"Colors of the Wind"
We recently attended a seminar: 'Globalization: Life and Livelihood
Issues.' Indian social activists, community leaders, pastors, and
many others attended the three-day event. My processing of this
seminar will continue far after my time here is completed, for the
other volunteers and myself were the manifestation of western culture;
a culture that is breeding multi-national corporations to strip the
marginalized of what little they still hold. Listening to the stories
of our seminar colleagues, those combating these companies, was one of
the most inspiring and empowering experiences. But, even more, I left
deeply humbled.
These were days of understanding how the decisions in America directly
affect the lives of those literally on the other side of the world;
these were days of facing my economic ignorance for in order to
survive, many have been forced to understand American politics,
history and foreign affairs; these were days of listening, absorbing,
and supporting. The following is a few highlights from one of the
speakers.
"You think you own whatever land you land on,
The Earth is just a dead place you can claim..."
Mr. C.R. Neelakantan, a well-respected social activist, spoke of his
experience fighting an established Coca-Cola plant in a small village
in Kerala. Among many things, the company was stripping the villagers
of their water. The water they used for generations was taken by the
factory at the rate of 1,500,000 liters a day to make 500,000 liters
of Coke. Besides this, the factory was leaving the surrounding water
heavily polluted. What was once seen as a simple human right, access
to healthy drinking water, was now a commodity. Their water was being
put in bottles for their purchase. With angry villagers at hand, the
company agreed to have water delivered to each family. The Coca-Cola
plant would provide a ration of water each day, free of charge.
Convinced that this was a reasonable option, Mr. Neelakantan consulted
his partner, an elderly woman of the village who was leading the
protest against the company. He soon saw why she was not satisfied
with the bargain. It was a matter of thinking organically versus
inorganically.
"If we depend on Coca-Cola to provide our water," she told him, "what
will happen when our wells are dry? They will leave. They will leave
an empty factory and empty wells. They will shut down the plant and
establish in another village. And we will be left. With nothing."
As a city-dweller, Mr. Neelakantan's notion of water was its existence
in pipes and tubes. Water came from turning a knob, a nozzle, or
spout; his image of water was one of inorganic thinking, believing
life's necessities are provided by paying monthly bills. The
villagers understood water came from the land. If the land is
exhausted, polluted and destroyed, how would water be found and
harvested? This is a mindset of organic thinking, understanding the
land provides for every need, not businesses, not corporations, and
not name brands. Organic thinking sees that we are only nurtured when
we nurture nature.
What if our world began thinking organically? What if we each
realized electricity does not come from a switch, clothes do not come
from the bargain rack, and salad does not come from bags? What if?
"But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger,
You'll learn things you never knew, you never knew..."
Our world is redefined. What was once third-world, is now developing;
what was first-world, is developed. India has been labeled developing
and America, developed. In fact, America is the standard for
development, the model for the world's developing nations. Mr.
Neelakantan, then raised a question: if a country's model for
development is America, then to be considered developed, will a
country be forced to more American? Does the American lifestyle
become the lifestyle of other countries in their progress towards
development? If so, can you imagine the consequences?
India has three times the population of America, with a third of the
land. The Indian masses currently use buses, trains and other public
transportation, for owning private wheels is a luxury of the few. In
its journey to development, India recently developed the Nano: a
100,000 Rupee car, the first of its kind that's decently affordable.
The issue arising, though, is the quantity of cars to be sold. What
if the majority of India's population bought a Nano, living to the
developed, American standard?
The cost of such development would be unbelievable. For one, freeway
systems would have to be established, leaving the rural roads, the
land of bullock carts, eliminated; what used to be a simple crossing
of the road for the farmer to his land would become a day's journey to
the nearest highway junction. Time spent in the field would mean time
spent traveling. All in the name of development; this is progress.
Really? Is it?
Mr. Neelakantan forced me to evaluate the life I have lived: leaving
lights on, fans on, driving 30 minutes to and from work, using plastic
bag after plastic bag, etc. In my mind, I knew there were more
resourceful ways of living, but the excuse of "it's just me" always
quieted my resurrecting guilt. But, the truth is, it's not just me.
And it's not just you. The way we live life is defining how others
should live theirs. By establishing our standards of living, we are
setting the standards for global development. What if everyone lived
the way we do? What if?
"And we are all connected to each other,
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends..."
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
January Newsletter - Amy in the UK
New Beginnings
Volume 1, Issue 5
January 2008
Do We Matter?
Then Jesus asked, “What is the kingdom of God like? What shall I compare it to? It is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his garden. It grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air perched on its branches.”
Again he asked, “What shall I compare the Kingdom of God to? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough.” (Luke 13:18-21)
Do we matter? What would a life that matters look like? This is a question we were asked to think about this month. It is also a question I have been asking myself my entire life, especially this year.
Each and every person God created matters. Every man, woman, and child is important and significant. Nowhere is this stated more clearly than in the Parables of the Mustard See and the Yeast.
The mustard seed is the smallest of all seeds, yet when planted and nurtured, it becomes a tree where birds can perch on the branches. Like the mustard seed, yeast is tiny, but when it is used to make bread, it is dispersed throughout all the dough so it rises and makes large loaves of bread.
To describe the Kingdom of God, Jesus used the smallest of things – a mustard seed and yeast. This parable can show us that we are never too small to be important in God’s eyes. If God can use a mustard seed to grow a marvelous tress, then He can use us to grow His kingdom. In the grand scheme of things, we may all be small like the mustard seed and yeast but God uses us for such great and wondrous things.
I do not believe there is a template that shows what a life that matters looks like. Each and everyone of us lives a life that matters. No life is more significant than the next. In God’s eyes, we are all magnificent, splendid, and important.
This past month has brought on many new struggles and I have particularly been struggling with this question. I feel the pressure to decide what to do with my life. Who do I want to be? How can I best serve God? Am I listening to God or just living in fast forward?
I struggle with who I am and who I am becoming. More than anything, I want to help others. I want to show others that they do matter and that they are important in God’s eyes. But if I do not believe in myself and think that I do not matter, then how can I teach this to others?
I feel as if I am continually being bruised and battered by no other than myself. I am so hard on myself and I am fighting a battle between disliking myself and feeling bad that I dislike myself because I have been made in God’s image. It is a vicious circle that seems to have no end.
But above all, deep down, I do know that I matter. I know I am a child of God and I don’t need anything else except God. God is sufficient and I know He will get my through the hard and trying times.
I am aware now more than ever of how important each human life is. Everyone has something extraordinary to offer and use. God has made each and everyone of us special in our own ways. In a world of 6 billion, like the mustard seed, we are tiny. But in God’s eyes, we are significant and we matter more than we can ever know. We are God’s instruments and tools and we can offer what we have to make better the Kingdom of God.
Prayer Requests:
- For the women at Charis House – that they may seek and find where God is guiding them.
- For the unrest in Kenya and all who are caught in the middle.
- For peace and guidance in the new year.
- For old and new family and friends.
“The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you.” – John E. Southard
I want to thank each and every one of you for your continued support and prayers. You will never know how much it means to me. I am so blessed to have each of you in my life. May God bless you and enrich you as He has enriched my life because of you.
Christmas in Sweden
As many of you know, I had the wonderful opportunity to spend Christmas in Sweden. My grandmas’s cousin, Barbro and her husband, Arne, invited me to spend Christmas with their family and I gladly accepted their offer.
I was in Sweden for five days and I had the best Christmas I could have had without being home. Barbr and Arne, Goran and Yolanda, Anki and Henrik, were also so hospitable and welcomed me into their homes as if I was one of their own.
I had the opportunity to sight-see in the Old Town. Stockholm is an absolutely beautiful city. It was such a warm, cozy, and welcoming country and I cannot wait to one day return to Sweden.
On Christmas eve day, we put up lights in the yard and decorated the tree. Goran and Yolanda then had everyone over for supper and it definitely was a “high class” dinner. I had never seen so many glasses or silverware at one setting before. We had wonderful fish and salads and although we had no food like we do back home, it was all very good and a wonderful experience!
It was such a blessing to be able to spend Christmas with family and to meet new family. I had never met Henrik or Yolanda before and I feel so privileged to have them as family and friends. God definitely blessed me this Christmas season.
Something to be Proud of…
I am happy to say that work has been going quite well as of late. I am enjoying my administration work and have had enough to do thus far in the new year.
I am especially enjoying all of the women who are in the house right now. They all really seem to be trying to get their lives back together and it is such an inspiration to see how hard they are working.
There is one lady in particular that I am especially proud of. She came into the house about two months ago. She was extremely shy and had a tendency to self-harm. She also is on a variety of different medications.
I have been working a lot of weekends lately and on one particular weekend, we became very close. She has opened up so well to staff and the other residents. And I am so happy to say that she has quite taking some of her medication, and hasn’t self-harmed in a month.
I am so proud of her and I look forward to what the future has for her. I ask that you keep her and the other women at Charis House in your prayers.
Halfway Done
On January 28th, all ELCA volunteers had officially been at their placements for 5 months. It is incredible to think how fast the time here has gone. It is also quite exhausting to look back and see what has happened in the past five months.
To mark this halfway point, TFG sponsored a conference in Wales this past month for all TFG volunteers serving in the UK.
There were approximately 150 volunteers gathered
Volume 1, Issue 5
January 2008
Do We Matter?
Then Jesus asked, “What is the kingdom of God like? What shall I compare it to? It is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his garden. It grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air perched on its branches.”
Again he asked, “What shall I compare the Kingdom of God to? It is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough.” (Luke 13:18-21)
Do we matter? What would a life that matters look like? This is a question we were asked to think about this month. It is also a question I have been asking myself my entire life, especially this year.
Each and every person God created matters. Every man, woman, and child is important and significant. Nowhere is this stated more clearly than in the Parables of the Mustard See and the Yeast.
The mustard seed is the smallest of all seeds, yet when planted and nurtured, it becomes a tree where birds can perch on the branches. Like the mustard seed, yeast is tiny, but when it is used to make bread, it is dispersed throughout all the dough so it rises and makes large loaves of bread.
To describe the Kingdom of God, Jesus used the smallest of things – a mustard seed and yeast. This parable can show us that we are never too small to be important in God’s eyes. If God can use a mustard seed to grow a marvelous tress, then He can use us to grow His kingdom. In the grand scheme of things, we may all be small like the mustard seed and yeast but God uses us for such great and wondrous things.
I do not believe there is a template that shows what a life that matters looks like. Each and everyone of us lives a life that matters. No life is more significant than the next. In God’s eyes, we are all magnificent, splendid, and important.
This past month has brought on many new struggles and I have particularly been struggling with this question. I feel the pressure to decide what to do with my life. Who do I want to be? How can I best serve God? Am I listening to God or just living in fast forward?
I struggle with who I am and who I am becoming. More than anything, I want to help others. I want to show others that they do matter and that they are important in God’s eyes. But if I do not believe in myself and think that I do not matter, then how can I teach this to others?
I feel as if I am continually being bruised and battered by no other than myself. I am so hard on myself and I am fighting a battle between disliking myself and feeling bad that I dislike myself because I have been made in God’s image. It is a vicious circle that seems to have no end.
But above all, deep down, I do know that I matter. I know I am a child of God and I don’t need anything else except God. God is sufficient and I know He will get my through the hard and trying times.
I am aware now more than ever of how important each human life is. Everyone has something extraordinary to offer and use. God has made each and everyone of us special in our own ways. In a world of 6 billion, like the mustard seed, we are tiny. But in God’s eyes, we are significant and we matter more than we can ever know. We are God’s instruments and tools and we can offer what we have to make better the Kingdom of God.
Prayer Requests:
- For the women at Charis House – that they may seek and find where God is guiding them.
- For the unrest in Kenya and all who are caught in the middle.
- For peace and guidance in the new year.
- For old and new family and friends.
“The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you.” – John E. Southard
I want to thank each and every one of you for your continued support and prayers. You will never know how much it means to me. I am so blessed to have each of you in my life. May God bless you and enrich you as He has enriched my life because of you.
Christmas in Sweden
As many of you know, I had the wonderful opportunity to spend Christmas in Sweden. My grandmas’s cousin, Barbro and her husband, Arne, invited me to spend Christmas with their family and I gladly accepted their offer.
I was in Sweden for five days and I had the best Christmas I could have had without being home. Barbr and Arne, Goran and Yolanda, Anki and Henrik, were also so hospitable and welcomed me into their homes as if I was one of their own.
I had the opportunity to sight-see in the Old Town. Stockholm is an absolutely beautiful city. It was such a warm, cozy, and welcoming country and I cannot wait to one day return to Sweden.
On Christmas eve day, we put up lights in the yard and decorated the tree. Goran and Yolanda then had everyone over for supper and it definitely was a “high class” dinner. I had never seen so many glasses or silverware at one setting before. We had wonderful fish and salads and although we had no food like we do back home, it was all very good and a wonderful experience!
It was such a blessing to be able to spend Christmas with family and to meet new family. I had never met Henrik or Yolanda before and I feel so privileged to have them as family and friends. God definitely blessed me this Christmas season.
Something to be Proud of…
I am happy to say that work has been going quite well as of late. I am enjoying my administration work and have had enough to do thus far in the new year.
I am especially enjoying all of the women who are in the house right now. They all really seem to be trying to get their lives back together and it is such an inspiration to see how hard they are working.
There is one lady in particular that I am especially proud of. She came into the house about two months ago. She was extremely shy and had a tendency to self-harm. She also is on a variety of different medications.
I have been working a lot of weekends lately and on one particular weekend, we became very close. She has opened up so well to staff and the other residents. And I am so happy to say that she has quite taking some of her medication, and hasn’t self-harmed in a month.
I am so proud of her and I look forward to what the future has for her. I ask that you keep her and the other women at Charis House in your prayers.
Halfway Done
On January 28th, all ELCA volunteers had officially been at their placements for 5 months. It is incredible to think how fast the time here has gone. It is also quite exhausting to look back and see what has happened in the past five months.
To mark this halfway point, TFG sponsored a conference in Wales this past month for all TFG volunteers serving in the UK.
There were approximately 150 volunteers gathered
Sunday, January 27, 2008
January Newsletter - Katie in Mexico
“Living simply” or simply living it up?
Cuernavaca, Mexico Newsletter
January 2008
By Katie
‘Tis the season of vacations and visitors. With a different trip or excursion on the calendar almost every two weeks over the course of the next two months, the idea of “living simply” is starting to blur.
The majority of my time in Mexico has been, and will be, defined as “living simply” which is our call to live on a meager stipend and try to understand the hardships of our communities struggling to survive on a daily basis. I was already born into a wonderful life by virtue of being a white, American with access to education, health care, equality, freedom, and job opportunities. That is a painful, daily realization when I walk into La Estación and have the ability to walk out of it. I realize it every time I see my students with toothless grins because at the age of five their teeth have rotted and fallen out. I realize it every time my students ask me for more and more and more food when we serve lunch at Casa Tatic and I always wonder if they ever get anything else to eat during the day.
For me, this notion of “living simply” is a call to try to make the most of what I have already. It means wearing the same week’s worth of shirts over and over again, pretending that my one black shirt and the only pair of non-saggy jeans might pass as a “going out” ensemble, or breaking out Marce’s sewing machine to make my own clothes when wardrobe boredom hits. It means buying the cheapest thing on the menu when meeting up with friends downtown (which is already a luxurious opportunity that many of my work communities cannot enjoy). It means walking to and from work as my daily, affordable exercise instead of using the precious $4.50 pesos (about 45 cents) for a bus ride (let’s not even dream of a gym membership). It means coming home and spending most of my free time with Marce instead of going out with friends like I would have done in Madison. It is giving thanks for all the blessings of an education, health, and opportunities that I have had in my life so far and those that I will have when I return.
Then January and the onslaught of vacations and visitors began…
Ryan, my boyfriend from Madison, came to visit for a couple weeks. We went to a beach and then spent time in Mexico City and Cuernavaca. I tried to show him a glimpse of my reality during this year, but it is so difficult to experience daily life in a one-time visit to my work sites. Just as I cannot fully understand life in La Estación because I do not live there, I had a hard time trying to show him the reality of my life because he does not live here nor was he going to stay for very long. It was still an incredible vacation and we had a wonderful time catching up, snorkeling, going on a river-rafting excursion near the beach, surfing, going to see pyramids and ruins near Mexico City, eating out, wandering Cuernavaca and Tepoztlan, and picking up souvenirs along the way. It was not “living simply” by a long shot. It was “living it up” in Mexico for a couple weeks and now we’ll have memories to last a lifetime.
Just recently, I went to Michoacán (another state in Mexico) to see the monarch butterfly sanctuaries. Five generations of monarchs migrate from central Mexico to southern Canada every year and scientists are still somewhat baffled by how they do it, hence why it is one of the “Wonders of the World.” Sarah, Jenn and I took a weekend getaway to get to the little village of Angangeo. It is a sleepy and rustic mountain town and I felt like us three güeras were more of a sight to see for the locals than the butterflies. Apparently, this little town does not see much action besides the coming and going of tourists. We went to two different sanctuaries, both located up higher in the mountains after stretches of long, bumpy dirt roads. The cold, thin air in the pine forests up at 11,000 feet made it seem like we had left Mexico entirely. At first I did not recognize what I was seeing when we arrived at the colonies. The branches of the pine trees sagged down almost to a vertical hang and were covered with dry clumps. I asked the guide if it was the shells of cocoons and he looked me with a confused expression and told me, “son las mariposas” (“they are the butterflies”). Wow – I had no idea the magnitude of the colonies and the millions of delicate monarch butterflies that rest on the pine branches, clustering into heavy groups of thousands. And when the sun started to peek out from the clouds, the monarchs came alive and started flying around us as if we were in a gentle snowstorm of orange and black flakes. It was truly amazing and a moment of wonder of this awe-inspiring earth that we share. Unfortunately, logging in Mexico is threatening these colonies even though the sanctuaries and forests are protected. Similarly, the migrations patterns are in danger because the monarchs feed on the milkweed that we are spraying and killing in our parts of the United States. Without their food, where are they going to go? Without a home, is this marvel going to continue to exist? But this is a tangent for another time.
