Hello everyone,
 
For those of you that don’t know me my name is Jeffrey Blain and I enjoy riding my bike and have a love of the outdoors.  I have been an avid cyclist since 1983 and an advocate of the sport just as long.  So, I am always looking for ways to combine the sport I love with helping others in need.  The Fuller Center for Housing has given me the opportunity to do this and much more.  I am so grateful and appreciative that I get to meet and ride with like-minded people. 
Last year I participated in a fund raising event for starving children in Africa. The one-week event, which entailed; for every mile I rode for the week I would generate $1 to the cause.  I am happy to say that I rode 690 miles in one week, the longest day being 173 miles.  As a whole we raised over $50,000 for the kids in Africa.  When I told my friends and family about what I did, they all inevitably asked, “Why didn’t you tell me, I would have contributed as well.”  Well, this time I am giving everyone a ‘heads-up’ about my latest fund raising event.
This March I will be riding in a one-week 400 mile fund raising event from Tennessee to Mississippi on the Natchez Trail.  The Fuller Center for Housing is a 501(c)(3) Christian based non-profit organization that provides housing for families in need.  Not only do they do this in our home borders but internationally as well.   All donations are tax-deductible and the 501(c)(3) number is available upon request.
With your financial generosity perhaps you and I can help one family meet a basic human need: SHELTER!  My goal is to raise $3,750 for this event.  It may be a cliché, but every little bit does help!  You can participate by donating $.01, $.10, or $1 per mile, or more if you wish. 
I wish to thank you all in advance for helping me to achieve my $3,750 fund raising goal.
Namaste,
Jeffrey Blain

It's with great privilege and honour that I'm announcing my effort to do my part in the re-building of Haiti.

On Jan. 12, 2010, a 7.0-magnitude earthquake struck Port-au-Prince, Haiti.

The devastation:
- More than two million people were affected.
- Nearly 190,000 houses were damaged; of those, 105,000 were completely destroyed.
- More than 500,000 survivors remain homeless - a population as large as Oslo, Norway; Panama City, Panama; or Las Vegas, Nevada.

A dire need for helping hands
Haiti has long been the poorest country in the western hemisphere. In a country with few building inspectors and poor construction techniques, it was only a matter of time before tragedy struck.
When that tragedy appeared in the form of the January 2010 earthquake, the results were devastating. Thousands of buildings collapsed, killing 200,000 people.

Today, hundreds of thousands are still living in tents and permanent housing is Haiti's greatest need. Our volunteers are helping Haitians get back on their feet by building highly earthquake- and hurricane-resistant houses.

March 25-31, 2012 - Partnered with the Grace Fuller Center, One Small House, and homeowners and local Haitian craftspeople I will be matching my effort to the efforts of other volunteers, in continuing a project that was started in Lambi  The project calls to construct six homes as part of a 56-home development already underway in Lambi, a site located between the cities of Carrefour and Leogane, not far from the epicenter of the earthquake.

http://onesmallhouse.org/haiti-build/

The Congo River is the deepest and the ninth longest on the planet. It is the lifeline for a nation in which roads and railways are lacking. Goods are shipped, food is caught, clothes are washed, people bathe, and all sorts of wonderful acts happen on the river. It is the source of life for the over 30 million people who live in the region.

Over 11,000 forest plants have been catalogued in the area and 1,100 of the species are found nowhere else in the world. The river is life. Yet in a nation where few people know how to swim, it is a dangerous existence for many. We were told the week before we arrived in Mbandaka, just upstream from the Disciples of Christ compound, a boat with over 60 people crashed into a dock in the dark of night and all of its passengers drowned. How many untold lives have been swallowed up by the Congo waters?

We were set back a day in our travels waiting for our rented Toyota to be repaired for the journey to Bolomba. This gave our team an opportunity to visit and interact with the people who lived along the Congo. The children were fun to play with. We enjoyed having the men show us the fish they caught and how they maintained their wooden boats called pirogues. We caught a good glimpse of the bicycle culture in Africa with people carefully washing their decorated boda boda (bicycle taxies) in the Congo River. This caught the eye of our founder of The Fuller Center Bicycle Adventure Ryan Iafigliola.

