What does an ancient Chinese game called Tangram, the First Unitarian Church of Rochester, the University of Rochester, and thirty primary school educators have to do with sustainable development in the rural, isolated communities of San Marcos de la Sierra? Everything.
No one knows how many millennia ago the game Tangram was invented. Its genius is its simplicity coupled with its enduring applicability as a paradigm for life and learning. Seven geometric shapes — five isosceles triangles of three distinct sizes, one square, and a rhomboid or a parallelogram — are cut from a large square. Putting them back together is the first challenge. It sounds easy enough, but it is a brain squeezer without a diagram. Even with the diagram, it takes extraordinary concentration. The rebuilding of the square is the first, and simplest, task. There are thousands of geodesic designs of animals, persons, flowers, etc. that can be created by re-arranging the seven pieces. This game, this simplistically profound art form, is being employed as a motivational learning tool in a wide swath of disciplines and enterprises. Primarily, it is being employed as curriculum in primary, secondary, and university level educational institutions.
It teaches plane geometry. At the surface level, this is obviously true. But, subtlety, it teaches so much more. It teaches relational play between logic and creativity. It demonstrates spatial relationships and the use of symbol and design in making connections and communication. It unites logic, mathematics, and art to self-expression and self-understanding. The builder builds and at the same time the builder is built. This all happens on an individual level. When the dynamic of simple design creation is placed into a collaborative, team model, a great deal more is discovered. Some recognize their talents for thinking and problem solving. Others realize gifts for organizational skills. Yet another finds support as a motivator, a team builder. The articulate spokesperson, the story-teller, emerges from the group. As the simple game requires the rearrangement of the seven tiles into a cohesion, so too the players take note of their unique shape and how they fit into the whole. Besides all that, it’s fun.
Or at least I was having fun. I and Laura, about thirty primary school educators, a number of medical residents, doctors, and medical students from the University of Rochester brigade, and three or four translators packed into a small classroom to play Tangram. The First Unitarian Church of Rochester had developed the curriculum to share with the teachers. The church has been developing curriculum, teaching teachers, providing educational materials and supplies, and sponsoring students’ education for many years. The First Unitarian Church, the University of Rochester, and the people and associations in San Jose are all pieces of the Tangram puzzle. In relating one to another, they begin to discover their unique shapes and roles, and how they fit. The design they are creating might be called sustainable development.
As I sat there playing the game, getting to know the teachers, brigade members, and translators, I thought of how utterly different these persons are. Some speak English, some Spanish, and a few both. Their cultures and environments are divergent, almost to the point of being exclusive. They don’t look alike. I doubt that they think alike. They have little by the way of shared references. How do they come together? Isn’t it our sameness, our commonality, that binds us one to another? But then again, a square doesn’t look like a triangle. A rhomboid is after all only a deformed rectangle. But putting these pieces together leads to discovery and creativity. That which didn’t seem to fit, fits extraordinarily. And the discovery of that fit yields harmonious beauty.
The University of Rochester brigade has been in San José, San Marcos de la Sierra, Intibucá, Honduras for the past two weeks. More importantly, they have been there for the past decade. Apart from the medical brigade work that they offer so generously, their development projects are building a Tangram of sustainable development. Micro-financing, micro-business, clean and reliable sources of water, nutrition, health care, and education are a few of the pieces of the Tangram. They bring people and resources to the community of San José who are perhaps of a different shape. But they find a good fit. The people of San José have found their fit as well. Divergent shapes find a unique means to mesh into a creative beauty.
When we build together, we are built. That which we create sustains us and empowers us. We overcome that which impoverishes us. We are enriched by our commitment one to another.
Read more at:
University of Rochester, San José Partners, initiatives: http://www.sanjosepartners.org/who-we-are/initiatives
The First Unitarian Church of Rochester, Honduras Partnership: http://rochesterunitarian.org/ministries/social-justice/honduras-partnership/
Culture and Convenio
Many years ago, I ran cultural exchange programs in Puerto Rico. Carmen Judith Nine Curt, a Puerto Rican educator who specialized in cultural, non-verbal communication, often offered training in cultural differences. One afternoon, I sat next to a team leader. At a particular point in the presentation, he became very emotional and I noticed tears welling in his eyes. After the presentation, I sensitively asked what had caused his sadness. An overwhelming sense of guilt overcame him as Professor Curt explained cultural differences relative to eye contact. In the US, eye contact is valued as a sign of respect or attentiveness. In Puerto Rico, as in many other cultures, direct eye contact between opposite genders is generally understood as suggestive, and between the same genders as a threat. (Non-Verbal Communication in Puerto Rico, Dr. Carmen Judith Nine Curt, May 1984, http://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED258468.pdf) He recalled his days as a high school teacher. He had disciplined many Puerto Rican girls and boys for not looking him in the eye. He had made them stay after class and forced them to look directly into his eyes. He had unintentionally disrespected them by assuming that his cultural norm was universal. Lesson learned.
