This is Rob’s tale about pig’s tail. There is not much to say actually, but I somehow find a way to say a lot even when I don’t intend to. Yeah, I know Mr. Wiseguy or Wisegirl, you are not the only one(s) who have told me that!  However, as I was saying, this is Rob’s tale about pig’s tail, so I will tell the tale! For  lunch we had white rice served with  black beans cooked with pig”s tail. It was my next to the last meal, and I knew that by request I was going to have pizza this evening, so I went for it. And actually it was quite good! It looks really bad, especially when cooked with black beans in a black sauce that makes everything look as though you are eating tar, but basically it tasted like, um, let’s see, well, it tasted like pork!!!!! Imagine that. Just porky. No, it wasn’t curly like fries at Arby’s!  It was round and quite tasty. Eat it in the dark and you would never know it was a tail.

Some of you, from your responses, thought I was leaving Thursday after that reflective type blog on Wed. Nope. I leave tomorrow (Sat) at 12:40 if all goes right (I think we turn right. The pilot has a gps lady to tell which way to go) to Barbados. I am scheduled to  arrive in Atlanta about 8 something where I will overnight, then fly to Louisville to arrive @ 9:30 a.m.. I hope to hurry to church that morning because I am supposed to sing, but more importantly, Bob Russell is supposed to preach! Hope all the flights work well for me.

Yesterday after class, I took a one hour ferry ride to Bequia Island to do some more snorkeling. Cost me a whole $20 for the trip and snorkeling! What a steal, and I got to do it in the bluest warmest water …… it was so sweet! On the boat with me was a couple that was going diving while I snorkeled. I was jealous of them. Lord forgive my covetousness, and bless all those pigmys in Africa. I had on a Steelers t-shirt and hat, (plus other clothes!) and the girl asked if I happened to be from Pittsburgh or was just a Steelers fan. I told her of my roots and she said that she was from Sharon, Pa. just up interstate 79 and was a Steelers fan. She had been to Kennywood many times so she knew where I was from near the Burgh. She introduced me to her husband especially when I told her I was  from Louisville because that is where he was raised. He is a 1982 graduate of St. X high school and was a swimmer when in school. (k, if  you insist, we can do it all together again on the count of three. Ready? One, THREE! “Wow, what a small world!” Sorry to fool you on the count, but I just couldn’t wait to get it out. The small world quote was one of the first statements to come out of the Louisville guys mouth too. (I chuckled inside when he said it.) It was nice to visit. Cards or Cats? I know that is what Louisville folks are thinking. Well, as I was leaving I said to her, “Go Steelers!” and to him “Go Cards!”, but he said “I am a Cats fan.” Good thing we were close to the dock when I pushed him back  into the water! Lol. They are in their 30′s and live in Chicago, but they took a year off work, bought the boat in Spain (they did not sail it back) but did sail from Florida to different islands on their way to Bequia and other islands, then they plan to sail back to Chesapeake Bay and sell their boat and go home. It is so odd to me that there are really people like that out there who do those adventurous things. How awesome! Imagine treating sailing like you would driving a car across the state or the nation. That is braver than I would be, I guarantee it. I would feel like Captain Hook as though there was an alligator or a shark following me everywhere I went!

I am wrapping my mind around leaving here, especially after having done most of my packing. Lord willing I will be in Atlanta this time tomorrow night. No more tropical breezes and sun and warmth. Back to cold and snow and winter coats. I was thinking of some of the things I have done without for three weeks like my cell phone, a vehicle, television for the most part, the Olympics, sports, shopping, fast food, white people, evenings alone, hot showers, a dryer, etc. I was blessed to have a washer to use, but I had to hang my clothes with clothespins on the line behind the school. Just like the students. But they don’t have a washer!!! No, they scrub their clothes as Ismel was doing this afternoon in a plastic tub in a cement sink in the back near the clotheslines. How many college students in USA would do that?

But one thing I have missed is room to move. When your residence is 11 by 18 in the miles category, it is easy to get claustrophobic. The ocean is your barrier. There is not a lot to do as far as entertainment, etc. Suddenly your world seems smaller. When you can’t drive because you would wreck into someone because you forgot to drive on the right side o f the road and gas is exorbitant, your world shrinks even more. Feet become very important. If you want to shop, every store owner about has a monopoly. We were talking the other day on where to buy a desk lamp, and two stores were the options. Two! And your world shrinks some more. Getting away to the other islands or out on the water is an open doorway and a fresh feeling of breeze on the bald head, but also a fresh feeling of freedom. Snorkeling opens a whole new world, also.

Well this is getting long again. So let me tell you about tonight, and when I get back home I will do some retrospectives.

I went to the store and bought a cake mix and ice cream. $42 e.c., still about $18 U. S. But I had to get rid of my E.C. money anyway, and I had to toss in $2 U.S. I wanted to have a party tonight. The students made the cake and topped it with the Pillsbury icing I had bought. The ice cream was some chocolate packed in a plastic tub, about a quarter gallon I imagine. The cake was fantastic and is served by the slice here, not by the piece. I had pushed the tables together so we were family-stylin’ it. The surprise was mine when first a student prayed for me with wonderful words and heartfelt thoughts to the Father. Then Gregory spoke followed by Ismel, and doggone it, they brought tears to my eyes. Such thanks and kind words of praise. We will miss each other. I shared with them some of the thoughts I have shared with you as to meeting from different worlds for three weeks and then leaving to be used by God until we meet sometime, perhaps not until heaven. Then we served the ice cream because it was melting in this heat (sorry Louisville), then the cake. They are not served together. You eat your ice cream (perhaps because it melts so quickly) and then you serve the cake, one in a bowl and the other on a plate. You can figure which. Serving each separately was better, because it made the time together last longer. A good time was had by all. (I just had to use that small town newspaper worn out, throw-it-in-the-trash phrase.) Then I returned their graded tests to them and they didn’t like me any more. Lol.

