I already find myself feeling distant from our days of biking, from the “official” days of BMAsia. Then again, I’m still in China, still traveling with a bike box, still wearing the same pair of shorts I’ve packed all the way from Phnom Penh. As my last several days here in Chengdu, China wind to a close, I’m consumed with all sorts of thoughts — a mish-mash of reflections, lingering observations, growing questions and appreciations, and, of course, looking ahead, anticipating adjustments, new seasons in life.

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Around the 20^th of May, BikeMovement Asia participants were in a rural village just outside of Ubon, Thailand. It must have been a Saturday when we biked out there from Det Udom and arrived dripping with sweat, but in good spirits. This part of (northeastern) Thailand struck us as extremely hot and treeless after the cooler mountains of Laos, and I remember that morning seeming like that same ol’ hot Thailand. The shade of the cow barn, where we parked our bikes, seemed oddly inviting. I remember anticipating a mildly miserable day. We were told we’d be helping to mix and pour cement, both of which I’d done before, but never in such heat. Turns out though, that we were pouring a floor and the building was already roofed – which means it was at least twenty degrees cooler than working in the direct sunlight. Regardless of the shade to work in, the lively villagers to engage, and the delicious food they kept asking us to eat – they killed two ducks for us to eat! – I got sick and didn’t really think about much except drinking and sleeping that day. So most of this is retrospective, and maybe – consequently – a little rosier than the way things actually are/were, or maybe not.

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I just finished reading Catfish and Mandala: A Two-Wheeled Voyage Through the Landscape and Memory of Vietnam by Vietnamese-American author Andrew X. Pham. This autobiographical novel weaves together tales from his childhood, spent first in Vietnam, then in the United States after his family (affiliated with the Southern government) were forced to flee as refugees when Saigon fell to the Northern Communist forces, with experiences from his recent return to Vietnam. Pham was also travelling by bicycle, from Saigon to Hanoi, on a solitary journey, a quest to rediscover his past, in the hopes of finding answers, finding insight into his current struggles, into the dysfunction and pain in which his immigrant family has been so continuously wrapped.

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I’m thinking about stories because of the Young Anabaptist Radicals website. We, as young Anabaptists, are doing good work on that website. Most of the work, it has recently been pointed out, is analytical. Resultantly, there has been a flurry of discussion about the importance of story and some sharing of the stories themselves. I’m thinking about global Anabaptism because I’m cycling around Southeast Asia and talking with people about Anabaptism – well, more often, Christianity, but I’ll get to that. This post is about stories, but it’s still analytical in content…‘so there,’ or ‘sorry’…here’s what I’m thinking: (more…)