Got any ID?

     It was nearly 9 pm on Friday when Andy and I managed to sneak away and hit up Asha's Culture Kitchen, a quaint restaurant and bar down by the sea.  There were a few groups of diners there but the real reason we came--drumming.  Tonight a friend and an acquaintance were here (along with a little help from Andy) to whoo us with their high energy West African/Creole rhythms.  Emmeth Young and his friend Boombay, originally hale from Gales Point, Belize--a small lagoon-side village about 35 miles south of Belize City.  Gales Point is a creole village and Emmeth has been playing it's rhythms on various handmade drums ever since he was a young boy.  He's good; arguably one of the best drummers in Belize (and likely beyond).   Our friend Emmeth made his way down here with his family 2 years ago and has called the Punta Gorda area home ever since.

L to R:  Andy, Emmeth, and Boombay playing the rhythms

     I've had the privilege of hearing Emmeth play dozens of times over the past 13 months, many times he's played with my husband, some times solo, often times w/various tourists who'd like a "turn" at the drum, but what I remembered about Friday night is that the sound is taken to a whole new level when he plays with Boombay.  There's just an unmistakable energy when the sounds come rippling from the head of the drum when these two Belizean Creole men play together.  It's a sound that tugs at my inner core and gets me excited--here I am, sitting in an ocean side bar, in Southern Belize, listening to some of the most amazing, authentic drumming in the world.  That's pretty awesome.
     The interesting thing is that it's not just the drumming itself that I love so much.  And after it being some months since I'd last heard Emmeth and Boombay playing together, it suddenly dawned on me--it's the culture.  Emmeth doesn't just play the music, he owns it--the drums, the clothes, the food, the hair, the life style.  It's creole (with its West African undertones) right down to the core.
     One of my most favorite things about Belize is that it is a confetti mix of cultures here, yet not quite in the same way that the US is considered a melting pot.  Here, the people hold tight to the ways of their people, whether it be the Creoles, Garifunas, Mayans, Latinos, Indians, Mennonites or Chinese.  They all have their own foods, clothes, dress, and language.  In the small town of Punta Gorda alone, on any given day, one can find 8 different languages being spoken.

Garifuna girls dance and process with offertory gifts

     On the second Sunday of every month my church celebrates garifuna Mass.  It is bar none, my favorite time to attend mass here.  The Garifuna are a Black Carib people whose concentrations exist in just a handful of villages along the Central American Caribbean coast.  They too have their own clothing, language, food, and spirituality.  Somehow that culture is able to intertwine with Catholicism in a way that makes for a powerful and energizing Mass.  The drums beat and the choir sings and though I don't know the language myself, I feel moved when I sing along to their songs, I feel connected to both God and the people.  The entire congregation is united, pinkies clasped as we all sing and move to the words "Waguchi Bungiu, lidan sun fulasu,"  the first line of the Lord's Prayer--my all time favorite version of the Our Father ever. Though certainly not everyone in the congregation is a Garifuna, the ones that are can easily be spotted on Garifuna Sundays.  Sure many of them are wearing their traditional clothing, but it's more than that.  It's obvious to me when I observe them that they feel a certain connection and a pride as they recite the prayers and songs in Garifuna.  They move more passionately, they seem to listen more intently and it reverberates throughout the entire church.  The whole place just seems to feel more alive with the Spirit on those Sundays, and more connected to each other.
     It's that very same thing that gives Emmeth and Boombay a better sound I think--it's cultural identity.  Cultural pride is something that no one can take away from you--you'll always have it whether or not you are surrounded by others of the same culture.  It's always a part of someone and is a huge part of what makes people who they are (if they choose to hold on to it).  I love that about the people here.  The different cultures all co-exist and they all seem to thrive so well in Belize.  I suppose in some ways I am almost a bit envious of that.  I'm a typical American woman who is made up of such a varied mixture of backgrounds that I would say I have little, if any, cultural identity.  Most of all though, I enjoy seeing it alive in other people.  It's certainly one of the things that makes Belize so great and in some ways, I think it makes the melting pot of America pale in comparison.  Blending together can be a good thing but standing out, being a part of and belonging to something is what makes this such an amazing world we live in.  In a lot of ways, I think it's the heartbeat (or drum beat if you will) that beats in such a way that the the whole world can dance to the rhythm--from West Africa, to the Caribbean, to the Orient, to the highlands of South America--everyone is dancing to their unique dance.

