exploring

Today we spent the day exploring Kigali after some of the group went to church. I accidentally slept in until 1230 when Ryan woke me up for lunch. I guess I really was tired! Anyway, after church, we had a bit of meeting around time and then we embarked on the highlight of the day, a scavenger hunt around Kigali.

Sam, Rae, and Mikaela traveled around with Sarah Mast (who I knew previously from in the US... weird) and saw a bunch of places as well as got to interact with some local people. We went to Kimeronko (spelling?), the market, and walked around for a bit. It was bustling with people selling everything from fruit to clothes to flour to cleaning supplies in stalls and under a large roof. It was delightful and I'm looking forward to going back and bartering with people. I want to see what kind of deals I can get on clothes, fruits, and gifts. And just learning how people buy things here differently.

It was excellent traveling in the matatus as well, buses/van things that cost between 100-250 franc to get around in Kigali and its outskirts. It was far more interesting, engaging, and sensual than traveling by car in America-- the sights, the sounds, the smells are all so unique. Everything is so much more colorful. Each person seems to have their own color scheme. I really like passing by all the many shops and market stores on the sides of the roads as well. The road that our driveway comes on to is peppered with everything from electronic stores to printing places to coffee shops to supermarkets. Or some combination of each.

We stopped at Aromas cafe for one of our scavenger stops and I met a worker, Muhamed, who I'd like to go back and talk to. Partly because he was one of the few friendly people I actually had significant interaction with, and partly because he spoke English. And also because he could serve me (hopefully) delicious coffee. I've heard it's good from that place.

We also waltzed around the center city, going in a few different shops and getting bearings for a few different things downtown. Afterward, we met up for dinner at Sole Luna, a pizza place near our house. It was yummy.

More soon. It's quite incredible... I hope to upload some pictures that I will take sometime soon.

from earlier today

Well, I made it this far. I'm sitting in the airport at Addis Ababa in Ethiopia after a 13 hour flight. I think I slept a little bit, but for the most part I was reading and writing. It is certainly becoming more real to me that I'm here… maybe not that I'm living here for the next four months, but certainly that I'm here. 

The trip over was good. It really didn't feel like I spent 13 hours in a plane. It felt like I spent maybe six or so. I read from the book Crazy Love by Francis Chan, and it certainly messed with my sense of purpose, my anticipation for the next few months, and is helping me to look seriously at the faith I profess. It really will be an interesting process of transformation. I can't wait to be embarking on this journey… I wrote in my journal how crazy it is that I'm already experiencing profound spiritual questions and inspiration, and I haven't even gotten off the plane yet. 

I am off the plane now though. Our flight to Kigali has been delayed so we're waiting in terminal 1, gate 10 of the airport. I have had some great conversations with the others in the group. I suspect they will be intriguing, engaging, and generally excellent people to live with. And fun too! 

It was truly amazing flying in. I spent last semester working on artwork based on landscapes in Sudan, and to see similar geographical framework coming down from thousands of feet up was inspiring. instead of looking at maps from google, I'm looking at the terrain itself. Instead of imaging the African air, I'm stepping off the plane and breathing deep! It felt good to be off that plane and basking in the sun in open air. 

Fun fact: people smoke in this airport, even though it says no smoking. I love it. I don't smoke, but I think it's funny that people are just like "whatevs man" and lighting up. 

That's all I have for now. I will post again when we've settled into the house after our flight to Kigali.  

packing

I just packed clothes into my yellow duffle bag. I cleared the memory card on my camera. I finished a CV draft. I said goodbye to some friends returning to school yesterday. I cleaned up my computer. I printed directions to the hotel. It's happening so soon.

I made this groove too:
 Groove by Arley Cornell

down time

I've been getting in the habit of emailing people in an attempt to acclimate to different mediums of communication. I think email will have to be my primary means communication during this next semester. I've also been reading a book called "we wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families" by Philip Gourevitch. By no means am I going to be prepared for everything I will perceive and experience next semester, but I feel like I have an inkling of a clue now. And I'm not even finished.

