What does the Africa Mercy look like?
Take a gander at a creative tour of the world's largest NGO hospital ship, featuring Jay Swanson and myself, Beau Chevassus.
Chicken Fight
An Epic Africa Mercy Tour & Battle
This video does not reflect the views of, nor is it endorsed by Mercy Ships. However it did receive last place (The Razzie Award, a big bag of rice) in the Africa Mercy Independent Film Festival 2011 (AMIFF), and was quickly disqualified due to excessive use of violence and for not properly sanitizing hands upon entering the food line. It was debuted regardless as, according to chaplaincy, "A good example of what not to submit in an Africa Mercy film festival."
Writer, editor, and actor - Jay Swanson. http://JayOnABoat.com
Producer, actor, and sound effects - Beau Chevassus. http://B.eaudacio.us
Director of Photography and Cinematographer - Liz Chevassus.
Special thanks to the entire Africa Mercy crew, Video Copilot, Jeremy, Josh, Cassidy, Nathan, and Stockholm.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Sierra Leone: The land of informal formality.
Sierra Leone, the land of late-night street discos and catchy slang, is at times remarkably formal. Even architecturally when driving down the dusty streets of Freetown, one will see a cement structure with re-bar sticking from the sides—not uncommon for third world countries—then suddenly out pops a beautiful, wood-paneled colonial house nestled among the cold cement cubicles.
Similarly with the Sierra Leone African pidgin language (Krio), you will find a turn of phrase flourishing with formality. A “how are you?” may either be “how de body?” (obviously informal) or they might great you with a “how de morning sah?” How is your morning sir? I’ve never been called “sir” before, unless mall security is attempting to get my attention. However Sloans don’t hear themselves being formal. It’s just a natural facet of their mother tongue, curiously influenced by Freetown’s early days when the ex-slave founders knew only of the formality of their colonial households or British slaving ships.
When visiting the Chimpanzee Reserve near Freetown, the local guide Moses explained how careful we must be around the chimps because they are able to throw rocks with deadly precision and force. After explaining in broken English how we must keep our distance, he ended with a matter-of-fact, “Your safety is paramount.” I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard that word used beyond Paramount Studios. We were careful around the chimps.
At Tiwai Island, a nature reserve in Southern Sierra Leone, we had the chief (“de cook”) making us some of the best grilled chicken I’ve had in Africa. But before we could enjoy our spicy meal, my friend Lewis had to let him know that we had come back early from our hike. After Lewis had located our cook friend, he politely explained that we were back an hour earlier and whenever the cook is ready we are available to eat. The cook dramatically paused, then very slowly said, “Wouldn’t you agree,” choosing his words precisely, “that nothing good comes from something done in haste?” Lewis, being somewhat taken aback by this sudden philosophical reflection said, “Why yes, I guess I do agree.” “Then dinner will be ready in 30 minutes,” our cook stated.
Finally being the videographer onboard Africa Mercy means I am frequently exposed to smiling, happy locals beckoning me to “snap me! Snap me!” As I lift my camera to film them or take their picture, suddenly their flashing white smiles collapse into grim, formal expressions. I take their picture, then right when I lower my camera they burst into smiles and laughter. I’m afraid when I show people my pictures, everyone will think I deal with very difficult subjects. But they’re just being formal. The only pictures they’ve seen are weathered black and white stills of their grandparents hanging in their living room, obviously not smiling. If one can afford just one photo, might as well look properly regal. Perhaps their grandfather was dressed in British officer regimentals, or their grandmother was in a classic, high-necked dress, sitting in a rocking chair under a palm tree. With this in mind, it’s only natural to pose like this.
Sierra Leone: The land of informal formality.
Similarly with the Sierra Leone African pidgin language (Krio), you will find a turn of phrase flourishing with formality. A “how are you?” may either be “how de body?” (obviously informal) or they might great you with a “how de morning sah?” How is your morning sir? I’ve never been called “sir” before, unless mall security is attempting to get my attention. However Sloans don’t hear themselves being formal. It’s just a natural facet of their mother tongue, curiously influenced by Freetown’s early days when the ex-slave founders knew only of the formality of their colonial households or British slaving ships.
When visiting the Chimpanzee Reserve near Freetown, the local guide Moses explained how careful we must be around the chimps because they are able to throw rocks with deadly precision and force. After explaining in broken English how we must keep our distance, he ended with a matter-of-fact, “Your safety is paramount.” I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard that word used beyond Paramount Studios. We were careful around the chimps.
At Tiwai Island, a nature reserve in Southern Sierra Leone, we had the chief (“de cook”) making us some of the best grilled chicken I’ve had in Africa. But before we could enjoy our spicy meal, my friend Lewis had to let him know that we had come back early from our hike. After Lewis had located our cook friend, he politely explained that we were back an hour earlier and whenever the cook is ready we are available to eat. The cook dramatically paused, then very slowly said, “Wouldn’t you agree,” choosing his words precisely, “that nothing good comes from something done in haste?” Lewis, being somewhat taken aback by this sudden philosophical reflection said, “Why yes, I guess I do agree.” “Then dinner will be ready in 30 minutes,” our cook stated.
