Indigenous

I didn't know people still did missions like this. I felt like I was witnessing firsthand some of the missionary stories of my childhood while Helman told us about his ventures by canoe into the heart of Colombia. Guerrillas, midnight assaults, capsized canoes, planes with no seats that transported cows as well as humans, where the pilot had to stick his head out the window to be able to land.

That's the real deal.

And I didn't truly understand what the ladies at our conference had gone through to get to us until we took the relatively easy bus trip to San José del Guaviare, a mere 2.4 degrees from the equator and only 4 hours from Villavicencio, Crisalinco's home base. This was the closest Crisalinco training center to reach, Helman informed us. No joke... some of the women had traveled 14 hours by canoe, 2 days in a bus, and taken two planes (some of them doubtful as the one I mentioned above) to be able to come to the conference. They're incredible.

We visited two different indigenous groups who live near the city of San José. First were the Nukak, second were the Hiú.

The village of the semi-nomadic Nukak probably impacted me most of anything that I saw while we were in Colombia. I'd love to post photos, but... this is one of those moments when I honestly can't post many. If you're interested in demographics and a description of these people and how to pray for them, take a look at these websites:

https://joshuaproject.net/people_groups/11966/CO
http://www.survivalinternational.org/tribes/nukak
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nukak_people

This is how they live, this is where they eat. We visited their homes and talked as much as we could-- Nukak isn't a common language, let alone a written one. Stealing is a core value to their society, because it's how they survive. Governmental programs worth hundreds of thousands US are sponged off by corrupt politicians, and only a sliver of the aid makes it to the communities, where it's typically poorly applied and no training is provided. Helman says they need a missionary to come live among them full time, adopting their customs and living life with specific values to show them morals they haven't learned quite yet and teach them to read, so they can study the Bible for themselves as it's developed in their language. Learning ethics would also need to be learned, since although there is a school built in the community, the students typically only stay for an hour before they decide to go home. There's more I could share here, but again... I feel it's not something to be made a spectacle of. I'd love to tell you, though, if you feel like asking!

This is Friendly Fred, next Christmas's dinner on four feet. Watch out, Fred!
He was quite receptive to our group, and followed us around faithfully.

This guy is the hope of Crisalinco for the Nukak. They don't have a tribal leader,
but this man has gone through Crisalinco's training and can now read and write.
As he continues to grow, their hope is that he will rise in the esteem of his community.
He and his wife came to visit us at our hotel since we missed them in the village.

The other tribe we visited was the Hiú. They are way more settled in than the semi-nomadic Nukak, so their cultural development is also a lot farther along and their dwellings are more permanent.







I have searched online, but I can't find any extra information about them! Maybe I don't have the right spelling or they go by another name. This group of people, though, was a lot more ready to engage with us. The language barriers was not as great, and we even got to tell the kids a Bible story and sing Father Abraham and The Wise Man Built His House Upon the Rock. I pulled out my extensive Casa Grande training as Kids Club emcee, though we were definitely all following along with Helman. Who is DEFINITELY in his calling as he relates brilliantly with people, up to jumping into a river to race some of the boys.

We also got to see their process for making cassava bread, which they bake on top of a tin roof in the sunshine.

These mud stoves last up to a year before needing to be rebuilt.
Turtle soup, anyone?

Seriously.

They make and sell these manillas, or bracelets... we bought them out.

Also got to try this hunting bow... and the spearlike arrow that went with it. It was fun,
but my arrow didn't make it far.

Just tell me this doesn't look refreshing.

I got the pleasure of holding this little princess for her mom for a while.
She was a cuddler!

Obviously... this makes you think. They live without so many conveniences I consider "necessary." Their lives are simple, but they are interested in each other and interested in creating and enjoying creation. It's an entirely different mindset, and taking the poverty and some of the more controversial moral systems out of the picture.... there are a lot of parts of their existence that are simple and good.

What does it mean to be indigenous?
Dictionary.com helped me out there.

adjective

1.

originating in and characteristic of a particular region or country; native(often 

followed by to):

the plants indigenous to Canada; the indigenous peoples of southern Africa.

2.

innate; inherent; natural (usually followed by to):

feelings indigenous to human beings.

