So Ginni is back in the US and I am teaching her CCD class of 4th graders. The lesson this week is about the beatitudes. The book we are using focuses on being happy, using the format of the beatitudes "Happy are the ... For they shall ..."
So, I ask the kids to write down three people they know who are happy - and why.
They all start writing away, except one. This is an 'active' boy who can't sit still, can't stop talking, and typically can't focus on the task at hand.
Eventually they get that first task done and I ask the next question, if you could have anything in the world that would make you happy what would you want? Again, they all start writing away, except one. As he acts up and distracts the others I'm getting a bit short on patience but finally they're all done and I have them read some of their ideas.
There are the obvious answers like, I wish I had a million dollars. Then there are the child-like ideas like, I wish I could fly. Then we get to the hyper-active trouble making kid. "I wish I wouldn't get beaten with the hot wire." Just like that - spoken with no excitement, no embarrasment, as if it was the most natural thing to be beaten with the hot wire and his wish was that he wouldn't get beat.
Coming from Boston, with all the child-abuse sensibilities filling me I begin wondering what child advocate group I need to call. When the class is over they all leave and I start setting up for the High School kids that come next. One of the volunteers that comes for that class is someone who is actually a teacher so I pull her aside and tell her about the hot wire. She shakes her head and looks at her feet and says, "You know Deacon, corporal punishment is allowed in the schools here. In fact its encouraged."
The public school teachers here are empowered to beat the children who act up. A paddle is something teachers have in the classroom. Clearly they don't use the hot wire, that's something he experiences at home. My volunteer told me that a few months ago a member of Parliament had written an editorial in one of the newspapers asking the question 'Should corporal punishment be eliminated in the schools?' He put forth his argument and for the next few days he was ripped up and down by just about everyone. 'Who do you think you are? Are you better than God? The bible says spare the rod and spoil the child - are you better than the bible?' It just went on and on for days and eventually he simply dropped the idea as being extremely unpopular.
I can recall during last year's CCD program I mentioned that the kids were difficult to control to a few parents and their immediate response was 'Well beat them, Deacon - if they don't behave beat them'.
Clearly we are not beating them - but equally clear is that beating the children who act up is part of the Bahamian culture. Eliminating the beating with a hot wire, however, is something I need to look into.
Till nex time.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Yet another murder
Saturday morning at 6:30 the phone rings. Its someone from our church in Cargill Creek telling me that one of my parishioners sons was shot last night in Nassau. He tells me she will be trying to catch a morning flight and it might be good if I could be there.
I wash up, throw on some clothes and head to the Andros Town airport. The airport in the early morning is a busy place. The terminal is one 30'x30' building with several small airlines and a few charters who seem to all schedule thier morning flight to Nassau from 7-7:30.
I know the family car and, scanning the parking lot I know they haven't reached here yet so I wait in the van, hoping to catch them before they go inside. Eventually they arrive and she is clearly overcome with grief. We hug a long time as her husband unloads the luggage. Her mother is also with them for the trip to Nassau.
I should explain that her son is from a prior relationship. He is not the son of her current marriage. As her husband unloads the luggage and she and I hug, amid wails of grief, people begin to come over and gradually word spreads throughout the airport. Everyone knows her, everyone knows her son, and the shock of his being shot gives way to compassion.
People help her into the terminal, her husband buys the tickets, her cries and tears fill the small building. I wipe her tears, and gradually am able to lead her outside for some privacy. She is unable to talk but I begin to calm her down a bit reminding her how God has worked in her life in the past, how He has been with her in tough times before, and how He will be with her through this as well. All the time she is nodding, agreeing, but the tears will not stop and all we can do is hold on another.
Her husband and mother join us and he asks the mother for her money so he can buy her ticket too. Its then she tells him she has no money. In the midst of all the caos his face fills with disbelief. He looks at his hands and knows there isn't enough money for 3 tickets, and helplessly he looks at me. I open my wallet and have $30 - the ticket is $50. In the crowd surrounding us is a man who also lost a son to a shooting in Nassau not 4 months ago. "What do you need?" he asks, seeing me with my wallet open and the look of despair on the husbands face, and a $20 bill is added to the kitty.
Back to the counter goes the husband to buy the 3rd ticket, and knowing we have time I start steering her to the church van so she can have some privacy while we wait for the plane. Half way to the van people come streaming out of the terminal calling us. Rather than having them wait for the flight we had tickets for, the airline gave the money to one of the charter flights whose plane was loaded and ready to go. The charter was holding the plane so they could get off as soon as possible.
Ten minutes later they are on the plane, the door closes, and the plane starts moving - literally before they reach their seats I think.
That night the details appear on the news. An altercation in a Nassau night spot - words are said, and its over - but then he returns with a gun.
In the year we have been here 4 men from Andros have been killed on Nassau. This young man came from a family that doesn't have much. He served as an altar boy and as a youngster he was bright and one of his teachers noticed. With some effort she was able to work with him and helped him win a scholarship to a college in the US. When he returned to the Bahamas, he started work and his future looked bright.
