Reason why we'll be home schooling #427

"(Teachers) are there to make sure that the kids are being appropriate."

-Mother of a middle school student at a campus in Florida where a handful of 13- and 14-year-olds are in trouble for having sex during class. If that's what teachers are for, then what about teaching? Transferring knowledge? Who does that?

Read the full story here.

It goes without saying that sex in the classroom is way high on the list of social reasons I would never send a child to public school. But when parents start saying things like this, it points to the utter brokenness of the system. Instead of, "They need to be better instructors," we now have, "They need to be better babysitters." I know some very dedicated teachers, and I respect their heartfelt efforts, but how can anyone have faith in a system that is so far off the mark that most schools cannot even get 20 percent of their students up to grade level in English?

Folks--and I may be preaching to the choir here, but so be it--home schooling is not just about keeping children out of the world, because I'm not even completely sure that's what kids need. They certainly don't need to see their classmates going at it in the back corner. But it might not hurt for kids to see what the world is like every now and then.

Home schooling these days is about providing quality instruction, and if anybody asks, that's what I tell them. Some children don't have the privilege of parents who will teach them at home, so I hope the public school system improves for their sake. But my kids will have that privilege.

Here we go again

Fire season. Santa Ana winds. Southwest Fallbrook and northeast Oceanside are threatened tonight by the advance of a wildfire that began on Camp Pendleton Monday afternoon. Dori and I drove out tonight around 10:45 p.m. Traffic was blocked off at Sleeping Indian Road, which I think is to guard the houses of evacuees from potential looters. These shots were taken from the northeast.

They're saying on the news that it'll get worse tonight, and maybe spread a little more tomorrow, but that conditions will be easing by Wednesday. We know at least two families whose homes are threatened.

What's more, I grew up watching this indian sleep, but I've never seen him on fire. R.I.P. Sleeping Indian.

Chengdu, part 2: the city

After getting run out of town up in the hills, Adam, our translator friend and I left early Sunday morning for Chengdu, the nearest large city and the location of the airport we were scheduled to leave from on Tuesday morning. We figured that, if there were any lingering hard feelings about what we were made to feel was an unwelcome intrusion, it would be more difficult to track us down and hassle us among the millions of people in Chengdu. So that's where we ended up for the rest of our stay.

I'm not going to lie--it was relaxing. Probably the most relaxing time I had in China this summer. (I'm home now, and readjusting to American life--driving and so on.) If you ever find yourself in Chengdu needing a place to lay your head, find a hostel called The Loft and take a shower. Check your e-mail. Sleep in. That's what we did. Here's a photographic sampling of the activities we participated in while sequestered in a city with far less foreigners than the other Chinese cities I visited this year. (We were stared at a lot in the city, as well as in the countryside. There were simply no other white guys around, other than the few French and Australian tourists we met at the hostel.)

This was what all the hallways looked like at The Loft, which was converted into a hostel from an old printing factory.

From the minute we checked in, all three of us were doing plenty of this:

And a little bit of this:

Pizza Hut was our first meal when we got back to the city. It was expensive (thanks, Adam), but it was so, so good.

Adam kept telling me about how the Chinese would visit the one-trip salad bar and come back with a bowl stacked about a foot tall with produce, all contained within walls of cucumbers stacked meticulously to bring back half the salad bar. He was upstairs at the produce buffet for about 15 minutes, then came back down with his cucumber tower halfway accomplished...

...then came the quote of the day: "I don't even like cucumbers," he said. "I hate cucumbers." Which, from a man who eats anything--and lots of it--only means he'd rather be eating copious amounts of something else, but cucumbers would do. He's such an easy-going guy, and a great brother. There is no one I'd have rather spent that particular weekend with. If you read this, Adam, thank you. You're the man.

After explaining what "hut" meant to our dear Chinese friend (I'm not naming him or showing him in any pictures because he's afraid of getting on the wrong side of the authorities), we felt a little sheepish about our language. At least I did. "Shack" was the best translation we could come up with, to which he repeated, "Pizza Shack?" Yeah, tell us about it. "Radio Hut" doesn't sound quite right, either. Neither pizza nor radios should be peddled out of crude shelters, in my opinion.

