Posted in Party in the U.S.A. by Anna Notario on 8/1/2010
I know I should write about re-entry.
The problem with writing about re-entry is that I have to process re-entry....
And also I sometimes don't like to do the things I should do. I'd rather sleep and make frozen bananas.
But I am doing it.
A blog is coming.
It really is.
I promise.
In the meantime, I wanted to share this with all of you.
It's our team video.
It has everything: slideshow montage with appropriate christian music. tears. nervous laughter. singing. screaming. a fight scene. a music video.... even the 'h-word' for those who keep watching.
God created me with two thumbs. I think the reason was so I could hold them both up for this film.
No animals were harmed in the making of this film.
Although Geoff's shirt did get stretched out a little bit in the fight scene.
And the milk was all gone. true story.
don't let the black screen fool you. there's more.
Journey-H.264 from Ken Virzi on Vimeo.
Also... I lost my t-shirt.
Dangit.
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Posted in Thailand by Anna Notario on 6/21/2010
Soon after our all-girl's teams had been
announced last month, my team heard about an upcoming race in Phuket. In an act
of new-team bonding, we decided we would run it together. Some of us would do
the 5k, some the 10k and Kendra and Jen would run the half-marathon. When we
arrived, however, we discovered that the cost of the race was too expensive. Most
of us didn't care that much - in reality, many of us were relieved. We'd much
prefer to layout on the beach than actually move. Jen was pretty bummed though.
There is a beautiful dam by our residence, and it
has a trail that circles around it. One lap around the trail is approximately
4.5 miles (7k), making three laps around the trail a half marathon. Jen decided
that if she couldn't partake in the Phuket half-marathon, she would make her
own dam race.
She set the date for Saturday, June 19, and
invited all of us to join her. Some of us were a bit wishy-washy at first, but
Kendra teamed up with Jen and they started to make the race a big deal. They
had t-shirts made with a race logo on it that Kendra designed. They planned a
spaghetti dinner the night before the race. They made us individual race
packets and bought ice cream for all of us after the race. The more excited
they became about it, the more we wanted to do it. It didn't take long for all
18 of us to sign up.
The race options were either a 7k or the
half-marathon. All of us except Jen and Kendra committed to the 7k. The funny
part about this is that those of us who were running the 7k acted like we were
actually running the half-marathon.
The night before the race we carbo-loaded on
bread and spaghetti. I should tell you that before the World Race I went to the
gym often and would be on the treadmill for good four or so miles. Never once
did I "carbo-load" before those workouts...they just weren't that big of a deal. But
this time was different - this was a half-marathon (even though it was really
only 4.5 miles).
 
The day of the race we all asked Jen and Kendra lots
of questions - what should we eat for breakfast? When is the latest we should eat
before the race? Is it true that we should prop our feet up for a few hours? What
stretches should we do? What does our recovery program look like? I took all of their advice to heart and attempted to
mentally prepare myself for the half-marathon (slash 7K).
Due to the heat of the day the race was set to
start at 5 o'clock in the evening. At 4:30 we all left in our running shorts
and tennis shoes and headed over to the dam. I made sure to drink lots of
water.
We lined up and took off running at the same time
- I chose the song "Don't Stop Believing" on my iPod to start me off. I would
not stop believing that I would finish this half-marathon! ...slash 7k.
Welp, I finished it (as did everyone else). We
sat in the grass and wiped the sweat off our brows as we waited for Jen and
Kendra to finish the half-marathon they were actually running. When they came
around the finish line we held up signs and cheered them on. It was a beautiful
moment - a team-bonding moment indeed.
After the race we walked home, ate, showered, and
put on pajamas. There is a cozy room in our residence - it has couches and
mattresses and a television (big whoop!) We ended our race day by watching a
movie, giving each other facials, and painting our nails. We felt like we were
in middle school again, and we loved it.
So yeah. Girl-month is pretty much rocking.
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Posted in Thailand by Anna Notario on 6/16/2010
Yesterday,
we prayer-walked a Buddhist/Hindu temple and 'Big Buddha'- the
largest statute of Buddha in Thailand. I climbed to the roof of the
first temple and watched the people down below. Men,
Women, Children, tourist, thai- so many different people searching
for something greater than themselves, and a meaning to their existence.
And I
said, "this isn't fair."
