Avoiding Quiet Desperation...

The Beauty of Espresso

2009-06-01T04:43:00.001-07:00

Well--I have a confession to make. I have fallen in love...again. No need to doubt my fidelity however, this love is not of the romantic variety. This love is of the frothy, strong, and exhilarating variety. This love is for a little drink called espresso. Why did no one ever show me espresso before? Of course I had heard of espresso, but this always conjured up images of preppy rich kids and snooty businessmen going to expensive coffee shops to feel like there life was worth something. My first day in Braila everything changed.

We were sitting on the porch of an old Communist apartment bloc sharing the Gospel with some younger guys smoking cigarettes. A few minutes into our conversation, one of them excused himself to run an errand of some kind. He soon returned with a small cup filled with some kind of coffee drink. The look (and smell) of this beverage captured my attention. Later on that day I spotted a sign for espressos and that was all she wrote.

A beautiful thing about Romania is that virtually every convenience store and street stand sells a small cup of this big flavor for just 1 lei (33 cents). That's right, just 33 cents! My favorite place to buy them was a convenience store behind the church. Not only did they give you more for your money, but the flavor was so strong it literally gave me a buzz every time I drank a cup...which was multiple times a day. Anyway, I realize this was a semi-pointless post, but I just wanted to share my fascination/appreciation for this Romanian delicacy. I'm told we have them in America too, but I don't think I will feel comfortable paying more than 50 cents or so.

Notice the cup in my hand.

Group of college students from the church.

Jesus would have drank espresso.

The Church on the Street

2009-05-24T07:02:00.001-07:00

Our team has been going at it strong for about the last two weeks. Troy (the missionary here) divided the city up into seventeen zones and we have been prayer-walking and sharing Christ through literally every section of this city. We have walked over 40 hours and have been able to share the gospel with hundreds of people who had never heard the biblical good news of Jesus Christ. Yeah...we are tired. God has been teaching me a lot throughout this trip--teaching me of humility, submission, service, joy, and the comfort of his Holy Spirit. I want to share one particular instance that happened last night that sticks out:

Last night we made our way to the town phaleza (easily the most happening spot in Braila) to have some conversations. After speaking with a couple old ladies I spotted a younger guy sitting on a bench, taking a break from roller-blading. We went over to talk to him and ended up sitting and sharing the Gospel with him. I went verse to verse having him read it and then explain what it meant to him. I was enjoying myself and I liked this guy because he seemed genuinely interested in what the Scriptures had to say. I pointed him to John 3:3 (You must be born again) and asked his opinion. He read it once. Then twice. After having ample time to contemplate this deep text, he looked up at us, clearly confused, and asked, "How can you be born again?" Before any of us could try to answer this, he basically quoted Nicodemus's response to Jesus beginning in verse 4: "How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?"

I was immediately struck by the absurdity of this text. What does it even mean to be born again? Of course I knew all the right "churchy" answers to this question, but for the first time I was gripped by the revolutionary, mysterious, and downright weird ideas of the Gospel we have become so bored with. The meaning and shock value of this passage has been lost in the familiarity and cheesiness of our Christian bubble. To an American non-believer, "born again" would conjure up images of televangelist scandals, intolerance, irrelevance, and political aspirations. This Romanian man, however, was struck by the deeper spiritual implications of this text. His genuine questions enabled us to share with him the beautiful Gospel message.

What if Biblical interpretation was not only relegated to quiet studies and ivory towers? What if theology meant doing something rather than just knowing something? I am convinced that discipleship must include praxis as well as knowledge. Latin American theologians have beaten us to this principle and developed the idea of a well-balanced praxiology. As I sat there sharing Christ with Leonardo, the text I was using became real to me. This passage of scripture was no longer a intangible spiritual idea, but rather it was a description of our work ministering on the streets of this city. Proper Biblical interpretation must occur in the context of mission. I use study helps and commentaries more than most, but there is something about doing the Bible rather than just reading it. There is an incredible power when the Church is released into their streets rather than held captive in their sanctuaries.

Our Streets

Daily group for ministry. We respond to both "The Dream Team," and "The All-Star Team."

Justin (22 year old missionary from Atlanta) speaking to a local Romanian leader named Bogdan. Transformed from an abusive drunk, Bodgan is now one of the strongest leaders in the mafia-ridden valley planting churches and raising leaders.

The Galațsi Plan

2009-05-15T04:57:00.000-07:00

We have been in Braila, Romania (our final destination) for about a week now and I finally have enough time to write and share what we have been able to be a part of. We are working with a missionary named Troy, a 22 year old intern named Justin, and some of the local Christian Romanian leaders.

Our team has been blessed to join these missionaries in literally breaking ground for work in this city. Braila is a town of about 300,000 in the southeast corner of Romania not far from the Moldova border. This town has many ties with the mafia and is known as one of the most dangerous cities in all of Romania (sorry Mom)! Troy has designed a very intricate plan that he has implented in another nearby city known simply as "The Galatsi Plan." Much like in American, the traditional church structure and mindset is doing almost nothing to pentrate the overwhelming lostness in this area. Most of the local Romanian Baptist churches are very legalistic and will not leave the safety of their nice buildings to share the Gospel. The Galațsi Plan is designed to confront this type of dying Evangelicalism with a living, communal, New Testament cell church movement.

The different phases of this plan look something like this:

street evangelism--in home Bible Studies--Cell churches (in homes)--leadership training

If you know me, you know that I very quickly caught on with this revolutionary type of evangelism and church planting. When the Church moves out of exclusive buildings full of bored spectators and back into the home and streets, we will certainly see an awesome move of the Holy Spirit!

Anyway, please pray for our team as we prayer walk this city and make contacts for the future Church God will raise in this city. Also, check out Troy's blog which will have updates and pictures from this project: www.seekandsave1.blogspot.com
In Christ, Matthew

P.S. If you are reading this posts and praying for our team please leave a comment so I can see who all is keeping up!

I Forgot

2009-05-12T13:09:00.000-07:00

I was going to put these pictures on the last post...but I forgot. So without any further adieu, here they are!

Night Church where I heard the man pray

The Church we worshiped at in the morning

Classic Horse and Buggey

Gamaliel Was Right

2009-05-12T05:15:00.000-07:00

I have been in Romania for about 5 days now and we have seen some amazing things. Romania is unlike anywhere I have ever been before...it is a unique mix of European, Latin, and Slavic. The language is strangely familiar yet mysteriously foreign. The Latin base of the language has enabled me to pick up on a few words and phrases.

Many of the elements of modern Romania seem to be a reaction to the intense Soviet rule present for so many years. As a part of the Soviet Union, Romania was subject to harsh government rule and persecution. This persecution was especially focused on the eradication of religion, intellectual communities, or any other perceived threat to the government's totalitarian rule. In 1989, Romanian erupted in riots and protests that eventually spread to other nations resulting in the fall of the great Soviet Union. This brand of violent communism existed in Romania from roughly 1945 to 1989. During this time, all churches were banned and Christianity was made illegal. By forcing the Christians to conform, many thought that the faith would soon disappear within Romanian borders.

On Sunday I had the privilege of worshiping along my Romanian brothers and sisters. I am always deeply touched by experiencing worship in another language and culture. By hearing the saints cry out to Christ in an entirely different tongue, I am reminded of how unimportant I am. God is not American. The Holy Spirit is not restricted to North America. I am a part of something bigger...something better. The missionaries here have been speaking of the importance of "kingdom thinking." Rather than thinking of Americans, Baptists, or any other group, we must think about the overarching KINGDOM that God is building in the hearts of men and women throughout the globe. Nations will fall, churches will divide, but the kingdom of God is the only thing that will last for eternity.

In both church services we attended on Sunday there was a special time of "free prayer" for the entire congregation. This time was free for anyone in the congregation to pray aloud while the rest of the believers would prayerfully agree with shouts of "Amin!" In the night service I was struck by the beauty of one certain prayer. A few rows to my right sat an old man. This man looked weathered, experienced, and tired from a full and hard life. His age told me that this man lived through World War 2, the Communist regime, the Revolution, and the advent of the information age and internet. Slightly hunchbacked, this man slowly stood and began praying with an energy uncharacteristic on his age. I mean PRAYING. I listened to his cries ascending towards heaven in an unknown tongue. His face wrinkled with passion and I realized I didn't need to know what he was saying. Raising his voice, the congregation joined in with prayers of their own and cries to God. As this precious saint began to weep, I was tackled by the beauty of this moment. The goal of many secularists and politicians has been to stamp out Christianity. The aggressive athiests of our days theorize that through greater learning and intellectual stimulation Christianity will become as irrelevant as the Greek and Roman myths and deties. As I was sitting in that small Romanian congregation, it hit me that this line of thinking was not new. In Acts, a wise rabbi by the name of Gamaliel offered this advice concerning the new radical faith of the apostles:

"Men of Israel, take care what you are about to do with these men. For before these days Theudas rose up, claiming to be somebody, and a number of men, about four hundred, joined him. He was killed, and all who followed him were dispersed and came to nothing. After him Judas the Galilean rose up in the days of the census and drew away some of the people after him. He too perished and all who followed were scattered. So in the present case I tell you, keep away from these man and let them alone; for if this plan or this undertaking is of man, it will fail; but if it is of God you will not be able to overthrow them. You might even be found opposing God!" (Acts 5:35-39)

Probably born right before the Communists took over Romanian, this elderly man had known Christianity as illegal for most of his adult life. Rather than embracing secularism as expected, this man was a part of a large underground movement of faith that outlasted the regime that targeted them. Watching this man pray I knew that his faith was real. This man had tasted persecution but had persevered. Our faith began as a small radical movement consisting mainly of poor Jewish fisherman. Throughout the millennium we have seen this small movement shake the world to it's very core. Christianity spread to three continents in 100 years. About two centuries later, this faith had defeated the strongest empire on the face of the earth and became the official religion of Rome. The Church can and will persevere. So fear not for the Church brethren. Fear not impending persecution. Fear not irrelevance. Fear not governments. Fear not the recession.

Throughout the entire world there exists pockets of dedicated believers enduring the kind of persecution that ripped through Romania. One day, when we are able to travel freely through places like Saudia Arabia and North Korean, we will no doubt be encouraged and changed by the fierce prayers of saints stronger than us. Saints that persisted through it all. Saints like this man.

Romania!

2009-05-10T12:55:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I arrived in Romania for a 3 week practicum trip. My major (intercultural studies) requires an overseas component to apply the missiological knowledge we are gaining. This year, it was decided that we would go to Romania to work in Cluj Napoca and Bucharest doing university ministry, working with village churches, and helping missionaries make strategize for future outreach programs. We flew from NYC to Budapest, Hungary. From Budapest we took a 7 hour bus ride to the northern Romanian city of Cluj Napoca. I will be writing and reflecting throughout my trip here...so...stay tuned!

Matthew

Deviant Art

2009-04-27T08:31:00.000-07:00

I know I have shared some of my poetry on this site before, but now I am unveiling a new central location with a lot of my poetry--both old and new. I invite all comments and criticism.

laselvanegra.deviantart.com

Matthew

I miss 中国 (China)

2009-01-30T08:06:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know I said I wouldn't write anymore about China. I know I said that I was moving on in my blog to write about more current things in my life... well I lied. Yes, that was the original intention, but for some reason I cannot get China off of my mind! So consider this a post in honor of Chinese New Year this week.

Here is a short list of the things I miss most about China:

My friends (The Chinese and American friends that walked this journey with me)
The food (Going from basically the culinary capital of civilization to NGU caf food has plummeted my taste buds into clinical depression)
Walking (There is a certain beauty and practicality in being able to walk to anything you need. America's suburbia is definitely stressing me out)
Adventure (In China every day was adventurous, unpredictable, and full of new experiences)
Tea (Dance Tea-- nuff said)
Speaking Chinese (Struggling through this incredibly difficult language filled me wonder and a much needed dose of humility)
Community
Chinese Art
Being a Minority
Catching/Riding Buses
Pirated DVD Stores
Motorcycles ( I miss the crazy and dangerous feel you get when you ride a motorcycle taxi...)
Old Chinese Men (My friend Park and I agreed that these are by far the COOLEST old people in the whole world)
Playing Games (Ping Pong, Mahjong, and Dou Di Zhu)
History
Reading the China Daily (It's surprisingly refreshing to get world news from a Non-Western perspective)
Chinese Barbecue (Meat on a Stick!)
Not being in America
Being in China.

Just A Reminder

2009-01-06T20:42:00.000-08:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, children of all ages...

I just wanted to drop a line and tell you that although I am done with my China writing/reflecting, I will continue to write about life/Christ/politics/philosophy/the church/travel and whatever comes to my mind RIGHT HERE.

So basically what I'm trying to say is... "Thank you, come again."

Matthew

Time To Say 再见...

2009-01-05T14:09:00.001-08:00

The lights of the KTV parlor lit up the dark Xiamen night with an unusual, clean, almost mesmerizing brightness. This hub of nocturnal activity drew in the night crowds for eating, drinking, fellowship, and bad karaoke singing. On this particular night I found myself here with a group of friends--mostly Chinese students with a few Americans from our group. Walking into the building we were immediately met by shouts of Huan ying guan ning (welcome) by the smiling, uniformed girls who are paid to nothing but that. This pleasant greeting is both a reminder of the incredible hospitality of China, and of the rampant over employment encouraged and enforced by the local governments. We are led to our private room that will serve as the setting for the rest of the night's fun. Some of us choose our places in the comfortable couches lining the walls, while others rush over to the computer to begin filling our singing playlist with Chinese love songs and a random assortment of whatever English stuff we can find--let's just say we got used to singing Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears!

About an hour had passed when my friends Sally and Clark chose one particular song that they seemed really excited about. As soon as the music began, I knew i had heard the song before, but didn't really know where it came from. As the music to Beijing Huan Ying Ni began to creep through the speakers, the room erupted with emotion. This was the official song of the 2008 Olympics, translated as, "Beijing Welcomes You." I feel like this song has become the unofficial motto for the new China. This song, better than any others I heard, captures the hope, pride, and excitement that has been stirring in this country--climaxing at the Olympics.

For the next 7 minutes, I watched my friends sing their hearts out. For the next 7 minutes, I watched a music video with almost every Chinese celebrity standing together--united in love for their country. For the next 7 minutes, I was filled with love, respect, appreciation, wonder, and pride for China. In these 7 minutes, my perception of China was changed. In that moment, that night, in that KTV parlor...I finally got it. I got why/how the Chinese were so proud of their country. I finally got the depth and mystery of this ancient yet modern culture. I finally grew resigned to the fact that it was "Ok" for China to be different. Contrary to what my skin or language would have told me, in those 7 minutes I was almost convinced that I too was Chinese. Maybe it was less thinking, and more wishing--wishing I could be part of their past, be part of their future...Wishing I could sing this song with the same conviction I was seeing on the other faces there in that dim room.

There is an ancient Confucian philosophy that held to "The redemptive properties of Chinese culture." Applied mainly to neighbors and barbarous invaders, the idea went that Chinese culture was so magnificent and beautiful that it would actually change, civilize, or Sinicize (make Chinese) all those who came in contact with it. I like to think that in some very real way, this has applied to me--that is some very real way, China has redeemed and changed me. As those warring neighbors of old, after even such a brief contact with these people, I return just a bit more Chinese.

Throughout this semester you have read my reflections, meditations, rants, criticisms, frustrations, revelations, and epiphanies. I have learned, grown, got lost, made mistakes, had adventures, made relationships, fallen even more in love with my Creator, and even eaten a dog or two along with way. I apologize for the times I have seemed too hard on America...or not hard enough. My relationship with this nation is indeed a complex one, and it seems that with every journey I take, this home is illuminated and born again to be viewed with new eyes. My relationship with China has also been very complex--requiring work, patience, and effort to get to know her. (Like any good relationship) At times blinded by child-like flattery, I also realize that I may have over-exaggerated China's strengths, or ignored her weaknesses. All that aside, this nation returned the wonder, adventure, and mystery that has been conspicuously absent from a traveler whose world had grown just a bit too small. Although this trip is over, my relationship with China is not over. The times I have had will always stay with me--affecting me, enlivening me, saddening me, and forever tainting the way I view the world.

中国。。。
我爱你
有空来坐！

---你的美国的弟弟!
(马修)

Lost in Translation...

2008-12-10T06:23:00.000-08:00

So for one of my final projects in Chinese 2 I had to choose a pop song to translate from characters to pinyin and then into English. Although I knew this would be hard, I didn't know it would turn out like this! Doing this was when it really hit me how different our languages really are... Now I don't feel so bad when I see funny English translations! For your home enjoyment I have included the entire translation of one of my favorite songs in China that I have actually song at Karaoke numerous times. Ladies and Gentleman, straight from Taiwan...S.H.E.!