This has been a good experience and I will miss the people. Once again, I owe a great debt of thanks to the elders and people of Shively Christian for their patience and kindness in not just allowing me to go, but in supporting my going with encouraging words and prayers. Thanks to First Christian in New Salem, which paid for my plane ticket after I preached a revival there, and a few individuals like Betsy and Bettie who also helped financially. And thanks to all of you who have traveled with me, as my brother wrote a couple nights back, by reading the blog, responding a time or two and praying for me. There is so much more to tell you, including our dinner conversation when Rohan came to eat with us and talk got to eating iguana. He catches them to eat……

There will be more to tell as it surfaces through the next few weeks. So, until then my friends, next time you oder a burger, ask for a side of pig’ s tail, snort, snort!

Th,th, th, that’s all folks!  See you stateside.

Rob

P.S. This morning while giving the Life of Christ final, I heard from the dogs, the rooster, the plane and the forever ambulance. No goats this time, but the cow made a very mooooving goodbye on behalf of the other animals and distractions. First time I had heard from the cow.

I woke up this morning and found that a transition is happening in my thnking. Not anything earthshaking, just concerning my time to depart. (Gosh, I almost sound like the Apostle Paul or something concerning his death.) I, of course, am speaking of my time to leave the island and go back to the states. I am expecting to arrive safely, but whatever God decides. There is always a bit of a shadow when flying and talking about “terminals”.

Back on track….I was speaking about  getting mentally set to head back to my “other” life. I spent today writing my final tests and today was the final session for my Romans class until Friday’s test. Tomorrow will be the final teaching time for the other two. Perhaps it is that ending status of my responsibilities that is pressing in and moving my mind in a northern direction.

It has been a “quick” 3 weeks for me, that has proably seemed eternal in length for those hunched over by brutal winter winds and a continual accumulation of the white stuff. Within a few hours of being back, I will probably be joining the chorus of prayers for a soon to come Spring.

Usually, those who go on mission trips learn some lessons about themselves, friends and family and the attitudes of each in relation to the blessings and abundance of all that America offers by the grace of God. And unfortunately I have been on the earshot receiving end as people speak speak negatively from pulpit of their newly acquired enlightenment of how overindulgent, etc, etc. Americans are and how these ”fresh from the battle line” servants have now learned to be more appreciative, etc and etc. And those are good lessons to learn, great observations to make in retrospect, but too often the people come off so, oh, I don’t know, sanctimonious maybe? The attitude in which it is all delivered is often from a “look down my nose” perspective with a pinch of judgmentalism thrown in. And it is truly sad to watch those folks over time and through the conforming pressure of society, lose the clarity of soul vision for which the only Claritan may be another mission trip. I know that happens to me. I learned so much from Nicaragua trips about myself and my distorted living “needs”. I remember making self-promises to be less selfish and live more simply, and I am embarrassed by the short amount of time it may have taken me to “conform” once again to selfishness and the delights of the eyes.

For three weeks, I have lived very well without the various foods I have jokingly mentioned in these blogs, and it has probably been good for me. I still would like some sweet tea when these guys are drinking hot tea in the middle of the blazing hot afternoon, and I will not feel guilty about not having rice and beans every day for both post-breakfast meals, but I did survive. And I lived three weeks without a cell phone! I never had one for years and years of my life, but at home I “must” have one. Really? I have not driven a vehicle for three weeks. That is the longest stint in my nearly 40 years of driving. I may have to visit the BMV for retraining before my first attempt to motor, or I may find myself wanting to drive on the opposite side of the road!!! Times like this opportunity to teach in St. Vincent can be used (and have been used) by God to clear the head and more importantly, to clear the heart a bit. Please, please I hope I am not committing the faux pas of which I spoke and coming off with raised eyebrows and a “holier than thou attitude”. As i said, I know my own weakness and overindulgence and even now I am fearful and mournful of what may happen to me when I arrive back home and “normal” sets in with the frenzy of “catch up”.I speak only of some of the stirrings in my own heart that God has been shifting; casting no stones at others or shouting “look at me”. I am simply wanting  to share, not condemn or measure others in my self-directed magnifying glass.

One thing I rediscovered here on the island was the simple truth that the family of God wears many skin colors and speaks with many accents. The common denominator is love that is deep and rich through our common Savior, the Lord Jesus. This evening at the end of our worship time, worship  just as Christ-honoring, powerful and faith-building as any I have experienced in the states, 10 of us joined hands in a circle. In one hand I held the hand of a deeply black skinned man from Jamaica, and in the other, the light brown skinned hand of a man from St. Vincent. Hands I may never hold again. They each held the hand of a white man (with a bit of a tan) from Kentucky, USA, and together with heads bowed, with no instruments but the harmony of our voices we joined 7 others in singing “Change my heart O God, make it ever true, change my heart O God, let me be like you. You are the potter, I am the clay, Mold me and make me, this is what I pray. Change my heart O God, make it ever true. Change my heart O God. Let me be like you.”

Worship that touches heaven and returns to earth to fill the heart of the worshiper. A common prayer from different hearts within different bodies whose home is heaven, but who began their journeys in different countries. These are my (your) brothers and sisters. The upper room where we worshiped was a pretaste of heaven where people from every tribe, tongue and nation will praise the Creator who sent His son for the salvation of any one from any location who will bow before the Lordship of Christ. In my “other” life where I am so concerned about the mechanics and workings of a “smooth” worship service, i sometimes lose sight of how simple worship really is and what it is all about. Worship is the cry of praise as well as the pleading of any person exposing his/her deepest desire while singing from the soul, “Change my heart O God, let me be like you.”  Realizing that nothing else, all the gifts we enjoy, nothing else, exceeds the value of God’s people and  the “worthship” (yes, you read that correctly) the “wortship” of our mighty Father.  

