St. Pancras News
December
A Birthday at Our of Lady of Walsingham
The craziness of the Advent season led me to really enjoy my stay at the Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham. The village of Walsingham is a population of barley 500 people and sits out with the grazing sheep 175 miles north of London. The shrine itself takes up about half of the town with it's residence halls, church, conference center, and offices. The shrine prides itself on being as "high church" as possible. I respected their quest in this venture as they wanted to express each and every act of worship well and with purpose. This sense of doing tasks with purpose stemmed to how they ran every element of worship during the whole weekend retreat. The retreat was called "Adoraemus", meaning "new life". It was for anyone ages 18-30 and about 50 participants showed up for the "pilgrimage". It surprised me how many different areas of England everyone represented.
The usual schedule was very lax and would go in a pattern as follows: 1. go to morning worship, 2. have lunch, 3. go to the pub, 4. afternoon study, 5. go to the pub, 6. have dinner, 7. go to the pub, 8. have evening worship, 9. go to the pub again. There was only one pub in the village that was called "The Bull". It was a nice, quaint little place right in the town square. As you would walk in, you would think it any other normal small village pub...... until you saw all of the pictures of past Shrine priests and icons of saints on the walls. Yes, this was no ordinary pub- this was a "churchy" pub. Thus, my afternoons and evenings in Walsingham were usually spent "drinking down a pint", looking at the pictures of Jesus on the wall, and having deep theological discussions.
These discussions would include lessons for me (the only Lutheran in the entire village which gained me the nickname "Martin") in high-church practices of the Church of England. For example, on the first evening we all gathered in the Shrine Church for an Advent Carol Service to mark the beginning of Advent. It was an absolutely beautiful service filled with candle light and more familiar hymns. It came to the end of the service which I thought I had down pat- Eucharist, Lord's Prayer, Blessing, Benediction, done. I triumphantly was speaking the Lord's Prayer when I suddenly realized that everyone else had dropped out. In the more Eastern Orthodox tradition (which the Church of England borrows some elements from) the last part of the Lord's Prayer (For Thine is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory forever etc..) is not said. Thus, I did an entire solo of the more “western” addition to the Lord's Prayer completely by myself with everyone looking at me blankly. And if that weren't enough, as soon as the priest said the blessing I got out of my chair and walked down the isle thinking it was time to go. Everyone suddenly started kneeling again! I quickly lunged for a kneeler as I turned around and saw the priest pick up this huge frame of a GIGANTIC communion waffer with little flames shooting out of the sides. He then proceeded to take this huge star-bursty thing and wave it around in front of the congregation while the organ played a "Star Wars" type theme. I was very perplexed.
I was told afterwards that this star-burst thing was actually called a Monstrance. It is used to signify Christ physically being here with us. The Monstrance is quite important in major feasts as it is the culmination of Christ in the Eucharist and Christ in the body. It was a very interesting thing to have learned, even if it was through embarrassment. And so, my birthday (December 1st) became a day of really "being" in the stillness of this village and learning new worship traditions in a pub that had Jesus portraits hanging on the walls. Needless to say, it will be a birthday I will never forget!
The French have Arrived!
This past month has been very exciting as it marked the beginning of a new relationship with the Parish of St. Pancras in Camden Town and the Parish of St. Vincent de Paul in Paris. This church relationship started about 10 years ago when it was announced that Eurostar would build a high-speed rail line from London to Paris and use the St. Pancras Railway Station as it's staging point. Two weeks ago, 10 parishioners from St. Vincent de Paul traveled from Paris to London in 2 hours and 4 minutes on this brand new Eurostar line. They were greeted by a group of parishioners from St. Pancras and Father Nicholas extending a welcoming smile and handshake. What an exciting moment!
We packed a full day in with our French guests. I had the privilege of taking them to St. Michael's Primary School during a school assembly. The kids had learned simple French greetings and were very enthusiastic about talking in French. One of the French parishioners was a primary school teacher in Paris and was overjoyed to see all the kids so excited about learning French! The priest from St. Vincent de Paul knew very little English, but communicated very well with the kids in funny facial expressions and with another parishioner translating. We then took the group of visitors to the St. Pancras Hospital where Owen and Father Malcolm explained the hospital chaplaincy ministry that our congregation does. The hospital even allowed our group to enter one of the Psychological wards where we talked with different patients. I think it was a very big eye opener for our parish friends. The two congregations are remarkably similar. They both equal around 300 worshipers and are very urban parishes. They are both struggling with how to combat homelessness in their local communities and are committed to alcohol and drug prevention ministries. Both parishes are also struggling with the continuing pressure of secularism and dwindling resources. All of these things draw the two churches together in a very intimate way. What an incredible experience it was to listen to the sharing of joy, challenge, and hope these people shared with one another.
The evening ended with a service of thanksgiving that was both in English as well as French. The CEO of Eurostar, Bishop of Edmonton, Mayor of Camden, rail workers, and parishioners all packed Old St. Pancras Church for the event. In a tremendous gesture of unification, the Catholic priest of St. Vincent de Paul even shared the Eucharist (against normal Catholic doctrine) with his fellow Church of England counterparts. All of this touched me, but, perhaps the most remarkable image I will take away from the evening was when the two parishes gathered around their priests on either side of the sanctuary in a blessing. The two priests said prayer intercessions together, each in their respective languages, with the bishop blessing them at the end. Finally, after concluding with the Lord's Prayer, the two priests happily shook hands and exchanged gifts. There was then an instant roar of enthusiasm and parishioners from the two sides immediately came together in a wash of laughter, handshakes, and greetings. It was a night when two cultures that have historically been separated by geographical, political, and economic barriers came together in a spirit of hope for the future. What an incredible privilege it was to be a part of such an event.
The Christmas Spirit of London
The holiday season in London has been one of mixed emotions for me. It is my first Christmas away from home which is always a hard thing to get used to. I catch myself a lot thinking about "what my family and friends must being doing right now" and day-dreaming of the Swedish meatballs, St. Olaf Christmas music, and lutefisk that are all staples in my family's holiday tradition. I have come to realize that one cannot fully appreciate and cherish the holiday traditions of their family until they come into a situation where those elements are no longer the norm. I have given up trying to explain the "concept" of lefsa to the English. They simply can't perceive how something so sweet can go with the main meal and try to serve it as a desert. How do you get yourself to laugh on Christmas? Try getting a proper Englishman to roll a piece of lefsa at the dinner table. I promise you will be laughing for hours!
In an attempt to get myself out of the "feeling sorry for myself because I am not at home for Christmas" mood, I have specifically been looking for new traditions that the English in London cherish in their Christmas Holiday. Firstly, I have discovered the interesting cake thing called a "Mince Pie" that is the bread and butter of any English Christmas meal. English grocery chains such as Sainsbury's and Morrison's PACK their shelves with these little pies and one couldn't get away from them even if they tried. I have eaten Mince Pies at church, on the street, at school, in people's homes, before concerts, after concerts, and even for desert AFTER desert. Yes, Mince Pies are taking over Great Britain. I have yet to find out about the joys of Christmas pudding, however. Many Londoners, I have come to observe, make a huge fuss about WHEN to serve the Christmas pudding, namely BEFORE or AFTER the Queen's address. Thus far, in my official count, families who serve their pudding after the Queen's address are out numbering families who serve it before. Although, this carefully orchestrated study has yet to be completed. I will let you know the results once they become available.
The final thing that I have come to observe about Londoners and how they celebrate Christmas is their absolute fascination with Christmas caroling. I think I should open up a business on the side called "Eric's Christmas Caroling Shop". In it, I would just hire singers to sing Christmas songs for people to stop by and listen. I would make more money than Bill Gates! Lou, one of our parishioners, works at a Youth Drop-in Center in a section of Camden called Somers Town. She takes some of their clients out and goes Christmas caroling as a fundraiser for their yearly activities budget. After one afternoon of caroling, they came back with two thousand pounds ($4,100)! The church gets into the caroling spirit as well by allowing various groups to come in and have "special carol services". One of the funniest things I have seen in a long time was watching Father Nicholas try and lead 150 railway workers in a carol service. It was a sight to see!
I have also been involved with this caroling frenzy as I have been taking my 35 kids in the St. Michael's Primary School Gospel Choir to different places around London and singing Christmas favorites. I got the chance to direct these kids in the great lobby of the British Museum which was incredible! I will never forget some of the children's faces as they sang. These kids have had an enormous impact on me in how they project the Christmas spirit. Although about 20 of the 35 children are Muslim, they still convey joy and warmth in a remarkable way. It continues to remind me how much the Christmas spirit unites us on many fronts.
In a city where community can be hard to find, there is something about this time that changes the way everyone lives and works here. Perhaps it can best be described in my experience with an elderly man as I was tromping up Camden Road with a Christmas tree for St. Paul's Church on my shoulder. The man (who spoke very little English) turned his head to me and gave me a big smile. "Merry Christmas to You!", he said. I turned, smiled back, and also wished him a Merry Christmas. For only these few days, Londoners seem to actually be "looking up" and smiling at each other. People are stepping a little out of their boundaries and actually acknowledging others' presence as they smile to each other. This to me is a powerful example of the joy of Christmas. May you, this season, be able to see how this spirit influences both yourself and your surrounding community. Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Years to you!
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Lutheran World Travels part 4 - Anthony in the UK
Anthony
Presents
Lutheran World Travels
Part4
Christmas Greetings,
Here we are once again in the month of December, a month of frantic preparation for the coming Christmas Holiday and the close of 2007. There have been many Christmas parties, multiple Christmas meals, Christmas cards and presents exchange, not mention all the sweets and coffee that has been consumed. We are winding down for the year at Door of House. We are finishing the work that we have started in 2007 and preparing for 2008 and what is to come. The projects that I am working on for 2008 are a few different fundraisers.
The first that is taking place immediately in the New Year is Door of Hope is encouraging people to give in up alcohol for one month and donate the money they might have spent in that month to the house in the support of the residents here that are striving to give it up for life.
The other two fundraisers are still in the works. I am looking at a sponsored run in the spring doing the Reading Half Marathon. Along with that another member of staff here at Door of Hope we will partake in a sponsored bike ride from Reading to Paris. There will be more exciting details in the coming months.
These are just some of the exciting things to look forward to in the New Year.
Even in the hustle and bustle of the month of December and the seemingly endless array of Christmas ads on the television I think it’s good to remember the reason why we celebrate so joyously during this time of year.
Luke 2: 1-20
In those days there went out a decree from emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was Governor of Syria. All went to there own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and lineage of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger and, because there was no room for them in the inn. In that region there were shepherds living in the fields keeping watch over their flocks by night. Then the angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see- I am bringing you good tidings of great joy for all the people: for to you is born this day in the city of David a saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign unto you: You will find a child wrapped in cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace among those whom he favours!” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at was told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.
In reflecting on this story and in thinking about what may lie ahead here is my prayer for the New Year.
It is on account of Your mercy alone, O Lord, that I am not consumed, because Your compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. Abide with me, O God, throughout the coming year. Be my guide in all my perplexities, my strength in my weakness, my ever-ready help in all my troubles. Forgive me all my sins. O Saboath Lord, look down from heaven in grace behold and visit Your holy Church, which You have chosen for Your own. Preserve for us Your saving Word and Sacraments, that Your vine may send out it boughs from sea to sea and its branches to the uttermost parts of the earth. Look graciously upon our nation and all other nations of the world, and bless them with peace. Abide with us Lord. With Your grace and mercy preserve us whole- soul and body- blameless to the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
May the Lord touch your heart this Christmas and May you know God’s everlasting peace.
Soli Deo Gloria
Presents
Lutheran World Travels
Part4
Christmas Greetings,
Here we are once again in the month of December, a month of frantic preparation for the coming Christmas Holiday and the close of 2007. There have been many Christmas parties, multiple Christmas meals, Christmas cards and presents exchange, not mention all the sweets and coffee that has been consumed. We are winding down for the year at Door of House. We are finishing the work that we have started in 2007 and preparing for 2008 and what is to come. The projects that I am working on for 2008 are a few different fundraisers.
The first that is taking place immediately in the New Year is Door of Hope is encouraging people to give in up alcohol for one month and donate the money they might have spent in that month to the house in the support of the residents here that are striving to give it up for life.
The other two fundraisers are still in the works. I am looking at a sponsored run in the spring doing the Reading Half Marathon. Along with that another member of staff here at Door of Hope we will partake in a sponsored bike ride from Reading to Paris. There will be more exciting details in the coming months.
These are just some of the exciting things to look forward to in the New Year.
Even in the hustle and bustle of the month of December and the seemingly endless array of Christmas ads on the television I think it’s good to remember the reason why we celebrate so joyously during this time of year.
Luke 2: 1-20
In those days there went out a decree from emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was Governor of Syria. All went to there own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and lineage of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger and, because there was no room for them in the inn. In that region there were shepherds living in the fields keeping watch over their flocks by night. Then the angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see- I am bringing you good tidings of great joy for all the people: for to you is born this day in the city of David a saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign unto you: You will find a child wrapped in cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace among those whom he favours!” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at was told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.
In reflecting on this story and in thinking about what may lie ahead here is my prayer for the New Year.
It is on account of Your mercy alone, O Lord, that I am not consumed, because Your compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. Abide with me, O God, throughout the coming year. Be my guide in all my perplexities, my strength in my weakness, my ever-ready help in all my troubles. Forgive me all my sins. O Saboath Lord, look down from heaven in grace behold and visit Your holy Church, which You have chosen for Your own. Preserve for us Your saving Word and Sacraments, that Your vine may send out it boughs from sea to sea and its branches to the uttermost parts of the earth. Look graciously upon our nation and all other nations of the world, and bless them with peace. Abide with us Lord. With Your grace and mercy preserve us whole- soul and body- blameless to the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
May the Lord touch your heart this Christmas and May you know God’s everlasting peace.
Soli Deo Gloria
Monday, December 24, 2007
Merry Christmas from Germany - Toby
Hi everyone, I hope that you are all doing well. I apologize for not writing sooner but for a couple of months I didn’t have internet access and then I’ve been so busy I don’t know where the time goes. I made it to Vechta just fine. I’m working with teenagers in a group home situation. There are 6 homes located on the campus. I’m assigned to the teenagers in house 1. I have a small studio apartment on the 3rd floor with a little kitchen in it.
To get into town I have to walk or borrow a bicycle. My time off is usually on the weekends and the stores are closed on Sundays (it‘s a law in Germany that the stores have to be closed on Sundays.) It’s very different shopping over here as there’s no “Fred Meyer” where you can get about anything you need. I occasionally need to take some of the children I work with different places so I’m able to use the group home’s car and it’s been nice to get out and see more.
I’m trying to get involved in other things while I’m over here so I’ve sung with a choir, taken a language class at the nearby university (which is equivalent to UCC) and I’ve just joined a football team (American style football, not soccer.) I’ve been able to take a couple of weekend trips to visit my GAPP exchange partner in Luneburg and go to our exchange student, Berry’s (he lived with us 2 years ago) farm and meet his whole family.
I wanted to show my home what a Thanksgiving feast was like so I decided to make them dinner. It was quite a challenge because nothing was the same as it is in America. Just a few minor details made it difficult like – how big is the turkey so I know how long to bake it, how to make green bean casserole when they don‘t have Campbell’s soup, no one eats stuffing here so I had to make it all from scratch. It didn’t turn out like ours back home but they didn’t know any different so I just smiled and pretended everything was perfect.
Here is a small overview of the teenagers that I am working with and the life that I am navigating through over here in Germany. Ann-Katrin
AK just turned 18 this last weekend with a party to match those of the 21 birthdays back home in the US. She is very independent and act as a mother hen / older sister to the other kids, which means that she can be very protective of them but also one of the first to go after them for something. She does well in school and can speak really good English; when she has the courage to do so. Ann-Katrin also is taking piano lessons and will be having her first recital this weekend which she is very nervous about.Oliver
Olli is a very easy going 15 year old who loves rap music. He asks a lot of questions about how things are different from the US and Germany. Included in these questions are mixes of thing that he has seen on the Simpsons and is wondering if they really happen in America.