During the workweek, I am a volunteer. I come home from work sweaty, exhausted, with a raspy throat from “joyful shouting” (as Heidi so aptly described our little-kid singing), and covered in dirt and food stains from the kids’ hands and hugs. I often shelf the tiredness and indulge Marce in a little plática (chatting, one of her favorite pastimes) over a cup of tea and some yogurt and fruit. Often, I try to get some work done too by making materials for my work sites and keeping up with other necessary tasks.
During the weekends, I either pass the time as normal with a Saturday soccer game in Tepoztlan and a lazy Sunday of making bread and going for a long walk OR I am off gallivanting around Mexico with other volunteers, friends, or family. I easily spend my entire stipend in a weekend getaway and realize once again that I am not “living simply” when I have to go to the ATM to restock.
The next months of every-other week excursions are going to fly by and I am sure that I will walk away from them with some of the best memories of this year… but this is not my typical reality and I have a hard time trying to navigate the fine line between “living simply” and “living it up.” I am finding that the two do not combine. I feel guilty, I feel outside of my Mexican self, and I feel wasteful. I will enjoy the excursions greatly while I am here living it up and I have no hesitation in saying that I am going to enjoy every moment, but I will also relish the return to normalcy and “living simply” come the end of March.
Cuernavaca, Mexico Newsletter
January 2008
By Katie
‘Tis the season of vacations and visitors. With a different trip or excursion on the calendar almost every two weeks over the course of the next two months, the idea of “living simply” is starting to blur.
The majority of my time in Mexico has been, and will be, defined as “living simply” which is our call to live on a meager stipend and try to understand the hardships of our communities struggling to survive on a daily basis. I was already born into a wonderful life by virtue of being a white, American with access to education, health care, equality, freedom, and job opportunities. That is a painful, daily realization when I walk into La Estación and have the ability to walk out of it. I realize it every time I see my students with toothless grins because at the age of five their teeth have rotted and fallen out. I realize it every time my students ask me for more and more and more food when we serve lunch at Casa Tatic and I always wonder if they ever get anything else to eat during the day.
For me, this notion of “living simply” is a call to try to make the most of what I have already. It means wearing the same week’s worth of shirts over and over again, pretending that my one black shirt and the only pair of non-saggy jeans might pass as a “going out” ensemble, or breaking out Marce’s sewing machine to make my own clothes when wardrobe boredom hits. It means buying the cheapest thing on the menu when meeting up with friends downtown (which is already a luxurious opportunity that many of my work communities cannot enjoy). It means walking to and from work as my daily, affordable exercise instead of using the precious $4.50 pesos (about 45 cents) for a bus ride (let’s not even dream of a gym membership). It means coming home and spending most of my free time with Marce instead of going out with friends like I would have done in Madison. It is giving thanks for all the blessings of an education, health, and opportunities that I have had in my life so far and those that I will have when I return.
Then January and the onslaught of vacations and visitors began…
Ryan, my boyfriend from Madison, came to visit for a couple weeks. We went to a beach and then spent time in Mexico City and Cuernavaca. I tried to show him a glimpse of my reality during this year, but it is so difficult to experience daily life in a one-time visit to my work sites. Just as I cannot fully understand life in La Estación because I do not live there, I had a hard time trying to show him the reality of my life because he does not live here nor was he going to stay for very long. It was still an incredible vacation and we had a wonderful time catching up, snorkeling, going on a river-rafting excursion near the beach, surfing, going to see pyramids and ruins near Mexico City, eating out, wandering Cuernavaca and Tepoztlan, and picking up souvenirs along the way. It was not “living simply” by a long shot. It was “living it up” in Mexico for a couple weeks and now we’ll have memories to last a lifetime.
Just recently, I went to Michoacán (another state in Mexico) to see the monarch butterfly sanctuaries. Five generations of monarchs migrate from central Mexico to southern Canada every year and scientists are still somewhat baffled by how they do it, hence why it is one of the “Wonders of the World.” Sarah, Jenn and I took a weekend getaway to get to the little village of Angangeo. It is a sleepy and rustic mountain town and I felt like us three güeras were more of a sight to see for the locals than the butterflies. Apparently, this little town does not see much action besides the coming and going of tourists. We went to two different sanctuaries, both located up higher in the mountains after stretches of long, bumpy dirt roads. The cold, thin air in the pine forests up at 11,000 feet made it seem like we had left Mexico entirely. At first I did not recognize what I was seeing when we arrived at the colonies. The branches of the pine trees sagged down almost to a vertical hang and were covered with dry clumps. I asked the guide if it was the shells of cocoons and he looked me with a confused expression and told me, “son las mariposas” (“they are the butterflies”). Wow – I had no idea the magnitude of the colonies and the millions of delicate monarch butterflies that rest on the pine branches, clustering into heavy groups of thousands. And when the sun started to peek out from the clouds, the monarchs came alive and started flying around us as if we were in a gentle snowstorm of orange and black flakes. It was truly amazing and a moment of wonder of this awe-inspiring earth that we share. Unfortunately, logging in Mexico is threatening these colonies even though the sanctuaries and forests are protected. Similarly, the migrations patterns are in danger because the monarchs feed on the milkweed that we are spraying and killing in our parts of the United States. Without their food, where are they going to go? Without a home, is this marvel going to continue to exist? But this is a tangent for another time.
During the workweek, I am a volunteer. I come home from work sweaty, exhausted, with a raspy throat from “joyful shouting” (as Heidi so aptly described our little-kid singing), and covered in dirt and food stains from the kids’ hands and hugs. I often shelf the tiredness and indulge Marce in a little plática (chatting, one of her favorite pastimes) over a cup of tea and some yogurt and fruit. Often, I try to get some work done too by making materials for my work sites and keeping up with other necessary tasks.
During the weekends, I either pass the time as normal with a Saturday soccer game in Tepoztlan and a lazy Sunday of making bread and going for a long walk OR I am off gallivanting around Mexico with other volunteers, friends, or family. I easily spend my entire stipend in a weekend getaway and realize once again that I am not “living simply” when I have to go to the ATM to restock.
The next months of every-other week excursions are going to fly by and I am sure that I will walk away from them with some of the best memories of this year… but this is not my typical reality and I have a hard time trying to navigate the fine line between “living simply” and “living it up.” I am finding that the two do not combine. I feel guilty, I feel outside of my Mexican self, and I feel wasteful. I will enjoy the excursions greatly while I am here living it up and I have no hesitation in saying that I am going to enjoy every moment, but I will also relish the return to normalcy and “living simply” come the end of March.
December Newsletter - Katie in Mexico
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Cuernavaca, Mexico Newsletter
December 2007
By Katie
This is one of my favorite Christmas songs... “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know...” and it really hit me in a soft spot this year. I wonder if Bing Crosby also spent a year volunteering in Mexico... hmm, I’ll have to do some research on that one. :)
This year’s Christmas was a tough one for me; the hardest part being the lack of similarities between a Mexican Christmas and the ones I used to know. It went by in a blur without many connections keeping me grounded to such a treasured holiday that is celebrated by a multitude of heavenly host-families worldwide and in a multitude of different cultural ways.
So, what was Christmas for me in Mexico?
The holiday season started on December 16th with the nightly celebration of posadas. The word posada means “inn” and these parties reenact Mary and Joseph’s search for an inn in Bethlehem as told in the Christmas story. Almost every neighborhood plans to throw a posada, choosing a night between December 16th and December 24th. All of the neighborhood families help organize the big event even though only one home is designated as the inn.
Friends, families and guests start the posada by walking to different homes on the street, each time singing a song asking the family for room at their “inn.” Each family replies in turn denying the crowd a space at their “inn,” and the quest continues on for nine different houses. Eventually, the party arrives (still singing of course) at the designated home. The host family sings back a song of welcome and the party officially starts. Guests are served hot ponche (punch) which tastes a lot like hot apple cider but with many more fruit flavors, in fact, the punch is prepared with several chunks of warm, soft fruits which are served heartily in every mug. Delicious, messy, and ultimately sticky – I never mastered the way to get the chunks of fruit out of my mug without using my fingers or having a piece fall on my face when taking a big gulp.
After a period of mingling and drinking ponche, a truck-load of piñatas are pulled out, each filled with mandarin oranges, jicama (a root vegetable that tastes more like a fruit), fresh peanuts, sugar cane, and candies. For fear of having too few piñatas for the party, families seemed to err on the side of caution and buy more than enough. Kids are lined up, shortest to tallest and in lines of boys and girls. Everyone gets a turn to take a swing at the piñatas, normally with the older kids wearing a blindfold to keep things interesting. I even got a chance at the piñata during the posada hosted on my street (with blindfold, of course). The piñata rope-holders tricked me and let the piñata fall to the far side of one wall and the crowd only yelled at me “¡ABAJO!” (“down”) – so I started crouching and blindly swinging around at about knee level. Well of course, everyone was laughing hysterically at the clueless güera trying unsuccessfully to find this darn piñata. Haha. I swallowed my pride with some ponche that night but the laughs we all shared were well worth the minute or two of blindfolded absurdity.
Posadas were a full week and a half of celebrations; I was invited to a different posada almost every night and sometimes having to choose between several invitations. Still juggling my average work schedule, I actually went to a posada about every other night. I was a bit tired by the end of the whole thing but it was well worth it - it was a fun way to engage in a completely new tradition of this culture.
I woke up on the morning of Christmas Eve and found that all the stores were open and people were going about their daily business as if it was any other day. Silly me, I was expecting that stores would be closed and the only people out would be the ones en route to their family’s home. So I went for a long walk and then came home to spend the rest of the surreal morning and afternoon with Marce and Sarah.
The only celebration for Christmas occurs on Christmas Eve, a late dinner around the tune of ten o’clock at night. I spent that time with Sarah and her host family. I was quite moved that her host family came from different parts of Mexico and even a few European countries to be together and that separated or divorced spouses were even welcomed to share the time with their family. Before the meal, we each went around and gave a toast for our blessings and joys and gratitude for those around us. Well, perhaps it wasn’t that different after all. We had a big meal with traditional dishes, families came from far and wide to celebrate, and we gave thanks for being together.
Yet still, Christmas itself was so unlike my “Christmas” in the United States. My memories of Christmas are of my family cozied up in a warm home with blankets of shimmering snow on the ground outside, crackling fireplaces, the lovingly prepared meal of our own Scandinavian treats (lefse!) and Christmas cookies. I remember coming home from the late, candlelit church service on Christmas Eve and then putting on slippers with my Sunday best dress or skirt (what a classy combo). I remember the lazy ease of Christmas Day and not a care in the world except hoping there were enough leftovers of my favorite dishes for our second feast. Most importantly, Christmas is a time to share our lives with our loved ones for two whole, uninterrupted days. It is the gentle and steady love of a father, the close heart-to-hearts with a mother that is becoming a friend, the patient wisdom of a grandma sharing with her grandkids, the joking banter with an older brother. Although I have a host family here, a Mexican substitute for this time, it is different to spend Christmas away from those who share my blood. Family is family and there is no replacement. That was what was missed the most.
On one hand, the absence of “Christmas” and my family made me long for the comforts of home; and on the other hand, it made me much more open to all the differences of a Mexican Christmas. I attempted to throw myself into the celebration and enjoyed being welcomed into homes and families who are celebrating the same event but with their own unique customs. I have received a lot of love here in Mexico from the other volunteers, from neighbors, the continual flow of incoming cards from the Bethany congregation, and especially from Marce and her family, all of which is so humbling and comforting during such a vulnerable time of year. Without, it would have been much harder to find the beauty in the holiday spirit that I did find in Mexico.
Cuernavaca, Mexico Newsletter
December 2007
By Katie
This is one of my favorite Christmas songs... “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know...” and it really hit me in a soft spot this year. I wonder if Bing Crosby also spent a year volunteering in Mexico... hmm, I’ll have to do some research on that one. :)
This year’s Christmas was a tough one for me; the hardest part being the lack of similarities between a Mexican Christmas and the ones I used to know. It went by in a blur without many connections keeping me grounded to such a treasured holiday that is celebrated by a multitude of heavenly host-families worldwide and in a multitude of different cultural ways.
So, what was Christmas for me in Mexico?
The holiday season started on December 16th with the nightly celebration of posadas. The word posada means “inn” and these parties reenact Mary and Joseph’s search for an inn in Bethlehem as told in the Christmas story. Almost every neighborhood plans to throw a posada, choosing a night between December 16th and December 24th. All of the neighborhood families help organize the big event even though only one home is designated as the inn.
Friends, families and guests start the posada by walking to different homes on the street, each time singing a song asking the family for room at their “inn.” Each family replies in turn denying the crowd a space at their “inn,” and the quest continues on for nine different houses. Eventually, the party arrives (still singing of course) at the designated home. The host family sings back a song of welcome and the party officially starts. Guests are served hot ponche (punch) which tastes a lot like hot apple cider but with many more fruit flavors, in fact, the punch is prepared with several chunks of warm, soft fruits which are served heartily in every mug. Delicious, messy, and ultimately sticky – I never mastered the way to get the chunks of fruit out of my mug without using my fingers or having a piece fall on my face when taking a big gulp.
After a period of mingling and drinking ponche, a truck-load of piñatas are pulled out, each filled with mandarin oranges, jicama (a root vegetable that tastes more like a fruit), fresh peanuts, sugar cane, and candies. For fear of having too few piñatas for the party, families seemed to err on the side of caution and buy more than enough. Kids are lined up, shortest to tallest and in lines of boys and girls. Everyone gets a turn to take a swing at the piñatas, normally with the older kids wearing a blindfold to keep things interesting. I even got a chance at the piñata during the posada hosted on my street (with blindfold, of course). The piñata rope-holders tricked me and let the piñata fall to the far side of one wall and the crowd only yelled at me “¡ABAJO!” (“down”) – so I started crouching and blindly swinging around at about knee level. Well of course, everyone was laughing hysterically at the clueless güera trying unsuccessfully to find this darn piñata. Haha. I swallowed my pride with some ponche that night but the laughs we all shared were well worth the minute or two of blindfolded absurdity.
Posadas were a full week and a half of celebrations; I was invited to a different posada almost every night and sometimes having to choose between several invitations. Still juggling my average work schedule, I actually went to a posada about every other night. I was a bit tired by the end of the whole thing but it was well worth it - it was a fun way to engage in a completely new tradition of this culture.
I woke up on the morning of Christmas Eve and found that all the stores were open and people were going about their daily business as if it was any other day. Silly me, I was expecting that stores would be closed and the only people out would be the ones en route to their family’s home. So I went for a long walk and then came home to spend the rest of the surreal morning and afternoon with Marce and Sarah.
The only celebration for Christmas occurs on Christmas Eve, a late dinner around the tune of ten o’clock at night. I spent that time with Sarah and her host family. I was quite moved that her host family came from different parts of Mexico and even a few European countries to be together and that separated or divorced spouses were even welcomed to share the time with their family. Before the meal, we each went around and gave a toast for our blessings and joys and gratitude for those around us. Well, perhaps it wasn’t that different after all. We had a big meal with traditional dishes, families came from far and wide to celebrate, and we gave thanks for being together.
Yet still, Christmas itself was so unlike my “Christmas” in the United States. My memories of Christmas are of my family cozied up in a warm home with blankets of shimmering snow on the ground outside, crackling fireplaces, the lovingly prepared meal of our own Scandinavian treats (lefse!) and Christmas cookies. I remember coming home from the late, candlelit church service on Christmas Eve and then putting on slippers with my Sunday best dress or skirt (what a classy combo). I remember the lazy ease of Christmas Day and not a care in the world except hoping there were enough leftovers of my favorite dishes for our second feast. Most importantly, Christmas is a time to share our lives with our loved ones for two whole, uninterrupted days. It is the gentle and steady love of a father, the close heart-to-hearts with a mother that is becoming a friend, the patient wisdom of a grandma sharing with her grandkids, the joking banter with an older brother. Although I have a host family here, a Mexican substitute for this time, it is different to spend Christmas away from those who share my blood. Family is family and there is no replacement. That was what was missed the most.
On one hand, the absence of “Christmas” and my family made me long for the comforts of home; and on the other hand, it made me much more open to all the differences of a Mexican Christmas. I attempted to throw myself into the celebration and enjoyed being welcomed into homes and families who are celebrating the same event but with their own unique customs. I have received a lot of love here in Mexico from the other volunteers, from neighbors, the continual flow of incoming cards from the Bethany congregation, and especially from Marce and her family, all of which is so humbling and comforting during such a vulnerable time of year. Without, it would have been much harder to find the beauty in the holiday spirit that I did find in Mexico.
December/January Newsletter - Sarah in Mexico
Sarah's December/January Newsletter
Advent: A Season of Waiting and Preparing
“What has happened to our ability to dwell in unknowing, to live inside a question and coexist with the tensions of uncertainty? Where is our willingness to incubate pain and let it birth something new? What has happened to patient unfolding, to endurance? These things are what form the ground of waiting. And if you look carefully, you’ll see that they’re also the seedbed of creativity and growth—what allows us to do the daring and to break through to newness…Creativity flourishes not in certainty but in questions. Growth germinates not in tent dwelling but in upheaval. Yet the seduction is always security rather than venturing, instant knowing rather than deliberate waiting.”
-Sue Monk Kidd, When the Heart Waits
Though Advent has passed, I find its themes of waiting, expectation, and preparation to be hugely helpful as I try to articulate much of what I am seeing and learning in Mexico. Language of wandering and becoming not only provides me with a lens for this year of service, but also speaks to the realities of many Mexicans and our collective faith in the coming of hope, love and peace to our broken world.