Camp is great...when I'm not in charge

     Last week was the culmination of some of the busiest weeks that I have had since we've been here:  high energy days, working late into the night, and frequent last minute shopping trips.  But what else could be expected when I decided to take on running an art camp for over 75 children?
     Well really, it wasn't my decision at all.  You see, I've had a lot of seemingly great ideas since we've been in Belize and a few have taken off into full on projects.  There's one thing I've noticed with each and every one of my great ideas, they were mine and mine alone, I never consulted God in the matter, I just did what I thought was right.  Stubborn as I am it's taken me many months to really listen to what God has been trying to tell me all along.  "Although  your intentions may be good, they are not necessarily My intentions."  How often do we all do that?  We commence doing something or starting something new, without consulting God first, and yet we fully expect him to tag along for the ride.  What kind of friend or daughter am I when I do that?  Not a very good one that's for sure.  God has been giving me umpteen reminders to just stop and listen to Him first--to do His will not mine--because only He can really know what's best for me.  And finally, after reaching a point in my life where I've been completely broken down (Belize has not exactly been easy on me), I'm allowing him to build me back up because after all, God knows what's best for me and all He really wants is for me to listen and obey.
     Rewind about 8 weeks.  Our plan was in place for an end of July departure from Belize and yet I still had 2 tubs full of art supplies, just waiting to be used.  Then one day I got this idea:  what if I held an art camp after school got out?  I immediately shunned the idea, thinking that there was no way I could handle such a task.  Then the idea popped up more and more.  Over the next 2 weeks I began to think about it often but it was then I realized that there was no way something like this could work out unless it was something that God willed me to do.  So then I began to put it to prayer.  The more I prayed the more I heard nothing, absolutely nothing.  At times I would grow anxious, thinking that if this were something I was supposed to do then I was running out of time to plan.  I mentioned it to my husband and he suggested I go to Mass and pray about it there.  No way I said.  Weekday mass is at 6:30 a.m. and I am NOT a morning person.  So I kept praying and waiting...and waiting.  Still no answer.  As much as I wanted to start working on preparations I promised obedience and I tried ever so hard to trust, fully.  Then I tried to reason, "God I have not even woken up that early this week.  If you want me to go to Mass then you will just have to wake me up."  Sure enough, the very next day, my eyes peeked open,  I was suddenly wide awake.  I looked at the clock:  6:07 a.m.  Rats I thought, just enough time to get to Mass.  As much as I wanted to roll over and head back to bed I knew that I was awake for a reason and now was not the time to disobey.  I arrived at Mass just as it was beginning.  Within a few minutes the first reading began and I began to listen, "How long will you straddle the issue, if the Lord is God follow him, if Baal, follow him.  Lord...let it be known this day that you are God of Israel and I am your servant and have done all these things by your command.  Answer me Lord!  Answer me that this people may know that you Lord, are God, and that you have brought them back to their senses."  Of which God commences to make himself known to the people and alas they respond, "The Lord is God, The Lord is God!"  (1 Kgs 18:20-39)  Wow, I had straddled the issue for quite some time and all He wanted was for me to follow Him--to listen to Him.  The Responsorial Psalm of that day continues on to say "Keep me safe oh God; you are my hope.  You will show me the path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever."  (full inclusion is Psalm 16: 1b-2ab, 4, 5ab, 8 & 11)  I got the message loud and clear--all He wants of me is to wait on His timing and His Word and He will bless my actions in return.
     And so, with just 2 weeks before school let out, I began to plan for my first ever art camp--Camp Creative (yes I did just say 2 weeks).  Don't get me wrong, I wasn't always perfect in my planning.  That very same night I had the privilege of sleeping on the floor of the PG hospital tending to my 2 year old son who was recovering from a poisonous bite.  While it was a true blessing that he was healthy and recovering, I began to cry as I thought of all the planning still involved with the upcoming camp and the seemingly awkward timing of this incident.  And then I stopped and I remembered, if I continued to be obedient, God would continue to be in charge and all things would be taken care of.  This happened numerous times over the next several weeks--God provided us with a whopping 60 campers registered, access to extra materials would run into snags, volunteers had only stepped forward in small numbers, and the fees we were charging for camp did not cover our costs.  Of course I worked hard, very hard, to put the camp together (which could not have happened without my husband on my team as well) but as I continued to give it all up to God, the stress levels disappeared.    
     I've planned many elaborate events in the past, though none as large as a day camp.  I've got a knack for details and can often plan and rework things to work out just perfectly--you might say I've been a tad guilty of micromanaging.  This time, I really truly put God in charge and let Him worry about all the details.  On Monday morning, the first day of camp, I only knew for sure that there would be 2 volunteers to help corral at least 60 kids (I anticipated more would just show up that day), and was not sure that I could get all the supplies needed for both Thursday's and Friday's planned crafts.  And yet, I still didn't worry.  Not only did I know God was in charge, I let Him be in charge, and most importantly, I completely trusted.  And as the morning commenced volunteers began to arrive: teachers, parents, godparents, Sunday school teachers, along with a handful of teenagers.  All wanting to help.  We ended up with over a dozen volunteers, 80 registered campers, and the supplies to complete each and every project.  The children had an amazing time, parents came to tell us what an incredible experience this was for their children, kids begged us to hold a camp again next year.  After camp was over, we had enough supplies left over to donate to teachers and volunteers to fully cover the surfaces of 3 cafeteria tables--supplies they could never get their hands on down here.  Most rewarding of all, one of our teacher volunteers enjoyed the experience so much that she hopes to continue and expand the camp next year to include more campers (I'd only sent registration forms to one of the 4 schools in town)! 
     And THAT my friends is what it's all about--what my mission and purpose is here in Belize.  God has taught me complete trust and obedience and I have worked to give the people here a hand up, not a hand out.  I look forward to Camp Creative continuing on in future years and I only think that would be possible because I had put it in God's hands instead of just my own. 


   "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;  In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths."  -Proverbs 3:  5-6


(Below is a slideshow of some of our great fun at camp.  Many more pictures are on our mission facebook page.  To see those just click on the facebook link on the top right of this webpage or the link here http://www.facebook.com/kuhnertfamilymission--you needn't be registered on facebook to view the page.)