One of the funniest stories from Olli, is when we had Leber Kaes (liver loaf). We were all sitting around the table with Olli right next to me. We had almost finished with lunch when I asked Olli if he could pass me the liver stuff because I could not remember the word in German. Olli turned his head towards me with this most disgusted look on it as if he was going to be sick and asks me, “That was liver“. I have to say at this point that Olli had just eaten two large pieces of the Leber Kaes and had just commented on how much he liked it. The thing is he always new the name of it he just did not associate it with it actually being liver. I then looked at my colleague at the other side of the table who was really trying not to laugh and I told Olli that I think that they made these out of some other type of meat.Fernando
Fernando is one of the hardest people to write about. He is very tough on the outside but underneath what he must portray for others he is very much a 14 year old boy inside. When I first started working in House 1 Fernando and I had a big power struggle over who really had authority over him. As these months have gone by we have grown to be able to really talk with each other and get to know each other a little better. Because he is always wanting the attention on him he is easily influenced by others and must out do everyone to show he is on top. This has resulted in many wrong doing in which television, lamps around the complex, among other thing have been broken or somehow destroyed. Dennis
Dennis is 14 years old and Hyper active. He has more of an appearance and mental development of our 11 year old Kai. Dennis has been one of my biggest learning experiences so far with having patience. I have to go into the city some times during the week with Dennis to get his hair cut, go to the doctor, or some other reason. I have found out that the only way to go through the city with him is to plan a direction through the city that will have the least amount of people for him to go up and talk to and to make sure he has something in his hand to keep him distracted. I also spend a lot of time with Dennis in helping him with homework. Homework most day takes an average of one to three hours depending on how much he receives and how long his attention span lasts.Rene
Rene is a 13 year that has lived through many problems. Over the first 3 months that I was here is Germany I was not able get to know him that well because he was in the house for only two weeks before he had to go to a clinic where he would call us normally only once a week. For the last month Rene has joined the house again starting out well but what he improved over those three months has now deteriorated to leave him back in the same place he was before he left. Rene does well in school but struggles greatly with homework when he gets nervous or agitated. One of the great things about Rene is that he is a great hand ball player.Kai
Kai is a very friendly 11 year old. Out of all the kids that I work with I have been able to interact with Kai the most do to the many things we have in common. One of the best ways we keep each other entertained when we have to walk in the city somewhere is to start questioning each other about the Harry Potter books (I think he is the only person that I know that has read them more than me). Kai also does very well in school with his major strength being in math.Steffen
Steffen is 16 years old. He was very friendly to me and would do almost all that I asked of him with out any complaint or arguing. I am sad to say that he is not living in house 1 any more and had to move back home at the beginning of fall break because of some legal indiscretions. What I do on a regular day
I start work at 12:00, that is when I have the most time talk with my other colleagues about what is going on that day and how the children are doing. At around 12:30 I pick up the laundry from the Laundry Room, which is located in the basement of another building. I have normally just enough time to sort all the laundry into each kids cubby before I need to go back and pick up lunch from the kitchen; it is located above the Laundry room. After that I wait for the kids to come home some times folding different articles that we wash here in the house, setting the table, and what ever other small jobs that I find to do. The kids will normally arrive in around two separate times, the first group including AK (Ann-Katrin); Rene; Dennis; and Kai, and would arrive around 12:30 - 1:30 depending on what they have that day in school. I should say this now, for the first three months that I was here Rene was in a clinic for medical reasons. Also Steffen had to leave the house because of reasons of a problem after fall break. For the time that Steffen was here he pretty much took the place of Rene. So he would also be here around the same time as the others in the first group. Anyway, the second group of kids would arrive around 2:15 and included Oliver and Fernando. When the kids arrive we first sit down and eat lunch then when they are done they go to their room until 3:00 during that time I will make sure that the younger ones brush their teeth, wash up in between the two groups of kids, and help with home work. After 3:00 the kids usually if they have their homework done go out and do what they want. From 3:00 until 6:30 I will help with homework, play some sport or other activity with the kids, run errands like doctor appointments and food shopping. At 6:30 we eat dinner which consists of bread with different toppings like butter and salami or butter and cheese. After that there is not much to do in the house so I will either be done for the day and can go home or I will stay and just hang out with the kids and watch their favorite TV show like The Nanny. Some Weekend ExperiencesKammer mart
This was a festival that takes place in early fall in Oldenburg (the larger city about 40 minutes to the north of Vechta. The festival takes place for two weeks with different events going on during the days and a carnival ride fair and disco at night. On the second weekend they have a parade that travels through the streets of Oldenburg with different organizations dressed up in different outfits and throwing candy and small what not’s. One of the organizations that participates is the volunteer program that is working along with the ELCA to support me during this year. The program then asked all the volunteers throughout the area if they would like to join in the parade, so the group of us down in Vechta decided to say yes and join them. This year they had all the volunteers dress up in blue with blue provided tee shirts. They then put blue face paint on all our faces and gave us blue wigs and boas. It turned out to be a lot of fun and we got some great pictures to go along with our lovely new wigs and boas.Movie Park
I was also able to take a bunch of kids from the different houses with another volunteer to a theme park called movie park. The day turned out to be very fun and exciting, making me understand my dad saying that it is more fun just going with a bunch of kids than it is riding the rides yourself. Even though we did have a small problem finding all the kids at the end of the day it turned out to be a great day and a great chance to meet some of the kids from the other houses on the complex.
I would like to thank you all for all your support and prayers. This has really been a test of patience and I call upon the Lord daily to help me give the acceptance, love and compassion these kids need. My parents just arrived for Christmas – most all of the children will be going home to their families so I get 2 weeks off and we’re going to drive all around Germany and The Netherlands. I wish you all a Frohe Weihnachten .
Yours in Christ,
Toby
To get into town I have to walk or borrow a bicycle. My time off is usually on the weekends and the stores are closed on Sundays (it‘s a law in Germany that the stores have to be closed on Sundays.) It’s very different shopping over here as there’s no “Fred Meyer” where you can get about anything you need. I occasionally need to take some of the children I work with different places so I’m able to use the group home’s car and it’s been nice to get out and see more.
I’m trying to get involved in other things while I’m over here so I’ve sung with a choir, taken a language class at the nearby university (which is equivalent to UCC) and I’ve just joined a football team (American style football, not soccer.) I’ve been able to take a couple of weekend trips to visit my GAPP exchange partner in Luneburg and go to our exchange student, Berry’s (he lived with us 2 years ago) farm and meet his whole family.
I wanted to show my home what a Thanksgiving feast was like so I decided to make them dinner. It was quite a challenge because nothing was the same as it is in America. Just a few minor details made it difficult like – how big is the turkey so I know how long to bake it, how to make green bean casserole when they don‘t have Campbell’s soup, no one eats stuffing here so I had to make it all from scratch. It didn’t turn out like ours back home but they didn’t know any different so I just smiled and pretended everything was perfect.
Here is a small overview of the teenagers that I am working with and the life that I am navigating through over here in Germany. Ann-Katrin
AK just turned 18 this last weekend with a party to match those of the 21 birthdays back home in the US. She is very independent and act as a mother hen / older sister to the other kids, which means that she can be very protective of them but also one of the first to go after them for something. She does well in school and can speak really good English; when she has the courage to do so. Ann-Katrin also is taking piano lessons and will be having her first recital this weekend which she is very nervous about.Oliver
Olli is a very easy going 15 year old who loves rap music. He asks a lot of questions about how things are different from the US and Germany. Included in these questions are mixes of thing that he has seen on the Simpsons and is wondering if they really happen in America.
One of the funniest stories from Olli, is when we had Leber Kaes (liver loaf). We were all sitting around the table with Olli right next to me. We had almost finished with lunch when I asked Olli if he could pass me the liver stuff because I could not remember the word in German. Olli turned his head towards me with this most disgusted look on it as if he was going to be sick and asks me, “That was liver“. I have to say at this point that Olli had just eaten two large pieces of the Leber Kaes and had just commented on how much he liked it. The thing is he always new the name of it he just did not associate it with it actually being liver. I then looked at my colleague at the other side of the table who was really trying not to laugh and I told Olli that I think that they made these out of some other type of meat.Fernando
Fernando is one of the hardest people to write about. He is very tough on the outside but underneath what he must portray for others he is very much a 14 year old boy inside. When I first started working in House 1 Fernando and I had a big power struggle over who really had authority over him. As these months have gone by we have grown to be able to really talk with each other and get to know each other a little better. Because he is always wanting the attention on him he is easily influenced by others and must out do everyone to show he is on top. This has resulted in many wrong doing in which television, lamps around the complex, among other thing have been broken or somehow destroyed. Dennis
Dennis is 14 years old and Hyper active. He has more of an appearance and mental development of our 11 year old Kai. Dennis has been one of my biggest learning experiences so far with having patience. I have to go into the city some times during the week with Dennis to get his hair cut, go to the doctor, or some other reason. I have found out that the only way to go through the city with him is to plan a direction through the city that will have the least amount of people for him to go up and talk to and to make sure he has something in his hand to keep him distracted. I also spend a lot of time with Dennis in helping him with homework. Homework most day takes an average of one to three hours depending on how much he receives and how long his attention span lasts.Rene
Rene is a 13 year that has lived through many problems. Over the first 3 months that I was here is Germany I was not able get to know him that well because he was in the house for only two weeks before he had to go to a clinic where he would call us normally only once a week. For the last month Rene has joined the house again starting out well but what he improved over those three months has now deteriorated to leave him back in the same place he was before he left. Rene does well in school but struggles greatly with homework when he gets nervous or agitated. One of the great things about Rene is that he is a great hand ball player.Kai
Kai is a very friendly 11 year old. Out of all the kids that I work with I have been able to interact with Kai the most do to the many things we have in common. One of the best ways we keep each other entertained when we have to walk in the city somewhere is to start questioning each other about the Harry Potter books (I think he is the only person that I know that has read them more than me). Kai also does very well in school with his major strength being in math.Steffen
Steffen is 16 years old. He was very friendly to me and would do almost all that I asked of him with out any complaint or arguing. I am sad to say that he is not living in house 1 any more and had to move back home at the beginning of fall break because of some legal indiscretions. What I do on a regular day
I start work at 12:00, that is when I have the most time talk with my other colleagues about what is going on that day and how the children are doing. At around 12:30 I pick up the laundry from the Laundry Room, which is located in the basement of another building. I have normally just enough time to sort all the laundry into each kids cubby before I need to go back and pick up lunch from the kitchen; it is located above the Laundry room. After that I wait for the kids to come home some times folding different articles that we wash here in the house, setting the table, and what ever other small jobs that I find to do. The kids will normally arrive in around two separate times, the first group including AK (Ann-Katrin); Rene; Dennis; and Kai, and would arrive around 12:30 - 1:30 depending on what they have that day in school. I should say this now, for the first three months that I was here Rene was in a clinic for medical reasons. Also Steffen had to leave the house because of reasons of a problem after fall break. For the time that Steffen was here he pretty much took the place of Rene. So he would also be here around the same time as the others in the first group. Anyway, the second group of kids would arrive around 2:15 and included Oliver and Fernando. When the kids arrive we first sit down and eat lunch then when they are done they go to their room until 3:00 during that time I will make sure that the younger ones brush their teeth, wash up in between the two groups of kids, and help with home work. After 3:00 the kids usually if they have their homework done go out and do what they want. From 3:00 until 6:30 I will help with homework, play some sport or other activity with the kids, run errands like doctor appointments and food shopping. At 6:30 we eat dinner which consists of bread with different toppings like butter and salami or butter and cheese. After that there is not much to do in the house so I will either be done for the day and can go home or I will stay and just hang out with the kids and watch their favorite TV show like The Nanny. Some Weekend ExperiencesKammer mart
This was a festival that takes place in early fall in Oldenburg (the larger city about 40 minutes to the north of Vechta. The festival takes place for two weeks with different events going on during the days and a carnival ride fair and disco at night. On the second weekend they have a parade that travels through the streets of Oldenburg with different organizations dressed up in different outfits and throwing candy and small what not’s. One of the organizations that participates is the volunteer program that is working along with the ELCA to support me during this year. The program then asked all the volunteers throughout the area if they would like to join in the parade, so the group of us down in Vechta decided to say yes and join them. This year they had all the volunteers dress up in blue with blue provided tee shirts. They then put blue face paint on all our faces and gave us blue wigs and boas. It turned out to be a lot of fun and we got some great pictures to go along with our lovely new wigs and boas.Movie Park
I was also able to take a bunch of kids from the different houses with another volunteer to a theme park called movie park. The day turned out to be very fun and exciting, making me understand my dad saying that it is more fun just going with a bunch of kids than it is riding the rides yourself. Even though we did have a small problem finding all the kids at the end of the day it turned out to be a great day and a great chance to meet some of the kids from the other houses on the complex.
I would like to thank you all for all your support and prayers. This has really been a test of patience and I call upon the Lord daily to help me give the acceptance, love and compassion these kids need. My parents just arrived for Christmas – most all of the children will be going home to their families so I get 2 weeks off and we’re going to drive all around Germany and The Netherlands. I wish you all a Frohe Weihnachten .
Yours in Christ,
Toby
Sunday, December 23, 2007
December Newsletter - Laura in India
"A Spider's Lesson"
A part of me enjoys bugs and other typical crawlers. I spent two
summers working in an entomology department; heck, I spent those hot
days prowling North Dakota fields for various insects and spiders.
Yes, these ecological essentials are my buddies. That is why I have
decided the mammoth-size spiders I have encountered here are anything
but normal. They are the phenomenon you see in textbooks, not your
bathroom.
Complete with a body the size of my face, eight shaggy legs and the
speed of an Olympic sprinter, these hairy beasts freak me out. That
is why I have rationally come to the conclusion that these
mini-monsters are not from the spider family. No, no. They are some
morphed descendent of the T-Rex. Of this I am sure.
My face-to-face encounters with them have been few, but enough. The
first: during a weekend stay at a girls' boarding school. I spent the
majority of mornings chasing these giants from behind pipes, from
under the sink, and out of the toilet. Of course, I did all this
while standing on a chair and waving a five-foot long broom. I must
have read in a travel guide that you should try obtaining the upper
hand when taking on the last of the dinosaur race. Being the
environmental conservationist, though, I left doors and windows open,
hoping to guide these crawlers back to nature, instead of invoking the
second mass extinction.
That was until Spiderman showed up on the ceiling. As I waved the
broom in the air, coaxing the terror from the corner, instead of
crawling down the wall as any sane spider would, this guy leapt out of
the corner, hung mid-air for a moment before parachuting down to the
ground. That was it. I lost it. I could not control the shouting or
wild broom thwacking. Next thing I knew, SkyDiving-Spidy was nothing
more than a pile of goo on the floor. I confess, I felt victorious.
I welcomed the moment by triumphantly calling my roommate, Christina,
to share my jubilation. A part of me feels I crossed over from girly
tourist to cultured traveler; another part of me hopes I never see
these creepy crawlers again.
Later that day, I was preparing a devotion on Mary, the mother of
Jesus. As I scanned the room for any of the beastly intruders, I was
struck with the thought of Mary's courage. Here I was, standing on
chairs, using broomsticks to rid my clean and sheltered bedroom of
spiders; Mary was fully vulnerable as she gave birth among all that
creeps in the night. Can you imagine?
I suddenly realized how glorified and glamorous we have made the
entire Christmas story. Our nativity scenes portray everything in its
perfection: fresh and wonderfully golden hay; a manger that is a
perfect size for the babe; Mary is spotless and comfortable; and the
stable is clean and perfect. No spiders.
We've turned the birth of Jesus into a Disneyesque, magical
performance, masking the realities of the time.
Imagine seeing a nativity scene in its honest and revealing authenticity.
Hay and straw that is anything but new. Sure, a fresh layer has been
laid for the night, but the layers beneath it hold the fertilizer of
tomorrow. And this is Mary's maternity ward. Would such a place pass
the regulations of hospital sanitation?
