What's a Christian to do with Binaries?

A binary is simply a pair of opposites.
Black and white. Up and down. Inside and outside.
In anthropology, we are introduced to binaries by Cladue-Levi Strauss in his structuralist theories, where cultures are based around binaries like sacred/ profane and core/periphery. He says all cultures can be understood in terms of these binaric opposites.
While structuralism in its purist is considered theoretically outdated by contemporary anthropologists-- after all, universal theory is dead too-- I still find that the United Stastian culture still bases much of itself around binaries.
From an early age, we are taught right and wrong and good and bad; the notions of nice/mean, share/selfish, obey/disobey, friend/enemy, safe/dangerous, us/them are so ingrained in concrete opposition that they become a part of our morality.
In school we take true and false tests to pass or fail the class.
We refer to movies or books or food with the comment, "You either love it or hate it."
Even in our humor, we use jokes that being with, "There are 2 kinds of people in this world..."
It is convenient for our intellects, it is a part of our puritanical roots, and it is easy.

But with post-modernism (and post-post modernism) came the glorification of the gray, the multi-directional, the anti-binary.
This scared Christians (with the exception of a few select groups who loved Donald Miller and listen to the Outlaw Preachers podcast). If there is no black and white there is no truth, and if there is no truth there is no Jesus, is the assumption.
But is the Bible really so binaric? Is our God really so binaric?


I think the answer is both yes and no.

• There is the heaven/hell duo (an interesting solution to the thesis and antithesis found in Catholicism's Purgatory), and Jesus saying the only way to the Father God in heaven is through Him (John 14:6).

= Binary

• There are the foundations of righteousness/sin and thus salvation/damnation, between which Jesus intercedes, again as the solution to the thesis and antithesis.

= Binaries

• God wants all our lives, not just a little; He wants hot, not lukewarm, all or nothing (Revelation 3:16).

= Binary

Perhaps Christian theology is so binaric because we as humans find comfort in defining our world pairs of compartmentalized opposites. But, then, if we are created in the image of God, is God Himself also binaric in nature?

I don't think our God is two-dimensional; afterall, He is above dimension:

• The trinity of Father, Son, Holy Spirit.

= Not binaric (or even purely ternary for that matter)

• God is love, righteous, holy, good, faithful, and true.

= Not binaric, but rather unilateral with no opposites to oppose. God's binaric opposer Satan reflects him backwards as being hate, evil, bad, cheating, and lies. BUT, since God made Satan, even he is beautiful (or at least was originally), and thus God has no antithesis (thanks for this interesting point, Mom!).

• Jesus was both fully human and fully God (more than 1 verse here but see John 1:1).

= Binaric in concept, but not a true binary because man and God are not in opposition but rater agreement.

Basically, while the Christian theology may be binaric on the surface, God Himself (or Jesus or the Holy Spirit) is not. The gray lies in the interpretation of the complex doctrine in the New and Old Testament, where pure binaric legalism cannot result in a full understanding of the message of Christianity. They say Christianity is a relationship not a religion, and while most of this relationship is based on the various binaries of sinner/savior, of the earth/of the heavens, flesh/spirit, material/eternal, that separate us from God, Jesus is literally the go-between that solves the contradictions and changes the / for a -- ... 

sinner--savior.  

Part 2 of my series on Examiner.com about authenticity and Internet fitness celebrities:
http://www.examiner.com/anthropology-in-scottsdale/part-2-the-total-fitness-persona-from-the-gym-to-the-web

And:
Fitness Celebs

I'm a real writer!

I am now an officially published professional writer on Examiner.com! I applied as an examiner of Scottsdale Anthropology and will be reporting remotely on various local issues related to the cultural make-up in Scottsdale. Check out my very first article:


Part 1: Determining authenticity through the Internet


Thanks for your support in my writing career :)

My Very First Pilgrimage

Almost half of the country's population—1.5 million people—travel on foot to the Basilica of Cartago to pay homage to the patron saint of La Virgen de Los Angeles every 2nd of August.

Most travel at least 22 km, but some arrive from the Panamanian or Nicaraguan borders.

