I love writing random lists at the back of my notebook when I'm bored. "Baby names I like." "Things I want to do before I turn 30." "Movies I'd like to own." "Friends I want to be at my 50th birthday party." A few weeks ago, I started writing a list at the back of my notebook: "Images I don’t want to forget."
Waking up at 6 am to cumbia blasting from the neighbor’s house
Home background home noise of singing birds
The mountains on my walk to work
Sunday lunches huddled by the open fire
Painting nails, knitting, and listening to the radio on Mamá’s bed
Warm water sponge bath naked on a stool in the yard
First human contact of every day: Mamá’s voice “CHRISTINITA!!”
Washing dishes in the outdoor sink after lunch every day
Hanging clothes to dry while Mamá washes
Standing on the balcony overlooking the rooftops of Talavera while it’s raining
Pequy’s ears tilting back and forth, listening
Playing Crazy 8’s with Yordani in the store
Sharing one glass to drink chicha at lunch
Zamponias on the radio
Typing my GCP’s in my room, sitting on my chair, door open, sun shining in
Grubby hands sharing mote from a bowl
Cuddling in Mamá and Papá’s bed watching comedies I barely understand
Mamá teasing the neighbors until they end up inviting us to drink Coke with them
Yordani’s aversion to bathing – a family event
Papá’s accents – especially his pregnant woman imitation
Calling everyone tío or tía … and being called señorita
The green of the plants in our garden
Mamá bathing me in my first week here
Clothes drying on the line
Tomatillo juice fresh from the tree outside
Crowded combis, shared humanity – holding someone else’s baby
Colors of the fruit section of the Mercado
Typical dances with bright costumes and swirling choreography
Walking to church, bundled up
Singing Grupo 5 with Mily at the karaoke
The smell of eucalyptus
Kisses from strangers and friends
Guys from the office trying a hula hoop for the first time in their lives
Praying with Lupe and Ana, holding hands, sitting by a river
Julio’s face as he held his one-day-old daughter Andrea
Laughing with Raúl while translating Phil Collins and Backstreet Boys
Talking with Rudy as we lay on our backs looking at the stars
Crying with Mery as we prayed in the mornings
Watching Yasmina’s womb grow and grow
If you don’t understand some of these images … that just means you need to ask me out for coffee so I can explain them in greater depth!! ☺
I can’t believe this is my last Peru blog! (Although I'll technically still be in Peru, I won't write next Monday because I'll be traveling on my way out of the country! - plus ... we're out of alphabet letters!!) It has been enriching and satisfying to record and share my experiences this way. Thank you for reading and walking alongside me in this journey! I am so thankful for the support and love I have received from my various “home” communities (“home” has always been a confusing concept for me …). I hope to continue sharing about the last 6 months as I return to the US and get to hug and talk to you all in person!! I arrive at O’hare December 16 (!!) … and my main goal of Christmas break is to enjoy time with people I love (hm, life goal?), so if you’re in the area, please let me know!!
MUN GODE ALLAH. GRACIAS PAPITO LINDO. THANK YOU FATHER.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
YO
Quién soy yo? Who am I? This seems to be an ongoing question in my life. Do we ever really answer it? Can anyone in the world say that they really know themselves fully?
I am constantly changing. The beginning of college was a big time of identity questions for me. Maybe I thought even answered some of them. But now I am coming to the end of a 6-month period where I have been far away from who I was – thousands of miles away, but also cultures away. I’m getting a little nervous to go back to the physical place where my “self” was formed, and start figuring out once again who I am.
It has been difficult to keep a good grasp on who I am over the last almost-6-months. I was stripped of my mother tongue and often couldn’t rely on verbal skills to share with others – the form of communication that was the most comfortable for me in the past. I no longer had a close group of Christian friends around me to challenge me in my faith and to keep me accountable. I have been far away from my boyfriend who I was used to sharing every day with. And even little things: I haven’t eaten peanut butter in the last 6 months, I haven’t driven a car, I haven’t worn shorts!
Not only have things been stripped away. Things have also been added. Before living in Andahuaylas, I never knew that I like to eat yucca or listen to cumbia. I had never had a friend with whom I only spoke Spanish. I didn’t know my heart could hurt with missing someone as much as it has. I didn’t know how deeply I felt about helping hurting women.