A manger, worn by age and weather. Wood that has been replaced
several times, so straight edges are only a memory. Perhaps the
inside is splinter city. A manger leg that was kicked by the cow a
few months back, leaving a permanent teeter to the trough. And that
pesky sheep who keeps poking his nose into the crib, finding a baby
has replaced his habitual food. Was Mary busy shooing a sheep's snout
away from her Lord as she welcomed the wise men?
Oh yes, and Mary. Did one of those giant spiders perform its
parachuting act just as her contractions began? Did flies bite her
legs and toes? Did a mouse scurry over her hand in the final stages
of labor? I cannot imagine every saying this again, but I hope the
pain of childbirth was a distraction from other possible distractions.
Finally, the stable. Plenty of holes, cracks, cobwebs and dust. I do
find comfort, though, in thinking about the smell. Some may find it
foul, but I always thought my cousins' barn had a sweet aroma.
Naturally sweet.
Yes. Imagine that nativity scene.
Would you want that decorating your mantle?
To satisfy our craving for the perfect holiday, we have given the
Christmas story a makeover, giving it a glamorous facade to fit the
lifestyle and taste of the privileged. We have forgotten the lowly
beginnings of Christ and replaced it with porcelain and crystal, glass
and glitter-the rich man's holiday. How ironic that we have created a
perfect nativity: the Hilton of stables, the Baby Gap of swaddling
clothes, the purebreds of lowering cattle. For Christmas is anything
but the glorification of worldly excellence.
The beauty of Christmas lies in what we have called imperfect being
claimed as perfect through the birth of a Savior. Everything our
society considers unworthy made worthy: the glory of the Christmas
season.
So, why is it that Christmas has become a time of selfish perfection?
A perfection defined by our worldly standards. Is this where we find
Jesus, the Christ? Are we honoring the baby Jesus at the palace, with
its royal splendor, or at the stable, with its spiders and dust?
Where is Jesus found? Among the so-called worthy of us, or among
those we have deemed unworthy?
My fear of the dinosaurous -spiders remain, but my respect for them
has grown. For their ancestors may have been the first to see the
newborn King. How unworthy I am to even share a bathroom with such
precious creatures.
A part of me enjoys bugs and other typical crawlers. I spent two
summers working in an entomology department; heck, I spent those hot
days prowling North Dakota fields for various insects and spiders.
Yes, these ecological essentials are my buddies. That is why I have
decided the mammoth-size spiders I have encountered here are anything
but normal. They are the phenomenon you see in textbooks, not your
bathroom.
Complete with a body the size of my face, eight shaggy legs and the
speed of an Olympic sprinter, these hairy beasts freak me out. That
is why I have rationally come to the conclusion that these
mini-monsters are not from the spider family. No, no. They are some
morphed descendent of the T-Rex. Of this I am sure.
My face-to-face encounters with them have been few, but enough. The
first: during a weekend stay at a girls' boarding school. I spent the
majority of mornings chasing these giants from behind pipes, from
under the sink, and out of the toilet. Of course, I did all this
while standing on a chair and waving a five-foot long broom. I must
have read in a travel guide that you should try obtaining the upper
hand when taking on the last of the dinosaur race. Being the
environmental conservationist, though, I left doors and windows open,
hoping to guide these crawlers back to nature, instead of invoking the
second mass extinction.
That was until Spiderman showed up on the ceiling. As I waved the
broom in the air, coaxing the terror from the corner, instead of
crawling down the wall as any sane spider would, this guy leapt out of
the corner, hung mid-air for a moment before parachuting down to the
ground. That was it. I lost it. I could not control the shouting or
wild broom thwacking. Next thing I knew, SkyDiving-Spidy was nothing
more than a pile of goo on the floor. I confess, I felt victorious.
I welcomed the moment by triumphantly calling my roommate, Christina,
to share my jubilation. A part of me feels I crossed over from girly
tourist to cultured traveler; another part of me hopes I never see
these creepy crawlers again.
Later that day, I was preparing a devotion on Mary, the mother of
Jesus. As I scanned the room for any of the beastly intruders, I was
struck with the thought of Mary's courage. Here I was, standing on
chairs, using broomsticks to rid my clean and sheltered bedroom of
spiders; Mary was fully vulnerable as she gave birth among all that
creeps in the night. Can you imagine?
I suddenly realized how glorified and glamorous we have made the
entire Christmas story. Our nativity scenes portray everything in its
perfection: fresh and wonderfully golden hay; a manger that is a
perfect size for the babe; Mary is spotless and comfortable; and the
stable is clean and perfect. No spiders.
We've turned the birth of Jesus into a Disneyesque, magical
performance, masking the realities of the time.
Imagine seeing a nativity scene in its honest and revealing authenticity.
Hay and straw that is anything but new. Sure, a fresh layer has been
laid for the night, but the layers beneath it hold the fertilizer of
tomorrow. And this is Mary's maternity ward. Would such a place pass
the regulations of hospital sanitation?
A manger, worn by age and weather. Wood that has been replaced
several times, so straight edges are only a memory. Perhaps the
inside is splinter city. A manger leg that was kicked by the cow a
few months back, leaving a permanent teeter to the trough. And that
pesky sheep who keeps poking his nose into the crib, finding a baby
has replaced his habitual food. Was Mary busy shooing a sheep's snout
away from her Lord as she welcomed the wise men?
Oh yes, and Mary. Did one of those giant spiders perform its
parachuting act just as her contractions began? Did flies bite her
legs and toes? Did a mouse scurry over her hand in the final stages
of labor? I cannot imagine every saying this again, but I hope the
pain of childbirth was a distraction from other possible distractions.
Finally, the stable. Plenty of holes, cracks, cobwebs and dust. I do
find comfort, though, in thinking about the smell. Some may find it
foul, but I always thought my cousins' barn had a sweet aroma.
Naturally sweet.
Yes. Imagine that nativity scene.
Would you want that decorating your mantle?
To satisfy our craving for the perfect holiday, we have given the
Christmas story a makeover, giving it a glamorous facade to fit the
lifestyle and taste of the privileged. We have forgotten the lowly
beginnings of Christ and replaced it with porcelain and crystal, glass
and glitter-the rich man's holiday. How ironic that we have created a
perfect nativity: the Hilton of stables, the Baby Gap of swaddling
clothes, the purebreds of lowering cattle. For Christmas is anything
but the glorification of worldly excellence.
The beauty of Christmas lies in what we have called imperfect being
claimed as perfect through the birth of a Savior. Everything our
society considers unworthy made worthy: the glory of the Christmas
season.
So, why is it that Christmas has become a time of selfish perfection?
A perfection defined by our worldly standards. Is this where we find
Jesus, the Christ? Are we honoring the baby Jesus at the palace, with
its royal splendor, or at the stable, with its spiders and dust?
Where is Jesus found? Among the so-called worthy of us, or among
those we have deemed unworthy?
My fear of the dinosaurous -spiders remain, but my respect for them
has grown. For their ancestors may have been the first to see the
newborn King. How unworthy I am to even share a bathroom with such
precious creatures.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Candace's September and October Newsletters - UK
September 2007
Hello!!!!
Greetings from High Wycombe in Buckinghamshire England!!!!!!!! So, I made it here safe and sound after a 9 hour flight and was met at the exit by Sue Horswell (my host mum) and Pastor John Roberts, the head pastor at Union Baptist Church where I am giving my time. I am residing in a lovely neighborhood, and as High Wycombe is a very hilly town there are great views of the surrounding areas. It is great walking around town, using the public footpaths that wind between houses and through parks. My house is about 30 minutes away from the church, which is an easy walk into town. In addition, it's very diverse here, with many different cultures represented. A large part of the population, though, is Pakistani, which was a bit of a surprise, yet cool. Where I live is known a High Wycombe and is surrounded by large hills, though I can go about 8 minutes out of the town center (the high street) in one direction and be in town called Marlow, but then go in yet another direction and be in a town called Penn. It is amazing how closely linked the regions all are!
Introductions: My Awesome Schedule
For my first week I was allowed to rest and let the knowledge of what I had actually done sink in. But I also got a chance to meet with my supervisor, the associate Pastor Tim O'Brien, and to get a little preview of what I'd be doing each day. I was introduced to The Hub, the community center that is a part of Union Baptist and hosts a range of activities and is rented out by many groups and organizations. So on Sundays, I help out with Kid's House in Sunday school. The kids are between the ages of 5 and 8 years old and they play games, learn Bible stories on a level that they can comprehend and then do arts and crafts related to these stories. Then on Mondays, I do some church work, like filling in Hope Street registrations (that is what the children and young people's program is called). Then in the evenings I take part in Beavers, boy and girl scouts ages 6 to 8, who also do little crafts and play a lot of games, though they still do other activities that help them to earn their merit badges. Tuesdays there is Open Door, a drop in center where people who are homeless or lonely can come and have a cheap lunch for 50 pence, and services are available for those who would like to have a shower and have their clothes washed. It is an awesome opportunity to meet people in need and to just talk with and encourage them, hopefully taking their minds off their worries for a couple hours. Then at 8 in the evening I am a part of a home group Bible study that is led by my host dad and attended by about 7 members of the church. It is a good time to come together and have fellowship with people I wouldn't see all that often otherwise. Wednesdays host Day Center, a chance for the elderly, who normally aren't able to leave their homes or care facilities, to get out and meet with their friends and to enjoy a service and a nice meal. On Thursdays there is Mums and Toddlers, where mums can come with their little ones and have a cup of tea and chat with friends as their children play. After this ends around 11.30, I go down to Coffee Break, which is a slightly more posh version of Open Door, and basically means that there is no lunch, but a variety of nice cakes and scones are offered, as well as drinks other than coffee or tea. Hub Time then picks up where Coffee Break ends and I pretty much just do little odd jobs that need to be done, like putting together and stapling the church directory and stuffing envelopes. Fridays and Saturdays are my days off. So there's a quick run-down of what my week generally contains.
Hopes and Dreams
Being new to somewhere of course has its challenges. You usually need time to adjust and to get use to people and for them to get use to you. So I am looking forward to the times when I am no longer seen as the 'new gap-year volunteer', but simply as Candace (pronounced by most as Can-dees) and a part of the church family. During my first week of being in High Wycombe I was introduce to a couple of the young people at the church who are my age, Lindsay Dunford and Olie Wallbank. They seem really cool and were extremely warm and welcoming (as is most everyone here!), taking me places and letting me hang out with them and their friends. I am looking forward to getting to know them better and forming strong bonds that will last the rest of our lives. I have tried to be friendly and open, showing people love and respect and hoping that they know that I truly do care about them and desire to know them personally. So far it seems to be working, since some of the comments that I have been receiving always seem to involve the words 'smiley' and 'always happy'. My desire is to always be a help (since that is what I am here for) and that I always do the right thing.
Good So Far
Since I've gotten here I have been having fun pretty much non-stop! Everyone is so good to me and there is always something going on. Union Baptist is an awesome church and is well organized with great leadership who obviously love the Lord. God's word is closely followed and obeyed and His guidance is sought in prayer before and after everything (shortly, they pray a lot!!). The church is also extremely active in the community, offering ranging services that tailor to just about everyone's needs. And since it is about to go into its 162nd year, there is a rich tradition of service that has yet to falter. All in all, I absolutely LOVE it here and can't wait to see what develops next! I'll write again next month with more updates, as well as my new favorite words! So Cheers for now!!!!
Love,
Candace
October 2007
Happening this month!!!
This month has been sweet! It has been wonderful being a part of a lot of the activities going on at The Hub and building meaningful relationships. A big part of what I do is just being a companion to people, hanging out with them and listening to what they have to say, which has been a great experience. I have also been received extremely well. The folks of High Wycombe have taken me in and accepted me like I have always been here. If I can be honest, it does feel like I have lived here for a long time. That is how comfortable I am. In Kid's House and Beavers the children are starting to be more relaxed with me, which means that they like to jump all over me and try to put glue and paint on my face. In Open Door and Day Centre I feel more at ease with going up and engaging people. I find it a welcome challenge trying to figure out interesting things to talk about to help keep the conversation moving along. All in all, I am having an absolute blast and things are going smoothly!!
Some cool happenings!!
So, the Rugby World Cup was going on this month and I got super into it. I watch most of the games quite faithfully, rooting for my favorite teams (Togo, Samoa, and of course England). Since I wasn't initially that hip to all the rules of rugby, I asked other huge fans to explain a few things to me. Now, I'm not going to bore you with all of that (besides, I wouldn't be able to totally recount all the details for you anyways!), but I will say that it was great fun watching. England even made it all the way to the finals, but eventually succumbed to South Africa. Booooooo!!!!!!!! It was actually really sad; the nation went into this deep mourning period, with some horrified because they were so close, whilst others stated that they could have predicted that this was going to happen, saying that English teams always choke at the end. Harsh!
Halloween!!
I was interested to see how Halloween would be acknowledged over here in the UK, if at all. Though it is no where near the extravaganza of the US, there is some attention paid. Some adverts on TV were targeted towards the day, those mainly being for grocery stores. Here in town, I believe I saw two stores that had some merchandise, like costumes for children, some home decor and arts and crafts stuff. Pretty minimal. By asking people how they felt about it, it seems to me that it is seen in a mostly negative light. People don't really want their kids taking part in festivities, so when I went for a walk that evening, I saw a grand total of 5 trick-or-treaters, who were all dressed as witches and ghosts.
Big, HUGE thank you!!!!
I would just like to take a moment and thank everyone who contributed so generously towards this wonderful trip. I appreciate SO much every single person who has given me this gift. You are all awesome and I will definitely be taking advantage of the great opportunity. Thanks again!!!
Random story of the month
So, my friend Kelly and I decided to visit one of our other YAGM (Young Adults in Global Missions) friends, who was placed directly in London, for the weekend. We were having a great times cruisin' the streets, catchin' shows (we saw Fiddler on the Roof; so good!!!). Well, we were walking around China Town, looking at scarves and things, when all of a sudden I get whacked in the arm by something. And whatever hit me hit the guy in front of me, who promptly turned around to see what it was. So I'm looking at him and he's looking at me, totally confused, when we look down. Lo and behold, guess what it was; a cheese grater!!!! How random is that! This guy and I are looking up and around this street trying to see where it could have possibly come from, because it just didn't make any sense. We were walking along the street, with cars and buses on our right and the backs of the vendors to our left. It was so weird, and we literally stood there for like 3 minutes, in every one's way, half laughing and half offended. Yup, hope you enjoyed that as much as everyone that I have told has.
Love
Candace
Hello!!!!
Greetings from High Wycombe in Buckinghamshire England!!!!!!!! So, I made it here safe and sound after a 9 hour flight and was met at the exit by Sue Horswell (my host mum) and Pastor John Roberts, the head pastor at Union Baptist Church where I am giving my time. I am residing in a lovely neighborhood, and as High Wycombe is a very hilly town there are great views of the surrounding areas. It is great walking around town, using the public footpaths that wind between houses and through parks. My house is about 30 minutes away from the church, which is an easy walk into town. In addition, it's very diverse here, with many different cultures represented. A large part of the population, though, is Pakistani, which was a bit of a surprise, yet cool. Where I live is known a High Wycombe and is surrounded by large hills, though I can go about 8 minutes out of the town center (the high street) in one direction and be in town called Marlow, but then go in yet another direction and be in a town called Penn. It is amazing how closely linked the regions all are!