There are no words for the mother of this man. Her grief and pain are real and it will take her quite some time to deal with the loss of her son.
Please keep her in your prayers, and mention Ginni and I in those prayers as we will be ministering to her long after the funeral and burial.
I wash up, throw on some clothes and head to the Andros Town airport. The airport in the early morning is a busy place. The terminal is one 30'x30' building with several small airlines and a few charters who seem to all schedule thier morning flight to Nassau from 7-7:30.
I know the family car and, scanning the parking lot I know they haven't reached here yet so I wait in the van, hoping to catch them before they go inside. Eventually they arrive and she is clearly overcome with grief. We hug a long time as her husband unloads the luggage. Her mother is also with them for the trip to Nassau.
I should explain that her son is from a prior relationship. He is not the son of her current marriage. As her husband unloads the luggage and she and I hug, amid wails of grief, people begin to come over and gradually word spreads throughout the airport. Everyone knows her, everyone knows her son, and the shock of his being shot gives way to compassion.
People help her into the terminal, her husband buys the tickets, her cries and tears fill the small building. I wipe her tears, and gradually am able to lead her outside for some privacy. She is unable to talk but I begin to calm her down a bit reminding her how God has worked in her life in the past, how He has been with her in tough times before, and how He will be with her through this as well. All the time she is nodding, agreeing, but the tears will not stop and all we can do is hold on another.
Her husband and mother join us and he asks the mother for her money so he can buy her ticket too. Its then she tells him she has no money. In the midst of all the caos his face fills with disbelief. He looks at his hands and knows there isn't enough money for 3 tickets, and helplessly he looks at me. I open my wallet and have $30 - the ticket is $50. In the crowd surrounding us is a man who also lost a son to a shooting in Nassau not 4 months ago. "What do you need?" he asks, seeing me with my wallet open and the look of despair on the husbands face, and a $20 bill is added to the kitty.
Back to the counter goes the husband to buy the 3rd ticket, and knowing we have time I start steering her to the church van so she can have some privacy while we wait for the plane. Half way to the van people come streaming out of the terminal calling us. Rather than having them wait for the flight we had tickets for, the airline gave the money to one of the charter flights whose plane was loaded and ready to go. The charter was holding the plane so they could get off as soon as possible.
Ten minutes later they are on the plane, the door closes, and the plane starts moving - literally before they reach their seats I think.
That night the details appear on the news. An altercation in a Nassau night spot - words are said, and its over - but then he returns with a gun.
In the year we have been here 4 men from Andros have been killed on Nassau. This young man came from a family that doesn't have much. He served as an altar boy and as a youngster he was bright and one of his teachers noticed. With some effort she was able to work with him and helped him win a scholarship to a college in the US. When he returned to the Bahamas, he started work and his future looked bright.
There are no words for the mother of this man. Her grief and pain are real and it will take her quite some time to deal with the loss of her son.
Please keep her in your prayers, and mention Ginni and I in those prayers as we will be ministering to her long after the funeral and burial.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Veteran's Day Cheerleaders on Andros
Hello Again - well we have been here over a year now - time flies!
Last year there was a different OIC (Officer in Charge) and the AUTEC Navy Base I support and the Veteran's Day ceremonies were really quite minimal. So - this year I made a point of offering to do a Non-denominational Veterans Day Service in the Chapel. From what I hear there were discussions about the offer at the base but, we have a new OIC now and they decided to do their own thing. It actually was wonderful.
At 7:30, during the Flag Raising, a color guard with sailors in dress whites was present. The chaplain of the base VFW post did an opening prayer, the OIC spoke, the bugle sounded, and the flags were raised with much solemnity while everyone stood at attention. All in all it was quite impressive.
What I didn't know was that, as part of the weekend-long celebration the cheerleaders for the Jacksonville Jaquars were on the base. The night before they performed at the baseball field (an event I missed), and they were there for the flag raising. The OIC made an interesting announcement during his remarks related to the cheerleaders. It seems that the night before one of them had confided to him that she had just joined the Navy and would be reporting for basic training at the end of the football season!
Well, after the flag raising this gave every sailor on the base a reason to talk to her and she was instantly the most popular cheerleader on their squad!
On a different note - one of the wives of a civil engineer on Base is also the Chapel Coordinator for the Base. She does a great job of coordinating the facility among all the various groups that us it. Well her hubby has taken a new job and they'll be leaving the Base at the end of the month. As she packs she needs to clean out her cupboards and asked if I would take some of the extra food she had in her cupboards. Well - there is no such thing as extra food for a Bahamian so I ended up collecting 3 good-sized boxes of food!
After sorting frozen stuff from dry goods, and sorting out the opened and unopened boxes, I was able to put together alot of things to give to the poorer members of our Churches. Boxes of grits, intant oatmeal packets, candy, pasta . . . One family of 8 living in a two-room shack was very thankful for what I could give them and they really need it.