So here we were, feeling sheepish, wishing English made more sense, when we saw it.

Now, I hate poodles in the first place (sorry to any poodle lovers out there, and forgive me if this specimen is not truly a poodle). But poodles with orange eartips? I felt better about my language immediately. We saw many, many other interesting sights, and I wouldn't be surprised if a picture or two of Adam and I are floating around on some Chinese dude's blog. Folks were staring, snapping photos with their cell phones and generally making us feel like dogs with orange ears or something...

Turns out Chengdu is usually a touristy city--giant panda breeding grounds are nearby, and a travel agency located within our hostel was advertising trips to just about every place in China you would want to see besides the Olympic complex in Beijing. I think that must have been where all the foreigners were, because as I mentioned, we didn't see one outside of the hostel.

All in all, it was an amazing four days. Saturday, when we got to talk to earthquake survivors and hopefully cheer them up a bit, was definitely the best. But the rest of our time wasn't so bad either. (We also got mostly painful foot massages from a guy named Bob whose orientation, if you get my drift, was questionable.) It may sound like our time in the city was fruitless or frivolous, but remember that our good friend is an earthquake survivor. He'd been away at college when it hit, but his family has been devastated, and he spent the summer living in the refugee shelter. He's one of the estimated 15 million people left homeless by the quake, and I think Adam and I were able to encourage him a bit. In fact, I know we did, because he told us so repeatedly. Just hanging out with him was a privilege that I will not soon forget.

So that about says it for our adventure in Chengdu. I am extremely glad that we chose to go, and that God opened doors like he did. Please pray for our friend. Many of you know his name; even if you do not, our Father will know who you are talking about.

I have a few more things to say about the entire six-week trip, and as I catch up on my sleep and memories, I'll jot down a bit more in retrospect here. Thanks for reading, and for following our adventures in the Far East. It's been a pleasure to keep you in the loop.

The pinnacle of this summer

Part 2 of "Chengdu" is gonna have to wait, because last night... was... awesome! We took the five orphans with us for week six of camp here in Beijing to the Olympics, thanks to a former Olympian named Gary Morgan who's stayed involved with the U.S. side of things since he competed in '88. Gary helped us get 10 tickets to tonight's track and field competition--which included several huge final events such as the men's 100 meter hurdles, in which the U.S. took gold, silver and bronze. We also saw women's javelin, men's triple jump, and women's 400 meter. It all took place inside the Bird's Nest stadium, and it was every bit of the Olympic experience we'd been hoping for.

But the really cool stuff happened before we even set foot in the stadium. Gary rallied four 2008 U.S. Olympians, including three of the eight-man rowing team that won the bronze last week. Two of the guys brought their medals, and let me tell you, seeing Olympic medals hanging around the necks of orphans was out of this world. After everything I've seen and done this summer, that moment stood out as the highlight. That's the only way I can describe it. Here are a few photos from today.

I don't need to describe this one...

And here is a view of the aquatic center when everyone was leaving. It's opposite the stadium, and the two made an amazing spectacle all lit up at night.

Here's a good view of two of the largest things in Beijing: Bird's Nest Stadium and my beard, which hasn't been trimmed in more than a month and bears striking resemblance to a bird's nest...

I'll have more to write later as I continue to process what happened last night. This morning, we're leaving to watch some more Olympics with the little guys, then I'm coming home tomorrow. It's been an epic trip. Thanks for all your Thoughts and support.

There are no words to describe the last photo. I hope the sight hits you like it did me.

Chengdu, part 1: the hills

After a flight and a train ride over the last two days, I'm now in Beijing with David Bolt and Adam Neesby. We'll be attending a few Olympic events with the five orphans who are here for the sixth--and last--week of camp. One is standing at my elbow now as I type, pointing to the screen and asking me questions in Mandarin that he knows I couldn't possibly answer. They are so precious, and I'm glad to have this final opportunity to spend a few days with the children we came here to serve.

While I'll have more on the Olympics and Beijing sights later, I wanted to revisit Adam and my trip to Sichuan Province to visit a friend there. You might recall that Sichuan was where the 7.9-magnitude earthquake hit in May, killing tens of thousands of people and destroying even more homes and places of work. It was a huge tragedy, one which everyone in China seems to regard with the same kind of somber recollection that enters the American heart when it remembers Sept. 11, 2001.