It means to belong. To be born someplace, raised someplace, to be part of the fiber and DNA of that place. Because if a location is inhabited, its inhabitants are what give it the flavor and character that it has. The DR has one flavor... the Colombian flavor has a completely different one. And both countries have subflavors, like these original groups. There are 80 groups like the Nukak and Hiú in Colombia, I found out.

Yet these indigenous groups are the original Colombians, like the native American tribes are the original Americans. And somehow, whether by oversight or by design, the collective development of the country around them passed them by. They live by different rules, different means, different resources. They are effectively in that world, but not of it. They are part of the cultural makeup, but they don't affect it.

Here's my thought to ponder, and I'd love some discussion on the topic as I perfect my parallel here...

As Christians, we're now indigenous to the kingdom of God. We are part of its fiber, what gives it flavor, yet like the Nukak, we live semi-nomadic lives in a land not our own. We live by different rules, different means, different resources; called to be in this world, but not of it, and its progress "forward" may seem to leave us in the dust as we struggle to avoid taking on a worldview that goes against our ancient creed. However, we are not called to live only amongst ourselves. We are called to be the flavor and the color (the salt and the light) of this land we travel through, as well, leading others toward our home country.

Indigenous.

Credit where credit's due: Most of the photos in this post were taken by my teammates, particularly Rod and Peggy Stewart and Tammy Springer. They were doing such an awesome job, I decided not to try taking yet another expensive camera through some of the crazy zones were were passing through.

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Adventures Farther South: Colombia

Back in November, I made a specific request: "Lord," I said, "please give me opportunities to travel to other Latin American countries."

A couple weeks later, my friend Tammy, whom I met at Casa Grande through the Chapel Project (see A Neighborhood Called Blessing) messaged me. "We need an interpreter to travel with our group from Advancing Native Missions for 3 weeks to do a conference for women in ministry in Colombia," she said. "Would you pray about it?"

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Colombian Cuisine

I love trying new foods... and I have to admit, that´s one of the most fun parts about visiting another country. Colombian food is super economical-- I think we averaged about $3-5 USD per meal when we were eating out toward the end of the trip, including something to drink. It probably helped that the Colombian peso is currently $3000 to every $1 USD. You can buy a pineapple or a bottle of water for less than 50 cents.

Here are some of the flavors we found in Colombia. I think I'll let the pictures and their captions do the talking.... And we'll start out with primarily just what we ate while we were at Crisalinco, on the base.
.

This is a typical breakfast... sweet, pear-like pumarosas
  (Trena calls them "water apples" here in the DR), caldo, which is a brothy soup
with a piece of beef rib cooked in it, and arepas, which are
round tortilla-like bread (thicker) made from corn flour. These
were unsalted... in my opinion? The cheesy ones are best, like behind Rod's bowl in the pic below!

This bears a side note: The caldo is a normal breakfast food, but if you don't have soup for breakfast? You will likely have it for lunch or dinner. Our host, Helman, informed us that Colombians usually eat soup every day. We had several very delicious kinds of soups while we were there-- one with pasta, a crema of squash, and one that was like a potato soup (or a sancocho, if you're familiar with the Dominican delicacy).

Or if you were our buddy Rod, you may have tried their version of mondongo, a soup made from tripe!

I don't have a good picture of the juice drinks, but oh my. If you look at the juice behind Rod's soup, you can see its brilliant color. They make FANTASTIC juices in Colombia, which can be mixed with either milk (think a very natural-tasting milkshake) or just drunk as juice. Best part is... most places don't add sugar, or very little if any. Mmm.

A typical dinner: Scrambled eggs, rice, and boiled plantain.

Rice, beet-and-egg salad (quite tasty, actually... and ooohhh the color!)
with roasted mature plantain.

Another breakfast. Eggs, bread, and papaya.

This one reminded me loads of the DR-- beans and rice, monedas (coins) of plantain,
and salad. The beverage pictured is aguapanela, or water prepared with the raw
cane sugar that's a staple, pictured here:

This was one of my favorite meals because of the laughter that went with it as the US Americans attempted to eat fish that still had their heads and fins attached. My Colombian and Salvadoran friends inform me that the head and fins are the best part. I'm still not convinced. The fish was tasty, though!

