"It's an old Sanskrit word which means "one who lives at the border"...literally, a person who had left the bustling center of worldly life for the forest where the spiritual masters lived...who lived in sight of both worlds..." -Elizabeth Gilbert, in Eat/Pray/Love
"If I was old, I might have it together, if I was young that would be my excuse...I'm somewhere in the middle...so tell me when will I know where I fit into the scheme of things?" -Jill Phillips
"And they admitted they were strangers and aliens on the earth." -Hebrews 11:13
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
journal excerpt #4 [DR]
After a morning of home visits, translation, and prayer, I spent our siesta time Wednesday cutting out hearts with Emily for a craft activity that afternoon for VBS. (We were doing Joseph's story, with a love your enemies theme.) One of the hearts I cut out freehand turned out so awful that I named it the "evil heart". This of course sent Emily and I into fits of laughter, which we tried to keep to ourselves as the other girls were sleeping.
Everyone is trying really hard, building relationships, using their Spanish (no matter how much they know), and persevering through illness, sore muscles, and bad medicine combos.
VBS started out great. We taught the kids several new songs (one of which we even sang in a round), and Bianca and Emily did a great job reading the story while I asked the kids questions. The kids were amazingly attentive and answered everything I asked! Things started going downhill, however, when we started the games and the craft. Suddenly there was pushing and shoving, yelling, stealing of crayons...it was just a mess. I might have been able to deal with it all if it hadn't been for the fight (pulling of hair and attempted punches thrown) that broke out at the back of the church right before we were to close in prayer. Some of the older kids broke it up, but I was done. It took everything I had to lead the closing prayer, dismiss the kids, and walk out without completing losing control. My face, though, could not hide how crestfallen, angry, and frustrated I was. After spending an hour talking about love, a fight breaks out in the middle of the church.
After I talked to Fior (FH/DR staff), she decided the kids needed to experience some consequences, so we didn't go out to play with them that night. I felt really bad, because I knew that it was many of the well-behaved kids who were outside waiting for us. Byron and I had a long talk that evening, which really helped me cope with the situation. And he shared an important realization with me, "Imagine how God feels every day when we break His heart with our actions."
It's been a hard day, but tonight I am so grateful for my dear old friend.
Everyone is trying really hard, building relationships, using their Spanish (no matter how much they know), and persevering through illness, sore muscles, and bad medicine combos.
VBS started out great. We taught the kids several new songs (one of which we even sang in a round), and Bianca and Emily did a great job reading the story while I asked the kids questions. The kids were amazingly attentive and answered everything I asked! Things started going downhill, however, when we started the games and the craft. Suddenly there was pushing and shoving, yelling, stealing of crayons...it was just a mess. I might have been able to deal with it all if it hadn't been for the fight (pulling of hair and attempted punches thrown) that broke out at the back of the church right before we were to close in prayer. Some of the older kids broke it up, but I was done. It took everything I had to lead the closing prayer, dismiss the kids, and walk out without completing losing control. My face, though, could not hide how crestfallen, angry, and frustrated I was. After spending an hour talking about love, a fight breaks out in the middle of the church.
After I talked to Fior (FH/DR staff), she decided the kids needed to experience some consequences, so we didn't go out to play with them that night. I felt really bad, because I knew that it was many of the well-behaved kids who were outside waiting for us. Byron and I had a long talk that evening, which really helped me cope with the situation. And he shared an important realization with me, "Imagine how God feels every day when we break His heart with our actions."
It's been a hard day, but tonight I am so grateful for my dear old friend.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
journal excerpt #3 [DR]
Thursday, 1pm
After lunch Tuesday there was only one latrine foundation to do, so I switched to VBS crew (Courtney, Carlos, Susie, Marshall, and Bianca), where we started off with a "silent game" to at least attempt to maintain a little more order than the day before. I basically played a supporting role--helping with a human knot game, singing along with the kids, and praying at the end. It was pretty exhausting, and I wound up skipping out on post-VBS play time to hang out with Susie and debrief the day a bit, after which we had a riot taking bucket showers in our bathing suits together. [I love Burt's Bees! Thank you, Susie!] Later I went back outside to catch the end of the baseball game and I found myself with my arms around two children thinking, this is what it is all about.