First, I will post a few photos from the hills about two hours north of Chengdu, where we visited an earthquake refugee shelter but were promptly asked to leave. Because of the sensitive nature of our visit there, I can't post some of the best images, but I hope these will give you an idea of what the area was like (hint: it was beautiful).

There was a river flowing right by the camp. This photo shows scenery typical of what we were surrounded by during our brief stay in the mountains.

On Saturday afternoon, we took a rickshaw further up the mountain, via this road...

Then hiked up this path...

Past this flock of noisy geese...

To meet this man...

He was a tobacco farmer up on the hillside, and the walls and roof of his house were destroyed during the earthquake, along with his pig sty and chicken coop. You can imagine what kind of financial hardship this put on the 70-year-old farmer. We met dozens of good, sad people who had lost possessions, land, family members, and yet still found hospitality in their hearts for us. We were blessed over and over during the 16 or so hours we were in the foothills of the earthquake zone, and even though it was a crazy and sometimes nerve-wracking day, it was totally worth it to meet the valiant survivors of China's worst natural disaster in decades.

Next up: What we did after we had to leave the mountains.

Shanghai'd in Chengdu

So after a crazy 18 or so hours beginning yesterday morning, a good friend and I are staying in a hostel in the southern city of Chengdu. It's fairly close to the Himalayas, and to the epicenter of the earthquake that killed tens of thousands of Chinese people in May. I can't go into all that we've done in the past 36 hours, but suffice it to say that we didn't sleep where we thought we would last night because of pressure from local authorities. Yesterday was definitely one of the craziest days of my life.

But now we're here, this friend and I, with a little time to kill in Chengdu. We're totally safe now, because there's no reason we wouldn't be allowed to sightsee in this tourist-oriented city. It's pretty nice, the weather isn't too oppressive, and we've actually had a really relaxing time. We checked into a really nice little Danish-run place called "The Loft," which has comfortable, clean rooms and showers, among other luxuries.

While we've been here, there has been plenty of stimulating conversation. I can't upload any photos because I don't have my own computer, but Adam and I have been talking about a lot of different stuff. After dinner at Pizza Hut tonight, we walked to the nearest Kentucky Fried Chicken (that's right, we've only seen a handful of other foreigners, but they have Pizza Hut and KFC) for one of their coffee sundaes. While we were there, Adam continued a line of questioning about marriage that began earlier in the trip. We got to talking about how men and women think and operate differently, and I said, "Take multi-tasking, for example. Dori says women are good at it and men can't do it. To which I say, 'Huh?'"

That's just a little snippet of what it's been like. Even though some potentially heavy stuff was going down around us, God has kept the mood light and our friendship has grown really close. What a blessing to spend such an intense time with a good, strong friend and Brother.

I'll write more later, but I just wanted to get a brief update up about my continued adventures in the Far East. Next week: Beijing and the Olympics. Then home on Saturday. The countdown begins.

What I've been calling 'home'

Here are a few images of the curious campus known as "Sias International University" an hour outside Zhengzhou. It's where I've been for nearly two weeks, and where I'll leave from when I head to Beijing next Wednesday. It's also the site of Bring Me Hope's primary camp location, where there is one day of camp left before the 2008 season is officially over. I'll have more later on what I'm doing for the last week of my trip, but for now, here's where I've been staying.

This place is huge, and it has a lot of huge buildings. I don't know how else to explain it. There is also a ton of construction going on right now, apparently because the place isn't huge enough already. There's a lot of scaffolding that looks something like this:

And here is my home away from Starbucks. It's a restaurant directly below the fourth-story room where I'm staying with David Bolt and a bunch of other guys. It serves decent coffee, although ordering the correct type is not as easy as you'd think (apparently even the point-and-nod method does not work out here...).

Lastly, I'll leave you with a few photos from camp. This is the same water slide as last year, in case any of my long-term readers were wondering...

What we did in the Philippines, part 2: Manila

Once we returned to the capital from Bicol, we spent three more days with Justin and Erin, staying in their condo and seeing all the sights they see on a weekly basis. It was great to hang out with them again, and it was also very interesting to discover more of Manila. I thought it was a fascinating city.

