Author Archives: Aaron

Sunset Delivery on the Pacific

You know when you were little and you were so excited that it felt like you were weightless? Had a helicopter spotted me on Saturday night, they would have seen a young white male galloping as fast as my little legs could carry me across shore bank to get a better photo. Yulia was giving birth.

Well, that’s the name that Steven and Freddy gave her when I asked.

Initially, I was strolling across the beach adding more digital memories to my new pacific sunset obsession. I saw a young man wave his arms toward me. I speak Spanish, but not Spanish arm signals. I couldn’t figure out what he was saying. I guess I missed the 50 pound sea turtle eight feet in front of them making her way up the bank.

Freddy runs up to me and says, “Don’t go towards her, you’ll scare her off and she’ll go back into the ocean!”

He’s calm. I’m not. I’ve never in my life seen a sea turtle outside of Finding Nemo and there’s a behemoth of a sea creature slowly making her way up to deliver the eggs. As were standing there watching her, it’s then I ask the boys what her name was. They didn’t get the joke. So I explained, and assuredly Steven says, “Yulia.” I mean, I suppose it’s with a “Y” here. You find that a lot in Spanish. From Yenny to Yoseph. Seriously, I”m not yoking.

So Yulia is making her way up the beach and I want to get a better shot. I’m not sure who she’s going to let into the delivery room. Usually it’s just family and parents, and as a white dude fresh off the plane, I’m not sure she’s comfortable with me helping her with Lamaze breathing techniques.

I’ve got to get a better shot. And the boys scream at me to not let her see me, because if she does, she’ll scramble back to the water.

It’s then, that I returned to my glory days of the Ukrops 10K. I mean, I was never good at running 6.2 miles, or should I say, without a costume. When I was Ms. Pacman or pretending to release a curling stone for the RVA Curling Team I finished in 1st and 2nd respectively.

I’m sure those boys had never seen such a ridiculous looking gringo bound through the sunset setting sand making a wide arc as to not disturb the hallways of the labor and delivery ward of Gran Pacifica.

I perched up high on the bank and got some photos of Yulia carving out her nest with her enormous flippers. It was then when I realized that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Or Richmond, or Broadway, or most shockingly, I wasn’t in the Dominican Republic where I had called home the past two years.

I was on the pacific coast watching a sea turtle preparing the way for 50 or 60 or who knows how many little ones would be making the journey back to the sea in 40 days from the 20th of January.

She started dropping the little ones into their resting chamber; I knew because the boys were squealing and shouting at me to come closer.

They let me take one out to look at it. So beautiful next to the sky.

(Don’t worry, I put it back!)

I just sat there. Motionless. Watching Yulia do what she and the rest of her young mothers club do this time of year. She was huge, and didn’t look to be struggling. The boys said I should feel her shell. That it was as hard as armor. I really don’t remember one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles being female. April was the reporter, but now I know I’d write a petition to Splinter to consider Yulia. She would offer much needed grace and elegance to the quartet.

I felt so grounded to the Earth. To witness a sunset. To hang out with two local fisherman. To watch a sea turtle pretend like she didn’t mind the spectators. I looked up and I saw the stars of the sky.

Earth and Heaven and sand and the end of day, the beginning of a journey.

When Yulia was done, the boys thought it customary to return her to the water. I can’t imagine how depleted her strength was, nor how heavy she weighed. The boys squealed again under the weight. I was thinking, “Well, she’s probably a lot lighter now, you know?” They had to set her down to take a break. She kept moving toward the water. They picked her back up and set her back in the cool, calm ocean to take her back home. Steven collapsed in the wet sand.

I thanked my new friends for helping me with my first sea turtle birthing experience. I felt like I needed a cigar to celebrate the birth of 60ish sea turtlings.

I lingered for awhile. Then slowly walked back to the others. Just trying to take it all in.

. . .

How beautiful life can be, how majestic a turtle, a sunset and the sea.

“Feels Like Home” (Dec. ’12 Newsletter)

  hope_logo
 Aaron Roth – HOPE International – “Feels Like Home” – Dec. 2012

Hi family and friends, sorry this email about December is coming so late. I think we all get super busy during the holidays and for me I was also preparing to go to San Diego with Edify and then onto Nicaragua where I am now. I hope to send out my January newsletter about what we’re trying to do in Nicaragua before January finishes. Blessings, -Aaron

I had a whirlwind tour of the US during my 11 weeks back home. While I spent four weeks on the road in various parts of the country living out of suitcases, it was still nice to be back in the company of friends and family and to enjoy the cold. I’m still surprised we had a white Christmas back home in Broadway with my family. Our Christmas Eve service was almost cancelled due to weather, but we trudged on and made our way to the celebration on that cold, snowy December night. I’m sure the infant Savior of the world marveled at our arduous commute of 45 seconds (we live across the road.)

Dec-12-News-02On Christmas Day I called my Dominican family on Skype. I lived with them in their small home in a ghetto of Santo Domingo for a short bit when I first arrived to the DR, but had visited them every two or three weeks for the two years I spent in the DR. Talking with them on Skype brought back so many memories of my time in Santo Domingo, and though it had only been two months, it felt like a long time since I had been at home with them.

When someone asked me in Richmond where home was now, I tried to modify the common phrase with “Home is where my passport is, and I have no idea where I put it.”

In truth, I knew where my passport was, and when I had to pack for Nicaragua it was in the top-most part of my backpack, like always. But for me, the concept of “home” has been an odd one over the past few years.  I got used to living out of two backpacks, packing, unpacking, saying hello and goodbye so many times that it became much like the stamps on my passport. Show up, say the usual things, and you’ll be able to pass through to the next destination.

Dec-12-News-03It hasn’t bothered me though. When I made the decision three years ago to serve overseas, I knew that I was changing some things that would remain permanent. Having a stable “home” would be a temporary enjoyment and a future plan. What became home to me was a mission, and that’s where I put my focus.

