Three stories about Motorcycles

“I am a traveler on the way to a sacred place where God holds me in the palm of his hand.” 

-Henri Nouwen

Motorcycles are the main source of transportation here in Libertad. Well, motorcycles and donkeys. But I’m not as good on a donkey as on a motorcycle. 

Throughout my time in here, I’ve had some pretty interesting experiences on the motorcycle. Here are three examples:

1) The time I tried to carry two cakes for three hours on a motorcycle

My friend Aleja celebrated her birthday in September and threw a big party for the whole community where she lives. As she was making food for over 100 people, she decided that she wouldn’t be able to also have cake. However, she also told me that a birthday is not a birthday without cake.

So I decided to bring her cake to celebrate her birthday.

But she lives three hours from where I live…

So, being a person that thoroughly thinks through everything (note sarcasm), I had my friend in Libertad make two cakes, as big as possible, since we needed enough cake for over 100 people. My idea was to leave them in the pans and just decorate the top so that they wouldn’t be destroyed in the journey (I was thinking a little bit). However, as things often don’t go as planned, one of the cakes didn’t turn out well so my friend had to use the same pan for both cakes. So I had two beautifully decorated cakes to bring to Aleja for her birthday.

We set out early, because we also had to run some errands around Sincelejo beforehand (an extra hour with two massive cakes on my lap). I started out alright, the cakes in boxes, the boxes in a bag, and the bag on my leg.

Ten minutes in, I knew it was a bad idea. But all we could do was continue.

When we finally arrived at Aleja’s, I was afraid to open the boxes and find two completely smashed cakes. However, I was surprised to find that although the decorations were completely destroyed, the cakes themselves were fine!

Ruined cake

With a little fix up work (well, a completely new frosting job), they looked just like new!

Fixed cake!

And Aleja was very excited to have cake. As was the community. And it was delicious!

But never again will I carry cake on a moto.

2) The time we paid 1000 pesos to carry the motorcycle across an arroyo

It has been a very dry year this year, but the other day it rained. And I mean it rained.

I was supposed to head out of town to meet people from the office in Mampujan early in the morning, but since it was raining, we couldn’t leave. It began raining at 6 am and didn’t let up until 11. At noon, we decided it would be okay to try to go.

The road one takes to enter and leave Libertad is not paved, therefore when it rains like this day, it is quite spectacularly filled with mud. I absolutely trust my driver, so I had no doubt that we’d make it okay, but it certainly was an adventure.

Then we arrived at the arroyo…

There is a spot just a little bit after the next town where, on a normal day, there is just a little trickle of water over the rocks, but after a rain the water rushes quite strongly. And this day it was rushing.

Waiting for the arroyo to calm down.

We spent about twenty minutes watching it with the others, waiting for it to go down a little bit. The young men kept offering to carry the moto across for us for 1000 pesos (about 50 cents). Finally we accepted.

See them carrying the moto?

After the moto was safely across, we all wadded through, holding hands in a line as not to be swept away. The water reached up to my thighs.

We paid the 1000 pesos and continued on our way through the mud. By the time we reached our destination, the wind had already dried us out.

3) The time I fell off the motorcycle into the same arroyo to protect fish

The other day, the director of Sembrandopaz asked me to do him the favor of bringing him some fish from Libertad to Sincelejo since the fish is cheaper here (and fresher- they catch them right here!)

Not a problem.

But… then the Styrofoam cooler cracked and the handle broke, so before we started out to Sincelejo (at 4:30 in the morning, mind you), we put the cooler in a sack. This made it very difficult to grab on to (also, realize that this cooler is quite large and filled with ten kilos of fish and ice on top of that).

It was very similar to my experience with the cakes… Ten minutes in and I knew it was going to be a very long morning.

Then we reached the same arroyo that we paid to cross the moto. This morning there was no rushing water, just some water pooled between the rocks. However, a combination of the darkness (remember it was 4:30 am), the rocks, and the way the cooler made balance difficult… we lost control a little bit.

No, really, it was just me that lost control a little. The driver was fine. He was super surprised to look back and see me, flat on my back, clutching the cooler, in the water pooled between the rocks.

“Lani! Cómo te caiste!?” “Lani, how did you fall!?”

Let’s just say, I am very faithful to the director of Sembrandopaz and I was not going to let those fish fall! So, when they started to go, I went with them.