My heart has been expanded.
It will surely be difficult to re-integrate myself into what was once familiar now that I myself am different. I am afraid that I will give in to the pressure to conform. Either that or I will become bitter in loneliness. But I am also excited. I am excited to re-experience with new eyes and a new heart what I thought I understood fully. I am excited to share with others what I have learned. I am excited to employ in my “old life” the flexibility and humility and moldability that I have been forced to adopt here in Andahuaylas.
I am excited to keep getting to know myself, my “YO”, as I continue to grow and change and learn.
Oh, and one less-transitory change I’ve gone through in the last week is a haircut. Not quite as drastic as the last one ☺ Here’s a picture of Lupe, Raúl, and me at a wedding we went to together this weekend.
I am constantly changing. The beginning of college was a big time of identity questions for me. Maybe I thought even answered some of them. But now I am coming to the end of a 6-month period where I have been far away from who I was – thousands of miles away, but also cultures away. I’m getting a little nervous to go back to the physical place where my “self” was formed, and start figuring out once again who I am.
It has been difficult to keep a good grasp on who I am over the last almost-6-months. I was stripped of my mother tongue and often couldn’t rely on verbal skills to share with others – the form of communication that was the most comfortable for me in the past. I no longer had a close group of Christian friends around me to challenge me in my faith and to keep me accountable. I have been far away from my boyfriend who I was used to sharing every day with. And even little things: I haven’t eaten peanut butter in the last 6 months, I haven’t driven a car, I haven’t worn shorts!
Not only have things been stripped away. Things have also been added. Before living in Andahuaylas, I never knew that I like to eat yucca or listen to cumbia. I had never had a friend with whom I only spoke Spanish. I didn’t know my heart could hurt with missing someone as much as it has. I didn’t know how deeply I felt about helping hurting women.
My heart has been expanded.
It will surely be difficult to re-integrate myself into what was once familiar now that I myself am different. I am afraid that I will give in to the pressure to conform. Either that or I will become bitter in loneliness. But I am also excited. I am excited to re-experience with new eyes and a new heart what I thought I understood fully. I am excited to share with others what I have learned. I am excited to employ in my “old life” the flexibility and humility and moldability that I have been forced to adopt here in Andahuaylas.
I am excited to keep getting to know myself, my “YO”, as I continue to grow and change and learn.
Oh, and one less-transitory change I’ve gone through in the last week is a haircut. Not quite as drastic as the last one ☺ Here’s a picture of Lupe, Raúl, and me at a wedding we went to together this weekend.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Xtra
Ok so x is not the easiest letter to write about (unless you just pick the lame cop-out xilófono ... which I have nothing to say about anyway). I thought about doing Generación X because of the amount of 90's music I have heard here. It is UNBELIEVABLE. I'm finally catching up on all the music I missed out on living in Nigeria during the 90's.
But I decided to just write about some EXTRAS - some random things I've been thinking about and seeing and doing.
Monday and Tuesday of this week I went to a burial similar to the one I went to in Putis (see my "Lágrimas" entry if you missed that). This time, though, it was for 9 members of a community called Cabaña who were murdered by the terrorist group Sendero Luminoso in 1983. Twenty-six years later, we were able to make the ridiculously difficult trip out to this community and help the families left behind bury their relatives. I felt so angry as we drove up to this tiny village. These people have close to nothing, and yet they were robbed of the ultimate treasures of this life: their dignity and their loved ones. We stood in the rain while the caskets were being placed into their cement resting places. It felt fitting to have tears streaming down my face as I watched two sisters I had gotten to know over the 2 days sob as they finally buried their father. It gives dignity to let people cry, and to cry with them.
I have been doing a lot of thinking about the themes of identity and dignity. It started when I began working on the self-esteem module I wrote for Paz y Esperanza. Lupe explained to me that her philosophy for fighting poverty begins with helping people see their worth. Only from there can any economic help be effective. If we don't begin there, the impoverished will only stay in the same state where they already find themselves.
Our last HNGR readings spoke about identity and dignity as well. As a Christian, I have the blessing of being able to start from identity (who I am in Christ) and move from there into dignity (what I am worth) ... rather than doing it the world's way: Look what I have done, and that will tell you who I am.
