finding my balance

My mind and heart have recently been weighted down with thoughts and questions as my relationships with my Colombian friends deepen and the children begin opening up. I wonder about how far would I go, what would I do in their situation, especially with such limited options and/or resources. Would you lie to save your child’s life, or your spouse’s life? To what extremes would you go to keep your child out of the war with a 70% mortality rate? How would you react when you find out it is a well know fact that a child is being beaten? How far do you jump into life and relationships when you know you will be leaving? All the way, or do you hold back for the sake of someone else? Does that defeat the purpose of what we make life out to be? How would you deal with racism that has been deeply embedded in a culture for hundreds of years? What do you do when you know fear is the cause of injustices that occur? How much...

These questions I don’t have the answers to and maybe I don't want the answers and just thinking about them is enough. But I often go back and forth between what I would do in a similar situation or if there is something more I should be doing right now with my time here. I know realistically being here, loving and listening is sufficient but I want to do more. It is difficult and heart breaking to know that I want to do so much more; to completely give all of myself, all of my resources and energy but not knowing or seeing how to, not wanting to do more damage than good.

When I say not wanting to do more damage than good, it is because I have heard so many stories about do-gooders coming in from other cultures to try and ‘help’. Changing and helping, and hurting. Unfortunately, as wonderful and kind-hearted as we can be, we can also do a lot damage by coming in with ideas and money from our own cultures about what the standard of life should be and how to achieve that. (don't get me wrong I am not completely in disagreement with helping and aiding those who are less fortunate, we just need to be very careful in how we do this and how we use our good intentions). When we begin comparing our lives to the lives of others, coming in, trying to "fix/improve lives," when we begin thinking about what makes our lives comfortable and that others deserve this also. Each life is so unique, and life is relative to the person living it, the cultures in which it is lived, so that comparing becomes destructive.

the sun.

It is sunny today. It is so wonderful to see the sun after so many days of rain. Rain is wonderful and cleansing. I enjoy the cozy feeling it inspires, the repose that comes over me. Just as I love the sun, it lightens the soul and warms the spirit. It may just be my imagination but everyone seems a bit cheerier in the office today. I claim it is the sun, the surplus of vitamin D, you just cannot help but feel good.

just love, thats all for today.

Laura-Catherine and I were just about to head out to catch our bus Tuesday evening, after an exhausting day of playing with the kids at the mission, when a sudden downpour delayed our departure. Not thinking to grab our rain jackets before heading out that morning left us sitting in the office with Padre Jose to wait out the storm. My first thought was I am tired, I just want to start the 1 1/2-bus ride home, but two minutes into our conversation my inspiration picked up and I was ready to talk for hours about all of the possibilities and potential with the mission.

Padre Jose shared about the challenging lives of the children, the economic and social situation of the neighborhood and how much love and touch the children lack in their lives. When the children's parents arrive home after working all day, they are either too tired, to drunk or abusive to give these children the love they need. These children just want to be loved and held, to learn and to play. Watching them interact with one another and with us, seeing and feeling the family the after school program at the mission has created makes you realize how important family and friends are, and how important it is to love.

I spent the bus ride sorting through my surplus of thoughts and memories of my first visit to the mission back in September. Padre Jose came to pick me up to spend a day with him at the mission. The city whizzed by and I tried with difficulty to understand what he was explaining to me about the children I would be working with, the mission, the city and something about a very happy church service with singing.

After what felt like an eternity of creeping up the hill in the little twingo car we arrived at the mission; located pretty deep into the south of the city, on the steep Andean mountainside where the weather is harsher and the view of Bogota is spectacular. The buildings are crumbling and tightly packed in, potholes are the size of small ponds and any open terrain is littered with trash and stray dogs.

Meeting with the kids that afternoon blew me away. They asked questions about my family, hot water, what my life was like, if I arrived on a plane and when I would be coming back. I understood about every fifth word they said, and had to try and decipher the words I did understand between their giggling fits. We played soccer in the street and I fell in love.

Some days I don't feel as if I have the energy to teach, to try and come up with ideas that will help the kids to focus, fighting my own thoughts of how much the children should learn, how much progress they are making or if they are even getting what we are teaching, but the moment the door opens to the church and we are bombarded with open arms and smiles from the kids, all of these anxieties melt away. Just being there and loving these kids is enough.

storytime.