A tourist looked at me inquistively. I
smiled apologetically and he walked away, leaving me to my thoughts. It
isn't fair for so many reasons. Why does the enemy- the devil, satan,
the bad guy- whatver you want to call it- why does he get to blind
these people, keep them in bondage, and then, when they die, he gets
them in hell?
"I mean.. they're trying God... I'm
sorry God. I know I probably shouldn't question your goodness."
And I
heard him say...
"anna.
I know you. I know your heart and I know you love me. It''s okay to
process with me."
And I
was like... "God... you are so.... secure in your identity."
He
is the most secure being I have ever met. And will ever meet. He
knows He is good, and He knows His decisions are perfect.
Not
only is he secure in His idenity, but He is secure in my love for
Him. Time and time again, I hear Him say to me, "You will always
come back to me, because no one loves you like I do." "You are
mine forever." " You're addicted to me." "You need my love like you
need air" Time and time again He reminds me of His love for me, but
also of my love for Him.
This
used to confuse me... maybe it still does... but I'm realizing that I
think He does this for me. For my identity. For our relationship. I don't feel
the need to perform. I can just be me. And we can talk about how I'm
really feeling, and how I'm really doing, because it won't change our
love.
And
yes, I know I can love God better. I'm a brat. I'm the harlot from
Hosea personified sometimes. But He is the redeemer from Hosea all
the time.And that's a whole new blog.
This blog is about a new level of freedom.
I
told the girls on my team about this later, and I was like... "I
will never find a man like that on this earth."
Which,
I mean, makes sense and all, but it's all the more reason to
find my identity in God, because He's so secure in His.
And why wouldn't He be?
He is perfection. And yet He gets more perfect the more I get to know Him. I can sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute.
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Posted in Thailand by Anna Notario on 6/15/2010
Every night at these bars,
we find our girls. We ask questions, we play [lose] connect four, we
drink orange juice and coke, we talk in broken english. Sometimes we
make fools of ourselves and endure awkward situations. Sometimes we
have to watch our girls get pulled away to 'hello welcome' the men.
Sometimes our girls aren't there at all. But we keep coming back.
The point of all of this
is to ask the questions: "Do you want another way to live?
Would you change your life?"
Every night, these song lyrics pop into my head:
"Just say yes,
just say there's
nothing holding you back
It's not a test, nor
a trick of the mind
Only love"
[Snow
Patrol]
I silently beg that they would just say yes to love.
My
dear friend Holland wrote about this experience. Read until the end-
it's a happy ending about some girls who said 'yes.'
Pray
for a happily ever after.
My dear friend Holland wrote this blog. I thought I would share...
Night in and night out we overload a 10 passenger van and
make the 25 minute drive over the hill to Bangla Road. In our 'long' skirts or jeans, flip flops,
and faded shirts we traverse the overcrowded streets and alleys and dodge presumptuous
grabs from beckoning girls to find 'our girls'.
one of the side streets of Bangla Road, by day
While we've only been going to Bangla road for the last 6
nights we all have girls that we have made relationships with. These are the girls whose names we cry out to
God with, who we pray will be sitting alone waiting for us when we make it to
their bar, not off with a customer, who we spend our nights visiting, who are
our friends. We fight to see these
girls, we risk rejection and embarrassment and the fact that they generally
think we are lesbians, all to ask them to go to dinner with us or to go shopping
or get coffee. Many tears have been shed
on our part from failed appointments and broken engagements but we continue to
go see our girls, night in and night out.
Despite the late nights and exhaustion, we continue. Someone on my team commented this morning
that even when they were partying and living a crazy lifestyle back home they
never went to the bars 5 nights a week. They
would go for 'one good night' and sometimes two during a particularly exciting
week; But us, we go 5 nights a week. We
spend hours under the neon nights, nearly screaming over the pulsing music just
to ask our friends how their son was when they called that day or if they are
still tired like yesterday.
Last night you could see the exhaustion on all of our
faces. I saw more of our small groups
wandering Bangla road than I did sitting in the bars. We are worn out. At our nightly after midnight debrief, an
exhausted silence seemed to cover the room. No one really spoke of the usual triumphs and failures, they didn't'
have the energy; no one had to say they were tired either, it was understood. We just sat for a while and processed
internally, prayed, and crawled into our beds. No one woke up this morning to exercise like usual or get a jump on the
day. Until after 9:00 our bunk room
remained still.