Perhaps more important to Mexicans than Christmas Eve and Day are the 8 days prior to Christmas, when families and neighbors gather to take part in the tradition of “Las Posadas” (posada means “inn” or “shelter” in Spanish). Celebrated nightly between December 16 and 23, Las Posadas commemorate Mary and Joseph’s long journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. On the night of a posada, neighbors gather in the street and reenact this journey, wandering from home to home in search of a place to stay. At each house, a call-and-response litany is sung between those in the street, who are pleading for a place to rest, and the owners of the house. The group is denied and turned away house after house, as there is “no room for them in the inn.” Finally, the weary travelers arrive at the home that will make room for them. The owners sing, “Yes, yes, come in,” and, at once, the doors open wide, everyone shouts and throws their arms in the air, the piñatas are hung, ponche is served (Mexican version of apple cider), and the music and dancing begin. The Mexican party is on! The kids went nuts over striking and breaking the piñatas, and everyone—from age 3 to probably 75—danced together in the street. Dance is such a fundamental part of this culture, and I love to watch the way Mexicans of all ages and sizes move and twist their bodies without a hint of inhibition. It’s a riot!
There’s a way in which Mary and Joseph’s journey to the stable serves as such a helpful metaphor for naming and describing some of my experiences and learning in Mexico. Walking for miles through rugged, deserted territory, searching for a place to rest their weary bodies, consistently rejected by those who aren’t willing to make room, finally finding a place amongst the cattle and manure, and celebrating there the birth of a savior…What does this story mean for Mexicans who observe it so faithfully? On what road are they wandering? For what or whom do they wait? Where do they get turned away? Why do they get turned away? I have to believe the themes of waiting, of long, rigorous journey, and of homelessness and rejection strike many chords with Mexican people and history. Theirs is a story of struggle and persistence, of protest and progress. I think about this arduous journey on a macro scale, and the ways in which the Spanish Conquest, NAFTA, globalization, political corruption, and immigration reveal deep struggle, consistent rejection, and unyielding perseverance. On a micro scale, it draws my attention to the women of Cuentepec who travel—two or three times a week—down a long, steep, treacherous trail to the river to wash themselves, their clothes, and their dishes. I think about the myriad families who have told me of their husband, uncle or son’s dangerous journey across the border. It is a costly trip in every sense of the word—not only hugely expensive, but also one that requires incredible physical stamina, heart-wrenching separation from loved ones, and sometimes even one’s life. (More Mexicans have died trying to cross the border than the number of people killed as a result of the Berlin Wall.) And what about the children who walk through the city alone at all hours of the day and night, trying to sell a bracelet, a rose, even a stick of gum? All of these realities see Mexicans oppressed and turned away, with no other option than to keep traveling.
What is so beautiful about Mexicans is the way they find joy in the midst of their suffering. While keenly aware of their struggles, they’re also so genuinely aware of the gifts. There is noticeable urgency to keep pressing forward, to speak out against the corruption of the government, to demand equal rights for women, to respect and enhance the traditions of indigenous culture, to find a way for all children to be fed and educated, to eliminate the systems that make immigration to the U.S. necessary, etc. But within this deep longing for a world that is just, there is also deliberate attention to all that is good and worthy of celebration in this world. I think one of the misunderstandings of waiting may be that we project ourselves too far forward, focusing on preparing to live rather than living. My brothers and sisters in Mexico are teaching me how to live in joy and in discontent, how to live both in the present and in the hope for a new, reconciled world.
Emmanuel: God With Us
“First Coming” by Madeleine L’Engle
He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. He did not wait
till hearts were pure. In joy he came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.
He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share or grief, to touch our pain,
He came with love: Rejoice! Rejoice!
Celebrating the coming of Christ in a new land and culture was both truly wonderful and downright strange. Almost everything that I associate with Christmas was missing: there was no rice pudding or lefse, no worship or Christmas carols, no presents underneath the tree, no Christmas lights sparkling in the streets, no below-zero temperatures, and no Rohde family cacophony. Instead, I woke up on the morning of the 24th to a day that felt like any ordinary day in Mexico. Taxis and rutas were running, all stores were open, it was 75º and the sun was shining, people were out and about running errands, buying groceries, going to work, etc. I asked a few people that morning about their plans for the holiday, and the typical response was, “Well, I’m not quite sure. We’ll probably get together with the rest of the family for a big meal.” In my head, I’m thinking, “What? You still don’t know where you’re going to celebrate Christmas? Don’t you make those plans in October?” But in Mexico, planning is highly overrated, and it is so common for families to live close to or with each other that sharing meals and being together is not such a rare, planned occasion.
Most Mexicans celebrate Christmas Eve by gathering for a big meal around 10:00 pm. I joined my host family for the night, and our evening feast included smoked turkey, dried cod in chili sauce, carrot and raisin salad in cream sauce, garlic bread, and egg and potato casserole. It was fine, though I think everyday Mexican food is much more tasty. Toward the end of the meal, Sol (my host mother) stood up to make a toast, followed by each of her children and in-laws. After about five of them had shared a toast, one of the son-in-laws from Holland, who speaks very minimal Spanish, nudged me and said, “You know we have to do this too, right?” We were going in order of age—thank God!—so I still had adequate time to prepare. I rehearsed my toast a dozen times in my head and think I pulled it off pretty well for my first time. Talk about pressure! Our party ended around midnight, but I tagged along with one of Sol’s daughters to a gathering at the in-laws’. We arrived around 1:00 am and the party was literally just beginning. I was exhausted, but these are the moments I must set aside my preferred sleeping and eating habits, and remind myself of the opportunity that it is to live in a new place and culture!
Mexicans don’t do much on Christmas Day—probably because most wake up when the day is half over! I spent all morning in my pajamas, helped my family clean and water plants, and played a few card games with the kids. I joined one of my co-workers’ families in the evening—we heated up leftovers, sang songs, and did lots of visiting—all things that made it feel a bit more like a holiday to me.
There’s no question about it—I missed home deeply. But at the same time, I didn’t find myself wishing to be anywhere other than exactly where I was. I could get caught up in all that was weird or different, but that seems to deny the beauty and truth of Christmas. If I think God only comes in certain places and traditions, then I fail to recognize the magnitude of God’s love and promise to all humanity. Part of the wonder and challenge of this experience is discovering the divine in places and people unimaginable: in bizarre traditions, in collective laughs, in sharing a meal, in listening to a story, in playing with children, in receiving a gift. This life stirs faith in a God who is so beyond, yet so intimate, a God who spun the universe into existence, yet also comes to us in the form of an infant, a God who dwells in the known and familiar, yet continues to be revealed in new and unforeseen places. Such convictions get me right back to the heart of Christmas, when people and cultures around the world celebrate the coming of Emmanuel, God with us.
One world meets another:
The Rohde’s take on Mexico!!
The themes of waiting and arriving hit almost too close to home this year, as the days prior to my family’s arrival in Mexico seemed to move SO slowly. After a few significant travel complications, Mom, Dad, Anna, and Inga walked through the sliding glass doors of the Mexico City Airport, and we embarked on what would be the most incredible, jam-packed, life-giving, hilarious, surreal, and beautiful week together! Our days were filled with family meeting family, blondes meeting morenos (dark-skinned folk), brothers meeting sisters, home meeting home. To be able to introduce my family to this world and all the people, places, sights, and tastes that surround me was simply wonderful. Here are a few of the highlights:
Our day spent in Cuentepec is one that will not quickly be forgotten! Several weeks prior to my family’s arrival, the women of Cuentepec began their “planning meetings” to discuss who would buy the cheese, shell the peanuts, make the salsas, etc. They were committed to putting on a true Mexican fiesta and that they did! When we walked into Lety’s home, the women were scurrying in and out of the kitchen preparing the feast, and the children just kind of stood and stared. Though they didn’t say a word, their faces screamed, “Oh my gosh, there’s three of them!” Similar to my first few times in the community, the women and children were quite timid and reserved. We spent much of our time talking with Maria Luisa (my supervisor) about her work in the communities and the challenges and rewards of such work. The women graced us with a spread of delicious, authentic Mexican treats and dishes—roasted peanuts, eggs in green and red chili sauces, vegetables, salsas, fresh cheese, beans, and white and blue corn tortillas hot off the grill. It’s really not an exaggeration to say there was enough food to feed the entire pueblo. And since no fiesta is complete without a piñata, they had two “true” piñatas (made of ceramic) stuffed with the traditional goodies of peanuts, mandarins, and sugar cane. We formed a circle around the piñata and everyone sang, cheered, clapped, and laughed. It was too beautiful—there we were, Mexicans and Americans speaking Nahaut’l, Spanish, and English, busting out in hearty laughter as people swung at, missed, and shattered the piñata. For those few minutes, humor and laughter transcended our apparent differences and illuminated our shared humanity. We couldn’t even come close to communicating in the same language, but joy and love really need no words. It moved me to tears to watch one family and culture embrace another. If that’s not the best Christmas gift in the world, I’m not sure what is.
Being in charge was almost too much fun! I loved being the tour guide, and think it spawned a new sense of confidence in and ownership of my life here in Mexico. One of the greatest thrills was taking on the role of translator. We had terrific conversations with my host families and co-workers, and mostly, translation went pretty smoothly. Certain conversations were more difficult than others though! Take, for example, our chat with the architect in Cuentepec, as she described the process of constructing the cisterns and the function of the circular excavation, filters, tubes, and pumps. Or how about the conversation Dad had with my host mother about the history of Protestantism, the difference in the authority of the priesthood between Catholicism and Lutheranism, and the mutual agreement between our churches on justification by grace. Uffda! In our dual-language conversations, we also came across some linguistic expressions that have hilarious translations: When Marce heard about our winter weather, she responded, “Ay, que bárbara.” This means that it’s awful or miserable, but her reaction literally translates, “Oh my, how barbaric.” A little extreme when all we’re talking about is snow! And when Mom asked my co-worker Nuvia how I’ve changed, her first response was, “Es más tostada.” This means that I’m a bit more tan, but the literal translation is, “She’s more toasted.” Ha!
Bringing in the New Year at Pie de la Cuesta was awesome! A rugged beach near Acapulco, Pie de la Cuesta is known for having the most spectacular sunsets on the Pacific! It was a great destination for our family, as it freed us to simply relax, eat, and be together. We laid in the sun, walked barefoot along the beach, enjoyed delicious fresh seafood, took naps in the hammocks, laughed like crazy, spent hours around the table discussing light topics like vocation, theology, politics, and love, spotted whales breeching in the distance, and watched fireworks launched over giant waves. It was heavenly!
So we had a great time! Though the goodbye was difficult, I had an unexpected sense of peace in sending them back to the Midwest and staying behind in Mexico. It was a reminder that this place has become home to me, and I continue to receive deeper clarity that this is where God has called me to live and serve this year. Thanks to all of you who continue to strengthen and support that sense of call within me.
Deep peace and joy to you in this New Year,
Sarah
Advent: A Season of Waiting and Preparing
“What has happened to our ability to dwell in unknowing, to live inside a question and coexist with the tensions of uncertainty? Where is our willingness to incubate pain and let it birth something new? What has happened to patient unfolding, to endurance? These things are what form the ground of waiting. And if you look carefully, you’ll see that they’re also the seedbed of creativity and growth—what allows us to do the daring and to break through to newness…Creativity flourishes not in certainty but in questions. Growth germinates not in tent dwelling but in upheaval. Yet the seduction is always security rather than venturing, instant knowing rather than deliberate waiting.”
-Sue Monk Kidd, When the Heart Waits
Though Advent has passed, I find its themes of waiting, expectation, and preparation to be hugely helpful as I try to articulate much of what I am seeing and learning in Mexico. Language of wandering and becoming not only provides me with a lens for this year of service, but also speaks to the realities of many Mexicans and our collective faith in the coming of hope, love and peace to our broken world.
Perhaps more important to Mexicans than Christmas Eve and Day are the 8 days prior to Christmas, when families and neighbors gather to take part in the tradition of “Las Posadas” (posada means “inn” or “shelter” in Spanish). Celebrated nightly between December 16 and 23, Las Posadas commemorate Mary and Joseph’s long journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. On the night of a posada, neighbors gather in the street and reenact this journey, wandering from home to home in search of a place to stay. At each house, a call-and-response litany is sung between those in the street, who are pleading for a place to rest, and the owners of the house. The group is denied and turned away house after house, as there is “no room for them in the inn.” Finally, the weary travelers arrive at the home that will make room for them. The owners sing, “Yes, yes, come in,” and, at once, the doors open wide, everyone shouts and throws their arms in the air, the piñatas are hung, ponche is served (Mexican version of apple cider), and the music and dancing begin. The Mexican party is on! The kids went nuts over striking and breaking the piñatas, and everyone—from age 3 to probably 75—danced together in the street. Dance is such a fundamental part of this culture, and I love to watch the way Mexicans of all ages and sizes move and twist their bodies without a hint of inhibition. It’s a riot!
There’s a way in which Mary and Joseph’s journey to the stable serves as such a helpful metaphor for naming and describing some of my experiences and learning in Mexico. Walking for miles through rugged, deserted territory, searching for a place to rest their weary bodies, consistently rejected by those who aren’t willing to make room, finally finding a place amongst the cattle and manure, and celebrating there the birth of a savior…What does this story mean for Mexicans who observe it so faithfully? On what road are they wandering? For what or whom do they wait? Where do they get turned away? Why do they get turned away? I have to believe the themes of waiting, of long, rigorous journey, and of homelessness and rejection strike many chords with Mexican people and history. Theirs is a story of struggle and persistence, of protest and progress. I think about this arduous journey on a macro scale, and the ways in which the Spanish Conquest, NAFTA, globalization, political corruption, and immigration reveal deep struggle, consistent rejection, and unyielding perseverance. On a micro scale, it draws my attention to the women of Cuentepec who travel—two or three times a week—down a long, steep, treacherous trail to the river to wash themselves, their clothes, and their dishes. I think about the myriad families who have told me of their husband, uncle or son’s dangerous journey across the border. It is a costly trip in every sense of the word—not only hugely expensive, but also one that requires incredible physical stamina, heart-wrenching separation from loved ones, and sometimes even one’s life. (More Mexicans have died trying to cross the border than the number of people killed as a result of the Berlin Wall.) And what about the children who walk through the city alone at all hours of the day and night, trying to sell a bracelet, a rose, even a stick of gum? All of these realities see Mexicans oppressed and turned away, with no other option than to keep traveling.
What is so beautiful about Mexicans is the way they find joy in the midst of their suffering. While keenly aware of their struggles, they’re also so genuinely aware of the gifts. There is noticeable urgency to keep pressing forward, to speak out against the corruption of the government, to demand equal rights for women, to respect and enhance the traditions of indigenous culture, to find a way for all children to be fed and educated, to eliminate the systems that make immigration to the U.S. necessary, etc. But within this deep longing for a world that is just, there is also deliberate attention to all that is good and worthy of celebration in this world. I think one of the misunderstandings of waiting may be that we project ourselves too far forward, focusing on preparing to live rather than living. My brothers and sisters in Mexico are teaching me how to live in joy and in discontent, how to live both in the present and in the hope for a new, reconciled world.
Emmanuel: God With Us
“First Coming” by Madeleine L’Engle
He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. He did not wait
till hearts were pure. In joy he came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.
He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share or grief, to touch our pain,
He came with love: Rejoice! Rejoice!
Celebrating the coming of Christ in a new land and culture was both truly wonderful and downright strange. Almost everything that I associate with Christmas was missing: there was no rice pudding or lefse, no worship or Christmas carols, no presents underneath the tree, no Christmas lights sparkling in the streets, no below-zero temperatures, and no Rohde family cacophony. Instead, I woke up on the morning of the 24th to a day that felt like any ordinary day in Mexico. Taxis and rutas were running, all stores were open, it was 75º and the sun was shining, people were out and about running errands, buying groceries, going to work, etc. I asked a few people that morning about their plans for the holiday, and the typical response was, “Well, I’m not quite sure. We’ll probably get together with the rest of the family for a big meal.” In my head, I’m thinking, “What? You still don’t know where you’re going to celebrate Christmas? Don’t you make those plans in October?” But in Mexico, planning is highly overrated, and it is so common for families to live close to or with each other that sharing meals and being together is not such a rare, planned occasion.
Most Mexicans celebrate Christmas Eve by gathering for a big meal around 10:00 pm. I joined my host family for the night, and our evening feast included smoked turkey, dried cod in chili sauce, carrot and raisin salad in cream sauce, garlic bread, and egg and potato casserole. It was fine, though I think everyday Mexican food is much more tasty. Toward the end of the meal, Sol (my host mother) stood up to make a toast, followed by each of her children and in-laws. After about five of them had shared a toast, one of the son-in-laws from Holland, who speaks very minimal Spanish, nudged me and said, “You know we have to do this too, right?” We were going in order of age—thank God!—so I still had adequate time to prepare. I rehearsed my toast a dozen times in my head and think I pulled it off pretty well for my first time. Talk about pressure! Our party ended around midnight, but I tagged along with one of Sol’s daughters to a gathering at the in-laws’. We arrived around 1:00 am and the party was literally just beginning. I was exhausted, but these are the moments I must set aside my preferred sleeping and eating habits, and remind myself of the opportunity that it is to live in a new place and culture!
Mexicans don’t do much on Christmas Day—probably because most wake up when the day is half over! I spent all morning in my pajamas, helped my family clean and water plants, and played a few card games with the kids. I joined one of my co-workers’ families in the evening—we heated up leftovers, sang songs, and did lots of visiting—all things that made it feel a bit more like a holiday to me.
There’s no question about it—I missed home deeply. But at the same time, I didn’t find myself wishing to be anywhere other than exactly where I was. I could get caught up in all that was weird or different, but that seems to deny the beauty and truth of Christmas. If I think God only comes in certain places and traditions, then I fail to recognize the magnitude of God’s love and promise to all humanity. Part of the wonder and challenge of this experience is discovering the divine in places and people unimaginable: in bizarre traditions, in collective laughs, in sharing a meal, in listening to a story, in playing with children, in receiving a gift. This life stirs faith in a God who is so beyond, yet so intimate, a God who spun the universe into existence, yet also comes to us in the form of an infant, a God who dwells in the known and familiar, yet continues to be revealed in new and unforeseen places. Such convictions get me right back to the heart of Christmas, when people and cultures around the world celebrate the coming of Emmanuel, God with us.
