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Friday, 2009 April 24

Jackson and I decided to visit Montrose's first Asian food market, which also doubles as a used clothing store. Upon entering, we were greeted cheerily by whom I assumed was the store owner, a Filipina, and stoically by a farmer-looking-type sitting on a stool near the cash register. Mrs. Owner, upon our request, ushered us to the back of the store where an impressive collection (for Montrose) of Asian foods - mostly Filipino, to our delight! - was arrayed. We selected some ginger candies and took them to the counter to pay for them. Since I rarely carry cash, I asked Mrs. Owner if she would accept a Mastercard for the purchase. Mrs. Owner began to respond that it was no problem, when Mr. Farmer exploded into a verbal barrage blaming credit for the reason why America "is in such a goddam mess". Suppressing the urge to stop Jackson's ears and simultaneously ring Mr. Farmer's neck for disrupting our otherwise pleasant day, I responded that "credit" has served me well because my credit card company pays me money back for the use of the card and that to date we haven't paid them a cent in interest or finance charges.

Somehow making the blindingly obvious mental connection between credit and immigration, Mr. Farmer continued his verbal abuse without missing a beat. "America is in such a goddam mess," he continued, "because of all of the stupid-ass immigrants we let into this country." My eyes snapped to Mrs. Owner, a Filipina obviously not born in America. She held her smile on me, apparently oblivious to the effusive stream of verbal filth spewing forth from Mr. Farmer. I guessed this was probably not the first time she had heard this. "Especially those goddam Mexicans," Mr. Farmer continued without missing a beat. His eyes narrowed. "We need to kick every one of their lazy asses back across the border!" I turned to Mrs. Owner for help, at a loss for words. I couldn't believe the verbal vomit I was hearing.

Having been under the personal tutelage of a Canadian teacher for the entirety of his short school life, Jackson has been fortunate to have been exposed to the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, and the Civil Rights movement. Kelly has not held back in exposing him to the cruelty that people can force upon one another. Having lived in three countries and having close relatives from Europe, the Philippines, India, Tibet, and Nepal-one of whom had been shot up trying to escape an oppressive regime-he is no stranger to racial adversity. So after we paid Mrs. Owner for the candies - using my Mastercard - and bidding Mrs. Owner and Mr. Farmer a good day, we exited the store. "What did you think of that exchange?" I asked Jackson. He responded that he didn't think very highly of Mr. Farmer's reasoning, "especially," he said, "in front of Mrs. Owner who is an immigrant!" Well said, Jackson. Mr. Farmer, a home-grown American boy, has forgotten a foundational history lesson, one inscribed upon a plaque mounted on the base of the Statue of Liberty:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land,
Here at our sea-washed, sunset- gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mothers of Exile. From her beacon hand
Glows world-wide welcome, her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" she cries
With a silent lips, "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore;
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Although I find myself at odds with U.S. immigration law (we experienced the INS underbelly when moving Kelly and the kids from Canada), we can't ignore the fact that America was built - and made great - by people from all over the world. Our country's fathers, having themselves shaken free an oppressive government - opened the gates wide for foreigners to come and enjoy a new life of freedom and opportunity, creating what for us has become an incredibly rich legacy. I hope for Jackson's sake and the sake of his generation that we heed the call of our forefathers and embrace the responsibility - and joy! - of caring for the wounded, oppressed, and outcast. In so doing, we will show the world that being great comes from the integrity of our hearts and actions.

Posted by Brenda Moureaux on Wednesday, 2010 July 7
bmoureaux@q.com

Nice blog! I am still trying to figure out where this store is that you visited. Do tell! (Natalie's mom, Brenda. We met at Delta swim meet!)

Posted by Shane Duckworth on Saturday, 2010 July 24
shane -AT- bcducks -DOT- org

Thanks for the post, Brenda! Unfortunately, I don't believe the Asian market is there anymore...did Mr. Farmer scare enough customers away?

