2008 it is (impeachment is probably too much to hope for)

Once again Bryce has come up with a great idea. Once again I am going to steal it. Before you read another word, head over to his blog to see his thoughts about some of the big names in the 2008 race.

Now that you're back, let me say that I really like the idea of expressing my thoughts about the candidates this early in the race. I am even more excited about the prospect of looking back in two years (or six, or ten) and reflecting on what my impressions were when the race was just starting. Unlike Bryce, I am going to devote one full post to each candidate in order to really flesh out my thoughts. This is going to be a massive project, so it will probably take me a while, but I am determined to see it to fruition.

All horses to the starting gate.

John McCain (The Grand Ole Party)


If I had to pick a time when I first became disenchanted with the modern political machine (and by that I mean the combination of a cynical government and a compliant press), I would undoubtedly choose the 2000 Presidential primary in South Carolina. I was a big fan of John McCain back then. After the years of pettiness that ended the once promising Clinton era, McCain seemed like a breath of fresh air. While I was undoubtedly pulling for Gore, I was still excited about the prospect of a general election race against McCain because I saw it as a no lose situation for the American people.

Bush, clearly the favorite son of the GOP establishment (no pun intended), had been unexpectedly trounced by McCain in New Hampshire, and was losing ground nationally as well. Until South Carolina. In South Carolina, McCain had the decency to oppose the use of the Confederate flag as a part of the official state flag. He had the decency to call out George W. for visiting Bob Jones University, a school that, at the time, did not allow interracial dating. The more time that McCain spent in South Carolina, the more I liked him.

He was doing so well in South Carolina, and the chosen son so poorly, that the decision was made by the Bush team and the GOP that McCain needed to be taken out of the race. And he was. Somehow Bush, aided by the GOP talking heads, was able to accuse McCain, a Vietnam veteran and prisoner of war who had been tortured, of being soft on defense. This is a man who, while still living and still in government, had a naval vessel named after him. Yes, there really is a USS John McCain. Unbelievably, this ridiculous claim stuck. Bush went on to win, decisively, in South Carolina, and was given the GOP nomination at the convention a few months later. We all know how that story turns out.

I can't tell you how devastated I was by what happened in South Carolina. Even as a student of history, the ridiculous claims of the Bush camp, and their shameless coverage by the press, struck me as particularly heinous. At the time I remember thinking "but all of this is just so patently false." In retrospect, those were the good old days. But why bring up all of this history anyway? Isn't this about McCain '08? Well, I bring it up because I think it is important to show just how much of my esteem John McCain has lost.

McCain used to be a man that voters could depend on to speak truth to power, even in the midst of it. Those days are long, long gone. It's sad that so many pundits now use his "Straight Shooter" nickname, and reputation, ironically. Sad, but not uncalled for. Where does one even start? How about his relative silence on immigration while serving as the Senator of a state where it long ago passed into the realm of crisis? Of course there is his very public courting of key figures in the religious right, including Jerry Falwell, a man he once called "an agent of intolerance." Worst of all, perhaps, is McCain's compromise with the Bush administration on torture. Other than campaign finance reform and Senate ethics reform, both of which were badly botched, I cannot name a single thing that McCain has done in the last six years that I like. Come to think of it, I don't have much more of anything to say about this candidate at all. The hope I once found in John McCain has been replaced by little more than regrets about what could have been.

But none of this really matters because, sadly, I am no longer John McCain's target voter. He is clearly looking to rally what Andrew Sullivan calls the "Christianist" base, while hoping that his maverick reputation will still resonate with the independents and libertarians that have supported him for so long. My call: no one is buying it. McCain's base has already largely abandoned him, disgusted by the behavior that I have just listed. And the GOP base? Forget about it. They trust McCain less than they trust Lieberman, and he still caucuses with the Democrats. This is a party that prizes loyalty above all else. Remember Reagan's "Eleventh Commandment," never speak ill of a fellow Republican? Not even his continued support of Bush's surge (cough, escalation) will wash the bad taste out of their mouths.

The only real things that McCain's got going for him at this point are name recognition and his reputation as a war hero. Even if the voters in the general election would pull for him, they will probably never get the chance to decide. Unless the GOP gets REALLY desperate, he will never make it past the primaries. McCain's only hope is that everyone else in the race looks worse than he does. Fortunately for him, his major competitors at this point are Giuliani and Romney. Actually, McCain '08 is starting to look pretty plausible after all.

"Some of those that work forces, are the same that burn crosses..."

Three pieces of border news and a comment on the Border Patrol.

With an already bad situation in Iraq steadily deteriorating, I can't imagine the border gets all that much news coverage elsewhere. That's just a guess. To gauge this, I want to know if anyone who reads this blog heard that a Border Patrol agent shot to death a 22 year old Mexican migrant from the state of Puebla about three weeks ago.

It happened about 8 miles from where I am sitting, out near where we leave the water in the desert. Like all Border Patrol shootings, the details surrounding the "incident" have not been released.

In other border deaths news, another body was found in the desert last week by the family of a missing migrant. When he didn't show up or call, the family called the Border Patrol to advise them that he was missing. Eventually the family came from Florida and California to search for him. I'm glad that they found him, but sad that he had already died from "exposure."

And finally, in honor of Rage Against the Machine reuniting, here's a sad story of a racist wearing a badge. Two very close friends from Agua Prieta were visiting another very close friend in Tucson this weekend. On their way back to the border they decided to visit a state park and hike around the lake. As they were leaving the park they were stopped by Border Patrol and asked for their papers. They supplied their tourist visas (which they have had for a number of years) and were told by the agent that these papers were for "shopping at Wal-Mart and then going back to Mexico." He then called them a derogatory term for Mexican migrants, told them that he wasn't stupid, and accused them of being smugglers and "helping (expletive) migrants." I'm told that they were lucky as the agent could have seized their Visas without a guarantee that they would be returned.

I am aware that this post is pretty harsh on the Border Patrol. In many ways I regret that. I appreciate the work that the Border Patrol does in fighting drug smuggling, something I have no love for. I also appreciate the lives that they have saved by finding lost, sick, or injured migrants in the desert. The fact is that I have a number of friends down here who are agents, one very good friend in fact. I think they are good men. I wish more agents were like them.

That's A Nice Reminder

So I've been going a little bit crazy lately. I feel like my work is all out of sorts and I have been spending A LOT of annoying time on the phone with tech support companies.

I still feel that way, but stopping to play this game helped my perspective quite a bit.

Sim Sweatshop. Check it out. www.simsweatshop.com (link's aren't working for me again. My main problem with blooger.)

Friday Puppy Blogging Part Two

So, as some of you now know, Meghan and I have been in the business of puppy ranching these last few weeks.

It started when Kyle and Erik came down to visit me here in AP.

One morning we were walking down our street on the way to get breakfast, when Meghan noticed a little puppy running around an abandoned lot two doors down. We went over to check it out and were greeted by four more tiny puppies living under some trash.

Erik told Kyle that he should take one back with him, which is why the infamous illegal immigrant puppy Sonora is now living happily in Ft. Collins.



Sonora in Kyle's pocket


The weather took a turn for the worse after Kyle and Erik left with Sonora, and Meghan and I were worried that the other four puppies might die. Sadly, the smallest one did die, and so we decided to bring the rest of them into our apartment and look for permanent homes.

And here are the little buggers. They only have nicknames because we didn't want to become too attached.




This is the little girl. She's secretly my favorite.


This is "Sola." She is easily one of the strangest looking dogs that I have ever seen. One eye is bigger than the other, and it also has a black ring around it. She sort of looks like a cross between a goat, a cow, and a polar bear.


And that's the little bear. He used to be a lover, now he's more of a biter.


Adorable.

We have found homes for two of them, and they will be leaving us tomorrow. I'll miss the cuddling. I won't miss the poop.

Meet Your Neighbors: Trains Now Scare Me Edition

Here's another edition of Meet Your Neighbors for all you cool kids living out in Los Angeles.

It is my great privilege to introduce you to a find young man named Junior. That's his nickname, so I'm pretty comfortable sharing it with you all.

