In training for a 5 km swim to Goree Island (November 1) today I had my first ocean swim training at Oukam beach. I went with a colleague – Tod – who is part fish so I could hardly keep up. I was extremely nervous – just a miniscule sac of organs in an ocean world ready to swallow me without hesitation or regret. The water was dark, salty, and – in my mind – unpredictably swaying. I was scared to trust myself to be at ease with the strokes of my arms, the kicks of my legs, the breathes of my lungs. The depths of the waters seemed endless, uncharted, and impenetrable. What the hell am I doing here, I thought, no, I mentally shuddered.
As I struggled to follow Tod – psychologically first, then physically – Mother Nature began to laugh at me. I swam by schools of fish that were unsympathetically unimpressed with my homo sapien sapien superior existence. We came across a tiny jellyfish that was wondrously wading at ease in the massive Atlantic without a qualm or worry in the world, while I drudgingly tread the waters.
We reached the beginning of a cove area that contained a significant amount of plastic trash. The ocean still swayed, unfettered. If I could understand its speech, I wondered, what it would say?
On our return swim to the shore Tod suggested that I may want to avoid the area where the surf breaks. Sounds good, I said, I’ll follow you. 15 minutes later I found myself in the area where the surf breaks. Rocks were all around, covered in porcupine-ish sea urchins, while I swallowed cup-full after cup-full of salt water from the breaking waves.
After an hour (1 mile) of swimming, we reached the shore. Standing, I gazed out upon the water in awe of the force and splendor of the ocean. Looking down, I noticed that one of the two hookworms, which temporarily inhabit my left foot, had moved all the way from the toe next to my pinky toe all the way to my big toe. I wondered what Mother Nature had in store for me next…
27 September 2009
07 September 2009
Breaking fast with friends and reflecting upon my own metaphysical thoughts...
The often immediate response of many when I tell them I live in a predominately Muslim country usually consists of at least one raised eye brow and a, “is it safe?” Certainly, I am generalizing, but to those with little exposure to borders outside of their own city, county, or country, and/or to those high on CNN or Fox News, this might be a reality.
We are all, uh, how shall I say, victims of our environment…or is it products?
In theory, the philosophical nominalist view of the things in our world (universals are only that way because of the language by which it is defined, thus, a tree’s leaves are only green because that is the name we give it) is ideal, but the realist view seems to take control of our minds (I know a Muslim is _______, _______, and _______ because that is how I know I see it). I certainly had my own misconceptions about the Muslim faith before having lived with my Turkish brother and my African brothers and sisters and consequently altering those perceptions.
Ramadan began here in Dakar two weeks ago. This is the month of the Islamic calendar in which people of the Muslim faith fast from dawn to sunset. The fast is usually broken at sunset with sweet dates and juice or water – a tradition started by the prophet Muhammad. After the fast is broken there is a time for prayer and personal reflection and later a meal is served and shared among family and friends.
I was fortunate enough to be invited to break fast with some of my Muslim sisters and brothers recently. As difficult as this fast is for many – teachers teach and construction workers build without eating or drinking anything throughout the day – the overwhelming response is that it is not only a necessary and essential element of the Islamic doctrine, but one of great personal and societal importance and significance.
There are various ways to “get” the month of Ramadan and I’m sure each Muslim will have their own specific reason for why it is significant to them. I’ve heard some state that the month of Ramadan is a time to connect with Allah in a new or refreshed light, with a new and refreshed mentality and heart. It is a time to reflect upon sins committed and to seek forgiveness and to renew their commitment to Allah. I’ve also heard that Ramadan is about the sacrifice and the struggle through a temporarily impoverished state and about understanding the constant struggles that many undergo throughout an entire year or lifetime.
I completely admire their reverence in this practice. My brothers and sisters have freely chosen to sacrifice the core and quintessential elements of life as a gesture, an act, a deed, a personal commitment of acknowledgment to a supreme and omnipresent being and to the societal cry of humankind.