My journey was 20 km/12 miles and 5 hours or non-stop walking (Well, I did of course have to stop twice to go to the bathroom, hence the 30 minute deduction).

We left downtown San Jose at 8:30pm and arrived at 2am on the dot (as we approached the plaza, we heard the church bells strike twice).

Whether to fulfill a promise to the Virgin, to participate in the ritual, to have fun with friends,

People principally go for faith; some on knees, many barefoot, more with only sandals.

There are people of all ages walking, from viejitos to babies in their mother’s arms.

It was my first time being a part of such a grand-scale religious pilgrimage, and I went with various intentions.

The roads are closed to accommodate the mass movement of humanity.

There are sections where it is wide, but there are points—like at the bridge—where you must force yourself to shuffle along like a herd of cattle to fit through the small opening.

The route to Cartago is uphill for most of the journey from San Jose to climb 1,000 feet in elevation.

This makes the journey a bit difficult after 3 straight hours in the middle of the night.

Upon arrival, devotees wait another 2-3 hours to enter the church where the original Virgin is displayed.

There are 2 entrances, one for foot travelers, one for those coming on hands and knees. The knees line was almost even with those on foot.

In the massive plaza surrounding the impressive church are thousands of prone romeros who camp out after their journeys with nothing more trash bags or loved ones for coverage.

I did not have the capacity to wait to go inside at 2am unfortunately, but I am excited to return when the action has calmed down a bit.

The Virgen of the Angeles is a stone Madonna statue that was appeared twice in the spot where the Basilica rests.

She appeared to a peasant girl first, who brought her home only to find her disappeared in the morning and back at the original place she found her.

The girl then brought her to a priest who locked her in a box for safekeeping. The next morning she was found in the same distant location.

Church constructed in her honor at a different location was unsuccessfully finished due to several earthquakes. It was taken as a sign that the Virgin wanted her church to be exactly where she appeared. It’s final location was completed in 1639 (although also partially destroyed by another earthquake years later).

I bought 2 small replicas and a rosary from a stand on the road for a dollar.

The Basilica has 3 different sections that have been restored and expanded since the 19^th century.

The front section is the most commanding, with its Byzantine-era architecture that resembles the cathedrals of the Greek Orthodox.

At night, only the front is illuminated, giving it this flat, doll-house quality of cartoonish perfection in front of a backdrop.

When I first saw the structure as I emerged from the carnival street leading up to it, I was amazed by its large scale and clean walls. Nothing else in Costa Rica is as big and white as the Basilica (not even the gringo tourists).

My highlights of the night are following a guitar-carrying youth group singing worship songs;

Being inspired by the faith of others displayed in a way I have not previously understood;

Eating a red frozen gelatina (frozen jello in fat Otter Pop plastic) and discussing world politics with my companions;

Feeling a part of Costa Rican culture in a profound way.

Is this real-life?

I never am satisfied with the toned-down, manicured aesthetic of tourist attractions attempting to play the role of a sippy-cup lid to your glass of authentic foreign experience, filtering the chunks and making sure you don't swallow more than you can handle. I, along with many other I-am-not-a-tourist kinds of travelers, are in constant search for the "real" (insert travel destination here)-- going where the natives eat, getting around by public transportation, and keeping the lifestyle of the local population. We are not easily deceived by the overpriced trinkets, not easily amused by the planned tours, and not easily content with simply being comfortable. Travel becomes a challenge, a research investigation, a game. This propels our  sense of urgency to go, go, go, get lost in a new land where no Lonely Planet guide book can get you out of. Get lost and get yourself out. All over the world. You will never be done. You can never beat the game. Finding the "real" for yourself is overwhelming, frightening and makes you feel alive. This just furthers the wanderlust. It's like a drug.