I guess I will that sit and not disturb it with more words.

God bless you. Change our hearts O God, let them be like you.

Rob

It rained today. Yep, water from the sky. A gift from the father of lights with whom there is not one shadow of turning. The Giver of every good and perfect gift. And it was a much needed gift here. It is only the second time it has rained in the 3 weeks I have been here. This rain lasted a mere 20 minutes, the last one, merely 10 minutes. They are actually talking about having to ration water with no rain falling and the temps. in the low 90′s. I sure know a country, and a particular section of that country that would gladly, I say GLADLY! give some of its moisture since it is in the form of snow; a form of which the fine folks here have no idea. I heard today that it was snowing again even in my hometown of Louisville.

The pace has accelerated with Friday being the final day of my teaching stint. Friday I will give a final test in all three of my classes and then have to grade them while preparing for my trip home. My replacement teacher arrives with his wife on Friday evening from Kansas. They will be so happy to see and feel this weather. But I hope they have water during their stay! Coincidentally, my replacement’s last name is Bowers, which is my mom’s maiden name. We may be related somewhere in the bark of our family tree!

For all you readers of my last animal blog, today the rooster was not around, but the chickens made enough noise to cover the void!

Melanie Robinson has offered to bark during my sermon on the 28th, my first Sunday back. I wonder what she would do if i took her up on that! I do remember hearing of old revivals where people would bark like dogs. Maybe we could get a whole new experience; play “Who Let The Dogs Out”, pass out doggie treats after church….. I can think of more, but I don’t want this to be too long.

Today I preached in chapel using a sermon called, “The Secret That Shouldn’t Be Kept”. At the conclusion I sang a Steve Green song from a while back called,”I Will Go”. It is a bit of a challenge preaching in another culture. Colloquialisms and idioms of expression that work in the States don’t always translate well to an island culture. But the faculty was encouraging afterwards with sincere comments. Praise the Lord for that!

Three more days of teaching here, then, Lord willing, winging my way back home after an overnight in Atlanta. I am grateful for the staff that covered for me. I have heard nothing but compliments about them. But I knew they would be led by the Father to do well. This Sunday Bob Russell will preach. How I so appreciate the humility of a guy like Bob who is so in demand after God used him to grow Southeast into a congregation of about 18 – 20 thousand. Yet he makes time to serve the churches in Louisville with his gift. Thanks Bob. I am sure that the attendance will be good! If all the flights go well, I should be back by the second service and am scheduled to sing.

Gotta go. It is 10 p.m. here and my first class is at 7:30 with the breakfast bell at 6. But the banging in the kitchen near my room at 5, and the sun shining blindingly through my window at 5:30 a.m. like I was Saul on the road to Damascus wakes me even before the annoying rooster out back!

Good night. Let there be peace on Earth. And let it begin with me.

Shalom.

Rob

I’m not one of those preachers who gets upset when a baby cries while I am preaching. I figure there are probably some adults out there who are also crying (to get out!) But teaching here can truly be a challenge.  The upstairs classroom has not windows. there are just openings in the block to let the air flow through, which it often does since the school sits on a hill. Behind the school, being on a hill as I said, the hill proceeds upward at about a 60 degree angle. Two times I have been teaching when a rooster decided to roost. (Poor bird must get its name from one thing it does. What if we all were labelled like that?) Anyway, it roosted on a rock behind the school that could be seen from the classroom. And it did more than roost! It crowed. And more than the biblical three times. And it crowed and it crowed> I asked the class if they ate roosters, and they chuckled (that was the best I could get since it wasn’t really funny, but then the dogs started! Down in front of the school is a home that also is the residence of four dogs. If anything but the wind moves, they are on it. And no sooner than the dogs started, a plane decided to take off. I have previously told you about having to pause until takeoff. Sometimes its just the noise of the goats next door munching and trouncing in the brush out back or to the side, a little bleating or a little mooing from the cow who also lives next door. But when the rooster gets to shouting and the dogs get to barking and the plane gets to flying. it all adda to the ambience of teaching at WISE. If I can do that, then bring on the babies!

Yesterday I was able to go by boat to Tobago Cays which is a 3 hour boat ride to the south of St. Vincent. I did have a great day and saw some absolutely paradise-like sights, but let me tell you about it. We left at 8 from St. Vincent (we being a family of 6 from Connecticut and a couple from England, though light brown skinned with black hair, thus, I am assuming, not of English decent. We went to a neighboring island and picked up a group of “older” people for the trip. Some from Illinois, some from England and some from somewhere. Along with our new riders came booze and a lot of it, along with a lot of food! It was only 9 a.m., but they were drinking like sponges left out in the sun. I never saw so few people drink so much beer and liquor in so little a time! I am not kidding you. I watched in amazement as they drank and drank and drank. Never an empty hand. Every time their hands went up, their mouths went open like some kind of machine. I watched as adults started acting like little children, but not in the manner that Jesus recommended. I laughed with them, I tried to avoid their breath when they talked to me. I was going to be with them the entire day, so I did the best I could. i was going to call on God to rain down fire and lightning, but then in the nick of time I remembered that I was on the boat and we were out in the Atlantic Ocean!! I remembered the story of Jonah, but was not in for telling a fish story when I got home. I also remembered the three hour Gilligan cruise, and did truly hope that the captain did not drink too much. I think I saw two life jackets, and no one was wearing them.

