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.

10 incredible months and two more to enjoy

I had the opportunity to attend the Episcopal Church’s General Convention in Anaheim, California a few weeks back. Since returning to Bogota I have been digesting my experiences during convention and in Colombia. After a few days away from Colombia I returned feeling revived and inspired, especially after having had the opportunity at General Convention to share with others what Colombia is like. So aside from learning a great deal about the Episcopal Church, what really struck my heart was an overwhelming emotion for the United States and Colombia. The interest people in the states took in wanting to learn and be open about Colombia, offered hope that the perception of this greatly misunderstood country is changing one person at a time.

While in California I was asked many of the same questions I was asked before I left for my mission last September. Is it safe? The church wouldn’t send you somewhere that dangerous would they? What about all of the drugs and the cocaine in Colombia? And the guerrillas? The FARC? Aren’t you afraid of getting kidnapped? Before setting out for my mission I wasn’t exactly certain how I should be answering all of these questions, so I tried my best to respond with the little information I had educated myself with through the internet and stories of other travelers, hoping this would help bring some peace to my friends and family.

This time around when it came to answering to these same questions I was able to answer with honesty and experience. I was able to share all of the knowledge about this country I had; how incredibly hospitable, loving and kind everyone is. How wonderful, diverse and rich in culture this country is. And when you arrive in Colombia you will feel like you are living in a different world, not because everyone speaks a foreign language or because the food tastes different, but rather because of how the people will make you feel, welcomed, loved and cared for, stranger or not.

paint.

A few of the latest additions to the apartment are a lamp, light coverings, a bathroom rug, a luxurious cushioned toilet seat, a violet plant and robins egg blue, a lighter version of Robin’s egg blue and mint green walls. One of these days I will capture the beauty of this recent transformation the apartment has been subjected to, it is definitely something to share with the whole wide world.

Painting was a task bigger than we had anticipated, not because painting was a new experience for us, or the walls were huge or there was tons of detail to fill in, but for reasons having to do with the end result of the colors we ended up with. The colors on the paint chips were nothing even remotely close to the colors that ended up on our walls.

Just so we are all on the same page, revamping the apartment is something that Laura-Catherine and I have been talking about for awhile and to finally have in all of the proper supplies ready to go, we were almost unstoppable. There were four of us painting, three rollers and a brush, we all started in different rooms hoping to be efficient, conquering the entire apartment all at once, which actually ended up creating more work rather then less.

The color I started with turned out to be a decent green, I was happy and just kept right on painting. It wasn't until I stepped out of my own little world for a minute to take a break that I saw the robin’s egg blue in the breakfast nook(adjacent to the living room), then I checked the hallway and was struck by the bright mint green. I didn’t even try and hide my disappointment, or dislike for the new 80's remodel. Fortunately for us, the two colors least aesthetically pleasing colors matched, and the decent green was the one that clashed. After discussing this "minor issue" we settled on painting over the decent green by adding white to the breakfast nook color and painting the living room with that. The decent green was salvaged for our bedrooms, it was a bit dark for the size of the rooms so we added some white to lighten it. It has started to grow on me and matches the sofa so it isn't all that bad.

taking time to remember to remember

My inspiration for blogging recently have been on the lower end on my motivation scale. Unhappy with this, not understanding why, and trying to type up something that made sense for a blog entry was extremely frustrating and got worse the more I tried to reason with myself, the more I tried to figure ‘it’ out, literally the more I tried to force it, the worse it became. Many hours were spent typing gibberish, deleting, retyping and reading other blogs in search of anything, any small seed of inspiration I could get to grow. My goal was to have something posted last week, but Friday came around and still not luck, still no blog.

Then came Saturday, a gift from God. I had the entire day to myself and it was just wonderful. My family called in the morning from the lake to wish me a happy 4th of July, I found comfort in the warm blankets of my bed, movies in English, drawing/sketching and making my own food. I did not leave the apartment nor did I talk with anyone aside from the necessary, polite saludos. The day was perfect for catching up on my thinking, relaxing and just being with myself and God. This day reaffirmed that I need to provide myself with days like these more than every so often.

Sunday Padre Alberto picked us up early for a day at his parish in Bosa (the outskirts of Bogota). Laura-Catherine and I stepped out of the taxi on to the unpaved road and into the church with the tarped walls, dirt floor and patched tin roof. At the end of each service we introduced and explained who we are as missionaries and people and what we will be doing to help with the mission. Before I go any further, a little about the mission we will be helping with in Bosa: it is called Operation Rescue, created to rescue the children from the streets and from the television while their parents work literally from sunrise to sunset, if not longer leaving the children home alone before and after school.

We spent Monday, the opening day at the mission, as well. I am left inspired and at a loss of words. These two priests, Alberto and Alejandro have had a dream of starting a church and a mission like this, for who knows how long and have dedicated their lives to achieving this. About 2 years ago they were able to start regular church services in Bosa, and various other locations around Bogota, 7 services, 2 priests. Another thing you should know is that it is rare that a priest gets paid enough to live on which usually leads to many part time priests and a full time something else, lawyer, professor, police officer, etc... Alejandro and Alberto live solely on the generosity of the parishioners, which in some areas of the city is hardly anything. So to live off of this, support a family and build a mission from the ground up is very difficult, and very incredible.

What moves and inspires me above all of this is the dream, the passion and the love they live. It reminded me that it is not always easy, in fact more often than not dreams are difficult to achieve, but living and believing in them, in others and in yourself is what makes dreams come true.