Face to Face with (CV) the Red Command!

So I know what you all must be wondering.  What in the world does all this have to do with drug trafficing, how did this affect your current situation in Asia, and most important, what is the "Red Command"?
Let me begin by answering the last question "What is the Red Command?" then I will back up and begin answering the following questions in chronological order.  I think that is the most logical way of doing this.  Clear...Kind've...A little...Vaguely transparent....ok good enough.

The Red Command is a huge crime sindicate in Rio de Janeiro, they traffic illigal cocaine all over the world.  The are second in size only to the Mafia.  This is the story of how my brother and I were able to get an up close look at their connections and the extent of their organization.

Now I am certain that in just one year earlier if I had been asked about drugs and more importantly drug trafficking, my response would have rung out bodly, "Drugs are bad....MmmmmKay!"  Today however, I am more deeply aware of the hurt they cause and the bondage entire communities face to to their effects.  Most drug leaders it seems are not greedy capitalists trying to gain a quick profit.  They are poor, uneducated individuals who due to the corruption of their surroundings have only one shot at a chance to live what promises and seems as close to a "normal life" as they can imagine.  Food for their families and an education for their children is what they seek.  The problem lies when they discover their is no way out and their life expectancy is only 5 YRS!  They live in fear, anxiety and bondage with no way out.
After working with the children, Cristiano took us up into a favela controlled by--guess who--yup the Red Command or CV (Comanche Vemelia) to celebrate his nephews birthday.  While visiting the family we contacted some leaders and relayed the story and where it happened.  As it turns out the area we were in during the robbery was at the time controlled by CV and they even promised to work toward finding out things.  I know it was only a slight chance, but I felt they were roughly 1000x more likely to recoup are belonging than the policy who had infinately less connections and equally as corrupt.  We did however take the time to file a police report even though it seemed like the time would have been most likely been more productive staring at fly droppings through a magnifying glass.  Imagine these thugs helping a few Americans they had never met.

So I suppose my answer concerning drug trafficing is more complex now.  As we ask around the favela to discover the more popular organization the trafficas or the police, surprising the trafficas are much more popular.  "Oh the police are bad!  The trafficas are ok, they are my friends, they would never hurt me.  They are just providing something for others who want it, but the police will deliberately take advantage of innocent people for no reason except to cushion their already buldging wallets.

I know that all things work together for good to those who are called, and I certainly knew God had sent me to Rio.  So to answer the last question, "What does this have to do with your current situation.  This instance is evidence of everything we felt and experienced on a daily basis.  We were forced to always be cautious and always be on alert.  This was first time that I could so thoroughly appreciate the comforts and safety of rural U.S.A.   This was also the first time that I could realize with certainty that I could react calmly in perilous situations.  Wherever I travel, wherever the road leads, I know that He is watching over me and regardless of situations or circumstances, I rest in the palm of His hand.  Safety or danger, quiet farms or noisy cities, I will travel where He directs.  I suppose this was one of the first lessons which I still carry with me.

So I continued in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro for several more months as God showed me more and more about that city and taught me more about myself!

Trusting the Lord to Provide--An introduction to the Red Command

August 26, 2010

A year prior to this date I would have given a typical evangelical response if asked about my feelings toward drug trafficking.   I would have probably even made elaborate claims about the economical response to such activity, but after this Saturday a year and a half ago my answer is now quit a different story.

Everything is the Lords, He chooses to to give some 10 talents and some but 1.  Everything under my watch belongs to Him and I must bear this in mind in every circumstance which I face.  He can multiply my talents or He can strip them from me.  The widows mill never ran out, 5,000+ people were fed using only a small lunch, and there was plenty of wine at the wedding for all to enjoy the celebration.  On the other hand Joseph lost everything he had, Moses fled to the wilderness after obeying the Lord, and Job for reasons which he could not see or comprehend lost his wealth, family, livestock, and even most of his friends.

Today (8-26-10) I lost something.  Something very small yet more valuable the associated price tag.  Today, I was allowed to see beyond the surface and experience my city the way she truely is.  While on our way to a new favela in the northern part of the city to volunteer with a friend from church (Cristiano and his wife) and meet the children he so diligently teaches every single week, the man sitting in front of my brother and I stood up.  I do not know his name or his situation all I know is that he had a small boy with him.

He stood as if to exit the bus, but he did not pull the cord.  Instead he reached into his pants and pulled a gun.  He pointed at my face and nodded at our backpack.  "Machila, Machila!" He shouted.  I remember looking down at our pack dazed and a bit confused.  I paused processing what was happening and with what response I would address such a rude and demanding threat.

