Saturday morning we woke up early, congregated at the Strong Tower (Torre Fuerte: the name of the house I live in), and left in the ministry bus by about 7 a.m. Twelve of us volunteers were headed to Hot Country, to the town of Melgar, to relax for the weekend. Li'l J. stayed at the farm with the other ministry kids and the directors.
We got out of the city, we saw mountains that weren't covered in buildings or shrouded in smog. My ears popped as we lowered, but the mountains didn't disappear like they do in Appalachia. It got warm! Finally we pulled up in front of the Hotel los Toboganes de Melgar, in the rain, but: warm! work-free! on vacation!
It went something like this: check into the rooms, put on swimsuits, jump in the pool, go down the water slides, feel a little out of place as the only foreigners in this hotel (but not too out of place to enjoy ourselves), nap, sit in the late afternoon sun, eat dinner, change, go dancing!
Sunday was more of the same: resting, walking through the town, and generally enjoying ourselves.
Monday morning I pulled out my earplugs just in time to find out that everyone was about to leave to go rent motorbikes, so I got up and got ready quickly (I know that's surprising to anyone who's ever lived with me). We got the motos and started buzzing around, two by two. I sat behind Ingrid and felt like Dumb&Dumber on the tiniest scooter ever. Then we broke down, but I did get to ride a bit more with another coworker.
All told, it was a very fun weekend! I didn't get sunburnt (thank you, SPF 30 and cloud cover), I got to know my coworkers better, we danced, I saw nature, and when we went back to work today I was in a good mood and happy to see the kids. I really think J. grew a centimeter over the weekend! He's been really sweet today (mostly).
~~~~~~~~~~
This morning I prayed that I'll really LOVE li'l J. More than just caring for him and having sweet feelings toward the kid, but really selfless, consistent love. Then I read for a bit, just picking up where I'd started in 1 Samuel, chapter 24 -- and it was when David spares Saul's life. They're in a cave, Saul doesn't know David's in there and David's men encourage him to kill the king, his enemy. But David has mercy, shows respect, loves where he hasn't received love.
This afternoon, when J. went down for his nap and I was washing dishes, I realized with thanksgiving that God loves these kids we work with waaaay more than we ever can. And we care about them a lot. We want only the best for them. We put a lot into them. And God loves me even more than I love myself (which is a lot; I won't pretend self-loathing). And then a song came to mind, which I went and listened to and started learning to play on the guitar:
"...I know all my broken places like the back of my hand
That slapped your face again
Wash me in your love and hold me tight like a baby
Till I have no memory of ever breaking Your heart
And in the joy when you restore me I will stand and walk again
I will run into this world I will call them to come in
But I will not point my finger or grow that wicked skin
That cannot remember what I will not forget
How I broke you, or how I'm broken..."
I love the images of Jesus' love washing away even the memory of my sins, but then that I also don't want to forget where I've been and what he's done for me... because then that love can flow through me.
Finally, there's this quote by quaker Harold Loukes that I received just before moving here:
"An act of love that fails is just as much a part of the divine life as an act of love that succeeds, for love is measured by its own fullness, not by its reception."
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I want to cook!
But they cut the gas last Thursday and we still haven't gotten it reconnected! Here's how it happened:
I went downstairs to boil some water for tea, but the stove wouldn't light. That evening I asked my roommate, Rebecca, about it and she discovered a lock on the gas box outside. After calling around to make sure the bill got paid, we discovered that the only probable reason the gas got cut off was because the company didn't return to complete an inspection. We were told they'd come by on Saturday to reconnect it, but no one ever showed up. This week we've been asking and calling and expecting that someone else was calling, only to find out that none of us did it. Today we finally got the account numbers and everything, called the company, called their affiliate, and have an appointment set for tomorrow afternoon!
As my non-Spanish-speaking housemate, B.J., always says, "It's Colombia: mañana." Everything is always put off until tomorrow.