Our flight from Bicol to Manila landed Friday afternoon. After cleaning up, we headed to a concert that Justin had purchased tickets for before we had arrived. I was excited to learn it was a Passion production, Passion being a U.S.-based ministry for college students that includes top names in Christian music such as Chris Tomlin and Matt Redman. We got to see Tomlin and another artist, Kristian Stanfill, and a guy named Louie Giglio spoke. It was just the spiritual refresher we both needed, even though Dori's camera was pick-pocketed afterwards. That little bit of spiritual warfare only worked for about fifteen minutes, and although we are still sad she lost her images from Nanchang through Bicol, it didn't dampen the amazing night of worship we enjoyed in Manila.

I didn't take my camera to the Passion show, but we took a few photos of our cool wristbands the next day. On one side they said, "Passion Manila," and on the other, "Passion Kuala Lumpur"--the next city they were taking the tour. We were to turn our wristbands inside out to remember to lift up the Malaysians on Sunday night.

We did a little bit of sightseeing over the weekend, including this Starbucks built into the wall of a 16th-Century district known as "Intramuros." More than 400 years ago, the Spanish built a walled city to keep out the hostile natives; in 2008, invaders from Seattle invite hostile coffee addicts into the very walls of the old walled city. (Despite my cynicism, I'll be the first to admit that it was pretty cool.)

One of the more interesting forms of transportation in Manila are the jeepnies (see my picture in a previous post of an ungodly-looking vehicle with a "Jamaica" sign on the front). They are like taxis, except that they have defined routes. Up to 19 people can be crammed in, and they usually are.

Being an intensely Catholic country, no visit to Manila would be complete without a stop in one of its venerable cathedrals. This one was dubbed a minor basilica by Pope John Paul II during his visit to the Philippines in January 1995.

This is the guy who holds the holy water:

After visiting the basilica, we headed over to Luneta Park, which just so happens to have been the site of the largest papal gathering ever--4 to 5 million people during John Paul II's 1995 visit, according to Wikipedia. Not to be outdone, Justin and Rowell lead a Bible study of about five to 10 homeless men every week in Luneta Park. It sounds small, but it's a good bet that no one else is doing what they do, and we were blessed to see a glimpse into Justin's heart for the homeless of Manila. Here is the small piece of real estate where they hold court once a week:

In keeping with the theme of this summer's travels in Asia, Dori and I were privileged to visit two unique but similar shelters on our last day in Manila: a government home for abused women and children, and a Catholic orphanage. At the government home, where Calvary Chapel Manila visits every Sunday after church, I was not allowed to take photos that showed the faces of the women and children staying there, out of fear that an abusive relative would be trying to locate them on the Internet. But I still got several wonderful shots.


The good people of Calvary Manila bring food, teach and play games at this home once a week; please lift them up as they endeavor to spread joy and hope among a group united by so many tragedies.


The last stop we made on Sunday was the Catholic orphanage where Jon lives. Jon is the 10-year-old orphan Justin and Erin are trying to adopt. He stays with them on the weekends, and they take him back to the the orphanage on Sunday. It was so much fun--but also heart-wrenching--to escort Jon and Erin to the orphanage, where about 20 boys greeted us with huge smiles. It didn't take long for the wrestling to commence.


Our time in the Philippines was so rich and powerful; we can't wait to return next year. We owe a big thank you to Justin and Erin for hosting us and showing us all the best parts of the beautiful country they now call home. Please remember them in your prayers, along with the amazing people they have moved across the globe to serve. We'll see you guys again soon.

What we did in the Philippines, part 1: Bicol

Dori and I arrived safely at the second Bring Me Hope camp in Zheng Zhou late last night, after 20 hours of traveling from Manila. We are settling in for the week, and the weather here is much more merciful than in Nanchang. Plus, the swimming pool is great--nice and cold, very clean, and indoor. I'll have more on that in a later post, but for now I wanted to rehash some of our adventures in the Philippines.

There's too much to fit into one post, so I'll split them up into our three-day trip to Bicol (I was mistakenly referring to Bicol as an island in previous posts; turns out it's a region of the Philippines that includes the two small islands we visited) and our last three days in Manila.