Anyway, I cannot describe the ocean to you. Such magnificent beauty. You who have been blessed to go on cruises know how the deep rich blue of the ocean is. There were white caps on our way south and the waves were kickin’ and bouncing the catamaran. I enjoyed watching birds dive into the water and emerge with fish, and I loved watching the flying fish. They would surface out of the wake of the ship and fly beside the boat. The sun would gleem off their silvery scales, they would fly along, then pitch into the crest of a wave. Absolutely awesome. How creative our God is.

I went snorkeling at one location and was able to view sea turtles dining on the grass at the ocean’s floor. Only about 20 feet deep. Another stop and I snorkeled into some coral. Well, not into the coral; around it. Unfortunately it was not the bright coral i had imagined. That was disappointing and the fish I anticipated in all their colored glory as I had seen in Cozumel were limited. But still, snorkeling and seeing God’s creation underwater was great. While I and the group from Connecticut snorkeled, guess what the others were doing? You guessed it. They stayed on the boat and drank and ate.  We then boated to an island with a white sand beach and stayed for 3 hours. I wandered amidst the palms, took a nap, walked to the other side of the small inlet and watched the waves, sat in the sun some, and read a Leadership magazine I had brought. The others first went to the bar on the beach, then got wet for about 15 minutes, then went aboard and….. you know by now.  About 3 p.m. we boarded and began the 3 hour trip back home which was much smoother and boasted a truly breathtaking sunset.

6 hours on a boat. The sights were beautiful, but the bottom can only take so much bumpy riding and tossing on a fiberglass seat. 3 hours would have taken me from Louisville back to Converse, Indiana and that is boring on cushioned van seats. Imagine the pain I endured for three hours. It was worse than sitting through one of my sermons for a half hour! I probably would not have noticed the pain if I had been in the loose condition of the others. (The dark skinned guy from England did get seasick however). I can’t  imagine how the others didn’t toss some Heinekin (sp?), but thank the Lord they did not. I did have a good time and arrived back just in time for one last sunset picture of me before the sun went down behind a boat in the bay. Cleton took it at just the right time and place. It will be my favorite from the entire three weeks.

And as I type, the dogs are making the noise.

I can’t believe that I have only 5 more days remaining. This has been a true blessing and a high point in my life.  

People have teased me about how much I make of the food, telling me that that is all I seem to talk about. But as I tell them, it is the one thing that changes all the time and is new to me. Now something that is old but has been new to me here is Spam. Yep, they eat it and love it! Tonight at supper, they had something that looked like spam, but I could never get what the name actually was. So Ismel, who is from Haiti, went and brought me a can of this mystery meat. It was chicken spam!! That is all I can say. It comes in a can from Denmark that has the the old fashioned little metal key that fits the metal strip surrounding the can. Do some of you older folks remember those? They used to open spam that way! Maybe Denmark just bought the old spam can factories. Or maybe that is still the way Spam is opened (besides on the computer  with your email).  You roll the little key thingie and it rolls the strip around the can and opens it. But on the can Ismel brought me, there is a picture of a rooster (see a connection) with the name Three Men and under it is imprinted “chicken lunch meat”. Not the best stuff, but it was good with the leftover rice we had from lunch. And that was my supper for the evening. Now you wonder why I think about food so much?!?!?

But one response to my blogs lately. Everyone has abandoned me. I guess they are too long or too boring or the uniqueness of it has worn off for my friends and coworkers back home. In fact, only one of my coworkers has even responded. But then there is Joy letting me know that she is reading these and sending me emails besides. She must love me, eh? (A bit of Canadian in honor of the Olympics.) And I love her.thank you darling for being so faithful.

If you haven’t read the responses, then do read the responses from Cheryl Gilbert on behalf of Adam and her. They are hilarious. Cut her a break for the spelling. She is in a hurry. the response to my Friday in town last week is priceless.

Kept you long enough this time around.

From the guy with a bruised butt and a bit of sunburn,

Ahoy!

Rob

Saturday morning and French seems to be the thing. Believe it or not, we had french toast for breakfast. No syrup, but french toast and blueberry muffins. Made me think of yesterday at KFC when Makenson bit into one of the biscuits and scrunched his face and said, “Too much butter.”  I laughed and told him that in America people would be complaining because they don’t give butter packets to put extra butter ON the biscuits. Here all they give you are the biscuits. That’s it. No butter or jelly or honey. Just Heinz (yeah!) ketchup packets so you can put the caviar of ketchup (catsup) on the chicken!

As I am typing, Gregory is outside cleaning the public bathroom and scrubbing the tile floor. Every weekend the students have assigned jobs to clean this place from top to bottom. What stands out is that Gregory is singing the chorus Thy Word at the top of his lungs, but singing it in French! I guess the toast inspired him. Now if only I could have had that at  my house when my kids were growing up! Not french toast or singing in French, particularly, but singing as they cleaned the bathrooms and floors! The only noise I heard sounded a lot like whining and sounds of oppression. Oh I was so cruel to ask that they clean. Perhaps you were blessed as Joy is with a daughter who looks at cleaning as I do eating a bowl of ice cream. (come to think of it, she is a lot thinner than I am. maybe I should try substituting. Ok, I thought about it. Nah!)

Ok. I told myself that this would be short in length this time. I have to review the sermon I will preach in chapel on Tues and get ready for this afternoon’s sightseeing trip to the east side of the island, including one of the waterfalls found here. I think that this one is a double drop.

Adieu!

