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In Swahili, Kenya’s lingua franca, one of the standard greetings is the question “Hujambo?” This is a contraction of the phrase, “Huna jambo?”, meaning literally, “You don’t have any problems, do you?” The standard reply is “Sijambo!” – “I don’t have any problems!”. Most people shorten both of these even further, such that the exchange is more like: “Jambo?” … “Jambo!”. Anyway, when Kenyan children learn English, they obviously learn (paralleling Swahili) that the standard greeting is a question-and-answer: “How are you?”–to which the reply is “Fine.” Here’s how we know: ...

In a move reminiscent of Christ himself, my favorite e-zine, The Holy Observer, is back! This is Christian satire and parody at its finest. Perfectly irreverent and hilarious, they put their finger on everything that makes us cringe about Christians and their culture. A few years ago, the site went down without any explanation, so in their own tradition I wrote up a fake news article about what had happened. I never got around to posting it, but now is the perfect occasion. Looks like I may have been wrong! ...

My car When I decided to go to Africa for 6 months (and do who knows what after that), it became increasingly clear that keeping my car was not going to be easy. Insurance payments and finding a place to store it just weren’t options. And so, somewhat grudgingly, I began the process of trying to sell it about a month ago. At that time it was a very practical and financial decision, and I didn’t think much of it. Now I’m sitting here with the fattest wad of cash I’ve ever seen, no car, and surprisingly strong emotions. I feel, for whatever reason, as if I’ve lost a friend or a long-loved pet. It can’t be the wheels themselves–if anything, having a car has been somewhat of a burden with gas prices being so high, having to worry about maintenance, etc… For the most part, I didn’t need a car in Palo Alto, and I certainly don’t need one to get around here in San Francisco. So why do I miss my beautiful white Civic? I think a lot of things are wrapped up in it. It was the first car I ever bought, during my junior year at Stanford. I can remember being with my parents at the car lot, learning the tricks of the car buying trade, knowing what I wanted but knowing I couldn’t afford it, and finally finding a good (if expensive) match in my little Civic. That was a somewhat momentous process in and of itself, and the car loan was the first monthly payment I ever had! Definitely “coming of age”. But fundamentally, it has to be the memories. Memories of adventure, companionship, solitude, of joyful or tearful singing in the only place I could go where I didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing. Memories of driving a girl to dinner (and trying to be all cool because I was driving stick), or memories of the drive up the 280 to San Francisco, hitting the steering wheel and crying in frustration because I’d fouled up yet another romantic opportunity. Memories of driving cross-country with David and camping in a deserted Joshua Tree, or tackling the winding 140 before dawn with Dan dozing, on our way to a climb in Tuolumne. For me, the car was never something I got into to take me to work–never anything I dreaded. Sure, I used it for grocery shopping and day-to-day errands, but the vast majority of the 40,000 miles I put on it were road trip miles, adventure miles, real life miles. So tonight, as I watched the new owner drive away, it felt somehow wrong, as if he had stolen many of my favorite moments from the past four and a half years. I wanted to run after and say, “No! I take it back!” I think we both got a fair deal out of the transaction, but something inside says that I sold the car (“her”, if you want to anthropomorphize) far too cheaply. Well, at the end of the day, she’s just a chunk of metal and gears, however pretty she was. And I’m not meant to care that much about a chunk of metal and gears. The memories will have to find another repository, and I’m sure they’ll last much longer than the car, however the new owner treats it! For now, I need the money to pursue the path that I’ve chosen. I could spiritualize the moment more than is necessary, and claim that it was for the kingdom of God (and who knows, maybe it is), but that’s not the point. Whatever the case, I just sold my most financially valuable possession. Not quite “everything”, but it’s a start. So, in honor of the car’s exit from my life story, I thought I’d post a few (chronologically ordered) pictures to commemorate the role it played in a lot of really important moments for me. Of course, it’s not an exhaustive album, but it will have to do. Goodbye, Little Car!