Last year AUTEC donated a large food basket to me for Christmas that we pretty much gave away to families in need. With the economy the way it is I hope they repeat that generous offer. Its one thing to give a family money - its something else for them to get a food basket. Even staples like grits are very welcome, but seeing meat (like a can of tuna or a tin of corned beef) is very prized and they can't thank you enough.
With that said, Bahamians are very generous themselves. We have had women give us home made breads, and wonderful home made tarts (I love the coconut, Gin prefers the pineapple). One man even rides to the church on his bike with a plastic bag hanging from his handlebars - inside the bag will be two dinners, home made bahamian fish dinners with rice in a great sauce.
Anyway - charity here goes two ways - us to them and vise versa (See how they love one another is very real here).
Till next time.
Last year there was a different OIC (Officer in Charge) and the AUTEC Navy Base I support and the Veteran's Day ceremonies were really quite minimal. So - this year I made a point of offering to do a Non-denominational Veterans Day Service in the Chapel. From what I hear there were discussions about the offer at the base but, we have a new OIC now and they decided to do their own thing. It actually was wonderful.
At 7:30, during the Flag Raising, a color guard with sailors in dress whites was present. The chaplain of the base VFW post did an opening prayer, the OIC spoke, the bugle sounded, and the flags were raised with much solemnity while everyone stood at attention. All in all it was quite impressive.
What I didn't know was that, as part of the weekend-long celebration the cheerleaders for the Jacksonville Jaquars were on the base. The night before they performed at the baseball field (an event I missed), and they were there for the flag raising. The OIC made an interesting announcement during his remarks related to the cheerleaders. It seems that the night before one of them had confided to him that she had just joined the Navy and would be reporting for basic training at the end of the football season!
Well, after the flag raising this gave every sailor on the base a reason to talk to her and she was instantly the most popular cheerleader on their squad!
On a different note - one of the wives of a civil engineer on Base is also the Chapel Coordinator for the Base. She does a great job of coordinating the facility among all the various groups that us it. Well her hubby has taken a new job and they'll be leaving the Base at the end of the month. As she packs she needs to clean out her cupboards and asked if I would take some of the extra food she had in her cupboards. Well - there is no such thing as extra food for a Bahamian so I ended up collecting 3 good-sized boxes of food!
After sorting frozen stuff from dry goods, and sorting out the opened and unopened boxes, I was able to put together alot of things to give to the poorer members of our Churches. Boxes of grits, intant oatmeal packets, candy, pasta . . . One family of 8 living in a two-room shack was very thankful for what I could give them and they really need it.
Last year AUTEC donated a large food basket to me for Christmas that we pretty much gave away to families in need. With the economy the way it is I hope they repeat that generous offer. Its one thing to give a family money - its something else for them to get a food basket. Even staples like grits are very welcome, but seeing meat (like a can of tuna or a tin of corned beef) is very prized and they can't thank you enough.
With that said, Bahamians are very generous themselves. We have had women give us home made breads, and wonderful home made tarts (I love the coconut, Gin prefers the pineapple). One man even rides to the church on his bike with a plastic bag hanging from his handlebars - inside the bag will be two dinners, home made bahamian fish dinners with rice in a great sauce.
Anyway - charity here goes two ways - us to them and vise versa (See how they love one another is very real here).
Till next time.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Catching up on the news
Well I am surprised to see my last post was in OCT - time flies!
All really wonderful people with hearts as big as all outdoors.
Where to begin. Well, for starters, if you have read the blog for awhile you know that one of my responsibilites is the US Navy AUTEC base, where I serve as the Catholic Chaplain for the Catholics on base. This ministry is a bit different in that I am serving a US population which includes sailors, civil engineers, contractors, and their families. Weekend liturgies can be 7 people or 37 depending upon what is happening on the base. Companies send in technicians to test new products all the time and when that happens the population can swell.
There is a part-time Chaplain, employed by the Navy, that serves the Protestants on the base. He is a great guy but only there every other weekend. Consequently, if any emergency happens mid-week, I get the call.
We recently had a Chapel Council Meeting - basically this is like a Parish Council but it includes representatives of all denominations, and Navy personnel. This is a pic of the current council.
All really wonderful people with hearts as big as all outdoors.Parish life is busy as ever - particularly busy now since Ginni has left for a month of nursing back home. She needs to take her Hospice Certification Test once again so she has much to do. It will make for a lonely November. If all goes well I might get to fly home Thanksgiving week and be there Mon-Fri. I can't miss the weekends though, covering the 3 churches is always a priority.
CCD is running full tilt - we've started slow because we have had a few Bahamian holidays that interrupted things. Columbus Day in the US is Discovery Day here - after all Columbus did land here and it is a major holiday. The schools also had a mid-term break which also interrupted classes for a week. Right now we're on schedule again and, with Ginni gone, it is very challenging. Ginni and I have done tons of educational things prior to coming here, but its been primarily with adults, doing children is a whole different kettle of fish.
