even discovered by outsiders until the early 20^th century—so conquest by Spain is not the answer. At least not directly. Machu Picchu is a place full of mystery.

At Machu Picchu I thought about the designers, engineers, inspectors, and construction foremen who directed construction of the city. How did the designers and engineers communicate the design specifications to the work crew? They had no written language. I’m guessing there were no blueprints or design drawings to follow. Yet when you look closely at the carved stones that comprise the most important buildings (usually temples), they display an intricate structural design that was executed with incredible precision. The walls are not made of simple rectangular blocks of stone, but rather of multi-surfaced complex shapes that fit together like an intricate 3-D puzzle. The joints between the huge stones are so tight you cannot slip a knife blade between the stones (no, I didn’t try that!). And they were all carved by hand without even iron tools for the job. How did they do that? Looking at Machu Picchu made me reassess my own ideas about how organized and capable ancient civilizations, like the Incas, must have been. Surely this was a complex and intelligent society that did simply amazing things with such tools as they themselves had discovered and made.

After a few weeks visiting family in the US (connecting with our family history again), we are now back in our León, Nicaragua home. Here we find that the expected rains of the season are both late and meager. Consequently, it is unseasonably very hot and, more significantly, many small farmers are in or near crisis mode for lack of water. We pray for more rain before it is too late for this season’s crops.

Connecting with history continues to be our central focus here in León. In just five weeks we begin our new mini-careers as professors of Nicaraguan history.  Of course, before you can teach you must study. So we are now studying Nicaraguan history ourselves. Nicaragua doesn’t boast a great center of a powerful ancient civilization, like China or Machu Picchu (and I wonder why). Instead, the recorded history of Nicaragua seems overwhelmed by outsiders—beginning with the Spanish conquest, followed shortly thereafter by 150 years of episode after episode of US involvement and intervention in Nicaragua’s internal affairs. Understandably, today Nicaragua is still trying to find its own way after nearly 500 years of excessive foreign influence—which may not be finished yet.

Well, that’s just a taste of what we are learning. If you want to know more, sign up for the history class. There you would join 8 college and university students in a semester abroad program sponsored by Dordt College in Iowa. The students will be arriving in country in just 2 weeks, so if you are going to join them, you better pack your bag soon.

A Walk Through La Limonada

March 21, 2014.

The Nicaraguan Cohort of Missioners has been working together through the book Geography of Grace.  A central point of the book is that the grace of God pools up—is most evident—in the lowest, most needy places.  Today we and the Cohort visited one of those places.  La Limonada is a barrio, some would say slum, in Guatemala City.  At the outskirts of La Limonada we were met by Tita who would spend the next few hours walking through the barrio with us. 

Once a wooded ravine, green and natural, it is now gray and dense with the poorest of the poor of the city.  Over a period of many years the ravine was occupied by squatters seeking refuge from war and displacement, and now it is a labyrinth of simple cinder block homes, built wherever one could find space.  The shape of the home is dictated by the shapes of the homes that surround it.  Now the only open spaces in the ravine are the pathways that wind in labyrinth fashion among the tiny homes.  Often so narrow that a motorcycle and a pedestrian cannot pass side by side, the “streets” twist and turn erratically, passing by the doors of homes and workshops every few meters, ultimately ending at the front door of the last home on the street. 

La Limonada is home to thousands of people.  It is also home to much crime and violence.  As we walked by one tiny church, Tita pointed out the bullet holes from some distant gang fight, still evident in the front wall.  We visited and prayed at one home where a young man lay in his bed, still suffering from a bullet wound he received 5 years ago. Violence, like the shortage of physical resources, is a fact of life in La Limonada.

But more about Tita, our guide for the day.  She is a Guatemalan with a heart as big as all of La Limonada.  She focuses not on what La Limonada doesn’t have, but rather on what La Limonada does have.  Walking with her in La Limonada is like walking with a rock star, only better.  Children ran up to her on the street shouting “Mama Tita! Mama Tita!”  She had a hug for everyone, and even “cool” teenagers let down their guard for a moment to give her a hug.  People would greet her in their doorways, and within moments Tita would be inside their homes, encouraging them and praying with them and for their problems.  We walked into homes where residents were making shopping bags or teaching others to make beautiful slippers, all to sell in the market.  It is so obvious that she loves the people of La Limonada, and they love her in return. 

A movie was made in 2010 about the work of Tita and others in La Limomada.  It is called Reparando and available for rent or purchase here: http://www.amazon.com/Reparando-Scott-Owen-Moore/dp/B00EWGYL8A.  Walking through the barrio today, the people we once saw only in the movie came became very real to us.  We had our picture taken with a smiling Guis, the once solitary man whose life, through the love of Tita and others, has undergone profound changes.  We stood and prayed in his room with Vitalino, the old bed-ridden man, cared for by his neighbors for 7 years now, whose birthday party was shown in the film.  It was humbling to walk and pray side-by-side with those who have poured out so much love into La Limonada.  Today we saw that the grace of God does indeed pool up in the lowest places, bringing change and hope to what was once considered hopeless and unchangeable.  

Travels of a T-Shirt

We north Americans seem to have a thing about T-shirts.  Most of us have several, some of us have dozens.  And they aren’t just white undershirts—they make statements!  Over time you can learn a lot about a guy just by noticing what his T-shirts say. 