I was caught up in the swirl of love of being with our group, Leslie, Leah, Craig, Ryan, Kevin and David and the anthropological experience of being in a new land in such a beautiful place. The river village people were very welcoming. The “harbor master” alternated between taking cell phones from incoming boats and making cassava (manioc) pestles, which we learned was a staple for the Congolese.

We even had some moments of silliness. One young man walked over and saw Leah. "Elle est une belle dame!" the young man yelled from the shore. "Elle parle le Français!" another man cautioned. And immediately they all switched to speaking Lingala.

Wednesday morning we were awakened by intense but beautiful drumming around 4:30 in the morning. We were told the drumming was a traditional way of celebrating the birth of twins.

I asked Leslie to pen a poem about her experience on the river. She said her emotions were that of “Being carried to a distant shore where separation exists no more. All seemed right with the world, there by the river…Time eternal…Free…Home.”

Enjoy Leslie’s beautiful poem and pray for the people on the Congo River.

Rising sun,
beating drum,
in celebration
of life abundant.

The fullness of Life
embraced here;
danger-peace,
laughter-tear,
life-death,
night-day,
love without fear.

All journeying
on this River of Life
ever flowing,
merging into
the Ocean of Existence.

Gregg Thomas, father of Leah Gernetzke, our communications/multimedia specialist, also wrote a song aptly called "River of Life," featuring several international artists. Click here to listen!

This song can also be downloaded on iTunes

 

 

 

 

The Fuller Center for Housing has no creeds.  We are not a political organization.  We are not “left” nor “right” as the terms are used in our media.  We build houses and in doing so nurture the development of healthier communities.  So it is with some trepidation that I share some experiences in the Congo with social commentary.  A one-week visit in another country in no way makes the traveler an expert on that society.  But I type on because I believe I experienced some glimpses of truth about this marvelous and suffering African nation.

The stories of the wars in Congo are horrific.  An estimated 5 to 6 million people have been killed since 1997 when a rebellion toppled the Mobutu regime.  According to the literature from our hosts in The Disciples of Christ Global Ministries office, the current war is not an ethnic war, but one being waged for access to precious rare-earth minerals found in the Congo.  The story of one particular mineral – coltan –  is illustrative of the source of resource-based aggressions against the Congolese.  This tragedy has created more deaths than any other conflict since World War II, but it doesn’t get the attention in the media as, for example, the Middle East conflicts.

Columbite-tantalite (Coltan) is a black tar like mineral found in the Congo.  An estimated 64-80% of the world’s coltan is in the Congo.  When refined it becomes a heat resistant powder that holds a high electric charge.  Coltran is mined illegally and the revenues from smuggling fund the military occupation of the Congo, thereby prolonging the conflict. Rwanda, Uganda and Burundi are among the leading exporters of coltan to the Chinese electronic industry.  Almost no coltan is found in Rwanda and Burundi.  This simple observation helps explain some of the current violence in the Congo.  

If you are reading this blog you are most likely using a machine that was produced with coltan.  I’m blogging on a computer produced through exploitation. I also love my new camera that took the pictures of the Congo that you see on our website. It’s this appetite for laptop computers, cellular phones, ink jet printers, hearing aids, video games and cameras and a host of other things that make life better probably suppresses our interest in how they are made and who makes them. We can be assured that if King Leopold were still in power, his repressive focus would not be rubber but on coltan.  If advances in science find a replacement for coltan, as they have with invention of synthetic rubber, there are plenty of other rare-earth minerals in the Congo that would likely continue the mistreatment of the Congolese. 

War is horrific enough, but the preferred choice of combat and terrorism against Congolese women is unimaginable.  A recent May 2011 study in the New York Times reported that one woman is raped every minute in the Congo.  Accurate statistics are hard to gather in the jungle villages and the attacks are underreported because of the stigma attached to rape victims.  Survivors who return to their families are often rejected as damaged property.   An estimated 1.8 million Congolese women have been raped making it one of the worst crimes against humanity on the planet.

Much of the terrorism and fighting has been occurring in the Eastern portions of the country.  We stayed and work in the Western region near the Congo River, so our program activity has been able to go on without threat.  There continues to be fear, however, that minerals have been discovered in and around Bolomba, so the relative peace may not be long lasting.  

