learning to expect the unexpected

(photo of a street in Quibdo)
I want to start this entry with giving thanks, giving thanks to God for this life, for these experiences and these wonderful gifts that arrive in the most unique and unexpected forms and to all my friends and family who have touched my life is so many incredible ways. And also to nature with all of its beauty and grandeur that never ceases to amaze.

I just returned from Quibdo, a trip I was so excited to take. I was anticipating spending time with a priest I thought to be incredible and have an experience that imagined would blow me out of the water. And it did, just not anywhere close to how I had imagined in my head it would play out.

(photo of a professor, Padre Edison, myself and a eager English student at the university)
I was trying to keep my attitude afloat and have as many positive thoughts about this trip as possible, although I was having difficulty transcending out of my funk. The first night was rough, sleeping under a mosquito net, in what felt like the most hot and humid place on the planet, which did not start me out on the right side of the bed the next morning. Then to be led around town presented to just about every person in the city as here to teach English, threw me off a bit.

My attitude began to even out as we began teaching English at the grade school, at the college, any friend of Edison's we met on the street, after the church service and with the soccer team. As the hours passed each day the more people we were meeting and the more welcomed I felt, everyone was so kind and I found sulking in my funk difficult. Staying with Edison and his wonderfully, delightful family, his wife with one of the lightest and most jovial spirits I have encountered, and his son and daughter, taught me more than I could have hoped.

(photo of meat and fruit in a store)
What really took me by surprise (blew me out of the water) was the encounter I had with personal boundaries in Quibdo, which are much different than those I grew up knowing. The personal boundaries I grew up knowing were basically classifying things, stuff, people, time and space with the concept of "yours and mine." Well, in Quibdo this isn’t quite the case, ‘personal space/boundaries’ aren't really understood in the same way I had understood them to be, the mentality isn't 'yours and mine' as much as it is ‘ours.'

The first time I experienced the boundary breaking I was a bit thrown off. Then I put myself to thinking about where this right, this sense of entitlement comes from? It seems to me that when we begin seeing things in this dimension of ‘mine and yours’ we become more defensive with our ‘possessions,’ slowly separating ourselves from one another and become exclusive with our sharing. If you have something good, why not share it, why not be excited to scatter joy and goodness, rather then hoard? Changing my state of mind has made a huge difference, realizing the more we divide ourselves into 'yours and mine,' the further we grow apart, the less we see this is ours, our place, our world to live, share and be together.

life in the bat cave and beyond

A pipe in the building broke so our water has been a bit temperamental the past few days. Last night we had absolutely no water, this morning from the sinks it came out as a bit of a trickle (we don’t get hot water in the sinks, there is only one knob and it’s the cold one), and the shower was a weak stream of scalding, scalding hot water. The way our shower works is if you turn the single knob on full blast you get very cold water but fantastic water pressure and if you barely, literally barely turn the knob you loose the pressure but you get warm water. Which is what I usually opt for, then end up running teeth chattering and all back to my warm bed. The pipes are in the process of being fixed, which works out to be perfect timing as we are leaving town for a few days...

Today my morning began a bit earlier than it does on a normal “work in the office” day. Laura-Catherine and I are heading to Quibdo, Chocó and of course there are all those last minute errands to run on the list, and hopefully I’ll be getting this blog posted with as few typos as possible.

I know very little information about Quibdo. When I visited Medellin back in October I attended Padre Edison’s ordination, Edison is the priest in Quibdo. I remember being a little intimated by this over 6 foot tall Spanish speaking man until he came up to me after his ordination. His kind voice and welcoming manner instantly put me at ease. He began practicing his English and helping another shy kid to practice his English with me also. It was just what I needed; I could throw in the bit of Spanish I was confident enough to use and was more than happy to help them with their English.

Padre Edison invited me to visit him in Quibdo that night. I felt a connection with him and was surprised that even though I was nervous and a little unsure of my Spanish that didn’t really matter, sometimes language has nothing to do with understanding nor communication. When I returned back to Bogota, I explained to Pilar that I wanted to visit the priest who was ordained in Medellin as soon as possible. Unfortunately, I already had other trips planned and my budget would not allow it and eventually this dream drifted to the back of my mind until…

Diocesan Convention in March we met up again! After spending the weekend with him and getting to know even more of this incredible person, this time I decided of everything I want to do before I leave Colombia, visiting Padre Edison is number one on the list. So it is finally happening today at noon we get on the flight to go visit a part of the country unlike any other. What I do know is the government of Colombia has very much neglected department (a department is similar to a state in the US) it is very impoverished and humid. I'll be back in 10 days. With love.