I have been privileged to encounter some pretty exceptional people working down here, but Junior might get my vote for the most incredible person that I have met in the last six months. Why? Oh let me count the ways. For a start, Junior is from Honduras. If you've read the article from my last post, you'll have some idea why I am so impressed with migrants from anywhere south of Mexico. Junior is also traveling alone, quite a feat for anyone, but more so for someone not from Mexico. Not only is he traveling alone, unlike most migrants he has no one waiting for him in Los Angeles (family, friends, etc.), just the desire to look for work and send money back to his mother and siblings. This means that he has no support system at all. No one to send him money if/when he runs out or gets robbed (when I met him he had $19 and change. I gave him everything in my wallet, which was sadly only ten more). Junior also managed to first avoid, and later fool, both Mexican and U.S. immigration officials into thinking that he was not in fact from Honduras. Not an easy task. Finally, Junior rode the train all the way from Guatemala to Phoenix (where he was caught and deported). Again, an incredibly difficult, scary, and dangerous thing to do, especially alone.

All that, and he's really just an incredibly nice kid.

To be fair, in the immigration "game"* that takes place here on the border, there is no doubt that Central Americans are the underdogs. Everyone is gunning for them. Mexican migration wants to deport them. American migration wants to find them and ship them home as well. They take special pride in weeding them out and being able to differentiate them from Mexicans. Central Americans are also more likely to be assaulted, left for dead in the desert, cheated out of their money, and beaten up. The migration machine is mostly run by Mexicans, who I am sad to say often abuse one another. This is multiplied exponentially for someone coming from outside of Mexico.

It was tough watching Junior walk out the door. I like the kid, I wish he was sticking around. I also know that he was/is getting back on a train to cross into the U.S. I really don't want to read about him in the paper after he loses a leg, or possibly his life. And I know the meat grinder that is Los Angeles, and the exploitation that awaits him there.

*I say game not becuase I think that immigration as it now exists if fun, but because so many of the people that I know down here think of it that way. If a migrant gets caught by Border Patrol, they get returned to their country of origin, and get to try again. It makes the whole thing feel like a massive game of capture the flag. The problem is, if you lose you can die. And people lose a lot.

A Must Read on the Border

From the New York Times comes an essential read for anyone who wants to understand the border, and just how far it now extends.

Tapachula, where this report was researched, is the city just down the mountain from Salvador Urbina. It's where I spent my day at the market and bought my firewords. El Buen Pastor (Jesus the Good Pastor) is the house where Luis, the Guatemalan man that went with us to Chiapas, stayed at after he lost his legs under the train.

Follow up post coming from me with some thoughts on the article and the issues it raises.




TAPACHULA, Mexico
Adriana Zehbrauskas for The New York Times

Donar Antonio Ramírez Espinas lost both his legs during his attempt to cross into the United States. “You make the decision to look for a better life,” he said, “without knowing that you could end up like this.”
They had been in Mexico for only a few hours and already federal police officers had forced them to strip and had taken almost all their cash, they said. They had some 1,500 miles to go to reach the United States border, with no food or water and $9 each.

They intended to walk along the Chiapas coast for the first 250 miles through a dozen towns where migrants are regularly robbed or raped. Then they planned to clamber aboard a freight train with hundreds of other immigrants for the trip north, a dangerous journey that has left hundreds before them maimed after they fell under the wheels.

“It’s dangerous, yes, one risks one’s life,” said one of the men, Noé Hernández. “One risks it if you have a family member in the States to help you. It’s not just for fun we go through Mexico.”

A month ago, Mexico’s new president, Felipe Calderón, announced measures to slow the flow of illegal immigrants across Mexico’s southern border and reduce crime in this lush but impoverished region. He stepped up the presence of soldiers and federal police here, told of plans for a guest worker program and promised joint state and federal operations to catch illegal immigrants.

But much remains to be done to stop or deter the migrants, and for now the measures have had little effect. Social workers and volunteers who aid the migrants say they keep coming.

Every three days, 300 to 500 Central Americans swarm the freight train in Arriaga, strapping themselves with ropes or belts to the tops of cars or riding between the wagons, they say.

The migrants still wade across the Suchiate River between Guatemala and Mexico with little hindrance. Corruption is rampant. Soldiers and police officers on the Mexican side extort money from the migrants but seldom turn them around, aid workers and migrants said.

“It’s an open border,” said Francisco Aceves Verdugo, a supervisor in the government agency, Grupos Beta, that gives food, water and medicine to illegal migrants. “We are confronting a monster so big in the form of corruption that we aren’t doing anything.”

The federal authorities do catch and deport illegal immigrants from Central America on their trek north — about 170,000 last year, according to Leticia Rodríguez, a spokeswoman for the National Migration Institute.

On the evening of Jan. 19, as part of Mr. Calderón’s new get-tough policy, about 400 federal police officers stopped the freight train just after it left Arriaga and arrested more than 100 immigrants who had climbed aboard.

Still, aid workers say a majority gets through. The biggest deterrent, migrants say, is not federal authorities but armed thugs who waylay them along the railroad tracks or on paths through the countryside used to avoid the immigration posts along the main highway.

This month, Misael Mejía, 27, from Comayagua, Honduras, was awaiting the train in Arriaga with nine other young men from his town. They had walked for 11 days after wading across the Suchiate to get to the railhead in Arriaga.

None of them had a dime after being ambushed a week before by three men in ski masks in daylight near Huehuetán. Two of the men carried machetes, the third a machine gun.

“They told us to lay down and take off our clothes,” Mr. Mejía said. “I lost my watch, about 500 Honduran lempiras, and 40 Mexican pesos,” about $31.

Mr. Mejía said he would press on. He has a brother in Arizona who has promised to pick him up if he can run the gantlet through the United States border patrol. He left a $200-a-month job as a driver behind, along with his wife. His brother makes $700 a week as a carpenter.

“I felt hopeless in Honduras,” he said. “Because I could never afford a house, not even a car. There is nothing I could have.”

Down the street from the tracks, at the Hearth of Mercy shelter, where illegal immigrants can get a free hot meal and medicine, Juan Antonio Cruz, 16, hunched over a bowl of rice and told how he had left El Salvador after members of the Mara Salvatrucha street gang had threatened to kill him. “They wanted me to join them,” he said.

It was his second attempt to reach Arizona, he said. The first time he had endured eight freezing nights and sweltering days aboard the train by strapping his belt to bar atop a tanker car. The border patrol caught him as he crossed into Nogales, Ariz., and sent him back home to Usulután, where the gang members threatened him again.

“When I think about the train, I feel fear and panic, for the thieves who attack you, and also for falling off,” he said softly.

For some, that is how the dream ends, with a fall under the train’s heavy, whirring wheels.

At the Shelter of Jesus the Good Pastor in Tapachula, Donar Antonio Ramírez Espinas rubbed the bandaged stumps of his legs, sheared off above the knee, as he recalled the night of March 26, 2004, when he dozed off while riding between cars, lost his grip and fell onto the tracks.

“I fell face down, and at first I didn’t think anything had happened,” he said. “When I turned over, I saw, I realized, that my feet didn’t really exist.”

Back in Honduras, he had been working menial jobs in a parking lot and at a medical warehouse, making about $120 a month. Then he and a few buddies decided to try their luck in the States.

“You make the decision to look for a better life, not to continue with the life your father led, and for this you risk your life, without knowing that you could end up like this,” he said. “An amputee.”

After the accident, he spent two years at the shelter in Tapachula, wrestling with depression and thoughts of suicide. When those black days finally passed, he returned home for five months, only to find his parents, his former wife and even his three children had trouble accepting his disability. “My 9-year-old said, ‘Papa, why did you come back like this?’ ” he remembered. “I didn’t dare answer him.”

Mr. Ramírez has returned to the shelter here, where he hopes to learn a trade — fashioning prosthetic legs and arms for other victims of the train. Others at the shelter told similar stories. Some doubted they would be able to make a living in their home countries, where even getting a wheelchair is hard.