One world meets another:
The Rohde’s take on Mexico!!
The themes of waiting and arriving hit almost too close to home this year, as the days prior to my family’s arrival in Mexico seemed to move SO slowly. After a few significant travel complications, Mom, Dad, Anna, and Inga walked through the sliding glass doors of the Mexico City Airport, and we embarked on what would be the most incredible, jam-packed, life-giving, hilarious, surreal, and beautiful week together! Our days were filled with family meeting family, blondes meeting morenos (dark-skinned folk), brothers meeting sisters, home meeting home. To be able to introduce my family to this world and all the people, places, sights, and tastes that surround me was simply wonderful. Here are a few of the highlights:
Our day spent in Cuentepec is one that will not quickly be forgotten! Several weeks prior to my family’s arrival, the women of Cuentepec began their “planning meetings” to discuss who would buy the cheese, shell the peanuts, make the salsas, etc. They were committed to putting on a true Mexican fiesta and that they did! When we walked into Lety’s home, the women were scurrying in and out of the kitchen preparing the feast, and the children just kind of stood and stared. Though they didn’t say a word, their faces screamed, “Oh my gosh, there’s three of them!” Similar to my first few times in the community, the women and children were quite timid and reserved. We spent much of our time talking with Maria Luisa (my supervisor) about her work in the communities and the challenges and rewards of such work. The women graced us with a spread of delicious, authentic Mexican treats and dishes—roasted peanuts, eggs in green and red chili sauces, vegetables, salsas, fresh cheese, beans, and white and blue corn tortillas hot off the grill. It’s really not an exaggeration to say there was enough food to feed the entire pueblo. And since no fiesta is complete without a piñata, they had two “true” piñatas (made of ceramic) stuffed with the traditional goodies of peanuts, mandarins, and sugar cane. We formed a circle around the piñata and everyone sang, cheered, clapped, and laughed. It was too beautiful—there we were, Mexicans and Americans speaking Nahaut’l, Spanish, and English, busting out in hearty laughter as people swung at, missed, and shattered the piñata. For those few minutes, humor and laughter transcended our apparent differences and illuminated our shared humanity. We couldn’t even come close to communicating in the same language, but joy and love really need no words. It moved me to tears to watch one family and culture embrace another. If that’s not the best Christmas gift in the world, I’m not sure what is.
Being in charge was almost too much fun! I loved being the tour guide, and think it spawned a new sense of confidence in and ownership of my life here in Mexico. One of the greatest thrills was taking on the role of translator. We had terrific conversations with my host families and co-workers, and mostly, translation went pretty smoothly. Certain conversations were more difficult than others though! Take, for example, our chat with the architect in Cuentepec, as she described the process of constructing the cisterns and the function of the circular excavation, filters, tubes, and pumps. Or how about the conversation Dad had with my host mother about the history of Protestantism, the difference in the authority of the priesthood between Catholicism and Lutheranism, and the mutual agreement between our churches on justification by grace. Uffda! In our dual-language conversations, we also came across some linguistic expressions that have hilarious translations: When Marce heard about our winter weather, she responded, “Ay, que bárbara.” This means that it’s awful or miserable, but her reaction literally translates, “Oh my, how barbaric.” A little extreme when all we’re talking about is snow! And when Mom asked my co-worker Nuvia how I’ve changed, her first response was, “Es más tostada.” This means that I’m a bit more tan, but the literal translation is, “She’s more toasted.” Ha!
Bringing in the New Year at Pie de la Cuesta was awesome! A rugged beach near Acapulco, Pie de la Cuesta is known for having the most spectacular sunsets on the Pacific! It was a great destination for our family, as it freed us to simply relax, eat, and be together. We laid in the sun, walked barefoot along the beach, enjoyed delicious fresh seafood, took naps in the hammocks, laughed like crazy, spent hours around the table discussing light topics like vocation, theology, politics, and love, spotted whales breeching in the distance, and watched fireworks launched over giant waves. It was heavenly!
So we had a great time! Though the goodbye was difficult, I had an unexpected sense of peace in sending them back to the Midwest and staying behind in Mexico. It was a reminder that this place has become home to me, and I continue to receive deeper clarity that this is where God has called me to live and serve this year. Thanks to all of you who continue to strengthen and support that sense of call within me.
Deep peace and joy to you in this New Year,
Sarah
Saturday, January 26, 2008
January Newsletter - Ashley in Slovakia
Life in Hybe
Ashley, Young Adult in Global Mission
January Newsletter
Greetings from Hybe! As you all probably know by now, I have switched to a new placement. I now live in the community of Hybe in North Central Slovakia (in the higher Tatras mountains). After returning from a holiday trip to see my friends, I packed up in mid-January and moved to Hybe. I had many great experiences in Koseca, and met lots of wonderful people, but there ultimately wasn’t enough work for a foreign volunteer to contribute to (without being able to really speak the language). Also, the communication between everyone was lacking, and we all decided I would be happier and more useful somewhere else. I am thankful for my experiences in Koseca, and I am looking at the situation in a very positive light: I wanted to try and work with the elderly and was given the opportunity, and now I will be given the opportunities of working with younger people, working in the church, and living with a host family! Between the two parts of my year, I will have a wide variety of Slovak experiences, which is pretty exciting! I feel like the time I spent with Zuza was valuable for many reasons, one being because she was patient with my speaking Slovak. She took the time to speak with me, repeat things, help me understand, and the one-on-one practice time really helped prepare me for communicating here. It has been especially helpful in communicating with my host parents and pastor (who don’t speak English, but are all trying to learn just for me).
The village of Hybe is a very tight little community with a lot of focus on the church. The pastor, Stanislav Grega, is very ambitious (I’ve been told that he is sleeping with an English book every night because he is so determined to speak to me!) and committed to the groups of the church and to the many projects he has started. I’m still in the process of making a schedule/plan for my duties during my time here, but I think I will be spending a lot of time with the youth groups in the church. I also think I will participate in the adult choir, help with the children/youth choir, attend Bible study (even though I can’t really understand a lot, I’m excited for the time set aside for this), help work at the youth hangout center, and help teach and tutor English and two different schools. Although it was great to be a part of the Diakonia family in Koseca, it’s even better to be involved with the whole community here! The people here have been so welcoming and sweet! I feel like I fit in well here and am already much happier than before! On my first night here the youth group presented me with a cake they made especially for me. On my first Sunday church service here, the children/youth choir prepared a song in English to sing for me! “O Be Careful”, and I got to sing along with them. I also got quite a warm greeting from my new host family: Starka (Grandma, Jan’s mother), Jan (dad), Jana (but she insists that everyone call her “mama”), Janka, and Katka. They have been so great and I’ve felt comfortable in their home from the very beginning. Starka, Jan, and Jana don’t speak any English, but the two daughters both speak some. They speak about the same amount of English as I do Slovak, so we have fun communicating in our created 50/50 language. They are determined to talk to me and always have a dictionary around.
Although I’ve only spent a short amount of time here so far, I’ve already been here for some pretty exciting events! On my second day here we went to my host mom’s sister’s 50th birthday bash, where I got to meet quite a few of their relatives and get in on all the family craziness! My host sister Katka added four new fish to her tank (for a total of 9), and we are in the process of choosing names for them together. She also has a snail in the tank, and when I asked her what its’ name was, she gasped and said, “I forgot, he doesn’t have a name! You get to name him!” And so I named him Fred (his full name is Fred Flintstone), and I think they liked my name! Also, their oven/stove broke down and we put in a new one (quite exciting), and their hot pot broke, so I went to the store with my host mom and helped her pick out another one. When you turn the new hot pot on, half of it glows blue and my host sisters turn out the lights and everybody gets really excited! It’s pretty funny! I thank God for the Turcanova family, they are wonderful!
Like before, I am helping teach English. This time around I will be working with younger students at the school here in Hybe (ages 11-15). So far I’ve had two days of teaching here (5 lessons per week) and they’ve gone pretty well. The teachers I’m working with (Zdenka and Sonja) are very organized and helpful, and I really appreciate co-teaching with them (as opposed to teaching alone, like I was before). I will also be helping at the neighboring village’s high school for boys, working with Zuzana. Zuzana lives in Hybe, is very active in our church, and my #1 contact person! She lived and worked in Canada for three years as a nanny, so her English is amazing. Her two sons, Radko and Marek, are very cute and have warmed up to me pretty quickly! Marek and I have already spent some quality time together, looking through his book and pointing out animals and colors to each other (he tells me their names in English, then I tell him their names in Slovak) and we help each other learn. She is fantastic, and I know she will be a great and supportive friend throughout my time here!
For the month of January, we were given these questions to consider: “Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” (1946) may have been seen by more Americans than any other film. As its title suggests, the film explores the very question: What would a “life that matters” look like? And perhaps more specifically “Are some lives more significant than others?” I immediately thought of a quote I have hanging on my bedroom wall here:
“No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of it for others.”
–Charles Dickens
I think that in the eyes of God, no lives matter more or less than others’. I believe that He loves all of us equally, and hopes that each of us fulfill our lives by spreading His love through our given gifts. I think a “life that matters” is a life that is spent with a true heart, loving others, and loving God. I hope to spread His love here and make real connections with our brothers and sisters in Slovakia! I will keep you updated on my experiences here in Hybe!
Thank you so much for all of your support!! To read more about my experiences, check out my blog online at:
www.ashleyrenslovak.blogspot.com
Ashley, Young Adult in Global Mission
January Newsletter
Greetings from Hybe! As you all probably know by now, I have switched to a new placement. I now live in the community of Hybe in North Central Slovakia (in the higher Tatras mountains). After returning from a holiday trip to see my friends, I packed up in mid-January and moved to Hybe. I had many great experiences in Koseca, and met lots of wonderful people, but there ultimately wasn’t enough work for a foreign volunteer to contribute to (without being able to really speak the language). Also, the communication between everyone was lacking, and we all decided I would be happier and more useful somewhere else. I am thankful for my experiences in Koseca, and I am looking at the situation in a very positive light: I wanted to try and work with the elderly and was given the opportunity, and now I will be given the opportunities of working with younger people, working in the church, and living with a host family! Between the two parts of my year, I will have a wide variety of Slovak experiences, which is pretty exciting! I feel like the time I spent with Zuza was valuable for many reasons, one being because she was patient with my speaking Slovak. She took the time to speak with me, repeat things, help me understand, and the one-on-one practice time really helped prepare me for communicating here. It has been especially helpful in communicating with my host parents and pastor (who don’t speak English, but are all trying to learn just for me).
The village of Hybe is a very tight little community with a lot of focus on the church. The pastor, Stanislav Grega, is very ambitious (I’ve been told that he is sleeping with an English book every night because he is so determined to speak to me!) and committed to the groups of the church and to the many projects he has started. I’m still in the process of making a schedule/plan for my duties during my time here, but I think I will be spending a lot of time with the youth groups in the church. I also think I will participate in the adult choir, help with the children/youth choir, attend Bible study (even though I can’t really understand a lot, I’m excited for the time set aside for this), help work at the youth hangout center, and help teach and tutor English and two different schools. Although it was great to be a part of the Diakonia family in Koseca, it’s even better to be involved with the whole community here! The people here have been so welcoming and sweet! I feel like I fit in well here and am already much happier than before! On my first night here the youth group presented me with a cake they made especially for me. On my first Sunday church service here, the children/youth choir prepared a song in English to sing for me! “O Be Careful”, and I got to sing along with them. I also got quite a warm greeting from my new host family: Starka (Grandma, Jan’s mother), Jan (dad), Jana (but she insists that everyone call her “mama”), Janka, and Katka. They have been so great and I’ve felt comfortable in their home from the very beginning. Starka, Jan, and Jana don’t speak any English, but the two daughters both speak some. They speak about the same amount of English as I do Slovak, so we have fun communicating in our created 50/50 language. They are determined to talk to me and always have a dictionary around.
Although I’ve only spent a short amount of time here so far, I’ve already been here for some pretty exciting events! On my second day here we went to my host mom’s sister’s 50th birthday bash, where I got to meet quite a few of their relatives and get in on all the family craziness! My host sister Katka added four new fish to her tank (for a total of 9), and we are in the process of choosing names for them together. She also has a snail in the tank, and when I asked her what its’ name was, she gasped and said, “I forgot, he doesn’t have a name! You get to name him!” And so I named him Fred (his full name is Fred Flintstone), and I think they liked my name! Also, their oven/stove broke down and we put in a new one (quite exciting), and their hot pot broke, so I went to the store with my host mom and helped her pick out another one. When you turn the new hot pot on, half of it glows blue and my host sisters turn out the lights and everybody gets really excited! It’s pretty funny! I thank God for the Turcanova family, they are wonderful!
Like before, I am helping teach English. This time around I will be working with younger students at the school here in Hybe (ages 11-15). So far I’ve had two days of teaching here (5 lessons per week) and they’ve gone pretty well. The teachers I’m working with (Zdenka and Sonja) are very organized and helpful, and I really appreciate co-teaching with them (as opposed to teaching alone, like I was before). I will also be helping at the neighboring village’s high school for boys, working with Zuzana. Zuzana lives in Hybe, is very active in our church, and my #1 contact person! She lived and worked in Canada for three years as a nanny, so her English is amazing. Her two sons, Radko and Marek, are very cute and have warmed up to me pretty quickly! Marek and I have already spent some quality time together, looking through his book and pointing out animals and colors to each other (he tells me their names in English, then I tell him their names in Slovak) and we help each other learn. She is fantastic, and I know she will be a great and supportive friend throughout my time here!
For the month of January, we were given these questions to consider: “Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” (1946) may have been seen by more Americans than any other film. As its title suggests, the film explores the very question: What would a “life that matters” look like? And perhaps more specifically “Are some lives more significant than others?” I immediately thought of a quote I have hanging on my bedroom wall here:
“No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of it for others.”
–Charles Dickens
I think that in the eyes of God, no lives matter more or less than others’. I believe that He loves all of us equally, and hopes that each of us fulfill our lives by spreading His love through our given gifts. I think a “life that matters” is a life that is spent with a true heart, loving others, and loving God. I hope to spread His love here and make real connections with our brothers and sisters in Slovakia! I will keep you updated on my experiences here in Hybe!
Thank you so much for all of your support!! To read more about my experiences, check out my blog online at:
www.ashleyrenslovak.blogspot.com
Friday, January 25, 2008
December Newsletter - Ashley in Slovakia
Life in Koseca
Ashley, Young Adult in Global Mission
December Newsletter
My Christmas celebrating started much earlier this year in Slovakia (which I was quite excited about, because I love Christmas time!) because they celebrate the coming of Mikulas. Mikulas is a lot like our Santa Claus, except he comes on December 6th instead of the 24th. The children leave their actual shoes on the window ledges and Mikulas comes and fills them with candy and sweets (and the presents come later on). Like our tradition of leaving milk and cookies for Santa Claus, the children here leave shots or small glasses of alcohol for Mikulas (because the very hospitable people of Slovakia usually give their guests some kind of alcohol, no matter what time of the day it is). On the night of December 24th, Jezisko comes (which translates into "Little Jesus") and brings gifts to everyone. I've tried to ask about this "Little Jesus" several times, because I find it kind of amusing (and we thought the U.S. had a tendency to mix commercialism with the true meaning of Christmas, haha! just kidding), but none of the Slovaks have really been able to explain it to me and usually end up smiling. They still consider the 25th of December Christmas day, but nothing really happens on this day. They mainly celebrate on the 24th.
So on the 6th of December, Mikulas came to Koseca and I got a LOT of candy and treats! To me it seemed like this day was almost more popular than actual Christmas time. Everyone I know gave me chocolate of some kind...boxes of chocolate, chocolate candy bars, and chocolate wrapped Christmas tree ornaments (which are common in tree decorating here). I also got received two Advent calendars with chocolate pieces in them. With everything combined, I think I had about a two month’s supply of chocolate. We had an Advent celebration every Sunday of December, which was meeting together to have prayers and sing traditional hymns before dinner started in the evening.
I love to decorate for Christmas (like my mom), and so she helped me out this year by sending Christmas in a box! I had a stocking in my window, a mini Christmas tree, mini gingerbread men and ornaments, green garland, red and silver garland, lights, and my favorite Christmas item from home (a little electronic bear that you plug lights into, and then the lights blink to the songs the bear plays). I also had a giant Santa Claus door poster on the door of my room. Everyone was entertained by my Christmas spirit, and impressed with my decorating skills! (Haha, ok probably not impressed, but I think they really enjoyed them too) And I also bought snowflake and angel window clings to put on my window, Zuza's window, the nurse's room window, and the Common Room window upstairs. I also tried to play what Christmas music I could find (old Nsync Christmas music, Trans-Siberian Orchestra stuff, and a new Slovak SuperStar Christmas tunes), so I was a Christmas spaz! I enjoyed it. :-)
I spent time with both of the teachers I work with at school (and their families) for the holidays too! I went to Mirka's house and made sugar cookies with her and her daughter Martina and son Oliver (13 and 15). It was my favorite cookie recipe from home, and fun to try to make over here! We had to substitute a few ingredients that can't be found here, but they still turned out good! We added chocolate syrup and nuts on the outsides, and had fun cutting the cookies and trying not to burn them! I also helped her son Oliver with his homework (thinking of Christmas words and phrases in English). I also joined them at Martina's dance club recital a few days before Christmas and it was pretty entertaining! Kids of all ages dancing, for hours and hours (Mirka's husband kept saying "I'm suffering..." and he was pretty funny). The day before Christmas Eve, I went to the Ceramic Club, which is a pottery class that Mirka's friend Sonja (who is blind and speaks only German and Slovak) holds every week. I went there in October for the first time and made (or at least attempted) a ceramic fish candle holder. When I came back for this Christmas party, I got to paint it and finish decorating it, with Christmas garland and berries and gold tinsel. It turned out nicely! I spent some time playing darts, pool, and foosball. I also finally got to meet Mirka's oldest daughter Romanka, who spent a year in the U.S. (in Oregon) as a foreign exchange student. I enjoy Mirka and her family very much, and was happy to be a part of their celebrating this year!
