Thursday, June 30, 2011

History Calls


Ok, don’t tell anyone, but we did spend a bit of time riding on an Interstate today.  It’s not what some might call, “legal,” so don’t let any law enforcement peeps in on our little secret.  We were perfectly safe, but still we won’t do it again. 

We spent most of the time on the Old Route 66.  For the simple fact that Route 66 is such a part of this country’s mythological history, the more time we spend on the road the more I feel like we are experiencing history.  For me, standing in the spot where Jackson and Lee had their last meeting before the Battle of Chancellorsville, where the Confederates of Pickett and Armistead and others stood before Pickett’s Charge, where the Boston Tea Party and Battle of Bunker Hill took place, and other historic events, generally bring me to tears. 

Before I go on with my reflections on riding this road, let me say a few things.  First of all, the reason I’m not writing on my reflections on the questions posed a few days ago is that we stopped here in Tucumcari, New Mexico at a Motel 6 and we need a code to get on the Internet.  After a hot and long day, I’m too lazy to go back to the office and get the code right now.  Most of the reflection is already in a draft on my blog, so instead I’m writing this and will copy and paste later.  Sorry about that.  But hey, this will still be good.

Also, as you might guess by my saying that we are now in New Mexico, another state has bit our dust.  This time it’s probably literally true because it is such a drought out here, and it’s already a desert anyway.  As we passed into New Mexico, we saw someone stop at the border to take a picture as they entered Texas.  Apparently we aren’t the only ones traveling to all new places.  We’ve also seen quite a few Longhorns, as expected, but still really cool seeing them up close and personal.  Not quite as cool seeing cactus but those have also crossed our visionary paths.  What else, what else?  Oh, we are now in the next time zone over as well.  So if you are used to reading this blog at a certain time, well, maybe push it back an hour to make sure it’s up.

Back to Route 66.  As we returned to Route 66 halfway through our ride today, it very shortly turned into dirt.  At that point we were certain that no one used the road much anymore.  We were already pretty sure, though, because a tour bus came down the road and turned around.  I guess they saw all that there was to see.  And also, all the buildings on the side of the road—restaurants, post office buildings, motels, cafes—had no glass on the windows, the roofs were collapsing, walls were missing, and grass was everywhere.  One of the buildings was kind of creepy because I could hear a piece of wood inside swaying back and forth, creaking as it did so.  Even after the dirt ended, we saw hardly anything except broken-down houses, barns, and other buildings that could have been motels or restaurants.  All of this, clearly, was once very popular.

What I’m saying is that we saw first-hand how human geography works.  Human geography is a class that I took in undergraduate school, and originally I thought, “Why don’t we just call it geography?”  Well, now I see why.  Humans have a giant impact on the environment, and our interactions with one another have a distinctive pattern that affects the world.  The construction of a new interstate made this historic road obsolete.  Thus all the businesses that were made successful because of Route 66 were also obsolete.  Now based on the new road, Route 40, different towns and different areas are target markets. 

I think about how fragile life is.  I don’t only mean fragile in the sense that I might fall off my bike and hit my head hard enough to crack it and I die in a fraction of a second (wow that is much more gruesome of an image than I meant it to be).  I mean that life is fragile in all its elements.  A person may work hard and put their entire savings into a business venture and then someone decides to move the road over a few miles, destroying the hard work of that person and also their life.  What might happen to that person after that disappointment?  Depression?  Suicide?  Alcoholism?  Child abuse?

Maybe I am being a little extreme, but I think it’s clear that our decisions affect others in very indirect but noticeable ways.  That person whose entire life fell apart in a failed business venture on Route 66 might have nowhere to turn but anger.  If they have children, that anger might boil to the surface as abuse, likely in the form of drunken outbursts.  And even if the person is still strong and remains optimistic, they might not be able to support a family, so a child would not be without reason to seek ways to find a better life any means possible.  Who would be responsible for that? 

First of all, I don’t like the word “responsibility.”  Every downturn in fortune for some reason requires blaming someone or finding who was responsible.  And every upturn places one person who is most visibly responsible on a pedestal.  If Rafael Nadal or Novak Djokivic win Wimbledon, we can’t think that they are the only one responsible for the achievement.  Similarly, if Andy Schleck or some other rider defeats Alberto Contador in the Tour de France, the entire team and management have a share in the achievement.  For everything, trying to find the person or persons responsible is almost impossible.  The chain of responsibility often extends far beyond what we’d like to admit.

With that said, I have to say that a whole lot of people would be responsible for the disaster that might befall the family of the failed Route 66 business venture.  It wouldn’t be out of the question to say that a child in that family might end up in some form of slavery.  So what I’m saying is that a whole lot of people would be “responsible” for enslaving a child from that family.  That’s not what we like to hear.  Not at all.  I personally can’t bear the thought. 

We really can have no knowledge of how far out our responsibility for things extends.  But what we can do is be more conscious of what we’re doing.  Think through every action that we make and what impact it might have and then make a choice instead of only thinking about what we want in the here and now.  Do that, and we can do a great good in the world.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Vega

I was going to start writing about my reflections on the question that I asked us all to consider of ourselves yesterday.  As I said, I would ask myself the questions as well and share some of my reflections.  But, I decided to play "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" on facebook first, and before I got that far I noticed that a good friend of mine from Wesley Theological Seminary, Joanna Marcy, had tagged me in a post that led me to an article from the New York Times that I absolutely must share.  So thank you endlessly, Joanna! 