First of all, to give you an idea of where we had the privilege of spending three days of our lives, here is a typical view from the compound where we stayed:

The "Shekinah" is the larger of the two boats where we spent a good portion of our stay--we stalled twice in the middle of the ocean in the smaller one. There are no cars on the San Miguel and Cagraray islands; only boats like this one. On the bow stands Than, short for "Jonathan" and pronounced "Tawn." And, in the background, that is the 8,000-foot-tall Mt. Mayon, a perfectly shaped cone volcano that juts up out of the bay at Tabaco, the nearest city to where we were staying. Overall, the views here were overwhelming, as if one could not possibly take in all the beauty in a few short days.

Besides boats, the main mode of transportation is the human foot. We spent hours and hours walking to our various destinations on San Miguel Island. Typically, the scenery was so awe-inspiring that I actually enjoyed all the walking.

Next come the creatures--so various and exotic, the animals we encountered on the islands ranged from monkeys to water buffalo. Here are two of the monkeys that were kept in the compound's miniature zoo:

This one was mean, and that's all I have to say about him.

And here is what the front end of a water buffalo looks like (you don't want to see the back end):

She didn't really like having my camera in her face, so she stood up and I ran. They're domesticated, but there's still only so much taunting one water buffalo can take:

The islands were very fertile; farms and animals were everywhere the tropical foliage wasn't, and rice was one common crop we saw.

Lastly, I wanted to include this picture of a beautiful little girl I met at the Bible study we spent two hours walking to on our first day in the islands. She was so shy at first that it was difficult to get a picture of her, but right before I snapped this one she went and put a flower in her ear. She was still shy until the end, but as we walked over the hill away from her family's home, we could hear her shouting, "Bye-bye!" Such sweet people, those Filipinos. We miss them.

Beijing to Manila: night and day

After a semi-harrowing day of travel arrangements that began Sunday morning in Nanchang and ended last night in Manila (we had to buy my airfare to Manila in the Beijing airport on Monday morning, then I was on a different flight than Dori, then I had a strange layover in the southern China city of Xiamen just to go through an immigration checkpoint), we are now with Justin and Erin McDonald in The Philippines. What an amazing, enchanting place. Justin and I spent the morning exploring the part of Manila right around their condo, which is located on the eighth floor of a 22-story building. My love of cities was rekindled in this lively place filled with warm, friendly people. I can also see over almost everyone's head when we're in the train.

Needless to say, I've already taken hundreds of pictures here in Manila. Tonight, we'll ride the bus 12 hours south and ride a ferry to the island of Bicol, where Justin and Erin will eventually be living as missionaries. We will return on Friday, then head to a Chris Tomlin/Louie Giglio concert. After spending Saturday and Sunday checking out the city and hanging out with our long-lost Fallbrook comrades, we will fly back to China on Monday to continue our work with Bring Me Hope. Thanks for staying with us as we jet around Southeast Asia...

Here are some of the photos from last night and this morning.

Last night, after our arrival at the Manila airport, Justin and Erin picked us up and took us back to their condo. After dropping our stuff off, we headed around the corner for an amazing dinner of chicken inasal, which is basically barbecued chicken that's spread over garlic rice. It was surprisingly good.

And, of course, the hand-made sauce was key to our meal.

This is the view from the top of Justin and Erin's building.

And here is the view looking up from the street.

The train is super cheap to ride, and we rode it twice this morning on our way to a nearby mall and to get haircuts, which was also a great experience. Justin and I walked into a barbershop full of Filipinos with about a quarter-inch of hair apiece and asked for haircuts. It's the first time I've ever had my hair buzzed down to my scalp, but I still have my beard. After the buzz, my barber put no less than three different products on my head, wiped it down with a hot towel and rubbed my shoulders. The whole thing cost about $2.

There are regular taxis here, and then there are the "Jeepnies." I can't really explain them, so have a look for yourself:

Please continue to pray for us as we spend the next three days at Bicol. Traveling mercies and health, as usual, are still at the top of our list. But we also praise God that we have already had some sweet fellowship with Justin and Erin in the 18 hours we've been here. Until next time.