So, I'm headed out to the store around the corner to buy food to cook in the microwave. I've gotten tired of eating out. My other housemate, Madeline, searched microwave recipes online so we'll actually have good food.
...if I ever get to leave the house. Right now, the little boy who I'm taking care of is being defiant. We were almost ready to leave, and all he had to do was put on his shoes, but now ten minutes later I'm still trying to get him to just sit in discipline. Life with a 3 1/2 year old is difficult at times, but very rewarding at other times.
Half and hour later, he's finally sitting. Tantrums are no fun for either of us, nor for anyone else who lives in this house or who is visiting. Madeline went to the store herself.
Hopefully after he sits for his five minutes we'll have a good chat and then we can go help Madeline cook, which he likes to do!
I went downstairs to boil some water for tea, but the stove wouldn't light. That evening I asked my roommate, Rebecca, about it and she discovered a lock on the gas box outside. After calling around to make sure the bill got paid, we discovered that the only probable reason the gas got cut off was because the company didn't return to complete an inspection. We were told they'd come by on Saturday to reconnect it, but no one ever showed up. This week we've been asking and calling and expecting that someone else was calling, only to find out that none of us did it. Today we finally got the account numbers and everything, called the company, called their affiliate, and have an appointment set for tomorrow afternoon!
As my non-Spanish-speaking housemate, B.J., always says, "It's Colombia: mañana." Everything is always put off until tomorrow.
So, I'm headed out to the store around the corner to buy food to cook in the microwave. I've gotten tired of eating out. My other housemate, Madeline, searched microwave recipes online so we'll actually have good food.
...if I ever get to leave the house. Right now, the little boy who I'm taking care of is being defiant. We were almost ready to leave, and all he had to do was put on his shoes, but now ten minutes later I'm still trying to get him to just sit in discipline. Life with a 3 1/2 year old is difficult at times, but very rewarding at other times.
Half and hour later, he's finally sitting. Tantrums are no fun for either of us, nor for anyone else who lives in this house or who is visiting. Madeline went to the store herself.
Hopefully after he sits for his five minutes we'll have a good chat and then we can go help Madeline cook, which he likes to do!
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The bad, the good and the beautiful.
Four children peed their pants before lunch today.
My stomach was upset from the time I woke up until... well, is it better yet?
The boy I'm taking care of is having a rough week and our interactions are far from dreamlike.
I tried to make rice and it was terrible.
I have a temper and it's hard for me to control it sometimes.
I'm learning more how to express my frustration in words while I'm still in the difficult situation, which releases my tension and models good verbal expression for the kids.
I live with great folks, who along with a few other friends are downstairs right now playing table tennis on our newly-made ping pong table.
In a little while I get to go to sleep!
There's grace to cover my multitude of sins, accidents, losses of self-control, and bad days.
My stomach was upset from the time I woke up until... well, is it better yet?
The boy I'm taking care of is having a rough week and our interactions are far from dreamlike.
I tried to make rice and it was terrible.
I have a temper and it's hard for me to control it sometimes.
I'm learning more how to express my frustration in words while I'm still in the difficult situation, which releases my tension and models good verbal expression for the kids.
I live with great folks, who along with a few other friends are downstairs right now playing table tennis on our newly-made ping pong table.
In a little while I get to go to sleep!
There's grace to cover my multitude of sins, accidents, losses of self-control, and bad days.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
old city loop
Monday, 3:40 pm, El Otro Camino.
After praying together in the "upper room" (office), six of us head out for a walk from this, our drop-in center in Barrio Santa Fe, a run-down and slightly rough area of Bogota. Walking down streets lined with motorbikes, taxis, trash, and dogs we get further away from areas I've been and enter the section called La Favorita. The streets get wider, dirtier. The graffiti is more prolific; some of it is beautiful. Catholic churches tower every few blocks; men stand or lie among the trash piles. A dog stares; a worndown woman hauls a sack full of whatever she has found. Smoke rises into the dusty afternoon light. I wish I had my camera; know I can't because it's not safe.