The high school I help teach at had a Christmas/end of the semester party. I went to the event not really knowing what to expect and found out that their "party" was sort of like a talent competition. Each class group had a chance to prepare some kind of skit, lip sync song & dance, or musical number. They competed against each other (all of the teachers were the judges) for the prize of one free day off from school! Not a bad prize :-) There was an interesting variety of things, everything from singing traditional Slovak Christmas carols, to playing scenes from the "Sister Act" movies, to imitating the Spice Girls and characters from Baywatch. I'm not really sure if Baywatch or the Spice Girls are very "Christmasy," but it was entertaining anyway. I got to put in a vote for the winner, and they made Mirka and I go up onto the stage and announce the winner! I think the students liked me more after I told them that they could have a free day off from school! Through the school I was also invited to the staff banquet. It turned out to be quite nice, and at a fancier restaurant, and the food was fantastic! I really enjoyed working with the teachers from Obchodna Akademia, even though I couldn't speak to most of them. I was taking Slovak language lessons from one of the lower-level English teachers, and she was enthusiastic about baking me Slovak Christmas cookies. She gave me a LARGE bag full, very sweet.
I also spent some time before Christmas with my friend Beata (the other English teacher I work with) and her family. Beata enjoys Christmas, but doesn't really care about decorating...SO I volunteered to decorate her Christmas tree for her and she agreed! I spent the evening decorating their tree with her older son Stanko (age 7), and we also decorated his little tree in the boys' room. Her younger son Marek (age 3) came back the next morning and we had tea and chocolate cakes together. I also spent time at Beata's sister's house. Edita and her family have also been really sweet and welcoming, so I was happy to celebrate with them too. I got in a little food preparation for their Christmas dinner, and of course we had a few glasses of plum brandy (Slivovica, traditional Slovak drink). We also watched "Home Alone" dubbed in Slovak, and I helped her two younger kids give the family dog (Roni) a bath. Not the first thing I imaginaed myself doing in Slovakia on Christmas, but it turned out to be pretty fun!
I spent Christmas Eve at the center with the residents and nurses. We had a special Christmas Eve service in the center before dinner. The chapel room was decorated with a big tree, loaded with gold tinsel. There was also a big nativity scene at the front, along with lit wooden window hangings in each window. Very pretty, and we sang "Silent Night" in Slovak! I sang part in English for tradition's sake, and attempted the rest in Slovak. After church we had a big dinner together. Almost all of the residents came down to the dining room to be together, even the ones who usually choose to stay in their rooms for meals. It is Slovak tradition to have fish for their Christmas meal, because they aren't supposed to eat meat at all on Christmas day. We also had special waffles with honey (not like ours, but crispy, thin and stiff with cream in the middle. We had warm grape juice and there were baskets of fruit everywhere! Potato salad (pretty similar to ours) is also a traditional Christmas food here. After dinner I said goodnight to the residents and went to visit a few of my favorites and spend some time with them. I visited the room of two sisters, Emilia and Judita, and they offered me many treats and cakes as I tried to have another Slovak conversation with them. These two are amazing, and I enjoyed spending time with them and hearing about their family. They asked if I liked the Christmas service earlier that night and I told them I did. Then Judita just randomly started singing "Silent Night" in Slovak, and Emilia joined in. It was really amazing, and I eventually joined in and sang along with them in English. I think this was my favorite thing I did this Christmas!
I eventually hung out with Zuza at the end of the night. We exchanged gifts we watched fairy tales (one similar to Cinderella that's really famous in Slovakia). Watching Christmas movies (either American or Czech usually), Slovak or Czech fairytales, and other random movies (Finding Nemo is popular for Christmas time) is a big Christmas tradition here. I didn't even realize how many different ways I celebrated Christmas this year until I started writing these blogs...all in all it was a pretty wonderful and unique holiday season!!
For our December newsletter, we were supposed to ask ourselves, “Where is God in the midst of the particularities of our communities?“ During Christmas time, a time of preparing, waiting, and hoping, I see God in the special energy of this holiday. Christmas is an exciting time of year, no matter who you are or what culture you’re from, and Slovakia is no exception. I see God in the happiness of Christmas decorating, the fellowship of the special Advent services, the children’s smiles from Mikulas chocolates, the readiness to watch Slovak fairytales, and the happiness in spending time with friends and family. I had a wonderful holiday season here, and I send you belated wishes for the same: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!! Vesely Vianoce a Stastny Novy Rok!
God Bless,
Ashley
Thank you so much for all of your support!! To read more about my experiences, check out my blog online at:
www.ashleyrenslovak.blogspot.com
Ashley, Young Adult in Global Mission
December Newsletter
My Christmas celebrating started much earlier this year in Slovakia (which I was quite excited about, because I love Christmas time!) because they celebrate the coming of Mikulas. Mikulas is a lot like our Santa Claus, except he comes on December 6th instead of the 24th. The children leave their actual shoes on the window ledges and Mikulas comes and fills them with candy and sweets (and the presents come later on). Like our tradition of leaving milk and cookies for Santa Claus, the children here leave shots or small glasses of alcohol for Mikulas (because the very hospitable people of Slovakia usually give their guests some kind of alcohol, no matter what time of the day it is). On the night of December 24th, Jezisko comes (which translates into "Little Jesus") and brings gifts to everyone. I've tried to ask about this "Little Jesus" several times, because I find it kind of amusing (and we thought the U.S. had a tendency to mix commercialism with the true meaning of Christmas, haha! just kidding), but none of the Slovaks have really been able to explain it to me and usually end up smiling. They still consider the 25th of December Christmas day, but nothing really happens on this day. They mainly celebrate on the 24th.
So on the 6th of December, Mikulas came to Koseca and I got a LOT of candy and treats! To me it seemed like this day was almost more popular than actual Christmas time. Everyone I know gave me chocolate of some kind...boxes of chocolate, chocolate candy bars, and chocolate wrapped Christmas tree ornaments (which are common in tree decorating here). I also got received two Advent calendars with chocolate pieces in them. With everything combined, I think I had about a two month’s supply of chocolate. We had an Advent celebration every Sunday of December, which was meeting together to have prayers and sing traditional hymns before dinner started in the evening.
I love to decorate for Christmas (like my mom), and so she helped me out this year by sending Christmas in a box! I had a stocking in my window, a mini Christmas tree, mini gingerbread men and ornaments, green garland, red and silver garland, lights, and my favorite Christmas item from home (a little electronic bear that you plug lights into, and then the lights blink to the songs the bear plays). I also had a giant Santa Claus door poster on the door of my room. Everyone was entertained by my Christmas spirit, and impressed with my decorating skills! (Haha, ok probably not impressed, but I think they really enjoyed them too) And I also bought snowflake and angel window clings to put on my window, Zuza's window, the nurse's room window, and the Common Room window upstairs. I also tried to play what Christmas music I could find (old Nsync Christmas music, Trans-Siberian Orchestra stuff, and a new Slovak SuperStar Christmas tunes), so I was a Christmas spaz! I enjoyed it. :-)
I spent time with both of the teachers I work with at school (and their families) for the holidays too! I went to Mirka's house and made sugar cookies with her and her daughter Martina and son Oliver (13 and 15). It was my favorite cookie recipe from home, and fun to try to make over here! We had to substitute a few ingredients that can't be found here, but they still turned out good! We added chocolate syrup and nuts on the outsides, and had fun cutting the cookies and trying not to burn them! I also helped her son Oliver with his homework (thinking of Christmas words and phrases in English). I also joined them at Martina's dance club recital a few days before Christmas and it was pretty entertaining! Kids of all ages dancing, for hours and hours (Mirka's husband kept saying "I'm suffering..." and he was pretty funny). The day before Christmas Eve, I went to the Ceramic Club, which is a pottery class that Mirka's friend Sonja (who is blind and speaks only German and Slovak) holds every week. I went there in October for the first time and made (or at least attempted) a ceramic fish candle holder. When I came back for this Christmas party, I got to paint it and finish decorating it, with Christmas garland and berries and gold tinsel. It turned out nicely! I spent some time playing darts, pool, and foosball. I also finally got to meet Mirka's oldest daughter Romanka, who spent a year in the U.S. (in Oregon) as a foreign exchange student. I enjoy Mirka and her family very much, and was happy to be a part of their celebrating this year!
The high school I help teach at had a Christmas/end of the semester party. I went to the event not really knowing what to expect and found out that their "party" was sort of like a talent competition. Each class group had a chance to prepare some kind of skit, lip sync song & dance, or musical number. They competed against each other (all of the teachers were the judges) for the prize of one free day off from school! Not a bad prize :-) There was an interesting variety of things, everything from singing traditional Slovak Christmas carols, to playing scenes from the "Sister Act" movies, to imitating the Spice Girls and characters from Baywatch. I'm not really sure if Baywatch or the Spice Girls are very "Christmasy," but it was entertaining anyway. I got to put in a vote for the winner, and they made Mirka and I go up onto the stage and announce the winner! I think the students liked me more after I told them that they could have a free day off from school! Through the school I was also invited to the staff banquet. It turned out to be quite nice, and at a fancier restaurant, and the food was fantastic! I really enjoyed working with the teachers from Obchodna Akademia, even though I couldn't speak to most of them. I was taking Slovak language lessons from one of the lower-level English teachers, and she was enthusiastic about baking me Slovak Christmas cookies. She gave me a LARGE bag full, very sweet.
I also spent some time before Christmas with my friend Beata (the other English teacher I work with) and her family. Beata enjoys Christmas, but doesn't really care about decorating...SO I volunteered to decorate her Christmas tree for her and she agreed! I spent the evening decorating their tree with her older son Stanko (age 7), and we also decorated his little tree in the boys' room. Her younger son Marek (age 3) came back the next morning and we had tea and chocolate cakes together. I also spent time at Beata's sister's house. Edita and her family have also been really sweet and welcoming, so I was happy to celebrate with them too. I got in a little food preparation for their Christmas dinner, and of course we had a few glasses of plum brandy (Slivovica, traditional Slovak drink). We also watched "Home Alone" dubbed in Slovak, and I helped her two younger kids give the family dog (Roni) a bath. Not the first thing I imaginaed myself doing in Slovakia on Christmas, but it turned out to be pretty fun!
I spent Christmas Eve at the center with the residents and nurses. We had a special Christmas Eve service in the center before dinner. The chapel room was decorated with a big tree, loaded with gold tinsel. There was also a big nativity scene at the front, along with lit wooden window hangings in each window. Very pretty, and we sang "Silent Night" in Slovak! I sang part in English for tradition's sake, and attempted the rest in Slovak. After church we had a big dinner together. Almost all of the residents came down to the dining room to be together, even the ones who usually choose to stay in their rooms for meals. It is Slovak tradition to have fish for their Christmas meal, because they aren't supposed to eat meat at all on Christmas day. We also had special waffles with honey (not like ours, but crispy, thin and stiff with cream in the middle. We had warm grape juice and there were baskets of fruit everywhere! Potato salad (pretty similar to ours) is also a traditional Christmas food here. After dinner I said goodnight to the residents and went to visit a few of my favorites and spend some time with them. I visited the room of two sisters, Emilia and Judita, and they offered me many treats and cakes as I tried to have another Slovak conversation with them. These two are amazing, and I enjoyed spending time with them and hearing about their family. They asked if I liked the Christmas service earlier that night and I told them I did. Then Judita just randomly started singing "Silent Night" in Slovak, and Emilia joined in. It was really amazing, and I eventually joined in and sang along with them in English. I think this was my favorite thing I did this Christmas!
I eventually hung out with Zuza at the end of the night. We exchanged gifts we watched fairy tales (one similar to Cinderella that's really famous in Slovakia). Watching Christmas movies (either American or Czech usually), Slovak or Czech fairytales, and other random movies (Finding Nemo is popular for Christmas time) is a big Christmas tradition here. I didn't even realize how many different ways I celebrated Christmas this year until I started writing these blogs...all in all it was a pretty wonderful and unique holiday season!!
For our December newsletter, we were supposed to ask ourselves, “Where is God in the midst of the particularities of our communities?“ During Christmas time, a time of preparing, waiting, and hoping, I see God in the special energy of this holiday. Christmas is an exciting time of year, no matter who you are or what culture you’re from, and Slovakia is no exception. I see God in the happiness of Christmas decorating, the fellowship of the special Advent services, the children’s smiles from Mikulas chocolates, the readiness to watch Slovak fairytales, and the happiness in spending time with friends and family. I had a wonderful holiday season here, and I send you belated wishes for the same: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!! Vesely Vianoce a Stastny Novy Rok!
God Bless,
Ashley
Thank you so much for all of your support!! To read more about my experiences, check out my blog online at:
www.ashleyrenslovak.blogspot.com
November Newsletter - Ashley in Slovakia
Life in Koseca
Ashley, Young Adult in Global Mission
November Newsletter
Hello everybody! My apologies for being slow on my newsletters, and I’m looking forward to updating you all on things! I will let my tardiness tell you that I am becoming busier and meeting more people as time passes here in Koseca, so things are getting more exciting with each passing week! I hope this letter finds all of you well, enjoying Thanksgiving and the beginning of the holiday season!
November was an exciting month for me: the celebration of Thanksgiving and my birthday, as well as the beginning of the holiday season. I spent part of my birthday at the center, playing THIRTEEN games of my favorite board game with a bunch of my favorite old ladies, while watching “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” dubbed over in Slovak! I went out for pizza with Beata, which was great! I also celebrated with my friend Juraj and his family. They gave me “My First Slovak Picture Book” to help me learn more words in Slovak, and they also made me dinner and a cake! I was a bit disappointed that I hadn’t gotten to blow out birthday candles until this point, but his family baked me a very nice banana chocolate cake with a big 23 candle on top! Very nice, and tasty!
At the end of November, we had our first volunteer retreat in Bratislava and it was fantastic! My Thanksgiving was both unique and traditional this year, and I enjoyed the experiences of both. Our group was invited for Thanksgiving dinner in the city, and so we joined other American volunteers that are also serving in Slovakia or other parts of Europe. We all came together, each bringing different dishes, to create a giant Thanksgiving dinner! Even though I spent the holiday in a country that doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, I was still able to have turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pie, and much more! The highlight of the meal for me was the pumpkin pie, delicious! In addition to our Thanksgiving dinner celebration, we (my fellow volunteers and I) celebrated the holiday by taking a day trip to Vienna, Austria together. We had a great time wandering around the city, getting lost, spending a few hours in a GIANT cemetery trying to find the graves of dead musicians and composers (and we were never successful, but had a fun time), attempting to sightsee, and talking a LOT. It was so nice to spend time with them, swapping stories and experiences. I feel very comforted to have them all in Slovakia with me, going through similar experiences, and being able to relate to me. For them, I am very thankful.
For November’s newsletter, we were given these questions to ponder over: “Where is God in our world? Where is God in the midst of the contexts we live and experience: in the midst of suffering, injustice, hunger, poverty, war, effects of colonization, sexism, racism, death, illness, aging? Is God still speaking? And how?”
I want to share a few quotes I’ve run across in the 365 Day Brighteners book I got from my Aunt Jan:
“Only God can make sense out of senseless tragedies (Isaiah 55:8-9).” –Janette Oke
“God possesses infinite knowledge and an awareness which is uniquely His. At all times, even in the midst of any type of suffering, I can realize that He knows, loves, watches, understands, and more than that, He has a purpose.” –Billy Graham
I think of one of my good friends in Slovakia. She has had health problems all of her life with diabetes, and had to deal with a physical disability that has left her unable to work, have children, and basically just live life. Instead of having a supportive family to help her, she has two deceased parents, four siblings that won’t help her and want nothing to do with her, and one sibling who checks in on her only a few times a year. Because her family doesn’t support her and she has nowhere to go, she is now living in a nursing home, at the age of 38. Where is God in her life?
I now teach English in a high school near Koseca, and I have a class of ten English learners in my room. They don’t understand much English because their first learned language is German (which they’ve been learning since they were 11 years old). One day Beata helped me with my class, and afterwards said to me, “I told them that they should try harder to learn more English. I told them that their German is useless these days, and if they want a decent job or to go anywhere, they need to learn English.” They grow up learning three languages because their home country is so small and insignificant in the world’s eyes that they will have almost no opportunity if they stay here in Slovakia. And so they learn, and attempt to move to English speaking countries to learn the language and find better opportunities. I felt terrible that she’d said this to them, but she said they just nodded their heads in agreement. It makes me think of my own experiences learning a language in high school, and growing up in a society where all I heard was, “Why should WE have to learn Spanish? All those Mexicans are coming here, so THEY should be the ones to have to learn our language.” Why does God allow the world to be the way it is? It leaves me wondering, “Where is the justice?”
This is definitely a difficult question, but an important one to think about as a Christian. How could God let bad things happen? Whether it’s the smaller injustices or tragedies. We are taught from a very young age that God is merciful and that we are safe in His arms if we believe. But eventually a time comes in all of our lives where we ask ourselves this question: Why? I’ve often wondered but have no great answer, except that God is with us through the good times in our lives AND the bad. When He created man, He gave us so many abilities and free will. I think that when He gave us free will, He gave us the responsibility to take care of each other, ourselves, and our world. The reality is that we are all human and all make err, and “the bad things” happen as a result. I believe that God is always watching and is with us no matter what happens, despite the sadness He feels in our mistakes. He is loyal, forgiving, and forever.