Speaking of kettles of fish - Peter, our maintenance man/groundskeeper has been very generous giving us fish he's caught. Typically they are small 'fryers', but this past week he came by with a whole tupperware container of cooked fish in a sauce - delicious. "Deac - Ya Gotta taste some Bahamian food mahn!" He also had some beans and rice, but not what Bostonians typically think of when they hear 'beans and rice'. Peter's were white rice with lima beans - really quite a delicious contrast when mixed with the sauce and fish. The sauce is a tomato-based sauce but heavy on the lime and red pepper (heat). Anyway, I liked it alot.
The generosity of the Bahamian people is really amazing. We stop to give communion to an older woman whose family really has very little and, every time we stop, two ice cold sodas appear for us. Other families have given us everything from peas and rice, to stuffed crab, to coconut tarts and cakes of all kinds. One family even dropped off a bag of lobster tails!
I guess the latest news is the issues we continue to have with our local thief, addict, and homeless man. Homeless isn't totally accurate - he has a very large extended family but at this point in his life he has alienated most of them. We see him from time to time staggering drunk in the town and he has a history of stealing and addiction. He drops by the church 3-4 times a week asking for a drink, a sandwich, or whatever else he thinks we might have. We let him wash our van and pay him with food but, while we try to be as generous as we can, he is becoming more and more of a problem of late. The most recent thing that really sent me over the edge is Ginni found him sleeping in the church van. I read him the riot act about this months ago and he hasn't done it, but last Saturday morning Ginni went to the van to go pick me up at the airport and there he was. She had to wake him up and get him out before she could leave. A bit scary for her to say the least.
I decided to speak to the local police and get some advise. They said I could have him arrested for breaking into the van but instead we decided that they would take him aside and, in rather stern words I suspect, let him know that if it happens again they will indeed arrest him.
On the one hand I want to be charitable - but on the other we need to be safe.
Well, I need to be heading off to Cargill Creek for CCD so I will sign off for now. Hope to be more faithful in writing in the future. - Peace
Friday, October 16, 2009
Busy Busy Busy
Well it seems like its been longer than it should since my last post so let me tell you what's been happening.
First, the Parish Council and I decided we needed a fundraiser. Both churches have termites ($2,000 is the low bid), both need rugs ($3,000), our driveway is getting almost impassable due to potholes and rain errosion, and . . . well you get the idea.
So we started a PARISH PLEDGE program where parishioners will pledge a certain amount and have until DEC to pay what they pledge - and to kick it off we would have a picnic. So I crank up the computer and generate a pledge letter, pledge envelopes, pledge forms - all using mailmerge so each letter, envelope, and form has the parishioners' name and address. Its great!
Next its the picnic, someone on the Parish Council offers to find a place that will let us use their beach, coordinate food, etc. and that is off and running. Great!
So Sunday comes and the pledge envelopes get picked up, people seem to understand the need and it looks like we're on our way with a sizable donation already submitted. The day of the picnic I take off with the van and pick up over 20 people, each carrying a pot for the potluck picnic. The day was great, I swam with the kids, the food was great and all in all a wonderful family day. "It was off da chain mahn!"
At the end of the picnic I bring Ginni home, planning to go back and pick up people for their rides home -but- (there's always a but) before I could head back I have a rather dramatic allergic reation to something that I either ate, or encountered while swimming, and ended up at the clinic needing an injection (Ginni's comfort level of the health-care system here took a nose-dive after this little adventure). Suffice it to say it was a poor end to a great day, but all in all it was a success. (Now to see if the pledges come in).
While all this was in the works - one of our parishioners dies after a long illness. She was someone we had brought communion to on Sunday afternoons for months, but her passing is being felt by many people. So - our first funeral.
Bahamian funerals are a BIG deal. The body is shipped to Nassau (there is no funeral home on our island). The body is then shipped back in the hearse which brings the body to the Church. It lies in state all day Friday, all night, and Saturday is the funeral. People come by all throughout the day to view the body and there can be much crying and shouting as people express their emotions freely.
Tomorrow is Saturday - the funeral day. The family has put together a 6 page glossy program for the funeral - and it is quite a program. Funerals begin with a pre-service, this is where eulogies are read and it can be the most emotional time. They have 3 with a solo between each one, followed by AS I KNEW HER, a recollection of the deceased life (I hope an hour will be enough time). After the funeral there is a walking procession from the church to the cemetery - often with a brass band. It should be interesting.
From the funeral we will go to the family's home for food and drinks, a gala event to be sure, but after my allergic reaction at the picnic I think it might be wise for me to skip this part. (Although Bahamian parties are a hoot).
Next week we go to Nassau for our monthly clergy meeting and I'm already booked with an allergy doctor to see if we can find out what it was that I'm allergic to. I'll let you know.
Till next time
First, the Parish Council and I decided we needed a fundraiser. Both churches have termites ($2,000 is the low bid), both need rugs ($3,000), our driveway is getting almost impassable due to potholes and rain errosion, and . . . well you get the idea.
So we started a PARISH PLEDGE program where parishioners will pledge a certain amount and have until DEC to pay what they pledge - and to kick it off we would have a picnic. So I crank up the computer and generate a pledge letter, pledge envelopes, pledge forms - all using mailmerge so each letter, envelope, and form has the parishioners' name and address. Its great!