Introductions: My Awesome Schedule
For my first week I was allowed to rest and let the knowledge of what I had actually done sink in. But I also got a chance to meet with my supervisor, the associate Pastor Tim O'Brien, and to get a little preview of what I'd be doing each day. I was introduced to The Hub, the community center that is a part of Union Baptist and hosts a range of activities and is rented out by many groups and organizations. So on Sundays, I help out with Kid's House in Sunday school. The kids are between the ages of 5 and 8 years old and they play games, learn Bible stories on a level that they can comprehend and then do arts and crafts related to these stories. Then on Mondays, I do some church work, like filling in Hope Street registrations (that is what the children and young people's program is called). Then in the evenings I take part in Beavers, boy and girl scouts ages 6 to 8, who also do little crafts and play a lot of games, though they still do other activities that help them to earn their merit badges. Tuesdays there is Open Door, a drop in center where people who are homeless or lonely can come and have a cheap lunch for 50 pence, and services are available for those who would like to have a shower and have their clothes washed. It is an awesome opportunity to meet people in need and to just talk with and encourage them, hopefully taking their minds off their worries for a couple hours. Then at 8 in the evening I am a part of a home group Bible study that is led by my host dad and attended by about 7 members of the church. It is a good time to come together and have fellowship with people I wouldn't see all that often otherwise. Wednesdays host Day Center, a chance for the elderly, who normally aren't able to leave their homes or care facilities, to get out and meet with their friends and to enjoy a service and a nice meal. On Thursdays there is Mums and Toddlers, where mums can come with their little ones and have a cup of tea and chat with friends as their children play. After this ends around 11.30, I go down to Coffee Break, which is a slightly more posh version of Open Door, and basically means that there is no lunch, but a variety of nice cakes and scones are offered, as well as drinks other than coffee or tea. Hub Time then picks up where Coffee Break ends and I pretty much just do little odd jobs that need to be done, like putting together and stapling the church directory and stuffing envelopes. Fridays and Saturdays are my days off. So there's a quick run-down of what my week generally contains.
Hopes and Dreams
Being new to somewhere of course has its challenges. You usually need time to adjust and to get use to people and for them to get use to you. So I am looking forward to the times when I am no longer seen as the 'new gap-year volunteer', but simply as Candace (pronounced by most as Can-dees) and a part of the church family. During my first week of being in High Wycombe I was introduce to a couple of the young people at the church who are my age, Lindsay Dunford and Olie Wallbank. They seem really cool and were extremely warm and welcoming (as is most everyone here!), taking me places and letting me hang out with them and their friends. I am looking forward to getting to know them better and forming strong bonds that will last the rest of our lives. I have tried to be friendly and open, showing people love and respect and hoping that they know that I truly do care about them and desire to know them personally. So far it seems to be working, since some of the comments that I have been receiving always seem to involve the words 'smiley' and 'always happy'. My desire is to always be a help (since that is what I am here for) and that I always do the right thing.
Good So Far
Since I've gotten here I have been having fun pretty much non-stop! Everyone is so good to me and there is always something going on. Union Baptist is an awesome church and is well organized with great leadership who obviously love the Lord. God's word is closely followed and obeyed and His guidance is sought in prayer before and after everything (shortly, they pray a lot!!). The church is also extremely active in the community, offering ranging services that tailor to just about everyone's needs. And since it is about to go into its 162nd year, there is a rich tradition of service that has yet to falter. All in all, I absolutely LOVE it here and can't wait to see what develops next! I'll write again next month with more updates, as well as my new favorite words! So Cheers for now!!!!
Love,
Candace
October 2007
Happening this month!!!
This month has been sweet! It has been wonderful being a part of a lot of the activities going on at The Hub and building meaningful relationships. A big part of what I do is just being a companion to people, hanging out with them and listening to what they have to say, which has been a great experience. I have also been received extremely well. The folks of High Wycombe have taken me in and accepted me like I have always been here. If I can be honest, it does feel like I have lived here for a long time. That is how comfortable I am. In Kid's House and Beavers the children are starting to be more relaxed with me, which means that they like to jump all over me and try to put glue and paint on my face. In Open Door and Day Centre I feel more at ease with going up and engaging people. I find it a welcome challenge trying to figure out interesting things to talk about to help keep the conversation moving along. All in all, I am having an absolute blast and things are going smoothly!!
Some cool happenings!!
So, the Rugby World Cup was going on this month and I got super into it. I watch most of the games quite faithfully, rooting for my favorite teams (Togo, Samoa, and of course England). Since I wasn't initially that hip to all the rules of rugby, I asked other huge fans to explain a few things to me. Now, I'm not going to bore you with all of that (besides, I wouldn't be able to totally recount all the details for you anyways!), but I will say that it was great fun watching. England even made it all the way to the finals, but eventually succumbed to South Africa. Booooooo!!!!!!!! It was actually really sad; the nation went into this deep mourning period, with some horrified because they were so close, whilst others stated that they could have predicted that this was going to happen, saying that English teams always choke at the end. Harsh!
Halloween!!
I was interested to see how Halloween would be acknowledged over here in the UK, if at all. Though it is no where near the extravaganza of the US, there is some attention paid. Some adverts on TV were targeted towards the day, those mainly being for grocery stores. Here in town, I believe I saw two stores that had some merchandise, like costumes for children, some home decor and arts and crafts stuff. Pretty minimal. By asking people how they felt about it, it seems to me that it is seen in a mostly negative light. People don't really want their kids taking part in festivities, so when I went for a walk that evening, I saw a grand total of 5 trick-or-treaters, who were all dressed as witches and ghosts.
Big, HUGE thank you!!!!
I would just like to take a moment and thank everyone who contributed so generously towards this wonderful trip. I appreciate SO much every single person who has given me this gift. You are all awesome and I will definitely be taking advantage of the great opportunity. Thanks again!!!
Random story of the month
So, my friend Kelly and I decided to visit one of our other YAGM (Young Adults in Global Missions) friends, who was placed directly in London, for the weekend. We were having a great times cruisin' the streets, catchin' shows (we saw Fiddler on the Roof; so good!!!). Well, we were walking around China Town, looking at scarves and things, when all of a sudden I get whacked in the arm by something. And whatever hit me hit the guy in front of me, who promptly turned around to see what it was. So I'm looking at him and he's looking at me, totally confused, when we look down. Lo and behold, guess what it was; a cheese grater!!!! How random is that! This guy and I are looking up and around this street trying to see where it could have possibly come from, because it just didn't make any sense. We were walking along the street, with cars and buses on our right and the backs of the vendors to our left. It was so weird, and we literally stood there for like 3 minutes, in every one's way, half laughing and half offended. Yup, hope you enjoyed that as much as everyone that I have told has.
Love
Candace
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Sukhamano, state-siders, Issue 3 - Rob in India
07-08 India - Rob playing instrument at College Choir Concert in December
Originally uploaded by YAGM
I'm dreaming of a green Christmas here in Kerala. This is the November newsletter, but it's already the second week of December, and I can't help but feel a little holiday cheer. This past week we had both the Kottayam Mixed Voices Christmas concert, and the College Choir carol service. They were a heap of fun and have adequately set the mood for the season, even though this climate is opposite to the snowy plains of Minnesota.
November was a month of traveling hither and thither across Kerala. As a foreigner I receive invitations to visit homes, churches, work places, schools, and villages almost every day – sometimes even from complete strangers. In the past month I've been agreeing to most of these proposals (except for the ones from strangers) and it's taken me all across this great state and yielded many many very wonderful experiences. Actually, these wonderful experiences are so numerous that this newsletter cannot contain them. On my blog you can find a couple articles that contain more details and even a measure of personal reflection about these travels.
At the beginning of November I began visiting a home for boys in a small village outside Kottayam. These boys range in age from elementary to undergraduate and come from mostly very poor families. Our ability to communicate verbally is somewhat limited, but as our activities consist mostly of playing cricket and running around like crazy animals, this doesn't present much of a problem. I also have to be on my toes to respond to calls of "Uncle, uncle!" - which is the rough equivalent to "Look at me!" Usually this means that one of the boys has scaled the wall and is hanging from the fan , or that one boy has successfully trapped another boy in a professional-wrestling-style headlock. What can I say, these guys are charming (if challenging) and I'm excited to bond with them over the next months.
I also checked a life goal off of my list this month - to be a voice actor in an animated film. The Malayalam language newspaper "Malayala Manorama" has a division to develop CD-ROMs for educational purposes. Their latest project is a series of animated children's stories. The disc comes with the option to hear the story read by a Malayali or by an American (I play the part of the American). As a side note, I also made my big screen debut this month in the Malayalam language film Of the People. I play an American, and I have no lines. I can't exactly explain how these people or projects find me, but perhaps it has something to do with being the only white guy around.
I'm also continuing with my normal duties in Kottayam, namely language and culture courses with undergraduates and graduate students, weekly classes with 3rd and 4th graders at a nearby school, nightly visits to the Bishop Mani Theological Institute to help train lay people for seminary entrance exams, and lots of other interactions with the students of C.M.S. College. But in-between all of this I've been squeezing in many music rehearsals and a lot of side travels (which I chronicle in detail on the blog).
I'm starting to feel at home here in Kerala, even though the language barrier and constant stares are not bound to go away anytime soon. I've made some very close friends and I'm enjoying my invovement with the different projects. The diversity and frequency of experiences here far outpaces my ability to fully process them, but I can always "process" later. As always, I cherish your news from home. Thank you all for your continued interest and support. Happy holidays, my friends.
Weekend and Vishnu's: An Adventure
If variety is the spice of life, then uncertainty must be the chili pepper of life. When Vishnu invited me to his home in a rural fishing village one Saturday, I had no idea what to expect and I wasn't even sure how to get there. I hopped on a bus going in the general direction, told the fare collector the name of the stop and desperately hoped he would alert me when we had reached my destination. He didn't, but luckily Vishnu caught site of my paleness shining from within the public bus and shouted at me to get down at once.
He led me through the narrow dirt path to his neighborhood, a collection of about 10 or 15 houses surrounded on three sides by lush green rice paddies. After meeting most of his immediate and extended family along the path we finally made it to Vishnu's humble house, where he invited me in for breakfast. We ate in the dining room / living room / bedroom / entryway. The entire house consisted of two bedrooms, a kitchen and this multi-purpose room. Vishnu, his parents, his two sisters and grandmother all lived together in this house that, in terms of total area, was roughly the size of my room at C.M.S. College. At this moment the fact that even as a volunteer I'm not really "roughing it" hit me like a ton of bricks. But Vishnu was not ashamed to bring me to his home. He did not invite me to his home to expose the horrors of poverty, to pump me for money or even to make me feel guilty. He wanted me to meet his family and he wanted to show me the beautiful paddies and backwaters that surround his village.
Vishnu's parents were away at work when I arrived. They are both daily wage earners (as is nearly everyone in the village.) His father works on a boat where his job is to actually catch fish by hand by diving to the lakebed and scooping up a precious form of fish that hides in the mud. Simply amazing.
After breakfast we decided to take a dip in the lake near his house - it was already blazingly hot outside. I didn't think to bring a swimming suit but, no problem, Vishnu provided me with a towel to cover myself. The downside, the towel was roughly the size of a dishrag. It fell about midway down my thigh and didn't quite make it all the way around my waist. Not wanting to be a wet rag myself, so to speak, I donned said cover and hopped into the water with Vishnu and some of his friends and relatives from the village. It was truly a marvelous time and we spent a good amount of energy diving for clamshells. I definitely lost my towel a few times during the swim, but I always managed to find it again despite the murkiness of the water. You can see a bunch of pictures from this part of the adventure on my web album.
After drying off and redressing we grabbed a quick bite of rice and sambar and headed off for the next adventure, the bird sanctuary. As there seem to be strict host/guest rules here, the boys insisted on paying my entrance to the sanctuary. Well, I thought to myself, I doubt it's very expensive. I was half right. The entrance for each of them was only 5 rupees, but my entrance came to a whopping 45 rupees, three times the others guys' fee combined. But they paid it gladly and we were off. The area was really beautiful but the best part about this walk was the conversation that happened along the way. It was here that Vishnu told me that he had been accepted into the Indian Navy. By accepting the position he has agreed to serve for the next 15 years. He also will have to leave college before completing his degree in order to attend training in January. Unlike in America where people join the armed forces to help pay for their studies, in India when you join the armed forces you must abandon your studies. The upside, however, is job security for the next 15 years, and a pension upon completion. Compared with the staggering unemployment rate in Kerala, this doesn't seem like such a bad decision.
As night approached I hopped a bus back to campus and reflected on the day. I was truly moved by Vishnu's sincerity and generosity. He shared his home, his food, and the foremost thoughts on his mind with me. In two weeks it's likely that I will never see Vishnu again, but I think we will both remember the day in the village for a very long time.
October Newsletter
In Kerala, every day is a surprise. Surprise! There is another college strike today. Surprise! It's a torrential downpour during the dry season. Surprise! No power or running water today. Surprise! You're leading a two-hour class and it starts in three minutes. I'm learning a whole new way to be flexible. This culture has instilled in me something that is really true in all cultures – life cannot be trusted to behave.
Though I've continued regularly with some of the programs that I mentioned last month (choir rehearsals and interaction with students young and old), October was the month of side-projects.
In the beginning of the month I accompanied a group of youths (ages 14-19) on a weekend retreat. These kids were from the Mar Thoma Church, a reformed outgrowth of the Syrian Orthodox Church, which is a unique export of Kerala. I was asked to join them because; you guessed it, they wanted me to lead the singing portions of their camp. Never mind the fact that out of the 30 kids I only recognized two of the faces, I was excited to join in for the ride. The site was located a couple hours from Kottayam town, so we had to take a bus - we took a public bus actually. How do I describe public buses? Have you ever seen that picture of eight or nine college dudes all smashed into a phone booth? It's kind of like that, only horizontal and accelerating at 40 to 50 Mph. It's also exciting watching thirty people expulse themselves from the bus while strangers help hurl the bags, speakers and musical instruments out of the windows to "catchers" below. Long story short, I had a great weekend and met a lot of really enjoyable people. I also saw a very large python (in a cage).
Keeping with the meeting random church people theme, I spent five days at a "Kerala Pastor's and Christian Workers Conference" early in the month. The main speakers, strangely, were Americans, but the true joy of the conference was meeting pastors (Achens) from every corner of Kerala. I heard about pastoral life from the chilly foothills of the Western Ghat Mountains to the impoverished urban slums in the state's capital, Trivandrum. I also met some young volunteers from various states in the north of India (where Malayalam is not spoken.) We compared our experiences as outsiders in Kerala. Was it better, in my case, to be a foreigner and have everyone recognize you as such? Or was it better, in their case, to be an outsider and have everyone assume you're local? We finally settled on some common ground, the Malayalam language is really hard to pronounce, no matter who you are.
At the conference they screened a documentary that was called India Untouched. It was an interfaith, interstate, look at the continuing caste related struggles throughout India. It showed that not only Hindus, but Muslims and Christians continue to face discrimination based on caste. I found the portion of the movie set in Kerala to be of particular interest. Everyone they interviewed said, "There is no caste problem left in Kerala"or "We have eradicated caste," etc. The next shot was of a boarding school clearly divided along caste lines, with the low caste children forced to do the menial chores while the high caste children played freely. Even in my short time here I can count numerous occasions when people have told me, with complete sincerity, that there is no caste problem in Kerala. I've been fortunate this month to have some really enlightening interactions with members of the dalit (oppressed) community. You can read more about those experiences in "Thursdays with Christopher Achen."
On a side-note about side-projects, I also visited the original burial place of Vasco de Gama in Cochin (before he was returned to Lisbon) and began playing in nightly badminton games which have been happening uninterrupted for over 30 years! The excitement never stops, and neither should your letters, e-mails and warm wishes. Thanks again for all of your support.
Thursdays with Christopher Achen
Christopher Achen is a pastor in the C.S.I. (Church of South India) and a member of the dalit community. At present he travels five hours twice a week to receive dialysis treatment. As a result, work on his doctoral thesis (concering dalit Christians in central Kerala) and his work in the church have come to a grinding halt. His role as teacher and his role as student have been put on hold. But since I met him by chance one month ago, he has become an important teacher to me.
It all began one day when a surprise strike on campus instantly cleared my schedule. One of the graduate students, Albin, approached me and said "I have to go fix Christopher Achen's computer, you are coming with me?" I wasn't sure if that was an offer or a command, but I decided I should probably go with him.
While Albin repaired the ailing computer, Achen and I engaged in general "get to know you" subjects, you know, the effects of capitalism on an agrarian society, the plight of unemployment in Kerala and the dilemmas facing of the church today. Though initially I was reluctant to follow Albin on his errand, when he finished his work I found that I didn't want to leave – this Christopher Achen had some truly fascinating insights about important issues in Kerala today.
