There is just no way to get around it--despair is a thick sap that creeps over a people forgotten. If we came here to listen, we´ve got to hear--no hay ningun esparanza. There isn´t a single hope. You know, we like happy endings, or at least bittersweet ones. But the happy ending that colonos (colonists from other regions of Ecuador who ´pioneered´ into the rainforest when the oil companies started building roads) look for, and I am basically quoting, is death.

La companía has left us with nothing but illness and destruction. We just wait around to die.

The indigenous nations have more than their fair share of losses already suffered, and challenges for the future. But there is a strength there, I think, from the unity of culture and heritage, of living invested in community, that has already allowed many of them to organize and gain international attention.

The colonos know no such source of strength, and although the worst of the pollution happened some 25 years ago, they live daily with the aftermath, a slow death as the soil wears out, the chemicals seep into skin and soul. There is something just very tired about it all, the final scene in the Giving Tree with the boy who is an old man sitting on the tree-now-stump. Except the story is not about a tree´s love for a boy--but rather a boy´s careless abuse of a tree. What we do with this story doesn´t change that it is already not a happy ending for too many people who´ve lost teen-aged daughters to leukemia, too many felled palms and kapoks, too many rivers blackened by pipes left to break, too many macaws and tapirs and spider monkeys and moths and frogs hunted or left homeless.

And where is the power that transforms? Where is the connection to the infinate that sustains? What does my God have to say about this tragedy? I can´t change the ending to make it go down easier, not today anyway--and I´m very sorry.

At this point in my life, I go about things in a very individualistic fashion. I come across new things everyday, experiences that I attempt to ride through, getting jarred by turbulance along the way. This study away course I feel hasn't done more than change my perception as it changes everyday, but I do feel It has changed it in a much more descisive way. Instead trudging about Salem, Oregon or the PLU campus, I'm in China where my surroundings are as confusing as a labyrinth. Instead of talking and rambling with familier compadres (sp?) I'm traveling with people I've never talked to in a country where the most any of us can say is "hello" and "thank you". Instead of familier concepts that only people living in America grew up with, we're now sloughing our way through a culture so vastly different I might as well be in a science fiction novel. It's hard to make sense of any of it on the individual level and it confuses the world perception one has of a foriegn nation when you're actually there and not just gazing blankly at the television screen. My thoughts on society here are mixed, but just as any other month, my individual perception of myself in relation to it has changed. The concepts that have bled through to me, seeping out of the morass of confusion are thanks to the philosophies the nation has built on for more than 3000 years and the people traveling with me that I've known for less than 3 weeks. Everyday, human beings go through the crap of living, the thoughts that race through their heads in relation to other human beings, what they should and shouldn't do. This gossipng, bickering, and overall confusion in being human I have found, doesn't matter. It just doesn't. There is no other way to put it. Ancient Chinese philosophy is based on this, that the anxiety of life is inconsequential. I need to get offline now, my connection will soon end (only paid for an hour). But that is the base of it, and the strength I have found here.