Sometimes the kids are frustrating and sometimes they break my heart, but Jesus looked with compassion on the crowds who were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. And that's what I most need to remember.
Our team devo that night was about being laborers and the differences between how Jesus' disciples were sent out and how we are sent out today. "Jesus sent them with a message, not a project," I commented. "Perhaps we undervalue our message," said Craig.
That night as we all tried to fall asleep, there was a racket coming from the house behind the school and Courtney said, "I will go pay them $10 now and $20 in the morning if they will just turn off that #&*@ radio. [She never did.] At some ridiculously early hour, the roosters began crowing, and the screeching pig wasn't far behind.
Needless to say, we were all pretty tired that day. And it was going to be the hardest yet.
After lunch Tuesday there was only one latrine foundation to do, so I switched to VBS crew (Courtney, Carlos, Susie, Marshall, and Bianca), where we started off with a "silent game" to at least attempt to maintain a little more order than the day before. I basically played a supporting role--helping with a human knot game, singing along with the kids, and praying at the end. It was pretty exhausting, and I wound up skipping out on post-VBS play time to hang out with Susie and debrief the day a bit, after which we had a riot taking bucket showers in our bathing suits together. [I love Burt's Bees! Thank you, Susie!] Later I went back outside to catch the end of the baseball game and I found myself with my arms around two children thinking, this is what it is all about.
Sometimes the kids are frustrating and sometimes they break my heart, but Jesus looked with compassion on the crowds who were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. And that's what I most need to remember.
Our team devo that night was about being laborers and the differences between how Jesus' disciples were sent out and how we are sent out today. "Jesus sent them with a message, not a project," I commented. "Perhaps we undervalue our message," said Craig.
That night as we all tried to fall asleep, there was a racket coming from the house behind the school and Courtney said, "I will go pay them $10 now and $20 in the morning if they will just turn off that #&*@ radio. [She never did.] At some ridiculously early hour, the roosters began crowing, and the screeching pig wasn't far behind.
Needless to say, we were all pretty tired that day. And it was going to be the hardest yet.
journal excerpt #2 [DR]
Tuesday, 1pm
We arrived in La Meseta just before lunch yesterday, and after the initial period of awkwardness where the team stood together in one area of the school yard and the kids in the shade of the other building, I asked them if they wanted to play, which of course they did, so we got out the baseball equipment and the guys got a great game going while me and Emily played various forms of catch and hot potato with a group of the smaller kids until lunch time. After lunch we had a brief siesta time and then most of us headed to VBS because there was no construction scheduled for the afternoon. Even with all hands on deck, it was crazy with the 100+ kids who showed up. Our activity (tracing their hands and decorating them) took a long time, but I think the kids really enjoyed it and learned something about being made in God's image and how He loves them. One of the kids Willy helped lead singing and Neylin answered all the questions I asked about the Bible passage we read (Psalm 139).
After VBS there were kids running all over the schoolyard and trying to peek into our windows--until finally we had to change the rules and limit the play area to outside the school gate.
That night Byron led devotional and we talked about Micah 6:8 and how it's not about the stuff we bring but who we imitate (i.e. Christ) that will leave the most lasting fruit. I think it was Jim who said it best: "We don't want the kids to say, here come the Americans who give us stuff--but here come our friends who love us and whom we love."
We arrived in La Meseta just before lunch yesterday, and after the initial period of awkwardness where the team stood together in one area of the school yard and the kids in the shade of the other building, I asked them if they wanted to play, which of course they did, so we got out the baseball equipment and the guys got a great game going while me and Emily played various forms of catch and hot potato with a group of the smaller kids until lunch time. After lunch we had a brief siesta time and then most of us headed to VBS because there was no construction scheduled for the afternoon. Even with all hands on deck, it was crazy with the 100+ kids who showed up. Our activity (tracing their hands and decorating them) took a long time, but I think the kids really enjoyed it and learned something about being made in God's image and how He loves them. One of the kids Willy helped lead singing and Neylin answered all the questions I asked about the Bible passage we read (Psalm 139).
After VBS there were kids running all over the schoolyard and trying to peek into our windows--until finally we had to change the rules and limit the play area to outside the school gate.