This is good news not only for the poor, but for what the readings called "non-poor" as well. I am set free from the rat-race of the world that tells me I must prove what I'm worth by being "successful"!! I can be content with knowing that God has called me worthy to die for. He loved me first and called me His child. What more do I need to prove?
This should affect my daily life in huge ways!! As I struggle to figure out life here, feeling constantly frustrated with my failures and beaten down by people always telling me what I'm doing wrong ... I can have hope that what matters, as my coworker Mery constantly reminds me, is what I do "delante de Dios" - before God! I am called to be faithful before Him. That is all.
SWEET FREEDOM!!! Oh how I want to live like I believe that.
As my time here comes to a close, it is so easy for me to look back with regret: could I have done something differently/better? ... But what if I just looked back and said "Thank You, God, for teaching me about who I am in You. I have learned that I am far from having it all together, but that You are all that I need." Isn't that the most important lesson I could have learned? Won't I continue to learn that all my life?
I want to live in the joy of my identity and dignity in Christ. I think that the truths of identity and dignity are the most important things we can offer the world: from Paulina crying at her father's grave, to the rich businesswomen stuck in her office trying to prove to herself and the world that she is worth something.
Aaaaan in the spirit of offering you something "extra" ... here's a picture to
brighten your day. Sorry it's sideways - can't figure out my computer right now. I took it at one of the ceremonies we went to in honor of the 9 Cabaña victimes. And if you can't read what the "balloon" says ... "Viva la Paz" - May Peace Live!!
But I decided to just write about some EXTRAS - some random things I've been thinking about and seeing and doing.
Monday and Tuesday of this week I went to a burial similar to the one I went to in Putis (see my "Lágrimas" entry if you missed that). This time, though, it was for 9 members of a community called Cabaña who were murdered by the terrorist group Sendero Luminoso in 1983. Twenty-six years later, we were able to make the ridiculously difficult trip out to this community and help the families left behind bury their relatives. I felt so angry as we drove up to this tiny village. These people have close to nothing, and yet they were robbed of the ultimate treasures of this life: their dignity and their loved ones. We stood in the rain while the caskets were being placed into their cement resting places. It felt fitting to have tears streaming down my face as I watched two sisters I had gotten to know over the 2 days sob as they finally buried their father. It gives dignity to let people cry, and to cry with them.
I have been doing a lot of thinking about the themes of identity and dignity. It started when I began working on the self-esteem module I wrote for Paz y Esperanza. Lupe explained to me that her philosophy for fighting poverty begins with helping people see their worth. Only from there can any economic help be effective. If we don't begin there, the impoverished will only stay in the same state where they already find themselves.
Our last HNGR readings spoke about identity and dignity as well. As a Christian, I have the blessing of being able to start from identity (who I am in Christ) and move from there into dignity (what I am worth) ... rather than doing it the world's way: Look what I have done, and that will tell you who I am.
This is good news not only for the poor, but for what the readings called "non-poor" as well. I am set free from the rat-race of the world that tells me I must prove what I'm worth by being "successful"!! I can be content with knowing that God has called me worthy to die for. He loved me first and called me His child. What more do I need to prove?
This should affect my daily life in huge ways!! As I struggle to figure out life here, feeling constantly frustrated with my failures and beaten down by people always telling me what I'm doing wrong ... I can have hope that what matters, as my coworker Mery constantly reminds me, is what I do "delante de Dios" - before God! I am called to be faithful before Him. That is all.
SWEET FREEDOM!!! Oh how I want to live like I believe that.
As my time here comes to a close, it is so easy for me to look back with regret: could I have done something differently/better? ... But what if I just looked back and said "Thank You, God, for teaching me about who I am in You. I have learned that I am far from having it all together, but that You are all that I need." Isn't that the most important lesson I could have learned? Won't I continue to learn that all my life?
I want to live in the joy of my identity and dignity in Christ. I think that the truths of identity and dignity are the most important things we can offer the world: from Paulina crying at her father's grave, to the rich businesswomen stuck in her office trying to prove to herself and the world that she is worth something.
Aaaaan in the spirit of offering you something "extra" ... here's a picture to
brighten your day. Sorry it's sideways - can't figure out my computer right now. I took it at one of the ceremonies we went to in honor of the 9 Cabaña victimes. And if you can't read what the "balloon" says ... "Viva la Paz" - May Peace Live!!