In thinking about my own American Christian background and upbringing I can’t help but to chuckle (loudly and hysterically) at the lack of reverence many of my American Christian brothers and sisters have. Growing up in the Lutheran church, I spent countless weekends performing some type of service act, whether it be Meals-On-Wheels or Habitat-for-Humanity. However, I do believe American Christianity on a whole has become diluted with Christian and Religious jargon and lingo that has polarized the idea of what it is to be called a Christian without the true discipline, acts, and reverence necessary to be a Christian. Some Christians would reject this notion, claiming that all you need is Jesus in your heart to be Christian. While I am not here to judge or disclaim anyone’s personal faith, we can certainly look at models and examples within society to suggest a point.
Our climatic American Christian “holiday” has been saturated with the act of commerce and the gesture of gift giving. In place of the sympathizing and humbled hearts are the distracted minds and fidgety hands impatiently waiting to bask in the warmth of their not-yet-satisfied want.
America’s push into 21st century consumerism has turned churches into state of the art sound-system controlled mega-churches living and breathing off the shear number of “saved” members (and tithes), rather than the community based home centered around the core value of service to others.
Renewed Christian conservatism has quieted intellectualism, taken a dumb-it-down approach to past and present American societal struggles (claiming God can and will make all things possible), and alienated the “other” in a game of good versus evil. To be not Christian is not to be in America.
I have found it gravely difficult to settle in one church for many reasons. I refrain from calling or labeling myself a ________________, rather I would prefer to live life with a dedication to service and a keen awareness to my societal surroundings. I do not intend to be prophetic to anyone, but I do hope humility and a humbling of sorts floods your heart as mine has been through witnessing the awe and reverence of the act of fasting during Ramadan by my African brothers and sisters. For my own mental well-being I feel much safer here in the Islamic stalwart city of Dakar, Senegal than in the many Consumerism Churches of American Christianity.
We are all, uh, how shall I say, victims of our environment…or is it products?
In theory, the philosophical nominalist view of the things in our world (universals are only that way because of the language by which it is defined, thus, a tree’s leaves are only green because that is the name we give it) is ideal, but the realist view seems to take control of our minds (I know a Muslim is _______, _______, and _______ because that is how I know I see it). I certainly had my own misconceptions about the Muslim faith before having lived with my Turkish brother and my African brothers and sisters and consequently altering those perceptions.
Ramadan began here in Dakar two weeks ago. This is the month of the Islamic calendar in which people of the Muslim faith fast from dawn to sunset. The fast is usually broken at sunset with sweet dates and juice or water – a tradition started by the prophet Muhammad. After the fast is broken there is a time for prayer and personal reflection and later a meal is served and shared among family and friends.
I was fortunate enough to be invited to break fast with some of my Muslim sisters and brothers recently. As difficult as this fast is for many – teachers teach and construction workers build without eating or drinking anything throughout the day – the overwhelming response is that it is not only a necessary and essential element of the Islamic doctrine, but one of great personal and societal importance and significance.
There are various ways to “get” the month of Ramadan and I’m sure each Muslim will have their own specific reason for why it is significant to them. I’ve heard some state that the month of Ramadan is a time to connect with Allah in a new or refreshed light, with a new and refreshed mentality and heart. It is a time to reflect upon sins committed and to seek forgiveness and to renew their commitment to Allah. I’ve also heard that Ramadan is about the sacrifice and the struggle through a temporarily impoverished state and about understanding the constant struggles that many undergo throughout an entire year or lifetime.
I completely admire their reverence in this practice. My brothers and sisters have freely chosen to sacrifice the core and quintessential elements of life as a gesture, an act, a deed, a personal commitment of acknowledgment to a supreme and omnipresent being and to the societal cry of humankind.
In thinking about my own American Christian background and upbringing I can’t help but to chuckle (loudly and hysterically) at the lack of reverence many of my American Christian brothers and sisters have. Growing up in the Lutheran church, I spent countless weekends performing some type of service act, whether it be Meals-On-Wheels or Habitat-for-Humanity. However, I do believe American Christianity on a whole has become diluted with Christian and Religious jargon and lingo that has polarized the idea of what it is to be called a Christian without the true discipline, acts, and reverence necessary to be a Christian. Some Christians would reject this notion, claiming that all you need is Jesus in your heart to be Christian. While I am not here to judge or disclaim anyone’s personal faith, we can certainly look at models and examples within society to suggest a point.
Our climatic American Christian “holiday” has been saturated with the act of commerce and the gesture of gift giving. In place of the sympathizing and humbled hearts are the distracted minds and fidgety hands impatiently waiting to bask in the warmth of their not-yet-satisfied want.
