Post written by Liz Lincoln

Unknown Name Unknown Number. That’s the what the call display reads. But it is a sign of change that I have become somehow eager to answer the phone when it reads Unknown Name Unknown Number. And indeed there is irony in this very phrase.

It used to be that this phrase on the call display meant a telemarketer was on the other end, or it was one of those calls with the endless annoying series of beeps that seem to plague our phone line at various times of night, day, or early-early morning. Over the last few months however, I have come to learn that Unknown Name Unknown Number actually means “Jamaican friend reaching out.”

And the irony in many ways is that I can see by the world’s standards, these people are completely Unknown. And they are primarily considered Unimportant. I find this to be Unthinkable, Unbearable, Undeniably wrong.

Pearl has called me, sharing her pain, her joy, her fear, her needs. Tony has called, sharing his life, his need, his desire, his willingness to work. And tonight, Gary called. I didn’t even know Gary had a phone!

He shared about his Christmas with family, his desire to get back into Special Olympics to play bocce, and that the mobile we made together in November had been torn down by a resident at the Infirmary.

“He is blind.” he said without anger, irritation or sarcasm, all the things I would have attached to such a phrase if the tables were turned. “It was hung too low.” He said.

Just the facts, no hidden meaning attached.

I asked him, in my sensitive “I’m-a-Christian” way, which I find rather embarrassing in retrospect, if there was anything we could be praying about for him. How assuming of me, really, to think that he would NEED my prayer. And yet, he may, but in some ways my gesture felt hollow and naive after I hung up the phone.

“Nothing comes to mind.” he said.

This seems typical of the people I have met at the infirmary. Even though they are in the valley of the shadow of death, quite literally with some residents now breathing only the thinnest wisps of air, dementia upon their shoulder, crippled limbs that no longer have circulation where the familiar spots of gang-green are beginning to appear. Their location down the street from a cemetery seems bitingly appropriate. The valley of the shadow of death is in many ways, their home.

But Gary didn’t call because he was in the valley, or because he wants anything from me other than what you do with friends or family. He just wanted to chat and get the most out of the few cell phone minutes he could afford until they ran dry after 10 minutes. He just wanted to visit.

I never believed for an instant that I would serve at the infirmary, make friends there, and crumple broken-hearted when I had to say goodbye. I never believed I would learn so many names or in such a short period of time, come to know mannerisms, likes and dislikes. I never expected or anticipated it, but the Unknown became Known.

This post was authored by Nathan, one of our teammates who courageously led us in music each day at the infirmary:

Jamaica.

Was it going to be another service project? I know what those are like.

Was it going to be unique, fun, and rewarding?

Well.

The trip to Jamaica was the toughest volunteer week I have ever done. Both emotionally and psychologically. And I’m still processing the trip, over a month after I’ve come home.

For me, there were two factors that were difficult. The first was the level of poverty of a developing country. I have to admit, I guess I am not as carefree about dirt and about touching dirty hands/feet/forks/spoons/cups/clothes as I used to be. Not sure if that is a sign of weakness or a sign of getting older or a sign of something else. Regardless, it was difficult, knowing that I should be loving and accepting and friendly, and knowing that those actions were a part of who I was and wanted to be, but yet finding myself reserved, untrusting, and on edge. It’s a developing country! Disease, infections, bad food all happen in places like Jamaica. I couldn’t rest easily.

But when I got outside of myself, I still could not rest easily, because all around were people living in these conditions. Of course, you say, in poverty-stricken valleys are where Jamaican’s live; one had to have expected that. Well, that’s what I told myself too, I tried not to be surprised, but how was I to fit in here? How was I to contribute, to help? In the states, you can make something clean – a new coat of paint, a newly landscaped yard, beautification. However, here in Jamaica, you couldn’t do that. I mean, you could, but it would be a poor band-aid to cover the major problems that exist there. Fresh paint on a wall that is crumbling or is really just a patchwork of corrugated metal, or mulch and flowers in a yard in a rain forest with banana trees, thick undergrowth, goats, and chickens just seems hypocritical. There is a different kind of need in Jamaica, as with other developing countries. One that is deeper, more insistent, more important.

I was impressed by Won by One because I felt that they were meeting those deeper needs of the community. Clothes, food, jobs, a sense of community, a sense of family, a safe place where children, teens, adults can hang out. Most importantly, Won by One provided a living example of the Word. Their impact on the community of Harmons was definitely noticeable, even in the short time I was there, and it was inspiring.