This is tinto, what Colombians call black coffee, often with aguapanela added.
Like the Dominicans, they often serve coffee in plastic cups, but I thought this
non-disposable cup-holder was a fantastic idea for saving burned fingers.
Also, they had a coffee percolator Peggy dubbed "the magic coffee pot"-- which I don't
have a picture of. It had 3 spouts: One for coffee, one for hot water, and my favorite: one for hot milk.

Masato, a fermented (non-alcoholic) drink made from corn flour and cinnamon

This is arequipe, basically a caramelly spread like dulce de leche.
Colombians like to spread it on obleas, big round wafer crackers that
taste like wafer cookies or ice cream cones. You make a sandwich, and it's delicious.

An unusual but tasty dessert: mature plantains baked down with
crusty cheese on top. You can serve it with ice cream!

I was delighted to discover that Dominican Skim Ice
popsicles are present in Colombia as Bon Ice. So awesome!

Every country has a slightly different take on the empanada. This one
had a soft-ish crust and was full of ground meat and potatoes.

Fruit salad, Colombian style: Contains mango, papaya, and pineapple.
And yogurt. And corn flakes. And prunes. And shredded mozzarella. And ice cream.
With cookies and a strawberry on top!

Crusty breakfast cheesy bread with a yummy cafe con leche.

I swear I'm going to try to make this one at home sometime...
Strawberries and apples cut in pieces, with mint leaves, a little
jam of some kind, and hot water poured over the top. SO GOOD.
This one's called an aromática.

We got the chance to eat at a vegetarian restaurant in San Jose. (An unusual occurrence, our guide informed us: that region is known for being carnivorous.) Tasty, healthy, and fun... well, for the wannabe vegetarians among us. :) Rice with beans and other veggies, salad, broccoli with a tomato-based sauce, and guava sauce (like apple sauce... just not) with puffed millet for dessert. Mmm...

This salad gets to go here, too... broccoli, kiwi, mixed veg, cucumbers, and greens... REALLY yummy.

And sometimes you get to eat watermelon and spit the seeds from the balcony.

Last night in San Jose, we got pizza. Hawaiian is a surprisingly
popular flavor in Colombia! Everything from pastries to pizza
comes with ham and pineapple. They serve it on these individual
cardboard plates, and as you can see, this pizza was huge.
But they don't really do it like we do in the US, either-- we order
lots, eat lots, and don't mind taking it home. They're a lot more
conservative... this place didn't have pizza boxes, but foil "slice bags."

So there you have it: Food in Colombia is pretty good. At the very least, if you starve, it will be your own fault. :)


Credit where credit's due: Most of the photos in this post were taken by my teammates, particularly Rod and Peggy Stewart and Tammy Springer. They were doing such an awesome job, I decided not to try taking yet another expensive piece of electronics through some of the crazy zones were were passing through.

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Rebel Respect

Picturing Poverty

Sometimes being a missionary takes you to oases where being a photographer is almost a natural happenstance...

 

 Because let's face it, we missionaries like taking selfies just as much as the next millennial. (If slideshows are no longer scrolling, just hover over them and click the little arrow "play" button that appears.)

Photo Gallery by QuickGallery.com And it so happens that as a missionary, I have the privilege of living in a country that could easily be the most beautiful on earth (if you shove the poverty, lack of education, and the streetside trash under the rug, if you've got one).

And that's the Dominican Republic that everyone wants to believe in. When I say this is where I live, the first images that pop into people's minds are the resorts and beaches... turquoise pools like jewels rimmed by swaying windblown palms and white sand beaches. Coconuts with little umbrellas and straws, beachside vendors selling jewelry and tasty treats.


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Reality is, that's reality for remarkably few people on this island. If you go to those places, you usually don't see Dominicans. Most families live on the primary breadwinner's earnings of less than $1/hr, and despite what most folks would like to tell you, living here is not actually cheaper than living in the USA. Food and anything produced (furniture, cars, dishes, paper products, etc.) are just as expensive, if not more so, due to import costs.

Statistics indicate that most of the "real people" on Facebook and social media dress up their lives by choosing what they post, so that it makes things look better, richer, more comfortable, and more fun than they actually are, on average. For the most part, we make posts when we're happy, when we have something we want to make others envious of, when we want to share a pretty photo we took.