But some of those with lesser injuries insisted their accident was just a temporary setback. Minor Estuardo Cortez, 33, from Guatemala, lost his left foot under a train wheel while climbing aboard in Oaxaca State. At the shelter, he has healed and learned to walk with a prosthetic foot. He intends to continue his journey. If he reaches Houston, he says, he has relatives who can get him a construction job.

“If something happens to me, I don’t scare easy,” he said. “I’ll do it again to see who wins, the train or me. Only thing is I can’t run, so I’ll have to wait until it’s stopped to get on.”

My Boxer Briefs Are Sweatfree

Last week I was really out of underwear.

I got to the point where I had worn through a few old pairs, left a good set in Chiapas, and needed to make the investment that every man I know tries desperately to put off, new underwear.

I had made it my goal to, if at all possible, meet this need without resorting to buying something that could have been made in a sweatshop. I'm equally unimpressed with companies that manufacture goods at rock-bottom wages, but not in what is technically a sweatshop, and then jack up the price on us. In this instance, however, I was simply looking to avoid anything possibly made in a sweatshop.

In a town like Douglas, AZ (as in most places in America), looking for a product not potentially made in a sweatshop was pretty much impossible, which sent me straight to the internet. Unsure of where to begin, I started my search for fair-trade underwear with a little trip to google.

My query of "sweatshop free boxer briefs" yielded "about" 19,900 results, the very first of which was the promising looking Justice Clothing.

Following that link brought me to http://www.justiceclothing.com/thereis/justice/lw20300.html (sorry, links aren't working for me again), which, sure enough, was a site where I could order a union made (in Pottstown, PA no less!) three pack of white, grey, or black boxer briefs, in my choice of size, and have them shipped right to my door.

That was pretty dang easy. And, sadly enough, quite costly. My three brand new boxer briefs cost me $21.00 plus $5.05 more for shipping and handling. "Ouch," I thought.

But then I checked it out.

Lowest of the low cost (so we are told) walmart.com had a four pack of boxer briefs for $15.34 plus $3.94 for shipping and handling.

Target was even worse, charging 9.99 for EACH boxer brief (less for Euro-trunks, but that's not something I'm prepared to wear), and offering me free shipping if I bought three. Thanks for the free shipping on my $30.00 of cotton!

Ok, let's do the math here.

Target's boxer briefs were obviously $9.99 each (provided you buy three, which is what I wanted).
Wal-Mart, including shipping and handling, came out to $4.82 per boxer brief for a pack of four.
My three boxer briefs from Justice Clothing/Lifewear (complete with a seriously so much better horizontal fly) cost me $8.68 cents each. If I had ordered more packs the price would have dropped even further.

So here's what we've got:
Target: $10.00, nice store aesthetics and clever advertisements, clear supporter of sweatshop labor, and marginal to bad employee pay.

Wal-Mart: $4.82, terrible shopping experience, proven price gouging, terrible employee pay and benefits, clear supporter of sweatshop labor.

Justice Clothing: $8.68, easy to use site, good pay and benefits for their employees, committed to fighting sweatshop labor.


To me the choice is very clear.

Even better than avoiding sweatshop labor was finding a company that I feel good about supporting. Justice Clothing, if you take a look, has a whole range of products at pretty affordable prices, especially when you consider that they are actually compensating their employees for their labor. How novel of them.

This whole exercise makes me that much more committed to using my money as a force for positive change, instead of just using it, as I say, "to do no harm." What I mean is that rather than trying to avoid making purchasing and lifestyle choices at places where I think that other people are paying a high cost for the price I receive, I intend to seek out purchases that help people to empower themselves. My experience with boxer briefs shows just how easy, simple, and cost-competitive that can be.

Next time you need something (anything), try looking for it on google first. Put in your ideal product (an environmentally friendly stove cleaner, for example) and see what happens. I think you'll be surprised. Even if it costs you a little bit more money, I think it's worth it. Try it, and let me know what you find.


*As another aside, most retail companies provide pictures of their products, on real people, when you shop online (see link to Justice Clothing). Needless to say, it proved to be somewhat awkward trying to buy boxer briefs at the office.*

Oh No He Didn't

I used to like conspiracy theories and government secrets and all sorts of stuff like that, but I left it all behind in the eighth grade when I decided it didn't matter all that much who killed John F. Kennedy.

I've even managed to dislike the Bush administration profoundly (and from the primaries of the 2000 election) without paying any attention to all the talk of secret government plots against the American people, etc.

I think I was too hasty...( sometimes the image of the video takes a minute to load)



This, I believe, would be the straw that breaks my back.
He's not even saying this in private. This is in the Senate. On TV.
This is the man watching out for your legal rights.
Wow.

So I guess they won't be joining us for the vigil...

"Volunteer Aaron Boeke, 22, of Colorado places crosses Tuesday in Douglas for immigrants who died crossing the border in or near Cochise County."


It turns out that I was in the newspaper recently, the distinguished Tucson Citizen.

As far as I can tell there was never any story, just a picture and a caption. The really priceless part for me were the seven comments made after the picture, included for your enjoyment:

1. TODAY IN THE NEWS:

Some White-guilt feel-good places two crosses by the port of entry to scare away Mexican shoppers.

2. Hey, great idea. Let's glorify ILLEGAL border crossers and let's make them martyrs. Message to ILLEGALS; it's now honorable to ILLEGALLY cross into the US. Morons.

3. Is there a story to go with the pictures? If so, I cannot bringit up, but I can pretty much guess what it would say anyway!

4. So no story and only pics… hum… I was waiting for the story but, hey, I thought this was a NEWSPAPER, I could be wrong… Star, take it down if your writers can’t think of a story to go with it.

I do want anyone thinking of crossing illegally into the US to know that I know how those illegals could have lived, and how to guarantee their not dieing in the desert… are you ready?? ... They could have chosen to stay in their own country and not try to invade ours... or they could have gotten a Visa or applied for citizenship, they could have come legally. I am sorry to sound heartless but I have no sympathy for someone stupid enough to try and take this deadly and illegal shortcut after years and years of deaths in the desert.

5. Knowing, the biased star, the story would go something like this:

MEMORIAL TO MIGRANT WORKERS
Today, activists planted white crosses as a reminder of how the heartless border enforcement policy of the United States and the Border Patrol are driving totally honest migrant workers to their unwitting death. The Border Patrol could not be reached for comment.
However, Gloria Allred Lopez-Miranda with "Mi Casa es Su Casa Humanos" told the Star: "This is another example of the United States government punishing honest hard-working criminals who only want a better way of life. It's such a racist and underhanded policy."

When asked for her reaction to the recent I.C.E. raids at meat packing plants across the country, Lopez-Miranda stated "I think the government is framing migrant workers. I can't believe that someone coming across the border for work would steal someone's identity to obtain employment. I want to file a lawsuit against the government on behalf of those migrant workers. They have a right to sneak into this country for employement and not pay taxes!"

The Dept of Homeland Security and Border Patrol could not be reached for comment.

6. These people ought to be directing their protests at Mexico, not the US. It’s the corruption, lack of opportunity, and social problems in Mexico that drive these people to cross the border.

7. Mr Boeke needs to go back to Colorado maybe someone up there will explain to him that these people died committing a crime, they are not to be glorified for it.
If they had not committed the crime of illegal crossing an international border across a desert they might still be alive.
They were stupid and suffered their fate, their demise because of it.


I guess that I should find these comments sad, but at this point I find them sort of funny. What we were actually doing was dedicating a bench commemorating eight migrants who died after they were swept away and trapped by a storm drain just a few feet north of the border. The crosses that I am laying down carry the names of migrants who have died here in Cochise County. We use them in a vigil that we hold every Tuesday evening. I plan on talking about that at some point, but I am still undecided about what I want to say.

The things is, these comments make the whole thing seem like it wasn't a real problem, like it wasn't complex and ugly and funny and tragic, and all those things that can make life so difficult to deal with. I used to find that sad, but I guess now I just like to laugh about it.

Also, that picture makes me look like I have to poop.

I'm On Permanent Mexiroam

Here it is, the Chiapas post that at least two of you have been clamoring for. The rest of you don't have to read it if you don't want to.

