When I was in Cambodia 5 years ago, I was shocked to learn that those responsible for the genocide under Pol Pot had never been brought to justice.

I was recently reminded of this when I heard a great Public Radio International program featuring a Cambodian poet who had survived the anti-intellectual regime. Listen here:
U Sam Oeur performs his poetry on PRI
(from a longer segment)

Justice remains elusive in Cambodia today, but at least trials are scheduled for later this year.

Happy Easter, everyone! Micah turned 2 months old on Easter Sunday. We had a great time celebrating (both events) with Sarah’s family in Gig Harbor. I think we have actually spent some time there every weekend for the last 6 weeks. Micah loves getting to hang out with Grandma and Grandpa Riggio.

In these 2 month, Micah has already been changing so much. He can hold his head up now, and is just starting to interact with toys and inanimate objects around him. And he keeps growing — longer, fatter, smarter!

I heard it said that “The days and nights may drag, but the weeks will fly by.” Sarah and i have found this to be very true. We are experiencing entirely new types of time distortions.

So, on to the photos! It has been an exciting time for Micah. He got to spend time with some East Coast grandparents when my dad and his wife came out to visit. It was wonderful to see them, and to get to introduce them to our little guy. Micah’s middle name is Glock, my father’s family name.

Week 4 Photo Album

On a recent weekend in Gig Harbor, Grandma Riggio got to help give Micah a bath in the sink. Parts of it he loved, parts he wasn’t so sure about, and some parts he surely disliked. His facial expressions make it all so clear!

Week 6 Photo Album

Enjoy!

at long last, photodocumentation of the last 30 hour is now yours for the viewing. we were prepared for newborn funkiness, but i don’t think it is just my bias in insisting he is a cutie.

He was born at 6lbs, 13oz, and 18″ long. he has currently lost 3% of his body weight, which is very normal. he continues to pass the full battery of tests with flying colors, and will be on his way home tomorrow (saturday). but that’s a whole ‘nutha post.

without further ado…

newborn cuteness!

(you can view as a slide show with the play button in the corner. can you believe we were all that small?)

um, oh yeah, right… blogging…

Seattle had 2 large marches in response to the new nation-wide discussion on immigration reform, one last month, and one yesterday. Sarah and I participated in both. Both conveniently started in our back yard, and went straight into downtown.

There are currently 5 different reform proposals before the house, with a wide range of ideas on how to handle the many facets of this issue. The two biggest issues seem to be calling for useful paths to citizenship, and protesting the potential felonization of undocumented workers, and those who assist them. These issues really hit a chord with people in Seattle. At the April 10th march, 5000 people were expected. Twenty thousand came. And there were even more there yesterday - as many employers gave thier workers time off to attend, recognizing how important it is to have this labor force.

While I’m no expert, it seems to me that USA’s global policies create a strong economic differential between ourselves and our southern neighbors. Since the institution of NAFTA, illegal immigration has tripled. Things are getting worse in Mexico and Central America, and getting better here. Dumping our cheap products (like gov’t subsidized corn) has wrecked local economies and left people with few options. So they come north, and pay all they have for the chance to risk their lives, be separated from their families, live as outlaws, and just maybe find some work to send money home to their loved ones.

Our response to this is incredibly duplicitous. On one hand, we build walls, fences, use armed guards and helicopters, high-tech gear and trained soldiers to try to keep people out. Then, for those who make it, we gladly offer jobs, thankful for the abundance of low wage workers that keep so many sectors of our economy affordable. So, yes, reform is needed to put an end to our inconsistent approach. Programs like AgJobs provide ways for people to work here legally, and ways for workers to become citizens. It has been before Congress for years now, and hasn’t made it yet. Thankfully most of the (reasonable) current options have a similar provision.

This debate is far from over. Your voice is needed to call for a responsible, neighborly outcome. Please learn more, inform others, and speak to your representatives. Are they representing your perspective?

Learn more and get active at networklobby.org.

I took some pictures at the first rally. The first photo is out my apt window, of the gathering crowd. Mia was a hit on the march. I was drawn to photographing the kids who were there. It was just so obvious that the families were there for their kids. Please pardon the blurry or tilted pictures… I’m still learning my camera. Until i get a real photo album set up, pictures are here: webmonk.net/photo/immigration-rally/.

We did it. After what felt like just a few moments among the amazing people of the Hindu-Kush mountains and what felt like two weeks on airplanes, I have safely returned home. It is such a relief to be reunited with my Bride.