I have kept a journal for 11 years, and much of what I wrote three years ago, consisted of trying to live into the “large arc” of my life story. That is, what did I want my life to be about when it was all said and done. Some things on that list were:

  • To do something that was more about others than it is about me.
  • To put my faith in Jesus into action.
  • To dedicate myself to something I believed in.

Dec-12-News-04I’ve written many times about my belief in the efficacy and strength of what we do in Edify, and what HOPE International does around the world. We have been helping people develop skills to provide more employment opportunities and income for their families, providing them the financial capital to get started, and sharing the hope of a loving God who believed that to redeem the brokenness of this world was worth sending his beloved Son to this earth. (I think it’s always important to point back to the real meaning of the holidays you know?)

More than ever I believe in this kind of economic development. Microfinance is a good thing, and it works.

I knew that the time I was in the States, I would be there temporarily, and in fact, I awaited the day where I could get back “home” – that is, where the mission is, to do good in the places that desperately need it. So when I arrived to the Edify training in San Diego, CA I knew that I was a few more steps closer to home. Seeing my good friends from the Dominican Republic, and the executive leadership that I have come to know over the past few years, was like walking back through a familiar door. These are the people I shared the mission with, anDec-12-News-05d those that I will continue working with this upcoming year.

A teammate asked me if I was worried about Nicaragua, and I said that as long as I had a clean, quiet place to sleep, I’d be fine. “That’s it?” They asked.

“Yeah, that’s usually it.” I responded.

Maybe now, I’ve developed the game plan for this kind of life. By no means am I perfect, but I’ve realized that as soon as I handle the few, crucial details I can focus on the bigger picture. And for me, this is working with Edify to see if we should enter Nicaragua, Honduras, and Peru and help to improve education for children in low economic areas, share the Gospel, and build more bridges out of poverty and into hope like we’ve been doing in Ghana, Rwanda and the Dominican Republic.

Upon arriving into Nicaragua, I was a bit overwhelmed. New culture, new city, new Spanish slang, and a new set of rules. When faced with so much stimuli it can be a bit shocking. I knew I had to keep it cool, because that’s on page one of the playbook. When we arrived to the house in Managua, Dec-12-News-06Nicaragua my host family showed me the room where I’d be staying. It’s separated from the house, has its own bathroom, and is clean.

Even though I’d never been here before, I had the sense that since this is part of the mission, and since this fits with the large story of my life, I knew that I was correct in saying:

“Feels like home.”

Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds!  Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? (Luke 12:22-26 NIV)

I pray that you are finding your way back to the home you are being called to.

Blessings,
-Aaron

aroth@edify.org
Skype: aprothwm05
Web: www.AaronRoth.net

“The Joy to Continue” (Nov. ’12 Newsletter)

HOPE International  edify_logo

 Aaron Roth – HOPE International – “The Joy to Continue” – Nov. 2012

 

 

It’s been just over six weeks since I left the Dominican Republic, and some part of me is still figuring out which country I’m actually in. After spending the past two years in a hot, humid climate, it’s more than the physical change that I’m trying to process. To think that I was able to spend my daily life with some of the most passionate and joyful people I have ever met, in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever lived, still astounds me and fills me with gratitude.

Thanksgiving has always been important in our family. A few years ago my cousin Andy commented about the nature of Thanksgiving having much less expectation than Christmas, “At Thanksgiving, you just Nov-12-News-02show up, and it delivers.” The last time I had sat at the family table was 2009, and I simply felt content to be there a week ago. To be around people that I loved, that loved me, and with whom I could share stories and crack jokes without having to fill in any back story or translate an unusual phrase was a blessing.

Maybe it’s odd to say this, but to me the best part of Thanksgiving is precisely when you’ve assembled that “perfect bite” on the fork, complete with turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and gravy fighting gravity. You take ready aim and as you anticipate the cornucopia of flavors just seconds from hitting a sea of taste buds, you see the rest of your family in various stages of meal-making, eagerly awaiting to dig into their plated constructions, eyes fixed on assembling their own perfect bite.

Nov-12-News-03That memory is full and recent, and I can still taste it.

But just six weeks ago, I spent much of my life around people who didn’t have enough to eat. I played with kids with bloated bellies from parasites, orange reddish hair from iron deficiency, and sores on their legs from bacteria that could be wiped away with medicine that costs a few bucks.

I don’t bring this up to make you or me feel guilty. We are blessed to be where we are and live how we live, and I believe the right and mature response is to make more room at our tables. Poverty is still a crushing reality for millions of people in this world, and indeed, probably a few minutes from where we live. Unfortunately though, it can be an “out of sight, out of mind” kind of thing, where as soon as the image disappears, so does our preoccupation with doing something about it.

Since I’ve been back, I’ve been concerning myself with trying to keep warm and getting all my ducks in a row for my next stage of life which includes Central America for eight months, and hopefully graduate school. What’s funny to me as I read these application essay questions about “a time in my life where I’ve been challenged” I’m a bit frustrated not over “what do I write about” but with “which story do I pick?”

Nov-12-News-04Questions like these, give me cause to think about how my experience over the past two and a half years might help make me a better candidate for the application committee. And certainly, if I get an interview, which would take place in Nicaragua or nearby Costa Rica, that would probably help my odds. But now I ask myself, “Is this why I did it? Did I do this for my resume, for my grad school application, for a great ‘life story.?’”

Many of the visitors to the Dominican Republic would comment on just how happy people were even though they were living in rudimentary or even ghetto-like areas. I would often hear the comment “They don’t have much, but they’re so happy!” Now, being back, it’s even stranger to think about that contrast in respect to our modern day life with that of a developed nation. I suppose we could say, “We have so much, and we still aren’t happy!” (Sounds weirder doesn’t it?) I would suggest that even with our piles of things, and credit card debts to fund them, we have trouble seeing that “things” still don’t make us content, like solid relationships with people we care about.

What I think we see behind the façade of material poverty are people who live more connected to each other. They have to. They have no choice. Poverty does not allow for separate bedrooms, individual computers, or text messaged reminders to sit down at the table. Consequently, relationships are stronger, people deal with conflict, because they have to, and something honest and pure emerges Nov-12-News-05when people find a true source of happiness.