汉语2

马修 (Matthew)

10日12月2008年

CHINESE POP SONG TRANSLATION:

S.H.E. -- 谢谢你的温柔 (Thank you For Your Gentleness)

VERSE 1:

谢谢你如此温柔

Xièxie nĭ rúcĭ wēnróu

Thank you in this way gentle
捧着爱静静等候

pĕng zháo ài jìngjìng dĕnghòu

Holding love peace awaiting

我的双手其实同样在颤抖
wŏ de shuāngshŏu qíshí tóngyàng zài chàndŏu
My both hands actually the same way shaking

但我能给你什么
Dàn wŏ néng geĭ nĭ shénme

But I can give you what?
我只是一个他遗忘的我

Wŏ zhĭshì yī gè tā yíwàng de wŏ

I am just one he has forgot me
心被一扫而空

Xīn bèi yī sào ér kòng

Heart was entirely passed over leaving it empty

BRIDGE:

我会把你种在我心中

Wŏ huì bà nĭ zhòng zài wŏ xīn zhōng

I will hold your seed in my heart’s center

也许某天会终于在此长出一个梦

Yĕxŭ mŏutiān huì zhōngyú zài cĭ zhăng chū yīgè mèng

And maybe someday it will finish grown one dream

CHORUS:

飞轮海:不知道

Fēi lún hăi bù zhīdào

Don’t know
不明了

Bù míngliào

Don’t understand
不想要

Bù xiăngyào

Don’t want
为什么

Wèi shénme

Why
我的心

Wŏ de xīn

My heart
明明是想靠近

Míngmíng shì xiăng kàojìn

Obviously want to get close
却孤单到黎明

Què gūdān dào límíng

But all alone arrive daybreak
不知道

Bù zhīdào

Don’t know
不明了

Bù míngliào

Don’t understand
不想要

Bù xiăngyào

Don’t want
为什么

Wèi shénme

Why

我的心

Wŏ de xīn

My heart

那爱情的绮丽

Nă ài qíng de qĭlì

That love glory

总是在孤单里

Zŏng shì zài gūdān lĭ

Always is alone within
再把我的最好的爱给你

Zài bà wŏ de zuìhăo de ài gĕi nĭ

Again my best love give you

VERSE 2

谢谢你如此温柔

Xièxie nĭ rúcĭ wēnróu

Thank you in this way gentle

点着笑容的灯火

Diăn zhe xiàoróng de dēnghuŏ

Light smiling lights

只温暖而不打扰我的寒冬

Zhī wēnnuăn ér bù dărăo wŏ de hándōng

Alone warm not disturb my cold winter

还没决定往哪走

Háiméi juédìng wăng năzŏu

Not yet decide go where

才所以不能答应你陪我

Cái suŏyĭ bùnéng dāying nĭ péi wŏ

Therefore not able promise you accompany me

怕你会变成我

pà nĭ huì biàn chéng wŏ

Afraid you will change turn into me

REPEAT:

Bridge (1x)

Chorus (2x)

Verse 2 (1x)

For Your Convenience: Matthew’s Colloquial Translation:

Thank you for your gentleness

Holding your love, waiting peacefully

My hands are actually shaking…

But what can I give you?

I am just one that he has forgotten

My heart was completely passed over leaving me empty

BRIDGE

I will plant you in my heart

And maybe one day it will grow to be a dream

CHORUS

I don’t know

I don’t understand

I don’t want

Why does

My heart

I obviously want to get so close

But every morning I wake up alone.

I don’t know

I don’t understand

I don’t want

Why does

My heart

That glory of love

Is always alone inside

Again I give my best love to you

SECOND VERSE

Your bright smile

Is warm—but alone it cannot stop my cold winter

I haven’t decided where to go yet

Therefore I can’t promise you that you’ll go with me

I am afraid that you will turn into me

The Last Week

2008-12-06T22:50:00.000-08:00

So it's down to my last week in this incredible country. It's hard to believe that I have been here this long already! On one hand, it feels like I just got here, and on the other hand when I think back to all the memories and growth over the semester it feels like I have been here forever! Like I told my mom, I sometimes feel like I was born and raised here! Well this is not the time or the post to begin some of my reflections on this semester as a whole. So let me update you on some of the events of the last couple of weeks:

Thanksgiving Weekend was one of the funnest weekends in the whole semester. While some of us originally had doubted that we would do anything that could substitute for our American expectations of the holiday, we were wrong. The night before Thanksgiving we planned a camping trip on a nearby island with some guys from the team and also some of our Chinese friends. The idea of "camping" seemed foreign to them, so we weren't sure how the whole thing was gonna work out! (One friend had to look the word up in his dictionary!) Nevertheless, they seemed excited and so we decided to meet after dinner to catch the barge to the island. Although we had told everyone to bring blankets, sheets, sleeping bags, etc., this exhortation seemed to fall on deaf ears. All of friends had full backpacks--but they were full of extra clothes, food, and other things! This left us on one of the coldest nights of the year so far all huddled up on the too blankets Park and I had brought...trying to get sleep! As an avid camper I thought I had made all kinds of fires, but this night proved very different. The only wood around was bamboo we gathered in the nearby forest. As we started to build the fire we realized it burned very quickly and as every single stalk of bamboo would heat up it would pop sending sparks and ashes flying into the group! Maybe this is why my friend Leo said, "Fires are not romantic in China, they are violent!" Violent bamboo fires aside, the best part of the night was teaching the guys one of the gems of American culture--THE SMORE. I had managed to find all of the required supplies at the campus supermarket and we were so excited to share this part our country. In a very Sandlot-style explanation, we went through the steps one by one to our wide-eyed friends. After I finished with the model I handed it to Leo. After he took a bite, we all waited for the reply...with a blank stare he said, "I'm just confused!" The confusion soon surpassed and the culinary mission was a success as we ate all the materials rather quickly.

Thanksgiving day was very fun. The whole gathered for a party at the CSP office where we had a potluck dinner of our favorite Chinese dishes and even a couple Western ones-- cheeseburgers, KFC chicken, and apple pies! The whole place was decorated(ish) for Thanksgiving and Christmas and we used our paintings from Chinese watercolor class as placemats. It was a great night that really felt like family--it felt like Thanksgiving was supposed to. After we ate, we drank hot chocolate and milk tea and watched a Christmas movie while some danced to "Baby It's Cold Outside." I thought I would definitely miss out what was going on in America during Thanksgiving but this night reminded me that we can make anything "ours" wherever we are. It will truly be a remembered Holiday.

On another note, I am almost addicted to 斗地租--this awesome Chinese poker game invented in the 50's with strong communist overtones. It literally means "fight the landlord." We have made a vow to play every night before we leave!

Who Are We?

2008-11-24T08:33:00.000-08:00

"So when will China elect it's first black president?" I posed this question to my Chinese friend Clark sitting across the table as we enjoyed some really good Japanese food. (It's good to have a break from Chinese food every now and then!) I think this question caught him off guard as he looked very confused and immediately answered, "It is impossible!" The day Obama was elected I was very proud--proud at how far we had come as a country and excited at the historical magnitude of the event. I won't lie, I would have liked to have been in the US for just this day, but on the other hand being in Beijing on election day gave me some insight into how the "other side" sees American politics.

The shared excitement over Obama's victory led to many conversations about race, politics, and culture between my Chinese friends and I that ended up giving me the best insight I have into for a long time...

It is easy for us (as Americans) to assume that the whole world is like us--or at least that they want to be like us. As I have travelled here to China and even lived in a dorm of other international students from countless other countries, I see just how different America is than much of the world. I tend to over-criticize our country and point out her flaws more than most. This is not one of those flaws...

I love America. I love America because she is the unwanted step-child of the nations. We are a people of people. A culture of cultures. Although I have always "known" this to be true, seeing a country on the opposite end of the spectrum has aided in my perception. After I asked this question about Obama, I realized a very simple conclusion--China is not just a country. China is a race. China is a people. China is a language. China is a culture. China is China. The idea of a "non-Chinese" being president makes absolutely no sense. After this revelation, I frantically started thinking to other places-- Germany (language, race, culture) --Japan (language, race, culture) -- Korea (language, race, culture) -- and the list goes on.

A terrible feeling came over me-- I call it "perceived cultural illegitimacy". As an American i suddenly felt like an overshadowed, sickly orphan boy wandering through the rows and rows of defined cultures wondering who I was and where I really came from. Who are we? I asked this out loud with a dismayed look and my Chinese friends didn't really seem like they knew the words to make me feel better! Think about it-- Anyone can be an American. Within 1 generation, any family can fully become English speaking, voting, working, Americans. This includes Chinese, Mexican, Japanese, Senegalese, Kenyan, French, or anyone else you can think of. Who are we? We are us. This is the beauty of America that keeps bringing me back to her even in times of my deepest discouragement...

We are indeed the great experiment-- a hodgepodge of peoples from every corner of the globe all coming together to risk a new life. America is beautiful because it is for anyone and everyone. We see this so much that we tend to take it for granted. Living in China for the past few months I have began to appreciate the beauty of diversity. Here, everyone knows I am not Chinese. I will definitely never be president here- no matter how much time I spend here. In America you can never pin-point the "foreigners" or the "real Americans." Some attempt this and in doing so deny the very fabric of our flag --the very definition of our land. We are us. Whatever your political persuasion- you have to be in awe at a country where it is possible that the son of a Kenyan immigrant and Kansas woman can become president where just 50 years ago he would have been denied even the most basic of rights! That is something to be proud about. American identity is both a blessing and a curse. One one hand, we lack the kind of national unity and understanding that is so present in a place like here in China. We are a mutt-country. On the other hand, we were an experiment that worked-- a beautiful bouquet of the world's most colorful cultures coming together in one land.

American is a young country. We are a country that is constantly evolving and re-inventing herself. This is so incredibly different from this ancient culture that is had made me question my own identity. Here, family and ancestry is so important. It's all about where you come from and who you come from. Some friends of mine who say they are "from" Shanghai although they had never been there--their family is from Shanghai. In a culture like this, how can an American not feel slightly left out? They want to hear me say I am British/Irish/German, but I am not-I am American--but what does that mean? Who are we? We are American. WE--And thank God it's not just people who look, talk, and believe like me.

As I have come to appreciate and love this side of America, I realize the danger in creating our own "pseudo-nation."With a recent rise in racist events and anti-immigrant behavior, it seems like many people need a lesson on America. I have met many people in the States that seem to imagine a Chinese-type society where everyone shares a race, language, and culture. (Coincidentally, this is white and English speaking.) I'm sorry--you can't have it both ways! America is not like this. We never have been and we never will be, and the sooner people realize that the better off we will all be off! If you claim to be a patriot, then you need to love the real America--not the idealized and uniform version you have built up in your culturally monolithic communities. I love America precisely because she is a country unable to be defined-- a country of countries. I love this America--complete with all the blacks, whites, Hispanics, Asians, and languages involved.

America is a passionate idea or it is nothing. America is a human brotherhood or it is chaos. ~Max Lerner, Actions and Passions, 1949

America! half-brother of the world!
With something good and bad of every land.
~Philip James Bailey

New Adventures In Old Beijing

2008-11-23T00:23:00.000-08:00

Old Beijing--
This term applies to both an actual area of this massive city, and
also to the social climate that has become associated with it. Old Beijing usually refers to the lakes district of Beijing and more specifically to the Hutongs that surround it. Hutongs are small and extremely narrow alleyways of houses joined together by open courtyards. Many "Beijingers" still live in this type of neighborhood that started all the way back in the Yuan dynasty (the first one to make Beijing it's capital.) The other thing Old Beijing could be applied to is the type of community living and activities that happen all over the city but especially in these areas.

The first encounter I had with this was in the 后海 Lake district of Beijing. After eating some awesome noodles and wandering around the beautifully lit up lake shopping area, we walked through a large public square to a nearby Hutong. The Hutong felt like a completely different, almost forgotten part of this city. Surrounded by small, cramped houses, we walked deeper and deeper into the dark alleys passing groups and groups of people sitting around playing Chinese Chess and Majong (domino type game.) After stopping of at a storefront for some candy and warm drinks (it was really cold,) we made our way back to the public square...but much to our suprise it had completely exploded with life. With shocked looks we made our way across the street watching the group of about 300 people that had gathered in this square. And they were...dancing! Apparently, someone had set up a stereo set complete with well-known Chinese ballads and within minutes a massive group had amassed for an impromput dance session. We watched as they moved from a couple dance to a type of individual line dance that apparently everyone knew. I was completely baffled at the type of group present--weathered faces that had lived through the entire civil war and communist takeover, young urban couples with designer clothes, children happily running through the crowds, quiet middled aged men looking for a woman to dance with, and teenagers texting on their cell phones while still hitting all the moves with perfect precision. Off to the left of the dancers were groups of kids playing hackey-sack, and old men smoking pipes and talking about the good old days. It seemed like everyone in the surrounding area had come out on a thursday night...simply to be together. Oh I forgot to mention--it was about 40 degrees.

This awesome moment turned out to be far from an isolated event. The next day at the park beside the Temple of Heaven we were lost among probably thousands of people (no exxageration) playing games, telling stories, dancing, exercising, and singing songs. The thing that hit me the most was as we walked into the Temple of Heaven I saw a couple hundred people gathered in a group all singing in perfect unison following the leadership of a very charismatic volunteer. They were singing the official Olympic anthem for the Beijing 08 games. Upon questioning, i found out that this wasn't an official group or even a normal meeting time--this was just a group of people that gathered to sing with pride for their city and their country. As I was frozen watching their faces and listening to their chorus of voices, I was filled with goosebumps and pride for this country. As weird as this sounds, I was proud of their culture, their grand past, and their exciting future.
(There was some other cool singing going on in the other parts of the park--revolutionary songs from the 1960's that everyone still knew...)

This community was not limited to just Beijing. Here are some quick highlitghes we saw from Xi'an

25 people dancing together...to the music from a girl's cell phone! (She was strategically placed in the center.
20 people watching and getting into a pretty intense Chinese Chess match. (Chinese Chess is so different from International Chess in that it is a truly a group activity-where everyone watching tells eachother what to do! It's pretty fun to watch.)

I have almost no equivalent in my own culture with which to compare these experiences. It think it is obvious to you by now that the Chinese are an extremely communal people. The group is valued, the family is important. In the West, it feels like we are just a big group of semi-connected individuals akwardly relating to eachother through our hobbies or careers. Honestly, it has been refreshing to be a in a culture that does not worship the self to the extent that we tend to do in our culture. Here, it is not always about, "What i want," or "What I deserve," it tends to do more with the overall good of the group. This seemingly insignificant difference bleeds into a myriad of realms including religion, business, family, and government. It also bleeds into simply the way they interact with eachother...
Here parks become places for people to interact, not just beautiful places to look at

People need eachother--i think we tend to forget that.

Im still processing all this, and there is a lot of elements involved. Im kinda of ranting now. This trip has given me a lot to think about...

Until then,

马修
（Matthew)

Late night dancing

Chinese Chess Baby!

Across This Great Nation

2008-11-17T00:14:00.000-08:00

I am back and rested from the 2 week sojourn across China! Leaving the day after our history final, this trip was designed to introduce us to some of the very diverse regions of China and give us the opportunity to actually see and touch we had been intensely studying for the whole first part of the semester. The two weeks were spent in three places- Shanghai (上海) , Beijing （北京）, and Xi'an (西安）.

The first stop was a just a short flight to the modern economic capital of Shanghai. Twice the size of NYC, this massive metropolis earned it the name among the team as "Asia's Gotham City." I remember writing about the incredible size of Hong Kong--this city dwarfed Hong Kong on every level. It took a good 30 minutes to reach our hotel from the airport and as we drove along the urban sprawl never thinned and the skyscrapers only increased. Although Shanghai is the richest and most modern of all Chinese cities, it has almost no history (according to Chinese standards, of course.) For this reason, we only spend 1 night and 2 days in Shanghai. The first night we went to see the famoust Chinese acrobats preform, which was abosolutely incredible. I can't even explain half of the stuff they were able to do with their bodies, but one of the coolest things was fitting 9 people on one regular sized bike and successfully riding it around. You remember the Ocean's 11 movies? The little flexible Chinese thief (the actor) started his career in the same troup that we saw preform.
One thing of historical significance that we did manage to see was Sun Yatsen's old house. Sun Yatsen was the Christian architect of the revolution that eventually toppled the last Chinese dynasty. This man was a very wise leader who is still respected by all political persuasions as "One of Chinese greatest sons." Sun Yasten died before the fighting began between the Nationalists and Communists. The last thing we enjoyed in Shanghai was going to the building where the People's Republic of China was born and the Communist Consitution was signed. It was awesome...

Going to Beijing was an incredible experience. There is some reflections that I have from this time but I will save that for the next post. It was awesome to be in the capital of this great nation- where so much has happened for so many centuries. We stayed here for 4 days and did a lot!