The trip was simply amazing. Neither words nor the dinky pictures i took with my camera phone will be able to adequately communicate all that i experienced (but as a teammate demonstrates, a camera is enough to engage a small army of children!). I’m hoping that the stories i share here over the next few days are able to communicate some small elements of the truths i learned, the beauty of the people i met, what was accomplished, and what remains.

We did it — the various teams worked to get hundreds of shelters built through out the earthquake zone. We got the materials we needed. We beat the snow. We kept an emphasis on developing relationships with the locals. We trained them in the construction. Lives will be saved. Thank God.

My team (including Jon W) spent two days bending pipes to be used in shelter construction, and then about a week in a mountain valley helping villagers set up the shelters. We returned Monday to Phoenix, AZ for a debrief.

The Pakistani people are not terrorists. They are not nuclear war mongers. They are not stoic, unfriendly, or hateful. While i always doubted these negative stereotypes, I had nothing with which to replace them. Before i found out first hand, i believed these lies (at worst), or forced myself to think blankly about Pakistanis and other middle easterners (at best).

But now I have real faces with names, real stories and lives, real interactions and experiences that give me a much more factual and positive picture of who exactly it is who lives in Pakistan. I am very grateful for this, and hope that some of this alternative vision is communicated as i share my stories in future posts.

Stay tuned for more soon!

This past weekend, my beautiful wife and I organized what is becoming an annual fall camping trip near this little-slice-of-Bavaria town called Leavenworth .

We had a great fire going, thanks to my brother chopping up lots of wood with my new Gerber hatchet. Sarah’s parents were even able to join us. We told jokes, had some Russian Quaalude and beers, roasted hot dogs, made s’mores, and generally had a good time.

The next day, after a tasty and assorted breakfast, we broke camp and headed into town for the Oktoberfestivities. This mostly involved taking advantage of the free samples at the cheese and chocolate shops, a lunch of beer and brats, and generally celebrating all things Autumnal.

We rounded out the day with a hike in the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest. The trail was beautiful, running alongside a great twisty and tumbly creek. We were able to cross the creek dry thanks to an awesome Lincoln-Log-type bridge.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend enjoying Fall colors and traditions. We made it back with a box of apples that Sarah will sauce (her recipe is gonzo-good!) and campfire-smelling clothes to keep us in the Oktoberfest spirit.

Sarah and I recently saw a great exhibit at the Washington History Museum: CAPTURE THE MOMENT: The Pulitzer Prize Photographs.

There were, of course, many awesome photographs — Classic images of wars, significant presidencies, international crises, as well as joyful moments, celebrated lives, and great accomplishments. As photojournalism should, these pictures not only captured the moment, but could often sum up the entire context and emotional state of an event, people group or nation. Each photo was presented enlarged, with the story of how the photographer got the shot, and her/his reflections on the picture.

I’ve been thinking about this one lately:

The description talked about how many of the people in this homeless community in Philadelphia viewed themselves as “The Last Free Men”, having broken free from social enslavement, corporate bondage, and conformative norms and pressures. I love how the man above is defiantly “parked” directly under the sign forbidding it.

The homeless woman standing outside my car window always make me feel a little uncomfortable. Why? It is not a matter of who they are or how they look; rather it is what being in proximity to another member of humanity (who has no car, home, clean clothes, job, bank account, etc) reveals about me. Her very life is a subtle judgement on what remains of my worldly value system.

While my mind works to defend my own levels of “social enslavement”, i have to recognize that there is some challenging Truth to their claim. I struggle to let tomorrow worry for itself. I seek to provide for myself (and nearly solely myself and Sarah) food and clothing. I am constantly tempted to value people based on how well they speak, dress, or otherwise perform within the social system. In too many ways, i have let the world conform my life and my mind, rather than my Jesus, who had no place to lay his head.

Jesus, as a transient, lived radically outside the repressive systems of his day. And even more radically, he called the world to join him.

So, while i am not about to take Sarah, and move out onto the streets, and while i’m sure most homeless people are not there by choice and would indeed love to re-integrate with society, I find that i am thankful that they are visible in my city and in my neighborhood. I’m thankful for the reminder that life can indeed be lived without all that i cling to — i am not my bank account, i am not my fucking khakis. I’m thankful that they make me uncomfortable. And i’m thankful that they provide a direct way for me to interact with and love the one i call Lord, who still identifies with the smelly, rag-covered, homeless of Seattle.

And so it begins.