Rob

I don’t mean that in the sense of TGIF! especially for me. I mean that in the sense of what I (we) experienced during our trip to town today. Seems as though Friday night in St. Vincent is no different than the attitude of many party-ers in the states. 

We headed for town at 2 and were dropped off at the botanical gardens, about half a mile up one of the many hills. No entrance fee, outside, it was beautiful. So many tropical trees, flowers, and plants on either side of a winding path or sometimes paved trail. There was even a set of cages housing parrots native to St. Vincent. But it was like it always seems to be with me and  my timing when I attend a zoo in the states. Pittsburgh, San Diego, St. Louis, Louisville, wherever I have gone to a zoo, it seems that the animals are always far across the tundra or fake African plain, or inside a cave cozied up and sleeping , probably with smiles on their sleeping mugs because of all the dollars paid by humanoids that will not see them! So it was with the parrots. They, being intelligent, were huddled at the farthest part of cage away from us in the shade, and with the caging being a tight mesh, the siting was minimal. And me, I had not known about the birds, or I would have brought a saltine. I heard that Polly is attracted to crackers. But what I did see of them, a head or an eye and once a full-body profile (she was vogueing) was very beautiful. Today was 90 or 91 degrees (sorry you northerners) and very humid, so even though it was a stroll and very quiet and pleasing to the artistic heart and eye, we were hot. One of the girls had brought her umbrella to ward off the sun, and it made me think of Michael Jackson for a minute. Just for a minute. Is he really dead?  Both girls had brought small towels to wipe their brows and faces should the need arise, and the need did pop its head out. We left the gardens and headed down the hill for a mile to a mile and a half walk into town. And I was so happy that the walk was down the hill and not up!!!! When we finally reached the bottom, Gregory (Roni and Sueanna,teenage females from Guyana, and Gregory and Makenson, late 20′s from Haiti were with me), but as I was saying when I was rudely interrupted by the roster, Gregory asked me the ridiculous question, “Brother Rob, are you hot”. I looked at him with the sweat sheen gleaming off his black skin and laughed. At the bottom of the hill is a poor section of town. Very poor. We walked through that into town and headed for KFC. I had to try their chicken to compare to the U.S. Plus, the girls love KFC. 12 pieces of chicken and 6 biscuits only cost me $49.50! Yes you read that right. Now of course that is e.c. (eastern Caribbean) currency. But still, in the U. S. that is about $27!!! That also included a two liter of Pepsi. Yes, my friends, Pepsi, and it was tasting good!! especially after the heated walk. The chicken? Just like the good ol’ US of A! The mother company for KFC, YUM! brands, is located in Louisville. David Novak, the CEO attends Southeast Christian (of course) and if I see him I will be sure to tell him that in St. Vincent, the Colonel is safe!

So, after eating, we walked around town a bit, and as I said, it was Friday night! It is the biggest market day. Some streets are shut down, and by 3 p.m. people were already lit up from drinking and smoking the weed. People with coolers of beer of various types, and carts with hard liquor lined the streets with reggae music blaring, and it was a zoo, except these animals did not retreat for sleep, they were out in the sun and cranking it up. I have never heard the F bomb said so many times in so short a span of time in my hearing for a long long time. Well, except for when my church secretary gets upset. Lol. Now these guys, though they speak English, are very difficult to understand with the Caribbean accent (Yo mon!) and the fact that they slur and speak very quickly. I sit with the students at the table at night when we eat, and I still have to ask them what they are saying! I could not hear much of anything, but I sure could hear that F word loud and clear. And the party was just starting! Right now, as I write, it is 9:31. I can only imagine, maybe I can, what it is like down there now.

Interestingly, as we were walking along, a white lady came out of a store and began a conversation with Makenson who was walking behind me. Now the other day I saw white people and thought they might be from the states until I heard them order food with a French accent. Then one day I asked a policeman if I could take his picture in his spiffy uniform ( no I was not in his spiffy uniform, he was!) and another white guy and his wife came trolling up with a camera. I thought this might be kindred soul until he opened his mouth and with a voice like Prince Charles asked, “May I take a photo?” Blimey, it was Johnny Bull from the motherland! But today, I heard the young girl sounding like a ‘Merican. And she was. She was a young lady who graduated from the Arizona State and was serving two years in the Peace Corps teaching literacy.  She was from Scottsdale,  which is where Lisa and Sean live now. That is my daughter and son in law for those of you who may not know. Ok, I am thinking it and so are you probably, so let’s go ahead and make it official by putting it in print. Are you ready now? on three. one. two three. “Small world isn’t it?” There, now do we all feel better?

And speaking of Lisa, she gave me permission to let everyone know that she is expecting my first grandchild (happens to be their first child, too, but that is not as important as being my first grandchild) in September. I told the Arizona girl that fact, and her question was, “Has she ever endured a Phoenix summer?” To which I answered the negative. To which she just chuckled. To which I also chuckled. To which….oh you get it.

As you can tell, we did arrive home safely. Sueanna made some Festival, and it was wonderful. Anything new on the food front, Rob? Well, at lunch we had mutton. Sueanna cooked it in curry, so it looked jaundiced. Yuk. I ate some though I am not fond of jaundice, I mean, curry. When they had supper tonight, which I did not eat because I was not hungry one to two hours after KFC, they served the leftover curried mutton.But there was another bowl of meat next to it, and I asked what it was, to which Marshall replied, “Mutton”. To which I replied, “Mutton?” To which Marshall replied, “Yes, mutton.” To which I replied,”Mutton without curry?” To which he replied, “Yes.” To which I replied,”did you have this at lunch time?!?” To which he replied, “Yes!” To which I cleverly replied, “You mean you had mutton with nuttin?” To which they all laughed, and not just polite laughs, I might add.