Next its the picnic, someone on the Parish Council offers to find a place that will let us use their beach, coordinate food, etc. and that is off and running. Great!
So Sunday comes and the pledge envelopes get picked up, people seem to understand the need and it looks like we're on our way with a sizable donation already submitted. The day of the picnic I take off with the van and pick up over 20 people, each carrying a pot for the potluck picnic. The day was great, I swam with the kids, the food was great and all in all a wonderful family day. "It was off da chain mahn!"
At the end of the picnic I bring Ginni home, planning to go back and pick up people for their rides home -but- (there's always a but) before I could head back I have a rather dramatic allergic reation to something that I either ate, or encountered while swimming, and ended up at the clinic needing an injection (Ginni's comfort level of the health-care system here took a nose-dive after this little adventure). Suffice it to say it was a poor end to a great day, but all in all it was a success. (Now to see if the pledges come in).
While all this was in the works - one of our parishioners dies after a long illness. She was someone we had brought communion to on Sunday afternoons for months, but her passing is being felt by many people. So - our first funeral.
Bahamian funerals are a BIG deal. The body is shipped to Nassau (there is no funeral home on our island). The body is then shipped back in the hearse which brings the body to the Church. It lies in state all day Friday, all night, and Saturday is the funeral. People come by all throughout the day to view the body and there can be much crying and shouting as people express their emotions freely.
Tomorrow is Saturday - the funeral day. The family has put together a 6 page glossy program for the funeral - and it is quite a program. Funerals begin with a pre-service, this is where eulogies are read and it can be the most emotional time. They have 3 with a solo between each one, followed by AS I KNEW HER, a recollection of the deceased life (I hope an hour will be enough time). After the funeral there is a walking procession from the church to the cemetery - often with a brass band. It should be interesting.
From the funeral we will go to the family's home for food and drinks, a gala event to be sure, but after my allergic reaction at the picnic I think it might be wise for me to skip this part. (Although Bahamian parties are a hoot).
Next week we go to Nassau for our monthly clergy meeting and I'm already booked with an allergy doctor to see if we can find out what it was that I'm allergic to. I'll let you know.
Till next time
Thursday, October 8, 2009
In prior posts I have told you about new families that have moved in to North Andros and have asked us to start coming up there. Needless to say we are going!
Mastic Point is at the far northern end of Andros, a good hours ride through mangrove swamps and pine forests. Adding this to our Sunday makes for a full Sunday. Usually, Sunday starts here at St. John Chrysostom in Fresh Creek with people arriving around 7:30 to open up the church, put up the hymn numbers, do one final sweeping of the rugs, etc. The first liturgy is at 8:30, then we clean up, pack up and leave by 10:00 to head south and starting picking up people for the 11:15 at Christ the King in Cargill Creek. After that liturgy the bus makes a run dropping off local folks, then we head back to Fresh Creek.
We usually get back around 2-2:30, grab a sandwich and then go out and do communion calls, but now adding Mastic Point communion calls wait till Monday and now we pack up the car and try to leave for Mastic Point. The church in Mastic Point was reclaimed by the bush long ago so we are meeting in the Primary School. This means when I say we pack up - I mean it. We pack everything from missalettes, candles, the Lectionary, Sacramentary, altar cloth, a crucifix and a large pix filled with consecrated hosts. Then we hit the road.
Roads on Andros come in various stages of pot-hole decay. You can go for miles with nothing then all of a sudden its an unexpected strip of 15 potholes within a 200 foot span of road. We have learned to weave our way around these obstacles, however this is particularly difficult in the rain. Rain creates puddles, puddles creates places for potholes to hide - just waiting to grab your car and rip off whatever wheel they happen to trap. Hitting one of these can actually jar your fillings right out of your head. So far we've been lucky.
During this past trip to Mastic Point however we (make that I) experienced something totally new. We are cruising down the road at about 50 mph, the windows down in the 90 degree heat as we enjoy the breeze. My elbow in on the window and my short-sleeve shirt is flapping in the wind. Suddenly I feel a small sharp sting around my shoulder, then another - I rub my shoulder, brush it off -sting-, I slide my hand up my shirt sleeve and feel nothing -sting-, I reach around my shoulder almost to my back and I feel a hard lump -sting-, so I squeeze it, feeling the crunchy sensation of an insect -sting-, an insect being crushes inside my shirt.
While driving, my shirtsleeve innocently flapping in the breeze had inadvertently trapped some sort of insect and, once inside my shirt, its defensive instincts kicked in and badda-boom-badda-bang, I am scratching away at God-knows what.
Now all this happens while Ginni is sitting there with her eyes closed, enjoying the breeze. We get to Mastic Point, people are waiting, we do the service, then spend some time reviewing the sacrament of reconciliation with a boy who has started home schooling with his mother preparing for 1st communion. We pack up and head back to Fresh Creek. Now for the first time I explain about the bug to Ginni and she says "So that's what the stain is on your shoulder!"