Joy.

It’s such a small word. It can get lost behind the big words of materialism or self-actualization. It’s so miniscule, but if you’ve ever seen it, if you’ve ever felt it, if you’ve ever tasted it at Thanksgiving because you were just so happy to be home with the loving people who raised you to be the person you are today, you’ll know exactly what it is. Joy carries a tremendous significance that is worth giving up the pursuit of things in the modern day race to the top.

Even experiences or hobbies, accomplishments or current positions in an organization can fall into the category of “things.” Where if we buy and show off what we’ve got, we’ll be happier overall. I mean, look at my previous question about what being abroad could do for me professionally, and what I really experienced over the past two years. It’s like I can separate “career moves” into two categories.

I look ahead to six weeks from now when I’ll begin a new assignment. One that will bring great challenge, and one that will test my strength and my commitment to what I believe. I think it would be silly to say that I’m Nov-12-News-05going to beef up my resume or grad school application in Nicaragua and Honduras to help Edify build up and empower small, affordable schools. Truly doing something good in life is worth more than a few lines on a piece of paper.

Maybe it’s a fear of inadequacy that makes us tirelessly climb the corporate ladder, speed up just because everyone else is speeding, or fixate on the the huge advertisements to keep up with the Joneses that diverts us from a true destination as we travel. I’ve learned that sometimes the best destinations on the highway are pointed to not with the most audacious lettering but often by meager, modest signs.

Joy is something so tiny, so pure, so innocent that once it makes an appearance its little light can destroy what once were monstrous distractions. You’ve seen it before haven’t you? In your kids, and in your spouse, in your family, in a job well-labored and well worth it, in a celebration of what is good and right, in a victory that comes after months or years of struggle and despair. I think when we see true joy we throw off all that slows us down.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,  fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1-2 NIV)”

I want to continue God’s work with our local brothers and sisters in Nicaragua and Honduras to help children receive a better education, helping to make a place at His Thanksgiving table for everyone.

That is the joy I want to taste and see.

I pray that you are able to see the things that distract you and steal your joy, and that the Lord would help throw off the things that hold you down.

Blessings to you and your family,

-Aaron

“One of the 10 Reasons I Started this Journey” (Oct. ’12 Newsletter)

 Hi everyone,

After almost two years in the Dominican Republic with HOPE International, I am now back in the States. My specific projects: working in community banking with Esperanza (the local microfinance institution), and working in the lending program to small, affordable Christian schools with Edify (a partner microfinance institution), have come to a close, but my journey isn’t over.

After many meetings, conversations, and prayer, I will continue serving in the area of Christian microfinance with Edify coming up in 2013 in Nicaragua and Honduras. I am hoping to dedicate the November newsletter to this next stage of my life so stay tuned for details, but for now, if you have been financially supporting me in the Dominican Republic, this remaining funds will transfer over automatically into my support fundraising for 2013. You are also welcome to close that support as of this month or the end of the year, but I will keep you on this monthly newsletter as I make the transition to serving in Central America.

On my last trip in the DR, I gave a small talk to an audience of HOPE International partners during our annual President’s Trip. I thought it’d be a fitting way to share my thoughts as I draw a significant chapter of my life to a close this month. See below.

(This is my prepared speech transcript for a talk I gave from this past weekend during a “TED Talks” session at the HOPE President’s Trip)

I used to tell people that there were about 10 reasons why I quit my corporate job in Marketing to go learn Spanish in Guatemala and volunteer with HOPE International here in the DR two and a half years ago. One of those reasons was so that I’d find something to write home about. It was kind of a sheepish way of saying, “I want to find some good writing material so that I can practice.” But let me tell you, it is a dangerous thing to open yourself up to a blank page especially when you’re giving the pen to the Lord.

Oct-12-News-02If you’re like me, then you like to read and write, and take pictures of your travels. You aim to have good stories, or at least a point of reference so that when people ask you, “So, what did you do in the DR?” You can provide them with answers such as: I went to these economically poor communities, met amazing entrepreneurs who live on $2-3 a day, served with some solid Christian leaders with the local lending partners Esperanza and Edify, and I visited some picturesque beaches and areas of natural beauty, some of which are displayed here.

Sometimes it can feel like we need to check a box, and don’t get me wrong, I believe in the power of using “checklists” in microlending, but I don’t feel like we should need to check a box when opening up our travel journal and conjuring up an episode of inspiration just so that we can tell people that we did something.

Oct-12-News-03Rather, the experience of opening yourself up to a blank page is something that can, and maybe should be, overwhelming. Through these two years that the Lord has guided me, I’ve realized is that even after thousands of written words, there are so many experiences that I’m still not fully able to write about. I’m not able to communicate the depth or the gravity of the feeling with words or pictures. These are things that have the power to move, to shift and to shape.

How can I explain to you, for example, what it’s like to have two Dominican brothers with whom I only speak Spanish. They love me like a brother even though I’m white, twice their size, and 23 years older than the youngest of the brothers, Josias. Having a family take me in and treat me like a son is an experience that I couldn’t even begin to write home about. It is a strange and beautiful thing. And that’s how most of my stories began.

Public Cars in Santo Domingo: The First of Several Hundred

For example, on my very first week in the country, I was uninitiated to the informal public transportation system in the capital, Santo Domingo. They have these “public cars” which run common bus routes throughout the city. You pay your fare, you squeeze into the car, and you yell at the driver when you want to get out. Simple and effective.

So I’m smashed in the back seat next to a heavy set Dominican, so close, I can’t really tell who’s sweating. I have no idea how in-car cash transactions work, but luckily my new neighbor, who I still have great trouble in understanding his accent is smashed up next to someone in the front and is going to help me out. He reaches his arm through his headrest and forms the number “two” with his hand, which means I guess I’m paying for him. I had some bills in my hand so I take out 100 peso bill, reach it Oct-12-News-04through the window on the outside. He grabs it from the outside of the car, makes the transaction with the driver (whose driving this beat up car at about 40 mph making change), hands the coins to the guy sitting in the middle on the gear shift box who then hands the change to my large seatmate next to me in the back.