I had the opportunity to spend a week with my parents in Costa Rica recently, and wanted to share some photos from the trip. They’re primarily from San Jose, where we spent most of our time, but a few are from the Tabacon hot springs up near the volcano Arenal. Simply click on the photo below to see the whole photo set at Flickr:

The world is a flood, a roaring flood Of different voices and experiences Each a call, a clamor for justification Each drowning out all else The song is shrill, fingers in ears Eyes closed, mouth working Streams that shatter instead of flow (Just one sperm gets the egg) Cast in the torrent we sink or swim And in both the drift inexorable Downward in the great dissipation A waterfall of pure selfish Shout By some chance an eddy forms A silence outside the current A strange vacuum we find, and Hear ourselves for the first time My great contribution to the world My voice in its endless streams Now in the beautiful stillness Is heard as a strident “me, me, me” In the clatter my voice was my own As a puppet may be unique in all respects, But still moved by the same strings: Essence of chains though seeming free In these backwaters there’s no need To scream ourselves deaf in isolation But listening together, a voice ex nihilo invades Low frequency song from eternity past The song was there in the flood A hum of bass or treble dance of stars But in the quiet heard for what it is The tale of a different Stream altogether Then a snake of a current grabs ahold The quiet corner is no more We disappear back into the noise The striving to tell right from wrong And we forget the sound of the voice That alien song of still, deep pools But we remember the memory, And hope that by its magic We might spin free from the flood once more

My community spent a week in the wilderness recently, trekking from Mammoth to Tuolumne in California’s Sierras. It was an incredible journey, filled with fun, rest, and even a few challenges along the way (including some adrenalin-pumping encounters with bears). Sadly, my camera broke on day 2, but I did manage to capture a few shots, and the last ones these lenses did see were, quite frankly, astounding. The colors involved in alpine sunsets are fantastic! ...

One thing I’ve realized in the recent move up to San Francisco is that I have a lot of Stuff. I don’t think I’d have noticed if moving into an empty apartment–all my Stuff only filled 2 cars–but since I’m moving temporarily into a room that’s already furnished and decorated, all my stuff is basically Extra Stuff that I’m struggling to fit anywhere. My books don’t fit on the shelves, my clothes don’t fit on the racks, my guitars don’t fit in the corner, and finding somewhere appropriate to display my special beer glass collection is a hopeless luxury.

During the last week, I was on 9 flights around the country, for various reasons (weddings and visiting my brother). I find that plane rides are a great time and place for personal meditation, and given that I have recently decided to go back to Kenya and spend some more time at Tumaini, I had ample reason for such meditation. I was also listening to a lecture series by Charles Ringma of Regent seminary in Vancouver (which I should blog about soon, as it’s been the most impactful lecture series for me in the last few years). A concept from those lectures stuck in my head, which I’d thought about before but which had become somewhat more real for me recently. That was the concept of downward mobility.

A little while ago I linked to my Facebook applications, but that’s not the end of the story. My friend Justin and I have been keeping a blog on all things Facebook, particularly the new Platform I mentioned which has allowed third-party app development. We’ve gotten some pretty good traffic, and you should check it out: Inside Facebook

One of the reasons I’ve been forced to maintain blog silence recently is that I’ve been spending a lot of my free time working on several Facebook apps. As most people around the web now seem to have heard, Facebook has recently opened up their social networking site to allow third-party developers (like myself) to create little widgets for people to add to their profiles. I’ve so far created a suite of 4 of these mini applications, which allow Facebook users to show off what they’re reading (or listening to, or watching, or playing) and interact with friends in each of those spheres. The apps are called Books, CDs, Video Games, and DVDs, respectively. It would be great if you checked these out and added them to your profile! With close to 35,000 total users so far, it’s possible for me to run a small business based on the apps, which would be fun. I’d love your help. ...