My days at home are so slow! I read, sleep, play Age of Empires, and watch shows with my family. And eat. Oh man, do we eat. There are some fine eatings here at home, especially when I think of the last semester at GC (not to dis the dining commons, but man... home cooked is far superior). Desserts on every countertop. Snacks in every cupboard. Refrigerator bountiful. It's hard with my college student mindset to resist eating all this free food!

I've also been working on some tunes while I've been home. I mentioned it in my last post but here is a link to my new project: Mansa Musa!

I felt restless today. Whenever I'm home, my thoughts don't proceed correctly--instead of a normal, linear progression of thought, my brain tends to scatter and rest on a variety of different things. It really is nothing personal about my family or whatever, but the quietness of this place, the seclusion, the isolation... it changes me. My mind isn't squeezed into its functioning corner. It can flutter about, rest, pick back up. It's nice! But at the same time, it's requiring me to change my patterns of thought. It really is a different structure at home. I suppose I should be thankful for the exercise in changing how I think. I'm about to experience a elemental change in thinking, I hope. If nothing else, I will soon be somewhere with a whole different structure than what I'm familiar with. And I can't wait.

ahh, here we go...

I need to get back into blogging if I'm going to be posting a blog every day or every so often while I'm in Rwanda. 

Let me start by saying that I am immensely excited to depart for Rwanda. I cant wait to meet all the people from go ed, students and staff. i cant wait to really get a feel for the program, academically, spiritually, culturally-- to dive into this thing wholeheartedly. I don't know the journey that I'm about to embark on, but i know it's going to be epic. I can already tell I'm going to look back on these words and say "wow, he never knew what was coming."

I think I still have a lot of preparation to do before I leave. I very much want to pour over this thing in prayer, devour the reading list they recommend, as well as seek out the heart of god in his word on a lot of different issues before I leave. 

My Christmas was excellent. It was just a beautiful day to relax, spend time with my family, and make some music absentmindedly. I've been working hard on a track to release and figure out what my limits are for when I'm in Africa as far as music goes… my metal jams have been spinning. Anyway, I went and saw the new Sherlock Holmes movie with the family, and it was good. My dad got me this mission impossible season from 1988 for Christmas, so we watched an episode of that too once we got back, accompanied by some chocolate panda paws and Christmas cookies. Mmmm. 

One of the things I am most looking forward to is being thrust into a foreign, completely different lifestyle than the one I have right now. The one I have now is pretty mundane-- I sleep, I eat, I read, I play my guitar, I see a few people… that's it essentially. When I get to Rwanda, not only will it be a vastly different cultural framework, but I will be cast back into a sense of academia that I've tingled for in recent days too. I'm also pumped about getting rid of my phone for a semester, only using it when it matters. And pumped to not be around the din of American consumerism constantly. But what am I saying? How can I possibly prepare or anticipate the growth, change, joy, and love that I am hopefully going to experience and understand? I can't, really. 

God is so good and beautiful. I have cherished him today and last week for how good he is to me and my family. 

Perlin Smoke

Transcribed from my journal this evening:

I write this outside my house on a quiet, cool summer evening. I am taking my time, because I have all the night. I write by candlelight because I want my thoughts and my writing experience to be real, raw, physical, organic. The cigar I am smoking tastes good in my mouth, feels right in my hands, and smells like tobacco that is rich but delicate. I want to share my thoughts of late. I will take my time this summer evening, a dull moonlight glow, a few of the boldest stars, and the murmur of the night critters.