I still haven't figured out a way to talk (succinctly or not) about a trip that lasted almost three weeks and encompassed two-thirds of the great country of Mexico, so my apologies if this is a little disjointed or confusing. This is going to be a massive post because of the pictures.

Here are some basics for the trip:

Who- Myself, Meghan (my housemate, co-intern, and partner all things Mexico), Tommy (my boss at the Just Trade Center, a weird sort of blend between hippie, Catholic, corporate manager, and romantic), Barbara (Tommy's girlfriend and an unbelievable coffee saleswoman), Arthur (Tommy's twentysomething son and a great guy), Daniel (co-founder of Just Coffee and one of the nicest guys I've ever met), Vicki (Daniel's wife and the woman in charge of packaging for Just Coffee), Danielito (Daniel and Vicki's son, easily one of the coolest two year-olds I have ever met), Luis (A Guatemalan immigrant who lost both of his legs in a train accident trying to get to the U.S. border), and Surullo (Vicki's dog and constant companion).

What- A three(ish) week trip down the west coast of Mexico to visit the town of Salvador Urbina in the state of Chiapas (the location of the Just Coffee cooperative), and then back up through the center of Mexico with a stop in Veracruz to visit one of the two new cooperatives. We borrowed a 1980's Ford 15 passanger van with 225,00 miles on it from our friends at the Catholic Church and loaded another 4,000 miles onto it between the time we left the border and the time we got back.

When- We left on December 27th I think, and got back last week at some point.

Where- I suppose I sort of covered that point already. Here's a map to help out.
The red lines follow the rough route of our trip.



Why- Part of my motivation for going was just to visit so much of Mexico that I had never seen before. Part of it was just to take a break and relax. Most of it, however, was my desire to meet the Just Coffee growers and see the states where migrants were coming from. I also didn't really want to come home for Christmas because this year is a bit of a test run for how I would like living abroad for an extended period of time.

Now for the pictures (click to enlarge):


The beach just north of Mazatlan where we stopped for a swim after our first night of driving. Gorgeous.


A blurry, but adequate, picture of the ditch that I accidentally backed the van into, and the rescuers that helped us get it out. To be fair, it was pitch black and we were in a residential neighborhood. Ditches weren't really on the radar. And no, I didn't take the picture. I'm behind the van pushing just like everybody else. I haven't really had great luck with vans in Mexico.


Sadly I did not break the pinata. I will say that pinatas, fireworks, and hugs for ALL of the fifty people at the party is a great tradition for celebrating the new year. Feliz ano nuevo indeed.


My home away from home. This is Daniel's mom's house (Mama Yoly). There were already six people living in the house (from three different generations) when the eight of us moved in. I'm quite happy to say that Mama Yoly and company spoiled us rotten. Great food. Great conversation. Great people. Tons of fun. The stuff on the cement outside is coffee being dried in the sun.


The women of Mama Yoly's house. And it was DEFINITELY a house of women (only one man lived there permanently, and he was moving out). Mama Yoly is in the back right of the picture, her daughter-in-law Rosy is next to her, her daughter Elda next to that, Elda's daughter Tahlia on the back left, Barbara and Meghan are clearly the gringas, and Daniella is between them. I actually don't know who that baby is, there were many of them around. All of these women except for Daniella were living in the house.


Tahlia (back left, 19) and Daniella (front, 22) were my homegirls in Salvador Urbina. Tahlia's mom Elda owned this little store in the town square, and it was awesome to just hang out with them, drink delicious Fanta, and talk about life.


Danielito is my boy all the time. Seriously, can YOU think of a toddler you would want to spend 120 hours in a van with?


Elda. What can I say about Elda? Well, for one thing, this is a picture of her punching me. I guess that tells you something about our relationship. Tommy and Arturo call her "La Mala," which literally means "The Bad One." We skirmished. We teased. We laughed. She misses me, I know it.


Rosy and her boys (her own description of this picture) That tall drink of water on the left is Arthur. The other one, you may or may not be able to tell, is me.


This is the view of Salvador Urbina from the front of Mama Yoly's patio. The pueblo is on two sides of a valley and centers around the road that runs up the mountain through the center of town. The Cifuentes family is pretty legendary in Salvador Urbina. For one thing, Daniel's grandfather helped fight for the land that the town now sits on. For another, there are at least 150 people in the family, and most of them live in Salvador Urbina. Daniel has 12 brothers and sisters, and Mama Yoly has more than 50 grandchildren. Finally, Daniel and his brothers Eri and Isaac were pretty much the driving force behind Just Coffee.


This is the "laundry machine" at Mama Yoly's house. It is also the large basin of water that you draw from in order to bathe yourself or flush the toilet. Compared to showers I almost prefer baths out of buckets now, but that's just me. I'd say the highlight of doing anything down there was the view, but the fish that lived in the water tank was pretty cool too.


The market in Tapachula. Fireworks? Check. Hammocks? Check. Used clothing? Check. Fresh pineapple? Check. I love street markets.


Sunrise on our way up the volcano Tacana. We left at 8 p.m. the night before, hiked until about 1 or 2, and crashed until dawn. It was freezing cold and I stayed up most of the night keeping a fire going in a little shack that they had built for people climbing the volcano. The brutal thing about Tacana was that there were hardly any switchbacks at all, just a straight path up the mountain.


Tacana's summit. The marker that I am standing by is the international border between Guatemala and Mexico that divides the mountain in half. The volcano behind me is in Guatemala. Needless to say, customs doesn't have a checkpoint up there.


Ruins from the city of Tahin in Veracruz. One of the most beautiful places I have ever been.


The gringo crew enjoying coffee, pan dulce, and good company in Veracruz. Throughout our trip the people of Mexico were undecided whether Tommy looked more like Santa Clause or more like Fidel Castro. Votes?


This is the armadillo that we started eating almost immediately after the last picture was taken. Pretty tasty actually. Especially with hand made corn tortillas, possibly one of the best tasting things on earth.


The "Socios" (members of the coffee cooperative) in Veracruz. Really great folks.


The coffee "fields" in Veracruz. Organic. Shade grown. Just. It's a beautiful thing. Kind of reminded me of my grandfather's avocado grove from when I was a kid.


Cleaning the coffee by hand so that it would be pure enough to decaffeinate. We really need to figure out a better way to do this. It's all about the quality though. Who loves you? That's right, Just Coffee loves you.


A coffee farmer on his way to sell the harvest. He still had another 45 minutes to go and those bags weigh 100 lbs. Think about that the next time you're at Starbucks.


One of the ten or so Cathedrals that we visited in the colonial city of San Luis Potosi. Thanks for the European training Mom and Dad. I can visit Cathedrals like a champ. On a side note, I think that when Protestants get bored they found new denominations, and when Catholics get bored they build more churches. It's a working theory.

That's it for me I think. I might post more thoughts later. I might post more pictures. We'll see.

I will say that it was easily one of the best trips I've ever taken, and that I'm also incredibly glad to be back "home" on the border, particularly as I've taken up puppy ranching. But that's for another post.

Free Coffee= Sweet Perk of the Job

Still working on a largish post about Chiapas (I got the pictures onto the computer...just not this computer, but we're getting there).

I'm also wanting to get back into the business of posting about my job and about the border more, so I'm going to sort of combine both of those goals with this post.

This is an e-mail that I just sent out to friends and family in SoCal asking for some help with Just Coffee and explaining a little bit about what makes this project so special. I suspect that most of you would be interested in knowing this stuff as well, and I hope to get some questions out of it, and then maybe write more in some follow-up posts. We'll see. (Sorry Molly, you already read this so it won't be able to keep you occupied at work. Guess you'll have to do your actual job instead).

Hello West Coast friends and family!

For some of you this is going to come as a follow-up e-mail, so I apologize if any of this is repeat. For everyone else, well, this is a call for some help. Read on, all (well, lots) will be explained.

Let's start with a little bit of background:
Part of my job down here in Agua Prieta has been working with a coffee company called Just Coffee. Just Coffee was started by Frontera de Cristo, the Presbyterian border ministry that I work for, a little more than four years ago.