I’m not one much for details of events but I am very much a proponent of telling stories. This is my version of Trying to Get my Visa story. And it begins this summer, before embarking on my grand adventure to Colombia. I did the research and hunted down the necessary paperwork I needed in order to get a temporary religious visa. With this magic visa, I would be able to live and work as a missionary for one year, in Colombia with little or no hassle.

Well, unfortunately the paperwork did not arrive before my departure in September. So goodbyes were said to friends and family in Spokane, I took a deep breath as the plane prepared for take off and I tried slow my thoughts of the worst-case scenarios of what the Colombian customs and border patrol would be like without the visa but a return plane ticket for May. Thankfully going through customs was a breeze. One the other hand, trying get my visa during my first few weeks in Colombia was much more of a challenge, something similar to hiking a glacier while hauling a cart of rocks, no snow tires but 25 pound ankle weights strapped to each ankle (that may be a little dramatic). Pilar and I quickly discovered that I must leave the country in order to obtain the visa, and without the temporary religious visa, I must return to the DAS office every 60 days to pay a tax and get a stamp. After 6 months of this I must leave the country for a few days, return to Colombia to do this all over again.

Well, as fun as this was, I had the opportunity while in Ecuador with my mother to get my visa. I talked to of all my people, got all the necessary documents, applications and photos, and headed to the Colombian Consulate in Ecuador. After trying to decipher what the Ecuadorian lady at the front desk was saying in English (since she absolutely refused to speak Spanish) I discovered that because one of my documents said volunteer in place of missionary I could not get the missionary visa, or the volunteer visa.

I blocked the visa from my mind and enjoyed the rest our time in Ecuador. Once back in Bogota, came the task of figuring out what to do next; fly to Atlanta or return to Ecuador to get a visa, or just stay on my tourist visa. After many thoughts and prayers, I decided to head to Atlanta for attempt #3 of getting my visa. I decided on Atlanta because that is where Laura-Catherine was able to get hers in just a few hours with the same paperwork that I had attempted to get my visa with in Quito.

Cristina, the daughter of Myriam and Oscar, and her family warmly welcomed us to Atlanta. It was so wonderful to be able to meet and share time with family, so loving and kind. They dropped us off at the Colombian Consulate and after about an hour of waiting and stressing about all the ‘could-be’s and what-if’s,’ my number 31 was finally called. Once at the window the lady asked me how she could be of service, standing up straight, I confidently said, “I am here to get my visa.” Response, “oh a visa, you didn’t have to wait all this time, just head to that back office.” After the woman in the back office looked through my paperwork, asked me a few questions, mumbled a few uh huh's and da, ta, da's, ten minutes I walked out smiling with my visa in hand. Insert victory dance here.

THE END

the journey

Growing up comes with lots of questions, realizations, revelations and discovery. Growing up is life. It is living life and discovering yourself with in your own experience. At this time I am trying to find a balance between the realms of doing and being. I have days filled with passion and clarity while other days I feel confused and in search of patience. I wonder about what my mission is, why I am here, being aware that this is exactly where I need and want to be, but having struggling with seeing what the effect is while I am right in the middle of this all. Right in the middle of this experience that is my life. It will come; I am learning to have patience with all these questions, patience in knowing that I will live into the answers.

Laura-Catherine and I are on somewhat more of a consistent work schedule that is still pretty unpredictable. One long weekend a month we go to Cali to work the group of young adults that have started working on various social projects and are interested in continuing with service work within the Episcopal Church on a national and international level. One Saturday a month we teach English in the mornings to a wonderful group of members of the cathedral here in Bogota, following the English class, we participate in a philosophy and theology class for another few hours.

On Thursdays and Fridays public transportation helps us find our way into the south of the city and up to the a mission to teach English and mentor children from 6-13 who have no where to go once school lets out. They come to the church (the mission) for lunch and help with homework. Last week we had a blast teaching them the “three sharp toothed buzzards” song. A soccer break in the middle of class was a fantastic break, but apparently just because I am three times the size as these children goals do not count if you pick up them up in order to kick the ball into the goal. I suppose this means I will be doing soccer drills in the church parking lot. These kids are incredible, more thoughts about them will be coming soon, I am sure of it.