“Lani, te mojaste?” “Lani, did you get wet?”

Did I get wet!? Ha! I was soaking wet, backpack, pants, sweater… But hey! I wasn’t hurt! So I hopped back on the moto and we continued on safely to where I catch the bus, put the fish in the back, nabbed a seat, and promptly fell asleep (still sopping wet).

Now, it had still been dark when I got on the bus so I didn’t actually see myself until I woke up in Sincelejo and got off the bus.

And what a disaster I was! The water I fell in was super dirty and therefore I was super dirty. How embarrassing to try to get someone to stop to bring me on a motorcycle with a cooler full of fish in a bag, wet, dirty, and smelling disgusting. The guy who stopped looked at me like I was insane.

My coworkers also looked at me like I was insane when I arrived.

“It’s only 7:30 in the morning, Lani! What sort of trouble could you have possibly already gotten yourself into!?”

But the fish made it safe and sound! :)

Three stories about Yuca

“For me, I am driven by two main philosophies: know more today about the world than I knew yesterday and lessen the suffering of others. You'd be surprised how far that gets you.” 

― Neil deGrasse Tyson

Yuca is a common root starch that we eat here. I think that in English it is cassava… But I really had never heard of it before living here. Now it is something very common, eaten with breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It is a staple in every potluck the community has; I love helping peel the yuca at the olla comunitarias! They made fun of me at first because I was really bad at it, but I have definitely improved. 

Peeling yuca at an olla comunitaria

As I said, yuca is very common here and it is found in all aspects of life. Here are three yuca stories from my time in Libertad so far:

1) The time I tried not to eat yuca

When Aleja and I first arrived to the coast, we were inundated by yuca. We ate it all the time in the communities. The first time we left the communities to go back to Sincelejo, we decided to not eat any yuca. We ate bread, apples, good coffee… things we don’t have easy access to where we live.

That night, the office had a fancy dinner for all of us. One of our coworkers made a special juice to celebrate. We all drank it, commenting on its deliciousness, asking what type of juice it was. We guessed all sorts of fruits and vegetables; someone even guessed spaghetti… Finally we gave up and she told us: YUCA!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

So when we tried not to eat yuca, we drank yuca.

But now, we both love yuca and when we are traveling out of the communities, we miss the fresh yuca that we have access to here.

Yes... I even eat yuca with mac and cheese.

2) The time the kid came up with the best coping skill ever

One of the things I do in town is lead a psychosocial support group for some kids in the school. We cover all sorts of topics, from team work to affective education to self esteem to coping skills. When we were talking about coping skills I asked the kids to tell me what they do when they are feeling sad, frustrated, nervous, or scared. They said things like dance, play with friends, talk to a parent, walk, listen to music, pull yuca…

What?!

Pull yuca.

ABSOLUTELY! Pulling yuca takes force and strength and it would positively be a fantastic way to get out anger. It’s probably one of the best coping skills I have ever heard and it is something I would have never heard if I didn’t live here.

3) The time the kids taught me how to play The Yuca

I spend a lot of time with kids. We just get each other. And they always put me in a good mood.

The other night, I was just doing some stoop sitting when some kids surrounded me. After they read me a book and brushed my hair for a while, I asked them what we should play.

“Yuca!” they all screamed.

Interesting… yuca is a game the kids play? I was intrigued.

It begins with deciding who will be the seller and who will be the buyer; the rest of the kids are yuca. The kids who are yuca grab onto a nearby post and cling on for dear life. The buyer comes up to the seller says, “Sell me yuca.”

The seller says, “What happened to the yuca I sold you yesterday?”

“The mice ate it.”

“Why weren’t you paying attention?”

Here the kid makes up some excuse: “I was washing clothes,” “I was sweeping the patio,” “I was in the fields,” etc.

Then the seller gives the buyer the go ahead and he or she grabs a kid/yuca and pulls until the kid lets go of the group.

The process repeats: “Sell me yuca.” “What happened to the yuca from yesterday?” “The mice ate it.” “Why weren’t you paying attention?” Excuse. Pull up a yuca kid.

When all the yuca is pulled up, the game changes. Now the kids that were yuca become dogs. The buyer passes by where the seller is and the seller asks, “And the money?”

The buyer makes up an excuse: “I left it on the shelf,” “I left it in the laundry machine,” “I left it in the sink,” etc.