Now, I’m stuck with heavy, sweat-laden coins in my left hand. I’ve got no room. Can’t flex my arms to put in my pocket. Just plain stuck. I realize, that this is how I have to sit for the next 10-15 minutes . . . and little did I know, this is what I’d be doing a few hundred times for the next two years of my life. 

The Multitude of Shoe Shiner Salesmen

Another side of Dominican culture that you’ll quickly discover is that men here always have nice shoes. Consequently everywhere you go in the city you can find shoe shiners. Well, one day as I was walking home from work I saw two young boys, probably ages six or seven carrying their shoe Oct-12-News-05shiner boxes toward me. With smiles on their faces, they were bouncing along headed up the street talking to each other, and the one closest to me approaches my path with a little bit of swagger.

He sees me looking at him, and yells up to me, “Hey American, give me five pesos!”

I respond to him, “No, I’m sorry little brother I . . .”

He interrupts me and looks up at me with a huge grin on his face, sticks his finger out and says, “Malo!” (You’re bad!)

He and his buddy laugh as they scamper off.

I thought to myself, “I really don’t think he’s going to make a lot of sales with that attitude.”

Contrast this with the experience with one young gentleman on the streets of San Cristobal. Ariberto (pictured below and to the left) shines shoes to earn money for his breakfast. He sat down next to me while I was waiting to get Oct-12-News-06picked up and asked me “Why are you here? What are you doing?”

From that point on, we talked about life and faith, and the fact that his dad has diabetes and can’t work. His mom works outside the home during the mornings, so he’s out on the streets shining shoes for money and to buy breakfast. He talked about how his life was hard and that he felt alone in his life. I asked him if he believed in God and if he thought God cared about what he did with his life. I shared more with him about how the Lord really cares about him and we know that because He sent His son Jesus to us to guide us, live among us, and be our way to enter Heaven. He agreed and then smiled and I urged him to keep praying. After a short silence, I said to him, “Well, my shoes could use a shine.”

The 65 Year-Old Entrepreneur

Just last week, I got to hang out with one of my favorite people in the DR. Her name is Elena and I first met her as she was running to the houses in her community to get members to show up for Esperanza’s presentation to the communiOct-12-News-07ty. Running! A 63 year-old Haitian woman running to tell the good news to her neighbors that Esperanza, “Hope,” had arrived.

I spoke with Elena back then and she told me that she helped to start nine banks of HOPE. She was so well-respected in the community that she was (and still is) a prominent leader in a large Haitian population in an area called Villa Mella. Now, Elena has three children of her own, but I can guarantee you that she is a mother to many more women that in her community.

So last week I caught up with her. She was in typical form. Carrying around her cell phone. This time with a charger. That should tell you how much she talks! Within a minute, she was on her phone again yelling at a friend of hers to repay back her debt to Esperanza. When she finally sat down, I returned to that same question I asked almost two years ago to get the math straight: how many banks she had helped to start. We counted together. From the nine there were 11 more, for a total of 20 banks. That’s about 300 people she’s helped to get loans. 300 women who trusted her, and believed in her.

Oct-12-News-08With her most recent loan she paid off a truck that she uses to buy coconuts from the country and sell them in the market. Her next purchase: land to grow the coconuts. Sixty-Five years old, 20 banks, and a new smile from a dental trip two weeks ago that gave her eight new teeth.

The Power of Story

See these are some of the stories I’ve written home about, but what I found was that I could never fully capture these moments in words, nor in pictures.

In truth, maybe they captured me. Because these stories aren’t just what I wrote about, they are what I am now.

 

After being jostled and crammed in hundreds of rides in Public Cars – I am more patient.
Hearing hundreds of shoe shiners pitches – I know when to listen.
Seeing true faith, passion, and dedication – I know who I want to be when I grow up.

Thank you for your time.

(end of speech)
———————————-

Stay tuned for next month’s newsletter on more of what I’ll be doing in 2013.

I pray that you would see how God is using your skills and abilities to be involved where you are in your home, your community, and your church.

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10 NIV)

Blessings to you and your family,

-Aaron

aroth@hopeinternational.org
S
kype: aprothwm05
Web: www.AaronRoth.net

“A New Stamp, A New Story” (Sept. ’12)

   Aaron Roth – HOPE International
“A New Stamp, A New Story
” – September 2012

 

 

After being on the island for nearly two years, I finally made the journey to
Sept-12-News-01

Haiti, and crossing the border into Jimaní, Haiti I received my first stamp in my new passport. It’s significant to me that the first stamp in my new passport represents the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. To me, it was a great challenge to travel to there, to go to a hard place, an uncomfortable place, and a very dangerous place. I believe that at our core, the big decisions we make hold great significance, and we often mark our experiences with placeholders that help us remember how we arrived at those Sept-12-News-02decisions and what they really meant to us. This is one of the many things that this first stamp in the new passport means for me.* Let me explain . . .

Maybe some of you have been to Haiti, and have traveled there with relative ease, so hearing that I call the place dangerous may strike you as odd, especially knowing that I was only in Haiti for less than a week, but let’s be honest here, it’s not a destination for a weekend getaway. My purpose was to join a HOPE International trip to look at our savings groups we helped to start with Esperanza Internacional throughout the country.

I took the bus from Santo Domingo and after nine hours through strange and unfamiliar territory including a three hour stop at the border I finally made it to Port Au Prince. Arriving in the capital, I was happy to be outside, only to be greeted by a noisy street full of commerce, people yelling, and traffic zipping down the roadway. I didn’t have the slightest idea where I was, and neither of my cell phones worked. Still, I knew I had a small plan. Fortunately, after a short while, familiar faces showed up, Dan Williams, who speaks Creole, and Clint Barnes, also serving with HOPE arrived to the bus station. Sept-12-News-03After two years being on the other side of the island, and nine hours on a bus, I made it to my destination. This stamp* is for persistent courage.