Rejection is tiring. Bars
are tiring. Loving is tiring. Being tired is tiring. But today we got to taste the fruit of that
which is to come and it made it all worth it.
Two days a week SHE specifically opens its doors for lunch
and a time of fun and fellowship for any girl working in the bars. It is our job to invite our friends from the
bars and get their phone numbers at night. The morning of, one of the Thai women who works for SHE painstakingly
calls each girl and re-invites them to come that day and tells them where and
when they will be picked up. All we can
do is sit and wait to hear how the morning phone conversations go.
As word made it back to us, anxiety filled each of our
hearts. "Could one of my girls actually
walk through those doors today..." we all wonder to ourselves. Someone says one of Leslie's girls that broke
a dinner date last night was coming, one of Jodi's, one of Marissa's, 2 that
came the other day were coming back that Anna knows, a few were unreachable, Michelle's
was still with a customer when they called, and a few phone numbers didn't work...some
of us rejoiced while some were severely disappointed.
We all prepared for their arrival regardless.
A casual atmosphere, and a home cooked Thai meal met the
girls as they entered SHE and almost immediately I overheard one of my teammate's
whisper that two of the girls had already committed to leave their jobs at the
bar and move into SHE.
WHAT!? It actually happens? All of work isn't in
vain?
As the news continued to spread it was almost like a wave of
rest and refreshment swept over our team. So much joy filled my heart. The
thought that two girls never have to return to work captivated me.
As time went on we found out more.
Jaeb will be moving in today. Just like that, she is done with the bar
scene. She now is a resident of SHE
where she will join the other girls who have made the same decision as
her. She will be taught a trade and
receive a salary. When she decides it's
time for her to move on SHE will help her find a job using her new trade. Her
life of freedom starts now.
Pla will move in on Tuesday. She is one of the girls that came for lunch earlier in the week as well
as today. She too will leave her life at
the bar for a life of security and love. We cannot wait until her arrival on Tuesday.
Rung came to SHE earlier in the week with Pla. Since then she hasn't been back at work,
which caused my teammates that knew her a lot of worry. We heard today that she has since moved back
to her home in another part of Thailand and is living with her family. We are overjoyed that she too has left the
bar and pray that it is a permanent decision.
So today in Phuket, Thailand we are rejoicing. Pray for these 3 girls as they get an
opportunity to start a new life. And
pray that we have the energy to continue to bring hope to these bars.
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Posted in Thailand by Anna Notario on 6/8/2010
I was told a couple of 'my girls' would be coming to lunch today. I hopped into the truck with Mark to pick them up. My heart was beating like I was a child about to see Santa Claus. I wasn't told who was coming, but in my heart I knew I would see Rung and Pla.
We pulled onto the street and stopped in front of Soi Eric. I hopped out to look for them and ran straight into Rung. She was waiting with Pla and Jaeb, another bar girl.
I almost didn't recognize them in the daylight. They looked so... fresh is the word that came to mind. I couldn't really describe it.
We ate lunch with everyone, and went to English lesson. We played games, told jokes and tackled a pretty difficult puzzle. We then headed over to show them SHE, and made jewelry together. While playing with the pearls, the sun shone in through the windows, bouncing off of their faces.
They were so different in the light of day. Their laughter was genuine. Their smiles weren't forced. Their eyes weren't hiding dark secrets. I couldn't stop staring at the change in them.
We dropped the girls off, and I prayed that they would choose to work in the light.
We headed to their bar in the dark again. Rung and Pla were no where to be found, and Jaeb was on the pole. The darkness, the minidress, the pole- all trying to scream 'sexy' but really screaming 'trapped.' Her beauty was gone, back into hiding from the true darkness of the night. I ran to her, and she returned my smile.
"I come Thursday." She told me. 'I come Thursday."
"Please. Come." I said.
We left because I didn't know what else to do.
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Posted in Thailand by Anna Notario on 6/7/2010
Tonight was my second night in the
bars.
It was different than the first.
Instead of feeling hesitant and afraid, I was excited. I know Jesus.
They need to know Jesus, so let's go and do something about that. I'm
not sure when exactly the switch occured- I think Bill Johnson had
something to do with it, and worship and intercession. Regardless, I
was ready. I was excited.