Sunday, 2009 March 29

This morning I had the pleasure of waking up and being snuggled by our relatively new cat, Cappucino, or Cina for short. According to the animal shelter, she was slightly younger than one year when they found her huddled on a near-by country road, and had already had a litter of kittens. Surprisingly, for her beauty and character, she sat in the animal shelter for the better part of a month before I came down to get her as a surprise for our kids. "You're lucky to get her," the animal control officer told me, "because I had my heart set on taking her home today if no one had come to get her." Although the adjustment to a new home took her awhile (it's been over 8 months and I'm not certain she's totally sure of us!), it was clear from the beginning that she had been well-trained at her previous home. She knew where to eat, and she knew where to poop. What else do cats need? The rest of the house, of course, is hers for sleeping.

Apparently, Cina is a Snowshoe Siamese, a mix of some purebred Siamese with a purebred American shorthair. They are known for their gregarious character, apparently love running water, and are supposed to be affectionate.

The animal control officer called Cina (whom they had named Shelby) an orphan. She clearly had had a home, but surprisingly for her character and beauty, no one had claimed her. And, I'm told, everyone wants to adopt a kitten, not an almost-year-old cat. But for our purposes, she is perfect. The Bible says to care for widows and orphans, and I'd say Cina fits that bill.

Cina is all that Snowshoes are supposed to be. She literally follows us around the house and talks to us. She doesn't beg for food, which stuns me. When I take a shower, she nudges the bathroom door open and will meow at the rim of the tub until I open the door so she can stand up on hind legs and watch the water. If the kids go outside to play and she's left behind, she literally climbs the walls to get outside. When outside, she follows Amy and Jackson around just like a puppy. It's bizarre. She's like a dog that meows.

But Cina is an orphan. As such, she is not quite "gregarious" and really doesn't like affection. She hates being picked up and held, and if you scratch her fur for too long she either gets up and walks away or will swat. It's clear she likes company but really on her own terms.

As a family, we've decided that this unnatural avoidance of affection must change. But not forcefully. Having worked with tough people before as a family, we've decided that we will win Cina's trust and affection over one small step at a time. We're reminded that God has always been patient with us and rarely demands immediate change. It is not His way. He begins at the heart first, and when our hearts change, our outward actions follow. For us, having Cina in our home is an awesome blessing as she is a constant reminder to us of the maturation process that hurt hearts must go through in order to blossom.

Wednesday, 2008 April 2

As excited as I am for the nearing completion of Atlantis, it is hard to get so excited about steel, concrete, and tiles as I am about the hearts that lie behind the building materials.

For example, take a look at Pastors Japor, Tuto, Oking, and Sa-ang in the photo above. These guys invest countless hours in the lives of other people (including the orphans) for very little pay, and no small amount of concern for how they will feed their own families. Yet look at the smile on Pastor Japor's face - where do you see that kind of joy in North America today?

During my stay in the Philippines, I spent eight days and nights with Pastor Japor, acting as a shadow to him. Here's a young man who comes from a very troubled past, becomes one of the youngest pastors in the Charismatic Full Gospel Ministries denomination over no small amount of controversy, and is now engaged in some very difficult ministry with a broad spectrum of troubled people throughout Surigao City, yet was always seen joking and laughing. I learned much about Filipino life, culture, language, and customs during my time there because of his willingness to open his heart to me (in fantastic English!). It became no wonder for me that the orphans have grown so strong in their faith under the tutelage of Pastors Japor and Sa-ang and their beautiful wives. I hope that I can become like these great men when I grow up!

Saturday, 2008 March 15

One of the things that never ceases to amaze me is the Pinoy (Filipino) spirit. There are many things that I love about the Filipino people and their culture, from the way they laugh and joke to the way they walk (really!!!) to the way they acknowledge a "yes" by slightly raising their eyebrows, to the way they drive...

But one of the things that just blows me away is their giving spirit. For such a poor country and people, they never stop giving. As a "wealthy" foreigner, I have been the embarrassed recipient of many gifts for which I don't know how the giver was ever able to pay.

My second visit to the orphanage was abruptly interrupted at the doorway by three beautiful, smiling Filipina faces, one of which I didn't recall seeing before. As my mind feebly grappled with who this gorgeous Filipina might be, the other two girls (Shalom and Rachelle Joy, social workers at the orphanage) told me that "Mhek" has a gift for me.