Finally the seller says, “The next time I will send the dogs after you!”

When the buyer passes by again, all the kids chase after the buyer until they catch him.

Spectacular.

Definitely my new favorite game.

Let's play The Yuca!

Chikengunya Update

"My own experience and development deepen every day my conviction that our moral progress may be measured by the degree in which we sympathize with individual suffering and individual joy." 

-George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans)

In the last chikengunya post, I said I had the light version… While it is still true that when I had the first stage of the sickness I was very lucky and did not get super sick, this second part as me in its clutches.

The thing is, it’s not the kind of sickness where you get sick and get better.

No. It continues. And continues.

Some say the symptoms last for three months. Others have told me a year. Three years.

I chose to believe three months because I am an optimist.

But boy am I ready for these three months to be over.

It’s my feet and hands that are doing me in. It is bizarre. Walking literally hurts when I wake up. Every morning, I lay in bed for two minutes, giving myself a little pep talk…

“You can do it Lani, the first few steps are hard, but there is a whole fabulous day ahead of you! Let’s go! You can do it!”

And then I laugh at myself when I start walking because it is simply ridiculous how much it hurts and how goofy I look.  After getting my joints warmed up, it’s not that bad. It’s sore, as if I had spent too much time on my feet and need to rest, except I haven’t spent too much time on my feet.

Going down stairs is undesirable.

Walking again after sitting a while is tough.

Getting off the moto… not fun.

Sweeping is hard because of the wrist motion.

Opening jars and unlocking my door is a difficult task because of the finger joint pain.

I tried to give a high five to a kiddo and afterwards decided not to try it again.

It’s just ridiculous. And I’m ready for it to be over.

But, as I said in the last post, everyone has it. Not everyone is affected in the same way, but we all have pain that comes and go.

My friend who always drives me on the moto had three days of pain in his right index finger.

My Libertad mom has continuous pain in her right foot.

I don’t know why I have it in both feet and both hands! I feel like the weakest person! My neighbor calls me “Chikenguya” because every morning when I go over to drink coffee I am walking like an elderly person. Even when I try to walk normally, my joints just aren’t working correctly!

But we all suffer together and laugh about it. People are still surprised when they find out that I have chikengunya too. I’m not sure why they think I would be exempt… But, it is a good bonding experience. We are all living through it together.

However, I still recommend avoiding it if possible!

Chicken-what?

 “I am surrounded by so many safety systems that I would not be allowed to become truly poor. If I were to become seriously ill, I would be sent back to the United States and given the best possible treatment.  As soon as my life or health were really threatened, I would have any people around me willing to protect me.”  Henri Nouwen, Gracias! (January 20, 1982 p. 115)

While a large part of the world is focused on the Ebola epidemic, those of us in the Caribbean are dealing with a different sickness: Chikunguña.

"What is Chikunguña?" you ask. Good question. I'm not even really sure. I know it is a mosquito spread sickness, similar to dengue. Its symptoms are fever, headache, rash, joint pain, swelling, and sometimes vomiting and diarrhea.

When I arrived in Libertad after my vacation, the big news was Chikunguña. Wherever I went, people told me about what symptoms they had when they had Chikunguña, what their children's symptoms were like, how they thought their parents weren't going to survive it (no one in Libertad has died from it, FYI). I only went to one house where they said that Chikunguña had not affected anyone. The next day, that house also was hit.  Literally 100% of the people I talked with had been sick with Chikunguña.

I knew it was just a matter of time until I got it too.

And I did. It started with a little swelling in my left ankle and spots all over my legs. People made fun of me because since I have fair skin, I turned red, a symptom they hadn't seen in anyone else.

See all those little red dots?  Yup. 

Can you tell which ankle swelled?

When my program facilitators found out that I had beginning symptoms, they told me to go to Sincelejo, the largest city nearby. I was upset and frustrated by this; if everyone (no exaggeration there) in the town got sick and got better in town, why should I have to leave? Why should I get to leave? My supportive boyfriend told me, "Probably nothing bad will happen to you, but maybe something bad will happen to you, so you should go." That's paraphrasing, but you can feel the love.

In the end, I understand that they are responsible for me and, in the event that I did get really sick, it is very hard to get out of Libertad to get good medical care. So I went to Sincelejo, where I got the fever and waited for the pain. People spoke of excruciating, unsupportable pain. Also of insatiable itching.