From La Favorita, we regroup at a plaza, pray, continue walking. This street consists of blanket shops. (In Bogota all the shops of the same nature are grouped together. I live near the 'funeral street' -- purely marble engravers and florists.) Walking up the street, we pass a side road full of police. This is called the Bronx. I'm distracted by the commotion and trying to figure out what happened. Carlos hears someone advertising marijuana. Apparently Andy looks past all that and sees a lot of kids on that long, dark stretch of the city. We'll pray for entrance to the Bronx to get to know the kids and families there.
Next we cross a large plaza, and a homeless man starts talking to us in New York City English. He's lying on the grass enjoying the sun; I answer his greeting as we pass. Waiting at the corner to cross the next street, he's behind us. Andy talks to him for a few minutes. His name is Joaquin. He lived in NYC for many years; now he's back in Colombia.
After the Bronx and our chat with Joaquin, we're halfway done with our loop. Now we head into the Zona de Tolerancia. The first street is lined with transvestite brothels. Two streets later we pass more brothels; these are actually women, I'm told. We don't see any children, thankfully, but Carlos assures me there are kids living in the buildings in this area.
Entering back into Santa Fe, we pass a green door from behind which we hear children's voices. I'm told this is where three of the students at Luz y Vida live... along with thirty-some other kids, and their families. It's a squatter invasion. In this neighborhood of abandoned buildings, getting routed from one to another is part of life, it seems.
As we continue walking, I recognize the park, and then we're at El Otro Camino again. We regroup inside, talk a bit about who saw children where, and when we'll go out again. Next time, it will be with hot chocolate and bread, to introduce ourselves. Next time will be Thursday (tomorrow) afternoon.
After praying together in the "upper room" (office), six of us head out for a walk from this, our drop-in center in Barrio Santa Fe, a run-down and slightly rough area of Bogota. Walking down streets lined with motorbikes, taxis, trash, and dogs we get further away from areas I've been and enter the section called La Favorita. The streets get wider, dirtier. The graffiti is more prolific; some of it is beautiful. Catholic churches tower every few blocks; men stand or lie among the trash piles. A dog stares; a worndown woman hauls a sack full of whatever she has found. Smoke rises into the dusty afternoon light. I wish I had my camera; know I can't because it's not safe.
From La Favorita, we regroup at a plaza, pray, continue walking. This street consists of blanket shops. (In Bogota all the shops of the same nature are grouped together. I live near the 'funeral street' -- purely marble engravers and florists.) Walking up the street, we pass a side road full of police. This is called the Bronx. I'm distracted by the commotion and trying to figure out what happened. Carlos hears someone advertising marijuana. Apparently Andy looks past all that and sees a lot of kids on that long, dark stretch of the city. We'll pray for entrance to the Bronx to get to know the kids and families there.
Next we cross a large plaza, and a homeless man starts talking to us in New York City English. He's lying on the grass enjoying the sun; I answer his greeting as we pass. Waiting at the corner to cross the next street, he's behind us. Andy talks to him for a few minutes. His name is Joaquin. He lived in NYC for many years; now he's back in Colombia.
After the Bronx and our chat with Joaquin, we're halfway done with our loop. Now we head into the Zona de Tolerancia. The first street is lined with transvestite brothels. Two streets later we pass more brothels; these are actually women, I'm told. We don't see any children, thankfully, but Carlos assures me there are kids living in the buildings in this area.
Entering back into Santa Fe, we pass a green door from behind which we hear children's voices. I'm told this is where three of the students at Luz y Vida live... along with thirty-some other kids, and their families. It's a squatter invasion. In this neighborhood of abandoned buildings, getting routed from one to another is part of life, it seems.
As we continue walking, I recognize the park, and then we're at El Otro Camino again. We regroup inside, talk a bit about who saw children where, and when we'll go out again. Next time, it will be with hot chocolate and bread, to introduce ourselves. Next time will be Thursday (tomorrow) afternoon.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
la ruta y el parque (the school bus and the park)
One of my favorite daily sights is the dog walkers. Every morning, going up on the Avenida Circumvalar (which circles (circumvents?) the eastern part of the city, up on the edge of the mountain), we pass through a nice area of apartment buildings and private parks and such, and there are usually a few folks along the way who are out walking armfuls of dogs.