I was also inspired by families while in Jamaica. When people have nothing, they at least have their own family. Three, sometimes four, generations living under the same roof. Everyone has a job to do, everyone helps in order to make things a little better for everyone else. And everyone takes care of those who can’t take care of themselves, the young and the very old. Much stronger bonds then are here in the states. Granted, most children are born out of wedlock, and most mothers are single, however, support from parents, sisters, aunts, uncles, siblings all help to keep families moving forward. It made me wonder why my grandmother doesn’t live with me. And why I don’t call her enough, or my parents enough for that matter.


So, with my first difficulty in Jamaica being the poverty, my second was our actual service.

We served at the Clarendon May Pen Infirmary. As you might have read from previous posts, the infirmary serves people who can no longer take care of themselves and have no one that is able to take care of them. The locals call it the Poor House, but it is basically the last stop on the line. Going there for the first time, I didn’t really know what to expect other than a general state of destitution. What I didn’t expect was that I felt like I was walking into a horror show.

It was tough, and I won’t go into too much detail here, but I would close my eyes to sleep at night and see images: wide vacant staring expressionless eyes, drool, contorted bodies, flies. Sounds of shrieking, and the smell of urine everywhere. I didn’t want to touch anything. I didn’t want to touch anybody. It was all I could do to get out of the van each morning… like jumping into an icy lake, everyday, over and over again. Each time knowing more what it feels like, thus dreading it worse and worse.

I had many questions. I didn’t understand how this could happen. I mean, surely it happens, more frequently that I know. But actually like this? These people who seemed to live and sometimes act like animals, could they be human? Could they be my brothers and sisters? I found strength in the Word and in quotes from Mother Teresa. When taken as a whole, all of the suffering makes it hard to focus and concentrate. But individually, by focusing on one person at a time, you can help and serve and meet that one person’s needs as best as you can. Sitting down with one person at a time was the only way I could face and try to understand it.


Over the course of the week, amazing things happened. I found myself looking in the mirror and seeing expressions of the people we were working with in my face. Lying in bed at night I felt like the infirmary resident whose bed I sat on earlier that day, with his sheets pulled up to his chin. Each of these little moments made me realize how much I was like them. And when each day as they smiled or laughed in recognition, I realized that we had made friends.

Go figure. We had intended to go and serve the people at the infirmary, and God made friends for us. Unbelievable.

I can’t say how many times I cried that week or even after I got home and had a chance to unwind a little. But I can say that I know people in May Pen. People who are a little different, a little slow, and a little forgetful. People who like to laugh, like to sing, and like to color. People who don’t strive for beauty. People who are misunderstood. People who have such a strong faith. People who love and love to be loved.
-Nathan

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PLEASE NOTE: We continue to raise funds for those at the infirmary and will be returning in March 2007 to further the work we began in November. All donations made through our site are managed by Ryan Lincoln. You will see his name appear throughout the transaction. You may also contact Ryan at ryanlincoln@post.harvard.edu if you have any questions about your payment. Thank you for your contribution!

It has been just over a week since we returned from Jamaica, and it is my turn to write a post for our blog. Liz has been trying to get me to do this for months, but before our trip I told her that I had nothing to say (for those of you who know me, a rare occurrence indeed!). And now I am back in the comfort of my apartment in Boston, staring at my computer, still unsure of what to write. But this time it is not because I have nothing to say. It is because there is so much to say, I just can’t imagine where to start or what words I could use to begin to do justice to our experience.

Becky’s entry (below) really resonated with me, because I too spend my life running from point A to point B, without much time to stop and smell the roses in between. In an academic city like Boston, and in most of the western world, worth and success are measured by efficiency, accomplishments, and intellect. As Christians, we are taught that our worth as people does not come from these worldly things, but from our identity as sons and daughters of God. So why do we still spend so much time adding and checking off items on our “to do” lists, only to check everything off and start another list?

In my own life, I find that the busyness comes from very “noble” causes. Taking food to a friend who is sick. Volunteering at church. Serving on committees. Attending board meetings. We are told that it is our job to help people who are less fortunate, or to help people who cannot help themselves. In many ways, my professional life for the past 9 years has been based around this concept.

Liz, Ryan, Nate, Becky, Silvia and I spent most of our days in Jamaica at the May Pen Infirmary, or as the locals call it, the “Poor House”. The Infirmary is home to 130 adults with physical and cognitive difficulties, most who have been left there by family members who do not want to care for them. The sights, smells, and sounds were so shocking that they will remain in my memory for many years to come.