Just Coffee was started primarily as a response to immigration. My church in Agua Prieta, El Lirio de Los Valles Presbyterian Church, is a largely transient congregation, made up mostly of immigrants from southern Mexico. The church routinely gains and loses members as some families arrive at the border from the south, and others cross the border into the U.S. looking for work. The vision for Just Coffee came from a conversation between Mark, a staffer at Frontera, and Daniel, a member of the church. Mark was trying to understand why so many migrants came from the state of Chiapas, and Daniel was trying to explain the drop in coffee prices that growers had experienced there. The rest, as they say, is history.

Four years later, the Just Coffee Model (or Fair Trade Plus as it is also called) continues to address immigration and pursue economic justice in three fundamental ways:

1. Just Coffee allows coffee farmers to receive a just price for their crop. In Spanish, Just Coffee (Cafe Justo) literally means Justice Coffee. The almost forty members of the growing cooperative receive more than $1.30 per pound for their coffee (more than three times the amount they were receiving when Just Coffee started). They also receive health and retirement benefits for themselves and their families.

2. Just Coffee is owned by the growers. Although Frontera helped to found Just Coffee and has worked with it closely ever since, Just Coffee is 100% owned by the growers. This is in stark contrast to regular coffee, but also to most Fair Trade coffees as well. We call Just Coffee "Fair Trade Plus" because the traditional Fair Trade model does not include health care or retirement benefits, pays the farmers as much as $.40 per pound less, and exports a great deal of the profits out into the U.S. Not only are the farmers receiving a just price for their coffee, they are gaining business skills.

3. Just Coffee helps the local economy in Chiapas and on the border. The increased price that farmers have received from Just Coffee has gone out into the community around them. On the border, Just Coffee has created seven jobs for Mexican workers.

That's great...but how's the coffee?

1. Just Coffee is 100% shade grown organic coffee.
2. Just Coffee is shipped to you less than a week after it has been roasted.
3. 1 pound of Just Coffee costs $8.00 ($6.75) wholesale, about the price of 1 lb. of non-fair trade non-organic coffee at Safeway. 1 lb. of fair trade and organic Starbucks coffee runs about $12-16.
4. Just Coffee tastes amazing. Yeah, I love it.
5. It comes in all kinds- Arabica, Robusta, ground, bean, dark, light, regular, decaf. You name it. We also do custom roasts. Special, huh?

So...what does this have to do with all of you?
Just Coffee is also growing.

In 2007 the plan is to open two new coffee cooperatives in southern Mexico, and begin preparations for a cooperative in Haiti. The first new cooperative that we are launching is called El Aguila.

El Aguila is a small Mexican town in the state of Chiapas (near the border with Guatemala) made up of small scale coffee farmers. It is also just up the road from the Just Coffee cooperative in Salvador Urbina.

Just Coffee has been marketed and sold locally, with about 80% of sales happening right here in southern Arizona. That model is going to be replicated with El Aguila, but with a target on the Southern California area. That's where you all come in.

The plan for El Aguila is to put a roasting facility in Tijuana, and to focus marketing on San Diego, Los Angeles, and the Central Valley. For those of you in Washington and Oregon, don't worry, we would really like you to be involved too.

At this point, Just Coffee is also sold primarily through churches. Although we have a large number of individual customers, and even stores and coffee shops, a majority of our sales come through churches.

The way it works is that a church orders the coffee from us at the wholsale price of $6.75, and then sells it at their church for between $8-10 (their choice really). The difference in price is theirs to do with as they choose. Obviously this is not the only way to sell the coffee, but like I said, it's where most sales come from.

Initially I said this e-mail was about asking for some help, and I'm finally getting around to that part.

I would really like all of your help.

How?

1. If you like coffee, buy the coffee. It's good. I'll send it to you for free to try it out. Ask me.
2. Talk to your churches/people at your churches/friends at other churches about using the coffee at their fellowship hours and selling it at the church.
3. Send me names and contact info. for other people in your area who would be interested in participating and hearing more about it.

Mostly, I would just like to work with those of you who can make the time (I know all of you are busy) and have the interest in helping me (and a bunch of coffee farmers) out with this. The goal is to have the roasting facility in place by June, but orders are ready to be processed starting pretty much right now.

One of the really exciting things about this model for me is that it is about forming relationships and supporting people that I know. You have the oppurtunity to visit the roasting facility in Tijuana, to meet the staff, to learn about the people growing the coffee, and meet them as well.

So, if you're interested, here's what we can do:

1. Check out the website: www.justcoffee.org
2. Think about what other people would be interested and let me know (e-mail is best)
3. Think about the best way to get your own church involved. (Who would/has the authority make the decision to use Just Coffee? To sell it? What information would you need to present to them? Who would be a good person to handle ordering the coffee and making sure payments get sent?)
4. Ask me questions and talk to me. What do you want to know? What do you need? Let me know what you are thinking. Let me know if you don't have the time. I'd probably like to talk to you anyway. E-mail me. Call me (720-560-0460) Set up a time for us to talk further about ways that we can help one another. Anything. I'm all ears.
5. Pray. (Or as Stephen Colbert calls it, p-mail).

What we're not asking for: Donations (although those are nice). We are looking at building a customer base. Great coffee at a great price for a great cause. That simple.

That's about all from my end. As an aside, I'd love to hear from all of you, whether about coffee or not. If you've made it this far, just shoot me a quick e-mail back letting me know what you're thinking and where we can go from here. If we're already talking, expect to hear from me soon. I just got back from Chiapas and have a day or so of catching up to do.

Thanks so much for all your time and support.
Aaron

Back in the Saddle: The Best of 2006

Well, I'm back from Chiapas. I didn't die, the van didn't break down (although I backed it into a ditch), and we didn't pay off any Mexican police or military. A very succesful trip. Been back about a week, but I spent most of that time running around with my friends Erik and Kyle and eating burritos. Time well spent for sure. Now I'm back in the saddle with my post for the best music of 2006. I know you all want to hear about Chiapas, but that's such an overwhelming blog task that I thought I'd start with something a little easier. Pictures soon though, I promise.

Best New Music of 2006:
To hear any of these, just google, myspace, or purevolume them. I'm too lazy for links.

10. mewithoutYou- Brother, Sister

mewithoutYou really has it all. They're musically innovative, pushing at the boundaries of indie rock, spoken word, and post-hardcore to create something that I've never once heard before. They're socially concious, dumpster diving for food and converting their tour bus to run on grease. Their live show is insane. I've never seen a band put that much energy into what they do. Never. After all of that, I will say that this album was a little bit disappointing. Great songs? Check. Aaron Weiss' clever lyrics? Check. That extra spark that made Catch for Us the Foxes? It's just not quite there. Maybe it just hasn't hit me yet.

key lyrics: "Open wide my door, my lord, my lord, open wide my door (to whatever makes me love you more)"

key tracks: C-Minor

9. Underoath- Define the Great Line

I was pretty over screaming. Really over it, actually. I was done with hardcore in general as a matter of fact. Oh sure, I still throw on the occasional Beloved and Norma Jean album, but that's about it. Well, that was about it. This album kills. Put it on and your pulse quickens, you want to dance- well, dance or get in a fight. They could have signed to a major, made it poppy, and played on TRL, but instead they screamed more, sang less, and turned the guitars up to 11.

key tracks: A Moment Suspended in Time, There Could Be Nothing After This

8. Band of Horses- Everything All the Time

After Pitchfork compared them to My Morning Jacket and the shins you had to expect this album to go big. Well, it did. And it doesn't disappoint either. This album is almost instantly warm and familiar, like a flannel shirt bought at a thrift store and left out on your back seat in the sun. No key lyrics or key tracks here for me. Put it on and before you know it the album is done, leaving behind an atmosphere of comfortable tranquility. Plus, I'm pretty sure that the album title is a reference to Radiohead's Kid A, and everyone loves that.