Ever since that first meeting I've been visiting Achen every Thursday afternoon. I go Thursday because his treatments are on Tuesday and Friday, and Thursday is a solid in-between day. I go in the afternoon because that's when Kochamma (his wife) makes the most splendid Chai (tea) I think I've ever had.
Every week, Achen unfolds the story of his life a little more. He tells me about his struggles to receive higher education despite discouragement from the synod. He tells me about protest marches to the Bishop's house demanding fair representation for dalits in the clergy (this agitation actually got results). He tells me about the disproportionate aid allotted to the already wealthy congregations instead of to the poorest congregations who deal with crumbling churches and dilapidated parsonages.
Last Thursday he left me with an image that I will not soon forget. Mid-sentence he paused, let out a brief, punchy laugh and stated very matter-of-factly, "Jesus has escaped the church." It actually had the same cadence as, "Elvis has left the building." He paused, I laughed. We both continued in open laughter - I mean, just picture it. Jesus, utterly frustrated, hopping off the cross, busting right out through the stained glass depiction of the last supper, and fleeing with Godly speed down the gravel path. I'm not sure about the theological implications of this image, but the point is valid. If the church looks to Jesus as its model for behavior, some of the behavior it has shown would scare the bejeezus out of Jesus. Christopher Achen is my guide through this dark side of the Church, but he is also my encourager in the hope that remains in this ancient organization.
Election Reflection
The process of announcing a new Catholic Pope is a strange one; it involves multiple colors of smoke and very old men. I would place the posting of the results for the C.M.S. College student government on that same level in terms of oddity.
On the top floor of the Physics department a special committee counts the ballots by hand. Each result is carefully written out on piece of paper and hurled out of the window. Everyone sprints to the piece of paper, someone grabs it, shouts out the results, and every member of the elect's party runs and screams and grabs and jumps and dances in support. This process continues on for a couple of hours until all the positions have been named, then the victorious party processes out of the gates into the city, waving flags and shouting slogans. Meanwhile, a veritable battalion of cops armed with helmets and batons look on in case a rival political faction decides to cause trouble. There was no trouble this year, but school was cancelled the following day as a precautionary measure. I have additional photos of the elections and a video of the victory march posted on my album and blog respectively.
Matt's Christmas Newsletter - UK
Merry Christmas
Happy New Year
From Stirling, Scotland.
Vol. 3
Hello all and welcome to my Christmas Newsletter! This month finds me spending the holidays in a new country with a new family and new friends! I have experienced many new things and am looking forward to a Scottish Christmas!
The youth of the church are excited about our Christmas service we are preparing for the congregation and many of the University students are getting ready for tests before spending some well earned time off.
I will be playing in a Scottish Ceilidh band this Christmas at the youth Christmas party. They may even manage to get me in a kilt. We will see!
It will be hard to be away from my family and friends back home. I will miss my Colorado Christmas, but it will give me warm feelings to remember all of you and what you will be doing with your families.
More than ever now, I realize how much this life is about being together with the ones you love. Not just at Christmas time but every day. Every day it’s about making human contact with another person. In a world where it’s so easy to ‘tune out’ and not associate with anybody for long periods of time, the challenge to us is to break that norm and spend some time with another human being.
Thank God for friends and family this time of year!
For many people this time of year can be really hard. Actually it can be the hardest time of year. For just as the good feelings are increased when you’re together the bad feelings multiply when you are not. They can be absolutely horrible if you know you will never be able to spend time with that person again.
This is the reason Jesus came. He came to a hurting dark world. He came that this world may have life and have it to the full! To have light in the dark. So whether you find yourself with friends and family this Christmas or without, know that Jesus is the reason for all this crazy fuss this time of year. The only thing He would ask of us I think is to stop and remember that He came to this earth to love you. That’s it! To show you that there is light in this dark world and He loves you. May we all remember this year.
Matt
Top Ten Things I Will Miss This Christmas
1. My Family!
2. My friends!
3. Christmas Eve Candle Light Service.
4. SNOW! Though I will have plenty of rain this year.
5. My mums food and cookies!
6. Watching loads of Christmas movies and tv!
7. The Mountains!
8. Watching loads of Christmas movies and tv!
9. Laughing with my crazy family on Christmas eve.
10. Going out in my car and looking at Christmas lights.
Happy New Year
From Stirling, Scotland.
Vol. 3
Hello all and welcome to my Christmas Newsletter! This month finds me spending the holidays in a new country with a new family and new friends! I have experienced many new things and am looking forward to a Scottish Christmas!
The youth of the church are excited about our Christmas service we are preparing for the congregation and many of the University students are getting ready for tests before spending some well earned time off.
I will be playing in a Scottish Ceilidh band this Christmas at the youth Christmas party. They may even manage to get me in a kilt. We will see!
It will be hard to be away from my family and friends back home. I will miss my Colorado Christmas, but it will give me warm feelings to remember all of you and what you will be doing with your families.
More than ever now, I realize how much this life is about being together with the ones you love. Not just at Christmas time but every day. Every day it’s about making human contact with another person. In a world where it’s so easy to ‘tune out’ and not associate with anybody for long periods of time, the challenge to us is to break that norm and spend some time with another human being.
Thank God for friends and family this time of year!
For many people this time of year can be really hard. Actually it can be the hardest time of year. For just as the good feelings are increased when you’re together the bad feelings multiply when you are not. They can be absolutely horrible if you know you will never be able to spend time with that person again.
This is the reason Jesus came. He came to a hurting dark world. He came that this world may have life and have it to the full! To have light in the dark. So whether you find yourself with friends and family this Christmas or without, know that Jesus is the reason for all this crazy fuss this time of year. The only thing He would ask of us I think is to stop and remember that He came to this earth to love you. That’s it! To show you that there is light in this dark world and He loves you. May we all remember this year.
Matt
Top Ten Things I Will Miss This Christmas
1. My Family!
2. My friends!
3. Christmas Eve Candle Light Service.
4. SNOW! Though I will have plenty of rain this year.
5. My mums food and cookies!
6. Watching loads of Christmas movies and tv!
7. The Mountains!
8. Watching loads of Christmas movies and tv!
9. Laughing with my crazy family on Christmas eve.
10. Going out in my car and looking at Christmas lights.
Monday, December 17, 2007
November Newsletter - Amanda in the UK
October/November Newsletter
Let me just say that autumn in London is lovely. It's my first fall; and I don't just mean "my first fall in England" but my first fall ever. Since North Dakota contains the geographical centre of North America, we are as far from the sea as possible. This makes weather extreme and unpredictable; and between the hot and dry summers and artic winters are a few wet, gloomy weeks that constitute our fall. It may snow one day and be hot the next, plunging us into a sort of seasonal limbo where one never knows what to wear. And as soon as the leaves begin to turn and it sort of resembles fall, a strong wind comes and blows the trees naked.
So, like I said, this is my first authentic fall; and I am in awe at the spectrum of colors in the trees that have yet to drop their leaves. London weather is remarkably consistent (compared to North Dakota; Londoners would likely disagree with this); yet I realize that my experience thus far has been anything but predictable.
This is often true when we follow our dreams. I'm an avid dreamer, one who is not content being "comfortable" but instead seeks adventure and new experiences. One longstanding dream of mine is to sacrifice a year of my life for global mission. Now, I'm not quite sure where this dreams stems from; perhaps I'd like to use my talents and gifts to heal a very needy world, or maybe I'd like to relieve some of the guilt of being a westerner and living in the top 98% of the world's wealthiest. Either way, these desires were in my mind as I searched for a way to "escape" the real world and postpone getting a real job.
The ELCA's Young Adults in Global Mission program seemed perfectly suited to my desires. I would get to travel abroad and serve for a while, returning safely in a year with a clearer conscious and the readiness to face my next stages in life. They often use the phrase "gap year" here in the UK, and that's precisely how I saw it: a small break from the normalities of life, in which I can be a full time servant of God. As a missionary I could devote all of my time to God for a year before returning to the responsibilities of everyday life.
During the application process, I had many visions for this coming year. And even when my expectations of living in a hut in Africa were changed to living in Primrose Hill London, I still had ideas of what this year would be like. For example, I expected to be an essential member of the congregation, one who makes real changes and differences. I hoped to find my church to be welcoming and thankful for the sacrifices that I've made. I was excited for "youth work," imaging myself in a position similar to the youth pastors who have been a part of my life. And I assumed that my past legacy in youth work would make me a valuable member, fully prepared to whip out any song or game for any occasion. In other words, I saw what I wanted to see in my placement.
Now expectations aren't always bad or wrong. But I soon realized that youth work is not the same in inner city London as it is in Bismarck, North Dakota. Big surprise, huh? But I was so pumped up by my own vision that I did not give this much thought. More than anything, I underestimated the amount of cultural differences between the United States and England; and most significantly, between a rural environment and that of inner city London. The young people we work with have a completely different background. Their environment is not the rolling prairie but the bustling streets of London. Just down the street from Haverstock Secondary School is the highest concentration of illegal drug trade in Europe. The borough of Camden is also known for its youth gangs, both male and female. Some of our young people have had friends who got mixed up with the gangs and have been attacked, even stabbed.
Talk about culture shock. Nothing in my past youth work prepared me for this. The disparity between my dreams and the reality of my work is my toughest challenge. I soon realized that I would not be the beloved youth leader who organizes pizza parties and lock-ins. I was clearly outside of the "Midwestern bubble." But would I be of any use? How can I even begin to relate to these young people?
I remember a particular moment that illustrated my outsider position. Twice a week, we go into Haverstock Secondary School during the lunchtime hour with the aim of building relationships with the students. I've always found it rather awkward and intimidating to approach a group of teenagers and convince them that you are cool enough to talk to. Anyway, about a month into my program, my coworker Anna and I managed to convince a group of year sevens (sixth graders) to talk to us. Initially, we found much to chat about; the girls discussed their classes, complained about homework, and proudly told of the upcoming school play.
It felt wonderful to be in discussion with these kids, and to find common ground in their familiar school experiences. One of the girls said very little, but listened intently to her friends and smiled quite often. I saw I bit of myself in her, remembering being shy and timid in middle school. I gave her an encouraging smile and felt that I "understood" her.
Then, out of nowhere, a friend of hers approached and discretely pulled her out of the group. I asked the others what was going on and they informed me, rather nonchalantly, that she had to follow through with a fight. Apparently a student had been shooting her dirty looks, and therefore she was compelled to fight her. I reacted to the situation with the proscribed response: "But fighting doesn't solve anything." The most vocal of the girls looked me square in the face and responded: "But you're paid to say that!"
I didn't know what to say. She revealed the truth, though; even though I was not told to say that, I certainly chose the cliché response. And in doing so I revealed my ignorance. To her, I wasn't a sympathizing friend, but another adult on the outside of the situation, incapable and unwilling to understand.
After the bell rang, I turned to Anna and expressed my surprise and frustration that these young girls were so willing to fight over such petty circumstances. When I was in school, fights between boys were rare, and unheard of between girls. How, then, do we begin to solve these problems? Anna responded, "For them, it's a way of life." I felt chastised. Rather than being a sympathetic ear, I, as an outsider, tried to come in and immediately "fix" the situation. I was frustrated at the reality of fighting but more so at my own ignorance. It was at this moment that I felt most out of place at St. Mary's.
My next meeting with my supervisor was a tear-filled one that centered on these frustrations. I confessed to Paul that I felt utterly incapable of doing youth work in an inner-city environment. Nothing in my childhood enabled me to relate to these young people. Why am I here, and what difference can I possibly make?
Paul agreed that this will be one of my challenges; but he helped me to see how my outsider position can also be my greatest strength. It will probably be hardest for me to form relationships with the youth; but unlike the youth workers who are natives of Camden, I bring a different perspective on life. My unique cultural background is testimony to a different way of living. This is not to say that I must "evangelize" my own personal experiences, but that together we can share experiences and challenge each other to think more broadly.
I've carried Paul's encouragement ever since. My work continues to be challenging, but I've increasingly felt more confident in my ability to reach our young people. Truly these young people deal with so much—drugs, gangs, fights—but still they remain kids. I've slowed down and reminded myself not to categorize them or assume that they are restricted by these challenges. Instead I've begun the long process of knowing each young personal individually, expecting to be surprised and challenged by their unique perspectives on life.
My work here has been anything but a cakewalk. I've been continuously challenged, stretched in every direction, and knocked down by my own preconceived notions and stereotypes. I'm not the local youth leader that I've always admired and wanted to be. I'm still uncomfortable with much of my work and unsure of the impact I am making. But I also see unexpected growth inside of me that has come out of the journey. Rather than regretting that I don't have the idyllic youth leader role of some of my friends, I thank God for the challenge and for giving me just enough courage to continue the journey.
I'd like to thank all of your for your prayers and supports. And thanks so much to those who have sent greetings and cards to my home. I can't express how encouraging it has been. The cards always seem to find me on my bad days, when I am lonely and feeling despondent. The thought of all of my friends and family back home has truly been what has kept me going when times are rough.
Please take care, and I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving! Until next time,
Peace and God bless,
Amanda
Let me just say that autumn in London is lovely. It's my first fall; and I don't just mean "my first fall in England" but my first fall ever. Since North Dakota contains the geographical centre of North America, we are as far from the sea as possible. This makes weather extreme and unpredictable; and between the hot and dry summers and artic winters are a few wet, gloomy weeks that constitute our fall. It may snow one day and be hot the next, plunging us into a sort of seasonal limbo where one never knows what to wear. And as soon as the leaves begin to turn and it sort of resembles fall, a strong wind comes and blows the trees naked.
So, like I said, this is my first authentic fall; and I am in awe at the spectrum of colors in the trees that have yet to drop their leaves. London weather is remarkably consistent (compared to North Dakota; Londoners would likely disagree with this); yet I realize that my experience thus far has been anything but predictable.
This is often true when we follow our dreams. I'm an avid dreamer, one who is not content being "comfortable" but instead seeks adventure and new experiences. One longstanding dream of mine is to sacrifice a year of my life for global mission. Now, I'm not quite sure where this dreams stems from; perhaps I'd like to use my talents and gifts to heal a very needy world, or maybe I'd like to relieve some of the guilt of being a westerner and living in the top 98% of the world's wealthiest. Either way, these desires were in my mind as I searched for a way to "escape" the real world and postpone getting a real job.
The ELCA's Young Adults in Global Mission program seemed perfectly suited to my desires. I would get to travel abroad and serve for a while, returning safely in a year with a clearer conscious and the readiness to face my next stages in life. They often use the phrase "gap year" here in the UK, and that's precisely how I saw it: a small break from the normalities of life, in which I can be a full time servant of God. As a missionary I could devote all of my time to God for a year before returning to the responsibilities of everyday life.
During the application process, I had many visions for this coming year. And even when my expectations of living in a hut in Africa were changed to living in Primrose Hill London, I still had ideas of what this year would be like. For example, I expected to be an essential member of the congregation, one who makes real changes and differences. I hoped to find my church to be welcoming and thankful for the sacrifices that I've made. I was excited for "youth work," imaging myself in a position similar to the youth pastors who have been a part of my life. And I assumed that my past legacy in youth work would make me a valuable member, fully prepared to whip out any song or game for any occasion. In other words, I saw what I wanted to see in my placement.
Now expectations aren't always bad or wrong. But I soon realized that youth work is not the same in inner city London as it is in Bismarck, North Dakota. Big surprise, huh? But I was so pumped up by my own vision that I did not give this much thought. More than anything, I underestimated the amount of cultural differences between the United States and England; and most significantly, between a rural environment and that of inner city London. The young people we work with have a completely different background. Their environment is not the rolling prairie but the bustling streets of London. Just down the street from Haverstock Secondary School is the highest concentration of illegal drug trade in Europe. The borough of Camden is also known for its youth gangs, both male and female. Some of our young people have had friends who got mixed up with the gangs and have been attacked, even stabbed.