With that in mind, I find myself in my new territory searching for the "authentic" Costa Rica ("authenticity" being among a group of extremely sensitive anthropological jargon that cannot be written without quotations lest you go down in flames with "primitive" and "Third World Country"). This has been confusing and difficult; on one hand, all is Pura Vida, palm-roofed fruit stands on the side of the road, and beautifully decorated ox-driven carts delivering goods, and on the other hand I don't believe that's the "real" Costa Rica. The first time I visited CR in high school, I believed that the locals said pura vida just for the appearance of everything being great for the sake of the tourists' blissful, pampered experience (pura vida is literally the national motto meaning "pure life," and is also the response to any question about well-being, life status, or food quality. Ex: "How are you? Pura vida!" "Do you like the chicken? Pura vida!" Any bumper sticker, shirt, magnet, or little chachky from Costa Rica will undoubtedly have this phrase marked someone next to the country name). I thought it was a fake saying, a too-good-to-be-true smiley response that was created and enforced by the government when Costa Rica decided to up their tourism industry on the gringos. But I have found, Costa Rican to Costa Rican, no tourist in sight, people actually using this phrase normally. Everything really is pura vida. That brings me to the palapa fruit stands selling fresh mangos and strawberries with handwritten signs off the side of the jungle road... is this really where the locals shop too? The stands feel forced-- although not without charm-- like receiving a welcome leigh when you land in Hawaii. It is again, just too good to be true. But yet again, it is true. The company driver (and my personal buddy) took us to his favorite road-side fruit stand where he likes to buy his strawberries. He bought his items and pura vida'd on his way out. And then a few moments later, we saw a legit campesino leading his two white oxen pulling a marvelously painted 2-wheeled cart. Maybe the guy was even delivering fruit to the stand. I was too overwhelmed by the staged-ness of the whole scene involving all 3 elements I most doubt the legitimacy of, so I stayed in the car while my friend jumped out to snap a photo. Is there some magic Costa Rican tourist fairy that is following foreigners around and planning out these postcard scenes and moments? I guess I was wrong about the gimmicks. But I still don't fully believe it.

We are all a hybrid culture.

Again I Might be Wrong

My favorite personal motto: "Again I might be wrong." 


An ex-personal motto I have gotten wrong: "Follow your dreams and it will all work out."


A characteristic that is not sufficient for sustainability, joy, or fulfillment but one of which I value above many others: Passion.


A presentation that exemplifies all my breakthrough realizations on these matters: Mike Rowe of the Discovery Channel series Dirty Jobs (see video below). 


I listened to a sermon by Tim Keller awhile ago on how God has designed humans to work, to create, as an imitation of Himself as Creator. Jobs and work have to do with creation, making, forming, separation no matter the occupation; a teacher brining students' potential out, a medical professional bringing order to a body that is falling apart, an artist making a painting, a hairstylist creating a beautiful look out of chaos... We are sub-creators (as J.R.R. Tolkein names it), and Keller goes as far to say that we need that as a part of satisfaction in life. 


This mesage had been on my mind continually since then, seeing as how the everlooming real world is approaching as well as the questions of "What will you do after you graduate?" I want to do something I am passionate about, and I'll admit, a job that is socially accepted as meaningful. If I were to become a landscaper or a sheep castrator many people would question why in the world I spent all that money on a USC education for such a simple or dirty job. But in God's eyes (and in the anthropologists' minds theoretically), any task can be a fulfillment of God's intention for work, and thus the societal worth given to a job is void because all jobs are essentially equally satisfying the intention. Of course some jobs require more education to fulfill sucessfully, some pay more, some put more lives at stake, obviously not all jobs are equal. However, who are we to say that the man who puts the buttons on a cell phone in an assembly line is working a less important job that the man who invented those buttons? It doesn't seem logical, but then again it is matter of questioning cultural upbrining. What if instead of praising and glorifying actors in Hollywood we had the same fervor for great plumbers? Afterall, a plumbers work is much more practical and personally affective than the man who says lines behind a camera for our entertainment. Look in different cultures and you will find who jobs they value say a lot about their society, and sometimes it doesn't seem to make sense from an outsider's perspective. But does it make sense that we worship people whose job is pretending to be someone else? 