7. Brand New- the devil and god are raging inside me

Darker. Harder. Louder. Brand New is definitely back. There are some annoyances here: "I love you so much that it hurts my head," for a start, but overall, this is the album they were meant to make. It's more mature and more confident, and ironically it's all about insecurity and the demons in your head. I just wish they had kept more of the demos around.

key lyrics: "Jesus Christ I'm alone again, so what did you do those three days you were dead? 'cause this problem's gonna last more than the weekend."

key tracks: jesus, limousine, sowing season

6. Annie Peters- Suitcases EP

Well I didn't expect this. 2006 was DEFINITELY the year of female vocalists for me. I fell in love. I swooned. And Annie Peters might be my favorite of them all. And she's just so...down to earth. An about the artist taken from her myspace page (www.myspace.com/anniepeters) "I love making music so stinkin much." And I love you making music so stinkin much. She's just a girl with a guitar, but the lyrics really stick. Thanks to Trent for meeting her at a wedding and dragging my ass out to see her show. Listen to her stuff, and if you like it I will send you a copy of the ep. For real.

key lyrics: "Sometimes I feel like the four walls of my life are closing in on me."

key tracks: I bought a burned cd from her and it didn't come with names. Sad.

5. TV On the Radio- Return to Cookie Mountain

"Are those beats? Like, hip-hop beats? His voice sounds like James Brown trying to cover Isaac Brock. Is that David Bowie on this track!?" Yep, that's TV On the Radio. How could you expect any less than excellence from a band that named an ep Ok Calculator. Brilliant. These boys from Brooklyn released (from what I've heard) the best album of 2006. Brash, hopeful, musical, innovative, this album is what indie rock would sound like if it wasn't so safe, and what soul might sound like if it hadn't become r&boring. It's not my favorite of the year, but given time I wouldn't be surprised if it finds it's way to number one.

key lyrics: "Stand, stare fast, erect, and see that love is the province of the brave."

key tracks: I Was A Lover, Province

4. The Format- Dog Problems

I really used to think of The Format as a one song band. The First Single was all I really cared about. I was very, very wrong. Interventions and Lullabies was great, but Dog Problems takes their music to an entirely new level. The lyrics are smart and self-deprecating, the music is theatrical and thick. And the whole thing is just, well, fun. The live show is pretty awesome too.

key lyrics: "...and blame postmodern things I can't relate, like summer camp and coastal states. Like alcohol and coffee beans. Dance floors and magazines. I think its safe to say I've only got myself to blame, but boys in swooping haircuts are bringing me down, taking pictures of themselves."

key tracks: dog problems, oceans

3. Thursday- A City By the Light Divided

Bombs falling out of the sky. Train wrecks. Car crashes. Streetlights and deserted cities. These are the things that we have come to know and love from Geoff and company. And they're all here. After almost breaking up, Thursday dug deep, made their keyboardist a permanent member of the band, and rewrote "We Shall Overcome" as a post-hardcore song. Yeah, I love this band. It's probably more personal than anything they've ever written before, and even though I don't love the production, it grows on me with every listen.

key lyrics: "another life, swinging in the breeze, from southern trees, the strangest fruit" It's Geoff, it's all great.

key tracks: Sugar In the Sacrament, At This Velocity, We Will Overcome

2. The Hold Steady- Boys and Girls in America

I don't do a lot of hard bar drinking. Actually, come to think of it I don't do any hard bar drinking. I also don't use drugs. I've never really used drugs. I'm not a teenager, I don't live in Minnesota, and I'm not all that crazy about beer bands. So why does an album that incorporates all those things rock so hard, and why can't I stop listening to it? It might be those guitars. They just won't quit. Every time I have listened to this album (and we're talking about a couple dozen times by now)I just can't believe the hooks and the solos. Is it 80's? Retro? Who cares. It's rock & roll like only an American band could make.

key lyrics: "It started ice cream social nice and ended up all white and ecumenical." also "and then last night she said words alone never could save us. and then last night she cried and she told us about jesus."

key tracks: stuck between stations, first night, chips ahoy!

1. Anathallo- Floating World

Pitchfork hated this album. I think they gave it a 2.7 and called it pretentious. They said it was ripping off Sufjan. I can't even begin to tell you all the things that are wrong with that. Shows what they know. Half the lyrics are in Japanese. They don't have a record label. They use velcro, balloons, and a marching band drum as instruments. All that, and at its heart I'm pretty sure it's pop music. Give it a listen, get lost, and you'll always find yourself wanting to come back again.

key lyrics: "I'm off in a distant place, where I can be the signifier,
not that which is signified."

key tracks: dokkoise house, hanasakajijii (four: a great wind, more ash)

1. Karl F. Kling- The Best Of...

See what I did there? Yeah, two number ones. That's right, it's a tie. My list, my rules. Which is a good thing, because this doesn't really qualify as an album. In the first place, it's two different bands and then Karl solo. In the second place, not all of the songs are even from 2006. But it's just way too good to be denied. His voice is captivating, his lyrics are moving, and the songs are composed so tightly you'd think he'd been doing this for years. Actually, he has. From "The Best of Luck, Love, and Peace" to "Outer Space" to "Sanctity," the songs evolve with the bands, the music changes and so does the mood. But the quality never drops. Not once. And I know the bloke. I've even spooned with him.

key lyrics: "Eat out of hand, live like a bird, cut off your wings, squiggle and squirm" and "I'll tell you now, the journey will be long."

key tracks: The Best of Luck, Love, and Peace, and Sanctity

Honorable mentions: Derek Webb- Mockingbird (he's giving away the album on the internet for free fer goshsakes), Saves the Day (this album scares me...in a good way), and Brand New- Demos (the devil and god... would be even stronger with a few more of these tracks).

Still need to hear: Joanna Newsom, Cat Power

Best Old Stuff I Got Into This Year: This has been a big year for me. Big. The Beatles, Radiohead, and Sixpence None the Richer are all bands that I really "got" for the first time this year. Yeah, I know. Big. I didn't buy The Arcade Fire until this year either. Ella Fitzgerald as well. I'm sure there's other stuff I'm leaving out.

Oh yeah. Vheissu. Thrice is one of my top ten bands of all time, but I didn't get their new album until this year. It's stunning. I just can't stop.

Looking Forward Towards 2007 The Shins, Wolf Parade, Thrice, Jimmy Eat World, Say Anything, Iron & Wine

I'm counting this as a Christmas miracle.

IT'S SNOWING. Like, real flakes and stuff. I'm so excited.

File Under: Bad Solutions to Immigration "Problem"

Ms. Lauren Brown has a new post up (http://laurenbrown.typepad.com/weblog/2006/12/esta_gran_nacin.html) about the recent immigration raids on meat plants in several states, including one in Greeley, CO. As an extra incentive for all you Longmont folks, she even links to the Daily Times-Call!

Go read it, it's great stuff.

Meet Your Neighbors: Biloxi, Mississippi Edition

Attn: Becca Weaver

My new friend Salvador should be arriving in your neck of the woods before 2007. His journey was delayed yesterday after he almost broke his ankle jumping over the fence between the U.S. and Mexico, which now reaches over twenty feet in some places. Salvador has lived in Biloxi for the past 5 years and returned to Mexico recently to visit a sick relative. Now that he's injured he will have to stay in Agua Prieta until he recovers enough to make the much more dangerous crossing through the desert. He told me that he was excited to get back to the United States because he really liked the work he had been doing- rebuilding after "la Katrina."

As much as I love my bicycle, I wish I had a biodiesel truck.

Here´s a really cool little interview between Aaron Weiss of mewithoutYou and Jeremy Enigk, formerly of Sunny Day Real Estate. They talk a lot about faith, music, and yes...biodiesel. Enjoy.

http://www.synthesis.net/music/story.php?type=story&id=4961

Am I the only one who thinks that "Crossfire" was just a modified version of Hungry Hungry Hippos?

Just because I love these videos and I love all of you:

John Stewart on Crossfire.

p.s.- Tucker, he's right about the tie. It was never cute.