America’s push into 21st century consumerism has turned churches into state of the art sound-system controlled mega-churches living and breathing off the shear number of “saved” members (and tithes), rather than the community based home centered around the core value of service to others.
Renewed Christian conservatism has quieted intellectualism, taken a dumb-it-down approach to past and present American societal struggles (claiming God can and will make all things possible), and alienated the “other” in a game of good versus evil. To be not Christian is not to be in America.
I have found it gravely difficult to settle in one church for many reasons. I refrain from calling or labeling myself a ________________, rather I would prefer to live life with a dedication to service and a keen awareness to my societal surroundings. I do not intend to be prophetic to anyone, but I do hope humility and a humbling of sorts floods your heart as mine has been through witnessing the awe and reverence of the act of fasting during Ramadan by my African brothers and sisters. For my own mental well-being I feel much safer here in the Islamic stalwart city of Dakar, Senegal than in the many Consumerism Churches of American Christianity.
06 September 2009
Serving History to High Schoolers
On Monday my US History students will write their first Unit Test for the course. The title of this unit is, The Pre-Columbus Era and the unsettling settlers. Two quotes from two different and distinct professionals – one a historian and one a philosopher – but both prophetic professors – come to mind for me as a teacher of History:
“…the historian has been trained in a society which education and knowledge are put forward as technical problems of excellence and not as tools for contending social classes, races, nations.” – Howard Zinn
“…one has to separate the elitism from the honest acknowledgment that some people have more opportunities than others, some people have more privileges than others. And the question becomes how you use, deploy, those privileges, and how you use your privilege in such a way that it is in some way enhancing and empowering for those who are less privileged than you.” – Cornel West
In the later quote I think West not only refers to tangible and physical privileges and resources, such as money, houses, cars, but also education, rights, rights to education, so on and so forth.
So, the historian, then, and I think we are all historians in some shape or form, is not to look at history, or the past, as merely a time-line of events, but as a living document and a tool to assist in enforcing cultural and societal transformations and revolutions that reach across divides in race or economics. (insert protest sign: PASS THE HEALTH CARE BILL, DAMN IT!)
Here’s a bit I wrote and read to my class before their weekend of studying:
America
A word, a place, a name, an empire, a land
discovered
that’s what history tells us, but once
uncovered
we ask ourselves whose history is the history to
believe.
Some say our European ancestors were the ones to discover this
New world, this land of gold, but we can’t let the executioners
deceive.
America
MIGHT we take a closer look at the evidence of the land
itself
instead of them big ole books on the
shelf
we would find this land was once connected to our Asian
brethren
and through the Ice Age they moved with hopes of expansion and
settlin’
Check the DNA
America
ESKIMOS, Iroquois, Chactaws, and
Cherokees
Men, women, and children from these and other
societies
lived with the land. It was a brother, a sister, a tool, a
necessity,
without it, existence for them was nothing but a
catastrophe.
Never sell your land
America
RIPELY at the same time, the same era, another people began to
awaken,
from the age of the
forsaken.
Rebirthed in the spirit of the Ancient Greeks and
Romans,
a movement began sparking societal
explosions.
With confidence and optimism to better themselves, the people stood up
and stood out
and to the Popes and Bishops they would
shout;
a change in life was on the
horizon
and a new world they would soon be
devisin’
Santa Maria
America
INDEED, a change, a new world is what was
craved
but let’s not get
swept away,
was it religious freedom
or a King’s pleasin?
or a gold rush that compelled the Europeans to
push through
to this “new” world.
With open arms the Taino and Arawak
greeted
and like Gods Cortes and his men were
treated.
Like candy from a
baby
There were too many resources not to
stay, baby.
Dona Malinche
America
CULTURES collide and to the
victors
goes the
spoils.
Disaster in the new world went from simmer to
boil.
Hotter than
hot
what’s a truth, what’s
not
mass murders, forced labor, and chemical
warefares,
left millions dead that’s what the truth really
bears.
With a new Spanish name came a cross
That does not see the land where them Taino lived
Or those Aztec dwelled as a spiritual place, only
a place of
gold
and a tangible resource to
hold.
With a heart so
bold
to the Conquistadores their arms they were forced to
fold
but their courage will live forever, truth be
told.