That night Byron led devotional and we talked about Micah 6:8 and how it's not about the stuff we bring but who we imitate (i.e. Christ) that will leave the most lasting fruit. I think it was Jim who said it best: "We don't want the kids to say, here come the Americans who give us stuff--but here come our friends who love us and whom we love."
Monday, July 09, 2007
journal excerpt #1 [DR]
Due to some airline drama, I wound up being in the DR a full day before most of my team. Below are some of my reflections from that first afternoon alone in Santo Domingo.
"This afternoon I took a short walk around the area where my hotel is. I saw the palacio nacional, government offices, elegant medians adorned with beautifully landscaped plants and flowers...and as I walked through this high security, wealthy district of Santo Domingo, I was thinking about how despite my sensitivity to poverty and my anger over injustice, I was still able to appreciate the beauty of a well constructed building, a well tended garden, a series of Dominican flags, and a stone monument. I know that some of these 'beautiful' things hide truly ugly realities--the gap between rich and poor, the multi-layered corruption, the colonialism and imperialism that put this entire region at a disadvantage for centuries. Still, my theology is ingrained within me: the Lord truly can make all things new--there IS beauty for ashes, gladness for mourning. And so the beauty I saw today in the streets of the DR--not only in architecture, but in the market, in the artwork, food, sounds, and the people, like the man with a horse and cart full of pineapples--is still beauty worth appreciating.
I wonder if the eye for beauty is a survival instinct when one is surrounded by painful sights and sounds. Perhaps celebrating the beautiful and good in a hard place is the only way to maintain hope and courage.
I feel that my cultural stress here is minimal because I am navigating these two rumbos--privilege and poverty--every day in Managua and in the communities I visit. Rather than feeling "immune", I identify with Paul when he wrote about "becoming all things to all people." So I learn how to walk in the world of cars and air conditioning and fancy restaurants today and how to walk down dirt roads in chinelas, sleep on a sheet covered board, and eat gallo pinto with guajada for breakfast tomorrow.
Neither is entirely comfortable for me, so I find myself "in the middle", in a place somewhere in between gratitude for what I have been given and humility for the areas in which I know I still need to grow."
"This afternoon I took a short walk around the area where my hotel is. I saw the palacio nacional, government offices, elegant medians adorned with beautifully landscaped plants and flowers...and as I walked through this high security, wealthy district of Santo Domingo, I was thinking about how despite my sensitivity to poverty and my anger over injustice, I was still able to appreciate the beauty of a well constructed building, a well tended garden, a series of Dominican flags, and a stone monument. I know that some of these 'beautiful' things hide truly ugly realities--the gap between rich and poor, the multi-layered corruption, the colonialism and imperialism that put this entire region at a disadvantage for centuries. Still, my theology is ingrained within me: the Lord truly can make all things new--there IS beauty for ashes, gladness for mourning. And so the beauty I saw today in the streets of the DR--not only in architecture, but in the market, in the artwork, food, sounds, and the people, like the man with a horse and cart full of pineapples--is still beauty worth appreciating.
I wonder if the eye for beauty is a survival instinct when one is surrounded by painful sights and sounds. Perhaps celebrating the beautiful and good in a hard place is the only way to maintain hope and courage.
I feel that my cultural stress here is minimal because I am navigating these two rumbos--privilege and poverty--every day in Managua and in the communities I visit. Rather than feeling "immune", I identify with Paul when he wrote about "becoming all things to all people." So I learn how to walk in the world of cars and air conditioning and fancy restaurants today and how to walk down dirt roads in chinelas, sleep on a sheet covered board, and eat gallo pinto with guajada for breakfast tomorrow.
Neither is entirely comfortable for me, so I find myself "in the middle", in a place somewhere in between gratitude for what I have been given and humility for the areas in which I know I still need to grow."
Sunday, July 08, 2007
DR redux
So I'm back in Nicaragua and trying to catch up on life, the universe, and everything after a wonderful 10 days of learning and serving in the DR with new and (especially) old friends from home, but I am way too tired to write anything substantial tonight, so for now, enjoy a sampling of the pictures. More later.
p.s. The link should work now. :-)
p.s. The link should work now. :-)
Thursday, June 28, 2007
the next 10 days
Early tomorrow morning (5am to be exact) I board a bus for Costa Rica, where 12 hours later I will catch a plane that will take me through Panama City en route to the Dominican Republic, where I will spend the next 10 days serving alongside a team from my home church in San Antonio, TX in a small community near the Haitian border called La Meseta, where we will be engaged in ministry projects through FH that address both physical and spiritual needs there. It will be my 4th visit in the last 5 years, and I could not be more excited to have the opportunity to see old friends from home and kids that remember my name without ever having to ask me.