The values of the SA culture are quite diverse to say the least. On January 18, 2007 this group got the privelege to see one side of African culture that is all too often miscontrued and abused throughout international media. In short, our view on the global community has changed.
All 22 members of our Peace promoting group stayed in the Cape Town, Black township of Khayelitsha. Collectively 1.3 million people are stuffed in land between highways that is probably 1/8 the size of Parkland and they could not be happier. These are the shacks you see on CNN and in movies like Tsotsi(which is a gross depiction), made of tin and siding. It is a shanty suburb.
The kids crowded around our Mercedes tour bus that barely fit down the dirt/tar roads. We finally made our way to Vicky's B&B. This establishment has been running for 9 years in the heart of section C. The typical ignorant white tour bus never stops...you remain air conditioned. You simply listen as some 'knowlegable' tour guide describes 'what it is really like to live there.' WE were not that typical tour bus. As we stepped our of the bus from the mid day sun was about 37C, yea hot. We were immediately escorted into Vicky's, the smallest hotel in SA...maybe the World!
She began by asking us if we were all prepared to sleep on her tiled patch-worked floor in front of her 50 inch plasma tv...(wow the cultural values and personal interests are different). She also asked if any one was opposed to eating chicken feet. We all sucked it up and nodded politely. She immediately began to laugh as she told us she was kidding and that she had already begun preparing homestyle fried chicken and fried rice (consequently one of the best meals of the trip).
She said that we had a few hours til dinner and could go outside play with the kids or purchase any of the crafts the local community had set up outside her house. We found incredible paintings by townships locals, wood carvings and jewelry. Then the children began to multiple. Before we knew it, each of us had at least three children for every Lute. They were all about 4 -10 years old and had the most glorious smiles. Many were in school and had fantastic and curteous English. Their native tongue, Xhosa (with a click) was interchanged and we picked up a little as we went. We gave piggy-backs, did head and shoulders and plenty high-fiving. They had jsut had their first morning of school (considering they just finished summer break) and were eager to discuss their classes. Although their shcool system, medical facilities and housing are completely inadequate...especially of a government adovcating unity following apartheid. Anyhow, those are completely different topics.
These children played and chatted and displayed pride, love and utter joy that I have NEVER seen. In short, they were a powerful reminder as was the stay in a "poor area" taht we are all people. SAs are spot on with ubuntu. THe experience was so incredible because it was so normal. The kids and people of this community endure the same emotions and feelings we all do. In nine years of operation Vicky has had 8 South Africans stay with her. In other words, if they wont change their minds readily then we ought to. YOu have not seen AFrica until you immerse your self. That immersion cannot come as a result of a bus tour either. Our experience with the kids staying over night at random friends of Vicky's (so we could have beds) was a testament to the compassion of the human spirit. We can be incredible people when we share with other people. It takes me back to the story in the Bible when the poor widow gives the only coin she has as an offering to God. That is what these people did. It should be tears to your eyes. That is love, that is compassion.
IN future trips taht I will undoubtedly make, I know I will return to the townships but I challenge all of you to take that plunge and go out of your comfort zone. YOu may just be surprised by the way that others can move you and the love that people are willing to share if you are willing to listen.

After meeting with Charles Villavicencio of the Institute for Justice and Reconciliation I was quite moved by his description of the southern African principle ubuntu. This life-guiding moral, although not easily translated to western thought (especially that of individualistic US), says that 'people find their being through other people.' As such, our interconnection with others is present when we are our most happy and most sad. Charles discussion of this topic came about when he described to us the state of SA following apartheid. Although many oppressed black, coloured and Indian South Africans would have surely loved to have retributive justice they leaders like Mandela and Tutu knew that such an action would not promote unity and furthermore would not heal the wounds of the SA people.
They enunciated the cultural ideal of ubuntu and reminded the people just how their lives would be improved if they could forgive and improve the lives of those who had tormented them.
This idea is huge. It is inconceivable that you would simply stand up straight and apologize to your torturer. Nonetheless, I have learned something from the South African's I have met so far, they only want but one thing: someone to talk with. This idea of interconnection urges them to share stories and share their life with you and thus reinforcing the idea that me some white kid from the Pacific Northwest means something in their life! Moreover, it is an option for peaceful interaction which many pursue first and foremost. If they are given an audience, one listener, they are in no hurry to pick up a gun. Whether it was Charles, the ex-political prisoner we met on Robben Island or our cook Patsy, they all love that we are here to talk with them, to learn.
To properly answer this question four I would say that my worldview has changed in this week because halfway around the world and I realize at the spiritual and emotional level that we are a global community. I can share in the passion, sadness and triumph with people in Parkland and people in Cape Town. As such, it is a great opportunity to realize how similar we are as people at the core and go in peace in our humanity.

We are off from Soetwater today. We have nearly completed our tour of the Western Cape. We are touring the cape flats and Kyalitcha today. It is an area of roughly 650,000 squatter homes, so which look like the tin shacks many Americans picture to be littered throughout all of Africa. We will be staying in one of them tonight and undoubtedly have the experience of a lifetime. Following that, on Friday we head up to an organic olive farm and stay they for a few days. It will be Sat. or Sun. before we are in Grahamstown and have internet again. Anyhow, many people have started to blog on our trip now which is nice and I hope you are all enjoying our updates.