Because the unhappy things in life aren't beautiful.
The unexciting things in life aren't sharable.
The unlovely things in life aren't worth "liking."

Enter my little rant's sarcasm here: Unless, of course, you're a missionary in a foreign country. Then the poverty, the discomfort, the hardship, is expected, romanticized, and becomes our cover photos, profile photos, and memes, accompanied by little heart shapes and smilies. We intentionally trade the "happies" for evoking emotion.

I guess that I do fall too often into the trap of wanting to share only the beautiful. The things we want to believe in. But... I want to tell the whole truth, with my words or with my camera lens. Just in a way that truly respects who people are, what they do, and how they live... without exploiting it to gain emotional responses from others.

Last week when we had our Operation Christmas Child shoebox distribution event, one of the mothers practically begged me to take a picture of her twin sons. "¡Mellizos! ¡Mellizos!" she told me, pointing and pulling their little brown faces together. "¡Una foto de mis mellizos!" So I smiled and pointed my Rebel their way, wondering why that was so important to her, or why she was so sure I would need a photo of her two adorable little boys. But... sometimes snapping a photo is a way to make a person feel important, like they matter, like someone wants to remember them. Snapping pictures can actually be ministry.

Regardless... I got a cute picture of a couple adorable kids out of the deal!

I just wonder how often the subjects of our photography recognize our boldfaced, wide-eyed, ethno-centric, point-and-shoot reactions as the pity it is for a lifestyle they've worked hard to be proud of. They sweep their dirt floors, shower several times a day, and almost always dress their best-- with more conscientiousness than most USA-ians, to be truthful.


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Somehow we feel justified sticking our camera lenses into their everyday reality because "Everyone wants to see the little naked babies!"

Do we see the sanctity to their poverty? The singularity to their struggle to make life work, that their determination merits our respect? Don't get me wrong. As this post exemplifies, I love photography. I love the art of composition and showing people things they wouldn't otherwise see. I just wonder... are we extending others the same respect and courtesy we would expect of them were the shoe on the other foot?

I don't mean to be abrasive... this is just food for thought: If it were my naked baby, would I want his picture plastered on National Geographic?

That's why I had a hard time photographing anything outside our outreaches or moments of tourism for the first several months of living here. I lived with a Dominican family, and traveled with a couple of my Dominican friends. There was an indescribable richness to those experiences, and pulling out my camera to photograph the differences in lifestyle felt like a demonstration of disrespect tantamount to "slumming" in a Hooverville of the Great Depression. It's just how they live, what they do. Why do I get to take its picture?

 I wonder sometimes if we do more damage to the people we photograph than anything else, invading their privacy, capitalizing on their inconvenience, and discounting their lives as "quaint" or "picturesque" when the reality is... that kid is naked because he doesn't have clothes, the currency is worth nothing, and there are very few jobs. I've even heard stories of tourists having the local kids volunteer to be in photos with them...then turn around and expect to be paid for the job. Even their image is valued in pesos.

So if I post all pretty pictures, I seem like a pretty awful missionary. And if I post all poverty pictures, I'm a pretty awful Christian. So how do I balance that--share stories without soliciting censure of well-meaning individuals who don't understand why some of that beauty they equate with "vacation" is just a small sliver of my workday--ten minutes we carved out between outreaches, or an afternoon after running an errand to the beachside city? Or without becoming a cultural voyeur who exploits poverty for another "like" on Facebook just because it is somehow a romantic concept for those who have never seen it firsthand? Maybe I would be better off never to post at all.

But there is so much joy and so much enjoyment here, too! So much color in the culture I feel I would be selfish not to share that richness with others, even if it's just through that singular eye of my Rebel. When I share pictures, it's because I want to share the story. It's an attempt at portraying a perspective; a lens through which we almost never view the world. And it's a balance I'm constantly reckoning: to rebel against the tendency to unintentionally exploit, and instead portray beauty and Story in a different light.

Sometimes a picture's worth a thousand words...sometimes even words fall flat. But there's a depth to the beauty that goes beyond color and contrast. If you truly want to experience that wealth, a photo's never going to do it. You've got to see for yourself, smell for yourself, taste it and know that it's good.

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