I had a great compliment today. Sueanna is a high b student, but today she really messed up a quiz. When I gave her her quiz paper she said, “You are a really good teacher.”  To which I replied…. ok, no more of that “to which I replied” stuff. I told her that she may not think that when she saw her paper. She looked at her paper, then looked back at me and said, “No, really, you are a good teacher.” She made my day.

Ok, time to quit. One last group of thoughts, then I am going to call my main squeeze whom I greatly miss while not missing the snow around her house.

As I reflected on today, I thought about the Mount of Transfiguration experience for the disciples and Jesus. up on that mountain with God and His glory, then having to return to the valley and the arguing crowd and impotent disciples below. It is one of the few times we read about Jesus actually getting frustrated.

Well, the botanical gardens were not the Mount of Transfiguration, but the visit was a moving experience for me with the beauty and the quiet and the peaceful walk with new friends. Then the walk into the heat of the valley with the poverty and party and filthy language and the buying and selling, etc. We would love to live on the mountain, and one day we will when God restores all of creation and we live with Him in eternity, but the valley is where we must go and where we must live. I don’t know if the girl from Arizona was a Christian. She did not respond with any excitement when I shared why I was in town for 3 weeks, but if she is not and cares enough to leave her home to help people gain a foothold in this life by teaching them to read, then why should we not be willing to walk in the valley with the Gospel to give people a foothold in this life and the next by teaching them about Jesus? There is no reason we should not, and billions of reasons why we should; one reason for every red, and yellow, black and white person that God loves in this world. If you are not reaching someone with the Gospel, is there a reason or is there an excuse?

Here is something that I recently read in a book entitled Simply Christian written by N.T. Wright (from England, the land of “may I take a photo?”) He wrote: “Sin is not simply the breaking of a law. It is the missing of an opportunity”.  And I will shut up and not comment on that. I will leave it with you to ponder and to think about your part in taking people to the opportunity of their lives.

Be God’s, ok?

Love ya.

Rob (grandad to be)

On the culinary side of things BAM! I found something that BAM! I really did not  like not by sight, but by taste. BAM! (I heard that that is what one of the famous t.v. chefs says when cooking on the tube (funny how you know what I mean when I say “on the tube” or funny how we have no problem with “youtube” when there are actually no tubes involved in either case!) BAM!  Anyway, the culprit revolting my taste buds was eggplant. I do eat eggplant in the states, especially when fried and breaded. But this was, well, looking like something that came out of a baby……………. uh, a baby jar, yeah that is what I meant to write, a baby jar. It was dark and light green in color, crushed and boiled down like a sauce of some kind. I really did try, but two bites was as far as I got.  Put it in a baby jar, and some child will eat it because he/she is not old enough to know that there are better delights to be found on the end of a spoon or fork. But give it to a grown professional of consumptive delights (did I actually just write that last phrase?) and this egg plant is something that you would like to plant in the garbage right next to the hard boiled eggs and iguana leftovers! BAM!!!!

Now that all that is out of my system……

Yesterday we had shepherd’s pie. Not sure which shepherds they got it from, but it was a good cooking crew of shepherds! There was no meat, but it did have mashed potatoes and cheese and vegetables. I told them that it was real “rib-stickin’” food (a little Kentucky lingo never hurt anyone) and then they laughed! I guess the rib-stickin’ language was rib-ticklin’! Oh how I amuse myself. I am my worst critic, but my best audience. Figure that one out.

I never did tell you about the time we had boiled green bananas. Yep. America has fried green tomatoes, and the Caribbean has boiled green bananas. What did they taste like? Absolutely nothing. Seriously, no taste at all. If it had not felt solid in my mouth I would have thought that I was eating water. No taste. BAM! But tonight was a taste of home. Listen to this now. Hot dogs! Yep, boiled hot dogs, with all the condiments and cheese! No fries, but wonderful plantain (boiled) and a side of rice and beans (left over from lunch. You are going to eat it, so you may as well eat it now as much as later.)

On the non-culinary side of things, there are these little salamander-type, geccho-looking lizards that run around (I don’t know, they may be walking, I have no idea what running is to them) all over the walls and the railings and the floor. They don’t really run away when you (or I in this case) approach them, and they are beautiful. Almost transparent-looking with light green, light blue and a touch of pink. During my first worship service here I was kept occupied by one of the critters crawling across the wall behind the preacher while he spoke. It was more distracting than if there had been choir members back there. (unless the choir members had light and dark green hair with touches of light blue and a bit of pink) Amazing little creations of God. Wonder what they would taste like in a stew? BAM! Did you ever wonder who was the first person that looked at an iguana (or any animal for that matter) and said, “I think I will eat that!” And if it tasted really bad said, “Maybe if I bread it, or roast it, or sautee’ or marinade it.” Or maybe if I have a side order of fries with it. ” What makes people keep experimenting with nasty food till they like it!

There we are back at food. Speaking of which, I have a promise of chik-fil-a from the Taylor’s, ice cream from Ben, fries from Karen, and nut rolls and other assorted baked goods and meals from my love, Joy. If I keep talking about the food I miss, I could be good for a month after I get back!! I did get a package from Joy today, but I was nice and gave the 6 chocolate hearts to the six students. I also shared over half my bag of pretzels of which they wanted more. Had to cut them off or they would all be on the next boat to America for wheat and honey pretzels.  Not a good reason to abandon their studies. and I would have to leave since there would be no one to teach. No way am I going to risk that with the weather they are having back home!Thanks, Joy, from the students. I did keep the M & M’s.

This is getting long again…BAM!