America
AGAINST all odds of canonized thought here you are with a million and
one details to unravel
to un-earth,
to plant a seed
in your mind and your
heart
to better understand,
not the book,
but the look,
the look,
the look,
that look, that long-ago
look of Montezuma
as he saw his “god”
arrive
and later at his
demise
and that long-ago
look of
Isabel,
who sat there saying,
“oh hell”
not Columbus again, he’s a jerk,
that long-ago look
of the many sides of voices
and souls
of a past,
that may not be our own,
but that speaks to us
through this present day place we
all know
A-M-E-R-I-C-A
America
Happy studying knuckleheads…
“…the historian has been trained in a society which education and knowledge are put forward as technical problems of excellence and not as tools for contending social classes, races, nations.” – Howard Zinn
“…one has to separate the elitism from the honest acknowledgment that some people have more opportunities than others, some people have more privileges than others. And the question becomes how you use, deploy, those privileges, and how you use your privilege in such a way that it is in some way enhancing and empowering for those who are less privileged than you.” – Cornel West
In the later quote I think West not only refers to tangible and physical privileges and resources, such as money, houses, cars, but also education, rights, rights to education, so on and so forth.
So, the historian, then, and I think we are all historians in some shape or form, is not to look at history, or the past, as merely a time-line of events, but as a living document and a tool to assist in enforcing cultural and societal transformations and revolutions that reach across divides in race or economics. (insert protest sign: PASS THE HEALTH CARE BILL, DAMN IT!)
Here’s a bit I wrote and read to my class before their weekend of studying:
America
A word, a place, a name, an empire, a land
discovered
that’s what history tells us, but once
uncovered
we ask ourselves whose history is the history to
believe.
Some say our European ancestors were the ones to discover this
New world, this land of gold, but we can’t let the executioners
deceive.
America
MIGHT we take a closer look at the evidence of the land
itself
instead of them big ole books on the
shelf
we would find this land was once connected to our Asian
brethren
and through the Ice Age they moved with hopes of expansion and
settlin’
Check the DNA
America
ESKIMOS, Iroquois, Chactaws, and
Cherokees
Men, women, and children from these and other
societies
lived with the land. It was a brother, a sister, a tool, a
necessity,
without it, existence for them was nothing but a
catastrophe.
Never sell your land
America
RIPELY at the same time, the same era, another people began to
awaken,
from the age of the
forsaken.
Rebirthed in the spirit of the Ancient Greeks and
Romans,
a movement began sparking societal
explosions.
With confidence and optimism to better themselves, the people stood up
and stood out
and to the Popes and Bishops they would
shout;
a change in life was on the
horizon
and a new world they would soon be
devisin’
Santa Maria
America
INDEED, a change, a new world is what was
craved
but let’s not get
swept away,
was it religious freedom
or a King’s pleasin?
or a gold rush that compelled the Europeans to
push through
to this “new” world.
With open arms the Taino and Arawak
greeted
and like Gods Cortes and his men were
treated.
Like candy from a
baby
There were too many resources not to
stay, baby.
Dona Malinche
America
CULTURES collide and to the
victors
goes the
spoils.
Disaster in the new world went from simmer to
boil.
Hotter than
hot
what’s a truth, what’s
not
mass murders, forced labor, and chemical
warefares,
left millions dead that’s what the truth really
bears.
With a new Spanish name came a cross
That does not see the land where them Taino lived
Or those Aztec dwelled as a spiritual place, only
a place of
gold
and a tangible resource to
hold.
With a heart so
bold
to the Conquistadores their arms they were forced to
fold
but their courage will live forever, truth be
told.
America
AGAINST all odds of canonized thought here you are with a million and
one details to unravel
to un-earth,
to plant a seed
in your mind and your
heart
to better understand,
not the book,
but the look,
the look,
the look,
that look, that long-ago
look of Montezuma
as he saw his “god”
arrive
and later at his
demise
and that long-ago
look of
Isabel,
who sat there saying,
“oh hell”
not Columbus again, he’s a jerk,
that long-ago look
of the many sides of voices
and souls
of a past,
that may not be our own,
but that speaks to us
through this present day place we
all know
A-M-E-R-I-C-A
America
Happy studying knuckleheads…
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