Have you ever had one of those moments, like in a car accident, where time seems to slow...like, REAL SLOW...and you sortof have an out-of-body view of yourself and the surroundings?

So here I was at the orphange, I certainly hadn't been dreaming all day of visiting the orphanage for the sole purpose of seeing some gorgeous Filipina...I was just coming to visit and spend time with the orphans and the house parents...and *WHAM!* at the door I'm accosted by three beautiful girls telling me that a girl I've never met before has a gift for me. Now back to the "out-of-body" experience...something just did not compute.

So here I am standing at the threshold of the orphanage, a smile on my face because I don't know how else to react, and inside my mind racing furiously to figure out how I know "Mhek" or "Mhek" knows me, and all three, arms linked and blocking the entrance, are smiling at me and "Mhek" is handing me a piece of cardboard. Remember the bad dreams where you are running away from the bad guy and you're running through molasses? Well, that's how my mind felt at that point, still trying to figure out how "Mhek" knows me. "I---'---m c---e---r---t---a---i---n," my slow brain processes, "I w---o---u---l---d r---e---m---e---m---b---e---r y---o---u..."

"Sir Shane, I made this for you. I wanted to thank you for all you do with the kids here," says Mhek, her beautiful smile turned on full-blast. A piece of cardboard?, I think to myself...

Upon turning it over, I nearly hit the floor. Gone is the out-of-body-experience, and time sped up to two or three times normal speed. I was greeted by a painting of my dream beach in the Philippines, a hidden, white sandy beach-cove with a palm tree providing shelter and three of the 7,100 Filipino islands in the background. The painting is flawless in its representation of what my ideal setting is. To top it off, she added "He made all things beautiful in HIS time (Ecclesiastes 3:11). "You...made this...?" I stammered. "Yes, for you," Mhek replied.

Sitting at my computer now, some 7,500 miles away and about 1.5 weeks later, I still can see her face as clear as ever, handing me a piece of cardboard, revealing the most handsome painting I've ever seen. How long did she spend making this painting? What would motivate her to make a painting for some foreigner that she doesn't even know? What, where, why, how...? It doesn't compute.

But this is the way God created Filipinos. They give, they open their hearts, they smile, they engage, they laugh, and they love. At some point, the questions in my uncomprehending, western mind will stop and I will learn to simply enjoy the gift of their presence, their gifts, and their love. But for the time being, I just marvel...

Posted by the PEST on Sunday, 2008 March 16
jemcattle@montrose.net

hahahahahahhaha well said mun! Wish you could see the smile on my face now from this letter! And to imagine that Jesus loves me so much as to give to me one of the Filipinas for my wife!

Posted by Mik on Monday, 2018 December 3
galiamerryjoy@gmail.com

Shane, you are awesome. Thanks for this very creative and detailed story of the scene. That was funny! I wish you saw me how I laughed hard while reading this journal. I also tried to process my brain how , when and where did I meet you the first time. Surprisingly, I can't remember!Hahaha!

Wednesday, 2008 March 12

After a tearful goodbye to May & Family in Siquijor, I threaded my way through Sibulan, Liloan, Cebu, and thence onto the boat to Surigao. After a peaceful (and blessfully QUIET!) night on the boat, I arrived in rainy Surigao, greeted by Pastora Marilou and Juliet, a social worker at the orphanage.

I was able to finally visit the orphanage a few days later. WOW, had the architect and his crew done a nice job on this building. It is shaping up to be a first-class building!

But it would be unkind of me to neglect the reason the building seems so alive: the kids and the wonderful staff at Charisma Bethel Children's Home (CBCH). The kids were somewhat shy at first - it had been two years since my last visit - but it didn't take long before "Tito Shane" was immersed in the midst of a screaming, smiling, and laughing group of kids from ages 3 to 18 who wanted to show me the garden plots they tend, their rooms, and various other items of interest in and around their new building.

At the end of one of the nights there, I witnessed the kids lead and direct the affairs of their own chapel service. The worship (guitar, keyboard, bass guitar, and vocals), the praying, and the recitation of scripture verses by memory were all conducted by the kids themselves, and the intensity with which they worshiped and prayed puts all American churches I've ever been in to great shame. They asked me to end the chapel time in prayer, but it was very difficult for me as I was near tears by the end of the chapel service.