It turns out the bug was rather large and when I did finally kill it there was a blotch of goo absorbed by my shirt as a rather dark brown/yellow stain. The shoulder on the other hand had about 4-5 welts that have since passed.
Yet another part of our island life adventure.
Mastic Point is at the far northern end of Andros, a good hours ride through mangrove swamps and pine forests. Adding this to our Sunday makes for a full Sunday. Usually, Sunday starts here at St. John Chrysostom in Fresh Creek with people arriving around 7:30 to open up the church, put up the hymn numbers, do one final sweeping of the rugs, etc. The first liturgy is at 8:30, then we clean up, pack up and leave by 10:00 to head south and starting picking up people for the 11:15 at Christ the King in Cargill Creek. After that liturgy the bus makes a run dropping off local folks, then we head back to Fresh Creek.
We usually get back around 2-2:30, grab a sandwich and then go out and do communion calls, but now adding Mastic Point communion calls wait till Monday and now we pack up the car and try to leave for Mastic Point. The church in Mastic Point was reclaimed by the bush long ago so we are meeting in the Primary School. This means when I say we pack up - I mean it. We pack everything from missalettes, candles, the Lectionary, Sacramentary, altar cloth, a crucifix and a large pix filled with consecrated hosts. Then we hit the road.
Roads on Andros come in various stages of pot-hole decay. You can go for miles with nothing then all of a sudden its an unexpected strip of 15 potholes within a 200 foot span of road. We have learned to weave our way around these obstacles, however this is particularly difficult in the rain. Rain creates puddles, puddles creates places for potholes to hide - just waiting to grab your car and rip off whatever wheel they happen to trap. Hitting one of these can actually jar your fillings right out of your head. So far we've been lucky.
During this past trip to Mastic Point however we (make that I) experienced something totally new. We are cruising down the road at about 50 mph, the windows down in the 90 degree heat as we enjoy the breeze. My elbow in on the window and my short-sleeve shirt is flapping in the wind. Suddenly I feel a small sharp sting around my shoulder, then another - I rub my shoulder, brush it off -sting-, I slide my hand up my shirt sleeve and feel nothing -sting-, I reach around my shoulder almost to my back and I feel a hard lump -sting-, so I squeeze it, feeling the crunchy sensation of an insect -sting-, an insect being crushes inside my shirt.
While driving, my shirtsleeve innocently flapping in the breeze had inadvertently trapped some sort of insect and, once inside my shirt, its defensive instincts kicked in and badda-boom-badda-bang, I am scratching away at God-knows what.
Now all this happens while Ginni is sitting there with her eyes closed, enjoying the breeze. We get to Mastic Point, people are waiting, we do the service, then spend some time reviewing the sacrament of reconciliation with a boy who has started home schooling with his mother preparing for 1st communion. We pack up and head back to Fresh Creek. Now for the first time I explain about the bug to Ginni and she says "So that's what the stain is on your shoulder!"
It turns out the bug was rather large and when I did finally kill it there was a blotch of goo absorbed by my shirt as a rather dark brown/yellow stain. The shoulder on the other hand had about 4-5 welts that have since passed.
Yet another part of our island life adventure.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
CCD and Pigeon Hunting
Well clearly I have let my blogging slip. This week is the beginning of another year of CCD so the last few weeks have been CCD-prep time.
To start with, the only books we have are 10 years old. So last year we did JAN - MAY without books, pretty much using what books we had as guides for the topics to be covered, and creating our own curriculum week by week.
It worked well but we came to the decision we needed to upgrade the books we have. So using the web and talking to publishers of CCD materials we finally ordered about $800 in CCD books for our 50+ kids. A bit of a risk since only a third of them have signed up (last year we went from 32 to 57 kids three weeks after we started classes).
The other innovation besides getting new books was getting parents to volunteer to help teach. The Navy base has had some turnover so the number of families on base has dwindled to the point that the parents have all offered to teach their own children in a 'home schooling' model. St. John's numbers are manageable with the same two mothers who have offered to help. It is in Cargill Creek we needed help, and praise God the parents have come out of the woodwork. Four different couples will host classes in their homes, with each couple taking 5-6 children. Ginni and I will still teach the Confirmation class and will meet with the parent-teachers once a month for support. So - all in all it seems under control with our first classes all kicking off this week.
While preparing for this was time consuming the day to day issues we encounter here kept popping up. For example, here's a typical afternoon:
Mrs C drops by unannounced with her daughter. Mrs C. is in her 70s and her daughter about 40. Mrs. C cannot read or write and lives in a remote part of Behring Point, the most southern tip of Central Andros. So they come in, sit with Ginni and I, then Mrs. C says, "Faddah, no lights!" pretty much just like that.
Ginni and I look at each other, then at Mrs. C, and Ginni says, "Did they shut your power off?" and both Mrs C and her daughter nod and say an emphatic "Yes, Faddah". Now I should explain a bit about the electric company here. In prior blog entries I explained how we lost power without warning for weeks as they instituted rolling blackouts for 4-5 hours a day in the heat of August. They had lost a generator and its all they could do to get some power to you. My frustration with this situation lasting for weeks was evident when I started calling the TV station in Nassau, the utilities commission in Parliament, the corporate offices of the electric company on Nassau, and anybody else who would listen. It was horrible.