The reason that I am here is to teach, and not vacation. Teaching I have been doing, as well as studying additional hours (5 today) in preparation for classes, on top of  the hours of prep. I did at home. I am also preparing and grading quizzes (which I give nearly every day). Not a whole lot of free time to speak of. Teaching is good in that it forces one to study; to be a student before being a teacher of students. I have profited in spiritual growth and knowledge from the Bible study I have done in preparation at home and here. Teaching also makes one formulate and organize one’s thoughts. Writing is always a great discipline because it makes you precise in the use of words and in communicating without ambiguity. (Look it up Roebin.) Teaching forces the same disicpline of communication; causing one to think logically  and precisely so that the communication is clear and understood. If it is not clear to you, it will not be clear to your students. That is one of the challenges/disciplines of preaching also. I feel that since I am preaching and teaching the Word of God, then I must be even more meticulous in communicating because I am communicating eternal Truth  from the heart of God. What an honor to “speak for God”, yet what a fearsome and humbling task.

So here I am on an island in the Atlantic speaking to young people from different countries and cultures. Three weeks may be the only amount of time for our lives to intersect in this life. (Lucky for them!) In these few days with these seven students, I have been gifted by God with the awesome task/opportunity of being used by the Holy Spirit to deliver eternal truth that can impact these  lives  from Guyana, Haiti, and Jamaica that God will in turn use to speak through them to others in their home countries;  people I will never see or speak to. When I look at this opportunity that way, I am humbled. And I am even more grateful to the elders at SCC who allowed me this opportunity. Praise God.

See, there is a deeply serious side to me. And in the quiet introspection and humbling of these thoughts, I bid you a good night.

Agape’ and Shalom, (Gentile and Jew)

Rob

I enjoy telling you what is happening with me, O Theopholus, as a continuation of my previous adventures. But it takes so long to type it all out, then reread and rewrite so that it makes sense to you who may read. I have so much to tell and so little time. Other tasks I want to accomplish like reading, writing, preparing a sermon series for home, are not getting done because I spend too much time doing this blogging. I will have to force myself to limit my thoughts.

After teaching today, Cleton took me to the Atlantic side of the ocean. First up into the hills to view a deep valley that is called the Mesopotamian Valley which, as you might surmise from the name, has the most farming because it receives the most rain. Beautiful and lush and bursting with banana trees, it is. (Read that last sentence with a Yoda voice in your head.) During the trip Cleton mentioned to me what I had read somewhere, that the first Pitates movie (not Pittsburgh Pirates, Gene) and parts of the second were filmed here on St. Vincent.

From the Mesopotamian Valley, which interestingly enough is also in the mountains, we traveled to the coast where I got my first view of black sand beaches and what I think will be some great photos. The black sand is the result of volcanoes in some way. Black sand  is weird to see by the sea! Blue water, white waves and black sand. Looks equally weird between the toes when walking on it! I will do my best to include pictures when I get back. I was not aware that I would need camera software to download to the computer here, and I did not brng the software. (Once again, the ramifications of my age rears its ugly head.)

Last night we had potato chips for supper! I know what you are thinking, and so was I. But these potato chips are what Americans call french fries. This island was English in occupation a while back, and chips are fries. Like Canada, the money still bears images of the queen and looks like monopoly money to me. The fries were the American frozen ones and had been cooked (almost) and were cool, not even near warm. But it was better than a fourth meal of soup that they must have cooked in a garbage can because they had so much of it. And like good stewards, none of it gets wasted. These students have family members that are starving back home. Remember the old guilt trip our moms would play “There are people in other countries that are starving and would love to have your food!” Well, here it is true. The fries were ok, but a far cry from the best fries made by Karen Lawrence and crew at the concession stand of the Shively Christian Church basketball league! Just like momma used to make in the deep fryer when Crisco was legal and a recommended agent for all arteries!

I wish I could relate in detail what happened to Ismel, Gregory and I when we walked to the airport yesterday. We passed a bus stop and a black guy jumped out of a taxi scared to death and paid his fare. Here, taxis are minivans that cram in as many people as possible. Just think of the movies and the busses in India where people cram in and ride the roof, etc. Now replace the bus with a minivan. Now you have it! So this guy jumps out, and I guess he figured I was American because he said with a loud voice and saucer-eyes, “Do they always drive like that!! “(It was a two exclamation mark shout, close to three actually) Well, I could tell he wasn’t from the island from his accent. I asked from whence he came (I like using old English in once-English-occupied-territories) and he said, “Why from Manhattan, old chap.” Nah, he didn’t really use the old chap thing. I told him that if he was scared and from Manhattan, it must have been one real ride. He said, “I am not even where I wanted to go! I just had to get out of that death trap! (This abridged version is nowhere near as funny as the unabridged version.)

By the way. Fuel here is $11 plus change for one gallon!  Let that sink in.

For lunch today: rice (what’s new?) with chic peas (they don’t look female to me) otherwise known as garbonza (sp?)beans with chicken mixed in (careful of the gristle and bones) and a side of jello (cherry) with no Cool Whip. Tonight they said we will have Romen (sp? again) noodles.

Oh chik-fil-a, o chik-fil-a, my heart cries out to drive your way.   To taste your sandwich and waffle fries, the thought alone brings tears to my eyes.  Breaded chicken, oh my gosh, on breaded bun with polynesian sauce. A homespun milkshake the flavor of peach, could it be worth leaving this beach? Trade sun for  snow, wind chill freeze for warm breeze? Just for a sandwich? I’m not that desperate, please.   O chik-fil-a, o chik-fil-a, I will stay here and you come my way. If not, so sad, too bad.      