Monday, November 16, 2009
WHISKEY!!
No, actual whiskey has not been a part of my HNGR experience (although EVERYONE knows who Jack Daniels is). Just the word – quite often, actually. It’s the Spanish equivalent of saying “Cheese!” when taking a picture here! – “WHISKEYYYY!”
There are quite a few sayings, phrases, and words that I’ve had fun figuring out here … and sometimes literally translating words just doesn’t cut it. The following is a little catalogue of just a few of these expressions. Some of them are unique to Andahuaylas, others are common in all of Peru (so I’m told), others are just your average Spanish … but I must say that I was pretty excited when a Peruvian that I met in Bolivia told me I speak Spanish like an Andahuaylina!!
“Ya no ya”: At first I was so confused – does it mean yeah or no or yeah?? Well, literally, it means “now no now” … So it means no. Like if you’ve finished eating and you’re asked if you’d like more – ya no ya, I’m full.
“Salud!”: Literally means “Health!” It’s the Spanish equivalent of “God bless you” in response to a sneeze. Which makes a lot more sense to me, actually.
“Así??”: Means “thus” … or kind of like “Really?” But I swear it’s the most common response to any statement ever made here. I found my pen. Así?! I can’t find Lupe. Así?? I love you. Así???!!
“No más”: Literally means “no more” … but if someone says “Come no más” (eat no more) it doesn’t mean stop eating – it means START eating! Just EAT for goodness sake!
“Carajo!”: No literal translation here. It’s some kind of expression of being annoyed or … really an expression of any strong feeling, I think. Kind of like “Geez!”
“Pues …”: Means “Well …”, but this word is seriously used in EXCESS here. It’s a fill-in when you want to make a point, basically. Did you find her? Sí, pues. Do you want to go with me? Claro, pues. Are you you mad at me? No, pueeeeees!
“Oye!”: Can be “Hey!” or “Ouch!” or “Dog, drop the food you just put in your mouth!” I was so excited the first time that “oye!” was my genuine response to stubbing my toe ☺
“Asuuuuu …”: Probably my host mom’s most common expression. It means something like “wooooow …” … or Nigeria folk, it kind of reminds me of “kai!”
Ito/ita: Ok, this is ridiculous here. People add ita/ito to the end of EVERY noun! It is generally used to imply that something is small – like a small perro (dog) is a perrito. But here it’s not uncommon to hear someone say something like “Estita chicitita flacita está viniendo con su perrita pequeñita, que lindita!” (This little girl who is a little skinny is coming with her little dog who is a little tiny, how littely cute!) A little overboard sometimes.
Azo/aza: This is another common prefix. It’s basically the opposite of ito/ita, implying that something is HUGE. The other day on the way to work I heard a little boy go “Mira esa ALTAZA!!!” Look at that HUGELY TALL woman!! I laughed. But even better was to get a hug from a good friend who greeted me as her “amigaza” ☺
Mamá: At first I was really confused when I said “Gracias, Mamá” only to have her respond “De nada, mami.” Why was SHE calling ME mami?? Turns out everyone calls EVERYONE Mamá or Papá! It is not uncommon to hear a mother trying to calm her screaming infant son by saying “Tranquilo, Papá.”
“Porfies!”: Haha, for all of you who have been aggravated by my abbreviations in the past … imagine my excitement when I found out that I can do it bilingually!! Porfies is short for “por favor.”
Papito Lindo: One time, my host dad was asking me to translate common names for God into English. Señor? Lord, I told him. Padre? Father, I told him. Amado Dios? Beloved God, I told him. Papito lindo? Ummm … Well, literally that means something like Beautiful Daddy … but we don’t really use that one, I told him. As I reflected on it, though, I realized that I really like that one. I don’t think we really capture that view of God as “Abba” very accurately in English.
Learning another language forces you to think a lot about your own language … and to discover that when you only spoke one language, you couldn’t express certain things that you can now! It is a really enriching process … although tedious and humbling as well. Our HNGR covenant expresses the desire to see “as through the facets of a diamond, the beautiful spectrum of [God’s] light.” I am thankful that Spanish and Andahuaylan culture have revealed to me another facet of that light. Gracias, Papito Lindo!