With a change of plans, I needed to think of a new title for the post.  At first I thought, 'Well, I could make a joke about how we're in Vega, not Vegas,' and for whatever reason that led me to thinking about Street Fighter, the video game.  I guess that shows what I've spent most of my life doing.  In the game, Vega is the name of the villains.  He's actually a really interesting character so if you're looking for something to do, looking him up on Wikipedia or something might be worth wasting a few minutes on.  Maybe.  I bring him up partly because I secretly hope that Vega, Texas was named after him (obviously not, though, because Vega is part of the Historic Route 66, which we rode in on), and because when I researched him before writing I read something interesting.  Vega wears a mask in fights not to hide his identity but because he thinks he is incredibly beautiful and out of a narcissistic attempt to protect his beauty he wears the mask. 

I think it's interesting because how many of us are not comfortable enough with who we are that we pick out one thing that we think is beautiful in our life and make that prominent and hide everything else?  A great majority of us, if not all.  I also think it's a shame, and very often a reason why prostitutes do not run away from their pimps.  Many prostitutes find themselves thinking that life has nothing for them except their beauty.  Who can really blame them, then, when a pimp takes advantage?  If a person thinks beauty is all they have to offer they are at high risk.  I believe that for the same reason a person is at risk to become a pimp or trafficker.  If they become convinced that there's nothing going for them, who can blame them if they decide to find worth in destroying other people's sense of self-worth?  I don't know what to do with the Vega epidemic other than to put it out there for y'all to think about.

Now, onto letting others do the work.  Thanks to Joanna Marcy (if you want to give money to Wesley Seminary, it's highly likely that you might get to talk to her, she now works in the Development Office for the seminary.  She's a lovely person to talk to!) and the sometimes beneficial existence of facebook, I bring you this article from the New York Times by Nicholas Kristoff, originally published earlier this year in April.  Based on the title, I'd think it's safe for you to assume that the article is about Americans being caught in the greatest stain on our civilization.  I'd highly recommend the book referenced in this article for further reading as you, hopefully, enter the fight against human trafficking.  And for those of you who know the Bible, perhaps this article will remind you of Pharaoh in Exodus....


What About American Girls Sold on the Streets?

When we hear about human trafficking in India or Cambodia, our hearts melt. The victim has sometimes been kidnapped and imprisoned, even caged, in a way that conjures our images of slavery.
But in the United States we see girls all the time who have been trafficked — and our hearts harden. The problem is that these girls aren’t locked in cages. Rather, they’re often runaways out on the street wearing short skirts or busting out of low-cut tops, and many Americans perceive them not as trafficking victims but as miscreants who have chosen their way of life. So even when they’re 14 years old, we often arrest and prosecute them — even as the trafficker goes free.

In fact, human trafficking is more similar in America and Cambodia than we would like to admit. Teenage girls on American streets may appear to be selling sex voluntarily, but they’re often utterly controlled by violent pimps who take every penny they earn.

From johns to judges, Americans often suffer from a profound misunderstanding of how teenage prostitution actually works — and fail to appreciate that it’s one of our country’s biggest human rights problems. Fortunately, a terrific new book called “Girls Like Us,” by Rachel Lloyd, herself a trafficking survivor, illuminates the complexities of the sex industry.

Lloyd is British and the product of a troubled home. As a teenager, she dropped out of school and ended up working as a stripper and prostitute, controlled by a pimp whom she loved in a very complicated way — even though he beat her.

One of the most vexing questions people have is why teenage girls don’t run away more often from pimps who assault them and extract all the money they earn. Lloyd struggles to answer that question about her own past and about the girls she works with today. The answers have to do with lack of self-esteem and lack of alternatives, as well as terror of the pimp and a misplaced love for him.

Jocular references to pimps in popular songs or movies are baffling. They aren’t business partners of teenage girls; they are modern slave drivers. And pimping attracts criminals because it is lucrative and not particularly risky as criminal behavior goes: police arrest the girls, but don’t often go after the pimps. (In fairness, pimping is a tough crime to prove, partly because the star witness is often a girl with a string of prostitution arrests who leaves a poor impression on a jury.)

Eventually, Lloyd did escape her pimp after he nearly killed her, but starting over was tough, and she had trouble fitting in. When she showed up at church in a skirt she liked, four women separately came over to her pew with clothing to cover her legs.

“Apparently skirts need to be longer than your jacket,” she recalls. “Who knew?”

Then Lloyd came to the United States to begin working with troubled teenage girls — and found her calling. In 1998, at the age of 23, she founded GEMS, short for Girls Educational and Mentoring Services, a program for trafficked girls that has won human rights awards and helped pass a landmark anti-trafficking law in New York State. On the side, Lloyd earned a college degree and then a master’s, graduating summa cum laude.

