African Journal #5 “Semper Gumby”

African Journal #5 “Semper Gumby”

You know you’ve never quite left home when you stay up just a little bit longer so you can read on Gizmodo about the new iPad 3. While I’m not a shameless Apple fanboy, I still felt like a died-in-the-wool American last night as I experienced a surge of excitement when the cutting edge moved forward once again. Am I going to buy one? Who knows. But I’m just glad it exists. Retina display FTW!

Granted, such esoteric—and they are—internal conversations are completely irrelevant in a social setting that has about 1/100th of the wealth that I do. And it 2010 I made so little money I was able to get the Earned Income Tax Credit. What a world we live in. I wouldn’t dare call it just. And yet that odd questioning of justice in light of relative income cannot even touch the internal wrangling that occurred when I observed one of the most profoundly unjust events of my life yesterday. I cannot get in to it, to be honest. But I can say that while being, again, profoundly unjust it was the most just outcome. That is why I somberly noted on my facebook page that I watched my hope for seeing true justice on this earth taken to the backyard and summarily executed. I have wrestled with the concept and notion of justice for quite a few years now, but it is experiences like these that solidify the sheer complexity and injustice of life (and subsequent death). It takes time and effort, all of which is painful, to divorce one’s concept of justice from esoteric notions of justice such as that which the likes of Locke and Rawls argue. I’m all about Western discussions of justice, but they do not even begin to answer the questions that plague the fundamental understanding of life as I have observed it. I do not say that to say that my experiences are so much different than yours, but only to say that I’ve spent (ostensibly, wasted) many years asking the question, “yes, but what does it mean?” This borderline-fanatical preoccupation with the particular and existential does not bode well for my intellectual life, but to say “this is how I’m wired” wouldn’t be doing it justice.

Perhaps that’s why I’m enjoying Blood Meridian so much right now. It doesn’t entertain morality or right and wrong or justice. It is simply describing what is and the truth that violence is the underlying state of man. When it all becomes too much for me I pick up “Zen & The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” a philosophical classic which is proving to be quite an intriguing book, although the sparse mentioning of Buddha is enough to put me to sleep. Expect a more detailed report on that book in the future. And with that I’ve made it sound like all I do here is read. If that is your conclusion, you are correct.

These last few days have been spent wholly here at Bombo, the site of A Perfect Injustice’s homes for street boys. Normally every other day I would go to Kampala, but it has not been so for the past four+ days. And that is fine, but I am a bit stir-crazy. So because I’m here, and I actually have much to accomplish, I have attempted to read and read that which will assist me in my time here. Yesterday I almost knocked out the MTS Teen edition, which I rather liked. I needed to read that because today I “started my ministry”. Woop woop! That’s right, folks, the rubber has hit the road. Today I did 30-minute individual counseling sessions with the four boys in this home (I actually hit my time targets too!). Starting next week I will be doing two days of individual counseling, one leadership MTS group, and one boys MTS group. In case you’re wondering if that is a higher load than originally planned, the answer is “Absolutely”. Yet circumstances require that level of involvement, and that is why I’m here. In the last four days everything about my ministry plans here have changed or been modified in some ways. But that is ok; it is what I expected. In the Marine Corps, an organization delusional enough to have “Semper Fidelis” (Always Faithful) as its motto, we had a saying to describe the military reality that things were always changing so you had to have a pliable outlook on the future. We called it “Semper Gumby” or “Always Flexible”. It’s a great tool to have in the “missions” toolbox because you can never trust something to go as planned. Murphy lurks even more so in Africa than the US. I’ll probably speak more in the future about the counseling and MTS groups, but since today is the first day I’ll just briefly note that “yes, I am completely out of my league counseling young trauma survivors, and no, I did not scar them for life.” It went well and I’m expecting big things as we unpack these young one’s experiences and see God’s hand in the beautiful and tragic lives of these young boys. In the interim, please pray for me because I feel like I’m out of my league. I’m serious.

Tomorrow I’m going back to Kampala, which I’m rather excited about. I think Uncle Peter is worried that I won’t be able to navigate Kampala without his Luganda skills, but I’ve told him, “I’ll be fine! What’s the worst that could happen?” Having been mugged, kidnapped, and robbed in Africa—and all three separate events—I tend not to try to muse on that question too much.

Thanks for listening/reading.

Dan

Ps. Invisible Children seems to be causing quite an internet buzz with their Kony 2012 campaign. Any thoughts?