Friday, March 30, 2012

Hope your cat speaks English.

One of the ways I know that my Spanish is improving that I'm able to pick up on the little things now.

For example, I recently heard a friend mention in passing that "Un gato tiene siete vidas," or "A cat has seven lives."

After asking my friend to repeat the saying, and after double-checking with some other friends, I found out that, in Spanish, cats only have 7 lives, not 9. They were equally surprised to hear that cats in the U.S. have 9.

So, sadly our Peruvian cats have two less opportunities to bounce back than their English speaking counterparts.

Good to know. 

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

The gift is the presence.

One of the most difficult aspects of being a long-term missionary abroad is that I’m not just volunteering my skills. I’m also volunteering my presence, my whole self.
The other day during a Skype call with a class at Incarnate Word University that’ll be visiting us during an immersion trip in May, we were talking about what skills the students had and what workshops they might be able to give while they are here. Then Emily, the volunteer from Nebraska who works in the parish, said something really important.

It’s tempting to feel like you have to be useful―like you have to have some purpose while you’re down here, that you have to give something, make use of all your skills. What I think might be more important to think about is just being present, learning from the people just by spending time with them.

This was a lesson I had to learn myself, and one I’m still learning.
           
“Be where your feet are.”
“Accompaniment”
“Ministry of presence”

Three ways of saying the same thing: and that is to “be.”

The famous Catholic priest and author, Henri Nouwen explained it well,


 "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 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 part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups, and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets. It is difficult not to have plans, not to organize people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress. But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn't be to know people by name, to eat and 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 them, but truly love them." 

Coming from the United States I’ve realized what a habit it is to favor “doing” over “being.”
…and also how backwards it is, not to mention un-Christian. Time and time again throughout his ministry Jesus highlights the importance of being present. Here are two no-brainers:

In Luke 10:38-42 Jesus commends Mary, the sister of Martha, for realizing the importance of being with Christ instead of preparing for him.

In Mark 10:13-16, his disciples are sending children away from visiting Jesus, because frankly, he’s got ‘grown-up’ things to do. When Jesus realizes what’s going on, he gets upset and takes the time to hold them and bless them.

I’ve realized too, that I should always emphasize the ‘be’ over the ‘do.”

When I’m walking home from work, and I’m hot, and I’m tired and I’m all dusty, it’s easy to take a side street and avoid talking to all my neighbors along the way, which can add twenty minutes to a five minute walk.
The hard part is realizing everything I did at work that day was only half of my service. The other half is the walk down my street on my way home and all the conversations I have. It isn’t just about what I give, but also about what I receive.  

In the Incarnate Word Missionaries mission statement is the key line: "[We] choose to live in community and walk in solidarity with the economically poor and marginalized, in order to be transformed by them…”

Here’s a breakdown of why this has become important to me:

The verb, choose. I choose to be with you here and now. I wish to “be known as someone who wants to live” with you, as Nouwen put it. This says a lot about the focus of our work here. By emphasizing the power of our choice to be here, we are saying, “Although the world may not know it, or see it, You are something of immense value, just because you are a living, breathing child of God."

Solidarity. Living simply and in solidarity with the economically poor is a continual process. I will never fully understand a homeless person’s reality unless I myself were to lose my home as well. But we are called to move passed sympathy―having pity, or feeling bad for another’s predicament―and towards empathy―to understand, relate to and be able to put yourself in another’s shoes. Actually living here, in solidarity means that when the water doesn’t come for my neighbors, I don’t feel sorry for them. I feel thirsty, because that means our water hasn’t come either.

Economically poor and marginalized. In the passed months I have met some of the “poorest” but also some of the richest people I’ve ever known. It has been important for me to remember that just because someone is economically poor doesn’t mean they are lacking anything other than having enough money to put food on the table. A woman I know whose family is working hard but struggling to pay her medical expenses is also the kindest person I’ve met here in Peru. She also has a large family that loves her almost to the point of suffocation.

In order to be transformed by them. This is what I think Emily was talking about during our Skype call. It isn’t just about everything I’m bringing to the table. It’s also about the experiences I’m leaving with. Every interaction and conversation I have is an opportunity to transform my understanding of another person’s reality. Each instance I spend just being with people here is a chance to change my beliefs and thoughts about what it truly means to be Christian in today’s age. 

As I finish up here, I'm already thinking of that walk home, of Lucha,  my neighbor who I know is going to invite me into her house for a bowl of hot soup, no matter the fact that it's so hot outside even the dogs are fighting for a space in front of the fan. But over my bowl of soup, hot off the stove, will be a conversation, a friendship, one I wouldn't have had if I'd stuck to my ways and kept to that side street.