My "Old" Friend, Dennis LeBlanc, Reflects on his 2nd Trip

Preface to a Prelude ?!??!

Since Jo’c wouldn’t unlock “the ball and chain” he had me in during my stay in Georgetown until I promised on a case of Banks Beer to write something for the Blog (and I knew that I’d have a tough time getting through security at the airport in chains), I “happily” agreed to put something together about my three week experience (October 18 to November 8) in Georgetown this year.

So I am dutifully writing now from my home in Greenfield, MA, a few days after my “21 hour ‘door to door’ “ excursion from Mercy Hospital to Franklin Street (via a taxi, four airports in 4 different countries, two bus rides, a subway, a two hour car ride and a whole lot of walking!).

Added to that, I left Guyana in shorts and sandals, only to arrive with everyone in Boston wearing winter coats, gloves and hats. . . with about a 60 degree difference between my early morning departure and my midnight arrival. So forgive me if I’m still not acclimated to the multitude of changes (weather, culture, values, etc.) in these few days that have passed since leaving a Third World country and returning to my plush and entitled surroundings (comparatively at least).

This is my second year going to Guyana, and I realized early on that I was having a “Good News / Bad News” set of feelings about my return. The “Good News” was that this year I knew what I was getting into and what to expect. The “Bad News” was that this year I knew what I was getting into and what to expect! That two-edged sword worked for me and against me, in this year’s experience, but I ended up trying to put aside all expectations, remembrances, and fears, and just accept this year’s challenge and opportunity on its own terms.

While in Guyana, I would write some reflections on my experiences and feelings in a journaling fashion. What now follows are some portions of those writings.

 MUSINGS OF A TIRED MIND:  Prelude  - October   2014          

Well the cool, colorful days of Autumn in New England once again this year find me in the tropical heat and humidity of Guyana, South America, just a few degrees north of the equator. Usually "up there" in Massachusetts, my system is being invigorated by crisp air; preparations are well underway for a swift change into the snow and frigid cold of winter; the wood is cut and stacked, and the evening fire in the fireplace sets the house aglow (figuratively speaking!).

Trying to beat the heat with my new friend, Sylvia, and old, Jo'c.
And see: I am the only one with a beer.

But here in Guyana, Autumn is just like Winter, which is just like Spring, which is just like . . . get the point. It is always the same -- and that "same" is HOT, 90+ degrees hot, with comparable humidity!! And anyone who knows me, knows at least two things early on ... I'm from Oregon, and I don't DO heat! I get cranky, miserable, and TIRED! 

So since heat is the perpetual state of affairs down here, you can imagine I'm a real joy to be around! Writing helps me keep me hovering at least on the fringes of sanity, so I will be doing that while here. It is both for therapeutic for me, but it also gives me a chance to share with others for whom I care, a part of this profound experience in this wonderful and challenging country of Guyana.

 

Nursing students at work.

More Bubble Therapy -PRN only

  Vignette for the day   "THE SECOND TIME "

 Coming for the first time last year, the novelty and newness was somewhat overwhelming--and so was the heat! From the climate and culture, to the values and customs; from the "monopoly money" system to the petrifying transportation options, I felt bombarded with a paradigm shift in living that was both exhilarating and exhausting. 

And I found my approach to getting through the three weeks here, kind of like the way I approach jogging or running---I focus on every painful step; the harder I work, the more resentful I feel about what I'm doing; the longer I go, the more I become obsessed with the "finish line " and count the time till it's over. "Enjoyment" is a sadistic concept that someone must have made up. Hey, I'm a "ball & stick" guy in sports...running is means to an end so I do it. Running by itself? Used to have a tee shirt that said it all: "I hate to run!" 

St Ann's Girls - All tired out -or maybe not.

This second time around, I can feel a visceral shift inside. It feels like I'm riding my bike on one of those 25 mile rides through the countryside of Western Mass. It is no less tiring and challenging than running, but my attention and attitude are totally different. When I ride, I ride with a focus and determination that both challenges my body, but also calms my mind. I enjoy the terrain and landscape, as well as my capacity to still be doing what I'm doing. At the end, when I come to the long, steep hill of Bank Row within a half mile of home, and the thought inevitably comes into my mind "you're legs won't take you up" ... my mantra supercedes that message with "yes, someday I will not be able to make it up --- but TODAY is NOT the day!"

My "ride" this second time around, has enabled me to focus differently. Even with the heat -- which the locals say is the hottest ever -- my approach has been not to fight a reality so much bigger than myself, and to surrender to its power with as little complaining as possible. Does it help me feel any cooler? Believe it or not, sometimes. 

 

 

Vignette for the day     "FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND"

I have walked the shores of many a beach over my almost seven decades now: from the Oregon sands to the East coast waters; along the Mediterranean in Israel and Egypt; and on the banks of a multitude of rivers, steams and lakes. And amidst all those sojourns and the many footprints I've made in the sands, not one remains.   In fact, not one lasted more than a brief moment in time. Impermanence is the nature of all things.

At times I have been presented with the argument that I should not be going so far away ---spending a lot of money, to a foreign land and culture...when there are so many problems, so many people in need right close to home. “You can (should) 'do good' in your own backyard", people have said.

But sometimes journeys are not that logical and pragmatic. And so has been the case for me coming to Guyana. It is more about a quest, a journey that is not about miles and geography.  It is about leaving the "land" of the familiar, the comfortable, and known, to risk exploring the unknown, the uncharted ways, the internal land of darkness.

At my age I just ...

Stretch String; the rest creaks.