There are quite a few sayings, phrases, and words that I’ve had fun figuring out here … and sometimes literally translating words just doesn’t cut it. The following is a little catalogue of just a few of these expressions. Some of them are unique to Andahuaylas, others are common in all of Peru (so I’m told), others are just your average Spanish … but I must say that I was pretty excited when a Peruvian that I met in Bolivia told me I speak Spanish like an Andahuaylina!!
“Ya no ya”: At first I was so confused – does it mean yeah or no or yeah?? Well, literally, it means “now no now” … So it means no. Like if you’ve finished eating and you’re asked if you’d like more – ya no ya, I’m full.
“Salud!”: Literally means “Health!” It’s the Spanish equivalent of “God bless you” in response to a sneeze. Which makes a lot more sense to me, actually.
“Así??”: Means “thus” … or kind of like “Really?” But I swear it’s the most common response to any statement ever made here. I found my pen. Así?! I can’t find Lupe. Así?? I love you. Así???!!
“No más”: Literally means “no more” … but if someone says “Come no más” (eat no more) it doesn’t mean stop eating – it means START eating! Just EAT for goodness sake!
“Carajo!”: No literal translation here. It’s some kind of expression of being annoyed or … really an expression of any strong feeling, I think. Kind of like “Geez!”
“Pues …”: Means “Well …”, but this word is seriously used in EXCESS here. It’s a fill-in when you want to make a point, basically. Did you find her? Sí, pues. Do you want to go with me? Claro, pues. Are you you mad at me? No, pueeeeees!
“Oye!”: Can be “Hey!” or “Ouch!” or “Dog, drop the food you just put in your mouth!” I was so excited the first time that “oye!” was my genuine response to stubbing my toe ☺
“Asuuuuu …”: Probably my host mom’s most common expression. It means something like “wooooow …” … or Nigeria folk, it kind of reminds me of “kai!”
Ito/ita: Ok, this is ridiculous here. People add ita/ito to the end of EVERY noun! It is generally used to imply that something is small – like a small perro (dog) is a perrito. But here it’s not uncommon to hear someone say something like “Estita chicitita flacita está viniendo con su perrita pequeñita, que lindita!” (This little girl who is a little skinny is coming with her little dog who is a little tiny, how littely cute!) A little overboard sometimes.
Azo/aza: This is another common prefix. It’s basically the opposite of ito/ita, implying that something is HUGE. The other day on the way to work I heard a little boy go “Mira esa ALTAZA!!!” Look at that HUGELY TALL woman!! I laughed. But even better was to get a hug from a good friend who greeted me as her “amigaza” ☺
Mamá: At first I was really confused when I said “Gracias, Mamá” only to have her respond “De nada, mami.” Why was SHE calling ME mami?? Turns out everyone calls EVERYONE Mamá or Papá! It is not uncommon to hear a mother trying to calm her screaming infant son by saying “Tranquilo, Papá.”
“Porfies!”: Haha, for all of you who have been aggravated by my abbreviations in the past … imagine my excitement when I found out that I can do it bilingually!! Porfies is short for “por favor.”
Papito Lindo: One time, my host dad was asking me to translate common names for God into English. Señor? Lord, I told him. Padre? Father, I told him. Amado Dios? Beloved God, I told him. Papito lindo? Ummm … Well, literally that means something like Beautiful Daddy … but we don’t really use that one, I told him. As I reflected on it, though, I realized that I really like that one. I don’t think we really capture that view of God as “Abba” very accurately in English.
Learning another language forces you to think a lot about your own language … and to discover that when you only spoke one language, you couldn’t express certain things that you can now! It is a really enriching process … although tedious and humbling as well. Our HNGR covenant expresses the desire to see “as through the facets of a diamond, the beautiful spectrum of [God’s] light.” I am thankful that Spanish and Andahuaylan culture have revealed to me another facet of that light. Gracias, Papito Lindo!
Monday, November 9, 2009
vientre
“Tú creaste mis entrañas; me formaste en el VIENTRE de mi madre.”
Salmo 139:13
I really want a baby.