Fast forward to today, when I listened to a different sermon by the pastor of a church I attend in Arizona, Justin of Praxis. He added to my "ah-ha" with words on the often dissappointing nature of passion. Following your passion often results in unfinished projects, hoping from one pursuit to another, because passion itself is does not always endure through the hardship required to acheive a passion. I can see this in my own life with the simple example of my crafty ventures: beginning one necklace with fervor, then getting bored and starting a painting inspired by the of-the-moment angst, then when the painting isn't really turning out how I wanted I jump to re-sewing a dress to fit the change of season, but when I can't get my mom's antiquated sewing machine to work smoothly, I drop the idea and forget about it. Story of my life. Then apply this to my dream of being an anthropologist that works to better the lives of the poor. I learned from the Philippines it is not an easy thing to work for people. Oh sure I'm passionate about solving world hunger and getting every person alive the basic needs of life. But I lost a lot of passion last summer when I worked with Food for the Hungry, because it really, really wasn't fun sometimes. I didn't come home running around excited about living without running water, only eating fried food, or squeezing into public transportation every day. My passion was put to the test when I realized the poor will actually always exist, and to some extent, there isn't that much I personally can do about that. But then came my study abroad in Chile and boy was I passionate about becoming a Chilena! I wanted to only have Chilean friends, eat, talk, sleep, live just like a Chilean, and I was passionate about assimilating perfectly. But then it turns out, assimilating isn't really all that fun all the time, living far away from home and familiarity brings out the worst in you, and Chileans speak really, really fast. So my passion again faded. 


You need a lot more than passion to live a satisfied life. I can honestly say I don't really have passion for serving the poor anymore. I am not passionate about leaving all things North American behind and adopting a Chilean citizenship. It's different with becoming Chilean because that honestly is just rather naive of me, but with serving the poor, I am not just going to accept that I don't love, love, love it and forget about it. I just have a different attitude towards it. 


To sum up all this divergent information, take a look at this TED talk video of Mke Rowe himself doing a much better job at describing what I am trying to say:





My new attitude towards my future occupation: I will work wherever God calls me and do it to its fullest, even when the passion fades or is absent, because that is actually just the most satisfying way to live. 

A Rant on False Feminism

Cosmopolitan is NOT a feminist publication. The popular woman’s magazine that supposedly encourages women’s liberation does not at all promote liberty for women, but rather enslavement evermore to pleasing him. “How to get him to like you,” “How to please him in bed,” “How to be a great catch for him…” The liberal sex for personal feminine pleasure is completely undercoated with the theme of making him happy so that the woman can be considered sexy, beautiful, different, etc., to him. While debaters might claim that copious and free sexual encounters feed women's independence and progression by making her equal to men, the fact that this “progress” is continually all about him and using him to satisfy reveals that fundamentally, while women may be behaving more like for men for sexual satisfaction, the him still manifests a subordinate relationship. Forming an identity around being attractive for men and, much more, changing oneself to be attractive to men is exactly contrary to advancing away from male domination.

            Thus, while Cosmo features articles boasting exerting sexual control over men, the fact that it is still about men proves that part of what Cosmo considers constitutes being a powerful woman is actually a woman that exists to please men sexually. For a woman to be “liberated,” identity, self-esteem and happiness cannot be based on the man but on being comfortable with the reality of who she truly is aside form how men—or even other women—perceive her. A woman should want to please a man because she likes him and wants to express her love in this way, not because she feels pleasing a man puts her in the dominant position and needs this ego boost to sustain her sense of worth. Feminism states that women do not need a man to tell them that she is beautiful for that to be true. And while often Cosmo does not endorse or believe this idea, I believe all women should. 

Chilenismos vs. Mexicanismos: A Quiz

I don't know what my deal is with little games on this thing lately, but here is another activity for you: a quiz! My apologies to non-Spanish speakers! I get made fun of (lovingly) for my vocabulario mexicano, so I'm slowly but surely converting my dialect. Gotta love it when I speak in Spanish and people look at me like I'm speaking another language. Now your turn to figure it out!

Match the Chilean words/phrases with the Mexican equivalents:

Answers

1. n

2. j

3. d

4. a

5. l

6. h

7. k

8. e

9. b

10. f

11. c

12. i

13. g

14. m

15. o

Who wins?  

