AGAIN!?

Just two days ago I was thinking to myself, wow I am feeling good and I haven't been sick for like 3 weeks. I hope I can stay healthy for the last 3 weeks of my time here...

NOPE

Today I am not feeling very well and took a five hour nap.

I don't know why I got sick. It could be the not so wonderful diet I enjoyed while at the beach or the night of missed sleep in an uncomfortable hotel room, or the day I spent in the barrio yesterday. Who knows. I just want to finish strong.

Poverty

Poverty surrounds me not just the I can't go out to the movies but the ALL we have to eat is rice or I wish we had rice kind of poverty. The water has not made it to my street so I can't flush the toilet. My kid isn't growing and there is no electricity, three to a be and 80 degrees at night with mosquitoes pecking at me hope I don't get dengue fever poverty. My only pass-time is gossip and anger and somehow I have $ to get drunk. This is the poverty that surrounds me. The streets flood and we all lock ourselves in for the night hoping for sun in the morning. Just this week I sat in a house where the grandma was/is doing her best to care for her grand kids while one of her daughters bickers and fights like an eleven year old only she is at least 30. The swatting and cursing becomes abusive after you pass a certain age and your victims remain younger and younger. 


But I see hope in a 15 year old's eyes. He is going to make it. Determination that he will not be a slave in poverty. Strength and tenderness, affection and love. He will over come and change the cycle. No aunt will ever hit his child while they sit playing at the table.

Innocent Lives

Eric and I have started reading Philippians together. I thought I would share my reflections on Chapter 2.

What does it mean to live innocent lives? Does it mean to steer clear of vices that are taboo in our culture? I have to believe that it has more to do with how we treat each other. the context of this chapter is all about humility and unity. Have I really emptied myself? Given up my rights for what is good?! Do I complain and argue removing innocence from my life?

Living outside of the American individualism shows me just how far I have to go before I can really understand what it means to empty myself and not claim my rights so that others can know God the Father.

"

Anticipation

Waiting, passing time, filling space these are hard things for me to do. I like to feel purposeful. I like to have a mission. I am not the most patient person, especially if my patience needs to be applied to time. Today is 5 weeks and 2 days from when we will be leaving for Portland and I can not believe that it has only been one week since Eric posted his blog! Although a lot has happened in this week. Namely I had an interview with an employer I would really like to work for. BUT now I have to WAIT, PASS TIME, AND FILL SPACE for two big events, the moving date and getting a call letting me know if I have a job or not. You can imagine the tension. I am trying to focus my energy in a positive way and get out and visit people. Also I am attempting to exercise in some fashion every day. Last weekend was great going and relaxing in the mountains. Next weekend we may have a practice packing day!

6 Weeks, 1 Day

You might expect this adventure to be getting easier, but it’s not. With only 6 weeks to go I find that I still have mornings when I don’t want to get out of bed, walk down the street, or interact with the world. I still daydream about my favorite restaurants and food carts, and have long bouts of nostalgia centered on Portland and all the good times I’ve had there. In the back of my head I know that my kids at school will continue to test my limits, and their behavior at the end of the year will more than likely get a little worse rather than get a little better. I wish this DVD could “skip” to the next scene.

It’s hard to walk through the barrio. The clutch pedal on the TEARS bike broke recently, so I’m loaning my motorcycle to Alberto. This gives the occasion to walk through the barrio to get to church and whatnot. I walk through the barrio and have no hard time wondering why Kisha has started getting sick again; the air is thick with pungent toxins that give me a bit of a headache just thinking about them. There aren’t any real sidewalks, and people drive up and down Principal like it’s a highway instead of a residential area. The noise is unlike anything else I’ve ever known, with competing stereos, motorcycles that have removed the muffler, people yelling, and the occasional popping sound of a kid playing with homemade fireworks. I basically can’t talk to anyone while we walk, and if people ask me a question in the street, I usually have them repeat it at least once. In short, it’s a lot like my classroom at SCS :0)

I think you really have to be called to Maria Auxilliadora to be okay with working there. It’s a place full of foreign people, foreign words, and a foreign way of living life. Kisha does just fine in this environment, talking with people, saying hello, and—I know you’re not gonna believe this—being a social butterfly. You can hear little girls and teenage boys and old timers calling her name as you walk with her, and she’s close to celebrity status.

I hear Oregon calling me back home. Honestly, I would have come home sooner if it wasn’t occupational suicide to quit in the middle of the year as a teacher. So now I’m just waiting, but it’s kind of a long time to wait because I’ve already been waiting for so long. It’s interesting to think that this has been the longest time that I’ve been away since we moved to Portland 15 years ago. I used to think of our family as somewhat nomadic, what with the frequency in which we moved around. But it seems we’ve scratched out a little corner on the west side, and being gone for too long is something of a problem. My daydreams include Lebanese, Indian, Mexican, Moroccan, Thai, Gourmet Pizza, Chinese, Vietnamese, and some good Portland vegan grub. I’d love to hook up with people when we get back, break bread (or noodles, or burritos, or whatever depending on the restaurant :0)

James... James Bond

Let me introduce you to a new friend of mine...

There is a Canadian team here from Calgery. They are froming a relationship with our Haitian pastor so we have spent our time in the Soto Barrio. On our first day there a young man was talking to one of the team members and I helped translate. He introduced himself as James.

James is 20 years old has been learning Spanish for a year so we were communicating in both of ours second language. James requested any materials I might have to help him learn English. Since I had some books that could help the next day I brought them to the church and gave them to the associate pastor. Manuel did not know who James is. Now that made me wonder. So I took Manuel to the window and pointed at him. "OHHHHH Congo!" Alright so now I have a new name that the community will know Congo... not that unusual here as everyone has a street name and their proper name.

In the after noon we are sitting in a circle and I am translating for the team. Now here comes James--I mean Congo. When some of the team greets him by saying Hi James! A Dominican who is with us says, "his name is not James it's Tony!" Wait a second, hey Congo why did you tell me your name was James... He giggles as the Dominican says "He wants to be James Bond"

So meet Tony, Congo, James Bond...

Photo Journey

Waves Near Sosua Bay




Rentals at Encuentro Beach




Sosua




Yuli the New Mommy




Kisha & Our Godson, Eric




Alex & His New Son




Hammock Time




Kisha's Dog Art