From my arrival to the next four days, I had many wonderful experiences in Haiti. So often, we can get caught up in the stigma or label of a country or a people. We tend to associate Haiti with extreme poverty and general disorder. They haven’t recovered from the earthquake in 2010, and indeed even before the earthquake there was a tremendous lack of infrastructure. Sadly, there are people still living in tents in communities that look like tent cities. For awhile, the threat of cholera was spread all over the news as thousands of people had died from an easily preventable disease. But should we let an image like that define the entire state of the country, or its people? Threats to health and safety can be scary and overwhelming, and we can let the overrule other significant details.

What’s important to know though, is that there always has been, and still is, an incredible amount of beauty in the nature of the Haitian people and in their country. We cannot overlook the presence of wonderful things simply because of some negative stereotypes. Indeed, that became abundantly clear on a visit to a savings group in the small village of Sodo. We Sept-12-News-06felt like we were a world away from some of the chaos of the capital. Look at this picture here to the above and to the right, and realize that this is still Haiti. This stamp* is for modest tranquility.

A daughter of one of the leaders of a savings groups kept inching her way toward me as I was snapping pictures of the meeting. At first, she was extremely shy towards the camera. She hid behind the wall of her home, but as time went on, she not only loved seeing her picture on the camera, but to bring other people into the activity as well. It was clear she had a natural gift for leadership and an affinity for connecting people. Pretty soon, she had gathered by the side of her house almost every neighborhood kid in the local vicinity. She even helped me set up the groups. I appreciated her art direction, but more so the way she was able to persuade others with her smile. I asked her to smile for the camera, but she couldn’t keep a straight face! Neither could I. This stamp* is for infectious laughter.

As we began to hear the stories from two leaders displayed below, my picture of Haiti became brighter and brighter. These were two strong leaders. Men who were dedicated to their family, to their community, to their church. They exuded strength and determination, efficacy and pride. Sept-12-News-05When we asked them what were there desires for the savings group that HOPE and Esperanza helped them start, they asked for more educational materials. They asked for direction and wisdom. They asked for prayer. Ready and capable men. Men willing to accept responsibility and carry out the plans for something they believed in. This stamp* is for persevering honor.

We left Sodo on a high note, commenting on how kind and generous the local people were. As we were admiring the natural landscape leaving town, some of the locals asked us if we had seen their waterfall. “A waterfall?” We asked, stumped by such a suggestion (turns out, the name “Sodo” means “waterfall” in Creole). Making a u-turn we zipped back into town and following the directions and hand gestures we made our way to the top of a fairly large hill on one side of the community. They had set up a small entrance to guide visitors to the attraction. We jumped off the truck and sped down the newly constructed pathway to find the source of the sound of falling water, and we were overjoyed to find not just one, but two active waterfalls. This stamp* is for hidden beauty.

Sept-12-News-07I noticed that my view of Haiti and my preconceptions were fading away and new ones were being ushered forth like the morning sunrise. I was happy and refreshed to see so much goodness and light in a country that has had such a dark history. It was like hearing a song reach the bridge (the musical term for a transitional section taking the listeners into a the final chorus) and break into new verses, filled with hope, a joyous melody, and believe me, the Haitians are excellent singers!

Our final stop in our HOPE trip was to visit a small community outside the town of Belladare. There we were to visit a savings group that had been together for over a year and had enough deposits to make loans to members. I had to take a moment and think about what was happening. In the small outcropping of a large town that had no commercial banks, here was a group of committed believers that had been gathering together saving their monSept-12-News-09ey together and now loaning it to each other. It was an organic savings and loan organization. In the absence of structure and institution, here were individuals moving forward in their lives. This stamp* is for quiet, powerful growth.

When someone asks you whether you’d like to walk 15 minutes into town on a dimly, or non-lit road, to get some Haitian street food when you’re experiencing an extremely intense headache, verging migraine, what do you say? I said, “Heck yes.” I wouldn’t miss it, I couldn’t miss it. After coming this far, I wasn’t going to let a crushing pain behind my eyes stop me. A minute into the walk, the road turned eery and calm.

Houses looked like mirages with small candles lighting up their facade, and other pedestrians walked past us like Sept-12-News-08ghosts. We arrived to the center of the town among yet more ancient relics of a town that “once was” with its dilapidated castles reminding us of an earlier age. Inside the cavernous building, many Haitians could be heard laughing, singing and telling stories to their neighbors. Without light, there was still life. After getting food, our friend encouraged us to take motorcycles back to the guesthouse. Now that dark road back took on a new form as viewed from a single headlight. This stamp* is for every-ready adventure.

In my experience, it has been true that every time I come back to the States, I feel the culture shock. “Reverse culture shock” as it’s called, hits me harder than going to a foreign country, because when I go I expect everything to be strange, but not when I return. No, home is a familiar place, and it should feel familiar in the heart and in the head, and I never expected to feel the reverse shock upon crossing back into the Dominican Republic from Haiti. But I did.

Sept-12-News-10Traveling from the Haiti, a nation trying to make its way out of serious infrastructure problems, I was so surprised to achievements of modernity in the DR: stores, churches, paved roads, cars, and trucks and things that go; so much order and organization. I saw Dominicans; now friends and neighbors. I heard songs blasting through speakers; the latest hits eminating from car stereos. I smelled cooking food; and I knew just what I had longed to eat. This stamp* is for home sweet home.

Throughout my journey overseas the past two years, I know that God’s continued plan has been to redeem all that seems dark, broken, and disheartened. That was always His plan, and when He sent His son Jesus to this Earth, He brought the light of salvation to us, and showed us in living flesh that God wanted to put right all that was wrong through the sacrifice of His own son. He fulfilled a promise and brought hope to what seemed hopeless. Throughout my journey, I have had these consistent reminders that God has a way of breaking assumptions, preconceptions, and stereotypes. He did this in my journey, He did this for my experience Haiti, and I know He will continue to work to set things right. This stamp* is for redemption.