This great adventure, however, means that I will be away from this blog until Sunday, July 8th. I will miss you, my faithful online readers (all 5 of you), but I promise lots of good stories and photos when I return.
3 John 13-14
This great adventure, however, means that I will be away from this blog until Sunday, July 8th. I will miss you, my faithful online readers (all 5 of you), but I promise lots of good stories and photos when I return.
3 John 13-14
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
it's not just about the money
"Pobreza no es sólo falta de ingresos, pobreza es no tener poder, no tener acceso a las autoridades, no poder influir en nuestro destino, no tener iguales derechos que otros”.
...
"Poverty is not just a lack of income; poverty is to lack power, to lack access to the authorities, to be unable to influence one's own destiny, to not have the same rights as others."
...
(Quote from a Swedish development worker,
Monday, June 25, 2007
juggling?
Yes, juggling. I thought I had seen everything on the interlocal buses (live chickens, people singing, selling everything from tamales to soda to baked goods, kids begging, etc), but I was wrong.
Today, in the middle of my trip home from Chinandega, a man got on the bus with another one of those stories about how he was trying to make money to get somewhere to visit a sick relative, and I assumed he was going to sing. But after he finished telling his story, he said, "I hope you will like what I am going to do." And what did he do? He proceded to take 3 limes out of his pocket and juggle them--in the aisle of a moving bus on a Nica highway! And not just your standard 3 limes up in the air; oh no, this guy was swinging them down and under his legs, switching up his throwing rhythm, you name it. He was a professional! So I try to make it a rule not to give people money here, but this guy definitely earned his living this afternoon, and I could hardly help myself from grinning when I handed him a small donation.
Just another example of how there is never a dull moment in this land of lakes and volcanoes...and jugglers!
Today, in the middle of my trip home from Chinandega, a man got on the bus with another one of those stories about how he was trying to make money to get somewhere to visit a sick relative, and I assumed he was going to sing. But after he finished telling his story, he said, "I hope you will like what I am going to do." And what did he do? He proceded to take 3 limes out of his pocket and juggle them--in the aisle of a moving bus on a Nica highway! And not just your standard 3 limes up in the air; oh no, this guy was swinging them down and under his legs, switching up his throwing rhythm, you name it. He was a professional! So I try to make it a rule not to give people money here, but this guy definitely earned his living this afternoon, and I could hardly help myself from grinning when I handed him a small donation.
Just another example of how there is never a dull moment in this land of lakes and volcanoes...and jugglers!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
day in diria
Diria is one of Nicaragua's "Pueblos Blancos" (White Villages), a group of small communities to the southwest of Managua, each known for some particular artisania (furniture, plants, chimes, pottery, etc). They all have really fun names that reflect their indigenous heritage--Masatepe, Diriomo, San Juan del Oriene, Niquinohomo, Catarina--and the old arts of folk dance and black magic are also said to be alive and well there.
My friend Wendy and I's afternoon trip to Diria was motivated by something else, however: a chance to see a spectacular view of the famous Laguna de Apoyo (a crater lake formed where dormant volcano lies) from another mirador (much less commercialized than the other one everyone goes to), and a chance to hike down to the shore to swim in its cool and refreshing water. There is no development on this side of the Laguna--just a small sandy beach and lots of trees. Gorgeous! We got more than we bargained for with the steep incline, though, and while I was able to make it to the bottom (45 minutes or so) on my own two feet, about halfway back up after our swim I sent Wendy ahead of me to bring her car down because otherwise we might have spent 3 hours making the climb due to my poor out-of-shape heart.
The coolest thing, aside from the gorgeous view and the pristine forest all the way down the path, was the family of monkeys we encountered on the way down, who of course immediately stopped doing anything when we approached to lock their wary eyes on their North American guests. (I'm just glad I got a photo--they were so cute! One even had a small baby!)
All in all, it was a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
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