Now, don’t worry, I’m not going to come home pregnant! But can you really blame me when I just went to my 3rd “babi shawer” here, I know 2 women who have given birth in the last 2 weeks, 2 women I work with in the office are 7 months pregnant, and yesterday at church we had a baby dedication?? I am surrounded by babies!! And I feel just a little bit enchanted by the idea …
The baby shower I attended was for the wife of my coworker Francisco. She almost didn’t make it to the shower because her contractions were coming so strongly! I sat next to her and just looked at her bulging belly in awe, thinking “There’s a living baby girl in there!!” In my wonder and curiosity I asked Sonya all sorts of questions. She told me she was excited to have the baby, but so nervous about the birth as well, especially being her first one. Yes, the baby moved around within her when there was music, no, Sonya didn’t have any weird food cravings. YES the contractions hurt!One of the most precious moments during the shower was when the “emcee” asked Francisco what he did during the pregnancy to help the baby develop. He told us that he told his baby girl stories, and he sang to her. Francisco then unashamedly placed his hand gently on his wife’s stomach and began to sing in Quechua about different animals, describing them and imitating their sounds. I got tears in my eyes, and just couldn’t stop thinking “There’s a living baby girl in there!!!”
Baby “Chaska” (means star in Quechua) was born the very next day.
That day, my coworker Vanessa came into the office. I smiled, remembering that when I first met her, she wasn’t even “showing” yet. I hadn’t seen her in about a month and so was shocked to see her belly looking a lot larger than the last time. My coworker Raul teased her “Vanessa, you’re PREGNANT?!!” I couldn’t help but laugh – the woman is 7 months pregnant and HUGE with child!! She told us funny stories about her pregnancy. She can’t even put her own socks on anymore, and her husband is quick to help her, and always really concerned if he’s planning on leaving the house before she does – “What about your socks?!” Vanessa didn’t want to know the sex of the baby before it’s born, but her husband was too excited and already spilled the beans that it’s a boy (she won’t believe it until she sees it). It was so fun to listen to Vanessa chat animatedly about how “inquieto” (restless) her baby is. She was glowing.
The miracle of human life fascinates me. But there are also sad pregnant women. I know one who is just a year older than I am. She hid her unplanned pregnancy for several months, and told me that she’s just short of terrified about the responsibility of having a child. Although she’s about as far along as Vanessa, her stomach is smaller, hidden. People here believe that when the mother is dreading the child, the body shows that fear.
There is also a 17-year-old pregnant girl (woman?) staying in my house right now. A 17-year-old pregnant girl with a 1 ½ year old daughter. A 17-year-old pregnant girl whose husband just got mugged, and his taxi was stolen. And many would consider her lucky that her husband is even still around. I have been shocked by the number of single mothers I’ve met during my time here.
I hope I can be a mother someday – but maybe not quite yet.
As I placed my hands on various “vientres” (wombs) this week, I found myself thinking about Psalm 139:13 – “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” That’s pretty intimate! It is such a joy to see soon-to-be-mothers marvel at the living beings within them. They can get to know them in little ways – like Sonya noticing that Chaska “danced” when there was music playing, or like Vanessa saying that her baby is already a night owl because s/he bounces around just when Vanessa lays down to go to sleep. But that baby is still quite mysterious until he or she finally emerges into the world, gasping for air and crying out to be back in that warm womb again. But God knows us to the core, before we are even a thought, or a bouncing bundle of cells within our mothers’ wombs! And He knows us that way throughout our entire lives – down to the number of hairs on our heads.
May we find freedom and joy in being known that way.
(I won't come back pregnant ... but I MIGHT kidnap Rodrigo and bring him back with me!)
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
utopía
Picture absolute tranquility. Hammocks overlooking a gorgeous lake of the purest blue. Long mornings of reading and resting, long afternoons of chats with a precious friend who loves you just the way you are. Hikes up and down steep hills, each view from the top more amazing than the last. Eating some of your favorite foods for the first time in months. A nighttime soak in a hot tub overlooking the lake. Does it get any better than that?!
Oh. And then the owner offers to bring you chocolate fondue. And you eat it. IN the hot tub. Overlooking the lake. With one of your best friends in the world.