Summer Palace
Forbidden City
Great Wall
Temple of Heaven
Tian'amen Square
Mao's Mausoleum
The Bird's Nest and Water Cube (more modern history)

It is almost impossible to explain and describe the beauty/magnitude of most of what we saw in Beijing. Forbidden City was my favorite thing we actually went to in the city- labelled as the largest museum in the world, this massive ancient complex lies in the middle of the modern city. This was the western equivalent of a "palace" where all royal issues were handled and where the royal family lived. It was extra special for me because I was able to go to the location where my favorite emperor was born and see the actual throne he ruled from! (Kangxi is the man! Qing Dynasty) Some of the funnest parts of Beijing where just walking around and experiencing the very different northern culture (my school is in south china.) Food on the treck was also very important--Beijing was where I first tried sweet and sour...DOG. Yeah, you heard it right.

A lot of people maybe have never heard of "Xi'an." All i need to tell you is that this is the place where the terra-cotta army is. Xi'an was by far my favorite city in China. The northern climate was a great break from the constant warmth recieved in Xiamen! I was so happy to just see my breath again! This is an incredibly ancient city- almost beyond anything we as Americans can fathom. The first imperial dynasty of China had it's dynasty here...in 221 B.C.! Do the math--that's a long time ago. Emperor Qin Shi Huang Di united the empire in this year and at the same time began the construction of his massive grave. Just think about that for a second- while our ancestors were running around in stone-age tribes covered in blue paint, the Chinese were standardizing the weights, currency, and measurments of their empire. Not to mention they were raising impressive armies and beggining the construction of the Great Wall...
It's like how a Chinese friend once responded to Western belittling of China: "While your ancestors were sitting in trees mine were discussing philosophy!"
Besides the Qin dynasty, Xi'an was the capital of 5 other Chinese dynasties acting as home to centuries and centuries of important and fascinating history. This city is one of the last cities with the entire city wall still intact--complete with a moat! The wall stretches 9 square miles around the original city, but the modern Xi'an has long since grown past this ancient confinements. This city was a unique and incredible fusion of the ancient and the modern. Walking on top of a 700 year old wall you could spot out a taxi to take or a starbucks for a quick coffee break. When the ancient silk road first opened linking China to Jerusalem, mainly arabian merchants made their way to Xi'an to trade and life, settling in what is now known as "The Muslim District." This district is now comprised mainly of the Hui ethnic minority who have their own set of customs and religious belief but still speak Mandarin. Our group was almost always mysteriously drawn to the Muslim Quarter. Perhaps this had to do with the awesome street food, cheap shopping, and overall frenetic-yet-stree-free atmosphere. It's hard to explain, but it was sweet! This area of the city soon starting getting other names like, "Hui-town," "Muslim-ville," "Muslim-town," and "Uyger-ville." It was hear where we would eagerly scarf down on "Muslim-treats."

Speaking of religions, Christianity first came to China at the height of the Tang dynasty in 635 A.D. Consequently, the capital at this time was Xi'an. Our group had the great opportunity to visit the (assumed) site of the first church planted in China by Persian Nestorians. It was hear where we got to see a plaque dating back to the 600's that celebrates, "The arrival of the religion of light from the West." Very cool.

The obvious awesome thing we did was to visit the grave of Emperor Qin Shi Huangdi that was once home to over 8000 life-sized terra-cotta soldiers fully prepared to conquer and fight in the afterlife. The process of restoration has been very tedious and we were able to see how the international team of archieologists were uncovering and piecing back together the incredible figures. It's hard to explain the historical significance you feel in such a place. Let's just say i felt small.

The last thing we did on the trip was to go to a small town on the outskirts of Xi'an county named Lan Tian (blue jade.) For three days we served a county high school by "teaching english" to the classes of 50-60 students. Although at first seemingly overwhelming, this turned out to be a really fun opportunity for us to see what real life in China is life. Besides just teaching English (and playing pick-up ping pong games), we ate our meals with the students in their homes. It was great to go to normal Chinese homes and enjoy time with whole families--we have missed out on this some being on a University campus. One of the meals I went alone. I was a little nervous about communication at first, but these couple of hours turned out to be some of the most memorable I have had in China. My Mandarin (although broken) seemed to flow ok, and the two girl's english (although broken) flowed ok as well. We ate together while their mother periodicaly came in and gave me scoops of more food yelling, "Chi, chi, chi!" (eat, eat, eat!)

This trip, although brief and limited gave me a better understanding of the geographical immensity and diversity present in China. While it is an easy temptation for us to view China as very uniform, it are far from that. Each province differs in food, language, customs, and culture--the areas of the province differ further. In the next couple of days I will probably reflecting on a little deeper level on some of the things I saw/learned while travelling.

Oh i almost forgot... we took 2 seperate overnight trains to our destinations. I don't know about you, but as an American completely dependent on the automobile this was a mysterious and captivating event. I kept waiting for someone to get murdered, and then we would all have to figure out who did it...perhaps with the help of a travelling Belgium sleuth. You see that's the problem with expectations. Nothing that cool happened, but we did get some sweet Chinese Chess games in and made some tea. It dosen't sound cool, but it really was...

I am alive.

2008-11-06T07:04:00.000-08:00

For everyone out there who has realized my absence from this blog, don't worry- I am still alive. Right now I am in the middle of "The Treck." This 2 week journey across China is one of the main components of my program that will lead me through Shanghai, Beijing, Xi'an, and a rural villages by plane, train, and bus. You know those verizon commercials where they say, "The internet can't hide anymore?" Well....they have never been to China. The internet is almost constantly hidden, so it has been incredibly difficult to update or even contact the padres. I am having an incredible trip so far and will fill you in on when i get back to Xia-Da. I can tell you, however, that I did not miss out on the election fever- it was present in the newspaper vendors and and people on the streets wearing Obama pins and following the electoral count. Tommorow we are going to see Qin Shihuan Di's army of terra cotta solidiers....
I am going to bed (just as your day is beginning.)

bye

The Art of (not) Planning

2008-10-20T22:59:00.000-07:00

Not everyone is a good planner. Some would call it a skill, others might call it an art. Good organization and planning skills are traits needed by any business or group, no matter the size. Poor fiscal planning could leave your family in debt, or poor military planning could leave you in the quagmire of Iraq with seemingly no way out. Although we would agree on the dire necessity of these skills, I would venture to say that there are some occasions that call for the exact opposite--no plans. Not everyone can plan well, but almost no one can not plan well. (Maybe you should read that again.) If you know me, you know that I value flexibility, spontaneity, and having no idea what I am doing next...

Last weekend Nate, Park, and I set out for the weekend to go to the ancient stone-walled city of Chongwu. We gave ourselves a 75% chance of actually getting where we wanted to go, packed our backpacks, and set off...with absolutely no idea what we were doing or where were sleeping for the next two days. The beauty of not planning, is that you have no schedule or timeline that can get messed up and cause frustration-- the whole trip is the journey itself! After making it to the bustop, we found out that there were no more buses to Chongwu that night (of course.) Instead of accepting defeat and staying in Xiamen, we decided to take a bus back to Quanzhou which was only about 45 minutes from Chongwu. As we were getting on the bus, we met a girl who knew English and wanted to know if she could help us, I guess we looked really confused! She ended up being on the same bus as us, so we talked and hung out with her all the way to Quanzhou. Upon getting to the city, Irene helped us find a shadyish hostel not far from the bus-stop where we could stay for the night. It was actually part of someones house, but they had extra rooms! She seemed confused that we didn't want to stay in a hotel because it was too expensive, but instead chose the hostel that was only $12 for all 3 of us to stay there! Yeah mayne! After that, we met some of her friends for some local Quanzhou cuisine and then ended up a 100 year old traditional Chinese tea house where we drank tea, and taught them how to play the card game "bs." (classic cultural exchange.) We made our way back to the hostel where we sat on the front stoop until about 3 am with the old Chinese guards debating and discussing various elements of Chinese history, as well as government and economics from a Chinese perspective.

The next morning we got some coffee and then caught a $1 bus to the original destination--Chongwu! Most of the people on our bus were men and women from the Chinese ethnic minority "Hui'nan." Most people think of Chinese as one people group who look the same, but this country is actually incredibly diverse. The woman from this group colorful head shaws reminiscent of Islamic head coverings, expect their whole face was shown. We sat at the back of the bus and practiced our Chinese with the guys who sat beside us. To show you what I have been learning, my friend Nate and I talked to our neighbor and we: found out his name, where he was from and where he was going, found out about his family, that he like the NBA, his favorite player was KOBE, and that the best Kung-fu around was definitely in Yunnan province. We reciprocated and told him all about us...ALL IN CHINESE! Obviously, we couldn't move much beyond these basics, but it was exciting!

We finally made it to Chongwu, and it was utterly breathtaking. I have always heard/read about cities completely surrounded by stone walls, but never imagined what one would look like in person. Built 700 years ago in the Ming Dynasty, this city is one of the last 3 intact stone-walled cities in all of China. Although built up around the ancient city, the boundaries are still completely intact and there are many people who live inside. The entire city was made of stone-- the houses, the walls, the temples, the ground. As we walked through the incredibly calm stone fortress, the only sound that interrupted us was the occasional motorcycle taxi passing, or the ancient women walking together carrying fruit or vegetables. The population of the city was noticeably old-- my friends and I reflected on the fact that we never really see this many old people in America. It seems most are shut away from society or secluded in their homes. This was quite the opposite--the city was crawling with the socialite octogenarians who talked, sold, and shopped like they were still in their 40's.

We explored the city and eventually made it to the back wall where we climbed up and then walked alongside it looking both in on the city and off at the coastline. We made it down to the beach where we met a huge group of students from Fujian University. We ended up spending a couple hours with them and joining in their Chinese-style barbecue. They were incredibly nice and hospitable. After we left, we explored the city by night. If it was not for the occasional din of a television set, I would have believed I was back in the Ming dynasty. At 8pm it was almost completely quiet and dark, except for the old men quietly drinking tea and playing Chinese checkers together. Most of the city had a slight red glow coming off the altars from the homes. I honestly felt like I was in a movie. Ok, here is where you are going to think I am crazy. There were no hotels close, and we wanted to sleep INSIDE the stone fortress. Alongside the back wall, there was an old abandoned home that provided some shelter from the intense wind coming off the coast. We set up our newly purchased reeds mats (Park had a hammock) and we enjoyed the down and dirty history of this great city!!

This was probably the best weekend I have had in China so far--not because of what some initerary said, but because of our complete disregard of plans and embrace of adventure. So, dear friends, I would submit to you that while planning is a definite skill, not planning is equally important.

Helping to create a "Mental Image"

2008-10-16T00:08:00.000-07:00

My mother often complains that she can't get a mental image of where I am, what I am doing, and the people I am hanging out with. This is understandable of course, so I have included some pictures here of the daily life: (i send my love Mom!)

The above picture is the main west gate of my university. It reads Xiamen University or literally, "Xiamen Big Learning."

We ran into some monks at the Southern Shaolin Temple and they decided to share some of their combat expertise... (yes, this IS daily life.)

Some views of the campus and city from the top of my building.

Chilling on Gulangyu-- an island off the coast of Xiamen

We found an abandoned trail that led to this fence and sign. Here I am making sure that the character for "forbidden" is not present. Sure enough, it wasn't... so we went through and continued exploring.

Chinese "squatty-potty"

The back gate of campus nearest to my dorm. This is taken from the bus stop looking across at the beach.

The local fruit stand on campus.

The boys. (From left to right: Spino, Micheal Scofield, Clever, Matthew, Park, and David.)

Playing some pool.

My dorm, the tallest on campus-- Yeah Mayne!

Tourist/Traveler

2008-10-15T06:57:00.000-07:00

As I continue my attempt to discover and understand this vast place, I am becoming increasingly aware of my own ideas and misconceptions I brought with me to China. China, more than most countries, is a place that we are taught to perceive a certain way. We are taught that China is a communist place, and communism is bad. We are taught about the one-child policy, human rights, and Mao Zedong...but not much more. I fear that many of our preconceptions are hastily formed on facts we know little about. Since I have been here I China, I have been incredibly humbled by the amount of things I don't know. I feel like the more I learn and grow, the more I realize that I know nothing at all.

"A tourist sees what he came to see; a traveler sees what there is to see."
This quote by G.K. Chesterton has become somewhat of a motto for me on this trip. It seems like the natural process of going to another culture can easily slip into the "tourist" trap. My professor has defined tourists as, "People who come to a place, laugh at things that are weird and different, take pictures, point and stare, buy things, and then go home." A traveler on the other hand, is an intentional crosser of cultures; somehow who humbles himself to learn and grow from his experience in the culture and with the local people. These are very different types of people--one requires nothing but a passport--the other requires patience, understanding, and much effort. I have been trying to be an intentional traveler. This is not an easy feat and I have not been totally successful, but I realize I am hear to learn and penetrate the culture, not gawk and laugh from the safety of my expatriate bubble. The world is a big place, and we are but one fish in this pond. It is refreshing and necessary to hear how local Chinese interpret the world. So, in the spirit of this discussion, I have included some quotes from Chinese that I think reveal interesting things about the Chinese people/nation:

"We want to be the force of the world--similar or equal to the Tang dynasty."

"I believe that Mao was a strong man--not a good man."

"When Americans think terrorism they Muslims threatening American security, when Chinese hear this, they think of America threatening the world's security."

"Please don't judge us by American standards, CHINA is CHINA."

"America is nothing but a baby country--very young."

"It doesn't matter if a cat is black or white, as long as that cat can hunt."
-Deng Xiaoping (former leader of China during the 70's economic reforms)

These are just some quotes that stuck out to me--windows into the Chinese mind if I may. I must end this post with another great quote not about China...but about travel itself:

The born traveler--the man who is without prejudices, who sets out wanting to learn rather than to criticize, who is stimulated by oddity, who recognizes that every man is his brother, however strange and ludicrous he may be in dress and appearance--has always been comparatively rare.
--Hugh Massingham

Chinese Pirates

2008-10-11T10:00:00.000-07:00

Sorry if I got your hopes up with the title: no I am not going to talk about those kind of pirates. As you may well know, piracy is not as big of a deal in other countries as it is in America. China is definitely one of those countries that could care less. We found an underground pirated DVD market that has become our go-to-place for any movies we need. This is especially helpful for what we have deemed "Terrible Movie Tuesday" where we gather to watch... a terrible movie! One of my friends bought a dvd with 10 Stephen stegal movies on it-- I think we will be set for a while! Anyways, here is some covert footage to give you an idea of what these really tight DVD stores really look like.

*Footage taken by Park Dinger

On a slightly related topic...do you remember the Chinese sailor I wrote about previously that was sailing around the world before Columbus? Well, here is a scale image of their ships for you to ponder:

This is an image of one of Zheng Her's ships...and Columbus' Santa Maria.

Stuff Chinese People Like

2008-10-08T07:32:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. Yesterday, was not so good. Yesterday was a sick day. This was not just the every day kind of sick-- but the gut wrenching, head pounding, no energy, wake up at 4:30 am to run the bathroom kind of sick. What added to the normal traumas of a stomach bug was the fact that this was first time being really sick without a primary caregiver! Whenever I have traveled before, I have had group leaders or friends that buy me medicine, take care of me, etc. If I am in America anywhere, at least I can call my mom and she can talk me into feeling a little better! However, I managed to nurse myself back from my death-bed with a mixture of immodium, vitamin c, pepto bismol, Advil, and Chinese herbal medicines. (Mom, you would be really proud!)
So even without the regular maternal oversight, alas I have recovered...and this calls for some celebration. I went out today with a group of my Chinese friends to play ping pong and eat some Sichuan food. At some point during the night, I got this idea for my next blog post: Stuff Chinese People Like. I draw my inspiration from the blogs, "Stuff White People Like," and "Stuff Christians Like." So in a totally respectful way here is my list so far, intended to give you a cultural snapshot of where I am living and the friends I am making.