I didn't get either. While I had spots everywhere and turned red, I never felt the urge to scratch. I also never had intolerable pain. I certainly was sore, sort of like after a hard work out, but not in pain.

But even though I didn't feel the pain, for some reason my extremities didn't work. I was very weak and tired, but what's more my feet and hands just didn't cooperate. I spent the day laughing at myself as I tried to walk, open doors, open my toothpaste, and, my personal favorite, wring out my recently washed clothes. I ended up just hanging my clothes up sopping wet because I didn't have the strength to wring them out!

My view all day Wednesday...
I was bored out of my mind,
but I had no energy to do anything!

I almost have all of my energy back now, but for some reason I am still walking around like a new born dinosaur and my hands failed the "open the package of spaghetti by yourself" test. I don't know why! I don't hurt, my hands and feet just don't work right!

However, I am happy because I get to go back to Libertad now and I've survived Chikunguña Lite (that's what I call it since I didn't have it very badly).

A Visit to My Other Home

“Wherever we are, it is our friends who make our world.” –Henry Drummond

At the beginning of October I had the opportunity to go to Minnesota and St. Louis to spend some time relaxing with my family, friends, and, of course, my boyfriend.  I had a great time seeing the beautiful fall leaves, running around the lake, drinking Caribou Coffee, catching up with friends, eating hamburgers filled with peanut butter, pumpkin pancakes, and cereal, surprising my cousins at school, agate hunting with my brother, and just relaxing with my family.  After a week in Minnesota, I went to St. Louis where I spent much needed quality time with Ken.  I certainly am a lucky girl to have a guy like him supporting me!  At the end of my time in St. Louis one of my best friends from college got married.  I am so grateful that I was able to be a part of her wedding!  Congrats Erin and Will!  

Overall it was a great time.  Strangely, the thing that I was most obsessed with while home was drinking fountains.  I could not walk passed a drinking fountain without drinking from it.  How awesome is it that drinkable water comes out whenever you push the button?!  So great!  I am quickly getting used to being without drinking fountains again since they have not been putting the water on very often in Libertad these days and I have been having to borrow from neighbors...  And that water isn't even drinkable anyway!  Haha!  

But honestly I love being back.  People ask if I was sad to leave, if I was dreading coming back, and the answer is absolutely not!  It is always hard to leave loved ones, but I love being here and I have a strong community here that loves and supports me as well!  I love being in the US with my family and friends, but when I am there I miss being in Colombia.  In Colombia I am so happy in the communities and I love the work, but I miss my family and friends.  So either way I am happy and miss something.  But that is life!

So here we go for another year here!

With my grandparents, enjoying fall

A freezing cold boat ride on Christmas Lake

Agate hunting in the rain with my brother

I finally got to meet Audrey- isn't she beautiful!?

Ready for a wedding!

The beautiful bride

Hippos!

A trip to the zoo with Ken

A Year in Review

"Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:4-7

Recently I visited the US for a quick trip to see my family, friends, and boyfriend.  It was fantastic to receive so much loving and energy from so many people!  Thank you to everyone!

On Sunday, the pastor invited me to share a bit about the past year in Colombia.  The following are the reflections that I shared with the congregation, and now I share with you:

This past year I have learned:

1. to ride a donkey.

2. to drive a motorcycle.

3. to make coconut rice, fried plantains, and sweets out of crops like yuca and ñame.

4. to sleep through blasting music, singing roosters, and machines processing rock to make blocks.

5. how much and how quickly dust accumulates in my house and how much I don’t like to mop.

6. to manage living with water that doesn’t always turn on, showering with a bucket and saving water to cook and clean in tanks or pots or pails.

7. to drink coffee with so much sugar that it doesn’t even taste like coffee.

8. to milk a cow.

9. to simply sit and enjoy the company of those around me.

10. but not to believe everything I hear, as rumors and gossip are a major part of the town communication.

11. when it is appropriate to wear flip flops and when I need to wear sandals.

12. the fear and struggle of farmers who do not have land to farm and whose crops all have died due to drought.

13. the desperation of families with no source of income and no opportunities to work, requiring the families to split up in order for members to find work where they can in other parts of Colombia.

14. how guerrilla groups and paramilitary troops were formed.

15. about the laws dealing with transitional justice, reparations, restitution of land, and reconciliation.