Talk about culture shock. Nothing in my past youth work prepared me for this. The disparity between my dreams and the reality of my work is my toughest challenge. I soon realized that I would not be the beloved youth leader who organizes pizza parties and lock-ins. I was clearly outside of the "Midwestern bubble." But would I be of any use? How can I even begin to relate to these young people?
I remember a particular moment that illustrated my outsider position. Twice a week, we go into Haverstock Secondary School during the lunchtime hour with the aim of building relationships with the students. I've always found it rather awkward and intimidating to approach a group of teenagers and convince them that you are cool enough to talk to. Anyway, about a month into my program, my coworker Anna and I managed to convince a group of year sevens (sixth graders) to talk to us. Initially, we found much to chat about; the girls discussed their classes, complained about homework, and proudly told of the upcoming school play.
It felt wonderful to be in discussion with these kids, and to find common ground in their familiar school experiences. One of the girls said very little, but listened intently to her friends and smiled quite often. I saw I bit of myself in her, remembering being shy and timid in middle school. I gave her an encouraging smile and felt that I "understood" her.
Then, out of nowhere, a friend of hers approached and discretely pulled her out of the group. I asked the others what was going on and they informed me, rather nonchalantly, that she had to follow through with a fight. Apparently a student had been shooting her dirty looks, and therefore she was compelled to fight her. I reacted to the situation with the proscribed response: "But fighting doesn't solve anything." The most vocal of the girls looked me square in the face and responded: "But you're paid to say that!"
I didn't know what to say. She revealed the truth, though; even though I was not told to say that, I certainly chose the cliché response. And in doing so I revealed my ignorance. To her, I wasn't a sympathizing friend, but another adult on the outside of the situation, incapable and unwilling to understand.
After the bell rang, I turned to Anna and expressed my surprise and frustration that these young girls were so willing to fight over such petty circumstances. When I was in school, fights between boys were rare, and unheard of between girls. How, then, do we begin to solve these problems? Anna responded, "For them, it's a way of life." I felt chastised. Rather than being a sympathetic ear, I, as an outsider, tried to come in and immediately "fix" the situation. I was frustrated at the reality of fighting but more so at my own ignorance. It was at this moment that I felt most out of place at St. Mary's.
My next meeting with my supervisor was a tear-filled one that centered on these frustrations. I confessed to Paul that I felt utterly incapable of doing youth work in an inner-city environment. Nothing in my childhood enabled me to relate to these young people. Why am I here, and what difference can I possibly make?
Paul agreed that this will be one of my challenges; but he helped me to see how my outsider position can also be my greatest strength. It will probably be hardest for me to form relationships with the youth; but unlike the youth workers who are natives of Camden, I bring a different perspective on life. My unique cultural background is testimony to a different way of living. This is not to say that I must "evangelize" my own personal experiences, but that together we can share experiences and challenge each other to think more broadly.
I've carried Paul's encouragement ever since. My work continues to be challenging, but I've increasingly felt more confident in my ability to reach our young people. Truly these young people deal with so much—drugs, gangs, fights—but still they remain kids. I've slowed down and reminded myself not to categorize them or assume that they are restricted by these challenges. Instead I've begun the long process of knowing each young personal individually, expecting to be surprised and challenged by their unique perspectives on life.
My work here has been anything but a cakewalk. I've been continuously challenged, stretched in every direction, and knocked down by my own preconceived notions and stereotypes. I'm not the local youth leader that I've always admired and wanted to be. I'm still uncomfortable with much of my work and unsure of the impact I am making. But I also see unexpected growth inside of me that has come out of the journey. Rather than regretting that I don't have the idyllic youth leader role of some of my friends, I thank God for the challenge and for giving me just enough courage to continue the journey.
I'd like to thank all of your for your prayers and supports. And thanks so much to those who have sent greetings and cards to my home. I can't express how encouraging it has been. The cards always seem to find me on my bad days, when I am lonely and feeling despondent. The thought of all of my friends and family back home has truly been what has kept me going when times are rough.
Please take care, and I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving! Until next time,
Peace and God bless,
Amanda
Merry Christmas! Update from Gatundu, Kenya - Sarah L.
November-December Newsletter: Update from Gatundu, Kenya
God is good. All the time.
All the time. God is good.
Wow. It's already Christmas time and as always, I am very late in
sending an update. When I last wrote, I had not even begun teaching at
Icaciri Secondary School! Currently, the school is on "holiday" for 5
weeks until we begin a new school year in January. Next term I will
continue to teach Form 1 and 2 (9th and 10th grade) English.
I definitely have a newfound appreciation for teachers. It is a lot of
work! I thoroughly enjoyed myself, however. What you may notice about
me when I return is I now enunciate like nobody's business. =) What is
typically pronounced as "I don know" in America, is now, "I don-t
know." The "t" has it's own syllable! Last term, I had about 40
students in each of my Form 1 and Form 2 classes. I will continue with
the same Form 1 class as they are now Form 2s, and I will have the new
Form 1s fresh from primary school. I'm excited to go back to Gatundu
and get started with the new year.
As I wrote in my last newsletter, I "competed" in the Nairobi
International Marathon's 10k race. I finished and even ran across the
finish line. For those of you who know me, I don't run unless I'm
being chased. =) I also attended a Kikuyu wedding of the woman who
sells me my weekly vegetables in the Gatundu market. Unlike the
35-minute wedding ceremonies in the U.S., this service was over four
hours long. The service even included a "talent show" of sorts, when
all of the guests were invited to come up to the front and perform for
the couple. Unfortunately, my Kikuyu has not improved beyond greetings
and counting to ten, so I politely clapped in the congregation. =)
However, I have improved my bargaining skills at the market. Since the
general thought is that all Whites are rich, they usually ask for a
ridiculously high price for their merchandise. Of course, if it had
been me, I would have done the same thing. This weekend, I found a
soapstone sculpture at the market (found only is the Kisii area of
Kenya) and they asked for 2,100 Kenyan shillings. 2,100 Ksh is
approximately $35 USD. After many moons of bargaining, I finally
bought it for 200 Ksh ($3.35 USD)! I was so excited until my host
mother told me it was probably only worth 100 Ksh. *sigh* I tried.
As the Christmas season approaches, I have tried to get myself into
the Christmas mood. It has proven to be much more difficult that I had
anticipated with the lack of snow in Kenya. The weather resembles July
in Minnesota (minus the horrendous humidity), so I have to walk 45
minutes to the nearest mall in Nairobi just to see the Christmas
decorations! There is also a lack of lefse and lutefisk (surprising,
right!?) so I'm trying to find a carbohydrate and smelly fish
substitute. =) This will only be the second time I will be away from
MN for Christmas (the first time was the Bangladesh mission trip in
1998), but I am excited to share the holiday with my friends and
family here in Kenya.
The Kiswahili lesson this month includes phrases I hear often:
*Sikukuu njema: Merry Christmas
*Bwana asifiwe: Praise the Lord
*Mungu ni mwema. Wakati wote: God is good. All the time. (This is a
call a response that is said before most people begin speaking at
school functions.)
Call: God is Good.
Response: All the time.
Call: All the time.
Response: God is Good.
Prayer Requests: Kenyan Presidential elections take place on December
27th. Please pray for clarity, honesty and peace.
God Bless you all in this Christmas season,
Sarah
God is good. All the time.
All the time. God is good.
Wow. It's already Christmas time and as always, I am very late in
sending an update. When I last wrote, I had not even begun teaching at
Icaciri Secondary School! Currently, the school is on "holiday" for 5
weeks until we begin a new school year in January. Next term I will
continue to teach Form 1 and 2 (9th and 10th grade) English.
I definitely have a newfound appreciation for teachers. It is a lot of
work! I thoroughly enjoyed myself, however. What you may notice about
me when I return is I now enunciate like nobody's business. =) What is
typically pronounced as "I don know" in America, is now, "I don-t
know." The "t" has it's own syllable! Last term, I had about 40
students in each of my Form 1 and Form 2 classes. I will continue with
the same Form 1 class as they are now Form 2s, and I will have the new
Form 1s fresh from primary school. I'm excited to go back to Gatundu
and get started with the new year.
As I wrote in my last newsletter, I "competed" in the Nairobi
International Marathon's 10k race. I finished and even ran across the
finish line. For those of you who know me, I don't run unless I'm
being chased. =) I also attended a Kikuyu wedding of the woman who
sells me my weekly vegetables in the Gatundu market. Unlike the
35-minute wedding ceremonies in the U.S., this service was over four
hours long. The service even included a "talent show" of sorts, when
all of the guests were invited to come up to the front and perform for
the couple. Unfortunately, my Kikuyu has not improved beyond greetings
and counting to ten, so I politely clapped in the congregation. =)
However, I have improved my bargaining skills at the market. Since the
general thought is that all Whites are rich, they usually ask for a
ridiculously high price for their merchandise. Of course, if it had
been me, I would have done the same thing. This weekend, I found a
soapstone sculpture at the market (found only is the Kisii area of
Kenya) and they asked for 2,100 Kenyan shillings. 2,100 Ksh is
approximately $35 USD. After many moons of bargaining, I finally
bought it for 200 Ksh ($3.35 USD)! I was so excited until my host
mother told me it was probably only worth 100 Ksh. *sigh* I tried.
As the Christmas season approaches, I have tried to get myself into
the Christmas mood. It has proven to be much more difficult that I had
anticipated with the lack of snow in Kenya. The weather resembles July
in Minnesota (minus the horrendous humidity), so I have to walk 45
minutes to the nearest mall in Nairobi just to see the Christmas
decorations! There is also a lack of lefse and lutefisk (surprising,
right!?) so I'm trying to find a carbohydrate and smelly fish
substitute. =) This will only be the second time I will be away from
MN for Christmas (the first time was the Bangladesh mission trip in
1998), but I am excited to share the holiday with my friends and
family here in Kenya.
The Kiswahili lesson this month includes phrases I hear often:
*Sikukuu njema: Merry Christmas
*Bwana asifiwe: Praise the Lord
*Mungu ni mwema. Wakati wote: God is good. All the time. (This is a
call a response that is said before most people begin speaking at
school functions.)
Call: God is Good.
Response: All the time.
Call: All the time.
Response: God is Good.
Prayer Requests: Kenyan Presidential elections take place on December
27th. Please pray for clarity, honesty and peace.
God Bless you all in this Christmas season,
Sarah
Hello from Edinburgh - Anna in the UK
Challenging: December 1, 2007
I've found it very difficult to write. I've been waiting for this big cathartic moment when I was going to realize why I am in Scotland and what I am doing and what I have learned. I've been waiting for an amazing story of how I really helped someone or how I'm really making a difference. I've been waiting to see God here. I've been waiting to find a church where I feel comfortable. I've been waiting to understand more of Scottish life and culture. I've been waiting to feel like I had something worth sharing.
Now I know that what I need to share is that this is difficult. I have been constantly challenged upon my arrival in Edinburgh. I have been challenged by language, weather, culture, living environment, work, theology, sleeping, and even eating. I wasn't looking for an easy year and I was expecting a challenge, but it seems that just existing as Anna is a challenge some days.
For background information, I am a volunteer at Bethany Christian Trust which is a charity that helps homeless and vulnerable people, who we refer to as service-users, in the Edinburgh area. I am working in Community Education where I assist computer groups, an art group, a journalism group, and a women's and a men's drop-in lunch. I live in a flat in Leith, a regenerating community that was once a very deprived and rough area near the shipping docks of Edinburgh. My neighborhood is still very poor, although juxtaposed with some expensive redevelopment nearby on the shore. I live with four other international volunteers from Sweden, Germany, Uganda, and Burma. My living situation in itself has created some interesting experiences.
Although I have struggled to find a sense of welcoming in the context of my flat or with the organization where I work at times, I do have wonderful news to share that I have been welcomed by the service-users at Bethany Christian Trust.
Eddie is a service-user who is a folk musician and has been very inquisitive of bluegrass and folk music from Virginia. I don't know Eddie's exact story, but I do know that he has a Russian and a French degree from the University of St. Andrews and we have had much to share about language and music. When discussing music one day, I told him that I was a huge fan of Eva Cassidy, an incredibly soulful blues singer from the Washington, DC area that died of cancer at age 33 in 1996. He said he was a fan too, and told me about how Eva Cassidy became very popular after her death in the UK and her first big hit in the UK was "Over the Rainbow."
One particularly difficult day at work, Eddie walked into the office and presented me with a book written about Eva Cassidy by her family and friends after her death. It literally brought tears to my eyes. I am the volunteer that came to help these homeless and vulnerable people, and somehow Eddie thought of me and helped me at an incredibly vulnerable time. Eddie is no longer homeless and is beginning to open old boxes of his things to put in his new flat. Much of what is in his boxes are books and music, and when he was sorting through the boxes, he found this book and thought I would like to borrow it. I can't even begin to describe how amazing this experience was and how inspired I am by how giving people can be.
One of the reasons I find my situation so challenging is that I am often confronted with a very different theological perspective. Sometimes I think the people that I work with or interact with feel that being a Christian is easy. They seem to have this notion that now that they have found God and have been "born-again" or "saved" that life is easy. They can hang out with Christians, immerse themselves in the church, and even work at a Christian organization. They have found the answers in the Bible and it is easy. They have found that God makes laws in black and white, they obey them, they go to church and follow the pastor, and then they go to Heaven, easy.
I have found my life as a Christian to be precisely the opposite and this experience, even in the context of a Christian organization, confirms that. Being a Christian and living out a Christian faith in everyday life is difficult; it is a challenge. This is not a challenge that I will overcome after three months. This is not a challenge I will even master in a year of mission, service, and discernment abroad. Living and acting as a Christian is a challenge for my life.
I have been placed into a challenging environment, but I know that God will help me and comfort me. God is here, I just need to open my eyes and look and listen with my heart instead of my mind to appreciate the ways he is calling me and showing his presence in this place.
I often listen to Eva Cassidy's version of "How Can I Keep from Singing" to find strength and comfort.
"No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love is lord of Heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?"
Thank you for all of your love and support.
Peace and Blessing,
Anna
I've found it very difficult to write. I've been waiting for this big cathartic moment when I was going to realize why I am in Scotland and what I am doing and what I have learned. I've been waiting for an amazing story of how I really helped someone or how I'm really making a difference. I've been waiting to see God here. I've been waiting to find a church where I feel comfortable. I've been waiting to understand more of Scottish life and culture. I've been waiting to feel like I had something worth sharing.
Now I know that what I need to share is that this is difficult. I have been constantly challenged upon my arrival in Edinburgh. I have been challenged by language, weather, culture, living environment, work, theology, sleeping, and even eating. I wasn't looking for an easy year and I was expecting a challenge, but it seems that just existing as Anna is a challenge some days.
For background information, I am a volunteer at Bethany Christian Trust which is a charity that helps homeless and vulnerable people, who we refer to as service-users, in the Edinburgh area. I am working in Community Education where I assist computer groups, an art group, a journalism group, and a women's and a men's drop-in lunch. I live in a flat in Leith, a regenerating community that was once a very deprived and rough area near the shipping docks of Edinburgh. My neighborhood is still very poor, although juxtaposed with some expensive redevelopment nearby on the shore. I live with four other international volunteers from Sweden, Germany, Uganda, and Burma. My living situation in itself has created some interesting experiences.
Although I have struggled to find a sense of welcoming in the context of my flat or with the organization where I work at times, I do have wonderful news to share that I have been welcomed by the service-users at Bethany Christian Trust.
Eddie is a service-user who is a folk musician and has been very inquisitive of bluegrass and folk music from Virginia. I don't know Eddie's exact story, but I do know that he has a Russian and a French degree from the University of St. Andrews and we have had much to share about language and music. When discussing music one day, I told him that I was a huge fan of Eva Cassidy, an incredibly soulful blues singer from the Washington, DC area that died of cancer at age 33 in 1996. He said he was a fan too, and told me about how Eva Cassidy became very popular after her death in the UK and her first big hit in the UK was "Over the Rainbow."