The Quarter Life: Friends and Community

My good friend Bryce Perica and I are starting up a project that we are calling "The Quarter life." The Quarter Life is a new series about, well...life, I guess. More specifically, it's about the experience of life that we have had in our 20's. Bryce and I chose some topics that we both wanted to cover, and over the next few months we are going to be posting pieces on things like family, work, finances, etc. The first installment of The Quarter Life begins today with a post on friendship and community. As always, Bryce's stuff is up at http://sixhoursonsunday.blogspot.com.


In Mexico it's not uncommon for children to never leave home. The first time that someone told me this I couldn't believe it. "Never!?," I thought to myself. But it turns out that, by and large, it is true. The ideal family situation in Mexico is one where the children grow up, go to college, come back home, get a job, get married, and finally move out of their parents house. And by move out, I mean move into the house that they built across the street from their parents.

This contrasts sharply with the way that I was brought up to think about my own family, and especially how I was raised think about friends and community. As a (white) American I have always had this sense that, while being really important, friends, and even sometimes family, were not necessarily permanent fixtures in life. I don't think this played out any more clearly than in my decision to head off to Pomona College in sunny Los Angeles, CA. For a starters, I didn't know anyone at Pomona College. No professors, no students, no staff. It never occurred to me that it was strange to leave all of my family and friends behind and set off for a place full of people that I had never met.

Of course I now have plenty of friends from my Pomona days, and another big group from an assortment of related adventures, but I have yet to regain the community that I had back in Longmont growing up. Intuitively, that makes a lot of sense. I have spent the last five years moving around from place to place, never spending more than several months investing in any one thing, or one cohesive group of people. Not surprisingly, I have missed the community that I used to have, and for all sorts of reasons. In many ways I think that my life has been less fun and more difficult because so many of those people were not around.

And I think that this is pretty common. My sense is that twentysomethings experience a great deal of loneliness and isolation as they strive to form new communities and friendship groups. I have talked to countless recent graduates, and even friends who graduated years ago, about how much more difficult it has been to form friendships and community in the "working world" than it was back in college. So many of us, myself included, spend the majority of our time in strange new places working demanding jobs or trying to secure another degree (that will hopefully land us more demanding jobs). All this while trying keep up with the friends and communities that we left behind.

The issue of keeping up with friends from high school and college is so challenging that many people (myself included) begin to intentionally prioritize these friendships. I prioritize my friendships using the context of weddings. Why weddings? Well, for starters, weddings are expensive. I'm not even talking about having a wedding, I'm talking about going to weddings. Flights. Food. Gifts. Clothing. It all adds up. It's even more expensive if you are fortunate enough (no sarcasm) to be included in the wedding party. It is simply impossible for any twentysomething without a trust fund to attend all of the weddings to which they are invited. As a result, my friendships have become classified by the existence of theoretical weddings, theirs or mine. Here's my hierarchy of friendships as evaluated through weddings:

1. Friends who will be in my wedding
2. Friends whose wedding I will be in
3. Friends whose wedding I will attend
4. Friends who will attend my wedding
5. Friends who will not attend my wedding
6. Friends whose wedding I will not attend.

I'm not a big fan of using formulas or rankings on people, but that's a little disingenuous to say right now since I do use them in this context. Things like visits, gifts, e-mails, phone calls, and a whole other set of "friendly" gestures are doled out based on where people fall on the wedding scale. It's not meant to be mean spirited, just to make sure that the people who are most important in my life both feel and stay just that, important. It's also far from perfect. The truth is that I tend to neglect important people no matter what (currently I am badly neglecting many dear friends who still go to Pomona), but it's a way to be more accountable. It's also been a helpful way for me to realize when new friends become really important to me. If I try to think about my wedding without them and I just can't see it, that's probably a good sign that I should work extra hard to stay in touch.

All of these thoughts, beliefs, and assorted musings leaves me feeling convicted about two things. The first is that I simply don't value my friends enough. I think this is most evident in the ways that I make decisions about my life. In college, what I did over summer vacation or any other break was much more influenced by what seemed inexpensive or fun than by its particular proximity to my friends. That wasn't always the case, but it was a lot. More important, however, is that I have yet to make a serious sacrifice in order to be closer to my friends. That is to say, I have yet to give up a good job, or something I hold to be of similar value, to seek a deeper and more meaningful relationship with my friends. If I am serious about becoming a more faithful, more compassionate, and more balanced person, I should be more serious about spending a lot of time with my friends. Friends, at their best, are the catalyst for change and growth in your life. Obviously they should be fun to be around, interesting to talk to, etc., but mostly they should be someone who can hold you accountable, and who will let you do the same for them. Without that I just don't think it's friendship.

Community, especially Christian community, is a whole 'nother animal. It is, as we see it best modeled in Acts, a physical manifestation of the Kingdom of God. Unlike friends, who we have some say in, community, no matter where we are, is given to us without the choice to opt out. Community, even more than friends, pushes us outside of our comfort zones and into a place where we might be required to confront Jesus. It is often the people we don't like, and especially don't like to love, the people who make us uncomfortable, the people who make us feel awkward, and even the people who make us feel awful. That's community. And community, as far as I am concerned, is best faced in the company of friends. And this is where I feel convicted once again. As much as I have tried to contribute to a number of different communities- Pomona, urban Los Angeles, Uganda, Douglas/Agua Prieta, etc., I have never been able to contribute as fully as I would like to. This is, I think, partially a function of the relatively short amount of time that I have committed to the people in those places, but is also due largely to the fact that I experienced most of those places, and the people in them experienced me, almost totally in the absence of my closest friends.

So, like many twentysomethings, I face the decision of accepting my relationships with my friends and my community as they have always been, or of being proactive in imagining how I want them to be in the future. I am trying to take strides to choose the latter. For example, I recently made a commitment to a friend to live with him after I leave Agua Prieta. I don't know if this will be immediately after, as there are considerations with my family as well, but it is a commitment I intend to keep regardless of what other opportunities come up. I wish the details were more specific, but it's a start. In addition to the benefit I will receive by enjoying his company, decisions like this, I believe, will allow me to be a more meaningful participant in new communities in the future. In the presence of my closest friends I will be able to love and serve in a greater capacity than I am currently able to. That, I think, is a major lesson of Jesus and his disciples. And for me, the prospect of loving more and serving more is a terribly exciting thing.

Note: Special thanks to Maite, Lexie, Chris, Mike, Laura, Grace, Thandiwe, Brian, Bryce, Erik, Chris, Wes, Kyle, Collin, Brianne, Travis, Ben, and Maile for having a profound impact on my thoughts about friendship and community. I'm sure that I'm leaving out many others. Sorry 'bout that.

That's just adorable.

Please join me in welcoming Jane Elizabeth Hamilton into the world! The Hamilton family has been very near and dear to my heart since I worked for Rachel in Los Angeles at the Center for Student Missions. I'm so happy for them.

Meet Your Neighbors Glendale Edition

Welcome to another great edition of meet your neighbors. This is a special edition meant for all of my Los Angeles area friends out there, and, due to the location, Ms. Beth Winton in particular.

Tonight I would like to introduce you to my new friend Samuel. Samuel is a 17 year old amigo hailing from Mexico City (or the D.F. as it is referred to here). I met him this afternoon along with three fellow travelers after they came into the Migrant Resource Center looking for some much needed food and rest. The four of them had crossed through the desert in New Mexico and had been walking for two days and nights when they were arrested by the Border Patrol. They told me that they plan to cross again tomorrow.

Samuel has been living in LA since May, but had to go home this month to take care of some things with his family. He´s anxious to get back to LA because he's a student at Belmont High School. He doesn´t like LA as much as Mexico City, but he likes learning English and playing on the soccer team. Keep your eyes out city of the angels, he's a determined and optimistic kid and I'm sure he'll arrive their very soon.

Qwack Qwack

Dear Cathy,

I did not fall off the edge of the earth. Well, not physically at any rate. I have pretty much neglected all of my Pomona friends however. Sorry 'bout that. I'm still working on how to make that one better. It is incredibly cold here as well and I have not finished installing my heaters. Seven blankets just doesn't compensate for no central heating and all tile flooring. Hugs and kisses.