This week in the park where the school is I saw a small, scruffy dog in a dingy dress playing with a kickball. It put its front paws on the ball and walked backwards, moving in circles with the red rubber ball. I imagined it to be the practice time of a washed-up circus act, no one but me paying any attention, let alone pesos.
Friday afternoon the kids had P.E. class, so I went outside with them and Profe Lucas to the ball court. At first we had the whole court to ourselves, which is rare in that park, but soon a group came up to use half of it. This group was a little different than normal, though. Instead of the elementary kids in their matching uniforms or occasional teenagers in street clothes, this time about fifteen women all dressed very modestly in dark gray and many wearing large cross necklaces had come out to play basketball. That’s right: nuns! As I mused over the monastic life and their choice of exercise, one of our students strayed onto their side of the court with the ball, almost getting run over by the enthusiastic b-ballers. Luke yelled, “Cuidado con las monjas!” (Careful with the nuns!), to which he and I both died laughing. I mean, really, how often do you get to use that phrase?
Every afternoon on the ruta taking the kids home, we play “I spy.” Yo veo algo… verde! And then begins the guessing (and my asking kids to not shout). Today we played until we got tired, then Ingrid suggested the game where you search for the letters of the alphabet, in order, on signs that you pass along the road. Thank the Lord, going through that game twice lasted until we dropped them off. Today was way better than yesterday’s ride, during which they wouldn’t stay seated and insisted on yelling most of the way – at each other, at us, out the window at the president’s palace “Hola, Presidente Uribe!” (I actually encouraged that one; and had to correct one kid when he first shouted, “Hola, Presidente Chávez!” Wrong country, friend.) They continued shouting, and got louder the closer we got to their barrio, which is called “PARAÍSO ALTO! PARAÍSO ALTO! PARAÍSO ALTO!”
Somehow, most of the way 6 or 7-year-old E. slept on my lap, in spite of his friends’ attempts to wake him with shouting. Before zonking out in my arms, he babbled on about the cars and motos and policías we passed along the way. Most of the time I couldn’t hear or understand him, but once I caught the word cárcel: jail. I looked down at him and asked what he was talking about. “¿Cierto que a los marijuaneros se los van a llevar a la cárcel?” (Isn’t it true that the potheads are going to be taken to jail?) I agreed, we talked about it a bit, and I managed to keep my laughter in until later when I told Ingrid about his conversation.
This week in the park where the school is I saw a small, scruffy dog in a dingy dress playing with a kickball. It put its front paws on the ball and walked backwards, moving in circles with the red rubber ball. I imagined it to be the practice time of a washed-up circus act, no one but me paying any attention, let alone pesos.
Friday afternoon the kids had P.E. class, so I went outside with them and Profe Lucas to the ball court. At first we had the whole court to ourselves, which is rare in that park, but soon a group came up to use half of it. This group was a little different than normal, though. Instead of the elementary kids in their matching uniforms or occasional teenagers in street clothes, this time about fifteen women all dressed very modestly in dark gray and many wearing large cross necklaces had come out to play basketball. That’s right: nuns! As I mused over the monastic life and their choice of exercise, one of our students strayed onto their side of the court with the ball, almost getting run over by the enthusiastic b-ballers. Luke yelled, “Cuidado con las monjas!” (Careful with the nuns!), to which he and I both died laughing. I mean, really, how often do you get to use that phrase?