Lastly, I would like to recommend a poem to all of you: “Dreaming Upside Down” by Tom Peterson, editor of Seeds. I think it’s very attention grabbing and gives us a necessary perspective on injustice in the world.
Thanks for reading! Until next time,
-Ashley
Thank you so much for all of your support!! To read more about my experiences, check out my blog online at:
www.ashleyrenslovak.blogspot.com
Ashley, Young Adult in Global Mission
November Newsletter
Hello everybody! My apologies for being slow on my newsletters, and I’m looking forward to updating you all on things! I will let my tardiness tell you that I am becoming busier and meeting more people as time passes here in Koseca, so things are getting more exciting with each passing week! I hope this letter finds all of you well, enjoying Thanksgiving and the beginning of the holiday season!
November was an exciting month for me: the celebration of Thanksgiving and my birthday, as well as the beginning of the holiday season. I spent part of my birthday at the center, playing THIRTEEN games of my favorite board game with a bunch of my favorite old ladies, while watching “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” dubbed over in Slovak! I went out for pizza with Beata, which was great! I also celebrated with my friend Juraj and his family. They gave me “My First Slovak Picture Book” to help me learn more words in Slovak, and they also made me dinner and a cake! I was a bit disappointed that I hadn’t gotten to blow out birthday candles until this point, but his family baked me a very nice banana chocolate cake with a big 23 candle on top! Very nice, and tasty!
At the end of November, we had our first volunteer retreat in Bratislava and it was fantastic! My Thanksgiving was both unique and traditional this year, and I enjoyed the experiences of both. Our group was invited for Thanksgiving dinner in the city, and so we joined other American volunteers that are also serving in Slovakia or other parts of Europe. We all came together, each bringing different dishes, to create a giant Thanksgiving dinner! Even though I spent the holiday in a country that doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving, I was still able to have turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, pie, and much more! The highlight of the meal for me was the pumpkin pie, delicious! In addition to our Thanksgiving dinner celebration, we (my fellow volunteers and I) celebrated the holiday by taking a day trip to Vienna, Austria together. We had a great time wandering around the city, getting lost, spending a few hours in a GIANT cemetery trying to find the graves of dead musicians and composers (and we were never successful, but had a fun time), attempting to sightsee, and talking a LOT. It was so nice to spend time with them, swapping stories and experiences. I feel very comforted to have them all in Slovakia with me, going through similar experiences, and being able to relate to me. For them, I am very thankful.
For November’s newsletter, we were given these questions to ponder over: “Where is God in our world? Where is God in the midst of the contexts we live and experience: in the midst of suffering, injustice, hunger, poverty, war, effects of colonization, sexism, racism, death, illness, aging? Is God still speaking? And how?”
I want to share a few quotes I’ve run across in the 365 Day Brighteners book I got from my Aunt Jan:
“Only God can make sense out of senseless tragedies (Isaiah 55:8-9).” –Janette Oke
“God possesses infinite knowledge and an awareness which is uniquely His. At all times, even in the midst of any type of suffering, I can realize that He knows, loves, watches, understands, and more than that, He has a purpose.” –Billy Graham
I think of one of my good friends in Slovakia. She has had health problems all of her life with diabetes, and had to deal with a physical disability that has left her unable to work, have children, and basically just live life. Instead of having a supportive family to help her, she has two deceased parents, four siblings that won’t help her and want nothing to do with her, and one sibling who checks in on her only a few times a year. Because her family doesn’t support her and she has nowhere to go, she is now living in a nursing home, at the age of 38. Where is God in her life?
I now teach English in a high school near Koseca, and I have a class of ten English learners in my room. They don’t understand much English because their first learned language is German (which they’ve been learning since they were 11 years old). One day Beata helped me with my class, and afterwards said to me, “I told them that they should try harder to learn more English. I told them that their German is useless these days, and if they want a decent job or to go anywhere, they need to learn English.” They grow up learning three languages because their home country is so small and insignificant in the world’s eyes that they will have almost no opportunity if they stay here in Slovakia. And so they learn, and attempt to move to English speaking countries to learn the language and find better opportunities. I felt terrible that she’d said this to them, but she said they just nodded their heads in agreement. It makes me think of my own experiences learning a language in high school, and growing up in a society where all I heard was, “Why should WE have to learn Spanish? All those Mexicans are coming here, so THEY should be the ones to have to learn our language.” Why does God allow the world to be the way it is? It leaves me wondering, “Where is the justice?”
This is definitely a difficult question, but an important one to think about as a Christian. How could God let bad things happen? Whether it’s the smaller injustices or tragedies. We are taught from a very young age that God is merciful and that we are safe in His arms if we believe. But eventually a time comes in all of our lives where we ask ourselves this question: Why? I’ve often wondered but have no great answer, except that God is with us through the good times in our lives AND the bad. When He created man, He gave us so many abilities and free will. I think that when He gave us free will, He gave us the responsibility to take care of each other, ourselves, and our world. The reality is that we are all human and all make err, and “the bad things” happen as a result. I believe that God is always watching and is with us no matter what happens, despite the sadness He feels in our mistakes. He is loyal, forgiving, and forever.
Lastly, I would like to recommend a poem to all of you: “Dreaming Upside Down” by Tom Peterson, editor of Seeds. I think it’s very attention grabbing and gives us a necessary perspective on injustice in the world.
Thanks for reading! Until next time,
-Ashley
Thank you so much for all of your support!! To read more about my experiences, check out my blog online at:
www.ashleyrenslovak.blogspot.com
Thursday, January 24, 2008
January Newsletter - KD in Uruguay
KD’s Uruguayan Adventures
January 2008 Issue
It’s A Small World After All
Celebrations and holidays in other cultures are something you can read about in books or see on the Discovery Channel, but little compares to being physically present for them. There is nothing like putting your head on your pillow on December 24th at 11:59pm and realizing that Uruguayans break in Christmas Day with fireworks more numberous than the 4th of July. To fully understand it, you have to experience it!
On the flipside, there are many universal staples when it comes to celebrating. There is almost always food, many times there is music and, most importantly, celebrating is done in company! I encountered such similarities between my traditions in the States and the celebrations of Christmas and the New Year in Uruguay. It was a blessing to be able to experience traditions of another culture and to understand that it really is a small world. Between cultures, we’re not all that different from each other.
Cultural Corner
Get to know Uruguay
Nuestros domingos/Our Sundays
Sundays have always been a day of familiar routine for me: going to church, hanging out for fellowship after the service and going home for a family meal and some Sunday afternoon football. My life in Uruguay is different in many ways, but I have been very fortunate to have a near-identical Sunday routine in these past five months. Carla, Carlos and their daughter, Alejandra, is a family from the Lutheran congregation who have taken it upon them to make family lunches on Sunday a weekly routine, during which we have been able to grow in our relationships. These lunches have been blessings that will stay with me for a lifetime.
Son de Fierro – my guilty pleasure
Watching television and listening to the radio are great ways to work on language, but I never thought I would be enhancing my Spanish this year with an Argentine soap opera. When we’re not otherwise occupied, Dorothea, my German roommate, and I have a 9:15pm that we work hard not to miss; I don’t know how it happened, but we’ve been sucked in. Son de Fierro is comparable to any other soap (love, hate and plenty of drama) so it is hardly educational, but if it serves for nothing else I have learned lots of new vocabulary and I am just that much more Uruguayan.
January 2008 Issue
It’s A Small World After All
Celebrations and holidays in other cultures are something you can read about in books or see on the Discovery Channel, but little compares to being physically present for them. There is nothing like putting your head on your pillow on December 24th at 11:59pm and realizing that Uruguayans break in Christmas Day with fireworks more numberous than the 4th of July. To fully understand it, you have to experience it!
On the flipside, there are many universal staples when it comes to celebrating. There is almost always food, many times there is music and, most importantly, celebrating is done in company! I encountered such similarities between my traditions in the States and the celebrations of Christmas and the New Year in Uruguay. It was a blessing to be able to experience traditions of another culture and to understand that it really is a small world. Between cultures, we’re not all that different from each other.
Cultural Corner
Get to know Uruguay
Nuestros domingos/Our Sundays
Sundays have always been a day of familiar routine for me: going to church, hanging out for fellowship after the service and going home for a family meal and some Sunday afternoon football. My life in Uruguay is different in many ways, but I have been very fortunate to have a near-identical Sunday routine in these past five months. Carla, Carlos and their daughter, Alejandra, is a family from the Lutheran congregation who have taken it upon them to make family lunches on Sunday a weekly routine, during which we have been able to grow in our relationships. These lunches have been blessings that will stay with me for a lifetime.
Son de Fierro – my guilty pleasure
Watching television and listening to the radio are great ways to work on language, but I never thought I would be enhancing my Spanish this year with an Argentine soap opera. When we’re not otherwise occupied, Dorothea, my German roommate, and I have a 9:15pm that we work hard not to miss; I don’t know how it happened, but we’ve been sucked in. Son de Fierro is comparable to any other soap (love, hate and plenty of drama) so it is hardly educational, but if it serves for nothing else I have learned lots of new vocabulary and I am just that much more Uruguayan.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
December yes i know its super late... - Kristina in Argentina
December, Oh my gosh! First of all I am sorry that this is arriving half way through January but I‘ve been moving and have only recently been able to stop. Not that I haven’t stopped along the way. On the contrary I’ve stopped many times to look up from my feet and take a moment to realize where I am so that I can see where I need to continue. You see when walking on unstable ground I can’t help but look down, if there isn’t someone ahead of me I can follow, who can manage the path looking ahead then I need to stop every so often and make sure I am still going the right way. Those of you who have known me long enough know that even when walking on level ground I need a little help keeping my balance which means that sometimes I need to grab hold. As I make new friends and meet new people I have come to value even more those who know me well enough to let me hold on to them when I need to. It makes me wonder: who holds on to me? During this month of December two things have come to mind one is advent preparation getting ready, the second has been that verse in the bible I don’t remember where it is exactly but it talks about Jesus sending out the disciples to different towns and if you weren’t taken in then it was time to move on shaking the dust off your feet behind you.
Let me open my little box of memories so I can share the more important parts of this month with you.
December 2nd My birthday: The celebration started on the first and during the day I tried to make a Tres Leches cake but messed up making the topping. (It came out way too thick) On this day for the first time the home sickness hit me for real which meant that I spent a large part of the day in tears. My friends who live with me and their friends came together to help me finish my cake by refusing to let me quit half way and go to sleep. Don’t get me wrong I was happy it was my birthday after all but for the first time I really felt the absence.
(I’d also like to point out that my birthday was celebrated in traditional argentine style where you get three wishes instead of one, starting midnight the day before ending midnight the day of eating and being visited by those who know me.)
The exodus Being that December is the end of the year instead of the middle everyone prepared to go home for summer vacation and Christmas. My fellow house mates were restless and ready to be with their families, so one by one I said goodbye for the summer. Until there was only Gonzalo and I left in the house.
Carribean Christmas cards: The kids at La Casita also prepared for Christmas studying for final exams and making Christmas cards and decorations. Since Christmas falls during the summer I brought in bright colors like hot pink, turquoise, goldenrod, neon green and we made cut out cards with trees mangers and stars finishing them off with glitter in similar colors.
Martha came to visit so that I could help her finish or improve on a poem/letter she had written. I read it aloud to get a feel of it and there was nothing that needed to be fixed or added. “ When you read it out loud like that I can’t help feel like the words aren’t mine its like someone else wrote them some one better…” “But they are your words I’ve only read them out loud the way I know how to.” I don’t think I really understood how she felt until I gave a song I wrote to Fede one of the guys I live with and he put music to it. The song came to life at a piano when until I put it in his hands my words and he gave voice to the music in my heart. Sometimes it seems that it is necessary to trust that even though we might not think what we have to offer is any good, still by letting go someone else might see it for what it really is… Beautiful
And now, for my Christmas Story…
While the house was busy with people getting ready for exams and travel home at the church we were getting ready for “El taller de navidad” Christmas workshop that leads in to preparing for Christmas service and play. We were also preparing for the annual summer camp and we were getting ready for the arrival of a group of youth from the Pennsylvania companion synod.
For el taller de Navidad I remembered a Christmas play that we had done in my church when I was younger. Pastor Andrea loved it but because it was so short we decided to morph it with another play her mother had found. The main idea was the Christ story but as viewed by angles in heaven. After the play we gathered for lunch as a community but at 3:30 Andrea, Gonzalo and I were heading for the bus terminal to catch our ride to Misiones. Our bus left at 4:30pm on the 23rd and arrived at 7:00am on the 24th. Some where along the way about three hours before reaching our destination Gonzalo got off at Posadas his home town while we went off to Eldorado. This is where the adventure starts I guess because we were staying at the home of Pastor Pare, His wife Raquel and daughters Keyla and Vania. We accompanied them that evening to the Christmas Eve service which I found out later was unusual since they normally just have the Christmas day service instead. That night the moon was full and shone as brightly as it could still its beams made it only so far as rain clouds quickly came in to the scene. Big fat drops fell from the sky and the once smooth dirt road became soaping and slippery. Lightning broke through the landscape from time to time lighting the way. In the back seat we all held on as the convi started to glide from side to side like a car on a snow filled street!
I trusted that Pastor Pare could see more than I could of the way through his wiped down window. I trusted that he could look up when all I could do was look down at my feet but things have a funny way of fixing themselves. Suddenly the convi stopped with a jerk and we were all stuck trying to look out into the darkness. We sat there for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do next. The rain showed no signs of stopping any time soon and the wheels weren’t touching ground firm enough for us to move forward or backward. Then a light went on, someone was at the church. Pastor Pare got out wrapped up in a parka and went for help. We didn’t have long to wait before he was back and we were told that we needed to walk to the church while others came to get the convi unstuck. Now the earth in Missiones is famous for being very red and for staining and never really coming out of your cloths. When I jumped out of the convi I learned quickly that it also turned very thick and slippery when wet. Slowly but surely we climbed what remained of the hill carrying Vania and Keyla as we went. Until about half way in my shoes got stuck in the mud. Someone from the church came down the hill and picked up the girls and we had no other choice than to take off our shoes and continue bare foot. In spite of the chilly rain it was actually pretty nice to walk in the mud if you get the chance try it.
This time there wasn’t anybody in front of me to guide the way, it was too slippery if I were to go down in the mud I’d probably take out the person helping me so instead I had to trust in the light that shown from the church to find my way.
When I reached the steps of the temple I looked up and in at the large Christmas tree a local pine with a spiny trunk. My feet, my hands, my bag was all covered in mud as I stood soggy and terracotta in the doorstep. The church I was told had no running water, so we waited for the buckets to be filled with what I’m guessing is rain water to wash our selves off. My shoes to this day are still encrusted with mud and I’m not sure it will ever wash off but often isn’t that how it is in life. The wind carries us to unexpected places where we push ourselves to cross the finish line. We enter a home and are welcomed and a blessing falls over us all so that as we leave said place the dust from the trail becomes a part of our story a stain on our hearts that will never really wash out.
So for the Christmas service I washed the mud off my feet but they remained orange the nativity scene continued and my shoes remained at the entrance of the temple.
Afterwards we visited a family for dinner and Jesus’ birthday was celebrated in much the same way as mine. Midnight came about and we all raised our glasses in a toast kissing each other on the cheek and wishing each other a merry Christmas. That, friends is how I spent my Christmas eve.
Christmas day and the 26th I visited two more churches and participated in 3 more services making it 5 services total. Phew!
On the 28th a whole new set of adventures began with the arrival of my friend and fellow Volunteer James. We spent a large part of the day cleaning, moving beds and mattresses and making lunch when the much awaited group from Pennsylvania arrived my cloths were a mess but there was no time to change. So their story began and it’s an important one to share but you’ll have to wait a couple days because this has already turned long and their story is better left for January.
Until then…
________________________________________________________________
Diciembre, Dios mio! Antes que nada perdonen que esto les este llegando a mitad de enero pero me he encontrado en un estado de inercia y solamente he podido parar recién. No es decir que en el camino no he parado al contrario he tenido que parar varias veces en el camino, tomando un momento para levantar la mirada de mis pies al camino para poder saber hacia donde debo continuar. Tengo la tendencia de que cuando camino sobre terreno inestable no puedo mirar hacia arriba mi concentración va directamente hacia mis pies. Si no hay alguien enfrente mío que maneja el camino viendo hacia donde va que yo pueda seguir entonces me veo obligada a parar cada tanto para fijarme en el camino. Ustedes que me conocen un poco más saben que hasta cuando camino por terreno estable necesito un poco de ayuda para mantener mi balance. Esto significa o mas bien explica porque de vez en cuando los he tomado por el brazo al caminar.
( Si y aquí pueden hacer todos los chistes que quieran sobre no poder caminar y mirar, masticar chicle , hablar aplaudir etc al mismo tiempo jaja)
Estando en un lugar nuevo he tenido que llegar a un punto de confianza en donde pueda tomar de brazo a alguien sin que se sienta incomodo, este proceso me ha llevado a valorizar aun mas las amistades en donde pueda apoyarme al andar cuando sea necesario. Esto me llevar a pensar, ¿Quiénes son los que se apoyan en mi? Durante este mes de diciembre ha habido dos enfoques principales en mi vida el primero fue el adviento, la preparación en la espera de la llegada, el segundo ha sido un verso en la Biblia el cual no ubico en la memoria su localidad pero se que trata de lo siguiente:
Habla sobre cuando Jesús envía a sus discípulos a predicar el evangelio en diferentes pueblos. Les indica que si los reciben bien en su casa es como si lo recibieran a el y caerá una bendición en aquel hogar sin embargo si no te reciben esta bien también sigue tu camino y al partir de aquel lugar sacude tus pies y deja atrás el polvo de aquel camino.
Bueno déjame abrir mi cajita de memoria colectiva para compartir algunos de estos momentos con ustedes.