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12 NIV)

I pray you would see the New Light that shines forth and redeems the darkness. May God give you a reminder to carry with you on your journey.

Blessings to you and your family,

-Aaron

“Believe in What You Sell” – (August ’12)

   Aaron Roth – HOPE International – “Believe in What You Sell” – August 2012

Hi everyone, we had a successful day of business training for school owners last week even though Hurricane Isaac was picking up speed here in the Dominican. This upcoming weekend I’ll be heading to Haiti for the first time. Please pray for safety and our work there with the savings groups. Also, as a reminder, I’m planning to stay here in the DR until October 11th to help out with a HOPE event here before returning to the States this fall. Do please continue to support me through the fall if you feel led.

It’s easy to sell something that you believe in.

If you’ve ever had an experience selling, whether it’s lemonade from your lemonade stand, magazine subscriptions door to door, or fundraising booths at a public event, you know you have had a lot more success when you truly believe the product you’re selling is good and people want it. On the other hand, when you have to peddle some sort of snake oil that you don’t believe in, sales are hard to come by. It’s just a simple rule of business and of life.

Riding around on a motorcycle taxi through La Romana and San Pedro inviting school directors to our business training workshop was probably one of the easier sales calls I had to make in my life. For example, I would show up with a letter of invitation, and explain to the administration that they were invited to a four hour training Aug-12-News-03session led by a CPA with 15 years of experience working with small, affordable, private Christian schools. Immediately their faces showed interest and they were expecting the huge price to come next, but I continued on, explaining that with his financial advice, he would walk us through how to prepare an operational budget for the upcoming school year. We’d have coffee, drinks, and sandwiches. Best of all, it would be free.

You can imagine the look of disbelief on their faces when I mentioned the word “free.” Even more, I went on to say that we are doing a series on business trainings this upcoming fall covering areas of financial sustainability in our  Biblical business training curriculum. Part of our program with doing microlending to small, Christian schools in economically poor areas includes doing Biblical business training and teacher training using the AMO program: www.amoprogram.com

It was an easy sell. I was met with smiles and handshakes and a gracious disbelief of the free offer.  And then, on training day, we had 43 people attend from 26 schools.Aug-12-News-07

Success.

Maybe, if you’ve read my previous newsletters you think that this will be the point where I break in with the bad news. Well, don’t worry, there isn’t. Not even the rain of Tropical Storm Isaac stopped us. It was an amazing experience to see the good inputs turn into great results.

Katia from Centro Educativo Agape (God’s Love Education Center) said “I wish I had heard this information four years ago when I started my school.” Haidy from Colegio Paso a Paso (Step by Step School) expressed, “Now, this makes sense why my income has to stretch to cover the expenses at the end of the month, I should be charging 10-15% Aug-12-News-05more.” It was a simple recipe: quality material, easy to understand examples, relevant training for school leaders.

Economically, these are poor schools. They charge anywhere from $7 to $12 a month for students to attend and even to parents who struggle to afford this money, they pay it, because they know the alternative is unsatisfactory. Their children will be crammed into a room with 50 other students in the public school, and they won’t learn anything. No parent would want that for their child.

But for us, as an American organization, when we think about aiding this economic situation, to subsidize the education for these Dominican children would simply be ineffective and very expensive. It’s not feasible for us to fund the 6,600 public schools or the 4,200 private schools. We don’t have the money, but maybe more importantly, when we prevent local leaders like Katia or Haidy from being able to teach students from their own knowledge and skills, modeling good behavior and hard work, we prevent raising up local leaders, thereby limiting long term development and success. We do business training because we believe in local leaders to accomplish the role of education in the communities where they live.

Aug-12-News-04It really makes me think about a key point, through all of my mission work down here: It matters what we believe, it matters what we do, and what we dedicate ourselves to.

When we try to build up our own success, that’s a small victory. But when we turn and seek out these educators, leaders, and entrepreneurs, and partner with them, they win, their teachers win, their students win, the whole community wins and so do we. When we believe that there are 43 leaders who can educate their children well, it will change what we say and the confidence we feel when we ride around La Romana and San Pedro inviting schools to a business training. I believed, and they believed as well.

Aug-12-News-06For me, I gave up a lot to be here in the Dominican Republic to serve with HOPE International and Esperanza International. I don’t make a salary here. I have been supported by my church, friends, and family. They believed in what I was doing because I believed in it myself.

This is still what I believe in. I believe that those affected by economic poverty deserve an opportunity to climb up and out of the depths of financial despair, and I believe fundamentally that there are better ways of doing economic development. Here at HOPE, we believe that to ensure long-term success, we have to give a hand up, not a handout. When you give people the right tools, when you partner with them in the right way, when you believe in the right things, you will see success far beyond what you could have ever anticipated.

He replied, “. . . I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20)

I pray that you will believe what is good and true and that you will speak boldly from what you believe.

Blessings to you and your family,
-Aaron

Passport, A Renewal – Part 1

A small part of the American dream sits patiently in an enormous waiting room of  high ceilings, six foot fans, and factory-style fluorescent tube lights. Lines swirl around the inside, and the outside, seats for the lucky or elderly, but no matter who you are, or when you arrive, all must pass through security. No cell phones, please. A noticed presence of aspiration and perspiration hangs in the air.

For non-citizens in the waiting room of the US Embassy, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, or at least, a once a year application maximum. Many people are dressed in their Sunday best, hoping for a positive first impression with the officer administering the visa interview. Forms stacked on forms, collated, stapled, and 2×2 photos done while you wait. It feels clinical. Like someone’s going to probe further into your inner ear, to listen in on your nervous chatter.

I wasn’t so nervous, no, this to me was not my last hope, nor my first step in making it to the New World; I was already a citizen. Along with Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness, one thing we extend to all foreign nationals interested in becoming citizens is the right to wait in line. In some ways, I missed the familiar bureaucracy, the silly red tape, and yes, the policies and procedures of controlling the masses.