Mexi en el Otoño

I made two trips to Tijuana, México this fall to visit my beautiful babies at the orphange Cuidad de Angeles. Every time I go down I never want to leave. The kids bless my heart so much, so much more than I could ever bless them. Each child is literally a miracle; their stories are crazy yet they are alive and well. 

The young girls are soon entering their tween years which is apparent from their sassy selves. I lent Liliana my camera the past two visits and was shocked at how grown-up they pose in their photos. It's great with the juxtoposition of the things they take pictures of in their lives-- teddy bears, trash cans, backpacks, bed sheets. The pictures are a unique look at their world from their own perspective, not mine as a relative outsider, an older girl, an American, a visitor. They maintain their childhood while shooting Myspace-esque photos of themselves in the mirrors. I was intruiged when I got my camera back. I wonder, where did they learn the vanity of mirror self portraits? How did they learn to pose with sexy lips with the camera above their heads? These girls do not have abundant access to the internet; I don't even know if they are computer literate. Is it from TV, which they can and do freely watch? I was slightly disturbed that they are already learning to make suggestive faces and pouty lips at their age. It's too much a Lolita complex with their underlying naivite beneath the model posing. I don't want to ruin their childhood more by over analyzing their photos, but they had to have learned the sensual performance of picture posing from somewhere, it cannot possibly be innate. What could be innate is the desire to be beautiful-- both a cultural and universal construction. It seems like young girls are being taught earlier and earlier how to be desirable to the opposite sex, and the social networking sites seemed to have fed this in recent history. But these girls seem to be affected by the styles and inner culture of these sites by diffusion, not even having a Myspace or Facebook at all. I didn't start caring as much about my own personal appeal in photographs until about 13, and then even more at 15 when I opened my Myspace account. These girls are barely double digits.

Are they just having fun taking pictures of themselves or do they know what they are implying? Are they trying to be older? Are they trying to be sexy?

Adjusting...

San Pedro, where I will be staying starting next week 

A catholic church in San Pedro

The Filipinos are beautiful people. I have so much to say but not so much time, so I will break down all my processing into categories and try my best to say what I want.

Things I am getting used to:

1. Transportation:

10 million people living around Manila have to commute at least 1.5 hours to work everyday. This comes in the form of tricycles, buses, jeepneys and train, and for me it is all of the above. Only the wealthy have cars, taxis are expensive and are usually slower if driving during rush hour. Sometimes the trains and jeeps are so full to have to wait for the next, and the next, and the next just to squeeze into a standing space. 

The jeeps are abandoned USA army jeeps which are decorated as colorful and gaudy as possible, no windows, and low cielings (Dad and Dan, you would be croutching). My favorite is that you pay by passing up the money down the line to driver, because the people sit on 2 benches facing in towards eachother and enter from the 1 opening in the rear. They yell out something in Tagalog which I cannot yet understand and pass it on down the line, where the driver gets the change and passes that back down the line. It's great. 

The tricylces are my favorite because they are not tricylces as Americans know it, but motorcylce-esque things with a side buggee attached. The buggee is no more than 1 foot off the ground and is usually covered, as is the extended back seat and front where the driver sits. They are so cute and so much fun to ride around in; the give an interesting view of the city. These are not found on the busy streets and are super convenient for short-ish distances. 

Regarding the roads-- there are rarely painted lines and where there are they are ignored. The driving here is cray cray, but also very fun! Like Mexico, again (I find many links between here and mi Mex actually). 

The only down side to all of this is that it is quite tiring. After 4 hours commute both ways one just feels grimy and sleeps McGee. The amazing news is that the trains and most buses and taxis have air con (the way they refer to air conditioning), which I'm finding is such a plus. I can't imagine such a crowded train without it, it already gets pretty stuffy!