But who would have thought the actual life history of a T-shirt would be so interesting?  I just finished reading a book that my son gave me for Christmas:  Travels of a T-Shirt in the Global Economy: An Economist Examines the Markets, Power and Politics of the World Trade by Pietra Rivoli.  I loved this book.  By examining in detail the story of the humble cotton T-shirt, this book told me everything I didn’t know about the global economy—and I really didn’t know much, it turns out.  I learned about cotton seeds and ginning, about slavery, about Texas cotton research, about price supports, about the global race to produce the cheapest cotton shirts in the world, about world markets, and about the incredibly, arcanely, highly regulated “free trade” import of T-shirts into the U.S. from China, Burma, Nicaragua and just about anywhere.  I learned that those imported T-shirts are made from the same raw cotton that had been exported from the U.S. just months before. 

This book is about the process of making money in the cotton industry, but it’s also about poverty.  It’s about incredibly hard work for long hours in underpaid sweatshops, but work that also provides a path off the rural farms and out of desperate poverty for thousands upon thousands around the world and over the centuries.  To think of the sweatshop as a gateway out of poverty was a mind-bender.

Before I started reading the book I told my son I hoped it would include a discussion about the sales of used T-shirts in Africa, a phenomenon I personally witnessed in Tanzania. I was not disappointed. To me this was perhaps the most interesting part of the T-shirts’ travels—how barely used T-shirts make it from suburban closets to the open air markets of Africa and all the steps in between. When I was in Tanzania, I thought “what a shame, the sale of used clothing from America has driven all the textile makers of Tanzania (if not all of Africa) out of business.” That’s what I thought then. But after reading the book it’s not so clear. There are many factors that “drove” the textile business out of Tanzania, not the least of which would certainly include (to mention just a few reasons) the lack of cheap and reliable electricity, corruption at all levels, and, very significantly, U.S. trade laws and policies governing the import of cotton clothing. Did you know that as recently as 5 or 10 years ago there were regulations about where the cotton came from that was sewn into the pockets of men’s pants imported into the U.S.? But the import of really cheap used U.S. (and European) clothing has had a positive effect in Africa—villagers who once had nothing but rags to wear (because local suppliers couldn't meet demand at low prices) can now wear colorful, quality clothing bought at very inexpensive prices. And while there aren't many cotton growers or textile factory workers left in Tanzania, there is a whole new crowd of entrepreneur merchants in the clothing business.

Travels of a T-Shirt is not an economics tome, nor does it “preach” about the evils of the T-shirt industry.  It just tries to tell the story and let the reader draw his or her own conclusions about global trade.  It will inform, and it will make you think.  It is eminently readable.  If you want to learn a lot about globalization and its effect on poverty, read Travels of a T-Shirt.  

Dengue Fever

7 November 2013.  Nicaragua, including our own city of Leon, is currently suffering from an alarmingly high incidence of dengue fever.  This mosquito-born illness is very serious, so mosquito control is a high priority in Leon these days.  Here is a picture of our street taken just as the insecticide fogger was finishing the treatment of our house.  The fog coming out of our front door was so intense it stopped traffic in the street!

Casas de Justicia

The World Renew evaluation team visited the CCDH (Christian Center for Human Rights) local office in Matagalpa.  Each of the CCDH local offices is called a Casa de Justicia (House of Justice).

I stopped to take this picture of the sign at the office door and noticed that a final "A" is missing from the end of Matagalpa.  "There wasn't money in the budget for another A" they explained.

Then we visited the Casa de Justicia in La Dalia.

Followed by a visit to remote El Cua, where the CCDH office was jammed with clients and justice promoters. 

And finally we visited all the Casas de Justicia (there are 3!) in Jinotega.  These women are the lawyers who do all the legal work and guide the non-lawyer promoters. 

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Volcan Masaya -- Be Careful Where You Park!

On October 27 we visited Volcan Masaya with Sue Carlson and Luke Theule.  They had come to Nicaragua to assist in World Renew's triennial evaluation of CCDH (Christian Center for Human Rights).

Volcan Masaya is very active.

It is constantly emitting steam and sulfurous gases.

You can drive right up to it in your car.

Just a couple years ago it burped out some boulders that crushed a car in the parking lot, so we can no longer park at the caldera's edge.  Instead we have to back in about 50 meters away so we can be ready for a fast get away.

I was sad to have to return the hard hat at the end of the visit

Caught Between a Cow and .... WATCH OUT!

3 October 2013. On Monday Peggy and I were driving back from Managua to León after a day in classes with the Dordt College students.  Two Nicaraguan passengers were in the car with us. We were going up a long and winding grade on the two-lane road.  Ahead was a tractor trailer rig going about 65 kph, slow but not crawling as is often the case.  Behind us was another tractor trailer rig who clearly wanted to go much faster than 65.  I was sure of that because I could read his Honduran license plate in my rear view mirror.

As our tight little pack came around a blind curve I instantly knew there was going to be trouble.  A cow was walking into our lane from the right shoulder.  The truck ahead of me braked quickly and pulled to the left.  I braked and looked in my rear view mirror.  Clearly I was not going to hit the cow, but it wasn’t clear that the massive truck behind wouldn’t roll right over us.  In the mirror I saw billows of smoke coming up from his tractor tires as he braked really hard and veered to the left.  WE were the biggest obstacle in his path.  I saw an opening -- I accelerated and jerked to the right, escaping onto the shoulder.  Thank God there was a safe shoulder right there, because more often than not there isn’t on these roads.  The truck in front continued on.  We zipped around the cow and back onto the road without even stopping.  The tractor trailer behind us had the most difficulty of all recovering from his evasive maneuver and still dealing with the cow who continued in his direction.  Well, we all survived – even the cow. As soon as the road and traffic allowed I passed the slow truck ahead of us and sped on, hoping to never see that Honduran plate in the rear-view again.

Gracias a Dios.