Lloyd’s story is extraordinarily inspiring, as is the work she is doing. One of the girls she rescued from a pimp later graduated from high school as valedictorian. But Lloyd’s memoir is also important for the window it offers into trafficking in this country.

Americans often think that “trafficking” is about Mexican or Korean or Russian women smuggled into brothels in the United States. That happens. But in my years and years of reporting, I’ve found that the biggest trafficking problem involves homegrown American runaways.

Typically, she’s a 13-year-old girl of color from a troubled home who is on bad terms with her mother. Then her mom’s boyfriend hits on her, and she runs away to the bus station, where the only person on the lookout for girls like her is a pimp. He buys her dinner, gives her a place to stay and next thing she knows she’s earning him $1,500 a day.

Lloyd guides us through this world in an unsentimental way that rings pitch perfect with my own reporting. Above all, Lloyd always underscores that these girls aren’t criminals but victims, and she alternately oozes compassion and outrage. One girl she worked with was Nicolette, a 12-year-old in New York City who had a broken rib and burns from a hot iron, presumably from her pimp. Yet Nicolette was convicted of prostitution and sent to a juvenile detention center for a year to learn “moral principles.”

Our system has failed girls like her. The police and prosecutors should focus less on punishing 12-year-old girls and more on their pimps — and, yes, their johns. I hope that Lloyd’s important and compelling book will be a reminder that homegrown American girls are also trafficked, and they deserve sympathy and social services — not handcuffs and juvenile detention. 

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Me Against Me

I'm often very displeased when people think of Christian rock as Creed, Chris Tomlin, Switchfoot, Casting Crowns, Toby Mac, Relient K, or any other of the many similar bands.  While these bands produce music worth listening to, especially if you are "worshiping," but they are not Christian rock.  The Christian radio stations are generally referred to as Christian rock stations, but they don't play the real Christian rock bands like Project 86, Norma Jean, Falling Up, Flyleaf, Thousand Foot Krutch, Underoath, Seventh Day Slumber, or Since October (some of these bands, my favorite Project 86 included, may at times sound too hardcore or metal for your taste, but I definitely suggest that you check them all out if you're interested in listening to Christian music that isn't just the fluffy, "Our God is amazing," type stuff.  If you like any of these bands, I also suggest Killswitch Engage, though the jury is still out on whether or not they are "Christian"). As a result, a whole lot of good Christian music is ignored and simultaneously insulted by non-believers.  Sad times.  Clearly this is a topic that hits my heartstrings, but I won't take up more space with it; instead I point you to my posts from before we left on this trip (the week before May 19th) where I talk about slavery almost exclusively through the lends of Project 86.

I'm thinking about the status of Christian music and our attitudes toward it because I have been listening to Christian radio stations as much as possible on this trip.  I've done this to try and broaden my horizons in every way possible as we cross the country.  While I have noticed that some places run more Christian radio stations than others (in eastern Massachusetts where I'm from, I've failed for the past five years to find any Christian radio stations), I haven't really noticed a difference in the music played in different areas.  And so, yesterday, I had the chance to listen to a Chris Tomlin song that is really popular at the moment, "Our God."  (By the way, I should mention that nothing really happened today on our way to Amarillo except that I have a small leak in my front tire, which we think we've fixed with a patch kit.  The kevlar is still intact, so it should be fine as long as the patch holds.  In case the patch isn't enough, or if the kevlar isn't intact, then I do have a spare Gatorskin outer tube and a spare inner tube)  You'll remember that Chris Tomlin is one of the artists I listed above as definitely not Christian rock but everyone thinks it is and then everyone who likes rock music won't listen to any of the real stuff and we (the dreaded E word) evangelism opportunities.  Regardless, the lyrics in the song were powerful for this trip:

"If our God is for us, who could ever stop us?  And if our God is for us, what could stand against?"

Those are the words to the chorus of Tomlin's "Our God."  Hearing them over and over again you are wont to start thinking, 'Yeah, what can stop me/us?  God is powerful so if I believe, well, clearly everything will work out.'  Let's skip over the troublesome implication that if things don't work out then we must not be believing hard enough--it's worth talking about but I'm already rambling on.  In Haugen's book that I mentioned awhile ago that I've been reading and reflecting on during this trip, he makes similar arguments to Tomlin: God is good, God is love, God is on the side of justice and those who work for it, so if we believe in God and work for justice then we have a very powerful advocate.

If you believe in God, of the Christian or any other variety, then I hope that you take hope and confidence from this very common assertion.  From the beginning of our faiths we have proclaimed that God is indeed powerful and is indeed on the side of justice and those who work for it.  Even in the Christian Old Testament, the Jewish/Hebrew Bible, the God who can often be violent and unforgiving is ALWAYS angry at the unrighteous and left confused when His people, the Israelites, don't act justly for the poor and oppressed.  And when God gets angry, well, the Old Testament is one long witness to the power He has to change things.  So really, if you believe in God, you should not feel overwhelmed or overburdened by the scale and complexity of modern slavery.  If you believe, then you should also believe that you have the most powerful force ever conceived on your team playing quarterback ready to hit you with hailmary after hailmary.  The quarterback just needs some receivers.