16. about the stories of massacres, displacements, sexual violence, and human rights abuses from the mouths of people I love.

17. the complexities of politics and the corruption from the national level to my small town.

18. the patience necessary for doing things the way the system requires and the frustration that even though we do what they ask, they don’t do what they promise.

19. that it is possible for whole communities to organize themselves and demand their rights.

20. the healing power of a hug.

21. how much hope and energy I receive just from watching kids jump rope in my house, throw a Frisbee in my patio, or make faces for a picture.

22. that even though there is hunger, poverty, limited education and labor opportunities, racism, oppression, false promises, and corruption, there is still so much happiness, sharing, and hope for a different future.

23. that the violence and conflict in Colombia is not over but there are many who believe in and are working for a Colombia in peace.

24. the importance of depending on God in all situations and bringing everything to God in prayer.

All of these lessons have taught me the beauty ad the difficulty of living in a small town affected by violence on the Caribbean coast, and the importance and power of prayer, so I'm going to end with three prayer requests:

1. For rain as many of the farming communities are facing a very difficult future for the lack of rain

2. Wisdom, patience, and energy for the community leaders

3. Peace and healing throughout the country

Gracias!... Then and Now

I just finished reading Henri Nouwen’s journal from his time in Bolivia and Peru in 1981/1982, published in a book called “¡Gracias!” I was struck by how many times I felt that he had written out my thoughts exactly; it was as if I were reading my own diary documenting my time in Colombia now instead of Peru in 1981… How crazy is it that three decades later I am experiencing such similar situations, emotions, and challenges? It was comforting to know that someone else has struggled with the same things, but at the same time frustrating to know that oppression, poverty, and injustice are just as present as ever.

The following quotes are some that I really identify with… There are quite a few, but it really provides a good window into my life in Colombia, the emotions involved in living in a different culture, and reflections on faith and ministry.

I highly recommend the book, especially for those thinking about living in a different culture! (Thanks Christopher for recommending it to me!)


“The great paradox of ministry, therefore, is that we minister above all with our weakness, a weakness that invites us to receive from those to whom we go. The more in touch we are with our own need for healing and salvation, the more open we are to receive in gratitude what others have to offer us. The true skill of ministry is to help fearful and often oppressed men and women become aware of their own gifts, by receiving them in gratitude. In that sense, ministry becomes a skill of active dependency: willing to be dependent on what others have to give but often do not realize they have.” October 31, 1981 (p. 19)

“How little do we really know the power of physical touch. These boys and girls only wanted one thing: to be touched, hugged, stroked, and caressed. Probably most adults have the same needs but no longer have the innocence and unselfconsciousness to express them. Sometimes I see humanity as a sea of people starving for affection, tenderness, care, love, acceptance, forgiveness, and gentleness. Everyone seems to cry: ‘Please love me.’ The cry becomes louder and the response so inaudible that people kill each other and themselves in despair. The little orphans tell more than they know. If we don’t love one another, we kill one another. There’s no middle road.” November 17, 1981 (p. 44)

“Community develops where we experience that something significant is taking place where we are. It is the fruit of the intimate knowledge that we are together, not because of a common need… but because we are called together to help make God’s presence visible to the world.” December 7, 1981 (p. 66)

“Letters are gifts, often greater than the writers realize… ‘The Word was made flesh, he lived among us’ (John 1:14). These words by St. John received new life for me during my last months here. A word of love sent to me by a friend can indeed become flesh and bridge long distances of time and space. Such a word can heal pains, bind wounds, and often give new life. Such a word can even restore a faltering faith and make me aware that in the community of love, the incarnation of the divine love can be realized wherever we are.” January 20, 1982 (p. 115)

“Right now, I would be physically, mentally, and spiritually unable to survive without the opportunity to break away from it all once in a while. All the functions of life, which previously hardly required attention, are complicated and time-consuming operations here: washing, cooking, writing, cleaning, and so on. The winds cover everything with thick layers of dust; water has to be hauled up in buckets from below and boiled to be drinkable; three is seldom a moment of privacy, with kids walking in and out all the time, and the thousands of loud sounds make silence a faraway dream. I love living here, but I am also glad that I can escape it for two hours a day and for one day a week. Living here not only makes me aware that I have never been poor, but also that my whole way of being, thinking, feeling, and acting is molded by a culture radically different from the one I live in now.” January 20, 1982 (p. 115)