As I stood in line for over 2 hours for an application drop-off of 5 min, I heard many conversations surrounding questions of history, questions of interview strategies, and plenty of answers to proposed destinations. It seemed to me, truly, that everyone had an American Dream. My dream amounted to hoping that the simple renewal of my passport would happen without a hitch as it’s set to expire one month from this week. Yikes. That simple crucial piece of  travel documents that you can’t leave home without. (As my uncle Lyle joked, “If you’ve got a credit card and a passport, you won’t have any problem getting anywhere.”)

I know, I should have gotten this passport thing done when I was home in the States this past year. Really, it’s just a simple “mail it and wait” process, but I wanted my new passport to come from the part of tremendous journey beginning more than two years ago where I set sail to learn Spanish, explore Latin America, and volunteer for a cause I believed in.

President Obama congratulating the new President Medina

In October, I’ll be saying goodbye to almost two years in the Dominican Republic. It’s been more than two years away from normal American life. In some ways I’m tired of living withing a paid job, tired of consistent cultural challenges, and tired of being “another gringo” walking around the commercial areas of Santo Domingo. It’s not that I want to unplug from expatriate life, it’s that I want to plug in to American life.

But as I look at the stamps  in my old passport, I’m filled with a sense of duty to carryout the mission I started. By no means do I want to call travel or serving overseas a closed chapter of my life, or a “I got it all out of my system” kind of thing. I don’t want it to be all said and done, because I don’t believe it is.

I left the embassy without a passport feeling confident that at least for my part of the process, I was finished. But I don’t want the feeling of adventure and exploration to end, and I know it won’t be.

I believe it’s just time for renewal.

Maybe then, that is what I hope for, and maybe it’s safe to stay, I still have an American dream.

 

“A Parachute for All” – (July ’12)

   Aaron Roth – HOPE International – “A Parachute for All” – July 2012

Hi everyone, this newsletter is about the Esperanza-Edify family camp we had in a school called “Colegio Bethesda” in La Romana, Dominican Republic in July. As I mentioned earlier, I’m planning to stay here in the DR until October 11th to help out with a HOPE event here before returning to the States this fall. Do please continue to support me through the fall if you feel led.

My first experience with a parachute, thankfully, was not when I had to jump out of a plane. My mother had found an old Army parachute at a yard sale, and my siblings and neighbors and I played with it for hours during a summer in the early ‘90’s. I distinctly remember talking with our resident engineer, my brother, how much time (in milliseconds) I would have to deploy the old, tattered, white parachute if I were to jump off the roof of our house. Luckily, our mother caught wind of our plans, and disabled access to the roof and scolded us enough to dissuade us from taking such a leap.

What was your first experience with a parachute? My guess it was some form of summer camp when you and your friends stretched out around the edges of the colorful fabric and breathed life into the beast as you launched beach balls, water balloons, or maybe, just maybe, some young, lucky aspiring July-12-News-02astronauts that your youth leaders deemed rugged enough to survive a few test orbit missions from your summer camp launch pad.

Two weeks ago was yet another reminder to me that kids are kids, and that all the children of the world, red and yellow, black and white, they are all precious in His sight.

In Microfinance, we don’t usually do summer camps for kids. We stress the importance in giving July-12-News-03people a hand up, not a hand out. We make loans to those who live in economic poverty to help them start sustainable businesses to help them improve their economic situation on their own.

In the partnership with Esperanza-Edify, we make loans to small, low-cost private schools to build more classrooms and computer labs; initiatives that increase a school’s income and improve the quality of teaching at an institution. We believe the best way to launch a child into success is with a solid education, but yes, for fun, on this particular occasion we did let the kids play with the parachute (but not physically launching them, don’t worry).

Colegio Bethesda is the economically poorest school of the 33 schools in our lending program in Esperanza-Edify. In the past 18 months we have lent over US $300,000 to projects relating to construction of new classrooms, infrastructure improvements, and computer labs. (Note: Microloans July-12-News-04are actively being paid back so that we can use this capital to lend to other schools. I love this aspect of how microfinance works!) We make loans with good interest rates and terms to projects that will help a school in providing a better education for the children of their community, and right now we have almost 7,000 children in our program of 33 schools.

Colegio Bethesda is a school that I’ve spoken about before in my newsletters and blogs; it’s a largely Haitian community, and this community is considered the economically poorest in La Romana, a large city in the east of the Dominican Republic. It’s a community where there is no regular access to water, July-12-News-08electricity, and just 2 months ago, they got their first paved road.

So to celebrate the progress over the past 12 months of Colegio Bethesda with Pastor Wisley Denis and his school administration team, and their three new classrooms they built from the loan we made last summer, we wanted to do something special. Something that we don’t normally do.

With the 90 students, their parents and their community, we brought a summer camp full of activities of arts & crafts, English classes, and games. Within HOPE, Esperanza, and Edify, when we find an appropriate project to assist a school in a manner that is more donation based, we try to do it in a July-12-News-04way that empowers the community, instead of just a group of Americans coming and giving away large gifts. Pastor Denis found workers from his congregation that wanted to make an impact in the school in the community. He was looking for parents and workers that were invested in the importance of education, so local Haitian workers from the community finished the three classrooms during the camp.

Pastor Wisley Denis said,

“We are all very excited about this summer camp. For these children, they know that other kids get to go to camp, but they know they could never go. They simply cannot afford it. By showing up, by being present here, we are showing them they deserve to be special.”

I was the leader of the older kids, “Los Campeones,” (The Champions), pictured in the yellow shirts in various pictures above. Like most older kids, they were reserved, and a bit timid, just waiting for an excuse to run off some of their energy. So we passed from English and then onto crafts and finally to recreation. The chance to run and play had finally arrived. They were desperate to blow off some steam.

July-12-News-07Sometimes I have a moment where it all clicks for me, and when I find myself in an economically poor community, with parents struggling to make ends meet, the temptation of drugs, prostitution and crime, the sickness, grief and the pain, the need and the desire of the innocent trying to just be children, and then comes something that just covers the entire situation with a new face, a new hope:

outstretched in the courtyard of the church was displayed the color-filled canvas pulled taut by the joyous hands of 30 screaming Haitian children.