If you don't believe in God, then most of what I just said is useless.  Well, not really, actually, because if you don't believe in God then I hope you'll have gained some of your unbelief from the likes of Feuerbach and Nietzsche (don't know what I'm referencing?  First, let me know because it'll make me feel good, then second, either look up a summary of their philosophies or ask me about them if you can't inference from what I'm saying) and believe that each individual human is in themselves very powerful.  If you don't believe in God, then I hope that on some level you think that religion holds us back from reaching our full potential (oh boy, am I really advocating this?  Absolutely, I don't think that faith in God and the attitude I'm here encouraging are in any way mutually exclusive), which means that the more we believe in ourselves the more we can accomplish. 

Moral of the story is, if we really put some thought and effort into ending modern slavery, what can stop us?  Either we believe that we have Almighty on our side or we should believe that we are extremely resourceful, clever, and strong individuals.  Whatever we believe, there shouldn't be anything that can stop a concentrated effort.  So again, who can stop us?  What can stand against?

Simple answer: we can stop ourselves.  The lyrics to the Project 86 song, "Me Against Me," are among my favorite lyrics of all-time.  The chorus to the song reads thusly:

"Grabbed hold my enemy's neck
And choked till he ceased
Blistered with disbelief I awoke dead
And when I awoke I couldn't believe it was me
All the time it was me"

All the time it was me.  More often than not the only thing that hinders us from ending injustices like poverty and slavery is ourselves.  People complain that they don't have enough money to the pay the bills let alone donate to a cause, yet they still buy new game systems, drive instead of carpooling or biking, buying new and too many clothes, partying on the weekends, etc.  People get frustrated, depressed, and all sorts of negative when they hear that there are 27 million slaves in the world, but when they hear that a little bit of their time and effort and money can go a long way they are often more concerned about working enough to pay for the new game systems, cards, new and too many clothes, and partying on the weekends, etc. 

The funny thing about Christian asceticism and discipline is that it's also very responsible, despite its bad reputation.  By not drinking alcohol, going green and riding a bike as often as possible, owning fewer and fewer clothes and also washing them less often, I actually save a lot of money that other people would have spent.  I don't mean to make myself out to be more of a hero than I actually am, if I am, but let's be honest with ourselves.  What's stopping us from making the world a better place?  Our own selfish, self-gratifying, self-absorbed desires.  For some it's laziness or an insurmountable pessimism; but many of us work hard and want to make the world a better place, and yet we don't because we are our own enemy without even realizing it.  We stand against ourselves. 

Instead of asking, "Who could ever stop us?" we should ask, "What can I do to overcome myself?"  I will be asking that question of myself over the next few days, and perhaps share with you some of the reflections, and so I hope that you will join me in asking the question.  In what ways am I my own enemy?  How am I, as my own enemy, hurting myself?  hurting or ignoring others?  What can I do to overcome myself and become a better person?  How can I reach my full potential?  What can I do to overcome myself and, in the process, help put an end to slavery?  What can I do to overcome myself? 

Monday, June 27, 2011

Presidential Mountains? Easy! (or) A Day in the Life of Florida

Thomas told me I should write about something that I forgot yesterday.  As I've mentioned, we have seen a great many trains keeping up our American industrial spirit.  But yesterday we saw something really cool.  A train was pulling along, with some other things, planes.  Yes, planes.  Not entire planes, obviously, or else the entire countryside would be annihilated.  But minus the wings and the engines and such, we saw some planes going to be built, perhaps.

Yesterday I told y'all how we have been following US 60 for a few days.  Today we continued to follow it, and I think tomorrow we will too.  While following the highway we've also been steadily gaining elevation (I think I mentioned that yesterday, too, but I just turned 24, can't expect me to remember things...).  According to the GPS we almost reached 3300 feet a number of times yesterday but then dropped before ever reaching that plateau.  We now rest at just above 3200 feet above sea elevation.  Thankfully we didn't have a whole lot of up and downs today.  Instead we climbed up a gradual uphill.

We hardly felt the elevation gain, though.  The temperature was supposed to reach 89 degrees by noon, but didn't.  At noon when we finished it was only 84 degrees.  With a bit of a crosswind the weather actually felt terrific.  Sometimes I actually felt cold, and other times I barely felt like I was sweating.  It was incredible.  And, of course, when you feel good you are able to bike a lot harder for a lot longer.  I also felt great because I had the opportunity to drop down a steady decline for about three miles that I did in a little less than six minutes.  That's the first time I've been able to reach those speeds for any significant amount of time since Michigan.

As we get higher and higher, I think about high much easier it would be to hike the Presidential Mountains in the Whites in New Hampshire.  The Presidentials are the ones that have broken down my knees, especially my left knee, to the point that I can no longer safely or confidently descend mountains (shame because I love hiking) and sometimes I struggle going down stairs if there are a lot of them or walking certain distances.  So now I feel as if the Presidentials are my rivals that I must defeat like Goku defeated Frieza (DragonBall Z reference).  Well, perhaps in some way I have defeated them now, or will soon.  We are steadily getting closer to the Rockies, and if I knew the topography of this country better I might say that we will gain elevation all the way to and through the Rockies of Arizona.  If that is true, then I will defeat the Presidentials on my bike.  But even so, my Cato has gotten me within 1000 feet of some of the Presidentials.  I think that counts as a victory because I could certainly hike 1000 feet... maybe.

