An Exploration of Culture – June/July 2024

Jun 29, 2024 | Chaplain

Cadets from the Dominican Naval Academy, Vicealmirante César de Windt Lavandier

Recently, while underway aboard the USCGC EAGLE, I embarked on a voyage to the Dominican Republic, Colombia, and Puerto Rico. It marked my inaugural visit to these captivating lands—a dream I had long nurtured. Their vibrant cultures had always beckoned to me. And as I stepped ashore, the answer became clear. The sun-drenched shores of the Dominican Republic, the vibrant streets of Colombia, and the rich history of Puerto Rico – these seemingly disparate destinations became threads in a beautiful tapestry of Afro-Caribbean culture during my unforgettable visit. Each location offered a unique perspective on the profound influence of African traditions on music, dance, and even cuisine.

In the Dominican Republic, the herencia Africana, or African heritage, became evident in the percussion instruments – the resounding beats of the tambora drum resonated with a historical energy. Even the Dominican staple, mangú, a mashed plantain dish, whispered stories of Africa, with plantains being a staple food brought over by enslaved people. Meeting the cadets of the Dominican Naval Academy, the Academia Naval Vicealmirante César de Windt Lavandier, was like encountering living chapters of a shared narrative—a testament to resilience, culture, and the unbreakable bonds that span continents and generations.

Cartagena, Colombia

Colombia pulsated with a different kind of Afro-Caribbean energy. In Cartagena, the walled city resonated with the history of slavery. Here, we were greeted by the vibrant music of champeta, a genre born from the cultural gumbo of Colombian rhythms and African beats. The frenetic energy and the use of the llamador drum, a single-headed drum of West African origin, were undeniable testaments to this heritage. As I explored the bustling plazas, the sounds of salsa spilled out from cafes, a genre with deep roots in African musical traditions.

Puerto Rico, the island paradise, did not disappoint. The bomba y plena, a genre born from the struggles of enslaved Africans, filled the air with its powerful rhythms. The fast-paced drumming and the call-and-response vocals resonated with a raw emotion that transported me back to the roots of this culture. Even the vibrant colors of Puerto Rican cuisine – the sofrito base with its achiote and recaito spices – whispered stories of African influence on the island’s foodways.

I do not think it was a coincidence that I had this experience right before the NNOA and ANSO Joint Symposium. My exploration of the Dominican Republic, Colombia, and Puerto Rico was a cultural immersion. Each place unveiled a unique chapter in the story of Afro-Caribbean culture, a testament to the enduring spirit and traditions brought over by enslaved Africans. This journey was a tapestry woven with the threads of resilience, joy, and the enduring human spirit.

Rejection is an inevitable aspect of life that we all encounter. May 2024

May 6, 2024 | Chaplain

“The stone the builders rejected
has become the cornerstone;”

Psalm 118:22

Bob Marley – Cornerstone Story

I love me some Bob Marley. His music, his swag, his message…I love it all. May 11 marks 43 years since his passing, yet his legacy endures.

Bob Marley’s legacy continues to be influential despite his imperfections. He is almost revered as a deity. True fans understand the numerous challenges and hardships that shaped Bob Marley into the icon he became. His early life was marked by rejection and poverty. His mixed-race heritage made him feel like an outsider for most of his life. His father was largely absent from his life, with Bob only meeting him a few times. A pivotal moment occurred when Bob Marley sought assistance from his father’s family. Despite his striking resemblance to them, they denied knowing him, rejecting him outright. This rejection deeply wounded Marley and served as a transformative experience. He turned a painful moment into a source of inspiration, allegedly penning the song “Cornerstone” in response to this experience of rejection.

The cornerstone, a crucial element in construction, symbolizes unity and stability. It serves to establish the foundation, ensuring that the structure stands strong, and fostering unity by connecting two walls. Essentially, the cornerstone is the glue that holds everything together. Without this stone, the entire structure risks collapsing. In the same way, Bob Marley’s music served as a cornerstone, uniting people and providing stability in a world of chaos.

Bob Marley’s music was centered around unity and holding authorities accountable. He was a highly influential figure in Jamaica and the world during his lifetime. He is renowned for his efforts to reconcile two conflicting political parties at the One Love Peace Concert in Jamaica.

Bob Marley on stage with Edward Seaga of the Jamaican Labor Party and
Michael Manley of the People’s National Party. April 22, 1978

Rejection is an inevitable aspect of life that we all encounter. It can lead to bitterness and resentment or inspire us to continue spreading love and positivity. Bob Marley experienced rejection, but he used this pain as a catalyst to elevate his name beyond his family’s reputation. In essence, Bob became the cornerstone, the pivotal element in his own life’s structure.

We are all confronted with a choice. How do we handle our pain? How do we respond to rejection? Do we let it harden us and breed bitterness, or do we use it as a catalyst for transformation and greatness? Always remember the stone that the builders refused will always be the head cornerstone.

Leave the Tomb – April 2024

Apr 3, 2024 | Chaplain

“Why seek the living among the dead?”

Luke 24:5

About 1,991 years ago, a group of courageous women arrived at a tomb with a solemn purpose: to anoint the body of their crucified leader. But they were in for a huge surprise. When they arrived at the tomb, they saw that their leader’s tomb was open, and his body was missing. As the women are shocked, confused, and afraid, they notice men in dazzling clothing. These men ask the women a strange question: “Why do you look for the living amongst the dead?” What a peculiar question.

I have a recurring dream of being in my grandparents’ house. In this dream, I am alone. I don’t know how I got there, where my family is, or when they are returning. Also, I am afraid. Around this time last year, I visited my grandparents’ house. I had not set foot inside since my grandfather’s funeral 25 years prior. I walked through the house. The rooms that once held love and life now seemed smaller, memories etched in their walls. I wandered around the house, hoping to understand my recurring dream.

How often do we return to our own places of fear and pain? Like a recurring dream, we revisit the scenes of loss, betrayal, or heartache. Yet, we find that revisiting ground zero doesn’t always fulfill our longing. The past remains, but we are called to embrace the present.

Just as the women arrived at an empty tomb and felt fear, I found myself repeatedly drawn to an empty house, my heart echoing their trepidation. The parallel is uncanny. Like the empty tomb, the empty house symbolizes more than physical space. It holds memories, echoes of pain, and unanswered questions. We return to these places of pain, seeking hope, redemption, and closure. Yet, we often find ourselves staring at remnants—the linen, the walls—wondering where the answers lie.

Why do we return to these empty places?

“Why seek the living among the dead?”

The answer is not within the tomb or, in my case, the empty house. It is outside, among the living.

It’s time to walk out of those tombs. The sun is rising, casting light on a new horizon. Fear, sadness, anxiety, anger, jealousy—they no longer define us.

In the words of Nina Simone,

“It’s a new dawn.

It’s a new day.

It’s a new life for me.

And I’m feeling good.”