Shoulder to Shoulder deeply respects Hondurans and their culture. In many ways we, North Americans from the US, share a great deal with Hondurans: our aspirations for a just society, our desire to assist persons violated by poverty, a hope that our lives are purposely lived, and much more. Still, we look at the world slightly differently, we consider different approaches to problems, and we sometimes misunderstand one another. But, if we are willing to invest in a long-term relationship of working shoulder to shoulder to empower substantive change, we will find common ground, grow in mutual respect, and learn from one another. Relationships among persons from the same culture are difficult. Relationships between cultures are exponentially more difficult. It would be so much easier to simply assess the problem, design the solution, create a budget, send money, and tell the Hondurans what to do. No involvement, no partnership, no commitment to relationship. It is in fact easier, but it doesn’t work. Plenty of organizations have tried this, and still do. Like water poured on a duck’s back, it runs right off. Shoulder to Shoulder has chosen the less traveled path: investment, engagement, and commitment. Not an easy path, but certainly the meaningful one.
I was reflecting on all of this as Laura and I attended the inauguration ceremony of Shoulder to Shoulder’s new Convenio agreement with the Honduran Ministry of Health on Tuesday, April 28th in Camasca. This was an amazing occurrence. Overnight, Shoulder to Shoulder has literally doubled its responsibility in providing health care. Camasca and Colomoncagua are now included in our system, stretching our coverage south of Yamaranguila to the El Salvador border, from 37,000 persons to 69,000 persons. Two major clinics, one in Camasca and one in Colomoncagua, a birthing center in Camasca, and three satellite clinics in Colomoncagua have been assumed in Shoulder to Shoulder’s health system. Four doctors, six health promoters, three professional nurses, two dentists, two lab technicians, and 16 auxiliary nurses have been added to our health personnel. This is a phenomenal expansion. Shoulder to Shoulder is now essentially the exclusive provider of health care in the Frontera of Intibucá.
“Wow,” I thought as I arrived in Camasca at around 8:45 AM for the inaugural meeting scheduled for 9:00 AM. Laura and I, the Americans, were the only ones there by 9:00 AM. Over the next forty-five minutes a few people stroll in, but the major players, the doctors, the administrators, the mayors, the Ministry of Health personnel, have yet to arrive. I realize that this is how it is done in Honduras. A major meeting scheduled for 9:00 AM will not start prior to 10:30 AM. Though my cultural sensitivities are offended, though I want to scream “What about efficiency, good management, and accountability,” this is useless. If I actually complained, it would be met with expressions of incredulity. If you didn’t want to stand around and wait, why did you come on time? Still, I’m thinking of all the other things I could be doing. This is annoying to me. But, to a Honduran, this is valuable, the way things are done. So, I grin and bear it. As I wait, something else strikes me. As I boil inside and anxiously look around the room, I realize something else. Laura, I, and one other person, Kate, are from the US. Everyone else here is Honduran. Though this was the dream of people from the US, it is being realized by Hondurans. This is empowerment. This is development. This is a shoulder to shoulder enterprise.
The meeting finally starts sometime shortly after 10:30 AM. The presentations from Shoulder to Shoulder, the local governments, and the Ministry of Health are all celebratory and congratulatory. It emphasizes our capabilities and possibilities all in a positive tone. The questions and comments from the audience express fears and anxieties. There are many challenges of implementation yet to be faced. I guess they will be faced, hammered out, as we walk together on this journey. But I’m not thinking about our celebratory presentations or even the challenges of implementation we’ve yet to face. I’m thinking about how we arrived here at all. I’m thinking about the early years of our journey when US university brigades were the only health care in this huge swath of territory. There were no systems of health care save for a couple of gringo doctors and nurses who visited isolated towns without roads, electricity, or water. What tremendous cultural challenges they must have faced? I imagine them holding a community meeting with locals. The Hondurans arrive two hours after the scheduled time. Maybe those brigades felt frustration and anger. Maybe they chastised the people. Maybe they managed to hold their breath. Whatever it was, however great the cultural discord, they must have managed to stay the course, move beyond the cultural distance, and form relationships of mutual respect and empowerment. They must have shared their dreams, because these dreams are realized today among competent Honduran professionals. The shoulder to shoulder commitment today sustains a system of service and development anchored among the people of southern Intibucá.
Convenio, not easily translated into English, is derived from Latin and means to come together. The word Covenant is a derivation. Covenant is much more than a contract. A covenant implies not only the commitment of a task or property, but the willingness to give oneself over. This means challenge and personal transformation. It involves risk, it is difficult, and most of us will avoid this level of commitment. When divergent cultures are involved, it is wrenching. Why would anyone enter into a covenant relationship? Because it is the only way to effect substantive and meaningful change. New convenios found in honest cultural exchange await as we journey shoulder to shoulder.
It Was the Best of Times….