Stuff Chinese People Like:

Ping-Pong. The constant domination of the Olympics should give us a hint on this one. I went to a Chinese ping-pong "hall" today and you wouldn't believe the things that I saw. Not only were all my friends who claimed they were "novices" absurdly good, the place was a like a house full of Chinese Forrest Gumps. Everyone was good! Beside us was a 6 year old boy who was returning ball after ball from his teacher...with his eyes closed! Dumbfounded, I looked around to see many young children who who would have wiped the floor with me! There was a girl who looked about 5 playing with an old man, and keeping up with him! Chinese definitely like ping-pong. (You better watch out when I get back!)
History. Liked I mentioned before, most Chinese are very historically literate. Not only is history important to Chinese, it is interesting too-- the majority of Chinese sitcoms are actually stories from history.
American Television. Basically what I mean when I say this is Prison Break. It is ridiculous the amount people talk about that show here. I don't know anyone that watches Prison Break in the states, but I don't know any of my Chinese friends that don't! Other popular shows include: Desperate Housewives, 24, Friends, Boston Legal, Lost. I know it seems like a random assortment, but they take their TV serious here! A clear sign is what people choose as their English Names. True Story: I have found myself hanging out with a Kim Bauer (24) and Micheal Scofield (Prison Break.) The unfortunate backlash of this fad is that most people perceive America through the lens of Hollywood. Therefore, all women are loose, sex is easy and plentiful, morals are nowhere to be found, everyone one is rich, and we all have extremely long and stressful days like Jack Bauer.
Food. Chinese take their food seriously. There is serious cultural, regional, and historical meanings behind their dishes. With the exception of some Western Fast food, no other foods have really penetrated the Chinese palate. My friends are quick to tell me that Chinese food is their favorite, and that there is no real need to try other "ethnic foods." Chinese food is incredibly different that what you can find at your local "Hunnan Garden" type restaurant. The diversity is indeed incredible. All the different regions of China have their own distinct dishes and tastes. There is just to much to try, to little time! Don't worry, I am preparing a blog soon dedicated completely to my favorite foods that i have discovered.
Karaoke. This relatively obscure activity in America is an absolute obsession here! It is hard to walk down any main road and miss the enormous KTV parlors. So I have to admit, I did go with a group of Chinese friends...and it was indeed awesome. The English selection was a little lacking, so most of the time we listened to the Chinese and tried to sing along with the characters we knew. I did get to sing "I want it that way" by the Backstreet Boys, and "In the end" by Linkin Park. Oh yeah, the karaoke was not in some open bar or lousy room, we had a private room with huge couches and refreshments on the 7th floor of the 10 floor Karaoke Heaven-on-earth. This was one of 3 on the block.
Mai Dong Lao. One of the few exceptions to the Chinese culinary monopoly, is the lovely golden arches-- McDonald's. Because, Chinese is not phonetic (syllabic), you can't spell out new words. Instead, you have to combine existing sounds and characters to make it sound like what you want. So the Chinese word for McDonald's is "Mai Dong Lao." KFC is "Ken du ji." McDonald's are everywhere here! They are like Waffle houses in the south, or Dunkin Doughnuts in the north! This is not just your everyday fast food--this is a iconic symbol of the West and modernization. This is an upper class dining experience. This is where you would take your girlfriend on a nice date. This is where the upper class dine. This is McDonald's...and Chinese like it.
Paying for the bill. Although it is customary for Americans to casually feign an argument over who will pay, here in China it can get violent! Even if you tell your friend that you want to take them out, they will pay for the bill before you know what happened! The Chinese are very sneaky in being hospitable and friendly. Last time we went out to eat as a group of Americans and Chinese we literally had to fight our way to the cashier to get there first! A trick we have learned now is excusing ourselves in the middle of dinner to pay the bill before they have a chance! Yeah Mayne!
Being awesome. Well, I'm not sure if they consciously "like" being awesome, but its pretty much a fact that they are. It has taken some getting used to culturally, but over all I find the Chinese I have met to be friendly, caring, funny, hospitable, eager to learn, and brushed up on the latest Prison Break episode. Awesome for sure.

FOOD
I realize this is a minuscule observation of a vastly complex people, but I hope you enjoyed it for what it was.

KARAOKE

HISTORY

Don't Know Much About History...

2008-10-04T07:16:00.000-07:00

Ok get ready... this one is a rant. I am know to sometimes go off on rants--frustrated at the world around me and strongly feeling the need to share these feelings. If you look, I even have a "rants" section on this blog. So here we go, my first Chinese rant.

This last week was national holiday for China. This holiday celebrates the birth of The People's Republic of China in 1949. I guess you could kinda compare it to the 4th of July, but it is a lot younger, and they get a WHOLE WEEK OFF! So in celebration of this great nation, we didn't have classes this week. Our whole group took our first trip to a city about two hours from hear named 泉州 or Quanzhou (pronounced shwenzow). This was an amazing city with historical sites on almost every street corner. During the Song and Yuan dynastys, (960-1368) Quanzhou was the most known and most visited city in the world. Merchants and travelers from all across the know world came to this booming port city to make it one of the most cosmopolitan places in ancient times. At one point, 2 million foreigners were visiting Quanzhou every year. With the population today, that would be the equivalent of 33 million people visiting one city annually! These foreigners brought their customs, ideas, and religions. The United Nations has designated this city as a "museum of world religions" because of the amount and diversity of ancient places of worship. We visited the oldest mosque in China, a Buddhist temple built 1400 years ago, a Confucian shrine, and saw Christian and Hindu gravestones dating back to the 600's. So I have a question...a test of sorts. This city, this amazing historical place, this place that Marco Polo wrote about... have any of you ever heard about it before? (akward silence) (dog barking in the background) I would bet not. As a matter of fact, I would bet that most of you, like me, had not heard of a majority of this incredibly important historical facts. Well, why not Matthew?Hey, thanks for asking--this leads me to my topic for the day.

Since coming here to China, I have began to slowly uncover the disturbing biases in my own educational history. I would venture to say that most Westerners know almost nothing about Chinese or Asian history. We study the Mesopotamians, we study the Romans, we study the Greeks...but somewhere in the shuffle we leave out one of the GREATEST CIVILIZATIONS OF ALL TIME!? Sounds a little shady to me... Ok it's not like there was nothing worth studying, so we just left it out. The Chinese in the ancient Shang dynasty were more technologically advanced in 1500 B.C. than the American Indians were in 1600 A.D. Yeah. That's what I said. Chinese sailors sailed around the known world in ships far larger than Columbus' before he even thought about leaving. (On a side note, the Chinese were pretty much masters at sailing. Almost anything on a boat, they invented. It took 1100 years for the technology of the rudder to get from China to England.) The Han dynasty was contemporaneous to the Roman Empire and matched/probably exceeded it in wealth, power, and size. The Chinese invented pretty much everything but here is a short list:

Paper, Printing, Matches, Playing cards, Gunpowder, Beer, Chess, Umbrellas, Paper Money, Suspension Bridges, The Decimal System, The Compass, Parachute, Grenade, Crossbow, Flamethrow

We were talking about this in class and someone from our class was actually trying to defend the lack of attention Chinese history has gotten in Western classrooms. She said that we studied Rome and the West because they were more related to us and affected us more on a daily level. My teacher replied in a sarcastic tone that although Roman government was influential he wasn't sure how much Rome affected his daily life. And if you think about it, we couldn't have the Boston Tea party without Tea right?

You know what else bothers me? When Americans take this paternalistic tone when speaking of China like it is their responsibility to Westernize, modernize, or civilize one of the greatest civilizations on earth! I think Confucius would say we should be respectful when speaking to our elders! Like one of my Chinese friends said, "America is just a baby country." I think most Americans judge China by their last 50ish years of history. To most, China is nothing more than a backwards communist place. Hate to break it to you, but this is an extremely recent trend in the huge history of China--why don't we look at the whole picture! It is disconcerting to look back on my historical education and realize that it was greatly influenced by this kind of ethnocentric hogwash. Let's face it, we don't always have to be the best, and we haven't really been around that long. I guess it just frustrates me to be learning this all for this for the first time...and i thought I was at least semi-educated. Oh, well.

P.S. We did do something cool in Quanzhou that wasn't exactly historical...
Motorcycle-Taxi racing through the City! Yeah Mayne!

Oh yeah, if anyone has actually heard of Quanzhou or any of the facts I shared, I want you to comment and tell me.

Motorcycle Taxis-- a great invention

Park and I with the famous eunuch sailor--Jeng Hur (slightly cooler Asian Columbus style guy)

Needles.

2008-09-30T10:07:00.000-07:00

I open my eyes to the sound of frantic and hurried Chinese being spoken all around me. I am laying on some sort of bed but I can’t move at all. I hear people coming in and out of the door just to my left but I can’t see who they are or what they are doing. Out of the corner of the eye I see another cot set up beside me. I can’t see who it is because there is a group of people in white coats examining him. I force myself to look down at my body. Needles. There are 16 needles sticking out my face, my neck, my hands, my arms, my legs, and my feet.

No, no, this wasn’t a bad dream or an Asian version of Saw 5—the scene I am describing is at the local Acupuncture clinic. Now this isn’t just any acupuncture clinic. My friend Park and I decided to go and try out the famous Xiamen University training hospital for TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine). It took two days to actually figure out what we were doing and where to go. The second day, we finally made it into a practicing room. I was semi-creeped out as we walked in and saw people laying with pieces of metal protruding from their skin.

There was one main doctor who is reputably the best acupuncturist in Fujian province and speaks very good English. She had us sit down, one-by-one, in the middle of the room to describe our problem we wanted to have worked on. I was completely swarmed by about a dozen twenty-something girl interns wearing white-coats. As I explained my problems with migraines over the last two years, the group of onlookers oooed and aahhed. At one point I was told to stick out my tongue. Everyone immediately burst out in dialogue and note-taking…just a little disconcerting. They say that TCM is the art of observation (they have been doing it for like 5,000 years), so as they looked at my eyes and tongue the doctor started to ask very pointed questions and give very direct statements. Somehow, through everything she knew that my mother had back-problems and some form of headaches. She also predicted that I would have slightly high blood pressure—which I did. After the diagnosis, I was laid out on the table. The first question the doctor asked me was, “Are you sure you are not afraid of needles?” I assured her I wasn’t but wondered if she knew this question would only further frighten the patients. She then proceeded to stick the needles in, one-by-one. To tell you the truth, they did not hurt at all going in, I barely felt them. After the needles were in, the doctor twisted them into my body until I felt the weirdest sensations running through my whole body. I wouldn’t necessarily label them pain, but it was so weird and electric that it caused my whole body to jump up causing the crowd to ooohhh and aahhhh again. I was promptly informed that this was good if the force was strong, because it meant the diagnosis was right. Good, right? I had to sit with the needles in my body for 20 minutes and literally could not move. If I did, that was when it hurt—especially the ones in my temples! I am really hoping that this can prove to be my balm of Gilead for my annoying bout with migraines. I know some of you might be thinking acupuncture is just childish or even demonic—do some research and you can see the real medical benefits it has. Plus, I am pretty thoroughly disillusioned and unimpressed with the Western “cures” I have tried. So why not try something new? As of now I am signed for a 10-session treatment at the training hospital. 3 times a week for 3 weeks. I guess there’s one thing I will be seeing a lot more of. Needles.

Ulterior Motives

2008-09-27T09:08:00.000-07:00

In light of our earlier discussion, I decided to post a pertinent class-assignment. In my intercultural communication class, we were instructed to write a short description of a "cultural incident" that had happened since we arrived in China. These cultural incidents described in our textbook refer to any encounter where either party was confused/frustrated/angered by a cultural or linguistical misunderstand. As you could as guessed, it was not hard to think of one...

Background: Some of the guys and I were coming back from eating dinner at a restaurant not far from the West-Gate of campus when we decided to stop and patronize our favorite tea stand—Dance Tea. We crammed in the small store-front filling it with English, hesitant mandarin, and much laughter. After ordering from the friendly worker who spoke a little English, I decided to practice my Mandarin by asking her a simple question…

Description: Before this, our group had had some makings of a “conversation” with the cashier pieced together with her bad English and our even worse Mandarin. Going for a complex question, I decided to ask her what her name was. I got her attention first, and then sat in silence practicing it in my head while she awkwardly watched me. Finally, I leaned over the counter with way to much confidence and said, “Ni Jiao ma?” thinking this was completely correct. She didn’t seem to get it at first, so I repeated it with more enthusiasm. After this, she looked a little confused. This confusion was met by the laughter of the rest of the female employees of Dance Tea! I was promptly informed by one excited girl that I had just asked her out to eat sometime! Apparently I pronounced Jiao wrong, making it sound more like chi--the word for "to eat." I made an attempt at informing them of my real motives, but I think it just made me look even more foolish. At about this time, our last tea arrived prompting us to all say “zaijian” to the semi-annoyed looking cashier and her co-workers and make our way down the street talking and laughing way louder than normal in Xiamen.

Reflection: At first, this “cultural incident” just seemed like another funny reinforcement of the language barrier that daily reduces me to the abilities of a toddler. However, upon further review, I see how this could have been an example of a “Type 2 Incident.” The unfortunate stereotype about many male Westerners my age is that they are here in China to have fun and take advantage of the local girls. My linguistic fax paus might have been interpreted as a nonchalant and even offensive sexual approach. It seems many Westerners view local Chinese women as only good for dating or sleeping with. That was not the impression I wanted to convey at all. I don’t know if this is how it was taken, but the annoyed look on her face told me maybe she interpreted the laughter and question as more than it really was.

Same Kind Of Different As Ni*...

2008-09-26T23:34:00.000-07:00

"Many of you came to China because it is mysterious, because it is different. It has always been the "exotic other" with a deep and dark history. I want to change this. I want to take China out of the shroud of mystery and let you see it for what it really is--China." This is how my Chinese Teacher opened his first lecture... To tell you the truth it bothered me a little a first. I WAS one of the those people! I even put on my application that China attracted me because of it's mysterious and exotic nature. He assured us that this was not necessarily the problem; the real problem was comparing China to any other place or presupposition. China is not older than America. China is not different than Europe. China is China. It it is with this revelation that I intend to enjoy and (attempt to) understand this beautiful and complex place.

For the purposes of this blog, however, I am going to do a some comparing--not to judge China though the lenses of America, but to more accurately paint a picture of the culture for those of you reading back home. Although I have somewhat internationally traveled, (9 countries in North+South America), nothing could have prepared me for the cultural windstorm that would meet me here in China. During my time in Hong Kong, I was not completely out of Western comfort zone- there were many conveniences available and the sound of English met me almost everywhere I went. For the past century, 2 centuries, Hong Kong as been isolated from mainstream Chinese culture. But I am here now--right in the middle of everything that makes China China. Although there are some differences between our cultures, I think you will soon realize how much in common we all really have...

The differences range from profound to superficial to just plain hilarious. On a more serious note, even the way they write/say their names here in China reveal something about this people. Here, your family name (surname) always goes first--only then followed by your first name. What's important here is your family, your group, your community. Identity is more collectivist. As you know this is a stark difference from the violently individualistic west that teaches the virtues of self-advancement, self-preservation, and self-worship. Although it would sound weird to introduce myself as Blanton Matthew, the Chinese have been doing this for thousands of years before the word "America" was even a twinkle in anyone's eye, so...yea...

Aside from this deeper issues concerning identity and community, there are some differences in simple daily practice. Chinese view the floor as incredibly dirty--anything that touches the floor is beyond redemption! I have watched people drop money and look at it with disgust before walking on. This is the reason why people don't wear shoes in the house. People here would view "The 5 second rule" as utterly barbaric--a practice held by savages.

At the risk of minimizing one of the greatest civilizations in the history of the world here are some other points that I have observed since being here:

The pace of life is different here, it is far more relaxed like most other countries.
I have only seen 2 forks since I have been in China (how do you spell chopstick master?)
Most girls hold hands with their good friends
History is incredibly important here-- it seems everyone is both knowledgeable and excited about their long history
Bikes are a big form of transportation in Xiamen (2 seaters and 3 seaters are popular)
Although many Americans would view "Chinese food" as one type, I am beginning to see the incredible culinary diversity here-- there are many regional restaurants in the city
In China, Mcdonalds is a symbol of modernization and luxury-- In America it is a symbol of frustrated teenagers and broken mc-flurry machines
The people I have met here so far are incredibly helpful, caring, and patient
Most University students have studied English for many years and are quite good! (Many are aghast that we don't learn Chinese-- the 2nd most spoken language in the world...)
Hair Salons are a huge deal and stay open till 11 p.m.
Everyone is very proud of their country, and very proud of the 08 Olympics

I'm sure I will think of many more as soon as I post this, but I just wanted to paint some kind of picture of the culture here. Our view of China as "other" or "foreign" has been reinforced through the years by our media and government. China has been painted as a rouge force in the world-- a nation of Godless commies who would invade America and eat our hearts out--the only reason this hasn't happen is they are too inept to do anything. I think many Americans would view China as a country with irreparable differences. They are just TOO different... Why don't we just stay on our sides of the world and try to avoid nuclear war?

Yes, there are some differences between our two nations--this is undeniable. I have included short list of things that I have observed just since being here. But I would like to share what else I have observed...

I saw a girlfriend and boyfriend walking together, hand in-hand. They almost ran in to me because they were lost in each other's eyes. I saw a mother playing with her adorable little daughter, showing her off to the neighbors. I saw a group of college guys playing basketball and having a great time taking time off from studying. I have seen laughter, frustration, love, anger, and a myriad of other emotions. Perhaps this shows my ignorance, but during my first week here in Xiamen, I was completely surprised at how similar everything seemed to me. Deep down, we are all the same people. We all want the same things. We all express the same emotions. We all laugh. We all bleed. We all sin. We all want purpose for our lives. We all search for love. We were all formed by the same Creator who had a desire to know and love us. In my friendships I have here I see myself and I see friends back home. Most importantly, I see them as the human beings they are. Perhaps I am minimizing the differences, perhaps I am being idealistic, or perhaps I am finally seeing through the artificially exaggerated gap between our cultures and realizing the depth of what we have in common.