“I am surrounded by so many safety systems that I would not be allowed to become truly poor. If I were to become seriously ill, I would be sent back to the United States and given the best possible treatment. As soon as my life or health were really threatened, I would have any people around me willing to protect me.” January 20, 1982 (p. 115)

“I am not poor as my neighbors are. I will never be and will not ever be allowed to be by those who sent me here. I have to accept my own history and live out my vocation, without denying that history. On the other hand, I realize that the way of Christ is a self-emptying way. What that precisely means in my own concrete life will probably remain a lifelong question.” January 20, 1982 (p. 116)

“Poverty is so much more than lack of money, lack of food, or lack of decent living quarters. Poverty creates marginal people, people who are separated from that whole network of ideas, services, facilities, and opportunities that support human beings in times of crisis. When the poor get sick, have handicapped children, or are victims of an accident, no help sees available. The poor are left to their own minimal resources. It suddenly hit me how crucial it is for the poor to organize themselves into supportive communities.” January 22, 1982 (p. 118)

“The children always challenge me to live in the present. They want me to be with them here and now, and they find it hard to understand that I might have other things to do or to think about… I have suddenly discovered the great healing power of children… I marvel at their ability to be fully present to me. Their uninhibited expression of affection and their willingness to receive it pull me directly into the moment and invite me to celebrate life where it is found… I now realize that only when I enter with the children into their joy will I be able to enter also with them into their poverty and pain. God obviously wants me to walk into the world of suffering with a little child on each hand.” January 28, 1982 (p. 123)

“Parties, buses, roosters, bread boys, and loudspeakers keep the sounds floating through the night and the early morning… Now these sounds have become a familiar background noise that no longer interrupts my sleep, my prayers, or my reading, but simply reminds me in my roof-room that I am in the middle of a world of people who have to struggle not only hard, but also loudly in order to survive.” February 1, 1982 (p. 127)

“All you have is yourself, so do not hide it from those you love.” February 3, 1982 (p. 129)

“The emotions of loneliness, isolation, and separation are as strong today as they were yesterday… What I am craving is not so much recognition, praise, or admiration, as simple friendship… I realize that the only thing I really wanted was a handshake, an embrace, a kiss, or a smile.” February 6, 1982 (p. 131)

“When, however, God is with the poor and marginal, then I have to dare to go there, live there, and find him there. I now realize that I can be with people without having to make them think my thoughts and say my words. I can be free to listen and slowly discern where God shows his merciful face to me.” February 10, 1982 (p. 135)

“…for them, all of life is a long fiesta with God.” February 20, 1982 (p. 147)

“More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have the time and the freedom to practice this simple ministry of presence. Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to do something significant or to be a part of some impressive project is so strong… But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and to drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like the, but truly love them.” February 21, 1982 (p. 148)

“Maybe I do have to become a little more indifferent towards all these ups and downs, ins and outs of personal relationships and learn to rest more deeply on him who knows and loves me more than I know and love myself.” February 24, 1982 (p. 151)

“The great challenge, however, is to live and work out of gratitude. The Lord took on our guilt and saved us. In him the Divine work has been accomplished. The human missionary task is to give visibility to the Divine work in the midst of our daily existence. When we come to realize that our guilt has been taken away and that only God saves, then we are free to serve, then we are can live truly humble lives… Humility is the real Christian virtue. It means staying close to the ground (humus), to people, to everyday life, to what is happening, with all its down-to-earthness. It is the virtue that opens our eyes for the presence of God on the earth and allows us to live grateful lives.” March 5, 1982 (p. 162)

“There is always reason to hope, even when our eyes are filled with tears.” March 24, 1982 (p. 179)

Nouwen, Henri. “¡Gracias! A Latin American Journal.” Orbis Books: Maryknoll, NY. 1996.

A Commemoration

“In every community, there is work to be done. In every nation, there are wounds to heal. In every heart, there is power to do it.” –Marianne Williamson

This past weekend we held a commemoration in the community of Libertad. I talked a little bit about the history of violence in Libertad in my entry A Little Bit about Libertad and I mentioned that the people of the community itself were the ones that rid themselves of the paramilitaries. Unfortunately, they were pushed to the point of fighting violence with violence and killed one of the paramilitary members. June 14th marks the day of this event and this year marks the 10th anniversary of this day, so the community wanted to do something to recognize this day. However, nobody wanted to celebrate the death of a person, even a paramilitary member, so it was decided that instead the event would focus on the ten years of freedom and resistance to violence and armed groups that the community has since lived. 