As any typical group of Americans would, we went in with a plan. We had daily schedules of what our time there would look like, what we would accomplish each day. Not surprisingly, our schedule was scrapped about halfway through our first day. What we found is that more than our services, projects, or plans, the best thing that we could offer the residents of the Infirmary was ourselves. So we walked around. We watched. We waved and said hello. We sat down and chatted. We read scripture aloud. We sang (everything from “Jesus Loves Me” to Bob Marley to Kenny Rogers!). We held hands and touched faces. Most importantly, we listened.

And at the end of the week, though most of the items on our “to do” list had gone unchecked, we realized that we had actually achieved what we set out to accomplish. For a few short days, we had succeeded in being the hands and feet of Jesus to these forgotten people. Because when you look at the Gospel, you find that Jesus did not spend his time planning meetings, serving on committees, or checking off items on his “to do” list. Jesus spent His time just BEING with people. Walking with them, talking with them, listening to them. Seeing, hearing, touching. It was His presence that was the healing balm.


I am reminded of the words of a familiar song from my childhood: “’Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free.” In His simple presence, Jesus brought freedom. As we enter the Advent season, a time to remember the way the God if the Universe came to earth as a poor and helpless baby, I am overwhelmed by the simplicity. And even more grateful for the freedom.

~ Mary Frances Giles

today i am back at work, and i currently have 1455 e-mails in my inbox. life moves so fast in the silicon valley, and i was relating to ryan today that it's interesting to have an outsider's view of the American rat race. i wonder how long it will take me to get fully back into it.

before i left for jamaica, i was zooming around the halls of the SCU business school on my way to class. i heard someone say something & then heard again my name yelled out clearly. i had walked right by one of my study buddies and not seen him at all. he lectured me on how we are all so focused on getting from point a to b. "everyone is a to b, a to b, all the time," he said as he gave a stir to his coffee and sauntered off to his class. i found his casual pace annoying.

in harmons, our trip leader, josh, drove us to the infirmary a couple of the days. we all knew that when josh said we would leave at 8:30, that meant we'd leave maybe by 9, probably closer to 9:30. but this isn't because josh is spending extra time checking his e-mail or primping, he's talking to jamaicans about what medicine they need, or giving them clothes, or making sure some of them have a job for the day. and when he drove us, the drive took ten times longer because we would stop constantly. josh would hand off a bag of supplies and clothes to a young woman, he'd talk to some of the guys that work for him, he'd give a honk to his friends, and he'd stop to let some cute jamaican boys hop in the back for a ride to school. and, when we dropped them off, they wouldn't go down to the school without waving goodbye to josh and making sure he gave them a wave back.

so i realize it's like this in my life - i am constantly "a to b" here at home in the states. and i'd like to be more like i was in harmons, where i was completely content to sit and color on the urine stained floor at the infirmary with my new friends who have no schedule. i'm "a to b" not just in the halls of the b-school but with my co-workers and my neighbors and with the rest of the world. i'm literally and figuratively walking by people and not seeing them each and every day. one of my favorite prayers says "let me not mistake busyness for freedom." so this week, one of the many things i am praying is that God messes up all my a to b plans and that i'll remember first and foremost His great love and that i'll learn the best way to live life from His amazing sons and daughters in jamaica who are grateful for those that take time to stop, who let their schedules get messed up, and who remember.



~Becky Blevins

We're IN Jamaica! Today is Monday November 20th.

We had a first great day at the Infirmary and our team is doing well. We are encouraged by the laughter and singing of the residents once we were able to break the ice. Patience can be difficult to endure, but we got to reap the benefits.

We are all well - good food, new friends, lots of sleep in the midst of a jungle.

We hope to post more when we get a chance.

Thank you for your many prayers and thoughts!

JamaicaNow Team

We're packed and ready for pickup! Tomorrow morning at 4:00 AM our Jamaican Journey will begin. We have one quick stop in Atlanta and then we'll find ourselves in Montego Bay.

This has been a week of packing for all of us, while we still have to pack our personal gear and solidify tiny details tonight, we have our group donations ready to go! With team members scrambling to get updated vaccines, notarize forms, and organize their donated supplies, we have all been busy. Here are a few shots from the Boston packing party last night:

Nate and Mary Frances loading suitcases

Our surprise guest helper, Ryan Green from the band ryanhood helped us gage the weight of containers (50lbs is the limit) .

We don't anticipate having internet access during our trip, but we have heard there is a webcam pointed on the Harmony House courtyard which is updated ever 60 seconds. You can visit the webcam at: http://wonbyonejamaica.com/

Who knows....you may just catch sight of one of us as we unload our luggage, make our way to the bus that we'll use to visit the infirmary each day, or perhaps one the famous "courtyard gatherings" when we hang out with the local Jamaicans over music and sno cones!