Felt like UTOPÍA, lemme tell ya! I am eternally grateful for the last 2 weeks I got to spend with my beloved friend Emily Goldberg in Bolivia! Literally the only thing I can complain about after getting my purse stolen (still mourning the journal) is a bad sunburn due to day after blissful day of enjoying nature!! What a blessing. One of the best parts was just talking with Emily. I cried a lot, processing the frustrations of the past 5 months. She was such a great listener. And there was no pressure to do or not do anything. One of the best and most timely vacations I've ever gone on!
I'm safely back in Andahuaylas now. I spent a great weekend with my supervisor Lupe in Cusco and we took the night bus back here, arriving at 3:30am this morning. I had a certain sense of dread thinking about going back to the office. In case you haven't noticed, it's not really my favorite place to be.
But Lupe taught me something else about utopia this weekend. We were talking about a Christian response to poverty. As I mentioned in my last post, being a tourist made me think about world systems and why I have the privilege of traveling and enjoying places like Copacabana, Bolivia when others are starving ... What should we do as Christians?, I asked Lupe. She offered to me her testimony. Before she became a Christian 2 years ago, her life looked pretty different. Her two daughters wanted for nothing - beautiful homes in Paris and Ecuador, designer clothes, lovely gardens, great education ... but now, 2 years later, Lupe lives in Andahuaylas, the poorest part of Peru, in a small apartment with no hot water, unpainted walls, no telephone, and borrowed furniture. Her daughters tell her they're worried about her. "But Christine," she told me with tears in her eyes, "I'm not lonely anymore. I know that my real home is with the Lord, and He is always with me. I used to be lonely, but now I'm not!"
Copacabana felt pretty close to utopia. I wished the whole time that my family, Luke, and other friends could share it with me. But will I ever be fully satisfied on this earth? I may never feel like Andahuaylas is utopia ... but I have an eternal home with the Lord that gives me the freedom to live a life full of joy wherever I am. May that truth penetrate our souls with a deep peace that passes understanding!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
torta, turistas, y trauma
I´M IN BOLIVIA!! Last Wednesday night, I took an overnight bus to Cusco and caught a morning flight to La Paz. As I walked out through security and caught sight of my precious friend Emily Goldberg, my feet were compelled to SPRINT to her! We hugged for an entire minute, expressing disbelief that we were actually physically together in South America! We had planned our Bolivian vacation since we both got into HNGR sophomore year. The past week with her has been more refreshing than I can express, and I am unbelievably grateful to have this time to spend with her.
Let me tell you one thing Emily and I have in common: WE LOVE CHOCOLATE. And maybe because we´re both psychology majors, we don´t have any problem calling it therapy. The first thing we did together in Bolivia (besides hug) was eat enormous slices of chocolate TORTA (cake) while verbally processing the last 4 1/2 months of HNGR. Well, come to think of it, eating chocolate cake/icecream/cheesecake while talking has made up probably 60% of our time together. IT HAS BEEN INCREDIBLE.
The other 40% of the time, we have just enjoyed being TURISTAS. This has included speaking English (sweet mental relief), taking pictures of just about everything, ooing and aaing at sights, hiking gorgeous peaks, and taking advantage of the gigantic movie theater (talk about culture shock ... we stayed for 2 movies, but were probably even more excited about the escalators!!). We have had the enormous privilege of staying with the Kittelson family during our time here, which has definitely uniquely colored our time as tourists in La Paz. We had never met the family before coming, but my parents are friends with them, and Emily and I have been sooo blessed and impressed by their hospitality!! We´ve really enjoyed conversations about short term missions, coca, Bolivian politics, and gender (feel like I´m always talking about that), as well. What a great family!!
Unfortunately, our time in La Paz has also included a little bit of TRAUMA as well. Yesterday when Emily and I were at an internet cafe close to the Kittelsons' house, my purse was stolen off the back of my chair. As soon as I realized it was gone, I started sobbing ... and cried harder when I realized that my journal of my whole time in Peru had been in the purse. Thankfully, my passport was at the house, and I had not had much money with me ... but the experience definitely shook me up. I thankfully got ahold of my parents in Nigeria right away and we cancelled my credit card. We've realized that I might have to perform some gymnastics to navigate life without access to an ATM, the loss of my driver's license, etc ... but I am so thankful that Emily and I are safe, above all!