Posted by Tammy on Thursday, 2008 March 13
tammyladner@geopier.com

Shane, this is all truly amazing! You are such a gift to these people; if we only had more like you! I read your blog on the Phoenix trip; I am so thrilled we made such an impression on you! I work with the best people, both in our corporate office and with our regional engineers. I wish you safe travels!

Wednesday, 2008 February 27

A note from my journal...

26 Feb 2008 - I miss Nikki, Trisha, Alyssa, Justin, May, and Utoy [friends in Siquijor]. I think I took for granted my relationship with them, until this trip. I realized how "at home" I felt with them in their house this time, and I did not realize that this feeling would be quite so unique and special. May expressed to me her reluctance and fear in letting me stay with them while seeing me off at the Sibulan ferry terminal, and I think that it probably was based in her worries about how I might react in not having "nice" accomodations. Little does she know that I wouldn't feel any different about them even if they lived in the slums. I love them, and have felt so welcomed/accepted by them (and others in Siquijor), and couldn't be happier having spent part of this last week with them. Thank You, Lord God, for preserving our relationship over these last two years, and my only prayer is that each one of them would discover the joy in life You have for them, in knowing You. May told me that they are willing to allow Alyssa to come live with us in the U.S. for a year so we must start praying what the next several years will bring. The thought of Alyssa at Montrose High School brings a smile to my face...she will have so many friends, and I fear that I will be fighting the boys off [from her]. On the other hand, I worry for some of the hard adjustments that will be in store for her - our community will not provide the nurturing atmosphere that she is used to in Paliton. This will be an item for prayer.

Posted by the PEST on Wednesday, 2008 February 27
embrojem@yahoo.com

mmm nice letter mun, straight to the heart and truth! but since I am a pest I exercise my right to complain that the pics did not show up even when I clicked on the red "x"! I wanted to see that filipino smile of yours and your "relatives" there! Maranatha!

Posted by on Wednesday, 2008 February 27


Ahhhhhhhh the benefits of my pesty complaints! As soon as I registered my complaint the pics appeared! Alas I am fullfilled to see my brother Shanes filipino smile once again, the espression of what is in his and His heart. Sumaiyo ang Diyos!

Posted by Brett on Friday, 2008 February 29
bbyler@buckhorngeo.com

Glad to see your travels are going so well and that you have been reunited with your Filipino family! The beach and sunset look oh so inviting!! I hate to bug you about this, but Dan Hunter really needs to talk to you.... can you call him in Boulder? Just joking....... We all hope to see you soon!

Posted by May on Wednesday, 2009 March 4
libarnesanamay

shane,im so glad that i have discover your blogs(since i learn to exchange email with you ha!ha!ha!)the kids did'nt know they had already been discover outside the Phil...but we want to tell the whole world how much we thank you for being a gift to our family,for being a blessing and bringing God to

Monday, 2008 February 25

So my first hours in the Philippines were spent in frustration, buying tickets, no ATM, no Filipino pesos, and alone...not knowing whether I would arrive in Siquijor only to find no one I knew and not knowing whether anyone had received my messages concerning my arrival.

I need not have worried. Although I spent a good part of the morning in Dumaguete trying (without success) to locate a friend, I arrived safely in Siquijor in the afternoon. It was pretty funny trying to convince the tricycle operator that I knew where I was going and that I was not staying in a resort. It was beyond his thinking that a foreigner would have Filipino friends who would let a foreigner stay at their house. Imagine his surprise when we pulled up to the gathering area in the barangay Paliton to find about 6 people waiting for me! Ah...welcome home!

Home it is indeed. I am so in love with these people, they always make me feel so special. Every afternoon about 10 of us kids would head to Paliton beach for a swim, watching the sun set over Apo Island to the southwest.

Next stop: Surigao, to visit Atlantis. Please pray for me as I am already missing beautiful Alyssa, Nikki, Trisha, and Justin.