Mrs C's situation was simpler - she hadn't paid her bill. Now the electric company billing system is even more frutstrating. First, there isn't a billing system. Everyone knows that on the first of the month you should go to the electric company office and they'll tell you what you owe and you pay it. The electric company office is in Fresh Creek. Mrs. C is in Cargill Creek about a 40 minute ride. She has no car, and even if she did, she couldn't read the bill anyway. So - after some time had gone by, they cut her off.
I look at Mrs. C and ask, "Are you here because you want me to pay your electric bill?" Instant smiles, "Yes, Faddah - no lights, the Church will help, you pay Faddah." I look at Ginni, she looks at me, we both look at Mrs. C - "How much is your bill?" Mrs. C looks at her daughter and her daughter says, "$600 Faddah".
I took a deep breath and explained that the Church doesn't have that kind of money, we barely have enough to get by ourselves (actually we don't have enough to get by - the Archdiocese sends us a quarterly stipend to cover the shortfall). Our weekly collection from Cargill Creek is about $180 (and it takes about $60 in diesel fuel to fill the van).
We talked about the bill, what the minimum was that the electric company might take to turn on the power, what the daughter might be able to do to help. We talked about how to avoid this in the future (Mrs. C does get a small pension from the Gov) but she needs to get from Cargill Creek to Fresh Creek to pay the bill. While all this was going on another parishioner arrived for an appointment we had made to discuss a personal problem in her life.
So Ginni goes outside to talk with her, while I try to wrap up Mrs. C, promising to see what I could do and come to the daughter's house later that day. (My plan was not to pay the whole $600, but to dip into some of the US donations I'd been given by friends, family, and parishioners of St. Timothy's to help in our ministry here. With a bit from us, & a bit from the daughter, we'd get the power back on).
We spent the next hour counselling and praying with a very nice lady with a difficult family situation that was now impacting her job.
Then it was off to the bank, then to Mrs. C's daughter's house. I explained that this should be private, she shouldn't tell other parishioners her private affairs, and that they really needed to be paying the bill on time because I couldn't do this again (last thing I wanted was to become their bank, we simply can't help everyone every time). With the groundrules agreed to they thanked me again and again - then it was back to CCD books.
If you remember - back in June was Crab season. We have land crabs here on Andros and June is when they crawl out of their holes to be scooped up by the burlap bag full. During evening the roads are line with cars and the bush is full of people with bags and flashlights as they try to find all the crabs they can. Crab-fest is a major event here on Andros and it makes a lot of money for those without any. If you missed the Crabfest blog entry go back to the entries in June and I am sure you'll find them - quite the event. However, today we experienced on better.
As we drove home from the first Confirmation Class in Cargill Creek, once again the road was lined with cars, just like during crab season - but this time everyone on the side of the road was carrying ---- a shotgun! Yes, a shotgun - car after car had men with shotguns, dogs, and little kids. It was the start of pigeon season and every now and then, as we drove by, someone would hoist their rifle to their shoulder - and blam - and the kids and the dogs would run into the bush to see who could get the downed bird first. Incredible.
So we survive this gauntlet and its late, we haven't taken anything out for supper, so Ginni says "Lets go to the Navy Base and see if we can get a pizza at the Lighthouse Pub". This is a burger and pizza place on the base that stays open after the Dining Hall has closed. So we go there and get the pizza and we start talking to a local who had just finished his shift and was there for the same reason we were. When we told him about the pigeon hunters out on the Queens Highway to Cargill Creek he said that last year they caused millions of dollars in damage because - when they shoot the pigeons, they shoot through the power lines, phone lines, and internet lines. So picture this, you're standing on one side of the road, a pigeon flies out of the tree on the other side and your birdshot brings it down - but when you shot it your birdshot also passed through the telephone wires hanging from phone pole to phone pole, taking out the phone and power service to Bowen Sound and all points north.
Ahhh Island life - ya gotta love it.
To start with, the only books we have are 10 years old. So last year we did JAN - MAY without books, pretty much using what books we had as guides for the topics to be covered, and creating our own curriculum week by week.
It worked well but we came to the decision we needed to upgrade the books we have. So using the web and talking to publishers of CCD materials we finally ordered about $800 in CCD books for our 50+ kids. A bit of a risk since only a third of them have signed up (last year we went from 32 to 57 kids three weeks after we started classes).
The other innovation besides getting new books was getting parents to volunteer to help teach. The Navy base has had some turnover so the number of families on base has dwindled to the point that the parents have all offered to teach their own children in a 'home schooling' model. St. John's numbers are manageable with the same two mothers who have offered to help. It is in Cargill Creek we needed help, and praise God the parents have come out of the woodwork. Four different couples will host classes in their homes, with each couple taking 5-6 children. Ginni and I will still teach the Confirmation class and will meet with the parent-teachers once a month for support. So - all in all it seems under control with our first classes all kicking off this week.