El 2 de diciembre Mi Cumpleaño: El comienzo de esta celebración comenzó el 1ero de diciembre un día en el cual me di a la tarea de hacer un bizcocho de tres leches pero la los tres leches terminaron siendo mas como la tres pasta. Me había salido muy espeso la leche y ante mi fracaso sentí por primera vez la verdadera ausencia de los míos. Es mas sin querer pase una mayor parte del día llorando. En ese momento mis amigos y amigas que viven conmigo y sus amistades que me estaban visitando en esa tarde se reunieron para ayudarme a terminar y rescatar a mi biscocho. No iban permitir que yo me rindiera a mitad de camino para irme a dormir a mi pieza al contrario. No me mal entiendan mi cumpleaños lo pase muy bien y no es que estaba triste si no que mas bien caí en cuenta de la ausencia de los que mas quiero.
(También quiero señalar que mi cumple se celebro como el de cualquier Argentino empezando a la medianoche del día anterior terminando a la media noche del mismo día. Acá se piden 3 deseos en vez de 1 y a través del día compartir y comí con todos los que me venían a saludar para mi cumpleaños.)
El Éxodo Diciembre acá se ve más bien como el fin del año y no como la mitad. Todos ya están listos para irse a sus casas luego de un año largo escolar. Están listos y hasta un poco ansiosos por comenzar sus vacaciones de verano y estar con sus familias para la navidad. Por lo tanto poco a poco se fueron hiendo del hogar hasta que solamente quedamos a partir del 21 de diciembre Gonzalo y yo.
Tarjetas de navidad a lo caribeño: Los niños en la Casita también se preparaban para el fin del año estudiando para exámenes finales y preparando manualidades para la navidad. Como acá la navidad sucede en el verano pensé que para las tarjetas que les iba mandar a hacer podíamos usar colores brillantes como el turquesa, fucsia, mostaza, verde neon, y el violeta oscuro. A las tarjetas le cortamos siluetas de arbolitos de navidad, estrellas de Belén y para los mas grandes hasta pesebres dándoles un toque final con escarcha de colores igualmente brillante.
Vino Marta a visitarme para que yo le ayudara terminar o mejorar un poema que había escrito. Solo basto con que lo leyera en voz alta no era necesario cambiarle nada. “Cuando lo lees en voz alta me siento como si no fuese algo que yo escribí, se escucha como algo lindo…” “Pero si lo escribiste estas son tus palabras simplemente las he leído en voz alta.” No creo que entendí bien el sentimiento de Marta hasta que le entregue la canción que recién escribí a Fede uno de los chicos del hogar. La canción nació de nuevo en el piano cuando a las palabras de mi corazón se le puso música. Aprendí que a veces es necesario confiar que a pesar de que no pensemos que lo que tenemos para ofrecer sea algo que valga la pena, aun así compartiéndolo existe la posibilidad de que alguien más lo pueda ver lo que es en verdad… Algo Hermoso
Y ahora les cuento la historia de mi navidad…
Mientras los del Hogar se preparaban para exámenes y para viajar los de la iglesia nos preparábamos para el taller de navidad que viene siendo como un campamento que dan las iglesias en donde se preparan las cosas para el servicio de navidad, por ejemplo la obra o el pesebre viviente etc. Al mismo tiempo nos preparábamos para el campamento de verano que se da la primera semana de enero y para la llegada de un grupo de jóvenes del sínodo compañero de Pennsylvania.
Para el taller de Navidad me recordaba de una obra que habíamos hecho en Buen Pastor hace muchos años sobre dos Ángeles conversando en el cielo sobre el nacimiento de Jesús. A Andrea le gusto pero lo encontró muy corto así que lo morfamos con otra obra de navidad que nos había enviado su mama. La idea central de la obra giraba alrededor de la historia de Cristo como visto por los Ángeles en el cielo. Después de la obra los Ángeles bajaron de la tarima y almorzamos como comunidad de fe. A las 3:30 Andrea, Gonzalo que todavía no se había ido de l hogar y yo partimos para la Terminal para tomar el colectivo que nos llevaría a la provincia de Misiones. El colectivo salio el 23 de diciembre a las 4:30pm y llegamos al pueblo de Eldorado a las 7:00am. Tres horas antes me desperté para despedirme de Gonzalo que se bajaba en la parada de Posadas y solamente me desperté una vez más antes de llegar cuando pasamos por Puerto Rico.
Aquí empieza la aventura, nos estábamos quedando en la casa del Pastor Pare y su esposa Raquel con sus hijas Keyla y Vania. Ya que habíamos llegado día 24 esa tarde los estaríamos acompañando al culto de noche buena. Luego me entere que esta práctica que es muy normal para mí es poco común acá. Generalmente tienen servicio el 25 de diciembre y no el 24. Esa noche la luna estaba llena e iluminaba el camino hasta donde se lo permitían las nubes de lluvia que rápidamente invadían el panorama. Entonces el cielo se abrió y cayeron las gotas gordas sobre el camino de tierra transformándola en una cinta roja resbaladiza. En el asiento de atrás nos agarrabamos de lo que se podia mientras la convi comenzaba a patinar de un lado al otro como un carro que patina sobre nieve o la avenida cuando llueve y las gomas del carro no afirman!
Yo confiaba que el Pastor Pare podía ver mas que yo a través de la ventana que había desempañetado ya que por donde yo podía mirar todo había quedado nublado por la lluvia. Confiaba en que el podía mirar hacia arriba y ver el camino mientras yo miraba hacia mis pies aun así la vida tiene una manera de arreglarse para que tomemos un momento para ver con mas claridad. De repente la convi paro en seco reacomodando a todos los que andábamos en el asiento de atrás. Ahora si podía mirar hacia fuera pero todo lo que se veía era una continua oscuridad. Estuvimos ahí sentados por un tiempo en la oscuridad contemplando como seguir ya que las gomas del auto no hacían contacto ni alante ni atrás y la lluvia no daba indicio de que iba para pronto. De vez en cuando caía un relámpago espectacular que iluminaba todo el paisaje, estabas muy cerca de la entrada de la iglesia. Entonces vimos la luz, alguien había llegado a la iglesia por el otro lado del camino. El pastor se puso un poncho impermeable y salio en busca de ayuda. No tuvimos que esperar mucho cuando ya estaba de vuelta con dos señores. Mas rápido que poderlo decir nos abrieron la puerta y nos dijeron que había que caminar el resto del camino mientras ellos trataban de desencajar a la convi.
Ahora hace falta una aclaración, la tierra de Misiones es famosa por ser roja y por manchar todo y nunca salir por completo. Cuando salí de la convi aprendí muy inmediatamente que cuando uno camina por un camino de tierra en día de lluvia es mejor tener zapatos con amarre. Más aun en Misiones que la tierra se vuelve espesa y resbala. Cada paso me costaba mas y Raquel que llevaba a Keyla en los brazos se la tuvo que entregar al señor que había llevado a Vania al templo por que cada paso se hacia mas pesado hasta que al mismo tiempo las tres Andrea, Raquel y yo tuvimos que quitarnos los zapatos y seguir descalzas. Confieso que a pesar de la lluvia un poco fría la experiencia de caminar descalza en un camino de tierra fue agradable y si puedes tener la experiencia inténtalo no lo olvidaras. A pesar de estar resbalando no me pude apoyar de nadie por miedo de que si me iva yo se ivan conmigo. Por lo tanto tuve que confiar y guiarme con la luz que brillaba desde la entrada del templo.
Cuando al fin llegue a la entrada de la iglesia levante la mirada para ver el Gran árbol de navidad un Pino local con un tronco cubierto de espinas. Mis manos, mis pies y mi cartera estaban cubiertas con tierra roja. Un poco empapada y terracota me encontraba cuando se me informo que en la iglesia no había agua así que espere mientras se llenaba un cubo de lo que me imagino era agua de lluvia. Me lave las manos, y los pies pero mis zapatos que eran de tela y mete pie no teñían rescate. Hasta el día de hoy siguen llenas de tierra roja y no estoy segura de poder quitárselo por completo pero así son muchas cosas en la vida. El viento nos lleva a lugares inesperados en donde nos vemos empujados a ver el final del camino. Entramos a una casa y somos bienvenidos y la bendición cae sobre nosotros. Cuando dejamos esos lugares el polvo del camino forma parte de nuestra historia y mancha nuestros corazones de tal manera que por más clorox que se le eche con el tiempo siempre quedara algo de la experiencia.
Así que para el servicio de noche buena si me lave los pies pero quedaron aun así color tierra y mis zapatos presenciaron el pesebre viviente desde la entrada de la iglesia mientras yo y mis pies descalzos nos sentamos en el primer banco.
Después del servicio pasamos a la casa de una familia en donde celebramos el cumple de Jesús de manera muy parecida a la mía. A la media noche levantamos nuestras copas y brindamos compartiendo felicitaciones con besos y abrazos, había llegado la navidad.
Y así mi gente fue que pase noche buena.
Navidad y el 26 visite a dos iglesias mas participando en 3 servicios adicionales de navidad sumando a un total de 5 servicios!
El 27 continuaron las preparaciones ya que el día siguiente llegarían los esperados jóvenes. Pero Dios me bendijo aun mas por que el 28 llego mi amigo y compañero voluntario James (Santiago) En lo que quedo de la mañana limpiamos, movimos camas, colchones y preparamos la ensalada para el almuerzo. Cuando finalmente llego el grupo mi ropa estaba hecha un desastre con la mugre que se me había pegado pero tiempo no había para cambiarse. Aquí empieza la historia de aquellos que vinieron y es muy importante y la pienso contar pero ahora no es el momento. Tendrán que esperar un par de días ya que su historia se desborda con la de enero y esta carta ya es muy larga.
Hasta entonces….
Let me open my little box of memories so I can share the more important parts of this month with you.
December 2nd My birthday: The celebration started on the first and during the day I tried to make a Tres Leches cake but messed up making the topping. (It came out way too thick) On this day for the first time the home sickness hit me for real which meant that I spent a large part of the day in tears. My friends who live with me and their friends came together to help me finish my cake by refusing to let me quit half way and go to sleep. Don’t get me wrong I was happy it was my birthday after all but for the first time I really felt the absence.
(I’d also like to point out that my birthday was celebrated in traditional argentine style where you get three wishes instead of one, starting midnight the day before ending midnight the day of eating and being visited by those who know me.)
The exodus Being that December is the end of the year instead of the middle everyone prepared to go home for summer vacation and Christmas. My fellow house mates were restless and ready to be with their families, so one by one I said goodbye for the summer. Until there was only Gonzalo and I left in the house.
Carribean Christmas cards: The kids at La Casita also prepared for Christmas studying for final exams and making Christmas cards and decorations. Since Christmas falls during the summer I brought in bright colors like hot pink, turquoise, goldenrod, neon green and we made cut out cards with trees mangers and stars finishing them off with glitter in similar colors.
Martha came to visit so that I could help her finish or improve on a poem/letter she had written. I read it aloud to get a feel of it and there was nothing that needed to be fixed or added. “ When you read it out loud like that I can’t help feel like the words aren’t mine its like someone else wrote them some one better…” “But they are your words I’ve only read them out loud the way I know how to.” I don’t think I really understood how she felt until I gave a song I wrote to Fede one of the guys I live with and he put music to it. The song came to life at a piano when until I put it in his hands my words and he gave voice to the music in my heart. Sometimes it seems that it is necessary to trust that even though we might not think what we have to offer is any good, still by letting go someone else might see it for what it really is… Beautiful
And now, for my Christmas Story…
While the house was busy with people getting ready for exams and travel home at the church we were getting ready for “El taller de navidad” Christmas workshop that leads in to preparing for Christmas service and play. We were also preparing for the annual summer camp and we were getting ready for the arrival of a group of youth from the Pennsylvania companion synod.
For el taller de Navidad I remembered a Christmas play that we had done in my church when I was younger. Pastor Andrea loved it but because it was so short we decided to morph it with another play her mother had found. The main idea was the Christ story but as viewed by angles in heaven. After the play we gathered for lunch as a community but at 3:30 Andrea, Gonzalo and I were heading for the bus terminal to catch our ride to Misiones. Our bus left at 4:30pm on the 23rd and arrived at 7:00am on the 24th. Some where along the way about three hours before reaching our destination Gonzalo got off at Posadas his home town while we went off to Eldorado. This is where the adventure starts I guess because we were staying at the home of Pastor Pare, His wife Raquel and daughters Keyla and Vania. We accompanied them that evening to the Christmas Eve service which I found out later was unusual since they normally just have the Christmas day service instead. That night the moon was full and shone as brightly as it could still its beams made it only so far as rain clouds quickly came in to the scene. Big fat drops fell from the sky and the once smooth dirt road became soaping and slippery. Lightning broke through the landscape from time to time lighting the way. In the back seat we all held on as the convi started to glide from side to side like a car on a snow filled street!
I trusted that Pastor Pare could see more than I could of the way through his wiped down window. I trusted that he could look up when all I could do was look down at my feet but things have a funny way of fixing themselves. Suddenly the convi stopped with a jerk and we were all stuck trying to look out into the darkness. We sat there for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do next. The rain showed no signs of stopping any time soon and the wheels weren’t touching ground firm enough for us to move forward or backward. Then a light went on, someone was at the church. Pastor Pare got out wrapped up in a parka and went for help. We didn’t have long to wait before he was back and we were told that we needed to walk to the church while others came to get the convi unstuck. Now the earth in Missiones is famous for being very red and for staining and never really coming out of your cloths. When I jumped out of the convi I learned quickly that it also turned very thick and slippery when wet. Slowly but surely we climbed what remained of the hill carrying Vania and Keyla as we went. Until about half way in my shoes got stuck in the mud. Someone from the church came down the hill and picked up the girls and we had no other choice than to take off our shoes and continue bare foot. In spite of the chilly rain it was actually pretty nice to walk in the mud if you get the chance try it.
This time there wasn’t anybody in front of me to guide the way, it was too slippery if I were to go down in the mud I’d probably take out the person helping me so instead I had to trust in the light that shown from the church to find my way.
When I reached the steps of the temple I looked up and in at the large Christmas tree a local pine with a spiny trunk. My feet, my hands, my bag was all covered in mud as I stood soggy and terracotta in the doorstep. The church I was told had no running water, so we waited for the buckets to be filled with what I’m guessing is rain water to wash our selves off. My shoes to this day are still encrusted with mud and I’m not sure it will ever wash off but often isn’t that how it is in life. The wind carries us to unexpected places where we push ourselves to cross the finish line. We enter a home and are welcomed and a blessing falls over us all so that as we leave said place the dust from the trail becomes a part of our story a stain on our hearts that will never really wash out.
So for the Christmas service I washed the mud off my feet but they remained orange the nativity scene continued and my shoes remained at the entrance of the temple.
Afterwards we visited a family for dinner and Jesus’ birthday was celebrated in much the same way as mine. Midnight came about and we all raised our glasses in a toast kissing each other on the cheek and wishing each other a merry Christmas. That, friends is how I spent my Christmas eve.
Christmas day and the 26th I visited two more churches and participated in 3 more services making it 5 services total. Phew!
On the 28th a whole new set of adventures began with the arrival of my friend and fellow Volunteer James. We spent a large part of the day cleaning, moving beds and mattresses and making lunch when the much awaited group from Pennsylvania arrived my cloths were a mess but there was no time to change. So their story began and it’s an important one to share but you’ll have to wait a couple days because this has already turned long and their story is better left for January.
Until then…
________________________________________________________________
Diciembre, Dios mio! Antes que nada perdonen que esto les este llegando a mitad de enero pero me he encontrado en un estado de inercia y solamente he podido parar recién. No es decir que en el camino no he parado al contrario he tenido que parar varias veces en el camino, tomando un momento para levantar la mirada de mis pies al camino para poder saber hacia donde debo continuar. Tengo la tendencia de que cuando camino sobre terreno inestable no puedo mirar hacia arriba mi concentración va directamente hacia mis pies. Si no hay alguien enfrente mío que maneja el camino viendo hacia donde va que yo pueda seguir entonces me veo obligada a parar cada tanto para fijarme en el camino. Ustedes que me conocen un poco más saben que hasta cuando camino por terreno estable necesito un poco de ayuda para mantener mi balance. Esto significa o mas bien explica porque de vez en cuando los he tomado por el brazo al caminar.
( Si y aquí pueden hacer todos los chistes que quieran sobre no poder caminar y mirar, masticar chicle , hablar aplaudir etc al mismo tiempo jaja)
Estando en un lugar nuevo he tenido que llegar a un punto de confianza en donde pueda tomar de brazo a alguien sin que se sienta incomodo, este proceso me ha llevado a valorizar aun mas las amistades en donde pueda apoyarme al andar cuando sea necesario. Esto me llevar a pensar, ¿Quiénes son los que se apoyan en mi? Durante este mes de diciembre ha habido dos enfoques principales en mi vida el primero fue el adviento, la preparación en la espera de la llegada, el segundo ha sido un verso en la Biblia el cual no ubico en la memoria su localidad pero se que trata de lo siguiente:
Habla sobre cuando Jesús envía a sus discípulos a predicar el evangelio en diferentes pueblos. Les indica que si los reciben bien en su casa es como si lo recibieran a el y caerá una bendición en aquel hogar sin embargo si no te reciben esta bien también sigue tu camino y al partir de aquel lugar sacude tus pies y deja atrás el polvo de aquel camino.
Bueno déjame abrir mi cajita de memoria colectiva para compartir algunos de estos momentos con ustedes.
El 2 de diciembre Mi Cumpleaño: El comienzo de esta celebración comenzó el 1ero de diciembre un día en el cual me di a la tarea de hacer un bizcocho de tres leches pero la los tres leches terminaron siendo mas como la tres pasta. Me había salido muy espeso la leche y ante mi fracaso sentí por primera vez la verdadera ausencia de los míos. Es mas sin querer pase una mayor parte del día llorando. En ese momento mis amigos y amigas que viven conmigo y sus amistades que me estaban visitando en esa tarde se reunieron para ayudarme a terminar y rescatar a mi biscocho. No iban permitir que yo me rindiera a mitad de camino para irme a dormir a mi pieza al contrario. No me mal entiendan mi cumpleaños lo pase muy bien y no es que estaba triste si no que mas bien caí en cuenta de la ausencia de los que mas quiero.