Saturday, 2008 February 16

So here I am in Oregon, visiting my mom and madly scrambling to figure out last minute details for my excursion to the Philippines.

Tickets?
Sunscreen?
Money?
Malaria pills?
Oh, shoot! Good thing the doctor in Montrose that prescribed them two years ago is still there and was willing to renew the prescription remotely (it's a long trip back to Montrose from the Oregon coast!).

Communication to the Philippines has been difficult. My first stop is in Dumaguete to see some friends who are really struggling financially. They are basically living at a subsistence level; the husband fishes and the wife has occasional massage jobs (she is VERY good at this!) - they pretty much live day-to-day. They have four kids to support, yet they are always smiling. I wish I had their constitution! I finally was able to contact her by cell phone last night, but was cut off by my calling card company, I think.

Then off to Surigao to visit Atlantis, an orphanage that we've been fundraising for over the last year. The 60 smiling orphan faces, still fresh in my mind from 2 years ago, have just been moved in to their new building from their old orphanage, which was threatened by an impending landslide. I also get to (finally!) meet the director, Pastora Marilou Navarro, and spend some time with her staff so that I can see what challenges pastors in Mindanao face. Unfortunately, I still have yet to hear back from her so I'm not certain she is even aware that I'm on my way!

Please pray for me. I'm not wanting this to turn into a "mission trip" but am wanting to ensure that God's presence remains with me, and that I am doing what He wants me to, when He wants me to.

Please pray for me. I am supposed to preach! Yikes!

Please pray for me. Supporters are anxious to hear that things are progressing as we have represented, and I am expected to return with hours of video footage and many still photographs.

Please pray for me. My body racks from too much work and responsibility at the office and I am really hoping for some R&R on the beach with the kids, just enjoying their presence.

And finally, please pray that God would teach me what it is that He wants me to learn while I am there. I'm amazed how His actions manifest themselves so differently in a different culture, and am excited to see what He does this time.

Posted by Kris on Saturday, 2008 February 16
castilla13@12acres.com

Enjoy and I wish well for you!

Posted by Michael on Friday, 2008 February 29
m13i9k11e5@msn.com

Malaria Pills are for the birds... Didn't anyone tell you that you can't catch Malaria when you are having fun? Guess you will have to spend a lot more time in the Philippines to figure that one out. Don't go having to much fun...your wife left a message on your phone about being Montrose's most eligible bachelorette!

Wednesday, 2008 January 30

One of the things that we've always thought was a positive in our family life (with some pride) is that we have no TV. Actually, we have a TV, but have never had it hooked up. Part of the motivation for lack of TV is to keep our kids from watching junk, the other part is to keep us from watching junk (wasting time).

Last Sunday after church, we decided to head to the store to pick up some drinks for a meeting we were headed to. Safeway was close, but is always expensive. City Market is a bit further away, but can also be expensive. Wal-Mart is almost always cheapest, and so I argued with Kelly that we should head there, to save a buck or two. Amy immediately protested from the back seat: "NO!...you guys always spend too much time there!" (Amy calls Wal-Mart the suck-up store because it "sucks up" too much time when we go there.)

Before any of us could respond, Jackson piped in quietly with a statement of fact: "Amy, don't you know: we sell for less!"

Good job, Wal-Mart, your advertising works even without a TV!

Posted by Kris Richardson on Saturday, 2008 February 16
castilla13@12acres.com

Walmart is evil.

Posted by Kris on Saturday, 2008 February 16
castilla13@12acres.com

Oh, I meant to say that I prefer Dutch Brother's evil character to Walmart's.

Friday, 2008 January 25

There may be no such thing as a free lunch (which isn't true anyway) but there certainly are some great people out there endeavouring to make the world a better place at no cost to anyone other than themselves.

On January 9-12, I got to spend several days with some of the best, friendliest, and forthcoming geotechnical experts I've had the chance to meet in my 10 years in the geotechnical world. Geopier Foundation Company treated me and about 30 other geotechnical engineers from North and Central America to a 2.5-day technical workshop in Phoenix, Arizona, to learn about their foundation systems. There is nothing fancy about their mainstay - a hole drilled in the ground and backfilled with densely-compacted gravel - but the thought, effort, and quality that these guys (gender-nonspecific) have put into their product is nothing short of fantastic. If every American company put half the diligence and innovation into their respective service or product that Geopier does, we would blow the rest of the economic world away.