Also, apparently, the state with a city called Panhandle (Texas) invited one of the states with a real panhandle (Florida) for a guest stay.  Tonight we are staying with Tampa's twin cousin, Pampa.  I probably wouldn't think of Pampa as Tampa's twin cousin (I realize, that doesn't even make sense) if we didn't travel through the city of Miami, Texas to get here.  Let's be clear, though, I don't know how these Texans get away with calling their Miami a city, with a population of 597.  From where I'm from I'm not even sure that would be called a village.  I'd probably call it an accidental gathering of people.

I really have nothing to say today about the purpose of this trip.  Well, I have plenty to say, but I'm choosing not to because I'm trying to entertain you a bit before we hit the homestretch.  I do want to say before I sign off that Texas is incredibly beautiful.  I only wish that the area we're in now weren't experiencing a drought.  The effects of the drought are clearly visible and it makes me sad when I see the beauty of the countryside.  The farmers here have only been able to salvage a fraction of their crops.  Other than that, beautiful.

Don't worry, I've got a great post all ready for tomorrow.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Give the Cows Some Shade!

I’m trying to remember the funny things that Robin would say to Batman when he saw something shocking.  “Holy something-or-other, Batman!”  I wish Robin were here right now to loudly exclaim that, so that I don’t have to say it and pay a copyright fee.  It is so incredibly hot.

For a few days now we’ve been following US Highway 60 (West, of course), and today that was the only road we were on from Seiling to Higgins, Texas.  Unfortunately we are not staying in Texas tonight, and alas, I cannot officially say that we’ve conquered another state.  The motel we made reservations with had overbooked themselves (if you want to boycott that motel for their rude behavior to your two favorite biking heroes, it’s called the Golden Spread Motel… but I doubt you’ll ever have a chance to boycott them).  We then had to backtrack fourteen miles (we just took the car) to Arnett, Oklahoma.  Of course, we only had to backtrack one mile to return to Oklahoma because Higgins is a border-town.  To make up for this heresy, we’ve decided to either start from here in the morning and then just drive the last fourteen miles when it’s the hottest out, or to drive the fourteen miles back to the Golden Spread and then start.  It really depends on when Thomas wakes up.

Anyway, the steep up and downs returned today (we’re up to 2600 feet above sea level, all from steep up and downs).  And the weather forecast was slightly off.  Over a 100 degrees by noon was correct, but the 75 degrees at 7 a.m…. way off.  I left the motel this morning in Seiling at 7 and a few minutes spied a bank’s sign telling me it was already 85 degrees.  Now, I don’t make the following remark about the area we are in, just about the weather: we are in a hell-hole.  The landscape is pretty in its own way but definitely reminds me of an African safari, and I can say that because I’ve been there.  Especially with the heat and birds with really long tails, definitely an African safari.  Yesterday the temperature in Seiling reached the highest it’s been on this trip, 109 degrees.  Today we set a new high for the temperature that we’ve actually biked in: 102 degrees.  Hell-hole.  The weather report that we saw on Friday told us that this area is experiencing a heat wave… hooray!  An already super hot area in the middle of summer experiencing of a heat wave, plus 60 or more miles of riding a day, what could be better?  Inconceivable! a certain really awesome film character might say.  Dating back to last Thursday and continuing until Tuesday, all the temperature forecasts for the towns that we are biking through were and are for potential or near record-highs.  Considering that we are in northwest Oklahoma and northwest Texas (funny that we went from one state’s northwest to another state’s northwest with nothing in between), I think it’s safe for me to once again say, Inconceivable!

In the past, when I would hear weather reports from New England or the somewhat hotter and more humid D.C., I would sit amazed at the over 100’s of the South.  Now that I’m here, it’s no longer my imagination telling me how amazing this is.  And now that I’m here, I’m starting to ask a lot of questions.  First of all, why do people choose to live here in this hell-hole for goodness sakes?  I don’t really mean that, I’m sure it’s a wonderful place to live if you don’t intend to be physically active during the day in the summer-time.  But, honestly, how do the Texas Rangers play baseball during the day here?  How do the Dallas Stars (should still be in Minnesota, but at least they have the Wild now), Phoenix Coyotes, San Jose Sharks, and Los Angelis Kings have hockey teams?  I mean, I understand that the ice is inside a cooled building and most of the games are played during the winter, but I’m still amazed that the ice doesn’t melt completely and cause a massive flood.  How does the grass not die?  In fact, how does that tumbleweed that I saw this morning not die?  For goodness sakes.  Most importantly, how do the poor cows survive?????? 