Aaron

I went to college with a girl who did a really good impression of Mothra vs. Godzilla

Boundless Magazine is a webzine targetting college students and twentysomethings that was started by James Dobson's Focus on the Family. I read it regularly, and disagree with it more often than not, but I always find it a really enlightening glimpse into more conservative Evangelical Christianity in America. A really good way to keep my finger on the pulse, if you will.
There's a new post up over there written by Boundless regular Matt Kaufman called "Gays vs. The Garden Guy" (http://www.boundless.org/2005/articles/a0001402.cfm) I'm feeling too tired to summarize both the article and the event which sparked it, so please head over there and at least skim the post if you are going to read on.

From the start I was worried about what I would find in the article, largely because I took offense to the way that Kaufman used "Gays" in the title as a catch-all for everyone who identifies as homosexual. Really, all gays are against The Garden Guy? All? Also, did you know that Christians were in a war "vs." Gays. I didn't. Turns out we are. Actually, I thought Christians were supposed to be peacemakers, ones who would be called children of God, but apparently that's off base as well.

There are really two major problems with the way that Kaufman addresses this situation. The first is that he labels the actions of the Farbers and their company an appropriate Christian response. For a direct contradiction to this I would have him check out Matthew 9 and Jesus' relationship to a tax collector. Apparently refusing to interact or do business with people is the 21st Century version of loving your neighbors. Who knew.

The second major problem with Kaufman's assessment is that he gets all bent out of shape about the way in which "gay activists" are trying to steal freedom away from the Farbers. Now, freedon isn't a bad thing. Look at Galatians 5 (yeah Erik H.) to see Paul's very enthusiastic comments on freedom. No freedom isn't bad, but freedom isn't the be all end all for Christians either. Jesus is. So when Kaufman rails on about how the Farbers would be less free if they were forced to work for gay men, he misses the point entirely. The Farbers always had the freedom to love those two men, and they willingly gave it up. The Farbers always had the oppurtunity to love like Jesus, and they took a pass. All Christians do that far more often than we would like, but celebrating it is another matter.

Both Kaufman and the Farbers have made a tragic mistake. In an attempt to stand up for what they believe in and defend their right to do so, they have decided that love is in fact not the most important thing, but being right is. I have fallen victim to this same thinking more often than I care to admit, so let me be the first to say to both Matt and the Farbers, welcome to the club. Thankfully for them, and for me as well, forgiveness, love, and grace, are still included free of charge.

Did I Listen to Pop Music Because I Was Unhappy, Or Was I Unhappy Because I Listened to Pop Music?

I’ve been having a tough time lately. There’s really no better way to say it than that. I’ve been discouraged, depressed at points, and really just at a loss about a whole lot of things. And, appropriately enough, I’m not very happy about it. I’ve had a bunch of “blah” days, and a few more that were much worse. I spent some time thinking about whether or not I wanted to write something up about this and post it here. Obviously I have decided to do so, largely because I think it would be dishonest not to. I’ve been trying to present a sort of broad picture of my life and work here, using mostly anecdotes and personal interactions to paint, what is hopefully, a complex and diverse picture encompassing this place and these people. Without posts like these I fear that this story would be incomplete.

I’m not really going to go into a lot of specifics about what it is that is making me feel this way right now. Instead I want to talk about the impact that these events have had on my time here. I was catching up with a friend the other day when he asked me if I was ever going to come home. It was a hard question. The truth was, I desperately wanted to go home. I desperately wanted to be in a place that was my own and with people that loved me. But my response was something like, “No, I’m not coming home for at least six more months.” The thing is, if I went home, I’m not sure I’d be able to come back.

It’s hard here. All of the people that I love, and all of the work that I believe in, and often love to do, doesn’t take away the fact that it’s hard. It’s hard for both small reasons and big, but the cumulative effect is that on really bad days, it’s almost impossible to be here. Maybe it would feel impossible to be anywhere. I can’t say for sure. But it has felt impossible here.

I think it’s especially difficult to talk about having a hard time here because in a lot of ways it feels like defeat. For some reason I want to be able to, well, to conquer this place. That’s an ugly, militaristic word, but it seems appropriate here. I want to be able to face the injustice, the cultural shocks, the lack of heat, the absence of my friends, the absence of many things that I like to do for fun, the insane working hours, the constant instability, and the strong sense of isolation out here in the desert. I want to be able to face these things and thrive. Which, after listing some of those challenges, seems like a ridiculous desire, but it’s the desire that I’ve had.

I think this desire comes in part from a sense that I am doing what God called me to do. I don’t think I’ve received a lot of calls in my young life. I’m usually more inclined to think that God gives us a lot of freedom in our lives and asks us to be faithful in making decisions. That’s not why I ended up here in Agua Prieta though. I came here through a very specific call, and because of this I had some sense that I should be “successful” at it, that it would be less difficult somehow. That’s not really a biblical reading of a call, but it’s one that I have been pursuing. And it’s clearly not working out so well.

I’m pretty sure that it’s going to keep being hard for a little while to come, and in some ways, probably as long as I stay here. There are also some things I’m wrestling with that will possibly be very difficult long after I leave. So what do I do in the face of these difficult times and discouraging thoughts? That’s a challenge to all of us that’s not unique to me or to this place. The first thing that I’ve had to change because of this period has been my own reluctance to be honest about things. My desire for this year to be a challenging but fun experience left me denying some very obvious ways that I was hurting until they all sort of came crashing down at once. That hasn’t been helpful. I’ve also got to be more pro-active in making allowances for how hard things really are. I’ve been afraid that dwelling on the difficulties would make me depressed, but the truth is that not trying to mitigate them, or to enjoy myself more, has left me in a place where I’m not really sure what I would do for fun even if I got the chance. That’s not a good scene.

Ultimately, I don’t think that enjoying this year is too much to ask, especially since this work is related to things I might do for many years to come. It’s not comforting to think that misery is in your future long-term. However, I also don’t think that Jesus was joking about that whole picking up my cross thing. Far from it. I often suspect that, for believers in Jesus, if life is very difficult then we must be doing something right. Clearly this is not always true, but I believe it is true more often than we would like to admit.

The most important thing, as always, is that God is worthy of praise. If God is worthy when my life is great, then God has got to be worthy now, or God is not worth anything at all. So, in this, as in all things, God be praised.

By the by, the title for this post comes from High Fidelity. Nobody does neurotic unhappiness like John Cusack. Not Woody Allen, not even Moz. Johnny Boy holds it down.

World Aids Day

Just a little reminder that today is World Aids Day. I can't help but think about the people I met in Uganda living with Aids, or widowed/orphaned by the disease, or about Project Angel Food, a Los Angeles non-profit that cooks and delivers nutritious meals to people living with HIV/Aids.

What is especially tragic on this World Aids Day is that HIV/Aids, contrary to many predictions just a few years ago, is still spreading unabated. Estimates today are that 40 million people around the world are living with the disease. Well, 40 million people around the world have HIV/Aids. The ones who can afford the treatments or who are fortunate enough to receive them free are living with it, the rest are dying from it. And this number neglects the millions of orphaned children like those I met in Uganda and Rwanda who. It also fails to capture the incredible social burden that the loss of generations of people has on everyone living in a society.

Sadly, even though a great deal of progress has been made, HIV/Aids is still largely linked to gender in most parts of the world. Although I suspect that many people, and probably many Americans, still associate it with homosexuality, the reality is that the burden of HIV/Aids is largely carried by women and young girls. An article in the Times today (http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/01/world/africa/01madagascar.html?_r=1&th&emc=th&oref=slogin) highlights the persistance of child sexual abuse in Sub-Saharan Africa, and its role in spreading the disease. This same risk is shared by married women, sex-workers (both enslaved and not), and women living in conflict zones, where rape is often used as a weapon of war, as it was in the Rwandan genocide, and is currently being used against women and girls in Northern Uganda and Southern Sudan.

I'm trying to decide what my pro-active choice is going to be today to combat this disease. I'm considering a donation to The ONE Campaign or to World Vision, although I have not decided ultimately where it will go. Please consider giving money today, and every day if possible. The task ahead of us is great, but the consequences far greater if we do nothing at all.