So not only was the technical portion of the workshop fantastic, but I got to spend a bit of time wandering around the Mesa area in the evenings. Coming from snowy Colorado, I was very happy to walk about in my t-shirt and feel the warm breeze thawing out my poor Colorado-frozen bones. The evenings were gorgeous - see the photo above, taken in front of the Bank of America building!

Then it was off to Sedona with Geopier's zany and fun receptionist and workshop coordinator, Tammy, and about 9 workshop attendees and other Geopier representatives, in search of "sects" - I'm sure that's what it was - and energy vortices. While we found neither, the sunset, dinner, and conversation were both fantastic.

Thanks, Geopier Foundation Company, for the great weekend and for doing such an outstanding job!

2007 December 27

I hate beer. I've never liked it. It tastes like carbonated bathwater (not that I've actually carbonated and drank bathwater, but you get the point).

So I managed to actually get by to age 37 before I was faced with a decision: do I continue in my beer-free happy existence or finally cave in and drink a bottle of beer?

In October, my beer-free existence was shattered by a visit from a friend from New Zealand. It turns out that he likes beer. I mean, he REALLY likes beer. So he showed up at my doorstep carrying a 6-pack of Corona (I understand most Americans don't like Corona?). It's rude to insult a guest by refusing a gift, so off went two bottle caps and...down went the Corona. Blech! Or is that a *belch*!? Then, about a week later, I managed to sneak in what turned out to be an all-day site visit to a client's house to survey her yard and drill some holes and install monitor wells. In my client's gratefulness, I was delivered another 6-pack of beer. My lucky week! Undaunted, when I got home I pried off another bottle cap and downed the darker beer. Blech! And *belch*! On top of it, I discovered Kelly wouldn't kiss me ("That's the most disgusting thing, kissing someone with beer breath!").

Finally, my dad had a party up at his house about a week later to celebrate the granting of political asylum to my sister from Nepal. One of our friends brought some dark beer, so I figured that since I was well into my beer binge, I might as well pilfer a few bottles and indulge my taste buds once again. I got them home, pried off the cap, and downed the dark liquid. Blech! And double *belch*! With this one, my taste buds had little shovels, saying "get that stuff outta here!"

With that, my beer-free existence having been interrupted by a brief, three-week beer-aholic binge, I am happy to say that beer does, indeed, officially taste like carbonated bathwater.

The fate of my undrunk beer? Approximately 5 bottles have been pawned off onto friends from Colorado Springs who actully like the toxin amber liquid, and one bottle made pretty good pizza dough. I've got more sinister uses for the remaining bottles...any other suggestions are welcome!

Posted by Eric on Thursday, 2008 January 24
no@nowhere.com

I agree - beer sucks!

Posted by Julie on Thursday, 2008 January 24
go@gogogirls.com

That's so stupid. How can you live without beer? Beer is your lifeblood. It is the elixir of life. It is ambrosia for the soul. Anyone who hates beer hates his or her own body.

Posted by Ziggy Tops on Thursday, 2008 January 24
dude@gmail.com

Whoa, man...beer can't be smoked...

Posted by Casey on Friday, 2008 February 8
caseygdick@yahoo.com

BEER IS GOOD!

Posted by unc ebay on Monday, 2008 March 17
don_monger@yahoo.com

Makes a great slug bait! They slither in, start swilling the stuff and "BINGO" before you can say burp, they drown in the stuff.

Posted by Kris, one sister on Saturday, 2008 July 19
castilla13@12acres.com

Dear Brother, Next time I visit you, or you, me, I'll be sure to share a "chili beer" from the Calapooya Brewery in Albany, Ore. It's slightly spicy and very flavorful. Yummm.... if you don't like that though, Calapooya also makes 'Pooya Porter or Boxcar Stout (25 cents off when the train

Posted by pest control mesa on Monday, 2009 October 26
csg.csglobal@gmail.com

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