Shakespeare explored a similar theme with a monologue from one of my favorite characters in all of literature.

I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
--Shylock (Merchant of Venice)

*Ni= You in Chinese

Some pics from the local Buddhist temple--Naputuo

Park and I enjoying some of the local Xiamen delicacy--milk tea!

Life At 厦门大学

2008-09-23T02:51:00.000-07:00

I often have the tendency to post very philosophical "musings" -- rambling about my thoughts, feelings, and the meaning of life. However entertaining or disconcerting this may be, I realize that it may fail to give an accurate picture of my daily life and experiences here in China by focusing too heavily on just the dark recesses of my psyche...

So, I have decided to pepper my deeper meditations with descriptions and information about the actual day-to-day life here at Xiamen Daxue.

This campus is absolutely beautiful. This only makes sense due to the great reputation Xiamen has as "China's Garden City" --annually rated as one of the most beautiful and most livable of all Chinese cities. I am technically on an island off the coast of the South China sea. Although Xiamen stretches onto the mainland, the majority of the city covers the island. I am living in the southwestern part of the island, about a five minute walk from the coast. Xia-Da has about 20,000 students (including graduate levels) most of whom live in and around the main campus area. Although the school is only 80 years old (very young here), the architecture of most of the main buildings is designed to look like ancient China. In the main part of the campus, there is a huge and very modern 12-story building over-looking a beautiful lake that many students congregate around. I would compare Xia-Da to a state school in America in that there are many restaurants, stores, art galleries, museums, and banks actually on campus to serve the large student population. There are 4 gates that get you in/out of Xia-Da and they are very important landmarks. The most famous gate is the Western gate which opens out into a large area of town where there is many restaurants, a supermarket, bus-stops, an internet cafe, bakery, shopping mall, McDonalds, ect. (pretty much everything you need.) Two of my favorite restaurants are down these roads where you can get some pretty legit and real Chinese food. *Many people have asked if I am getting tired of Chinese food, but I am beginning to realize that there is as much variety in the food here as we have in ours at home! What you think of at the local buffet is only a smidgen of the delicacies offered here. (ex. Squid head on a stick! Yeah Mayne!)

The North gate is associated with the famous Nanputuo Temple that basically borders the campus. This important Buddhist monastery was originally built in the Tang dynasty (618-907). We haven't had the opportunity to go yet, but I am planning on it soon. Apparently you can tour it, hike some mountain trails, and hang out with some monks at the in-house vegetarian restaurant there!

I live closest to the South gate which is literally at the beach. The views are beautiful and the breeze is nice... it might get nicer as of tomorrow (there is a typhoon supposed to touch down in the morning!) The beach board-walk is probably the nicest I have ever seen the world. The militant upkeep and beautification efforts are only outdone by the amount and quality of public art all along the coast! (This goes for all of Xiamen-- it is the most artistic city I have ever seen!)

*Why yes, that is MY sweet workspace and asian poster pictured above... i know you were wondering
My dorm is the second tallest building on campus and is designated for international students only! This hodgepodge includes Ethiopians, Germans, Indians, Canadians, Japanese, Nigerians, and even a whole group from UNC Chapel Hill! These dorms are very nice and are actually the ONLY air-conditioned dorms in the whole campus! There is a restaurant on the second floor that delivers to your room (if you can communicate it correctly in Chinese) and a store that sells everything from electric converters to snickers bars and cigarettes! The majority of my classes take place next door in the OEC- Overseas Education College. It would be hard to identify my favorite classes because they are all awesome and feel like I am learning so much! My mandarin is coming along...barely. I have been studying very hard and this effort is rewarded when I have an actual basic conversation or I can read a sign in (gasp) CHINESE CHARACTERS! These ventures are not without their flaws of course. Earlier tonight, I tried to ask the lady working at the tea-bar what her name was. Apparently this wasn't understood, so I repeated the question. AFTER everyone started laughing, it was communicated to me that I had asked her out on a date! I still don't really know what happened...

Walking across streets is a daily near-death experience. It makes me laugh because they have the painted pedestrian "walk sections," but they don't seem to mean anything. There are no walk signs. There are no read lights. Simply getting across the street often includes running across one lane of traffic standing in the middle of the road, dodging a taxi/and/or/bus, and then running across the other lane. This has turned a once mundane experience into an exhilarating test of the whits...

There are many cultural differences and similarities and much reflection to be shared very soon...

Next Post: Same Kind Of Different As Ni

P.S. I will take some more pictures of the campus when i have time--today it was rainy and dreary!

No dryers=innovative hanging in my room!

So many choices for cup noodles! Oh yeah, its big deal here!

Above: At present my favorite chinese dish-- 饺子 (Jiaozi)
Chinese Dumplings Brett! 20 for $1.00

My city for the semester...

Hong Kong--Who Are You?

2008-09-17T07:59:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm finally here. Xiamen Dashue (Xiamen University). After an introductory two weeks in the thriving metropolis of Hong Kong, I have been thrust into the East Coast Mainland of China-- a place with much humidity, few air-conditioners, and even fewer English speaker to bail me out when I make a fool of myself. But first we look back to Hong Kong...

Hong Kong was a marvelous city. Picture an Asian style NYC that is a lot brighter and cleaner... you're almost there. As someone who is fascinated with urban landscapes, I found myself in a near-euphoric state standing in front of quite possibly the most stunning skyline in the history of man. From the ferry from Kaiwloon (the mainland)to Hong Kong island you are literally surrounded 360 degrees by a towering skyline. At night this already dazzling city comes to life as the myriad of buildings reflect their lights across the bay. Every night at 8pm the entire skyline of HKG island participates in the largest light/lazer show in the world. Each building plays a key role in the fusion of lights across the city as the line between organic and manufactured slightly blurs.

This urban jungle is a prime example of Asia's economic and technological leadership in the next generation. The Free market and private enterprise are vigorously cultivated in this the "most capitalist place on earth" where even the banks print the money -- but even better than all of this-- there is a 7-eleven on EVERY STREET CORNER! I'm not gonna lie, a good portion of my meal stipend went to the local store where I tried out the various HongKongese flavors of slurpees! It did pay off however-- I made friends with the cashier (Ben) and on my last day he gave me a sweet pin celebrating the 10th anniversary of Hong Kong's independence from Britain. (I told him we knew how it felt) Hong Kong is a unique fusion of the East/West. Cantonese and English are regularly spoken in the streets, Chinese and American business flourish under the same economy. You can shop for a while at Gucci, get a latte at Starbucks, and then have a chicken foot dinner on the third floor of a side-street fresh seafood/stolen electronics night market! (can you guess which I did?) Too me, Hong Kong seems almost a cultural schizophrenic--unsure of even it's own identity. I imagine a Chinese could come to Hong Kong and find a climate almost incompatibly foreign...his frustration only matched by the American who feels the same. Perhaps it is this cultural confusion actually ingrained in the very history of Hong Kong (read more about it- it is fascinating) that I find so appealing. Coming from a multi-cultural background and understanding the pull of two worlds, I find that a city plagued with the same insecurities is both encouraging and comforting...

Encouragement and Comfort are too things that we all could go for a little more of as we struggle daily to do basic things communicated in our essentially non-existent Mandarin! I just view this as more of an incentive to study...there has already been many times that I have walked out of a store/restaurant confused and empty-handed. Needless to say the owners were probably just as confused!

*P.S. I was interviewed for a local Cantonese dating game show!
*P.S.S. More to come about Xiamen-- I need more time to process

Churchless Christianity?

2008-07-07T18:10:00.000-07:00

I first read about “Churchless Christianity” in one my textbooks for my church planting class last semester. Basically, this term refers to a contemporary religious phenomenon in India. This group is made up of Indian “followers of Jesus” who for various reasons have decided to forgo organized Christianity and remain within the religious and cultural confines of traditional Hinduism. Obviously this has sparked a lot of debate about whether or not these people are actually believers or not, and what can be done to promote a more culturally organic Christian gathering. This blog is not about that. I’m sorry if this peaked your interest, but you can learn more about this at http://www.ttpstudents.com/papers/ets/2005/Tennent/Tennent.html. (p.s. that is my sister’s missions professor)

If I am permitted, I would like to hijack this term and apply it to the modern American church. I am afraid that in the midst of our programs, pews, and preaching we have inadvertently created our own version of Churchless Christianity.

If you ask anyone you know the question: “What is church?” you will be sure to get a lot of interesting…and wrong answers. Even out of those claiming to follow Christ, it seems that very few understand what the structure and purpose of the New Testament church is intended to be. Many will tell you that the church is a place—the building down the road that still looks like 1956. Many will tell you that church is a thing you do—11am on Sunday mornings. Few will tell you that church is something you are—a redeemed family that lives, meets, and changes the world together.

Even a quick skim of the New Testament reveals just how vital fellowship and relationships are. The Church is by definition a family, a new society. Hebrews 10:24-25 gives us an example of believers meeting together: “And let us not consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.”

1 Corinthians 14:26-33 and countless other verses are further biblical examples of church meetings consisting of mutual edification, teaching, and encouragement. This idea is summed up in the Greek word koinonia or “fellowship, sharing in common, communion.” This word is used 20 times in the New Testament! Its first usage is Acts 2:42 at the birth of the church and the biblical authors use it throughout the text to describe Christian community and to teach on spiritual unity and love. It is obvious that Christianity is not an individualistic religion, but instead an intense, relational, at times messy, exercise in community. C. S. Lewis put it well when he said, “Christianity is not a lone ranger religion.”

Now with this biblical model in mind, think to the churches of America. As our culture becomes more and more lonely and anonymous…so do our churches. Most churches in my city are arranged around an hour long service a week. After singing a couple songs, we listen to a sermon, give our tithes, smile our perfect plastic smiles and then go home to our depressing, friendless individual lives. I realized I am stepping on some toes with this one here…but, is this really church? We have become experts in adapting these weeklong “worship services” to entertain and satisfy everyone who comes. I once heard someone saying that they enjoyed “church” because they could go in, sit down, enjoy the show, and then leave without having to really be involved with anyone! This anonymous approach to Christianity is leaving us with a crowd of people full of sermons and songs but no community or discipleship! I fear that millions across America are going to a church building and performing religious rituals every week without ever experiencing the true ekklesia radically proposed and envisioned in the New Testament.

Wait, wait—let me explain. We have already established how important the biblical idea of koinonia is to the New Testament church, but let me illustrate this. Our bible is replete with “One another” statements designed to teach on how to deal with the ever-complex issue of relationships. We are told to serve one another in love (Galatians 5:13), encourage one another (1 Thessalonians 5:11), live in harmony with one another (1 Peter 3:8), be kind and compassionate to another (Ephesians 4:32), offer hospitality and love to one another (1 Peter 4:9, 1 John 3:11). I have only skimmed the service on the amount of biblical advice for relationships. Here is the problem—with the American model of anonymous, consumer driven, large “churches” biblical community is completely avoided. German missiologist and church researcher Wolfgang Simson put in another way, “Most churches of today are simply too big to provide real fellowship. They have too often become ‘fellowships without fellowship.’” A couple weeks ago I was having a conversation about the eroding American church with my friend Carolina and I was hit with a profound thought. If this relational, “one another” koinonia is such a vital part to the church…can you really have church without it? Can we really reduce the divine institution of church down to an hour-long show every week?

With such a sub par new excuse for “church,” there comes some serious biblical and practical repercussions. The countless sections of the New Testament that deal with relationships, and especially all those “one-another” statements I mentioned before would be added to the list of Bible verses that are fun to read but have no real authority over our daily lives.

Brothers and Sisters, I’m afraid our Christianity is becoming increasingly “churchless.” As we continue to build our ornate buildings we have lost the true heart of the New Testament community. I am in now way suggesting that true ekklesia and koinonia is not experienced and relished in the traditional large church. I believe that men and women of God in all kinds of faith traditions are experiencing true biblical church…many not because of their church structures, but in spite of them.

I am disturbed about the increasingly anonymous and lonely nature of our churches. I am disturbed because I am in love with the idea of a redeemed community. I am disturbed because I love the New Testament church—the beautiful bride of Christ. Let us reclaim the true koinonia and join together to stamp out the virus of “Churchless Christianity.”

When It's All Said And Done...

2008-06-16T14:47:00.000-07:00

Well, we did it. 10,000 miles, 21 states, 3 countries, 440 gallons of gas, and 38 days later I am back in Roebuck South Carolina. I have been processing the past month for a couple days now and I think I am ready to reflect on the entire trip.

First of all, I think I am a better person for going on this trip. This distinction comes in many forms—this trip has made me a better traveler, and a better American. Before I dive deeper into the meditations, let me include a list of some short things I learned on the trip:

America is HUGE!
There are people everywhere (with the possible exceptions of New Mexico, Montana, and Wyoming.)
These people are just like you and I—they have lives, dreams, desires, emotions, feelings, and souls.
Anything tastes good wrapped in a tortilla
America is a lot less African American and a lot more Hispanic than I thought
Not everyone in California is a militant homosexual baby killing god-hater.
Ramen noodles are God’s gift to the financially challenged traveler
Home is truly an allusive thing—the more you travel, the more you don’t know where you belong
The financial gap between Mexico and The USA is both disheartening and grotesque
The religious, cultural, and political opinions of the South are both one of many
Slurpees are one of God’s greatest gifts
I never want to eat Ravioli again
God is an amazing artist
The dollar menus don’t change even when other prices do
Dreams do come true

A Better Traveler

Traveling is an art. Often oversimplified, travel is reduced to a journey from point a to point b. Traveling is interdisciplinary in nature—it requires cooperation from our many parts. Traveling is about learning…it is about exploring…it is about abandoning some things and embracing others. This trip is the first time I have gone from place to place with such frequency. Moving to a new city or town every couple of days has a profound impact on what kind of experience you have. This was the first trip I would classify as a journey—because of its epic proportions. There are things that come along with travel, like flexibility, understanding, and creativity. On this trip, when I wondered where I would sleep every night, I was stretched into new limits of both flexibility and creativity! As we traveled from city to city, and state to state, I was confronted with many questions and issues to wrestle with. Completely out of my comfort zone, I pondered, thought, learned, and challenged. And that is what travel is all about. This trip made me a better traveler.

A Better American

In my first post, I expectantly wrote about my desire to travel the nation to know America better. As Citizens of such a large nation, it is hard to get a grasp of what this country is all about while remaining in our regional and cultural bubbles. In downtown Greenville there is a quote etched on the sidewalk that I absolutely love and believe to be true: “The man that never leaves his country is full of prejudices.” This quote is an inflammatory one, but is obviously not completely relevant to a 40 day road trip across America! Here is where I would like to modify this quote for my own purposes: “The man who never travels his country is full of misconceptions.” Now before you think I am targeting you—the reader, you must know that I made this in reference to my own ignorance. Throughout my travels, I realized how much of America I was really missing out on. I am familiar with the attitude here in the south that often demonizes the Northeast and West coast as horrible, liberal places. I have heard people tell me that there is no reason to ever leave the south! This may reflect personal opinion, but it is nothing more a disgruntled regionalism—certainly not patriotism. America is an enormous place with unique regions, cultures, languages, and identities. To appreciate America is to appreciate this diversity—even if you do not agree with it.

I grew up putting together jigsaw puzzles with my family. This pastime was one of my favorite things to do and I always loved seeing the image being built to completion…piece by piece. In a strikingly similar fashion, my image of this nation is being built piece by piece. Driving across the vast New Mexico deserts is a piece. The endless urban jungle of Los Angeles is a piece. This puzzle is slowly being put together with other pieces…a conversation with a Hispanic immigrant…a night’s sleep in a truck stop…a hike at Yellowstone…a plate of fish and chips in Seattle. The profundity of America cannot be understated. Our history and identity is indeed complex…an unfinished puzzle on a table. Freely traveling across this nation has indeed taught me more about what it means to be an America. It has given me a deeper appreciation for where we live. As I look back on this trip during which I completed so much of this puzzle, I can truly say it has made me a better American.

There was one thing I was not completely ready for. I thought that such a huge and memorable trip would satisfy my wanderlust…at least temporarily. What I have found is the complete opposite—upon returning home I am stricken with that old familiar feeling. This feeling fills me with an extreme lust—a lust for adventure—a lust for travel—a lust for mystery—a lust to wander. I know already that I will never stop going. God has programmed me as a wanderer with purpose, and he will use me as such.

Last Stop--IHOP!

2008-06-11T12:56:00.000-07:00

So we decided to drive the last stretch of the trip straight-through. I know it sounds foolish...but I'm still alive, right? We left Keystone South Dakota after spending the day there with our friend Caroline whom we met on the trip to the Peruvian jungle almost exactly 2 years ago. For those who don't know, Keystone is the small town of about 300 people that is born again each summer thanks to the thousands of people all coming to see Mount Rushmore. Caroline is spending the summer working for a very creative ministry called Face to Face. Caroline and a group of other young believers will live and work alongside international students brought in on work-visas. As they work together in hotels the believers will share their faith and lifestyles with these international students. We had the chance to meet some of Caroline's team and eat dinner at one of their houses (free food!) After some prayer time, the three of us headed back to the van for an night full of driving! Exciting...right?