Mom, Dad, Whit and Ingrid I hope you are all well and know that I love you all.

Kyle

We have only been in South Africa for four days but it seems like ages since we left home. I think all of us came to Cape Town expecting something completely different from what we have found. Right now we are all at the mall at an internet cafe writing e-mails. I am amazed at how similar South Africa is to what I would expect anywhere else in the world. I went into this expecting a different universe and here I am in a shopping mall.

I think once we get into the townships and up the wild coast things will change. I had heard the South Africa would be a land of contrasts, with half the population in poverty and half with riches but I wasn't expecting to feel that the wealthy popultion here in essence lives just like me. I am almost disappointed to be comfortable here. I am looking forward to experiencing the other side of the story. The people who are suffering the aftermath of apartheid are out there, but when you are a white person in Cape Town, the poor are not always obvious. It is easy to see how someone could ignore the problem if they didn't want to see it. I'm off for now, talk to you soon.

Africa! What do you think? I bet you don't think of what I'm seeing here right now in this super fancy mall on the Cape Town waterfront! I almost guarantee you don't. Granted, there are some parts that I had expected. Mostly the polarization between rich and poor we had been taught about before leaving. What I didn't expect was how extreme it is. And how practically on top of each other they are. Imagine thousands of people crammed in on top of each other in extreme poverty, and literally across the road is a much bigger area reserved for five buffalo. Amazing! (and not in the good way).
Everything here is fantastic. I have fallen in love with this place. There is such a sense of optimism and hope for the future. There is this sense that everything is new and you can change this country for the better. I'd like to think I could bring some of that optimism home with me. That sense of hope permeates everything here, from the environmental activism to the Congolesse church we attended this morning (my first bilingual service I might add). This place has already given to me the need to actually do something, rather than just being. I need to do something tangible with that 'wild and precious life' PLU has been trying to teach us about. I think I finally get it. There really is only one life each and it is therefore wild and precious and we must therefore do what we can to make it a good life, and a good life for others.
Our group is lined up for the internet so I must leave you now, but know that in four days this place has made me really think about my life and the direction it has headed, and me seriously reconsider things. Know that this place is fantastic and more than I ever expected. I cannot confer to you the natural beauty of this place in words alone, but know that is truly amazing and nothing like anything I've ever seen before!
Peace!

After spending a week now in China I have learned alot about how simple life can be. At home we are so used to the many amenities that we have such as toliet paper, clean running water, clean air,clean public restrooms etc. Here in China has not been the case. Often times there is no toliet paper in the bathrooms and rarely are they very clean. To us westerners this is a big deal, but to the Chinese this is daily life. I never realized just how many people live in China. and because of so many people there are so many jobs to be done such as having people sweep the streets with huge brooms rather than using a street sweeper. Being here has certainly taught me to not take things for granted because in other parts of the world they are not so lucky. I have always thought about it, but there is not better wake up call than actually being in a developing country and experiencing it first hand. Well we are off to Kangding and Tagong... small Tibetan villages in the mountains of China... I am guessing that this will be yet another wake up call and insight to the lives of people living so simply. We are all so very excited!!!

My world view has changed significantly since I have been here. The theme of our course is the Arts of China. We have seen an artist paint with waterbased colors, calligraphy, a concert of ancient Chinese instruments, a Chinese opera, visited an art institute, wandered the halls of the Chengdu Art Museum, visited a thousand year old tomb to see the elaborate carvings and art work. We have been really busy here, but there is much to take in. The cultural history, pride and simplicity of the China made me realize that I take for granted my own. There are so many forms of art that I had never realized existed. Lullabys, writings, childhood poems, pictures, everything is considered art. The question of the class is where the old traditions still fit into the modern world. As China becomes more Westernized, some of its cultural identity is lost. What to preserve and teach future generations is a critical question. I never had realized the importance of my grandmothers polish lullabys and songs. This class has taught me that the simple things are what is important.