In Mbandaka, we stayed two houses up the river from the house that Millard and Linda Fuller lived in.  It is no longer owned by the church – Instead, It is now the property of a minerals research company and is covered with barbed wire and protected by armed guards, perhaps an ominous symbol for the future of the region.

This backdrop of information is an introduction to a story that I want to share about our arrival in Bolomba.  We expected to take a 6-hour boat ride to the project.  But the local team couldn’t secure a boat for us and we instead traveled for 12 hours on a very bumpy road through the jungle.  We could see that the road had at one point been well maintained by the Belgians, but since their hurried exit from the Congo in 1960, the road had fell into disrepair.  Nature tends to return to its original state, and the jungle closed in on the road, turning it into a mere bicycle path for much of the journey.  Bridges were out and there were times when people who helped us cross the streams felt we didn’t thank them financially enough and they turned angry.  Congolese wear their emotions on their surface.  Happiness is shown without reservation, but so is anger, as we learned.

To make matters worse, due to transportation problems, two members of our party got separated from us and we were unsure of their safety.  We were anxious about reconnecting with them when we arrived in Bolomba.  We were hoping that they made it to our destination ahead of us, but our hearts sunk when we discovered they had not made it there.  

We were greeted in Bolomba with a huge, spectacular parade.  Hundreds of people showed up and sang songs and chanted celebrating our arrival but we were still worried about our missing members.  It was bizarre to experience such jubilation and despair at the same moment.  We asked the Bolomba Fuller Center leadership team to postpone further ceremonies that evening so we could talk about finding our missing team members.  They agreed and sent the crowd away.  By this time it was well after 6 p.m., which is sunset on the equator.   We set out to walk nearly a mile in the dark down to the Catholic Church compound.

The crowd walked with us.  Several boys surrounded our party to keep the crowd from pushing in on us.  As they would push people away, I could see them getting angry.  My anxiety increased.  Leslie O’Tool from Church of the Savior in Knoxville was walking beside me to my left.  To her left, was Craig Martindale from Koinonia. Craig put his hand on the small of Leslie’s back and started to think through what would happen if the crowd closed in on us.  Behind her was her friend Kevin Collins, also from Church of the Savior, who stayed between Leslie and the young men holding hands trying to protect us.

I reached down and grabbed hold of Leslie’s hand. We walked the entire length holding hands and upon our arrival at the house I felt the need to apologize because my hand was so sweaty from nervousness.

We arrived safely at the compound and by morning our missing team members were back with us safe and sound.

But something interesting happened – Leslie was approached by a woman who commented on us holding hands.  She communicated that they need more examples of that in the Congo.  Men and women do not show public affection and protectiveness of each other.

I was so worried during that walk that I didn’t even think about being observed, much less the fact that a man holding hands with a woman would break a cultural and social norm.

Leslie is a Yoga instructor and a fantastic poet. She wrote about the experience using metaphors for God’s presence with humans using the term Lover and the Beloved experiencing union.  While many Christians may be unfamiliar with the language, I think it represents one of Clarence Jordan’s favorite Christian words – “incarnation,” or God among us and in us.

It appears the act of men and women holding hands is revolutionary in the Congo.  This is hard to imagine in our Western culture.  But think about how revolutionary the Koinonia Farm experiment was when the simple act of whites and African Americans sharing a meal together was taboo in the 1950s.  The visceral reaction by the people who observed this practice lead to boycotts, bombings and other acts of terrorism.  

People of different races sharing meals together is a simple act, one that’s symbolic of the Kingdom of God.  But it’s hardly what one would describe as a militant solution to social problems.  It was a vision Martin Luther King, Jr.  shared in his “I have a dream” speech in Washington, D.C.  when he said, “I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.”  Today we would add “sisterhood.”   

Enjoy Leslie’s beautiful poem and say a prayer for the Congolese people, especially the women.

Unsure of everything,
of everyone, of the night,
and what it will bring.
A journey into the heart
of the wilderness,
where all that came before
exists no more.
Complete in my surrender
to the Divine,
led by the heart,
it is your hand I find.
And you become my world
into which I pour love,
as light pours into the dark.
All become a witness
to the sacred union
of Lover and Beloved
again as One.
We become the Living Flame,
the Revelation, of that
which is eternal-
Love.