Some of the cows were resting in the shade, thank God.  But some cows had no shade to rest under.  The plot of land some of the cows are fenced into have no trees.  I’m not surprised there are few trees out here, but can’t the cows get some shade?!  I felt so bad as I biked past.  Apparently cows are unredeemably (that’s not a word, and doesn’t fit at all here, I abuse the right of poetic license) afraid of bikers.  One troop (herd) of cows ran away from me for about a minute.  They weren’t the smartest cows, they just ran parallel to me.  Still, those poor cows ran for an entire minute in this heat.  I didn’t even know cows could run!  (and my grandfather owns a farm, so I’m not totally ignorant of cows… the heat has clearly affected me, I’m using quite a bit of these parentheses)  How do those cows survive?  They’re eating dried out grass with no shade and their owner rightly doesn’t want to step outside and melt like the Wicked Witch.  Oh those poor cows.  For the love of God, give the cows some shade.

Thinking about the cows, and thinking about myself as the hot wind burned my face off, I reflected on the terrible conditions of factories in the 1800’s in the We’re-Civilized-I-Promise European West (that many illegal immigrants are still forced to work in today) that helped spark the Labor Movement.  Regulations were put in effect to limit the number of hours in a day someone could legally work, how many hours a week, how many days a week, and how old people needed to be.  In terms of what is lawful, this country really stepped up to the plate in the late 1800’s and the turn of the 20th century to make child-workers illegal and dangerous/dangerously hot working conditions equally unlawful. 

The only problem with this grand story is that we still frequently need use of a word that should have gone out of business long ago: sweatshops.  Thankfully a growing number of people are becoming aware of the “Made in” tag that helps alert us consumers to whether or not a product came from a sweatshop or not.  Clothing is usually the worst culprit (it’s an old question now but still very significant: do you wear clothes produced in a sweatshop?) but even my darling bike, Cato, had his frame built in Taiwan.  What does that mean?  Taiwan, India, and China are generally red flags, so am I riding a slave-produced bike to fight slavery?  I can’t honestly know, but at least I’m aware of the possibility.  And being aware of the possibility will make me more cautious if ever I buy a new bike; I’ll do the research to find a bike produced in respectable work conditions.  Though I do go shopping for clothes as little as possible (generally only a few new items every other year), I am clearly in need of as much self-examination and discipline as anyone else.  One thing remains certain: our financial choices make a giant difference in the marketplace, and we can help prevent the poorest of conditions just by making better choices.

Biking through the heat is bad.  Real bad.  I really did feel like my face was being burned off.  I probably shouldn’t say these things so our mothers don’t freak out, but we do have everything under control.  My real question isn’t about the cows, it’s about the people who are pushed to work in the hottest of places for no or little pay because they’ll be punished if they don’t.  If riding through this heat for a few hours could leave us feeling burnt, what would working in a sweatshop twelve or more hours a day for six or seven days a week do to a person?  And don’t think it’s just about sweatshops.  People in India, especially, are literally slaves because someone in their family took out a loan of maybe $1.00 with sky-high interest rates that are impossible to ever pay back except by labor, slave labor.  You think being a slave in India, like the African-Americans were in this country, wouldn’t be ridiculously hot day after day?  What about in the places in Africa that this type of slavery happens? 

Some people in India have ingeniously found a way out of their loan slavery.  At first, all the slaves pool their money together to give to one person to buy their way out.  That one person then finds a job to pay for another person’s freedom, then those two do the same for another person, then those three for another person, and so on.  It starts with a little bit… a little donation, perhaps…

I’m really at the point of begging you to believe me when I say it’s burning hot here and we’re biking through it.  I’m begging you to believe me so that you’ll think about the people that our consumer choices keep in slavery, in sweatshops, and the people in India, Africa, and elsewhere that your donation could help rescue.  Give the slaves some shade!

Friday, June 24, 2011

Taking a Sabbath

Holy curmedgeons it's hot down here!  We left extra early this morning to make sure that we didn't have to ride through much heat, but we still had about an hour and a half in 95 degree or hotter weather.  What made it worse is that wind unexpectedly came through and and slowed us down, as if the weather gods were trying to laugh at us sweat in the heat.  No matter, we are on a mission, and people on a mission always come through heroically.

After days like today I really thank God for the notion of a sabbath, which we will be taking tomorrow.  An unfortunate number of people are unable to take a sabbath on Sunday (or Saturday for Jews, or Friday for Muslims) because our society is too consumer-istic to systematically award a sabbath to all people.  Ironically, many of those people who are unable to take a sabbath on Sunday are pastors.  Yet one of the things I've learned in my two years of seminary, with one year interning at a church, is that it really shouldn't matter when we take a sabbath as long as we take one.  Sure, having a more universal sabbath develops a sense of community, but in general God wanted a sabbath guaranteed for our well-being.  Work hard during the week then take a day off from all form of work.

What an idea.  We too often think of a sabbath as an inconvenience because we have too much to do.  Or, if we are the type of people to not work on the weekends or on one day a week, we miss the real meaning of a sabbath by partying or wasting time.  Whether we believe in a god who "dictates" to us to take a sabbath or not, we should all make sure that we are taking one during the week.  With all the work that we do, with all the things that we stress out about, with all the pressures of this world, we need to take a day and refresh ourselves by taking a walk, remembering why we love the people that we love, reading a book that we have been looking forward to, or whatever it is that will refresh us with the breath of life. 