My view of the world changes daily. Last nite we had Chengdu native did a puppet show and a shadow show for us. This is becoming a lost art due to the internet and televison. Seeing how people here in Chengdu have entertained themselves for centuries if not thousands of years brings me closer to these people. We had some Tibetan youth (14-16) in attendance also for this show. Afterwords they went forward and sang and danced for us. It was truly amazing to see the open and friendy way they showed how they entertain each other as they live their nomadic lives. I feel like I'm in a time warp seeing and being a part of things I never would have imagined just a year ago! Every day here is similarly amazing but this one was special.
We have see musical and acting performed here by students. Some of their activities are similar to what we expect in the US like acting classes but some are not like music classes. Musical instrument here are different and they were beautiful and beautifully played.
My view of the world has changed showing me that it is truly a small world. It is also an interesting one worthy of much exploration. It is very exciting and this trip and class are far from over. I expect we will see and do many more things to write about and I look forward to it.

What a strange day.

In twenty minutes we dropped some 8,000 feet, from Quito to Lago Agrio, the dingy oil town in the northern Oriente. We are in the selva, the jungle. And here is this crawling town, built on oil and narcotrafficking and the crowd that follows. Not far from the Colombian border, we are staying in at night (the one night we are here) and going no where alone.

From here on out, we will be accompanied by a Quichua man named José. He is an activist, sings a lot, and is used to speaking Spanish to non-native speakers, which is extremely helpful. His father is a shaman, and I am anxious to talk to him more about that, as my particular interest in this research concerns how religious and spiritual practices and roles have changed since the arrival of oil, and how the presence of Christianity has affected such.

And yes, the oil. We are in the area previously developed by Texaco, who have a rather abysmal track record in Ecuador. They claimed to have cleaned everything up--spillage estimated to be around 30 times more than the Exxon Valdez-- although there is currently a class-action lawsuit--the first of its kind-- against them by 30,000 residents of the Oriente for the environmental and health damage suffered by contamination.

We went to one of these sites that had been ´cleaned´--and watched as our guide Robertson dug a stick in the ground and pulled it out black and shiny with oil residue. Not surprising.

The main part of these research, however, has to do with the people who are living here now--and that means interviews. We met with a family of colonists, people who had lived in another part of Ecuador and moved out to the selva when the roads were built. It seemed like a woman, her husband, mother, daughter and son-in-law, and grand daughter. Six, in a tiny house of boards, with an abundance of chickens, an oil well just 50 meters over the hill and pipes running through the front yard. Instead of water, this family has crude. Our first interview, and we all agree that it was incredibly uncomfortable. We moved through the questions quickly, and there was a tiredness to the responses as if we were the latest in a long line of foriegners come to extract one MORE thing from these strained bodies. And this, I think, will be the challenge siempre--how, I wonder, can one possibly mitigate the power dynamic that obviously exists when three white estadounidenses come around wanting something?

And it challenges my thoughts on what our role actually is, as foriegners, in a situation like this. What is our obligation given our history here? What is the best use of our privilege now? How does one wiegh one's impact on a place versus the good one hopes to accomplish through such impact? And how can we be sensitive to that which and those whom we impact? These questions are especially interesting to me as I trace the presence of Christianity in this region as well. From what I´ve read, it has too many uncanny ties to oil for me to think that the net impact has been positive--but I have yet to hear anyone´s story on this topic, and shall wait and see. As a Christian, I am unsure of where that places me. It is a question I think about a lot, and not limited to the borders of Ecuador--Cortez was an exemplary bearer of the cross AND the sword.

Goodness, so much for only one day. But a long blog, becuase I'm unsure when we'll have internet next. I'm rather shocked we have it now--although I shouldn't have been surprised. Apparently the only other people staying in this hotel--probably in most of the hotels in this town--are ´petroleros´--people in the oil business.

The night is thick and damp and thrumming with the sound of air conditioners and traffic. I thank God I am here--with these fanastic travel companions, Chuck and Rachel and José. I´m thankful for clean bottled water provided by Coca-cola. I´m thankful for even my limited Spanish and the clear Ecuadorian accent. I´m thankful for the freedom of movement, as an estadounidense, as a woman. I´m thankful that there are not standing pipes in my neighborhood that are constantly burning off the natural gas waste of the oil wells. And I pray that all might know the same (except the Coke part--don´t get me going on pinche bottled water, ay carumba).

Cariño a todos y buenas noches.