Many thanks to all of our friends and family for continued support, encouragement and prayers. I spoke (Elizabeth) with the Head Matron this afternoon and she is so thrilled that we'll be spending our time at the infirmary. She was especially encouraged that we'd raised so many funds to purchase the large appliances they need. This is thanks to you!

We are ready for take off and hope that your thoughts and prayers will continue over the coming week.

All the Best,
JamaicaNow Team 2006

Becky Blevins, Silvia De la Guardia, Mary Frances Giles,
Ryan and Elizabeth Lincoln, and Nate Pelsma

8 days and counting!

We are very excited about our final countdown to our team's departure for Jamaica. With 8 days remaining we are finalizing donations, collecting items that need to be taken with us to the infirmary for craft activities and tying up loose ends.

We've decided to take down some recreational items such as items for a bean bag toss and a ring toss that will help residents with movement while still having fun . We decided to make the bean bags instead of buying them, which wasn't best for our stress levels, but it was certainly better for the budget! A $2.99 outdoor tablecloth from Kmart, 3 bags of dry canelini beans and a sewing machine did the trick.

Other "loose ends" that are being tied up in Boston have taken a very colorful and fanciful shape. A few weeks ago, Ryan recalled that back in 2003 one of the team members decided to bring his "arsenal" of balloons along so that each of the residents could have a "balloon animal" made for them. Ryan had never seen such delight and wonder expressed by the residents, so he has decided to learn these tricks and techniques for our trip! The Lincoln apartment and Mary Frances' apartment have recently been home to some of the practice shapes:

rabbit
parrot

giraffe
poodle

We're really excited about our upcoming work and thank you again for your continued support with funding, encouragement, and fresh ideas.

JamaicaNow Team 2006
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PLEASE NOTE: All payments through our website are managed by Ryan Lincoln. You will see his name appear throughout the transaction. Please indicate (during your transaction) if your payment should be assigned to a specific team member. You may also contact Ryan at ryanlincoln@post.harvard.edu if you have any questions about your payment.

Over the last few weeks Ryan and I have been talking about what it's like when you first land in Jamaica. We'll be doing just that in15 days.

What to expect when you travel to Jamaica...

1) A half dozen locals dressed in traditional garb singing a welcome as you wait at immigration.

2) The nicest immigration agents you can imagine, tired, but friendly.

3) The most confusing customs process you will ever experience. The bags of 30+ Americans overloaded with medications, donated clothes, and supplies are rushed past multiple officers as quickly as possible. We don't want hassle, just a brief inspection and out the doors to the airport lobby.

4) More offers to carry your luggage to your car or someone's cab than you care to respond to. Best just to haul your own stuff anyhow.

5) A comfy bus with a brief stop at McDonald's for dinner where the burgers seem frightfully expensive. Don't worry that $30 value meal is Jamaican dollars - it will only cost you $5.

6) Driving past some of the most gorgeous scenery, but those ocean views and resorts will slowly give way to "real" Jamaica. Cement houses, others made of found objects and tin. Children, mothers, fathers walking the roads from one place to another.

7) As you ascend the mountains the sun will set, the road will become more bumpy, and those small villages will come alive with the congregation of locals. It's Saturday night after all, so it's time to crank the music.

8) After hours of driving in the dark you'll arrive in Harmons where a few Won by One staff and soon-to-be friends will greet you. Everyone pitches in to bring the 90+ pieces of luggage into the Harmony House courtyard.

9) Then after you think you can stay awake no more, sleeping....in the dark, in the silence. The only light being fireflies that twinkle briefly near the ceiling. Darkness, silence.

10) A brightly lit sky to wake you, the sound of a farmer singing with contentment as he walks past the Harmony House with his pig through the grass and trees, his day starting much earlier than yours.

These are the things that come to mind when I think about my first hours in Jamaica. I'm hoping to find things much the same two weeks from now. What calm these memories bring to me as I sit in an office building with the traffic, construction, and pedestrians swirling past my window. Jackhammer anyone?

No thanks, I'm dreaming of Jamaica.

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PLEASE NOTE: All payments through our website are managed by Ryan Lincoln. You will see his name appear throughout the transaction. Please indicate (during your transaction) if your payment should be assigned to a specific team member. You may also contact Ryan at ryanlincoln@post.harvard.edu if you have any questions about your payment.