We pretty much drove the 28 hour trip from Keystone to Spartanburg straight through. Our last "real stop" was at the famous Kansas City IHOP. In order to prevent any further confusion, I'm not talking about the pancake house! The International House of Prayer was started in Kansas City in 1999 as a center for 24/7 worship and prayer. Ever since, this place has drawn men and women from all over the world to come pray for revival and a global move of God. I have heard about IHOP from different sources and it has always filled me with excitement. One of my favorite worship leaders--Misty Edwards--came up as an intercessory missionary and now is the main worship leader for the whole organization. A stop at IHOP seemed like an appropriate way to finish the trip. I wasn't that sure what to expect though...

We walked in the door of the building at about 10am on that Monday morning. The first thing I saw when I entered was a group of Koreans laughing and speaking excitedly in their native tongue. I like it already. We entered the sanctuary just as the next 2 hour "set" was beginning. There was an incredible sense of freedom in the worship room as about 200 people sang, prayed, searched the scriptures, sat in their seats, and danced the aisles. A group of singers led us in worship that was only interrupted by prayers from people in the crowd. Rooms lined the walls that gave the opportunity for more quiet or thematic prayer...I spent some time in the Great Commission Room. We sang and prayed for revival in Kansas City and across the world. We sang and prayed for deeper intimacy with Christ. We sang and prayed for God to breakdown the spirits of tradition and pharisaism so prevalent in the American church. We sang and prayed for the sick among us...

Honestly, my experience at IHOP was a refreshing one...and I think it came just in time. It is so easy to become discouraged and disillusioned with the local church, especially when the chief concerns tend to be the weekly bulletin and newest committee. As I worshiped alongside these brothers and sisters, they reminded me of what really matters. All around me were people caught up in a lovesick pursuit of intimacy. This group is just a part of the great army of young people that God is raising up to take the place of the countless churches all around America too blinded by their insignificant worries to notice their imminent deaths. IHOP is a place of passionate pursuit. This pursuit of intimacy with Christ can easily be drowned out in the politics and normalcy of our churches. It is time we throw everything else to the side and chase Jesus with a reckless abandon. God is moving in Kansas City. He is moving because he is being worshiped day and night...his followers are relentless. How relentless are we?

I'll say goodbye to my father, my mother
I'll turn my back on every other lover and
I'll press on yes I'll press on I am in love with You There is no cost
I am in love with You There is no loss
I am in love with You I want to take Your name
I am in love with You I want to cling to You Jesus
Just let me cling to You Jesus

--Misty Edwards
IHOP KC

check them out at www.ihop.org

stay tuned for the final thoughts on the whole trip...

The Indians Should Be Mad

2008-06-07T22:59:00.000-07:00

Yellowstone National Park: The pinnacle of the American wilderness. A symbol of the rugged American frontier. A uniquely beautiful place. A great money-making scheme for the government.

Now before I launch into one of my expected rants, I must tell you some about Yellowstone. This national park is so much for than just some mountains and trees protected by the law. Yellowstone is truly a unique place—complete with natural formations found nowhere else on earth. The thing most people probably think about first is geysers—the Old Faithful geyser to be more specific. Geysers, thermal pools, hot springs, and some crazy almost indescribable formations all can trace their beginnings back to lava activity right under the surface. As we were hiking around the thermal pools, the mist, brilliant colors, and extremely odd looking formations had me all but convinced I had left the planet. The landscape looked exactly like something out of C.S. Lewis’s space novel Out Of The Silent Planet. I really thought I was dreaming as I wandered through the misty trails. This mysterious natural phenomenon has been capturing the imagination of men and women for years.

Speaking of years, the Yellowstone area has a rich history. For almost 10,000 years various Indian tribes inhabited the land. The Sioux, Crow, Blackfeet, and countless other ethnic groups lived, worked, and hunted in the modern Yellowstone area. Now we must remember, this was back when the land was free, pure, and undefiled. This was before. Before the white man drunk on the liquor of manifest destiny came to rape the virgin land. Before our great “Christian Nation” forced hundreds of thousands of Indians into far less impressive reservations. Before Yogi the bear. That was before.

Now. Now Yellowstone is “protected” for tourists to come and marvel at natures wonders from the safety of precut hiking trails. Now the Indians are far enough away to not cause any trouble. Now you have to pay a $25 entrance fee just to enter the park. Now they sell wood for $6.80.

I hope you have caught on by now. If I was an Indian from any of these aforementioned tribes, I would be pretty ticked off (to put it mildly). To have an experience even slightly similar to that of my ancestors, it would cost me. For those keeping score at home I have broken it down:

Entrance Fee: $25
Camp-Site: $20
Wood+Kindling (gathering not allowed): $9.15

So in the same land where camping and exploring was once encouraged and free, it now costs $54.15 for a similar night’s experience. Yellowstone is a dazzling and marvelous place, and I am completely grateful that it is being protected for future generations to enjoy. I’m just doing my part to help you think and question. It might not be like it was back when the Indians ruled the area, but at least you can get an old faithful sweatshirt now…if you want to cough out $30.

Defeating Murphy

2008-06-07T22:09:00.000-07:00

Most of the times when I talk to someone from back home, there is usually one question they ask almost every time: “Are you guys still getting along alright?” There must be some common knowledge that when 3 best friends hit the road together for an extended period of time, personalities will clash. Well I have always been able to respond pretty positively to that question, but lately it might be a little different. Don’t be alarmed, we aren’t at each other’s throats with knives (yet), but after 33 days of constant contact…well I guess you could imagine. Like I said these arguments usually don’t consist of anything substantive, mainly just fighting about pointless things that we can’t even remember anymore. I’m pretty sure it was just arguing for the sake of arguing. I don’t even think it’s that I am annoyed with Luke and Myles; I think it is that I am annoyed with humanity. You see, I value alone time. I am a very social person, but I “recharge” during time alone. One negative thing about time on the road is the only alone you have is when you are asleep 2 inches from Myles—the worst possible person to sleep next to in human history (more info later). The thing is we are just tired. I am tired. I am not tired of travel but I am tired of filling my stomach with $.0.79 Beef Ravioli cans and dried Ramen Noodle packets. I’m not tired of seeing new sites, but I am a little tired of waking up every morning smelling like smoke and dead animals. So this is the tone that set the following story: I call it Murphy’s Law.

We pulled into Cody Wyoming after a long day of driving through the open Montana highways. After asking about the price for a hotel, the lady at the front desk kindly informed us that our rear tire was flat. All three of us trudged outside to take a look only to discover 2 other tires with mysterious gashes in their sides. After we put the spare on (that was extremely hard to find) we started calling around for prices. After getting a couple estimates of upwards of $400, we alarmingly starting calling our fathers for some clarification. My conversation went something like this:

Hey Dad…How much do 4 tires cost?

…Uh Why Son?

Well, we had a problem and these guys are trying to rip us off at like $105 a tire

Wow, if you can find it for that price, that is a pretty good deal

Silence

Son…you there?

Yeah…are you serious?

Yes. That is how much they cost.

Long Sigh. Alright man. Well thanks. We gotta go figure something out.

We definitely were not prepared for the “normal” prices of 4 new tires! The next morning at the tire store, the three of us wandering aimlessly around the lobby sipping coffee with the look of a New York Stock broker late in the afternoon of September 21, 1921. After the damage was done, Luke and Myles called into their bank accounts to find that they have a lot less money than they had expected.

That night we went to the local KOA campground with hopes for a cheap night’s sleep. A tent site here costs an amazing $34! Chocking back the vomit, Luke and I walked back to the car frustrated and angry. The nerve of these people to charge that kind of money for a piece of ground! Wow. We sat in the car for a couple of minutes before we just decided to forget about where we would sleep and just go to the local Laundromat and try to get the smoke smell out of some of our clothes with the quarters we could scrounge up from around the car. Jump to later that night. I have been reduced to beating driftwood with rocks by an abandoned lakeside to accumulate some kind of firewood. I felt like some kind of Neanderthal using the crudest of tolls…all to avoid buying firewood. I mean seriously…buying wood? I could never feel right doing that.

So maybe I am being a little melodramatic. But I’m in a mood and I deserve to be dramatic. No, but seriously. At what should have been the height of our financial distress, trip stress, and friendship strain, something else happened. Like Luke said, “At least when this happened, we weren’t mad at each other anymore!” So during the day and sitting around the fire we consciously decided to follow my mom’s advice: “Don’t let something like this ruin all the memories you have made so far.” Watching some of our videos and laughing about our stories we clung to all the good that happened so far. We could never forget the homeless drummer from San Diego named Dale Sullivan who first showed us heroine. Or how could we forget the Torres Family and our time in Madera California. Neither could I pass over the inspiration and beauty I experienced gazing at the snowcapped peaks at Glacier Park in Montana. We have so many stories and good times—I have even started to tell them all on this blog.

You are all familiar with Murphy’s Law: What can go wrong—will. Ever since the first time I heard about this “law,” I was fascinated because I thought it adequatly described different parts of my life. At one point Jamie Cummins and I almost named our mulch and lawn business, “Murphy’s Law Mulch.” We decided against it for obvious reasons. I named this post what I did because I think you can overcome the stress and pessimism of any situation. You can defeat Murphy. So we have a couple more days—we are actually getting home a little early (financial reasons.) Until then, however, we will be leaving it up—beef ravioli and all.

Oh Canada!

2008-06-04T22:40:00.000-07:00

Oh Canada! We left Seattle and headed north into the 2^nd largest country on Earth. Believe it or not I have been to 9 countries but Canada is not one of them! I was very excited about my second international crossing on the trip and it was…well…a little different that my experience in Mexico. We crossed the border and not that much changed. If it wasn’t for the speed limit signs in kilometers and the gas prices in liters I would have thought we were still in Washington State. It might be tempting to think that either Canada is just like America or it really doesn’t matter that much. I realize that in recent times Canada has been an easy target in American pop-culture for jokes of all kinds… I have heard this nation painted as a lackluster land full of people that were too lazy to shake off the tyrannous grasp of England. Homer Simpson was always comfortable just calling it “America’s Hat.” What I found in this nation was a great cosmopolitan city and a wildly beautiful wilderness unlike anything I have ever seen. The cultural differences here are slight yet significant. These Canadians are shaped by entire different history, an entire different national identity. They don't even have $1 bills...just coins named loonies! Yeah, that's what I was thinking.

It was very interesting to cross into another country with no major economic gap. Vancouver lacked no luxury common in any American city. All around I saw the same stores, the same cars, and the same wealth we are all used too here in the richest country in history. There were a lot of cool things about Canada. Vancouver was a very Asian city right on the coast surrounded by stunning snowcapped mountains. The countryside going east towards Idaho was extremely lush trees bathed in snow, rolling hills, majestic mountains, and wide clear rivers. This obviously was a rich country—both materially and naturally. Driving through Canada brought an important question to my mind: “What makes a nation great?” As Americans we have always heard that we live in the “greatest nation on earth.” When a short-term mission trip comes home and reports on their experience, you are bound to hear: “I just realized how blessed we are here. This is just such a great country.” What I am wondering is how do we judge this? What criterion are we using here? The parts of Canada I saw were just as “blessed” and beautiful as anything place in America…and the people were just as nice. We also say here that our “freedom” is what makes this country so great. Canada is another example of a country that has just as much freedom as us…even more in some cases. I can’t even get a hotel room in the state of Wyoming, but in Canada I am completely legal at 19! So many times we speak of blessings as purely a materiel thing…but does this alone make a nation great? Don’t get me wrong, I think America is great place—for a variety of reasons. Gary Stone (one of mentors) has lived in 4 different countries and warned me to never generalize about countries. He explained the best parts of Guatemala, why he liked living in Australia, the beauty of Ecuador, and the convenience of America. I think it is easy to look at America through rose-colored glasses, or maybe it is the green-colored glasses of the money in our wallets. Every country has its pros and cons—yes even the ol’ US of A! Yes we might have money, but what has it cost us? Yes America is great, but so is Canada. It’s especially great if you like the cold!

I'm Finally Here

2008-05-31T02:14:00.000-07:00

I finally here. After years of waiting and waiting I finally find myself in Seattle Washington. To you it might not seem like such a momentous occasion, but I assure you it is. I have always loved Seattle. For as far back as I can remember Seattle has captured my imagination. I can remember sitting at my old house when I was 12 years old watching Travel Channel specials on Seattle with my mouth wide open. It was this same house that was within walking distance from the Westside Librairy where I checked out my first book on Seattle. For years Seattle has had the honorary title of “My favorite city I’ve never been too.” The wind off the bay chills me. The call of the seagulls haunts me. The space needle enchants me. I’m finally here.

If you know me well, you know I hate the heat. My idea of “good” weather is rain, fog, and cold. There is something romantic about overcast weather. Rain and Fog…they just say so much more than sunny weather. I know I risk overusing this word, but rain is also very mysterious. Add the weather with the many hills in Seattle and you are set!

The weather has had some definite effects on the population of this great city. We stayed with a local friend of Luke’s who explained that Seattle is a very melodramatic city full of semi-depressed self proclaimed writers who smoke cigarettes and drink a lot of espresso. He is definitly right about the espresso—as soon as we got into the greater Seattle area it seems like we saw nothing but Espresso stands. Just from the amount of places we saw, one could assume that people here drink coffee more than they eat food! Combine the obsession over coffee with the apparent city-wide nicoteene addiction, and you have a interesting human achievement—drive thru cigarette/espresso stands. Yeah… I’m serious.

Another reason I was attracted to this city is because it is a uniquely beautiful blend of both the urban and the natural. In so many places around the nation it is either or. In Los Angles and san Fransisco it was all urban—nothing but concrete jungles. In most of New Mexico and Arizona it was all natural—nothing but desert roads and canyons. Seattle is a city where you can have both/and: it is a large city built with a distintively natural element. Seattle is built around a series of sounds and inlets from the nearby Pacific Ocean. Downtown Seattle overlooks the famous and scenic Puget Sound where local Seattilites (yeah it’s a real word) sea kayack, parasail, and boat. This area is not just the ocean either. The great thing about the Northwest is the mountains and woods run all the way to the coast. There are literally dozens of state parks in the greater Seattle area that offer a refuge from the fastpaced city life in the from of hiking and camping.

I never really knew how I would get here. For the longest time I was holding out hope that I would get bumped on a flight and get a free ticket to anywhere in the US—next stop Seattle! People always have a tendency to doubt your dreams, and so they would ask, “Matthew how do you think you are gonna get ALL the way over there?” Well this post is dedicated to all you doubters out there—I got here didn’t I? I never doubted that I would actually get to Seattle. It was never a matter of if, it was a matter of when. I guess this is the mindset that I want to keep for all my dreams. See, here is the thing. Lots of times when I tell people about my plans for travel or mission trips, people (usually older than me) will get this smile and slightly condescending voice and say something along the line of: “Well that’s just great Matthew! Be sure to get out all your fun and wanderlust before you get a “real life” and settle down.” I know, don’t worry—I never take this as real advice. If I even try to explain that I might not want the “average life,” these sort of people just smile and say something like “Well, that’s cute.”

Many people forfitt their dreams and plans somewhere along the road. I myself have seen the wild imaginitive eyes of some of my peers transformed into practical, boring ones—choked to death by the suffocating grasp of suburbia. People give up what they alsways wanted—maybe that is why so many parents live vicariously through their children. This is an appropriate time to mention that my parents have always been sone of my biggest supports and encouragers in every phase of my life so far. Everything I have done, whether it was a trip to the far reaches of the Peruvian Jungle, or trying to write a book, my parents have been write there telling me I can do it. I can never express how much that means to me and how much I love them for it.

I was looking back on my journal and I think this entry best describes my feelings:

I refuse to live by the rules of this fallen society. I will live out the goals and desires that Christ has placed in my heart—and have a good doing it! We have resorted to living out our dreams and visions through the medium of books and movies—its easier and more comfortable. I refuse to live a life of regrets because I let man’s obstacles get in my way. I will see the world and and worship with the saints. I will live a life of adventure! I will finish a book! I will get the most out of life and no one can stop me! AMEN! -- 1/29/07

Dreams are best experienced when they are fulfilled. My advice to everyone is live life, see the world, and make a difference! It feels good to finally do something I have always wanted to. So go…experience…travel…live…love…minister…be adventurous…get lost. It’s worth it.