Yesterday was a tough day. I was so upset about losing my journal. I was so angry that someone would take things that belong to someone else. I was so scared for my own safety. And as I reflected on the whole situation, I got really sad about poverty. Why did someone steal MY purse? Well, I was in a nice internet cafe. I am white. I had a nice purse just hanging off the back of my chair. They obviously thought I had a lot of money. Because I'm white. Why do I have enough money to go on a vacation to La Paz and engorge myself with chocolate cake when some people have to steal to survive? It was a strange feeling to walk around the city yesterday carrying literally nothing. I chuckled at the irony of finding 50 cents on the sidewalk, putting it in my pocket, and realizing that that was all I had at the moment. I don't understand the world's systems. But maybe that's because I have the privilege of ignorance as I enjoy living at the top.
My first instinct after being robbed is extreme paranoia. I feel suspicious of everyone. I told Emily yesterday that I was struggling not to lose my faith in humanity just because one person disappointed me. But the longer I think about it, the more I wonder if God wants to teach me something about myself through this. Something about my place in this world.
Emily and I are leaving La Paz this afternoon and will spend the rest of the week together at the beautiful Lake Titicaca. I would appreciate your prayers for our safety, and for God's continued blessings on our conversations. This has been such an important time for me!
Let me tell you one thing Emily and I have in common: WE LOVE CHOCOLATE. And maybe because we´re both psychology majors, we don´t have any problem calling it therapy. The first thing we did together in Bolivia (besides hug) was eat enormous slices of chocolate TORTA (cake) while verbally processing the last 4 1/2 months of HNGR. Well, come to think of it, eating chocolate cake/icecream/cheesecake while talking has made up probably 60% of our time together. IT HAS BEEN INCREDIBLE.
The other 40% of the time, we have just enjoyed being TURISTAS. This has included speaking English (sweet mental relief), taking pictures of just about everything, ooing and aaing at sights, hiking gorgeous peaks, and taking advantage of the gigantic movie theater (talk about culture shock ... we stayed for 2 movies, but were probably even more excited about the escalators!!). We have had the enormous privilege of staying with the Kittelson family during our time here, which has definitely uniquely colored our time as tourists in La Paz. We had never met the family before coming, but my parents are friends with them, and Emily and I have been sooo blessed and impressed by their hospitality!! We´ve really enjoyed conversations about short term missions, coca, Bolivian politics, and gender (feel like I´m always talking about that), as well. What a great family!!
Unfortunately, our time in La Paz has also included a little bit of TRAUMA as well. Yesterday when Emily and I were at an internet cafe close to the Kittelsons' house, my purse was stolen off the back of my chair. As soon as I realized it was gone, I started sobbing ... and cried harder when I realized that my journal of my whole time in Peru had been in the purse. Thankfully, my passport was at the house, and I had not had much money with me ... but the experience definitely shook me up. I thankfully got ahold of my parents in Nigeria right away and we cancelled my credit card. We've realized that I might have to perform some gymnastics to navigate life without access to an ATM, the loss of my driver's license, etc ... but I am so thankful that Emily and I are safe, above all!
Yesterday was a tough day. I was so upset about losing my journal. I was so angry that someone would take things that belong to someone else. I was so scared for my own safety. And as I reflected on the whole situation, I got really sad about poverty. Why did someone steal MY purse? Well, I was in a nice internet cafe. I am white. I had a nice purse just hanging off the back of my chair. They obviously thought I had a lot of money. Because I'm white. Why do I have enough money to go on a vacation to La Paz and engorge myself with chocolate cake when some people have to steal to survive? It was a strange feeling to walk around the city yesterday carrying literally nothing. I chuckled at the irony of finding 50 cents on the sidewalk, putting it in my pocket, and realizing that that was all I had at the moment. I don't understand the world's systems. But maybe that's because I have the privilege of ignorance as I enjoy living at the top.
My first instinct after being robbed is extreme paranoia. I feel suspicious of everyone. I told Emily yesterday that I was struggling not to lose my faith in humanity just because one person disappointed me. But the longer I think about it, the more I wonder if God wants to teach me something about myself through this. Something about my place in this world.
Emily and I are leaving La Paz this afternoon and will spend the rest of the week together at the beautiful Lake Titicaca. I would appreciate your prayers for our safety, and for God's continued blessings on our conversations. This has been such an important time for me!
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