Finally being the videographer onboard Africa Mercy means I am frequently exposed to smiling, happy locals beckoning me to “snap me! Snap me!” As I lift my camera to film them or take their picture, suddenly their flashing white smiles collapse into grim, formal expressions. I take their picture, then right when I lower my camera they burst into smiles and laughter. I’m afraid when I show people my pictures, everyone will think I deal with very difficult subjects. But they’re just being formal. The only pictures they’ve seen are weathered black and white stills of their grandparents hanging in their living room, obviously not smiling. If one can afford just one photo, might as well look properly regal. Perhaps their grandfather was dressed in British officer regimentals, or their grandmother was in a classic, high-necked dress, sitting in a rocking chair under a palm tree. With this in mind, it’s only natural to pose like this.
Sierra Leone: The land of informal formality.
Here are a few photos I took. A second before and after these photos were taken, these people wore giant, bright smiles. Note the con-artist who had fun with Liz Cantu's camera. ;)
A quick picture of Liz in the wards. Note her lovely smile:
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The Parable of the Good Samaritan... wrongly interpreted?
There has been a radical thought percolating and staying relatively lukewarm, like church coffee, in the back of my mind. Here’s my thought: Most Christians have the Parable of the Good Samaritan wrong.
Intro
Intro
I realize this is a sticky situation because I’ve heard countless faith-driven orators, those much more skilled than me, speak about this passage. Of course I’m apprehensive about critiquing the interpretation of a passage that is used as a flag-ship model for Mercy Ships, World Vision, and Samaritan’s Purse, the latter’s name being derived directly from this passage. I should mention that my intentions are far from pretentious, but rather my thoughts arise from a great deal of reflection and study. From my fallible mind I grapple with this passage, and I wholeheartedly welcome feedback from my brothers and sisters.
Now for the Meat
Everyone knows the Parable of the Good Samaritan. This passage is frequently used to justify the need to serve the poor and those in need, which is fine. Jesus clearly tells us to follow the example of the Good Samaritan, that there is no debate. “Go and do likewise.” Serve those in need. Piece of cake.
But there is something we’re missing if we stop there. When Jesus says, “Love your neighbor as you love yourself,” notice the initial question from the law expert. “And who is my neighbor?” asks the expert, or alternatively, “So who do I love?” (vs 29)
Jesus responds with the parable of the Good Samaritan, which you know I’m sure, and closes with, “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” (vs 36) Or, “Which of these three should you love?”
Every Christian I’ve heard, and maybe you at this very moment, thinks that the victim—the one who was robbed—is our neighbor. The one we must love. But Jesus is asking “Which of these three” is the neighbor and we’re called to love? The priest, the Levite, or the Samaritan? The expert responds with “The one who had mercy on him,” (vs 37) or put plainly “The Samaritan.” Jesus makes no mention of the victim, almost as if it’s already a given that we’re supposed to love and help the guy who got beat up and robbed. Before we love the victim we are called to love Someone else first, which then fuels our love to help those in need. The Samaritan. Jesus responds, “Correct. Go and follow his example.”
I do not think it is necessary at this point to indulge in a hidden allegory to find a cryptic message in this parable, though it is fascinating and worthy of study to consider the priest being the Law, the Levite as being the Prophets, and the Samaritan as Christ. (especially considering that the Samaritan saved the victim, paid his debt, and promised that he’d be back. Christ figure anyone?)
But again, the main point—the message Jesus wanted to get across to the law expert—is to love those who respond in grace and to follow their example. It was no mistake Jesus chose a Samaritan as the “Good example to follow” in His story. Loving, and let along following, the example of a Samaritan was the epitome of violating Jewish tradition and customs. And Jesus’ message was all about living by grace and not by a list of rules. Jesus reestablished this notion all the throughout His life, an example being when He ate with tax collectors. “Why are you eating with sinners?” the Pharisees asked and Jesus responded, “Guys. It’s not about a list of rules… it’s about grace.” (Beau’s paraphrase… His exact words were “I desire mercy not sacrifice.”) (Matthew 9:13)
Thus the moral of the Good Samaritan Parable, which differs slightly from traditional misinterpretation: We are to love The Way of the Heart. We are to love this Way as much as “you love yourself.” Furthermore, “go and do likewise.” Act on that love. Let it drive you to help those who have fallen.
So as you can see, the main point really hasn’t changed much; Christians everywhere still understand the moral is following the example of the Good Samaritan. But something important is added when we correctly read Christ’s parable: We are called not only to follow the Good Samaritan’s model, but we are to love that model as we love ourselves. Then that love for Him is what drives our desire to help those in need.
A love for Jesus.