Coming here is about "stretching" this Self of mine, to explore the inner terrain of my soul ... which can become soft and lazy when not pushed and prodded. The physical challenges of heat, filth, poverty, chaos that come with this stretching here, provide the context for the process of growing. I know that I have sat in the "comfortable pew" of life too long sometimes, and have needed a periodic jolt from the "normal " (which I've been seduced to believe is the only way to think, feel, believe, value, behave, live). 

I can forget that I live in a big, diverse, complex world, where not everyone looks, thinks, believes and behaves like me. Here, one walk down to the massive outdoor market is a vivid reminder of that. Amidst thousands of other shoppers, I am the only "white guy" to be seen ... and prancing around in shorts and a tee shirt, wearing sunglasses and a baseball hat! I now know differently how a person from India, China or Africa must feel as they stroll the streets of Greenfield in their native garb, needing to deal with the stares and comments of being "different".

Journeys serve many purposes. I know a part for me being here again is to acknowledge the little place that I occupy in this world and to keenly feel the impermanence of my good intentions, deeds -- and my life. To feel this even as I am being propelled by the words in Micah, "to seek justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God" (6:8).

That said, I have had no "agenda" here really. I just know that being in Guyana again this year is as much about helping myself as it is about helping others. It is about making a few "footprints in the sand", then glancing back to see they already have disappeared.  And I am at peace with that.

In the quiet moments and in the dark places of my journey in another land, I have come to feel that the words of T.S. Eliot ring ever so true for me: "We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring, will be to arrive where we started, and know that place for the first time".

Vignette for the day     "THE UNIVERSALITY OF PLAY"

 “Play is the highest form of research.” – Albert Einstein

    "It is a happy talent to know how to play.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Certain realities are not bound to a particular culture, geography, race, or age.       The one that was most evident in this year’s trip for me, was the persistent power and potential of play. Many a time I have been accused of “Not acting my age” and that phrase was usually intended as a “judgment” to prod me to follow Paul’s admonition in First Corinthians 13: “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became a man, I gave up childish ways.” Never having listened much to Paul anyway, I now wear my “childlike ways”, and my ability and desire to play, as a badge of honor! 

So this year I came “armed” and ready for play . . . with toys! A 20 ft. in diameter colorful parachute, bubble blowing solution and wands, bean bags and plastic rings for a tossing challenge, beach balls,  playful reading books, jump ropes, Frisbees, multi-colored pipe cleaners, glow sticks, etc., -- a full suitcase!

  

I used these tools at St. John Bosco Orphanage for Boys, at St. Ann’s Orphanage for Girls and with the nurses and staff at Mercy Hospital. The energy, fun and laughter that ensued were palpable and satisfying. I hope some of the pictures here will give you a sense of the playful spirit that emerged in these different settings, and that the happy faces of the many different ages will be a reminder of the restorative power of play.

Play unlocks the imagination, de-stresses our system, and opens us up to the wonder and awe of life. It helps satisfy our hunger for humor and laughter, and restores a sense of balance for us. But play is not just fun (though if it were that would be surely be enough). Play is the great equalizer. It breaks down the barriers of age, gender, social status, economic difference, and religious preference (or bias). Play inspires, it opens us up to the magical in life. It uses the wide range of our senses (touch, sight, sound, smell, taste), and gets us in touch with the holistic being that we are.

There is a particular tendency of dismiss the impulse to play for adults, by labeling it as unproductive and to even try to evoke a sense of guilt for those who dare challenge that taboo. But especially in the world of work, we need to restore a sense of BALANCE in our lives  . . . which was especially evident with the 2^nd year nursing students who are particularly stressed by the major exam facing them on November 25^th. It is not accidental that they “got into” the bubble blowing and parachute play with a hardy gusto that I believe reminded them that there is more to life than the serious, solemn and somber. The cognitive world is not the only world.

Showing the students
"You just put your lips together and blow..." 

So I confess to all of you that I had a great time playing and having fun with all the different people who were willing to join me in “letting our hair down” (or at least as much of it that remains for some of us!).

In that spirit, I end this Vignette with the words of George Bernard Shaw:

                   “We don’t stop playing because we grow old;

                             we grow old because we stop playing.”

EPILOGUE

I am grateful to so many people who have supported me on this journey and adventure to Guyana, and taken interest in the work (and play!) that’s being done there. I dare not start naming names for they are many . . . but I also feel compelled to mention two, without whom I would not be sharing all this with you. 

First, I want to thank my wife, Maggie, for her sacrifice, encouragement, interest, and support, not only during the three weeks that I was away but also the preparation time preceding the trip and the “decompression” time that has followed. Even when it has been hard to understand why I choose to do some things in life, she has trusted that “I need to do what I need to do” in my growing and exploration as a person. I continue to value that greatly.

As Jo'c taught me - You can't be cool
without an umbrella in your beer.

And finally, words of appreciation to Jo’c. Almost 50 years of friendship have now encompassed our lives. The changes have been many in our personal and professional lives, as well in our looks and abilities to get around in these aging bodies of ours. But the “red thread” that runs through that half century for me, is one of gratitude and admiration for this friend that has seen me through many seasons of my life and has constantly challenge me to “think outside the box” and take risks to do the right thing.

Without both of these people, I would have had a great void in my life. Thanks for filling it with your friendship and love.

Blessings to all,

Dennis     (aka, Rev. 2)

Thanks for coming down and being you. Jo'c [Rev. 1]

and saying all those nice words about me, but it didn't seem quite long enough!