We're on Bangla Rd for less then a
minute before an English guy comes up with a flyer. "How about a
normal party with normal people?" he says. "No thanks." I say
with a smile. "Do you love Jesus?" He asks. "Yeah, actually I
do." He laughs and walks away. Brandy asks: "I wonder what gave
it away?" We look at eachother's clothes and laugh.
My goal is to find Rung again. I found her, and we began an intense round of 'Jenga'- my favorite game as a child. I'm not trying to sound vain, but I'm kind of a rockstar at Jenga. I'd like to thank my mother for that, and God for creating such mad skills.
Robin playing Jenga. I don't have a camera, so I have to steal her pictures.
While playing, I invited Rung to SHE, along with her friend Pla and a couple of the other girls.Several people seemed interested about SHE. Fingers crossed, prayers in our hearts that they'll come tomorrow.
Time to go.
On our way out of Bangla Road, I find English guy and ask "How
did you know?"
"Lucky guess," he says.
I look across the street at my team. They are laughing and smiling. One of the girls is talking to a child. We do stick out here. Amongst the old men and young thai girls, the bloodshot eyes, and the broken promises... my teammates seem to be glowing.
I always say "the darker a place is, the more light shines," and I realized that I'm actually seeing it.
I turn to my new friend and say, "Welp. Gotta go join other Jesus lovers. See you later I hope."
"Yeah. Later." He says with a smile. I join my team, and begin to sing, "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine..." and laugh at how great my life is.
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Posted in Thailand by Anna Notario on 6/3/2010
Our first night in the bars.
We sang worship for a while before
heading out, changing the words to the song "How He loves Us" to
"How He loves Them- the women and the men." I finished singing
'How He loves US" because we're all in need of that love.
Prostitute, missionary, Lonely man- God loves us all.
While driving to Bangla road, I say to
Mark, our contact, "I'm not going to lie. I'm quite
nervous."
"There's be something wrong if you
weren't," he replied.
We park the car and walk towards Bangla
Road, the street where it all happens in Phuket, Thailand.
"Look for the bars where there are
plenty of women, and no men." We find one on Lion Street, and sit
down. I order a water; Brandi orders a diet coke. We look at each
other, unsure of where to begin.
"Your goal is to start conversation
with them, to build relationships with them, and, later on, if they
seem interested, invite them to SHE."
How do we begin a conversation?
"Hi. What's your name?" I say to
the girl on my right. She looks at me like I speak a completely
different language. Oh wait. I do. She knows about ten words of
English; I know about ten words of Thai,
"Now what?" I say to Brandi. She
shrugs.
"God please bring someone who speaks
English."
A few minutes later, the bartender
walks up, and asks us where we're from. We talk pleasantries in
broken English for a few minutes, and then she takes out a few games
for us to play. We play games for a while, and then head to the next
bar.
I'm less nervous now, but still unsure
of what to do.
We head into a pub in Tiger street.
While there, I meet a girl named 'Rung.'
She sticks out to me because
she is wearing almost no makeup- a stark contrast from the masks the
other women usually wear. She is 25 years old, has a DEGREE in
marketing, and... has only been here for two days.
So, that explains
it.
She's sweet and naive, and laughs freely and genuinely when she's
embarrassed by her lack of English. She has no friends, and no
boyfriend because he left her for another girl. When it's time to
leave, I tell her that I hope to see her again. She smiles wide and
says 'me too.'
I glance back at her on my way out. She
is speaking to one of her co-workers. I am amazed at how young she
looks in comparison. I wonder- how long will she stay sweet? How long
will she stay genuine? How long until she masks her face with
make-up? How long until she is on the counter dancing around the
pole?
How long until she finds a way out?
Will she find a way out?
After we head out of that bar, we pass
by the ''lady boys' whose dancing has drawn a very large crowd. I
watch the men, women, and families as they watch the confused men in
amusement. "She looks so real" I hear one say. Another one points
at one's pants and says, "wonder where he's got that hidden,"
which is met with several laughs from the crowd.
I pass a man old enough to be my
grandfather who is clutching the breasts of a woman young enough to
be his great-granddaughter.