My movie ticket cost me $7.50 tonight. My ice cream last night cost me $3.75. It might have been more, I don't remember. The intermittent, random bursts of green, quiet light from fireflies reminds me how of these things don't really register in my mind that well. I don't really need to remember how much things cost or where I'll obtain what I want next, because it never is really a concern. Just like right now, I don't really care about much other than sitting here, quietly, listening to the night, the crackle of the candle, and my own breath. But I've been thinking about that lately--I've never really counted the cost, because I've never really had a cost. I have made little to no sacrifice. With my money, but also with my time and heart. The cost to me has always been paid without much thought. I can't help but think about others when I think about that. I read recently that almost half the world lives on $2 or less per day. The cigar that I am smoking costs about $1.50. Garcia y Vega, imported from the D.R.. It is a beautiful thing. A treat for me, really. But some people don't have this luxury. Some people don't have enough food every day.

I shouldn't say "some" people. That makes it sound like just a few. 2.7 Billion people is not some. I can't say most, because it's not [technically] a majority. But think about that--almost half the of everyone won't ever even think about a luxury, a treat, like ice crea, or going to a theater, or enjoying a cigar, because they can't. What an amazing thought. That I am among the luxurious minority of people who can sit down, with no worry about my next meal, my only worry about how chilly my legs are, and write about my thoughts by pleasant candlelight. I live in privilege.

In my programming class last semester we covered a concept called Perlin noise. Perlin noise is a mathematical something used to express what you could call a "smooth random". Instead of just random integers, for example between 1 and 10, being expressed one after anohter in random order, Perlin noise, I don't know how or by what actual mathematical expression, creates randomness but flowing from the values before it. The result is values like 1,2,1,2,3,3,2,2,3,4,3,2,1,1,0,1,2,3,3,3,4,3,2,1,2,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,7,6,7,5,6,5,4,3,2,2,1 etc... instead of just random numbers thrown out there, they follow each other.

My life feels like Perlin noise sometimes. One random night with friends segways into the next, into the next, into a nice evening by myself, into rest, into something else. It's random, it's randomly chosen, but the events follow the last, like a never ending train, twisting and winding into some destination. The smoke from my cigar looks the same. Ceaseless grey pouring up and out and into whatever, the welcoming night sky. That's my life. On and on, money thrown here, fun thrown here, work and play and rest and cycle and whatever whirling up and out and down and around back to the beginning.

I wish I was more calculated. I wish everything I did was purposeful. It's not enough to have a decent moral code, then to dream about justice and dream about setting the world to rights. A dream is like smoke to me now. It's pleasant, but passes. I want my dreams to be plans. I want my lofty to desires to be my lifestyle. I'm tired of the smooth random.

I'm going to give away my clothes. I have a lot that I don't need. I'm going to let them be used for a better purpose. I'm going to stop throwing away my money. I've talked [about it] before, but if I get money, I'm going to save it or give it away. I don't think I've ever really experienced generosity. More than anything, I think I'd rather experience that right now. I don't want to piss away 4 and 5 dollars on my sensations. I want to [do] what is in my power to reduce the waste in my heart and habit.

I've never really experienced what I envision. I think I've really missed out. I think there's a whole bit of being a human that involves engaging others through utter self sacrifice and generosity. I've lived in total luxury for a few years. I really do want to sample real giving, real generosity. I pray that I can do so. I plan to start right now.

The cigars always get really strong near the end because there is less tobacco to filter the smoke. As time goes on, there is less filter [in] life and more beautiful, maybe a little more bitter experience, expression, and truth comes. I love Jesus more than I ever have.

This ends my journal entry. I think about the time I spent outdoors and wonder what's wrong with the world. I think about now, as I write this out, how wrong I really am, how deeply I need to be transformed.

late night poem

my fingers are pungent with the leafy aroma of tobacco
and the corroded metal of nickel wound six strings
my lips are dry with the ended sweetness of a browned cigar
and the dried perspiration from hours of flame
my abode is a catacomb; grounds of arabica scattered carefree
light is dim, earth is nearby. i taste it so sweetly and serenely.
perhaps only at this hour, when all but a few birds are resting completely.
my eyes at rest, my fingers at rest, my body at rest, my soul at rest.
my god is my rest, always. oh how in love with him i am.

This has been a reoccurring sentiment for some time.