The day before the event we invited the community to clean the public spaces such as the cemetery.

The day started off with a blessing at the bridge where the paramilitary member was killed. 

A plaque was presented in honor of the community and the victims that lost their lives during the violence.

Then we all marched together to the main plaza with candles and pictures of the people who were killed.

Soup for everyone!

Peeling yucca for the community soup.  So much yucca!

A drama presented by victims of sexual violence.

One of several dances that were presented.

Here is a picture of the men playing Truco (see More Classes for Lani), a traditional game that I am still trying to understand.

Being a part of the planning of this event was entertaining (one has to have that attitude here or it would just be incredibly stressful). There was lots of drama, complications, and frustrations, but it was really neat to see all of the organizations of Libertad working together to plan something for the community. In the end it turned out to be a fantastic event filled with beautiful moments honoring victims, wonderful speeches of hope, fantastic time playing traditional games, delicious food, and excellent dancing!

The Cats That Came and Went… And Came Back Again!

"Compassion, in which all ethics must take root, can only attain its full breadth and depth if it embraces all living creatures and does not limit itself to mankind." -Albert Schweitzer

Some may know that I had been looking for cats for a while to help with the mouse problem. Even though many people promised me cats, what I ended up with were pigeons. But then they flew away. And I still had mice. And cockroaches. And toads. But I already told that story.

However, suddenly, everyone had a cat for me and I had to start saying no to cats!

My first cat came from my friend’s neighbor. He is scrappy and adorable… and was living three hours away! But the woman was so excited to give him to me, so I accepted and traveled with him in a box for two hours on motorcycle and an hour in a silent bus. The entire time we were on the moto he tried to jump out of the box and the entire time on the bus he meowed and meowed! I was so embarrassed! But we made it. And we had quite the bond by the time we got back to Libertad.

His name is Pichi, because he comes from Pichilin.

Pichi!

Then another friend told me that she had a cat for me and she was going to hand her over to me at the office… That meant another long bus and moto ride for me with a cat! Libertad thinks I’m crazy because I kept riding into town with boxes of kittens.

Her name is Carmita, because she comes from El Carmen.

Carmita!

This kitten was the complete opposite… she trembled the entire way and didn’t make a sound. When we got to the house, she hid in the corner while Pichi helped me unpack.

The difference between Pichi and Carmita at the beginning: notice Carmita hiding in the corner while Pichi helps me unpack.

The first night together they climbed up on my bed in the night and slept on my face. After waking up with swollen eyes and sneezing all morning long, I decided that that was not going to happen again. I remembered that when we had a cat while I was growing up, we would splash him with water when he did something we didn’t want him to do, so I decided to try that method. The next night I went to bed with my cup of water at my side and every time they tried to get on the bed, I splashed them. But, man, those cats are resilient! I just ended up with a soaking wet bed and an awful night’s sleep. The third night, I kicked them out all together.

Not only do they chase away mice, but they kill lizards too...

In the morning, I could not find them. I called for them and I put out food, but nothing!

Then my neighbor opened his door and the little buddies ran out! “Vecina!” he said, “Your cats slept on my head all night!”

However, unlike me, he loves it. So now every night, Pichi and Carmita go over to spend the night at my neighbor’s house and everyone is happy.

Carmita loves TIME and Popular Science.

Unfortunately, I travel a lot for my work and that makes it difficult to care for the cats. One time when I came back from a trip to Mampuján, the kittens were nowhere to be found. I’d only had them for a week or so, but it was very sad to lose my companions. 

Carmita gets a little more daring!

They were missing for about a week when, one day as I was walking down the street to find some mangos, Pichi came running up to me meowing! I scooped him up and he was purring like crazy! So I brought him back to my house and my neighbor said that he had seen Carmita down the street too. He thinks that the neighbors stole them. So he went down to get her back and when I returned home, both the kittens were there safe and sound.

Now when I travel, my neighbor keeps his eye on them… and lets them sleep on his head.

And I have no more mice.

;)

Carmita is very loving and loves to hang out as close to me as possible!

They love each other.

And they love Ken!

Kittens are so funny when they play!

 And even funnier when they have playmates!