Every afternoon on the ruta taking the kids home, we play “I spy.” Yo veo algo… verde! And then begins the guessing (and my asking kids to not shout). Today we played until we got tired, then Ingrid suggested the game where you search for the letters of the alphabet, in order, on signs that you pass along the road. Thank the Lord, going through that game twice lasted until we dropped them off. Today was way better than yesterday’s ride, during which they wouldn’t stay seated and insisted on yelling most of the way – at each other, at us, out the window at the president’s palace “Hola, Presidente Uribe!” (I actually encouraged that one; and had to correct one kid when he first shouted, “Hola, Presidente Chávez!” Wrong country, friend.) They continued shouting, and got louder the closer we got to their barrio, which is called “PARAÍSO ALTO! PARAÍSO ALTO! PARAÍSO ALTO!”
Somehow, most of the way 6 or 7-year-old E. slept on my lap, in spite of his friends’ attempts to wake him with shouting. Before zonking out in my arms, he babbled on about the cars and motos and policías we passed along the way. Most of the time I couldn’t hear or understand him, but once I caught the word cárcel: jail. I looked down at him and asked what he was talking about. “¿Cierto que a los marijuaneros se los van a llevar a la cárcel?” (Isn’t it true that the potheads are going to be taken to jail?) I agreed, we talked about it a bit, and I managed to keep my laughter in until later when I told Ingrid about his conversation.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Profe!
I'm tired! I was sick all weekend with a fever, so I spent a lot of time in bed (although probably not as much as I should have... I already had plans to visit some friends' house, so we went anyways!). Thankfully this morning I awoke without any trace of fever, so I was able to get up and go work!
Yesterday, like every Monday, was team meeting day, so all the people working here with Formando Vidas got together from 9:30-1:00ish. By the time we got back at 2:00, I was so exhausted I decided I wanted to sleep more than I wanted to eat...And I slept through the thunderstorm that brought with it a pile of sleet! I thought I heard something hitting the window, but just ignored it. Anyways, when I finally got out of bed a couple hours later to heat up some leftover rice and lentils, I was surprised to see white all over the ground in the patio!
Today I started my week at Escuela Luz y Vida (Light and Life School). It went well. There wasn't any force feeding of children; these all eat well: I think they understand the value of food a little more than the wee ones do. The kids are very sweet and very difficult. I'm assisting a teacher in a class of five boys, all of whom are basically special needs kids. Whew! (or as we say here: uysh!)
How many times during one day can you possibly hear "PROFE!" yelled? And supposedly be able to distinguish which of the teachers is being summoned? And then have some sort of response to whatever the situation is, whether it be a disagreement, a need for help with school work, permission to go to the bathroom, to be pushed on the swings, or just some attention?
This morning, when we arrived with the ruta (bus route to pick up and drop off kids), the first thing we did was go play on the playground while waiting for the others to arrive (we were a bit early). While there, a street man walked through, searching the trashcans. Here, many of the foods and condiments that we have in jars in the States come in bags (jam, ketchup, milk). It broke my heart to watch him squeezing a yogurt bag for any last drop that might have remained inside.
This afternoon, because of rain, it took longer than usual for the ruta to drop everyone off and arrive back at the office, where I stay. We left around 2:40 and didn't get here until 5:00, at which time I went straight to the grocery store. I wasn't until probably an hour later, when the Tuesday pastry lady rang the bell to sell us delicious pastelillos filled with chicken, that I reached in my pocket and found: Jose's keys. He's one of the boys in the class I helped with today, and I kept his keys for him when they fell out of his pocket while playing. I hope he had somewhere to go until his Mom got home and let him in. Que pena...
Yesterday, like every Monday, was team meeting day, so all the people working here with Formando Vidas got together from 9:30-1:00ish. By the time we got back at 2:00, I was so exhausted I decided I wanted to sleep more than I wanted to eat...And I slept through the thunderstorm that brought with it a pile of sleet! I thought I heard something hitting the window, but just ignored it. Anyways, when I finally got out of bed a couple hours later to heat up some leftover rice and lentils, I was surprised to see white all over the ground in the patio!
Today I started my week at Escuela Luz y Vida (Light and Life School). It went well. There wasn't any force feeding of children; these all eat well: I think they understand the value of food a little more than the wee ones do. The kids are very sweet and very difficult. I'm assisting a teacher in a class of five boys, all of whom are basically special needs kids. Whew! (or as we say here: uysh!)