How beautiful.

The photo I captured here to the right reminds me of the spirit of joy found in children, no matter where they are from, or what color their skin is. They all just want an opportunity to play.

I believe that children deserve access to good education, a teacher that encourages them and cares about their future, an administration that promotes values and discipline, adequate facilities that promote their development, and an opportunity for higher education. July-12-News-05

And there, under the parachute was a common ground, a place where we could all laugh at the majesty of the colors of our make-shift tent. We all fit, we all deserved to be there, we were all special in the way we were made.

Red and yellow, black and white, they are all precious in His sight.

I think most of the time in America, we worry about how much resources we have to make sure that all children are covered in the schools, lamenting that we only have room for so many. We cut programs that engender the creative prowess of our youth to make way for standardized tests and programs. Many times the kids that need it the most, don’t fit under the parachute, and sit against the wall . . . and learn that their only place is by the wall while the rest of the world gets to be underneath the glowing tent of colors.

I’ve got an idea, let’s find a way to make a bigger parachute.

Let’s find ways to make solid education available for more children and youth in our communities locally and internationally. It doesn’t have to be in a public school classroom, or a private school for that matter, it can take form in a church, even the courtyard of a church that’s covered in dirt and rocks. It just matters that we show up, that we make ourselves present, and that we make our youth know they too deserve to be there.  By making the investment in youth, we will see our communities grow and flourish, just like Colegio Bethesda in Villa Hermosa of La Romana.

“Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.” (Proverbs 22:6)

Blessings to you and your family,

-Aaron

Dance like Everyone’s Watching

This past Sunday night I went to an outdoor concert at the ruins of San Francisco in the Colonial Zone. From 6:00 – 10:00pm every Sunday, a group of Caribbean music professionals put on a free show for the local community. It’s a mix of Salsa, Merengue and once in a while, Bachata.

To the outsider, it’s cultural bliss. To the insider, just get there early, you don’t want to have to stand on the sidelines. So clearly, when my group of American friends and I showed up, there were no available chairs. No problem though, we found ourselves standing next to a wall. I couldn’t help but think we were the typical wallflowers, the foreigners who had not yet learned to dance like the locals. It felt a bit like 8th grade again.

I suppose one advantage to being on the outside is that you can see all that moves on the dance floor, and in one moment, we saw a beautiful young Dominican woman being spun around what appeared to be an older fella who didn’t seem to be moving all that much. My friend’s comment to my proposed criticism was that, “It’s not so much what you can see that’s important, it’s what’s you don’t see that makes the difference.”

On second inspection then, what appeared to be a grandpa who may have lost his way back to his seat, was instead a youthful, suave, Salsa dancing veteran decked out in red pants, red suspenders, a white shirt with accented red designs, and a red Kangol cap. If you know anything about dance, (or I suppose dating), it’s the man’s responsibility to make the lady look good. And did she!

The next song. Another woman. And one more after that. Now that we had better data, we realized that this guy was in high demand, and boy was he loving it. It was clear that he both danced like no one, and yet everyone was watching him.

He reminded me of Morrie, recounted in the book, “Tuesdays with Morrie” written by Mitch Albom

“He had always been a dancer, my old professor. The music didn’t matter. Rock and roll, big band, the blues. He loved them all. He would close his eyes and with a blissful smile begin to move to his own sense of rhythm. It wasn’t always pretty. But then, he didn’t worry about a partner. Morrie danced by himself.

He used to go to this church in Harvard Square every Wednesday night for something called “Dance Free.” They had flashing lights and booming speakers and Morrie would wander in among the mostly student crowd, wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants and a towel around his neck, and whatever music was playing, that’s the music to which he danced. He’d do the lindy to Jimi Hendrix. He twisted and twirled, he waved his arms like a conductor on amphetamines, until sweat was dripping down the middle of his back. No one there knew he was a prominent doctor of sociology, with years of experience as a college professor and several well-respected books. They just thought he was some old nut.

Once, he brought a tango tape and got them to play it over the speakers. Then he commandeered the floor, shooting back and forth like some hot Latin lover. When he finished, everyone applauded. He could have stayed in that moment forever.”

. . .

Well in our case, when our friend finally finished, he took off his red Kangol cap and bowed to the crowd. Hearty applause rang out. Applause to a guy who knows how to make the lady look good.

I need to take some dance lessons and get there earlier next Sunday. And if I’m gonna dance like everyone’s watching I know I need to make the lady look good.

Those Kinds of Burglars

Take a look at this picture. See anything? Anything missing?

 

It’s actually a picture of a ceiling inside the low-cost private school Colegio Paso a Paso (“Step by Step”) where someone stole the ceiling fan.

I was sweating, sitting in a chair in the office of director, Haidy Guerrero, when she lamented that she couldn’t turn the fan on for me. When I asked why, she pointed upwards and that’s when I took the photo.

A few weeks prior, some thieves broke into the school and removed the six ceiling fans inside the classrooms. At about $65 ( a weekly salary of an average worker),  that’s a $400 replacement fee that the school could not afford. I think about me, sitting there sweating, and then those kids next door, so disciplined, paying attention to their teachers, not minding the heat reverberating off the concrete block walls.

Come to think of it, most of the schools in the Esperanza-Edify programs don’t have ceiling fans in their rooms. The kids just deal with it. When students are paying less than US $10 a month to go to low-cost private school it doesn’t leave a lot of room for the administration to use their funds for things like air conditioning or even fans.

But if you think this is a violation of  national school policies, the public schools don’t have fans, and most of these kids will go back to a home that is built from concrete blocks, where one or two wall fans will cool of the five or eight members of their family.

It makes me wonder then, if these thieves broke into the school for the fans, did they install them in their own homes?

Probably not, they resold them for the cash. It’s hot in the Dominican Republic, and the demand for cool air is high.