My thoughts wondered only for one frozen moment and suddenly time sped rapidly and my consciousness returned my brothers words broke my concentration.  "He wants the pack!" Austin shouted, "Give him the backpack!"  I am certain Austin thought I simply did not understand as the man was shouting in Portuguese, but I understood perfectly at this point I had developed a basic vocabulary.

My thoughts no longer wondered, I had been in limbo about what I should do, or would my older brother be disappointed in me if I turned over his things as well as mine without even a struggle.  I simply obeyed my older brothers command.  Looking down the barrel of that gun I never felt afraid.  The only emotion I felt was confusion.  Confused about why this was happening, confused about what a proper response would be, and confused about how Austin would want me to react.

Looking back on the what happened this response is where I actually learn the most.  It was as if I were programmed to do exactly as my older brother said.  It was actually the best thing I could have done in the situation, but I still do not completely understand the robotic state that entranced me at that exact moment.

What I did learn for certain is that the Lord is revealing the dangers and evils of this city to me and I must trust  in Him alone.  Also I am learning to be on a higher level of alertness at all times and be careful about trusting anyone.  Trusting anyone to even sit next to me on a bus.  We were always on alert.

The World Needs Love!

My most sincere apologies for delaying this post.  Though I have enjoyed the procrastination, I finally managed to write something that hopefully a few people will find of interest. 

I appreciated the occasion to visit Myanmar because the very next morning we to an outreach hosting Thai Aboriginals as well as, interestingly enough, Burmese refugees.  All of which were children.  These children were so skilled and produced the most beautiful crafts.  I was actually able to procure a few things to send to my only sister Anna.  The children were by far the most lovable kind-hearted and welcoming children I have ever encoutered in any part of the world.  I wanted to stay all week with these kids because they were so thankful for a place to stay and study languages and learn skills.  They loved having foreign visitors and were so disappointed to see us leave.

These children are working and they are happy.  Many children world-wide enjoy countless hours of freedom and leisure, with only minimal if any duties and are so dissatisfied that they rarely even enjoy their lack of responsibility.  Yet here were children who were happy because they were loved.  More often than not we as adults fret and stress over finances.  If we have a child how are we going to do this? How will we pay for that mWhat will we do when ect.?  But in all my travels and of all the children I have met I am beginning to realize more and more that the most content, most pleasant, and even the most successful children are those who have love.

Of course they may never live in a huge home or win a Nobel Prize, but they experience success in their lives doing whatever trade and hobbies are to their taste.  Senior American citizens often confess to me, “We were poor, but we were happy.  We had each other and we all loved each other.”  They grew up in a time when family was what mattered—not money!

I recal an instance several months into living in Rio de Janeiro when Austin and I decided to explore the local community for a pool that had been mentioned.  Having finished a recent project it seemed a perfect opportunity for a leisurely afternoon.

We quickly made our way through the streets and soon found our destination.  As we sat enjoying the warm sun and cool water our quiet solitude was abruptly interuppted by the sound of kids with whom we had played nearly everyday.  This truly was their novelty.  Seeing the ‘gringos’, not at school, but with them at the pool.  After playing and swimming they wanted to show us every detail of their world.

They found insects, introduced us to a new fruit, picked flowers (I should tell you the pool is situated at an abandoned railroad station).  As we explored the ruins, many courtyards, rusted train cars, all of which were overtaken with weeds and jungle undergrowth.  The once concrete floors and high ceilings were broken up and pulled down.  It really is an interesting place in retrospect.

The boys inevitable intrduced us to a dandillion.  We in response told him of the American tradition of wishing on the weed and attempting to blow each pedal from the flower in a single breath.  Quickly the wishing began and within a matter of seconds the very last pedal released its grip on the flower and was carried off in the gentle breeze.

Casual we asked the young boys wish.  His reply was so simple, so candid, and so sincere that I will never forget his face nor his response.

“I wished.” He began, “that you would never leave Brasil.”  He finished, as he took Austin by the hand.

We stood shocked.  We felt so meaningless. Yes, we had done some construction, and spent a few hourse a day playing games and sports with the kids.  This however, was the last thing I expected.  I had supposed he’d wish for a toy or to go to a soccer game, possibly even new shoes (If he had any I am sure they were worn and probably too small).  Yet, love, attention, and approval is the greatest need and the largest wish of this boy and children world-wide rich or poor.