While trying not to stare at that, I
bump into an English teenager, who giggles drunkenly before heading
back to dance down the street with her sister, as their parents walk
behind; it appears they are almost as drunk as their daughters. A
line from a Snow Patrol Song pops into my head, "Please come
save me from this darkness, from this emptiness, please come save
me."
We turn the street off of Bangla road
and I am exhausted. I want to go to sleep. I want to wake up out of
this nightmare into a world where such loneliness and emptiness
doesn't exist.
But this isn't a dream. This is the
reality on Bangla Road.
A reality I didn't know about until a
few hours ago.
But, there's a greater reality:
Prostitute, missionary, Lonely man- God loves us all. That's a
reality they don't know yet.
And that's why we're here.
They need prayer.
We need prayer. I'm tired, and I have
that feeling like I need to cry but the tears aren't coming. I know
the joy of the Lord is my strength, but right now I feel so
broken-hearted.
How can I do this every night?
But, then again, how can I not do this?
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Posted in Cambodia by Anna Notario on 5/31/2010
One of my favorite things
about the race is meeting new people.
I
love how 'same same but different' people are, and I believe that every person is a unique piece that fits into the puzzle of love that God is.
Last month, I met
four more puzzle pieces: Cecil, Heisui, Shalom, and Ellen. These
women run the 'Youth Development Center' in Kampang Cham, Cambodia.
They are all single women (Although Heisui is getting married soon!)
from different countries who have God's heart for Cambodia.
Cecil founded this
center almost two years ago, and now these four women run everything-
from teaching English lessons to setting up medical missions to
fixing rusty bike tires. Their stories tell of loss and redemption,
of pain and love, and their lives reveal our God.
Through Ellen, God
revealed that His ways are higher than ours. Ellen came to Cambodia
for a short-term trip, but stayed when she saw the need there.
Through Shalom, God
revealed that He is the coincidence. Shalom is from Vietnam, and
there just so happens to be a large population of Vietnamese people
in Kampang Cham who need the love of Jesus.
Through Heisui, God
revealed that He is the redeemer. Through the loss of her fiance, she
learned to rely on her first love (Jesus). Now, God has brought
redemption and joy, and she's getting married at the end of this
year.
Through Cecil, God
revealed that hope in Him is never in vain. She was the one who
founded the center from scratch. It was lonely and discouraging at
times, but she kept her hope in the Lord, and stayed obedient to his
voice, and He never let her go.
They all have different stories with the same theme: God called me, I came, and it's been hard. Thee have been
moments of insecurity, doubt, loneliness, and frustrations. But God is good; He is faithful; He is worth it.
Please keep these
incredible women in your prayers. They need more teachers and more
resources. Word about the YDC has spread and there are already 300
people on the waiting list to get into the next classes. They are
making a huge impact in this community, and they definitely impacted
me.
On our last evening
there, we gave them scarves, and they gave us t-shirts: 
Ellen, Cecil, Shalom, Heisui, and Sreyda , who volunteered to translate with us.
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Posted in Cambodia by Anna Notario on 5/20/2010
Cambodia. May 20. 2010.
Teacher.... how ol r you?
Hmm... Do I tell him the truth? He's
probably older than me. Will it jeopardize my credibility? Crap. I'm a
missionary; I shouldn't lie.
"I'm twenty-two." I say,
confidently, or with what I think is a confident voice.
There is laughter from several of the
guys in the back, and a couple of them start slapping eachother. I
tell myself this is a gang ritual, not encouragement to make a move
on me, and continue with my lesson.
I am 'Teacher' this month. Our ministry
involves teaching English to university students. I wasn't sure what
I thought about this at first. How am I qualified to teach English?
"Well. You SPEAK English, so you're more qualified than them."
Hmm... just because I'm 'more qualified' to teach English doesn't
really mean that I'm 'qualified, but okay, and I dove into teaching.
I have my own class. I have my own
students. I have my own whiteboard markers that never work. I am
teacher, and I am actually really enjoying it.
Heisui, one of the women here, asked me
if I would come back to Cambodia longterm to teach English. I thought
about it: It's hot here, and I'm tired of sweating and pollution, and
running from stray dogs and getting sick from the water. I told her I
didn't really feel called to Cambodia, because... I would never WANT
to live here.
Today, during teaching, Geoff shared
the gospel. One of the students asked what Geoff wanted to do with
his life, and he said he wanted to be a youth pastor, and talk about
Jesus. 'Do you know who Jesus is?' Some nods, some confused faces.