One particularly difficult day at work, Eddie walked into the office and presented me with a book written about Eva Cassidy by her family and friends after her death. It literally brought tears to my eyes. I am the volunteer that came to help these homeless and vulnerable people, and somehow Eddie thought of me and helped me at an incredibly vulnerable time. Eddie is no longer homeless and is beginning to open old boxes of his things to put in his new flat. Much of what is in his boxes are books and music, and when he was sorting through the boxes, he found this book and thought I would like to borrow it. I can't even begin to describe how amazing this experience was and how inspired I am by how giving people can be.
One of the reasons I find my situation so challenging is that I am often confronted with a very different theological perspective. Sometimes I think the people that I work with or interact with feel that being a Christian is easy. They seem to have this notion that now that they have found God and have been "born-again" or "saved" that life is easy. They can hang out with Christians, immerse themselves in the church, and even work at a Christian organization. They have found the answers in the Bible and it is easy. They have found that God makes laws in black and white, they obey them, they go to church and follow the pastor, and then they go to Heaven, easy.
I have found my life as a Christian to be precisely the opposite and this experience, even in the context of a Christian organization, confirms that. Being a Christian and living out a Christian faith in everyday life is difficult; it is a challenge. This is not a challenge that I will overcome after three months. This is not a challenge I will even master in a year of mission, service, and discernment abroad. Living and acting as a Christian is a challenge for my life.
I have been placed into a challenging environment, but I know that God will help me and comfort me. God is here, I just need to open my eyes and look and listen with my heart instead of my mind to appreciate the ways he is calling me and showing his presence in this place.
I often listen to Eva Cassidy's version of "How Can I Keep from Singing" to find strength and comfort.
"No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love is lord of Heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?"
Thank you for all of your love and support.
Peace and Blessing,
Anna
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
November Newsletter! - Jessica in Slovakia
Jessica’s November Newsletter
Updates from Horná Mičiná, Slovakia
Light in the Darkness
“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.”
~Isaiah 9:2
One of my favorite things here has been delivering the lunches to the elderly, and getting to know them more. One lady, Pani (Mrs.) Hulinova, I especially look forward to seeing each day. She is always so sweet and talks to me a lot, whether I understand everything or not. She invites me inside, asks me how I am doing, and gives me some fruit or bread. Last weekend her husband died after being ill for eleven years and having two strokes. She had been taking care of him for the past eleven years, and would tell me how she could hardly sleep at night, because of the stress and being up with him. Last Monday when I was visiting her she told me how he died and how he had been suffering for so long. While she was talking about him I saw a woman in pain, a woman who had been in distress for so long, and who was grieving the loss of her husband, but I also saw a woman with deep faith and hope. This month’s focus for the newsletter was to be on the question of where God is in our world when we are experiencing the difficult things in life- pain, suffering, aging, and death. Why do these things occur?
I am not sure if we will ever be able to have a clear answer to these difficult questions, but I think we can look to who God is and what he has done in history to give us hope. Last night I helped lead a Bible study on Isaiah 9:1-7. Isaiah refers to the suffering Israel endured during the Assyrian invasions, and the deep distress the people felt. Many of the Israelites had turned to worshipping idols and were in a time of great darkness. However, Isaiah predicts that God will deliver them from their oppression, just as he helped Gideon defeat the Midianites. Isaiah also points to the birth of Jesus, who will bring a light to the world. God delivered Israel from their oppression, and Isaiah states that He is sending a savior who will deliver mankind from sin. During this season of Advent we should remember God’s promise of deliverance. Although Jesus has come and has already delivered us, we are still living in a world of suffering and distress, and we are awaiting His second coming. We are living “in between the times”, characterized by suffering and pain, but also by peace and righteousness. The kingdom of God is already at hand, but we are still awaiting the full manifestation of this. Although this does not always make things less painful, I think we can find hope in this promise, and maybe this is the hope I saw in Pani Hulinova during this difficult time.
Thanksgiving Retreat!
One of the highlights of the month was getting together with the other volunteers in Slovakia for a retreat in Bratislava and a Thanksgiving celebration. We were able to spend a day in Vienna, and had some free time in Bratislava. We spent a lot of time discussing our placements- good things and bad things, and how we are adjusting to the culture. It was comforting to be able to talk about everything and hear how we are all dealing with similar things. November was not the easiest month here, but the retreat was refreshing and helped me to focus on how things can improve with my placement. It was also so much fun spending time with the other volunteers and exchanging stories about our experiences.
This month I began teaching the Sunday school class, and helping to prepare for the Christmas program. Usually there are about 8-10 kids from 4 years old to 12 years old, and I enjoy working with them. I am continuing to teach English, delivering lunches to the elderly, helping with Bible studies, and visiting with people in the village. I would be lying if I said everything was going great, because it isn’t always great, and I did not expect it to be. It is not easy adjusting to another culture, another language, and another lifestyle (that is very different from college life!). There are a lot of times when I am struggling to find out what my purpose here is, and how I fit into this village. I have realized that I have been finding so much meaning in the small things though. Just hearing and saying “Dobrý deň” (Good day) and exchanging a smile with someone in the village can make my day a lot brighter. Visiting with Pani Hulinova and our conversations are enlightening, even though I don’t understand everything. Helping Marcela cook or having coffee with her and Daniel gives me comfort. In the difficult times I try to remind myself of the small things that bring joy, and that I am not here doing this alone. I could never be here without God’s help and the strength He gives me each day, and without the support from everyone at home.
Thank you for your prayers and support!
-Jessica
Updates from Horná Mičiná, Slovakia
Light in the Darkness
“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.”
~Isaiah 9:2
One of my favorite things here has been delivering the lunches to the elderly, and getting to know them more. One lady, Pani (Mrs.) Hulinova, I especially look forward to seeing each day. She is always so sweet and talks to me a lot, whether I understand everything or not. She invites me inside, asks me how I am doing, and gives me some fruit or bread. Last weekend her husband died after being ill for eleven years and having two strokes. She had been taking care of him for the past eleven years, and would tell me how she could hardly sleep at night, because of the stress and being up with him. Last Monday when I was visiting her she told me how he died and how he had been suffering for so long. While she was talking about him I saw a woman in pain, a woman who had been in distress for so long, and who was grieving the loss of her husband, but I also saw a woman with deep faith and hope. This month’s focus for the newsletter was to be on the question of where God is in our world when we are experiencing the difficult things in life- pain, suffering, aging, and death. Why do these things occur?
I am not sure if we will ever be able to have a clear answer to these difficult questions, but I think we can look to who God is and what he has done in history to give us hope. Last night I helped lead a Bible study on Isaiah 9:1-7. Isaiah refers to the suffering Israel endured during the Assyrian invasions, and the deep distress the people felt. Many of the Israelites had turned to worshipping idols and were in a time of great darkness. However, Isaiah predicts that God will deliver them from their oppression, just as he helped Gideon defeat the Midianites. Isaiah also points to the birth of Jesus, who will bring a light to the world. God delivered Israel from their oppression, and Isaiah states that He is sending a savior who will deliver mankind from sin. During this season of Advent we should remember God’s promise of deliverance. Although Jesus has come and has already delivered us, we are still living in a world of suffering and distress, and we are awaiting His second coming. We are living “in between the times”, characterized by suffering and pain, but also by peace and righteousness. The kingdom of God is already at hand, but we are still awaiting the full manifestation of this. Although this does not always make things less painful, I think we can find hope in this promise, and maybe this is the hope I saw in Pani Hulinova during this difficult time.
Thanksgiving Retreat!
One of the highlights of the month was getting together with the other volunteers in Slovakia for a retreat in Bratislava and a Thanksgiving celebration. We were able to spend a day in Vienna, and had some free time in Bratislava. We spent a lot of time discussing our placements- good things and bad things, and how we are adjusting to the culture. It was comforting to be able to talk about everything and hear how we are all dealing with similar things. November was not the easiest month here, but the retreat was refreshing and helped me to focus on how things can improve with my placement. It was also so much fun spending time with the other volunteers and exchanging stories about our experiences.
This month I began teaching the Sunday school class, and helping to prepare for the Christmas program. Usually there are about 8-10 kids from 4 years old to 12 years old, and I enjoy working with them. I am continuing to teach English, delivering lunches to the elderly, helping with Bible studies, and visiting with people in the village. I would be lying if I said everything was going great, because it isn’t always great, and I did not expect it to be. It is not easy adjusting to another culture, another language, and another lifestyle (that is very different from college life!). There are a lot of times when I am struggling to find out what my purpose here is, and how I fit into this village. I have realized that I have been finding so much meaning in the small things though. Just hearing and saying “Dobrý deň” (Good day) and exchanging a smile with someone in the village can make my day a lot brighter. Visiting with Pani Hulinova and our conversations are enlightening, even though I don’t understand everything. Helping Marcela cook or having coffee with her and Daniel gives me comfort. In the difficult times I try to remind myself of the small things that bring joy, and that I am not here doing this alone. I could never be here without God’s help and the strength He gives me each day, and without the support from everyone at home.
Thank you for your prayers and support!
-Jessica
Monday, December 10, 2007
much belated november newsletter! - Gretchen in the Philippines
After undergoing an intense orientation period in Manila, during which I and the other six interns were exposed to various sectors and struggles within the Philippines—from the urban poor to the farmers, workers to Indigenous People, and the prostituted to Moro people—Arin (intern from Indonesia) and I moved to Cebu City within Cebu province to begin our placements, where the bulk of our time and work would be done during our year. Over the course of our two-month orientation, the seven of us grew together in our awareness of the situation here—processing post-immersion, wrestling with injustice, and expressing anger, frustration, sadness, and despair together. In the process, we formed a new family. Leaving this family was difficult but in looking toward to the future months, my move to Cebu was greeted with excitement and anticipation. Growing up in Vermilion, Ohio, the hectic streets and lifestyle of Manila stood in stark contrast to my own preferences, and while I understood that Cebu City resembled the urban landscape of Manila being the second largest city in the country, I began to view Cebu as an escape from this craziness. However, this viewpoint would not last long.
During one of our first days in Cebu, we were invited by members of Promotion of Church Peoples’ Response (PCPR), Arin’s host organization, to accompany a group of human rights workers and lawyers to Turburan, Cebu province, a half days’ journey over the mountains traversing the island. This was the site where an 8-year-old girl had been interrogated by the military (I use the accurate term rather than the less aggressive term, interview) of the whereabouts of her parents who were allegedly linked to the New People’s Army (NPA), the armed wing of the Communist party. The human rights workers were present to return the girl to the protection of her aunt and were able to do so peacefully. While returning back to Cebu City after an overall successful day, I began to internalize that although we were exposed to these same problems in Manila—forced disappearances, interrogation, and worse—they are truly endemic to the Philippines. No place within a country where corruption, injustice, and poverty run rampant would I be able to “escape.” This awakened an awareness of a lacking in myself that I have been struggling with since the very date of my arrival and continues to this day.
Growing up in a country where the majority live in the middle class and oftentimes a lack of awareness on the grassroots level—where people are most affected—of poverty home and abroad occurs has made transitioning to the reality in the Philippines difficult. There are times I find myself legitimizing poverty and inequality in the U.S. since I feel I have a responsibility to present realities in my country rather than those skewed images presented by the media and popular culture. But of course, to equate the severity and widespread effect of poverty in the Philippines with issues facing the U.S. is inaccurate and glosses over my purpose here. The contradictions of remaining locked in two worlds that couldn’t be further apart—my background that can accurately described though grudgingly admitted as privileged and my present situation where people my same age with the same level of education have no guarantee for any employment, let alone that which would necessitate a bachelor’s degree—highlights the difficulty of being in limbo. How do I separate myself from the mindset of unawareness and embrace the minority who live and work for the poor when I am intrinsically linked to my past, of which I have an incredible amount of pride and affection for? I know that I will never be able to empathize with the Philippine struggles—my very privilege inhibits this—but I can sympathize. I have learned that simply saying one is in solidarity with the people of the Philippines and actually living and serving every day are two separate entities. I continue to wrestle with this, and it is my hope that is not viewed as insensitive of me, but rather a realistic concern that through all this questioning might awaken the possibility of genuine solidarity as well as an option other than straddling a distance that can seem larger than the ocean separating the Philippines and the U.S. itself.
This struggle of understanding my place in the Philippines has contributing factors that lie outside myself in the awareness, or lack thereof, that people here have of my role in their country. Many people within the United Church of Christ in the Philippines itself are unaware of the intern program, and in turn the program is not explained well to people outside the church with whom I interact. Oftentimes after hearing I am working through the UCCP with the ELCA as my sending church, many instantly assume I plan to enter seminary when I return home, which I do not think is quite in my future. While I understand that every outreach and project of the UCCP cannot be known to every churchperson, it is often difficult to try to explain myself, my reasons for being here, and my expectations for the year in a surface-level conversation. My conviction to spend a year away from everything I have known, my desire to learn about the situation here, and my duty to become an advocate of the Philippine people cannot be described without having a deeper conversation. And to be quite honest, it becomes exhausting to have a conversation of that caliber at a moment’s notice.
As well as some difficulty in making my purpose here clear, there are the inevitable feelings of being “other.” What a strange feeling it is to walk outside, knowing that no one else looks like me, save for the occasional sex tourist, which is no consolation. There is a self-consciousness that accompanies the knowledge that I am a novelty, attracting attention everywhere I go, though Americans are clearly not new to the Philippines. Language is another stage in which I feel foreign. The local dialect of Visaya (or Cebuano depending who you ask; people from other islands in the central island region of the Visayas call their dialect Visaya and refer to that of Cebu as Cebuano) is quite different from the Tagalog of Manila. Despite language lessons now in Visaya, my progress is slower than I would like since there are few useful books to learn practical, conversational Visaya. I want so badly to be able to communicate in at least some Visaya, since although many people know English, viewpoints towards English seem to habituate the “colonial mentality,” meaning that many Filipinos who speak English with proper grammar and no trace of a Filipino accent are elevated in status. Those who are not afforded the opportunity to study English in college are, using the common adjective, ashamed of speaking English with an American. In this sense, while I know I can always “fall back” on English, I myself feel ashamed that I must rely on my native tongue to effectively communicate.
I thought before I came to the Philippines I had a higher than normal level of patience. Growing up with four brothers (sorry to call you out, boys), I learned over time to tolerate their taunting and frequent annoyingness. I am a person that is not impulsive, but often takes much processing to come to a decision, patient to see the resolve that often reveals itself. Therefore, I was shocked with myself when my patience began to flee and my frustrations grew. There was some time the past month before my facilitator (my link to the organization I would be working with as well as the contact person for the community) arrived when I felt useless, without having a solid direction of what I was to be learning and doing. This lesson would reveal itself in time as many others. I would have to expand my former patience beyond its prior limits. Living in a country where plans are constantly changing, making a schedule makes an excuse to break it, and planning for a major event mere days in advance require this expansion of patience.
When my facilitator, Dr. Alex Montes, arrived in Cebu, my feelings of restlessness abated and my direction focused on my host community of Punta Engano. Dr. Montes is a non-practicing physician and head of the outreach program of the Visays Community Medical Center (VCMC), a private-hospital owned by the UCCP, which is also my residence. (Arin and I live in the Administrator’s guest home within the hospital compound, which incidentally is also the office of the outreach program. The commute to work involves emerging from our bedroom, funny enough.) I also work with the community builder living and working in the field, within Punta Engano itself, Butch Rosales. The outreach program is supported by the UCCP but funded by an umbrella organization CONCORD (Consortium of Christian Organization for Rural-Urban Development; Filipinos love acronyms, sometimes I think the acronym is invented before the full name). The outreach program focuses on addressing issues facing communities of urban poor and farther a field, including the barangay (akin to neighborhood with locally elected officials) of Punta Engano.