Now, do you see how long this bloghas gotten? But I will tell you one other aspect of my life in St. Vincent. In the mornings I take a lukewarm shower. Like in Nicaragua when I was there, there is just tepid water here since it never really gets cold. So, when I take a shower, I hit a switch that activates a small heating device near the shower head. This would never fly in the U.S., having an electrical part right near the source of the water release! But this is St. Vincent, and you pray that he will protect you when you are taking a shower. (That can make you feel weird, too, if you think that he is watching you) Well, anyway, there is one stream of water that varies in pressure from mediocre to hardly anything, so I have to wet my hair and turn off the water, shampoo my little bit of hair, then rinse and turn it off again after getting wet as much as possible. Next I lather up with the soap, then turn on the water again and hurry and rinse off. This is a big body to rinse off! At times the water is warm and then it immediately switches to tepid.  I play this game every morning. But I would rather play this game than, “it is so cold while I eat my chik-fil-a sandwich in Louisville” or “when will we ever see the grass again in Pennsylvania?” So much for global warming.

I love you guys and miss you all. Keep serving Christ no matter the weather. Too many people are headed for a hot eternity, and I don’t think it will be a “dry” heat”. 

And Roebin, try keeping up. Don’t do this tsunami response thing. 

Rob

I watched the superbowl last night…..alone (do I sense tears and sorrow? No? Oh well.) Seems that here the superbowl is not as super as soccer and cricket, so the students went to bed and everyone disappeared. I ended up watching it in my room sitting on the end of the bed looking at a 15 inch screen. I missed the first quarter and most of the second due to church, so about the 3rd quarter I asked myself, “What is wrong with this picture?” I answered myself, “No chips, no salsa, no cheese dip, no lounge chair, no pop, no ice cream and no one to scream with or laugh at the commercials with.” I know you have no sympathy since I was watching it on an island in the Caribbean where the temps are in the upper 80′s to 90 this week. And honestly, I would rather be watching it from here than from the frigid north. Sorry. But it is true. I cheered and I laughed alone, but it was ok. It was just the superbowl - a game with overpaid men running and hitting each other. It was 3 hours, this is 3 weeks. I’ll take the exchange.

My cold is easing and I am feeling a bit better each day. Thank you to those who are praying.

Sunny smiles!

That is not in response to the Beatles song. (Some of you will get that, others won’t.) Most won’t care.

Yesterday was not good for blogging. Not good for anything, actually. I was feeling so bad that I spent the day hanging, well not hanging actually, just in my room, sleeping for an hour every three hours. Cleton came by to take me sightseeing to a waterfall, etc, but I told him I had to just chill. I am feeling a little better today, but still have burning eyes from the clogged nasal thingies. Yuk. Couldn’t eat much yesterday, and that was such a disappointment since they had fish – and I do mean fish. It was a whole fish, fried in a frying pan with a bit of breading, then stewed in a mixture of sauce and pineapple. There they were, laying in the serving dish, stacked willy-nilly on top of each other with their fish eyes looking out through the breading and stew. I was not at all in an adventuresome mood, so I did not attempt eating the dear things. But after the others ate, it looked like a cartoon with all the fish heads and skeletons on the plates. I did have a bite of fish that Ismel was working on, and it was great. They eat the skin and all. I just didn’t have the appetite or the patience to eat and worry about all the bones. The fish was called Butterfish. The fish we ate the other day was called belahoo. Pretty cool name. I kept calling it hullabaloo. But, I guess that will happen in Louisville this summer.

For some reason I can remember something stuck in my memory from when I was growing up. A Mr. Herman, I believe, who lived above us on Bellwood Drive, the only guy with an in ground pool, was having some kind of function where they were cooking fish, and he got a bone stuck in his throat. He was ok, but I remember that the ambulance (how do you say that Joy?) had to take him to the hospital. That is all I remember, so I guess that is why I hesitate when asked to eat fish that is not found in the freezer section with Gorton’s on the box! Fish may not be caught square, but I feel a lot better about eating them when they are! Interesting enough, it is a childhood memory like that, the first time my mom let me taste her coffee and I was revolted, that keeps me from drinking coffee even to this day. When I arrived here they were absolutely shocked to meet an American who does not drink coffee! No one else here drinks it either. I think I may have landed in a Mormon outpost! 

Speaking of which, when I was in town last week, two white guys wearing black pants and white shirts and ties, and sweating like pigs at a ham breakfast walked by. No thinking twice about that. But I do admire their evangelistic efforts. Wonder where the church would be if we were that persistent and obedient.

Since I mentioned one menu item, I will close with mentioning lunch today, and then tomorrow blog about other than the culinary stuff. But today, on an 80+ degree day, I, we, had hot soup. The soup looked yellowish and was delicious. In it was plantain, some root that looked and tasted like potatoes, but are not. There were sweet potatoes that are not orange, but when cooked, almost transparent. There were dumplings that are a delicacy in Guyana, and there was plantain, which is like a banana, but not. If the banana is sweet, this cooked plantain was even sweeter. There were also pieces of pork. The mixture was served from a large pot in which the pig’s tail was also stewing. One of the professor’s wives ate the pig’s tail. More power to her! But the soup was excellent. And for desert, guess what?!?!?!? Jello and ice cream. Ice cream!!!!! But it was only one of those little itty bitty sundae cups served individually with the cardboard cover on it that you remove by pulling a little ear tab. You know what I mean? We used to eat them with little flat wooden spoons when we were kids. I used a regular spoon that would have had the ice cream gone in a spoon and a half, but I took little bites and it lasted for 3 tastes!  I savored each one. Unfortunately, it was enough to bring out the ice cream junkie in me again.

By the way, I am having a great time. I really am. this is exciting.

Love to all of you, and thanks to those who take time to type a quick note.

Island Rob.