Some English guy, Dickies, or Dicksburg, I guess it was Dickens, wrote this book that I read in High School. In high school, most of us were stupefied by the oxymoronic opening line, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,…” It is cruel to expect a high school student to appreciate the wisdom contained in the classic phrase. For them, it is simply inane to describe anything as both the best and the worst. Only with lived experience does the inherent ambiguity of life become clear (or perhaps more completely muddled). With time and memory, failures are redefined successes, disappointment becomes hope, and life itself is elusive and mysterious. To gain wisdom is to be humbled. Wisdom is perhaps simply knowing that neither our intention nor expectation determines outcome. For all of our planning, our critical considerations, our need to control all variables, our intentional designs, outcomes are always a surprise. Some might call this Karma, or God, or simply mysterious principles of the universe. It is the worst: an unanticipated outcome for which we now must take responsibility. It is the best: something far beyond our limited design.
This aura of best and worst engulfed us this past week. Our board president, Attorney Wayne Waite, and the board secretary, Mr. Dwight Armstrong, arrived in Honduras on April 13. They were stretched this way and that in high powered meetings with Honduran government officials, US embassy representatives, university deans, local mayors, humanitarian organizations, Shoulder to Shoulder staff and supporters, and so many others. Draining as it must have been, they did find moments to refresh their spirits. The children at the Good Shepherd Bilingual School greeted them with the exuberance of youth. Dwight, a man of the earth, had the chance to breath in the rejuvenating air of a Camasca farm. Both of them had a moment to relax in our humble home in Concepcion where we listened attentively to their life stories and witnessed their admirable commitment to Shoulder to Shoulder. More meetings and visits followed them on their trek back to Tegucigalpa. Dreams and anxieties, the beauty of mission and the challenge of execution, the satisfaction of achievement and the weight of planning for the future, traveled with them, filling their heads and hearts in preparation for the board meeting.
On Saturday morning, the Hombro a Hombro Board (the board for our Honduran NGO) began its deliberations. Laura and I were asked to attend. We believed we would be there for Saturday and leave on Sunday. But we were asked to stay on first until Monday, and then again until Tuesday. We hadn’t brought enough clothes and ended up washing them in the sink. The discussions were inspiring and animated. There are such great opportunities present to Shoulder to Shoulder in its mission of empowerment with the people of Intibucá. Our work in education is bringing hope to children. The potential in agricultural development and food security promises a path to prosperity in the Frontera. Our collaborative work with brigade partners and our expansion in new service areas bring well-being and health to the isolated and forgotten. The value of our present service and these golden opportunities for future service enliven us. But lest our euphoria swell our egos, serious challenges also confront us. Like any charitable organization, our slim and stretched resources threaten our goals. We also see our faults. We could be better organizers. We could be better communicators. Simply, I suppose, we could be better. On top of all this there is the stickiness of working collaboratively. The others, our partners, always have designs different than our own. Why can’t they just recognize that we are right and stop inserting their own thoughts? (It’s a joke)
So we have the best, and so we have the worst: our hearts exploding with joy and our minds crippled with angst. It would be so nice if our deliberations followed a clear and linear path. But rather our deliberations are circular, popping from one theme to the next, always elusive and exhausting. What should be our response? Should we follow our hearts? Should we follow our heads? These questions forever elude any answer.
Monday afternoon I’m soaping up and rinsing out my few articles of clothing in the hotel room’s sink, feeling very sorry for myself. I despise doing laundry, even more so when I have to do it by hand which is more often the case than not here in Honduras. The questions weigh on my head and heart. Again feeling sorry for myself, I ask, “Why does it need to be so hard?” The answer I receive humbles me. It is hard because it is important. Ease is not the goal. Purpose, meaning, justice, and connection, these are the goals. These are not easy. I realize that anything in my life that has lasting value is difficult. It is only in recognizing and accepting the challenges, standing in the storm if you will, when dreams are dreamt and missions exercised. This interplay between the best and the worst is how we realize the integrity of service and justice. More mundanely, I feel some shame knowing that most Hondurans wash their clothes by hand without complaint. My petty ego needs to get out of the way.
Shoulder to Shoulder is doing incredible things to empower the people of Intibucá. Shoulder to Shoulder will invest in even more meaningful missions, deepening relationships of trust and commitment with the people and associations in Intibucá and Honduras. It is the best of times. None of it happens without facing strong head winds. We will design and plan, consider and decide, and seek out donors and partners to share our mission shoulder to shoulder. This, as necessary as it is, will not yield success. It is not the keenness of our minds, nor the professional quality of our planning, nor the wealth of our endowment, that secures the rightness of our mission. It is the integrity of the heart. If we maintain the integrity of our hearts, our dreams will wake. The results will not appear as we had envisioned. They will be so much better than the limits of our minds. They will flood our hearts with joy.
Indeed, these are the best of times, these are the worst of times… And the story continues…