Punta Engano is a two-hour jeep ride from my home base of VCMC, but distance-wise it is only on the next island over from Cebu City, Mactan Island, a place of historical significance. This is the place where the first Spanish settlers led by Magellan landed in the Philippines. Incidentally, it is also the place of Magellan’s death at the hands of local chieftain, Lapu-Lapu, who is commemorated as the first Filipino to resist foreign rule. However, many Filipinos, specifically of Mactan, continue to wonder where the victory of the Battle of Mactan is today. Punta Engano, a microcosm of the major issues facing the entire country, struggles with lack of land ownership, economic exploitation by trans-national corporations, few jobs and poor pay, inaccessibility to social services, and militarization. The livelihood—primarily fishing—and the right to shelter are threatened daily by encroachment of resort hotels. Residents’ homes along the peninsula of Mactan where Punta Engano is located are bought out and demolished by big developers who feed them misinformation and convince them they have no other option. In addition, many of the people live on the land without ownership; they are informal settlers who have occupied the land for decades yet are bereft of land titles. As well as the land, the resorts claim to own the water surrounding their hotels (although illegal in the Philippines), prohibiting fisherfolk (fisherman) from fishing in the area. It is therefore crucial to organize and educate the community, so that they know their options and the implications for future generations before settling a deal. Under Philippine law, when demolition occurs there must be a plan for relocation, regardless of type of settlement—formal or otherwise. However, for countless families in Punta Engano, the talk for relocation has been just that—talk. The mayor the city in which Engano lies has proposed a 6 million peso deal with a developer to provided adequate relocation, yet this plan has failed to materialize, and even if it does, it breaches the agreement of resettlement within Punta Engano, planning to displace families to the opposite end of Mactan Island.
Hearing the story of Punta Engano within the walls of the office was quite different from experiencing daily life in the community, where I spend a considerable portion of my week. Contradictions abound within the barangay; such a quick impression is possible even within the confines of viewing from an overcrowded and bumbling jeep. Five star resorts—Shangri-La and Hilton—exist side by side to families living in squat huts made from nipa palm, undoubtedly victims of demolition. The smoothness of the jeep ride depends on its proximity to such resorts; well-paved roads lined with the soft glow of lighted trees at night exist in the meters surrounding the resorts, but disappear instantly, transferring one from the momentary immitation-serentity back to the reality of the place, conditions, and those who live in Punta Engano rather than those who vacation for a week. Concrete walled fences demarcating land titles are ubiquitous, representing the age-old battle mentality of “divide and conquer.” No sooner than a deal is made, the walls are constructed providing a visual reminder that quietly and stealthily, the land falls victim to the grandiose plans of developers who wish to see Punta Engano as a tourists’ dream without any trace of the original inhabitants. The specific community, or sitio, where I stay in Punta Engano is called Jansen, a historically Protestant community where I also worship. Truly unique within the barangay, Jansen has been paying the government for the past 18 years a monthly sum for the rights to the land. At the end of the 25-year span, the land will be in the sole possession of the inhabitants. This situation is hopeful for the people of Jansen, but in seven years, many residents worry Jansen will be a small square on the map of Punta Engano surrounded by resorts. It is the desire of the outreach program that many more squares in addition to Jansen exist and remain within Punta Engano.
To see this desire put into the practice, the outreach program realizes the power of information to educate the masses and the need for leadership among the residents to empower the community to chart their own history rather than simply accepting the future that those in positions of power offer. Rather than looking to “dole-out” projects to aid the community, the outreach focuses on sustainability to address the pressing issues while simultaneously utilizing available resources, be it legal council to understand land rights or organizational methods to make social services better accessible. In the past few weeks, Dr. Montes, Butch, and I have been working to make alliances with local organizations, such as the Christian Young Adult Fellowship of the UCCP, to assist in the organizing effort. We aided in facilitating the forming of a citywide urban poor organization of various sectors including vendors, drivers, youth, women, and fisherfolk in order to work together for a common goal constructively. An upcoming leadership training program to educated community members of effective leadership methods is being planned. But despite these larger projects aligned with the vision of the outreach program, smaller tasks crop up, and it requires patience to see purpose in even the simplest of contributions.
I am now a Sunday school teacher for the older elementary students in Jansen, who love to practice their English with me, asking questions as diverse as “what’s your favorite Pokemon?” and “do you have a love life?” I have also been put in charge of running a children’s Christmas program for the community. The children’s’ mothers are enthusiastically holding practices when I am not in the community, and I am looking forward to the final performance, set for Christmas Day itself. By opening the Christmas program opportunity to the whole community rather than operating solely through the framework of the church, it is the outreach program’s hope that the parents will be attracted to this event and the overall organizing effort. While a Christmas program is a small contribution, it is the patience that is growing within me along with a resolute and unfaltering hope that wishes to subtly accomplish more than I set out to do.
While I have taken this time to reflect, to delve into myself, to try to understand the Philippines, the world, I also know there will be many more times of questioning. I will admit that in this questioning I experience frequent frustration, realizing that I come from the other side of the world in more ways than simply distance. I have yet to formulate a plan of action so that I can one day soon quit this balancing act of being a privileged American in the Philippines working for the poor. Yet a creative plan must be in the works, because straddling distance, culture, language, and ideology is downright exhausting. But perhaps in this exercise of pushing past unforeseen limits, patience will not only be expanded but also a strength in the understanding that through faith, passion, and hope a continuation past one’s previous self might be realized.
During one of our first days in Cebu, we were invited by members of Promotion of Church Peoples’ Response (PCPR), Arin’s host organization, to accompany a group of human rights workers and lawyers to Turburan, Cebu province, a half days’ journey over the mountains traversing the island. This was the site where an 8-year-old girl had been interrogated by the military (I use the accurate term rather than the less aggressive term, interview) of the whereabouts of her parents who were allegedly linked to the New People’s Army (NPA), the armed wing of the Communist party. The human rights workers were present to return the girl to the protection of her aunt and were able to do so peacefully. While returning back to Cebu City after an overall successful day, I began to internalize that although we were exposed to these same problems in Manila—forced disappearances, interrogation, and worse—they are truly endemic to the Philippines. No place within a country where corruption, injustice, and poverty run rampant would I be able to “escape.” This awakened an awareness of a lacking in myself that I have been struggling with since the very date of my arrival and continues to this day.
Growing up in a country where the majority live in the middle class and oftentimes a lack of awareness on the grassroots level—where people are most affected—of poverty home and abroad occurs has made transitioning to the reality in the Philippines difficult. There are times I find myself legitimizing poverty and inequality in the U.S. since I feel I have a responsibility to present realities in my country rather than those skewed images presented by the media and popular culture. But of course, to equate the severity and widespread effect of poverty in the Philippines with issues facing the U.S. is inaccurate and glosses over my purpose here. The contradictions of remaining locked in two worlds that couldn’t be further apart—my background that can accurately described though grudgingly admitted as privileged and my present situation where people my same age with the same level of education have no guarantee for any employment, let alone that which would necessitate a bachelor’s degree—highlights the difficulty of being in limbo. How do I separate myself from the mindset of unawareness and embrace the minority who live and work for the poor when I am intrinsically linked to my past, of which I have an incredible amount of pride and affection for? I know that I will never be able to empathize with the Philippine struggles—my very privilege inhibits this—but I can sympathize. I have learned that simply saying one is in solidarity with the people of the Philippines and actually living and serving every day are two separate entities. I continue to wrestle with this, and it is my hope that is not viewed as insensitive of me, but rather a realistic concern that through all this questioning might awaken the possibility of genuine solidarity as well as an option other than straddling a distance that can seem larger than the ocean separating the Philippines and the U.S. itself.
This struggle of understanding my place in the Philippines has contributing factors that lie outside myself in the awareness, or lack thereof, that people here have of my role in their country. Many people within the United Church of Christ in the Philippines itself are unaware of the intern program, and in turn the program is not explained well to people outside the church with whom I interact. Oftentimes after hearing I am working through the UCCP with the ELCA as my sending church, many instantly assume I plan to enter seminary when I return home, which I do not think is quite in my future. While I understand that every outreach and project of the UCCP cannot be known to every churchperson, it is often difficult to try to explain myself, my reasons for being here, and my expectations for the year in a surface-level conversation. My conviction to spend a year away from everything I have known, my desire to learn about the situation here, and my duty to become an advocate of the Philippine people cannot be described without having a deeper conversation. And to be quite honest, it becomes exhausting to have a conversation of that caliber at a moment’s notice.
As well as some difficulty in making my purpose here clear, there are the inevitable feelings of being “other.” What a strange feeling it is to walk outside, knowing that no one else looks like me, save for the occasional sex tourist, which is no consolation. There is a self-consciousness that accompanies the knowledge that I am a novelty, attracting attention everywhere I go, though Americans are clearly not new to the Philippines. Language is another stage in which I feel foreign. The local dialect of Visaya (or Cebuano depending who you ask; people from other islands in the central island region of the Visayas call their dialect Visaya and refer to that of Cebu as Cebuano) is quite different from the Tagalog of Manila. Despite language lessons now in Visaya, my progress is slower than I would like since there are few useful books to learn practical, conversational Visaya. I want so badly to be able to communicate in at least some Visaya, since although many people know English, viewpoints towards English seem to habituate the “colonial mentality,” meaning that many Filipinos who speak English with proper grammar and no trace of a Filipino accent are elevated in status. Those who are not afforded the opportunity to study English in college are, using the common adjective, ashamed of speaking English with an American. In this sense, while I know I can always “fall back” on English, I myself feel ashamed that I must rely on my native tongue to effectively communicate.
I thought before I came to the Philippines I had a higher than normal level of patience. Growing up with four brothers (sorry to call you out, boys), I learned over time to tolerate their taunting and frequent annoyingness. I am a person that is not impulsive, but often takes much processing to come to a decision, patient to see the resolve that often reveals itself. Therefore, I was shocked with myself when my patience began to flee and my frustrations grew. There was some time the past month before my facilitator (my link to the organization I would be working with as well as the contact person for the community) arrived when I felt useless, without having a solid direction of what I was to be learning and doing. This lesson would reveal itself in time as many others. I would have to expand my former patience beyond its prior limits. Living in a country where plans are constantly changing, making a schedule makes an excuse to break it, and planning for a major event mere days in advance require this expansion of patience.
When my facilitator, Dr. Alex Montes, arrived in Cebu, my feelings of restlessness abated and my direction focused on my host community of Punta Engano. Dr. Montes is a non-practicing physician and head of the outreach program of the Visays Community Medical Center (VCMC), a private-hospital owned by the UCCP, which is also my residence. (Arin and I live in the Administrator’s guest home within the hospital compound, which incidentally is also the office of the outreach program. The commute to work involves emerging from our bedroom, funny enough.) I also work with the community builder living and working in the field, within Punta Engano itself, Butch Rosales. The outreach program is supported by the UCCP but funded by an umbrella organization CONCORD (Consortium of Christian Organization for Rural-Urban Development; Filipinos love acronyms, sometimes I think the acronym is invented before the full name). The outreach program focuses on addressing issues facing communities of urban poor and farther a field, including the barangay (akin to neighborhood with locally elected officials) of Punta Engano.
Punta Engano is a two-hour jeep ride from my home base of VCMC, but distance-wise it is only on the next island over from Cebu City, Mactan Island, a place of historical significance. This is the place where the first Spanish settlers led by Magellan landed in the Philippines. Incidentally, it is also the place of Magellan’s death at the hands of local chieftain, Lapu-Lapu, who is commemorated as the first Filipino to resist foreign rule. However, many Filipinos, specifically of Mactan, continue to wonder where the victory of the Battle of Mactan is today. Punta Engano, a microcosm of the major issues facing the entire country, struggles with lack of land ownership, economic exploitation by trans-national corporations, few jobs and poor pay, inaccessibility to social services, and militarization. The livelihood—primarily fishing—and the right to shelter are threatened daily by encroachment of resort hotels. Residents’ homes along the peninsula of Mactan where Punta Engano is located are bought out and demolished by big developers who feed them misinformation and convince them they have no other option. In addition, many of the people live on the land without ownership; they are informal settlers who have occupied the land for decades yet are bereft of land titles. As well as the land, the resorts claim to own the water surrounding their hotels (although illegal in the Philippines), prohibiting fisherfolk (fisherman) from fishing in the area. It is therefore crucial to organize and educate the community, so that they know their options and the implications for future generations before settling a deal. Under Philippine law, when demolition occurs there must be a plan for relocation, regardless of type of settlement—formal or otherwise. However, for countless families in Punta Engano, the talk for relocation has been just that—talk. The mayor the city in which Engano lies has proposed a 6 million peso deal with a developer to provided adequate relocation, yet this plan has failed to materialize, and even if it does, it breaches the agreement of resettlement within Punta Engano, planning to displace families to the opposite end of Mactan Island.
Hearing the story of Punta Engano within the walls of the office was quite different from experiencing daily life in the community, where I spend a considerable portion of my week. Contradictions abound within the barangay; such a quick impression is possible even within the confines of viewing from an overcrowded and bumbling jeep. Five star resorts—Shangri-La and Hilton—exist side by side to families living in squat huts made from nipa palm, undoubtedly victims of demolition. The smoothness of the jeep ride depends on its proximity to such resorts; well-paved roads lined with the soft glow of lighted trees at night exist in the meters surrounding the resorts, but disappear instantly, transferring one from the momentary immitation-serentity back to the reality of the place, conditions, and those who live in Punta Engano rather than those who vacation for a week. Concrete walled fences demarcating land titles are ubiquitous, representing the age-old battle mentality of “divide and conquer.” No sooner than a deal is made, the walls are constructed providing a visual reminder that quietly and stealthily, the land falls victim to the grandiose plans of developers who wish to see Punta Engano as a tourists’ dream without any trace of the original inhabitants. The specific community, or sitio, where I stay in Punta Engano is called Jansen, a historically Protestant community where I also worship. Truly unique within the barangay, Jansen has been paying the government for the past 18 years a monthly sum for the rights to the land. At the end of the 25-year span, the land will be in the sole possession of the inhabitants. This situation is hopeful for the people of Jansen, but in seven years, many residents worry Jansen will be a small square on the map of Punta Engano surrounded by resorts. It is the desire of the outreach program that many more squares in addition to Jansen exist and remain within Punta Engano.
To see this desire put into the practice, the outreach program realizes the power of information to educate the masses and the need for leadership among the residents to empower the community to chart their own history rather than simply accepting the future that those in positions of power offer. Rather than looking to “dole-out” projects to aid the community, the outreach focuses on sustainability to address the pressing issues while simultaneously utilizing available resources, be it legal council to understand land rights or organizational methods to make social services better accessible. In the past few weeks, Dr. Montes, Butch, and I have been working to make alliances with local organizations, such as the Christian Young Adult Fellowship of the UCCP, to assist in the organizing effort. We aided in facilitating the forming of a citywide urban poor organization of various sectors including vendors, drivers, youth, women, and fisherfolk in order to work together for a common goal constructively. An upcoming leadership training program to educated community members of effective leadership methods is being planned. But despite these larger projects aligned with the vision of the outreach program, smaller tasks crop up, and it requires patience to see purpose in even the simplest of contributions.
I am now a Sunday school teacher for the older elementary students in Jansen, who love to practice their English with me, asking questions as diverse as “what’s your favorite Pokemon?” and “do you have a love life?” I have also been put in charge of running a children’s Christmas program for the community. The children’s’ mothers are enthusiastically holding practices when I am not in the community, and I am looking forward to the final performance, set for Christmas Day itself. By opening the Christmas program opportunity to the whole community rather than operating solely through the framework of the church, it is the outreach program’s hope that the parents will be attracted to this event and the overall organizing effort. While a Christmas program is a small contribution, it is the patience that is growing within me along with a resolute and unfaltering hope that wishes to subtly accomplish more than I set out to do.
While I have taken this time to reflect, to delve into myself, to try to understand the Philippines, the world, I also know there will be many more times of questioning. I will admit that in this questioning I experience frequent frustration, realizing that I come from the other side of the world in more ways than simply distance. I have yet to formulate a plan of action so that I can one day soon quit this balancing act of being a privileged American in the Philippines working for the poor. Yet a creative plan must be in the works, because straddling distance, culture, language, and ideology is downright exhausting. But perhaps in this exercise of pushing past unforeseen limits, patience will not only be expanded but also a strength in the understanding that through faith, passion, and hope a continuation past one’s previous self might be realized.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