While preparing for this was time consuming the day to day issues we encounter here kept popping up. For example, here's a typical afternoon:
Mrs C drops by unannounced with her daughter. Mrs C. is in her 70s and her daughter about 40. Mrs. C cannot read or write and lives in a remote part of Behring Point, the most southern tip of Central Andros. So they come in, sit with Ginni and I, then Mrs. C says, "Faddah, no lights!" pretty much just like that.
Ginni and I look at each other, then at Mrs. C, and Ginni says, "Did they shut your power off?" and both Mrs C and her daughter nod and say an emphatic "Yes, Faddah". Now I should explain a bit about the electric company here. In prior blog entries I explained how we lost power without warning for weeks as they instituted rolling blackouts for 4-5 hours a day in the heat of August. They had lost a generator and its all they could do to get some power to you. My frustration with this situation lasting for weeks was evident when I started calling the TV station in Nassau, the utilities commission in Parliament, the corporate offices of the electric company on Nassau, and anybody else who would listen. It was horrible.
Mrs C's situation was simpler - she hadn't paid her bill. Now the electric company billing system is even more frutstrating. First, there isn't a billing system. Everyone knows that on the first of the month you should go to the electric company office and they'll tell you what you owe and you pay it. The electric company office is in Fresh Creek. Mrs. C is in Cargill Creek about a 40 minute ride. She has no car, and even if she did, she couldn't read the bill anyway. So - after some time had gone by, they cut her off.
I look at Mrs. C and ask, "Are you here because you want me to pay your electric bill?" Instant smiles, "Yes, Faddah - no lights, the Church will help, you pay Faddah." I look at Ginni, she looks at me, we both look at Mrs. C - "How much is your bill?" Mrs. C looks at her daughter and her daughter says, "$600 Faddah".
I took a deep breath and explained that the Church doesn't have that kind of money, we barely have enough to get by ourselves (actually we don't have enough to get by - the Archdiocese sends us a quarterly stipend to cover the shortfall). Our weekly collection from Cargill Creek is about $180 (and it takes about $60 in diesel fuel to fill the van).
We talked about the bill, what the minimum was that the electric company might take to turn on the power, what the daughter might be able to do to help. We talked about how to avoid this in the future (Mrs. C does get a small pension from the Gov) but she needs to get from Cargill Creek to Fresh Creek to pay the bill. While all this was going on another parishioner arrived for an appointment we had made to discuss a personal problem in her life.
So Ginni goes outside to talk with her, while I try to wrap up Mrs. C, promising to see what I could do and come to the daughter's house later that day. (My plan was not to pay the whole $600, but to dip into some of the US donations I'd been given by friends, family, and parishioners of St. Timothy's to help in our ministry here. With a bit from us, & a bit from the daughter, we'd get the power back on).
We spent the next hour counselling and praying with a very nice lady with a difficult family situation that was now impacting her job.
Then it was off to the bank, then to Mrs. C's daughter's house. I explained that this should be private, she shouldn't tell other parishioners her private affairs, and that they really needed to be paying the bill on time because I couldn't do this again (last thing I wanted was to become their bank, we simply can't help everyone every time). With the groundrules agreed to they thanked me again and again - then it was back to CCD books.
If you remember - back in June was Crab season. We have land crabs here on Andros and June is when they crawl out of their holes to be scooped up by the burlap bag full. During evening the roads are line with cars and the bush is full of people with bags and flashlights as they try to find all the crabs they can. Crab-fest is a major event here on Andros and it makes a lot of money for those without any. If you missed the Crabfest blog entry go back to the entries in June and I am sure you'll find them - quite the event. However, today we experienced on better.
As we drove home from the first Confirmation Class in Cargill Creek, once again the road was lined with cars, just like during crab season - but this time everyone on the side of the road was carrying ---- a shotgun! Yes, a shotgun - car after car had men with shotguns, dogs, and little kids. It was the start of pigeon season and every now and then, as we drove by, someone would hoist their rifle to their shoulder - and blam - and the kids and the dogs would run into the bush to see who could get the downed bird first. Incredible.
So we survive this gauntlet and its late, we haven't taken anything out for supper, so Ginni says "Lets go to the Navy Base and see if we can get a pizza at the Lighthouse Pub". This is a burger and pizza place on the base that stays open after the Dining Hall has closed. So we go there and get the pizza and we start talking to a local who had just finished his shift and was there for the same reason we were. When we told him about the pigeon hunters out on the Queens Highway to Cargill Creek he said that last year they caused millions of dollars in damage because - when they shoot the pigeons, they shoot through the power lines, phone lines, and internet lines. So picture this, you're standing on one side of the road, a pigeon flies out of the tree on the other side and your birdshot brings it down - but when you shot it your birdshot also passed through the telephone wires hanging from phone pole to phone pole, taking out the phone and power service to Bowen Sound and all points north.
Ahhh Island life - ya gotta love it.
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