2. Malls:

These are the center of life in Manila. Why? Well, they have air con and they are free to enter. All of the train stations are connected to a mall. All the concerts are in malls because they have stages and watching areas (I happened upon a cultural dance and song show the other day in one and it's crazy to see people lining to balconeys and floors 5 floors up) (Another random fact: the Pussy Cat Dolls were in Manila last week in The Mall of Asia, and it's kinda wierd to see their promo poster of the girls half-clothed playing in a mall). There are just as many shops as the US malls and more, and many are Western companies (think Guess, Colombia, Gap, Dickies, Armani Exchnage, etc., andeven Gucci and Louis Vutton). There are also mass quantities of restaurants, many of which are also Western (McDonalds and Starbucks, but also suprsingly Outback Steakhouse, TGI Frid ays, Chilis, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, Coffee Bean and more). I try to opt for the non-Western places to eat since we have been eating a malls often this week, but luckily even KFC or Burger King have different menu items to suit local taste (At McD, I got a coke float, rice and chicken nuggets). Lately we have been hitting up about 3 malls a day, and I'm sure when I go out to rough it in the community I will love going to the mall to rest in AC and have a flushing toilet.

3. Being starred at:

Yes, everywhere I go. Often in the not-as-nice areas, people will yell out "What's up Joe!" because that's what they call any non-Filippino, no matter the gender or nationality. It's kinda funny, but also a little bit stressful and weird. I was honored when the girls at the office pointed to my arm and said I had Filippino skin and hair, but my face and height do not fit in here, so I stick out (y también mi maestra de Tagalog dijó hoy que me parezco Méxicana, sip! Que honor!) . Ate Chill, a national who I will be working with a lot, says this is the Filippinos way of welcoming me, which I think makes it better in my mind, because otherwise I kinda feel like a freakshow.

4. Tagalog:

It's so much fun to speak because the words bounce of your lips. Ex: Babae is girl, pronounce "bah-bah-eh" and lalaki is boy pronounce "lah-lah-ki." I don't know is dahan dahan, and beautiful is magandang pronounced "mag-ang-dung." Also my name fits in nicely with these repitious noises hehe. There's this cool litte "ng" thing in the words that you only pronounce at the end if a noun follows, kinda like a French liason. So magandang is only pronounced with the "ng" at the end if it is followed by a noun, like umaga, which is morning. This is the way they say good morning, Magandang umaga. So much fun to say! Also, the accents on the words are important because saying one word with a different emphasis on a certain syllable changes the meaning of word completely. Easy to confuse because the spellings are the same, but you can make some grave errors this way! Anyway, language class this week will be good and I love the teachers. 

5. Pollution:

I though living in LA was bad. They say here it's like smoking 4 packs of cigarettes a day! (LA is only one haha). When I scratch my leg, black is underneath my nails. When I blow my nose, black is in my snot (yes, gross). Where the FH office is, a not-as-nice part of town, It's really hard to breath. The vehicles plus industry and urban-ness combined is just terrible. So when I do yoga (I practice as often as I can in my room hehe), I totes notice a difference in my ujjayi breath (sorry if you don't know what this is), because I can't go as deep or exhale as long! Poor lungies.

5. General cultural norms:

• This is a shame society, so respect for elders and people pleasing are huge. "Ate" is Mrs./Ms. and "Kuya" is Mr. and you use these before almost everyone's name (like Ate Chill, what I said earlier). You also include "po" in sentences when address an Ate or Kuya.
  
• Similar to Indian and Latino time, there is no punctuality. I fit in in that sense :)
• It is a touch-based culture, so yay people put thier arms around eachother, hold hands, and hug. However, it is not as much as mis latinos, no kissing cheeks and couples do not do more than hold hands in public.
• Sleeping on transportation is expected due to the nature of commuting. Bam another one I'm a-ok with
• To signal to come, you switch the Wester gesture upside down and have your palm facing downward and moving your fingers in a backwards motion towards you. The other way is the way to call a prostitute, so it's defs important not to mix those up.

On a side note, the fruit here is amaaaaaazing and exotic and delish mcgish! Jenn and I bought dragon fruit, rambuton, and piña at the market yesterday, and we eat little bananas and mangoes at every breakfast.

Please keep praying for me as I do attempt to adjust to these things plus the relationships between my fellow intern, Jenn, and supervisor, Katie. I am so excited everyday when I awake and realize where I am, but of course I am missing family, friends, and home a little bit. 

Ignat! Sige for now! (take care, bye for now)