"Well, it's time to go now, and you can leave, but, if you want to
stay, I can tell you about Jesus for a few minutes." No one leaves,
and Geoff shares the good news with our students.
While he's speaking, I'm sitting there, so excited that I
could burst, silently praying for him. I look at some of the
kid's faces and see a couple of them get it. Something clicked, and
there was a fire in their eyes. My heart was burning with theirs, and
I realized that this is what makes it worth it.
Worth two weeks of diarhea.
Worth sweating so much I slide off my
bike.
Worth waking up in the middle of the
night to vomit.
Worth vertigo and motion sickness.
Worth anything and everything.
I have the opportunity to tell people
about Jesus. My Jesus. I get to hold children like God does. I get to
tell forgotten women about the one who wants to love them
unconditionally. I get to tell broken men that God will make it
right.
Misty Edwards has this song called, 'I will waster my life' and the chorus says, "I am in love with you; there is no cost,"
My life isn't a sacrifice, it's a privilege. I know the source of love, and I get to share it.
Yeah, I complain. I get annoyed and
tired and act entitled, and sometimes count the minutes until I step
foot inside a Target, but today, looking at the light in the
student's faces, I realize- I would go anywhere to see that light.
Because it's all about Jesus, and God being reconciled to people. It
doesn't matter where, what, or when... to see that look in someone's
eyes--- that's what makes it worth it.
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Posted in Cambodia by Anna Notario on 5/19/2010
May 3, 2010.
Phnom Penh, Cambodia. It's hot here. I
think it's hotter than Texas. Not as hot as Houston, because I
sometimes wonder if houston would give hell a run for it's money
heat-wise,but it's still hot. It is like
banana-stand-with-no-A/C-and-four-crockpots-on-high-hot here.
Seriously.
"Did you just shower?"
"No I just walked up a flight of
stairs."
laughter.
"No. seriously."
"....... that's..... gross."
"Yeah."
We've been in Phnom Penh for a few
days. The past two days, we've been working with children who are
labeled 'at-risk' of being trafficked. We've done home visits,
cleaned lice out of their hair, shared the gospel, taught english and
played what I like to call 'chaos'- a game that begins with thirty
children, numerous balls, lots of noise, and no rules, and ends with
laughter, bruises, and hopefully no broken bones.
What has touched me the most about
these past two days is how sweet the children are. They are
affectionate and eager to learn. They love to laugh and hug and play
and dance and sing. I've loved being with them.
Towards the end of the day, I was
writing different words on the whiteboard with Kluy, a boy that I am
especially fond of. He wrote "I love you" on the board. I smiled
and gave him a little side hug. He's such a sweet, affectionate kid. As we were doodling, I began to pray
for him. I prayed for provision and protection. I prayed that he
wouldn't be trafficked. While praying, tears filled my eyes: tears of
sadness that turned into fury.
Human trafficking is a big deal. There
is an estimated 27 million people enslaved. When I first heard about
it, I was shocked that it existed. How could people enslave other
people? How could grown men rape children? How could this be
happening and I had never heard of it?
I lead a prayer hour for human
trafficking back home. We met once a week to pray for different
countries and different people. I would research the country to find
specific areas that we needed to pray for. It was hard. We would cry
for these people that were so far away. But, they were far away.
Statistics that were horrifying and sad, but, in the end, just
numbers.
Today, those statistics met faces.
It became real to me today. As I looked
into Kluy's smiling face, I wanted to wrap my arms around him, to
hold him, to shield him, to protect him. He's not just a face that
appears on my computer. He's not just a picture that I have printed
out. He's a child. With the same hopes and dreams as the children
that I love back home.
Tears slipped down my cheeks as I
looked at him. He smiled, put his small arms around me and squeezed
with all of his strength. I guess he was trying to squeeze the
sadness out, or squeeze his happiness in.
"Oh Kluy," I said, "Jesus loves
you so much." I wrapped my arms around him, and squeezed with some of my strength. I guess I
was trying to squeeze the statistic out, or God's hope in.
His smile got even wider, and my
squeeze got even tighter. I love this little boy that I have only
known for a few days, but I know that Jesus loves him more.
To read more about human trafficking,
visit my teammate Michelle Johnson's blog, "I am an abolitionist."
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