(También quiero señalar que mi cumple se celebro como el de cualquier Argentino empezando a la medianoche del día anterior terminando a la media noche del mismo día. Acá se piden 3 deseos en vez de 1 y a través del día compartir y comí con todos los que me venían a saludar para mi cumpleaños.)
El Éxodo Diciembre acá se ve más bien como el fin del año y no como la mitad. Todos ya están listos para irse a sus casas luego de un año largo escolar. Están listos y hasta un poco ansiosos por comenzar sus vacaciones de verano y estar con sus familias para la navidad. Por lo tanto poco a poco se fueron hiendo del hogar hasta que solamente quedamos a partir del 21 de diciembre Gonzalo y yo.
Tarjetas de navidad a lo caribeño: Los niños en la Casita también se preparaban para el fin del año estudiando para exámenes finales y preparando manualidades para la navidad. Como acá la navidad sucede en el verano pensé que para las tarjetas que les iba mandar a hacer podíamos usar colores brillantes como el turquesa, fucsia, mostaza, verde neon, y el violeta oscuro. A las tarjetas le cortamos siluetas de arbolitos de navidad, estrellas de Belén y para los mas grandes hasta pesebres dándoles un toque final con escarcha de colores igualmente brillante.
Vino Marta a visitarme para que yo le ayudara terminar o mejorar un poema que había escrito. Solo basto con que lo leyera en voz alta no era necesario cambiarle nada. “Cuando lo lees en voz alta me siento como si no fuese algo que yo escribí, se escucha como algo lindo…” “Pero si lo escribiste estas son tus palabras simplemente las he leído en voz alta.” No creo que entendí bien el sentimiento de Marta hasta que le entregue la canción que recién escribí a Fede uno de los chicos del hogar. La canción nació de nuevo en el piano cuando a las palabras de mi corazón se le puso música. Aprendí que a veces es necesario confiar que a pesar de que no pensemos que lo que tenemos para ofrecer sea algo que valga la pena, aun así compartiéndolo existe la posibilidad de que alguien más lo pueda ver lo que es en verdad… Algo Hermoso
Y ahora les cuento la historia de mi navidad…
Mientras los del Hogar se preparaban para exámenes y para viajar los de la iglesia nos preparábamos para el taller de navidad que viene siendo como un campamento que dan las iglesias en donde se preparan las cosas para el servicio de navidad, por ejemplo la obra o el pesebre viviente etc. Al mismo tiempo nos preparábamos para el campamento de verano que se da la primera semana de enero y para la llegada de un grupo de jóvenes del sínodo compañero de Pennsylvania.
Para el taller de Navidad me recordaba de una obra que habíamos hecho en Buen Pastor hace muchos años sobre dos Ángeles conversando en el cielo sobre el nacimiento de Jesús. A Andrea le gusto pero lo encontró muy corto así que lo morfamos con otra obra de navidad que nos había enviado su mama. La idea central de la obra giraba alrededor de la historia de Cristo como visto por los Ángeles en el cielo. Después de la obra los Ángeles bajaron de la tarima y almorzamos como comunidad de fe. A las 3:30 Andrea, Gonzalo que todavía no se había ido de l hogar y yo partimos para la Terminal para tomar el colectivo que nos llevaría a la provincia de Misiones. El colectivo salio el 23 de diciembre a las 4:30pm y llegamos al pueblo de Eldorado a las 7:00am. Tres horas antes me desperté para despedirme de Gonzalo que se bajaba en la parada de Posadas y solamente me desperté una vez más antes de llegar cuando pasamos por Puerto Rico.
Aquí empieza la aventura, nos estábamos quedando en la casa del Pastor Pare y su esposa Raquel con sus hijas Keyla y Vania. Ya que habíamos llegado día 24 esa tarde los estaríamos acompañando al culto de noche buena. Luego me entere que esta práctica que es muy normal para mí es poco común acá. Generalmente tienen servicio el 25 de diciembre y no el 24. Esa noche la luna estaba llena e iluminaba el camino hasta donde se lo permitían las nubes de lluvia que rápidamente invadían el panorama. Entonces el cielo se abrió y cayeron las gotas gordas sobre el camino de tierra transformándola en una cinta roja resbaladiza. En el asiento de atrás nos agarrabamos de lo que se podia mientras la convi comenzaba a patinar de un lado al otro como un carro que patina sobre nieve o la avenida cuando llueve y las gomas del carro no afirman!
Yo confiaba que el Pastor Pare podía ver mas que yo a través de la ventana que había desempañetado ya que por donde yo podía mirar todo había quedado nublado por la lluvia. Confiaba en que el podía mirar hacia arriba y ver el camino mientras yo miraba hacia mis pies aun así la vida tiene una manera de arreglarse para que tomemos un momento para ver con mas claridad. De repente la convi paro en seco reacomodando a todos los que andábamos en el asiento de atrás. Ahora si podía mirar hacia fuera pero todo lo que se veía era una continua oscuridad. Estuvimos ahí sentados por un tiempo en la oscuridad contemplando como seguir ya que las gomas del auto no hacían contacto ni alante ni atrás y la lluvia no daba indicio de que iba para pronto. De vez en cuando caía un relámpago espectacular que iluminaba todo el paisaje, estabas muy cerca de la entrada de la iglesia. Entonces vimos la luz, alguien había llegado a la iglesia por el otro lado del camino. El pastor se puso un poncho impermeable y salio en busca de ayuda. No tuvimos que esperar mucho cuando ya estaba de vuelta con dos señores. Mas rápido que poderlo decir nos abrieron la puerta y nos dijeron que había que caminar el resto del camino mientras ellos trataban de desencajar a la convi.
Ahora hace falta una aclaración, la tierra de Misiones es famosa por ser roja y por manchar todo y nunca salir por completo. Cuando salí de la convi aprendí muy inmediatamente que cuando uno camina por un camino de tierra en día de lluvia es mejor tener zapatos con amarre. Más aun en Misiones que la tierra se vuelve espesa y resbala. Cada paso me costaba mas y Raquel que llevaba a Keyla en los brazos se la tuvo que entregar al señor que había llevado a Vania al templo por que cada paso se hacia mas pesado hasta que al mismo tiempo las tres Andrea, Raquel y yo tuvimos que quitarnos los zapatos y seguir descalzas. Confieso que a pesar de la lluvia un poco fría la experiencia de caminar descalza en un camino de tierra fue agradable y si puedes tener la experiencia inténtalo no lo olvidaras. A pesar de estar resbalando no me pude apoyar de nadie por miedo de que si me iva yo se ivan conmigo. Por lo tanto tuve que confiar y guiarme con la luz que brillaba desde la entrada del templo.
Cuando al fin llegue a la entrada de la iglesia levante la mirada para ver el Gran árbol de navidad un Pino local con un tronco cubierto de espinas. Mis manos, mis pies y mi cartera estaban cubiertas con tierra roja. Un poco empapada y terracota me encontraba cuando se me informo que en la iglesia no había agua así que espere mientras se llenaba un cubo de lo que me imagino era agua de lluvia. Me lave las manos, y los pies pero mis zapatos que eran de tela y mete pie no teñían rescate. Hasta el día de hoy siguen llenas de tierra roja y no estoy segura de poder quitárselo por completo pero así son muchas cosas en la vida. El viento nos lleva a lugares inesperados en donde nos vemos empujados a ver el final del camino. Entramos a una casa y somos bienvenidos y la bendición cae sobre nosotros. Cuando dejamos esos lugares el polvo del camino forma parte de nuestra historia y mancha nuestros corazones de tal manera que por más clorox que se le eche con el tiempo siempre quedara algo de la experiencia.
Así que para el servicio de noche buena si me lave los pies pero quedaron aun así color tierra y mis zapatos presenciaron el pesebre viviente desde la entrada de la iglesia mientras yo y mis pies descalzos nos sentamos en el primer banco.
Después del servicio pasamos a la casa de una familia en donde celebramos el cumple de Jesús de manera muy parecida a la mía. A la media noche levantamos nuestras copas y brindamos compartiendo felicitaciones con besos y abrazos, había llegado la navidad.
Y así mi gente fue que pase noche buena.
Navidad y el 26 visite a dos iglesias mas participando en 3 servicios adicionales de navidad sumando a un total de 5 servicios!
El 27 continuaron las preparaciones ya que el día siguiente llegarían los esperados jóvenes. Pero Dios me bendijo aun mas por que el 28 llego mi amigo y compañero voluntario James (Santiago) En lo que quedo de la mañana limpiamos, movimos camas, colchones y preparamos la ensalada para el almuerzo. Cuando finalmente llego el grupo mi ropa estaba hecha un desastre con la mugre que se me había pegado pero tiempo no había para cambiarse. Aquí empieza la historia de aquellos que vinieron y es muy importante y la pienso contar pero ahora no es el momento. Tendrán que esperar un par de días ya que su historia se desborda con la de enero y esta carta ya es muy larga.
Hasta entonces….
Monday, January 21, 2008
December Newsletter! - Jessica in Slovakia
Jessica’s December Newsletter
Updates from Horná Mičiná, Slovakia
Christmas in Slovakia!
The holidays began with Svätý Mikulaš (St. Nicholas) Day on December 6th. This is a remembrance and celebration of St. Nicholas, but it is mostly a holiday for the kids, because St. Mikulaš brings candies and sweets to their shoes the night before. On this day the schools had special programs and the kids were excited to get treats. St. Mikulaš even left me a treat bag in my shoes!
Advent was an exciting time here in the village as we prepared for Christmas. The Sunday school children had a short program we prepared and practiced throughout the month for the Christmas Eve service. Throughout Advent we had weekly Thursday evening services here in the village. We also had a Bible study in Dolna Mičiná and Čerín (two small villages near here) each week. However, it really did not feel like Christmas until Christmas Eve. In the village people really do not put up decorations or Christmas lights, and do not even put their Christmas tree up until Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve was the busiest and most celebrated day. There was a church service in Čerín in the morning, and then the service here in Horná Mičiná in the evening. In between the two services I was busy helping Marcelka cook dinner for after church. The Sunday school kids performed their program during the service which was really nice, and I felt at home when we ended the service singing “Ticha Noc”, which is “Silent Night” in Slovak. After the service I went back to the Pastor’s house and the Christmas tree had presents underneath! The presents are brought during the church service, and some kids believe Jesus brings the gifts, and others believe Santa or Uncle Frost brings the gifts. Before opening gifts we had the Christmas meal though. As I sat down for the meal I noticed we each had a plate with just a raw clove of garlic in the middle. As I looked at it trying to figure out what to do with the garlic, I was told that they begin the meal by eating the garlic for good health for the next year. I have never tasted anything quite like biting into raw garlic before! Then we had the special kapustnica (cabbage soup). Since November we had been eating kapustnica, because everyone makes it after they slaughter their pigs, but this was a special Christmas kapustnica. It had cabbage, potatoes, mushrooms, and sausage in a creamy broth. Believe it or not I really liked the soup! After soup we had the traditional meal of ryba (fish) and zemiakove šalat (potato salad). After this main meal we had a sweet salad that consisted of pieces of bread mixed with poppy seeds (of course lots of poppy seeds!) and raisins. There were also rolled wafers called trubčky that are traditional for Christmas.
Once the meal was over little Dano was ready to open the presents! It was really different to be opening the presents late in the evening, and they do not fill stockings here. There were also a lot less gifts than what is usual in America, but it was nice because it was just a couple of special gifts. I was really excited because they gave me a book of short stories in Slovak and in English, so I am learning more! When I tell people what Christmas is like in America they always ask “How can children sleep the night before Christmas if they can’t open their gifts Christmas Eve!?” and I respond by asking “How can the children sleep that night after they have just finished opening their gifts and then they have to go to bed already!?”
Christmas day began with a morning church service, which I really liked because it was a celebration of the true meaning of Christmas, and not just opening presents. The rest of the day was laid back with a traditional Slovak lunch in the afternoon. The day after Christmas is also celebrated here and there was another morning church service that day. It is still a celebration of Christmas, but it is also the celebration of Svätý Stefan (St. Stephen) Day. The days after Christmas people visited the houses of family and friends. I thought it was interesting that before Christmas there were no Christmas parties or gift exchanges with friends, because it is a quieter time of preparation. However, after Christmas it is like a big never ending party! There were people from the village visiting the Pastor’s house, and then people inviting us over to their house. The hospitality of Slovaks was really evident, because every time we had people over, or went to someone’s house there was so much food constantly being offered and toasts being given.
New Year’s is also a big celebration here with church services on New Year’s Eve (which they call Silvester) and on New Year’s Day. Many people came to the Pastor’s house to celebrate and the church keeper came at midnight to ring the bells. We all went up into the bell tower to watch the fire works people were setting off. I thought it was really nice that everyone gives “New Year’s wishes”. When you see a friend or family member after the New Year has begun you shake their hand, give a kiss on each cheek, and then give them a New Year’s wish. Usually people say something like I wish you everything good for the next year- good health, happiness, and so on.
December was a really interesting month, because I was able to learn a lot more about the culture in Slovakia. There was also a lot of time to spend with people in the village over the holidays. It was difficult to be away from home during Christmas, but everything was so different here and there was so much to experience that it was exciting for me.
Thank you for your prayers and support!
-Jessica
ELCA Young Adult in Global Mission Volunteer Missionary serving in Slovakia
Updates from Horná Mičiná, Slovakia
Christmas in Slovakia!
The holidays began with Svätý Mikulaš (St. Nicholas) Day on December 6th. This is a remembrance and celebration of St. Nicholas, but it is mostly a holiday for the kids, because St. Mikulaš brings candies and sweets to their shoes the night before. On this day the schools had special programs and the kids were excited to get treats. St. Mikulaš even left me a treat bag in my shoes!
Advent was an exciting time here in the village as we prepared for Christmas. The Sunday school children had a short program we prepared and practiced throughout the month for the Christmas Eve service. Throughout Advent we had weekly Thursday evening services here in the village. We also had a Bible study in Dolna Mičiná and Čerín (two small villages near here) each week. However, it really did not feel like Christmas until Christmas Eve. In the village people really do not put up decorations or Christmas lights, and do not even put their Christmas tree up until Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve was the busiest and most celebrated day. There was a church service in Čerín in the morning, and then the service here in Horná Mičiná in the evening. In between the two services I was busy helping Marcelka cook dinner for after church. The Sunday school kids performed their program during the service which was really nice, and I felt at home when we ended the service singing “Ticha Noc”, which is “Silent Night” in Slovak. After the service I went back to the Pastor’s house and the Christmas tree had presents underneath! The presents are brought during the church service, and some kids believe Jesus brings the gifts, and others believe Santa or Uncle Frost brings the gifts. Before opening gifts we had the Christmas meal though. As I sat down for the meal I noticed we each had a plate with just a raw clove of garlic in the middle. As I looked at it trying to figure out what to do with the garlic, I was told that they begin the meal by eating the garlic for good health for the next year. I have never tasted anything quite like biting into raw garlic before! Then we had the special kapustnica (cabbage soup). Since November we had been eating kapustnica, because everyone makes it after they slaughter their pigs, but this was a special Christmas kapustnica. It had cabbage, potatoes, mushrooms, and sausage in a creamy broth. Believe it or not I really liked the soup! After soup we had the traditional meal of ryba (fish) and zemiakove šalat (potato salad). After this main meal we had a sweet salad that consisted of pieces of bread mixed with poppy seeds (of course lots of poppy seeds!) and raisins. There were also rolled wafers called trubčky that are traditional for Christmas.
Once the meal was over little Dano was ready to open the presents! It was really different to be opening the presents late in the evening, and they do not fill stockings here. There were also a lot less gifts than what is usual in America, but it was nice because it was just a couple of special gifts. I was really excited because they gave me a book of short stories in Slovak and in English, so I am learning more! When I tell people what Christmas is like in America they always ask “How can children sleep the night before Christmas if they can’t open their gifts Christmas Eve!?” and I respond by asking “How can the children sleep that night after they have just finished opening their gifts and then they have to go to bed already!?”
Christmas day began with a morning church service, which I really liked because it was a celebration of the true meaning of Christmas, and not just opening presents. The rest of the day was laid back with a traditional Slovak lunch in the afternoon. The day after Christmas is also celebrated here and there was another morning church service that day. It is still a celebration of Christmas, but it is also the celebration of Svätý Stefan (St. Stephen) Day. The days after Christmas people visited the houses of family and friends. I thought it was interesting that before Christmas there were no Christmas parties or gift exchanges with friends, because it is a quieter time of preparation. However, after Christmas it is like a big never ending party! There were people from the village visiting the Pastor’s house, and then people inviting us over to their house. The hospitality of Slovaks was really evident, because every time we had people over, or went to someone’s house there was so much food constantly being offered and toasts being given.
New Year’s is also a big celebration here with church services on New Year’s Eve (which they call Silvester) and on New Year’s Day. Many people came to the Pastor’s house to celebrate and the church keeper came at midnight to ring the bells. We all went up into the bell tower to watch the fire works people were setting off. I thought it was really nice that everyone gives “New Year’s wishes”. When you see a friend or family member after the New Year has begun you shake their hand, give a kiss on each cheek, and then give them a New Year’s wish. Usually people say something like I wish you everything good for the next year- good health, happiness, and so on.
December was a really interesting month, because I was able to learn a lot more about the culture in Slovakia. There was also a lot of time to spend with people in the village over the holidays. It was difficult to be away from home during Christmas, but everything was so different here and there was so much to experience that it was exciting for me.
Thank you for your prayers and support!
-Jessica
ELCA Young Adult in Global Mission Volunteer Missionary serving in Slovakia
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