Northern California—A Wondrous Place

2008-05-28T01:05:00.000-07:00

So it’s official: I love California. You could probably see from my previous posts that I thoroughly enjoyed Southern California for a variety of reasons. After a couple more days in the Northern part of this enormous state, I have found even more reasons why this is an amazing state. I always heard that Northern and Southern California were very different regions; almost like different states. The state is so diverse because it covers so much ground…I was talking to Meghan and she pointed out that California would be the equivalent of an East Coast state stretching from New York to Miami—that’s a lot of ground!

As we traveled up the Golden State, the most obvious change was temperature. Anyone who knows me would know that I willingly fled the suffocating heat of Los Angeles. Another major difference was the change of pace. Going from the largest metropolitan area in our country, our next stop was Yosemite National Park—talk about a drastic change. This was my first experience in such a vast, unadulterated wilderness. This entire park is roughly the size of Rhode Island! Camping and hiking in this gem gave me just a glimpse of what America might have looked like before it was colonized and “civilized.” I thank God for Teddy Roosevelt who spearheaded the conservationism movement and founded the national parks system.

From Yosemite we headed to the city by the bay: San Francisco. This is probably my favorite city so far. Build right on the bay, this beautiful city offers stunning views, mysterious hills, and glorious weather. I love hills. Hills can completely make a city. My favorite southern city is Birmingham Alabama, and probably about 70% of this has to do with the type and amount of hills in the area. I know this might sound stupid, but let me try to explain it. Hills are mysterious. They are intriguing. Hills hide the landscape to where you never know what might be just up road. Hills keep you guessing. They keep you imagining. A city full of hills is a city full of secrets and surprises. It is probably obvious why I loved San Francisco so much…it is defined by its hills! This city is home to the nation’s most crooked street and the nation’s steepest street (31.5% grade). There are no flat spots in this town—the streets go up…and then back down. I think a really good handbrake is a necessity to park anywhere here! Up and down the hills you can spot the classic cable cars that are packed with people that are probably too tired to walk up all the way home! The ethnic flavor of San Francisco is obviously different than LA. We ate dinner in the largest Chinese neighborhood anywhere in the world outside of China. This China-Town spans 16 square blocks and actually has its own city address: China Town, California. This is the biggest ethnic neighborhood I have ever seen, and it would be very easy to believe you were actually in China. I read that the first Chinese immigrants came in the early 1900’s and registered at the “Ellis Island of the West Coast” just off the bay. These first few men and women who left their countries in search for a better life paved the way for the tens of thousands that would follow them. It is just so interesting to look back into history and see what contributed to the identity of our cities today. There is a history behind the Spanish influence of San Diego, and there is a history behind the Asian influence of San Francisco. I mentioned before how cities are like brains—complex living organisms. Cities are also like computers—they build off of memory, learning from their past mistakes and victories. A city is not just the here and the now—it is a composite of the past and even future individuals that have/do/will create the personality and identity of that place.

San Francisco is amazing. Come here and experience it for yourself. I almost forgot to mention Golden Gate Bridge. It is the most beautiful bridge I have ever seen. The area around it at night was simply stunning. Oh yeah and the weather is great…you might think it is cold, so bring a light jacket.

From SF we went North on the famous Highway 1 towards Redwoods National Forest. This was an absolutely wonderful drive. We started out in Sonoma Wine Country winding through the mountain roads. After about 60 miles in lush green mountain passes, we came to a clearing in the road and there stood the majestic Pacific Ocean. Nowhere had I ever seen the Ocean and the Mountains meet like this…this was the beginning of the Pacific Northwest I have craved to experience for so long. For the next couple of hours we drove along the rocky coasts overlooking inlets, caves, and steep cliffs. That night we camped on the beach in the Redwoods National Forest. I have always wanted to camp on the beach because there is just something incredibly romantic and mysterious about the beach…especially at night. So we braved the fast blowing winds and low temperatures and pitched a tent right there on the sand! This was one of my favorite parts of the entire trip so far. The mountains and the coast are two of my favorite places. Both of these bring out the best in me—they both provoke the imagination. They both fill me with wonder. Coming from a part of the country where these locations are usually separated by hundreds of miles, I almost couldn’t contain myself in such a marvelous part of the globe.

Madera California 2

2008-05-27T23:27:00.001-07:00

So when I was posting this last thing about home and Madera, I totally forgot to put something crucial in! I wrote this the night after we worshiped at that church-- I was sitting in front of a beautiful river at Yosemite National Park...Luke and Myles were lost on a trail. This just came from me meditating on the experience of the day:

I walk, run, travel, journey
through rivers, mountains, streams, and cities
but where is home?
"Home is where the heart is!"
Then my home is divided into a million places that have captured my imagination
"Home is where your roots are!"
But I am a newborn sapling, and this soil is impenatrable
...so where is home?
What is MY constant?

And there She is--
I find this pure bride wherever I go
Although imperfect, she is beautiful--and redeemed
In her radiant character, I have found:
*a place to call home
*my universals
*myself
*the very face of God

I walk, run, travel, journey
through rivers, mountains, streams, and cities
but where is home?

My home is among the church of the redeemed
scattered across the globe

I'm Home Again...In Madera California

2008-05-25T22:48:00.000-07:00

We left the city of angels Saturday night with the intent of finding somewhere free to sleep. This word has become even more appealing to me on this trip as we learn to stretch our budget further than we expected. Going north from LA toward Yosemite National Park put us back in the, yup you guessed it, desert. We finally found some semblance of civilization in the form of a Pilot Travel Center in the booming metropolis of Madera California—population 18,000. On a side note, I’m gonna give you guys a free tip for any future road trips…truck stops are amazing. When you can find them, Pilot, Love’s or any other of the big truck stop chains are a great place to park for the night and get an “alright” FREE night’s sleep. If you can deal with the sound of truck engines and the glare of neon lights through your windows, no one will really mess with you for the whole night. Contrary to popular belief (and maternal belief), truck stops are not ultra-dangerous havens for criminals and “ladies of the night.” Mostly, there are full of normal people catching a break from the open road. And did I mention they are FREE?

The next morning, after a night of “sleep” rolled up in my sleeping bag in the passenger seat of the van, we decided to look for a church. We found a small, adobe style church off some desert road. I actually don’t remember the name of the church, but I do know it was an Evangelical Free Church. We wandered in right in time for the service and sat on a row by ourselves as the obvious visitors. We stood out even more because the church consisted of mainly 2nd and 3rd generation Hispanic immigrants (like much of California.) I honestly thought we would just leave and get right back on the road after church, but I was so wrong. Almost the whole church gathered around us, asking us questions, telling us about themselves, and making sure we knew Christ. These believers wanted to know all about where we were coming from, and all about where we were going. A little lady named Nina Torres came up and asked if we had lunch plans, and we very quickly assured here that we did not! We met her husband, her 6 kids, and Tony—the boyfriend of one her daughters. On our way out of the church to follow Tony to the house, we were offered more places to stay at by other brothers and sisters (too bad we had reservations at Yosemite that night!)

We ate lunch and spent much of the afternoon with the Torres family—laughing, sharing stories, and enjoying our connection with Christ. I was home. To explain what I mean by this, let me take you back to the night at Bottomless Lakes State Park that I wrote about in The Bittersweet Beauty of The West. Luke and I were talking about home. For me, the issue of home has always been complex and never been secure. I have often felt like a man without a proper “home” or proper “roots.” These feelings have been further aggravated by my years spent in the south—a land proud of tradition, family, and stability. A couple of years ago, I started to ask some important questions. “What is home?” “What makes home, home?” “Does home have to be a place, or can it be something else?” “Can home be an idea?”

Travel also aggravates confusion about home. As Luke and I sat and talked under those New Mexico stars, I had a small epiphany. My home is the church. Yes, I know that my home is in heaven. We are aliens and strangers here as we await the perfection. Meanwhile, as I remain here, behind enemy lines, I find home with my brothers and sisters. We are the homeless army of the redeemed, following hard behind the most famous homeless man in history.

Jump back to Madera California. Here I am eating bologna sandwiches and hanging out with my new brothers and sisters. I am home. I am just as at home as I am at home at 489 Moores Xing, Roebuck SC. (No hate mail please.) I am just at home as I am at home at G-12, North Greenville University. The beauty of this idea of home is you can find it EVERYWHERE! It was so refreshing to find a haven from the open road with some brothers and sisters. It was so refreshing to feel like I belonged somewhere.

So this post goes out to the Torres family, and Tony. Thanks for reminding me that I’m a part of something much bigger than myself.

I'm In The City Of Angels And Not One Of Them Speaks English!

2008-05-22T00:22:00.001-07:00

I hope by now you realize I am being sarcastic…and I hope you realize I am also in Los Angles. This city seems to so often get a bad wrap—too much traffic, too dirty, too nasty. The only real idea I had of LA was from Gangster movies like Training Day and 187. To tell you the truth I was a little wary about coming to this city because of the bad reviews I had heard…but armed with an open mind and a full tank of gas I found something different. Los Angeles is one of the most American cities I have ever been. No, I’m not being sarcastic. Seriously, I'm not.

Los Angeles is the world in a city. We passed through Korea Town, Little Tokyo, Filipino town, Little Mexico, and a myriad of other ethnic neighborhoods. Even the proper name of Los Angeles reveals that it is not your average American city. The full name of the city is El Pueblo de nuestra Senora, la reina de Los Angeles, or The town of Our Lady, The Queen of the Angels. What makes America different than other nations? What has contributed to our strength and success? We are nation of immigrants. We are the melting pot. We are America. My days in Los Angeles also made me think of one of my other favorite cities, another very American place. In this city, there is a symbol that stands in the harbor to remind all generations where we come from.

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Los Angeles is a city that encompasses these words captured in the statue of liberty. Languages, cultures, and races rush past in a whirlwind. Many might doubt the true “Americaness” of such a place, but I beg to differ. We ate a small taco shop in Pasadena in which we were the only nonhispanics. In a conversation with the lady who made our food, I found out that she was a 1^st generation immigrant from Mexico. The interesting thing, however, was that she had been living in the US four 5 years before I had ever been born! So…which one of us is more American? Am I more American because I was born here, or is she more American because she has lived here 18 years longer than I have?

Pasadena is a beautiful little area of Los Angles that is considered on of the most diverse areas (ethnic/economic) in the entire nation. Luke and I took a tour of Fuller Theological Seminary and I had a glimpse of what may be my home in 2 years. I’ll be praying about that… Not only is LA incredibly diverse in it’s inhabitants, it also has so many different kinds of neighborhoods, beaches, and area attractions! Anything you want to do, you can do here in LA. If you want to eat Afghani food, go to a baseball game, and then top it off with a trip to the oxygen bar and Ethiopian coffee shop…you can! We took advantage of the many things LA has to offer by visiting Hollywood, Santa Monica Pier, Dodgers Stadium, China Town, and downtown (aka Hispanicland!)

On a side-note, it was a pleasant thought to be in the birthplace of Christianity’s fastest growing group worldwide—Pentecostalism. This vibrant form of our faith was born right here on Azusa Street a little over 100 years ago. Due to it's extremely fast growth in such a short amount of time, some sociologist are claiming this to be the most significant social movement in history! Pentecostalism is spreading like wildfire all over the world; it is a symbol of our faith’s amazing adaptability. One of the most diverse religious experiences ever grew out of this very diverse city…I don’t know, that just seems appropriate to me.

We are a nation whose official language is none. Our official race is other. We are defined by the inability to define us. We are America. So the next time you find yourself talking bad about “all them foreigners” coming over here speaking other languages, just remember this is NOT your country--it is OUR country. Es nuestro pais.

Come to LA and you’ll know what I mean.

A Wall That Divides

2008-05-20T18:43:00.000-07:00

It’s true what they say about San Diego…it is an absolutely amazing city. Right downtown there is a billboard that self-boasts “America’s Finest City.” This claim is hard to doubt taking into account the amazing weather, beautiful beaches, and rich history. One thing I especially enjoyed about San Diego was the spanish/hispanic influence on the city. This is one place where your average “English-Only” opponents of immigration could not really make a big fuss. San Diego, along with many other cities along the California coast, was founded as a Catholic mission by Spanish priests in the 1500’s. Far before the west coast knew any Anglo culture at all, Spain was exerting her influence across this land. These classic Spanish elements have blended with their younger cultural cousins, the Hispanics, to create a very fun city where cheap taco stands are far easier to find than little-league baseball teams or apple pie. Most people probably would not think of San Diego as a border town, but that is indeed what has contributed too much of her identity. About 20 miles south of downtown San Diego is Tijuana

Mexico

, or as the locals call it, “TJ.”

This was the first time that I have ever walked across an international border, and it was one of the most interesting and thought-provoking things I have done yet on this trip. Leaving the American side of the border, I saw stores like Costco, Ross, Toys-R-Us, 7-Eleven. I saw nice cars driving on nice streets with no potholes or trash; I saw streetlights, I saw nice looking people wearing nice looking clothes spending their nice looking green dollars. I saw wealth incarnate. Crossing the border, many things were crossing going through my mind. Did you know that Mexico and the US have the highest economic gap of any two contiguous countries in the history of the world!? Just imagine that. Many from Tijuana have come to the United States, leaving the rest to look across the border at a family of Jones's they can never keep up with.

When I finally reached Mexico, I was amazed at what a border can keep out and keep in. At its most basic definition, a national border is just an imaginary line…a man-made tool to divide and claim ownership. Here I am on the other side of the border. I see stores like Tacos Deliciosas, Farmacia Bety, Bar y Discoteca Mi Tijuana. I see broken up cobblestone streets worn down from the taxis, and buses transporting the masses that rely on public transportation. I see beggars, and street kids playing soccer. I see poverty incarnate. It is amazing to see what this imaginary line can divide. The change that I experienced walking a few hundred feet was so drastic it was almost nauseating. Things do not naturally stop at preset lines like many expect them to. This violent division of culture and economy seemed so artificial, so forced, so unnecessary. It was Luke’s first time in Mexico and he made the comment that, “This border is more economic than anything else.” The Spanish language and culture is a part of our national fabric, and it continues to seep disseminate across the entire United States. This border is not chiefly one of language or even culture; it is one of dollars and pesos. It is exactly this division that fuels immigration into our nation…and my personal opinion is that until someone sees the other side of the argument, they should reserve judgment. Cultures and border-towns are much more complicated than convenient campaign rhetoric. Talk of “safe borders and deportation seem to ignore the families and human beings that are looking for the same standard of living we somehow think we deserve, but these people do not. In my four hours spent in the beautiful city of Tijuana, I was convinced even more of the idiocy of a plan to build a wall across the entire Mexican border. Aside from being completely impractical, this idea reeks of ethnocentrism and fear. It kind of makes me think of the kids in 1^st grade that gets mad, takes his toy back, and goes to sit at another lunch table right after he yelled, “We aren’t friends anymore.” Frankly, I think this country is just a little more mature than such an idea.

I have a question for America. What are you afraid of? Are you afraid of new ideas, different languages, or darker skin? Are you afraid of change? Are you afraid that someone will threaten your wealth? There are many fears to choose from. There are also fears on the Mexican side. A fear of poverty. A fear to not have enough food on the table. A fear to not have the medicine needed. A fear of being lost in the wake of their northern neighbors. There are many fears to choose from…that is why these men and women are building your houses, watering your lawns, and making your food.

I would like to close this reflection with some lines from a song by the very famous Mexican band Los Tigres Del Norte. In this song entitled El Muro, (the wall) these artists comment on the American idea of a border wall:

Oiga señor presidente (Hey Mr. President)
Mejor construya un puente (It would be better to build a bridge)
que somos aquí mucha gente (Because there is a lot of our people here)
Y gente inteligente (And these people are smart)

Así cono nos ve en el campo (The same way you see us in the country)
También nos ve en las oficinas ( You also see us in the offices)
Y usted sabe que nos necesita (And you know that you need us)
En su equipo y asta en la cocina (On your side, and even in the kitchen)

El muro el muro, el muro, que duro (The wall, the wall, how hard)
que duro lo brinca solo el canguro (How hard, only a kangaroo could jump over it)
Lo brinca solo el canguro (Only a kangaroo could jump over it)

A todos los jefes de estados (To all the bosses of the States)
Les enviamos este urgente recado (We send to you this urgent message)
que eduquen a sus pueblos (That you educate all your towns)
Para que mejoren sus sueldo (So they can improve their wages)

que quiten todos los muros (May you tear down all the walls)
que se habrán las fronteras (And open up the borders)
que podamos conocernos (So we may know eachother)
Y cambiar nuestras ideas (And change our ideas)

Respetemos y abramos los corazones (We need to respect one another and open our hearts)
que los muros de la mente (Because the walls of the mind)
son el peligro inminente (Are the most imminent danger)

El muro (el muro, el muro que duro)
que duro (lo brinca solo el canguro)
Lo brinca solo el canguro

Vegas Pictures

2008-05-17T10:09:00.000-07:00

Here are some more pictures from our Vegas trip and the ultra-nice room we were blessed with!
This is actually a video walk-through of the room too, it is a little grainy, but HEY, its the best I could do!

VEGAS BABY!