Sabbaths are important for all of us.  Taking a sabbath not only keeps us upbeat and full of life, but it helps prevent a feeling of being overwhelmed by all the unaccomplished dreams we have and all the mounting injustices.  Taking a sabbath is a discipline, I know.  It takes a lot of work to schedule into your week an entire day of doing no work of any kind, especially a day of doing no work that doesn't fly by so quickly that you go back to work feeling drained still.  But I believe that the more we learn to take a sabbath, the more likely we will be to find time to work at bringing love into the world.  The more rest we get, the more we will be able to work hard at what we most want to.

So I really look forward to the opportunities of sitting in a jacuzzi, swimming, and drinking my recovery powder with some rest.  I know that when I do things right, when I rest well and take a sabbath, that I'll once again be able to willingly get on my bike and continue on.  That's what we all need to.  Take a sabbath, and then join the fight with unknown energy.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

American Industry

The ride today was actually fairly easy.  53 miles from Caldwell, Kansas to Enid, Oklahoma.  Another state gets to eat our dust, although I'm somewhat sad about that because the little Country Inn that we stayed at last night was perhaps my favorite motel so far.  The owners' family was extremely nice, had lots of cats (I love cats!), and the room was surprisingly very nice for such a small town.  And the town center looked like an old, stereotypical Western town that you might expect to see in a Western film.  I absolutely loved it.  Yet, we had to move on, and within a few miles we had passed into Oklahoma.  Thankfully Oklahoma is indeed flat, so we had a nice easy day.  What made it nicer is that we were able to take one road all the way: US Highway 81/60.  No dirt roads or turns to worry us and slow us down today.

While watching some Wimbledon, reading some lead-up for the Tour de France, I'm writing this blog.  What I really want to do is sleep and rest, so I'm going to cut it short today (have you noticed that these posts have, in general, been getting shorter and shorter?).  But yesterday I thought a lot about all the industry of this country that we've been able to see at work.  Near the beginning of the trip I had the opportunity to have a plane spraying pesticide over a farm fly right over me.  It was fun only because the spray stopped as the plane crossed the street and passed over me.  We have certainly seen a lot of big-time agriculture across this vast country.  We've also seen dozens of trains pulling big loads (trucks, too, but they are less environmentally friendly, so I don't want to mention them), power plants and wind turbines and dams providing energy.  We have seen a lot, and a lot of what we have seen is of America hard at work.

Like our economy, my Cato is starting to show some serious signs of falling apart.  My kevlar tires are cracking; some gears aren't working properly; and I'm hearing noises that I've never heard before.  Many in this country are feeling the same way right now and with good reason.  But up until now the stories about American industry that made our country famous and powerful were only stories to me.  The industry that pulled us through World War II and the years beyond seemed mythical.  I've now seen that the country is still populated by hard-workers who know what it means to put their head down and get the job done. 

Yes, our country may be down on its luck right now.  Trust me, though, we are still the industrious people that our ancestors were.  Perhaps we have lost a bit of the spirit and fortitude of working hard, but I know that we all have it in us.  Take it from me, a person who has had life-long difficulty committing to anything for any significant period of time: we all have it in us to get on the road and just keep going no matter how long or painful the path.  The only thing we need to do is make the decision, and we will find that the rest will come to us because it's already in us. 

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Birds, Birds, Birds

After a couple of days down on my luck, I rode today back in form.  I felt good, my legs were pumping hard without a whole lot of grimacing, and I managed to do more than half the 65 miles from Wichita to Caldwell, Kansas.  In fact, I even outdid myself a little, doing my 36 miles in just under 2 hours.  In the end, though, my performance today is only evidence of the teamwork that Thomas and I have developed over the past couple of weeks.  We are also getting a lot smarter on the road, too.  I don't mean safety wise, because we've always been safe clearly (of course, obviously).  I mean that we are smarter about when to push ourselves, measuring the length and grade of a hill, etc.  With a little over two weeks left of riding, we have a lot to be proud of.  But, as I've been saying throughout this blog including yesterday, we would certainly be wrong to let pride of our accomplishments get in the way of actually finishing out the trip or thinking that all of our difficulties are long past.

Massive change of topic with no transition (my English professors would kill me!)... One of my favorite lines in all of literature/film are from the mouth of Hamlet, "Words, words, words!"  What's beautiful about the line is, a) it provides a wonderful acting moment, like Kenneth Branagh's performance in his self-directed film; b) it professes Hamlet's fascination with words because, indeed, words and language are incredibly interesting; c) in one quick moment Hamlet exposes the lies hidden beneath words.  I thought of the line today as we rode by a number of birds that I've never seen before.  I had a similar enjoyable experience in South Africa.  God's creations are so diverse and unique and beautiful that I am often absolutely stunned by the winged-exquisiteness.  Birds, birds, birds.  Incredible and beautiful.

I suppose that's the problem, though, with humans.  The human body is truly amazing.  Part of our blessing is that we are both incredible and beautiful, very beautiful.  Beauty is unfortunately too often taken advantage of and loved for all the wrong reasons.  And so, unfortunately, things like this happen:

A 36-year-old Rogers Park man was charged with involuntary servitude Sunday after he allegedly trapped a mentally disabled woman in his car and forced her into prostitution for four days.