How many times during one day can you possibly hear "PROFE!" yelled? And supposedly be able to distinguish which of the teachers is being summoned? And then have some sort of response to whatever the situation is, whether it be a disagreement, a need for help with school work, permission to go to the bathroom, to be pushed on the swings, or just some attention?
This morning, when we arrived with the ruta (bus route to pick up and drop off kids), the first thing we did was go play on the playground while waiting for the others to arrive (we were a bit early). While there, a street man walked through, searching the trashcans. Here, many of the foods and condiments that we have in jars in the States come in bags (jam, ketchup, milk). It broke my heart to watch him squeezing a yogurt bag for any last drop that might have remained inside.
This afternoon, because of rain, it took longer than usual for the ruta to drop everyone off and arrive back at the office, where I stay. We left around 2:40 and didn't get here until 5:00, at which time I went straight to the grocery store. I wasn't until probably an hour later, when the Tuesday pastry lady rang the bell to sell us delicious pastelillos filled with chicken, that I reached in my pocket and found: Jose's keys. He's one of the boys in the class I helped with today, and I kept his keys for him when they fell out of his pocket while playing. I hope he had somewhere to go until his Mom got home and let him in. Que pena...
Thursday, February 12, 2009
what I've been doing this week
Tuesday through Friday:
Wake up at 6:00, shower?, dress, eat, the bus is here to pick us up already? -- run!, look out the window as the city passes by – from the north to the city center, drop off workers at the school, arrive in the Santa Fe neighborhood, get off the bus at the drop in center, help make breakfast, drink coffee, kids arrive!, greetings, prayer, serve breakfast, stay in your seat!, eat your food!, eat it all!, sing, lessons, a million visits to the bathroom with kids, crowd control, helping with lessons, snack, crowd control, another lesson or maybe game time, crowd control crowd control crowd control, let’s go to the park!, pushing kids on the swing, crowd control, helping kids across the monkey bars, don’t hit each other!, don’t play with trash!, stay on the blacktop!, curing hurts, it’s so-and-so’s turn on the swing!, go down the slide, not up!, time for lunch (finally)!, wash up, prayer, serve food, eat food, force feed small children, make sure everyone eats everything, lesson or play time, games, is it time to go yet? no?, bathroom visits, playtime, it’s so-and-so’s turn with this!, share the blocks!, time to go? okay, clean up!, does everyone have everything?, get on the bus with kids, go south to drop of some kids, ride about an hour back across the city, finally we’re back at the house!!, eat, hang out, play and talk, eat, hang out, shower?, talk, read, SLEEP.
Wake up at 6:00, shower?, dress, eat, the bus is here to pick us up already? -- run!, look out the window as the city passes by – from the north to the city center, drop off workers at the school, arrive in the Santa Fe neighborhood, get off the bus at the drop in center, help make breakfast, drink coffee, kids arrive!, greetings, prayer, serve breakfast, stay in your seat!, eat your food!, eat it all!, sing, lessons, a million visits to the bathroom with kids, crowd control, helping with lessons, snack, crowd control, another lesson or maybe game time, crowd control crowd control crowd control, let’s go to the park!, pushing kids on the swing, crowd control, helping kids across the monkey bars, don’t hit each other!, don’t play with trash!, stay on the blacktop!, curing hurts, it’s so-and-so’s turn on the swing!, go down the slide, not up!, time for lunch (finally)!, wash up, prayer, serve food, eat food, force feed small children, make sure everyone eats everything, lesson or play time, games, is it time to go yet? no?, bathroom visits, playtime, it’s so-and-so’s turn with this!, share the blocks!, time to go? okay, clean up!, does everyone have everything?, get on the bus with kids, go south to drop of some kids, ride about an hour back across the city, finally we’re back at the house!!, eat, hang out, play and talk, eat, hang out, shower?, talk, read, SLEEP.
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