2008-05-15T11:44:00.000-07:00

After many, many days on the open road, my urban thirst was finally quenched through the city of Las Vegas, Nevada. It may surprise you that I am not going to take the clique and probably expected route and write with disgust of the blatant sinfulness of this modern day Nineveh. Yes Las Vegas is sinful, just like every other city. And yes the people here are sinful, just like you and I. Here I am going to take a different route in my meditations on Sin City. Of course there is a debate as to whether Las Vegas is a real city or not. Maybe you have never doubted the city-status of Las Vegas, but I would consider myself an urban connoisseur of sorts, and I have wrestled with this question for quite some time. Some would point to the mere population of Las Vegas and say “Matthew, of course it’s a city!” To me, however, a city is more than just a large group of people living close to each other; a city is a living organism far greater than the sum of its parts. These living creatures must be studied, experienced, and understood with all the scrutiny required of natural wildlife. It may already be clear why there has been some doubt in my mind of the true “citiness” of Las Vegas. Built completely around tourism and gambling you can tell this place is not like most American cities. One word that adequately describes Las Vegas is stimulating. Here, all senses are constantly catered to in a physically exhausting way. This place is a complete nightmare for epileptic suffering from ADD! The strip is full of dazzling lights, sounds, and miniature replicas of the world’s greatest attractions: The Empire State Building, Paris, the Egyptian pyramids… One word that word adequately describes Las Vegas is artificial…

At first glance, there is absolutely no reason for Las Vegas to be where it is. There are no harbors, no rivers, no lakes, no mountains, and no natural resources of any kind. In real cities, there is usually a natural reason to spring up where they do. The only difference between the Las Vegas streets and the lonely New Mexican highways are the mass produced casino sights and sounds lighting up the desert night. So is Las Vegas even a city? Upon further reflection and a little Nevada state history, I answer with a resounding YES.

As we entered Vegas, the buildings, stores, and people all around flipped a switch inside of me. I am more than just a man who loves cities; I believe that people were meant to live close to each other. Nature and solitude are desirable and inevitable (see last post), but life should be lived in community. The feelings that Vegas evoked in me after so much time in the desert is the very reason that this city exists. Follow my logic here…the very location nature and location of Las Vegas exhibits man’s powerful need and universal ability to congregate. I learned from Michael Myers, Luke’s uncle we stayed with downtown, (his real name) that contrary to popular belief Las Vegas was not formed aimlessly in the desert. Vegas was started as a small railroad town centered completely around the economy of the railroad. This was one of a few stops on a long desolate trip where people could stop, eat, drink, and just be together. When the railroad left, the residents of this small town were left with no means of employment. Gambling was legalized as a last-ditch effort to revitalize the economy, and the rest is history. Although this place was not formed around the more “traditional” city landmarks, to me this story exhibits the purest of urban desires—the need just to be together. On our local tour given by Mike, he told us that Las Vegas is one of the nation’s fastest growing cities, there are apartment complexes going up all over the city to fit them all. This urban oasis in the land of deserts continues to draw people in…

One reason for my overall optimism about Las Vegas would be the incredible luck we experienced at the MGM Grand Hotel & Casino. We originally had a regular suite reserved for the night (one of our few splurges), but when Myles went to check in, the concierge upgraded us to the highly coveted Celebrity Skyloft Suites. Listed on the 2008 Best Hotels in the world, the skylofts are on the top floor of the hotel overlooking Vegas. We had our own elevator, with a special key card to even get to this private floor! Our room was two stories and 1,400 square feet. There were 5 plasma screens in the suite, including two in the bathroom. We had a huge walk-in shower/sauna, overflow Jacuzzi bathtub, and walk in closet. Our personal butler brought us what we needed and refilled all the complimentary drinks we consumed. The coolest thing about the room was the “smart remote” that controlled absolutely everything in the room. From this one remote I could control the free on-demand movies, the drapes, the air conditioner, the lighting in all the rooms, and my i-pod on the surround sound speakers. It was honestly the best hotel I have ever seen and probably will ever see. I was very glad for this little bit of luck that probably enabled me to see Vegas through more rose-colored glasses than usual.

More pictures will come later... we have to check out of the hotel

What's So Grand About The Canyon?

2008-05-14T20:41:00.001-07:00

Hidden in the vast Arizona desert is a small and peculiar community of people from all over the world gathered around a massive hole in the ground. The better known term for this place is The Grand Canyon… and grand it is. I read that the Grand Canyon is still the #1 tourist attraction for Americans traveling within the United States, which is a surprising and encouraging statistic for those of us who still appreciate the natural beauty this country has to offer. The minds behind Grand Canyon National Park have really milked this tourist attraction for all its worth and transformed this remote park into a small city. There are hundreds and hundreds of camp sites, a general store, post office, train/bus systems, and more souvenir shops than you can count. The campgrounds were probably the most interesting place in the whole park. Every night I took a walk around the campsites just observing the various groups of people that had come from literally all around the world to marvel at the Grand Canyon. Watching people set up their tents, make fires, and park their RV’s seemed to be a very American experience.

Now, the actual Canyon is beyond description. Neither pictures nor words can capture this mystery and beauty of the Grand Canyon…it is truly a surreal and spiritual experience. Nothing has ever made me feel so small and insignificant! The depth and layers of the canyon are indescribable and look more like a painting than anything else. It is 10 miles from rim to rim…but it is a 240 mile drive to drive around! The first day we just admired from the rim, but the next day we decided to hike a couple miles into the Canyon for a new perspective. We hiked 1.5 miles downhill into the Canyon and it seemed like we barely even moved! The depth of the Canyon is so incredible…we wanted to keep hiking but the 1.5 miles back uphill was enough for us! You may see these pictures and be awed, but you have to experience the Grand Canyon firsthand to understand the unparalleled beauty present in this place.

Every year, hundreds of thousands of sojourners flock to this center of simple, strong, natural beauty. As knowledge and technological progress continues to grow completely unabated, the human race cannot eliminate their need and desire for natural beauty. This generation of Americans has more spending money and free time than any other group in the history of the world. With this decadent generation, in the world of wireless internet, i-pods, and high definition entertainment, what continues to capture our national imagination? Even more than their predecessors, many of these Americans can be found far from the lights of technology, reimagining beauty with the help of Mother Nature. No one needs to worry; the Grand Canyon will never lose its allure…no matter how “advanced” we become as a society. Everyone needs to marvel at nature and feel like they are a part of something bigger than themselves. This is the inherent need that drives the incredible tourism of Grand Canyon.

And for me, as a follower of the Canyon’s Artist, I celebrate the draw it has on my fellow man.

Chicken Fajitas--Grand Canyon Style!

The Bittersweet Beauty of The West

2008-05-11T22:36:00.000-07:00

Although I alluded to this on my Roswell post, I really don’t think you guys realize just how barren and empty this land out here is. For years I have thought that Spartanburg was rural, but these past couple of days traveling through the southwest have helped me realize what rural really means. Just to offer a point of reference, on the list of “area” attractions for Roswell NM, they listed Carlsbad Caverns. This might not seem like a big deal, but after driving 100 miles to get to the caverns, I realized that a local equivalent of this would be to list downtown Columbia on a list of area Greenville attractions. I guess when there is just nothing around, people are more willing to drive long distances for any semblance of civilization. At one point we had to turn around and get gas in the town we had just passed because our GPS told us that there were no other gas stations for over 60 miles! For the first time I think I understand why underground polygamist cults seem to be so prevalent in the southwestern deserts…these people are just bored and have nothing else to do! (By the way, another polygamist cult was busted right here in New Mexico during our stay.)

There is, however, a mysterious beauty in such seclusion. On Wednesday night, we stayed at Bottomless Lakes State Park about 15 miles away from anything you would recognize as a road. When we pulled up at the information office to pay for the night, there was not a soul in sight. We wandered around aimlessly for a couple of minutes and I began to wonder if indeed the rapture had happened and for some reason I had missed the boat. We finally just stuffed $10 into a mail slot, and made our way to a secluded desert camp site overlooking a small lake. The extreme seclusion we experienced for the rest of the night as we talked, played baseball, ate, and thought was indeed a refreshing experience. I love to be around cities, and I am most drawn to urban areas, but every now and then we just need to get alone with our thoughts. In the commercialized frenzy that is American culture, virtues like solitude and silence have been almost completely lost, but they are extremely important. In his book Telling the Truth, Frederick Buechner comments on the incredible spiritual importance of silence and meditation. He explains that silence is beneficial to the individual Christian and the community of believers but we almost never allow it in our churches “because it says too much.” Lit up by the unusually bright stars, and feeling like we were the only people on the earth, we had a great night of conversation about the complexities of home, travel, God, and the female brain. Do not be fooled, there are some aesthetic and spiritual experiences to be had in the vast deserts of New Mexico.

We are in the way to the Grand Canyon now and the scenery looks…the exact same. All benefits of silence aside, if I don’t see some people soon, even I am going to look into the social benefits of a local apocalyptic death cult.

The Truth is Out There...

2008-05-07T14:48:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm finally here...
ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO

Growing up as a conspiracy theorist and avid X-Files fan, Roswell has always been a sort of Mecca for me. After hours and hours of nothingness, a small town finally emerges from the New Mexico. The town of Roswell has managed to pour some life into their anemic economy by encouraging the recent alien hysteria beginning in 1947. Before you judge this roadside American attraction as just another cheesy Gatlinburg clone, you need to actually come here and experience the wealth of scientific knowledge that abounds here.

I have believed in aliens for some time now, both for logical and theological reasons (see C.S. Lewis' On Religion and Rocketry), so Roswell did not make me believe anything new, it has only reinforced my belief in extra-terrestrials. The UFO Conspiracy museum filled me with knowledge of "The Roswell Incident," and further undermined my trust in the government. On the highway leading to Roswell, there is nothing... not even a gas station in the last 60 miles of the journey. Driving on these extremely desolate roads, Luke and I had a revelation. I'm not sure if anyone else has ever come to this logical conclusion... but I will lead you through it. If the aliens are dealing with overpopulation on their home planets, it would only make sense that they would come to New Mexico in hopes to colonize! Flying in a UFO above this landscape, it could be very easy to confuse the New Mexico countryside for some completely empty place to settle down and raise a family. I am almost completely convinced that while driving we passed by some alien colonies right off of the interstate. There could have been aliens living all over this area, and no one would ever know! Personally, I don't harbor any bad feelings towards the aliens that came to New Mexico on July 4, 1947, I mean they were just looking for a better life! Thinking about the awesome amounts of empty space we have in this country, I also wonder why we are so hostile towards other aliens that come to a new land with seemingly plenty of space looking for a new life? Well thats another post for another day...

I know some of you are probably rolling your eyes and thinking, "I hope Matthew doesn't really believe in aliens." Well I'm sorry to let you down, but only some of this post is written tongue-in-cheek. People always ask me, "Matthew why would you ever believe in aliens!" Aside from the wealth of evidence and personal testimonies, I have always thought it extremely arrogant to just assume that we are the only intelligent creatures in existence. Judging from some of the truck stops we have stayed in, I might have to debate even the intelligence of homo-sapiens! It just makes sense to me that in such a massive galaxy full of universes full of suns and planets, there are other creatures that think, build, play, work, reproduce, and pray like you and I. A Christian faith and a belief in aliens are not contradictory but I would agree with C.S. Lewis that it is instead complementary. (See Lewis' On Religion and Rocketry.) So the question I would pose is, "Why do you not believe in aliens?"

Checking in from the UFO capital of the world,
hoping to make you think...

Roswell Public Library
Wednesday, May 7

Crossing the Mississippi

2008-05-06T20:57:00.000-07:00

Just for the record, I am sitting in a parking lot of a semi-sketchy Amarillo Texas roadhouse using their free wi-fi. It is good I found internet, because I was beginning to think they didn't have internet out here...

Anyways, here are some thoughts from our first couple of days...

After the first of many long trips in the car we arrived in the great city of Memphis Tennessee. Driving through the city, the most obvious landmark was of the course the Mississippi River. This river is so much more than just a river. Aside from being a major vein of American trade and commerce for centuries, this natural landmark is a symbol of westward expansion. In those days of heightened travel and desire for cheap land, thousands of pioneers braved the mysterious and dangerous path westward. This river was a “point of no return” of sorts. For these men and women, to cross this river was to forsake all comfort and to embrace the unknown. The West is an incredibly important idea in American culture. As an east-coast dweller, I have only experienced the magnitude and wonder of the west through history books and personal accounts. This desire for adventure, gold, and more land has fueled this nation to her present- day development and decadence. Driving on this incredibly flat road in Oklahoma, I just cannot help but think that some of my American forefathers who blazed this path were indeed running from something. Now of course there has to be something said for the economic benefits of such an excursion, but I would imagine that like their modern day equivalents, many of the pioneers were running either from or to something. Every generation needs an opportunity to run away from everything they know. Everyone needs an opportunity to discover life on their own. Everyone needs an opportunity to truly discover themselves in new places. In some cultures this type of discovery is encouraged and almost mandated. I once shared a bunkbed with an Australian author in a New York City hostel, and he shared with me how most young people there will take a year-long sojourn. Usually alone, this trip is understood to be vital to the development of the youth. It is indeed tragic when the young are not encouraged to leave, live, and learn long away from their loved ones. I have had many opportunities for such an educational journey, dating back to my first trip to Guatemala at fourteen years old. For me, however, I have grown accustomed to such travels. Perhaps like my pioneer predecessors, the idea of the open road and new places have become quite intoxicating. This intoxicating freedom is rampant here—on I-44. We are driving towards a destination I’ve never been, on roads I’ve never seen, and I have no idea where I’m sleeping tonight. This land, however, is familiar with such journeys. Ours will not be the first nor the last story in a long chain of Americans running westward.

“I’m leaving today, because for me to leave is to stay.”

Leave

2008-04-30T22:30:00.000-07:00

"And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing, about getting something beautiful born inside of you, about learning to love a woman or a man, about learning to love a child, about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love other more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it? It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.

I want to repeat one word for you: Leave

Roll the word around on your tongue a bit. It is a beautiful word, isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted it to be. And you will not be alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed."

--Donald Miller
Through Painted Deserts

My First Date With The United States...

2008-04-30T19:15:00.000-07:00

Like so many things in my life, I have had a very love/hate relationship with these great United States. Raised a hemisphere away, America was always a part of who I was, but not a big enough part for me to muster up any significant patriotic display. Growing up, America was just the big rich country where I could get find baseball cards and get free refills. Once I finally moved here, my impression of this country did not change much. Perhaps it was the ignorance of global issues that I encountered here, or maybe it was the aspects of Southern culture I just couldn't understand, but what ever it was, I just didn't think America was all that it was cracked up to be. After I became serious about my relationship with Christ, I was given the theological justification for my apathy towards the homeland: "If we are all aliens here on earth, why does it even matter where we are from?" (1 Peter 2:11)

AP US History in 12th grade was the first time in my life that I actually became interested in things about this country. It is during this semester that I found a passion for learning about the American Revolution, the westward expansion, the presidency, and FDR. I actually started to feel the first few warning signs of (dare I say) patriotism? The problem is, most of what I know about American culture comes from my time spent here in the Bible Belt. That would be like getting all of your knowledge about females from one experience with an out of style, loud, annoying, yet mildly attractive ex-girlfriend. The United States is HUGE! Each region of this country is equally important and necessary to the overall national identity. I have traveled around the south and north, but now it is time to follow the logical conclusions of "manifest destiny" and head westward. On Monday, Luke, Myles and I will head out on a 40 day roadtrip across this great nation. This type of trip is the only way to really experience America in it's fullness. Stops in cities like Las Vegas, San Diego, Los Angeles, San Fransisco, Seattle, Portland, and Sacramento will show me firsthand the complexities and struggles of American urban life. Natural wonders like The Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Yosemite, Glacier National Park, Olympia National Park, and Carlsbad Caverns will fill me with wonder at the Creator of this amazing beauty. It is only appropriate that I recently discovered the beautiful art of jazz--America's first indigenous music. No other music could do a better job narrating the American open road than the wide open improvisation of Louis Armstrong, Dizzie Gillespie, Charles Mingus, and Thelonious Monk. Armed with a large jazz repertoire, I also plan on traveling with one of the greatest truly American writers--Henry David Thoreau. The musings of Walden and Civil Disobedience will haunt and inspire my thinking on the open road.

I'm going out to find America--but more importantly I'm going to find myself. Travel is a man's best teacher, and I am convinced that travel has less to do with where you go and more to do with why you go. So I am going to discover the beauty of this country, but also to rediscover the diversity that first empowered this "American experiment." I am going to meet new people, see new places, and attempt to look at things from new perspectives. I am going to get away from the people and places I know--to be alone. I am going to learn more about myself; maybe even to find pieces of myself that I left in places that I have not yet been. I'm going because I can't stay still.

So here I come America, your estranged son. I'm coming with an open mind, and I can only hope you meet me with open arms...