Charles Nelson, who lives on the 1700 block of West Albion Street, reportedly picked up a 20-year-old Crystal Lake woman on June 6 and proceeded to hold her hostage in his car for four days without food or water while making her perform acts of prostitution with suburban men. The woman, who is mentally handicapped and has the mind of a 12-year-old, had been in the city visiting a friend.

The Chicago Sun-Times reports that the woman was finally freed from Nelson's control when she was able to access her cell phone and call her father, who in turn contacted the police.

According to court records, an individual who witnessed the woman being picked up had originally offered her a bus pass to escape but Nelson took it from her and said she would never be able to leave.

He was arrested in an alley in the city's Austin neighborhood on June 10, according to the Chicago Tribune.

That is reported from the Chicago Tribune, and it is clearly the lowest of the low.  Too many people in too many places, even in this country, value beauty for the wrong reasons.  Think about it: most Americans rarely use the word, "beautiful," anymore.  We've replaced it with, "sexy," "hot," "smoking," and other synonyms for fire.  If we think of beauty in this way then our fire will not only consume others in slavery but will also consume our own selves in a pit of misery.

Instead of letting our words lie, let's examine our hearts.  One beautiful and fascinating thing about words is that they speak to us what is inside of our soul.  So pay attention to what you're saying, what you're doing, how you're living, where the things you buy come from, and all of that.  You have the power to either see the true beauty of human life or to claim to see beauty while actually destroying it.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Finally Flat

Well, Kansas is finally flat. Waited long enough for it.  Despite yet another day of heavy wind, our legs felt much better pedaling through it.  The fact that it wasn't straight in our face today helped.  Still, I need some flat, windless days to recover before we get to Arizona where the heat and the mountains will probably destroy me. 

Not a whole lot of adventure today riding the 95 miles from Emporia to Wichita other than losing a water bottle mysteriously.  By the way, from what little we've seen of Wichita so far, it is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen.  Unfortunately pictures don't really grasp the beauty of the place so even when I post pictures next you'll probably just have to take my word for it.  The most adventure we had was last night when we encountered the tornado warning.  I really have never seen anything quite like it in my life.  I did see a tornado off in the distance, but I didn't stick around outside to see if it officially touched down or not.  I got some video and I'll deem whether or not it's interesting enough to post, but for those of you who know me well you might be in for a treat when I return. Other than making me really happy for experiencing it, the storm did cool the place down significantly.  Big plus.

So, the major thing that I reflected on today is the fact that the fight is never over.  Yes, the hills of Kansas that everyone seemed to forget to tell us about are over... but even today we still faced the prospect of 55 more miles or so.  Flat ground may feel easy, but having to still continuously pedal is very tiring.  You could be pedaling along feeling fine and then all of a sudden you realize that you're really tired and are not sure if you can continue.  Or, like what happened to me today, since you feel so great riding along you forget that you still need to hydrate, so somewhere in the middle of the ride you realize you've stopped sweating and need some water. 

This phenomenon of riding on flat ground feeling great but still tiring is what I'm talking about when I criticize the American sense of accomplishment.  In general, the things that we Americans have done in our history are rather incredible and praiseworthy.  The problem, though, is that we work hard, accomplish a task, and then consider the job done.  The Declaration of Independence did not free slaves; the work of William Wilberforce even did not free slaves (Wilberforce and the British Parliament prohibited the trading of slaves, which did eventually put an end to British-owned slaves); the Civil War, the Emancipation Proclamation, and Reconstruction did not in reality free slaves, still leaving room for Jim Crow laws and the like; and, apparently, the Civil Rights Movement did not free slaves, since this country is still a major contributor to the total of 27 million slaves. 

The major problem facing us today is not necessarily reducing the number of slaves in the world to, hopefully, zero.  Our major problem is developing an attitude of never-ending commitment to preventing the conditions that lead to slavery and an ever-watchful eye for future slave owners.  The job is not done when we reach flat ground.  Humans are still humans, things like the below, reported at Fox Memphis and e-mailed in the Polaris Weekly Pulse, will continue to happen if we are not consistently vigilant:


Step-Father Charged with Selling 14-Year Old for Sex

Published : Thursday, 09 Jun 2011, 1:05 PM CDT
MEMPHIS, Tenn. - Memphis Police have arrested a man accused of raping his 14-year old step-daughter and selling her as a prostitute.

Tuesday, officers patrolling a known area for prostitution on Lamar Avenue saw the teenage girl flagging down vehicles and stopped to question her. She told officers that she had been sexually assaulted by her step-father since March 2011, and that he had sold her for sex with unknown man for $45.

The victim also stated that the step-father, who lived with the victim and her mother in Covington, Tennessee, brought the young girl to Memphis after picking up an unknown man in Arkansas. She said they checked into a hotel, and both her step-father and the unknown man performed sex acts on her in the shower.

23-year old Justin Parson was taken into custody Wednesday and charged with Promoting Prostitution, Statutory Rape and Trafficking for Sexual Servitude. He is currently being held at the Shelby County Jail on $250,000 bond.

(I'm using this example because we passed by Tennessee without actually traveling through)