Someone from our diocese here in Chimbote made this video about the fire that destroyed the settlement of Sanchez Milla a while back.

Right now, thanks to all the donations, especially from the Incarnate Word Sisters, the Posta Santa Clara has been able to start a new project which will help a lot of families affected by the fire.

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. 

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.

Summertime in El Peru.

It’s summer and it’s hot.

“Yeah, but is it Texas hot?”

…well, yes and no.

The sun here feels exactly how it looks: like a giant white ball of fire. It radiates a type of heat I can only compare to a stoking campfire or a cast iron skillet on the stove, or maybe the exhaust from revving diesel truck muffler. I don’t know if it’s because we’re closer to the equator or because of green house gases, but the sun is different here. 

The Equator, only 19 hours away.

All I know is that this Peruvian summer is brutal. What used to be a simple stroll downtown to mail a letter has turned into an every-man-for-himself battle for the shady side of the sidewalk.

In south Texas, the humidity is what kills you. During June you can pretty much count on those bologna shaped sweat stains under your armpits from the time the sun comes up until well after 9. Here though, the temperature isn’t that high…unless, that is, you’re standing directly under the nuke-ball, as I like to call it.

So, just avoid direct sunlight at all costs, right?

Right. Easily dealt with. 

Marcianos, which means martians, are popsicles sold on almost every street corner. Strawberry, pineapple, tamarindo, lucuma, peanut, coconut.

But here’s the real catch.

No A/C.
            Not in the house, not in the bank, not in the clinic.

Restaurants? Nope.  

You’d think maybe in the church?

Think again. 

…so that’s why mass is only at 7:30am and 7:30pm.

A/C just doesn’t really exist here. Once the day heats up, there's no escape. 

Although, I do now know that the Claro store, a big mobile phone provider, is air-conditioned. But once they realized I wasn’t there on business I was politely kicked to the curb where all the other throw-outs pressed their bodies against the window panes.

Hey, it was cool while it lasted.

Why the Peruvian hairless dog is hairless. Mystery solved.

I think now about how I used to complain about hot Texas summers—when I went from my air-conditioned house to my air-conditioned truck to run air-conditioned errands before going to air-conditioned work. I even used to jog around the track in an air-conditioned gym which would sound like a make-believe story to my Peruvian friends.

“Yeah, the air in the whole building is kind of like inside the refrigerator. Then…I’d run around a circle until I got hot and sweaty.”

My life in the U.S. wasn’t exactly cushy, but I have to say, I had it pretty good. Hot shower, air-conditioning and a glass of water that doesn’t taste like a mouth full of pennies. Now that was the good life.

What’s even more thought provoking is that six moths ago I was living in veritable luxury compared to now, but now, compared to others, I still am.

I have the oscillating fan cranked up to 3/3 as I’m laying on my bed in a room I don’t have to share with seven members of my extended family, as I type on my laptop wearing clean clothes after having taken a shower in running water before going downstairs to have some dinner.
            I work with people every day that aren’t afforded a single one of the luxuries I’m enjoying right now.

The past six months have shown me what it means to live in solidarity with the economically poor and marginalized, and how powerful and life changing that is. At the same time though, I still have a lot more than the majority of people alive on earth today. If anything, I’ve only seen how large the gap is between the poor and, frankly, everybody else.

That thought is what makes the heat bearable. That is what makes all of this worth doing.

Collaboration is key.

       This past week I worked with one of the members of Pushaq Warmi, the women’s group I work with through Women’s Global Connection, and Sembrando Infancia, the public health project I volunteer with, on a workshop for some moms in Cambio Puente.

            Since Cambio Puente is out in a rural area they have easy access to fresh milk. If they were to sell the milk directly they’d get about 1.50 soles per liter sold. This is pretty decent since it doesn’t cost a whole lot to raise partially free-ranging milk cows. Not all the women in Cambio Puente have the time, space or ability to raise milk cows however.

            Sandra, the member from Pushaq Warmi, and I needed to come up with a creative way to capitalize on the milk readily available in Cambio Puente.

It just so happens that Sandra knows how to make yogurt. 

Day 1: Preparing the milk to ferment.

            After purchasing the milk, the bacteria for fermenting the milk, the sugar, fruit and a few other ingredients, the total cost of producing yogurt is around 2.50 soles per liter. Yogurt sells at around 4.50 soles per liter in the market, and sometimes women sell small individual servings on the street for a sol each, and there are about five or six servings in one liter, making yogurt pretty profitable.    

            One thing I think is cool is that the whole process is local. By making yogurt, the women are supporting local dairy producers as well as increasing their own incomes. Another plus is that since the yogurt is homemade, it’s naturally pro-biotic, high in calcium and protein, making it a better alternative to a package of cookies.

Day 2: The yogurt turned out. Here Sandra is adding the strawberry marmalade she made the day before.

            The women were excited to learn how to make it, especially now that it’s summer and yogurt is popular around this time. The two-day workshop was a success and the yogurt turned out good. Sandra was worried that the bacteria wouldn’t take because it needs a really clean environment to grow, and Cambio Puente is pretty dusty.

            The women came from a group called Vasos de Leche which is daily breakfast program for children in high-poverty areas. Every morning children in Vasos de Leche receive a free breakfast by going to one of these women’s houses. Usually a glass of hot milk and some type of grain like oatmeal or quinoa. For this reason, most of them should already have all the implements needed to start making, and hopefully selling, yogurt right away.

            Sandra is going to talk with the rest of the women from Pushaq Warmi and their next meeting to see if projects like this will be something that they choose to do more of in the future.

            Next, the women want to learn how to make cheese, but we’re going to take things one step at a time.

Sandra and I with the yogurt entrepreneurs.

Fire Update

A quick bit of good news.

Donations to the victims of the San Pedro fire have been overwhelming. Charity organizations are no longer accepting clothes because they've received so much already. Kelli who volunteers with the Good Sheppard sisters told me yesterday that they received so much, it's going to take a couple of days just to sort through it all. Now they are focusing on drinking water, food, cooking utensils like pots and pans, and building supplies. The fact that so much has been donated over such a short period has really motivated the relief effort. I'm sure everyone's thoughts and prayers are helping very much too.

A fire in San Pedro.

---Translated from the Americatv.com news site:

Hell in the north. A fire charred about 600 homes in the slums Jose Sanchez Mile in the lower area of ​​the Cerro San Pedro, in Chimbote. Also hit by the flames were the areas of Los Jardines and Nuevo Horizonte.

The fire burned houses that were built of sticks and estera mats in a 12 blocks radius, near the city.

The incident occurred midway through 11 a.m. and after more than three hours was only able to be controlled by firefighters and the villagers themselves.

Precisely, the affected population showed their disgust with the regional president of Ancash, Cesar Alvarez Aguilar, and the provincial mayor of Santa, Luis Arroyo, for not implementing the Fire Company with better resources, despite a budget that is managed in the region.

The residents also demanded that the municipality give them land titles without them they can not build and improve the state of their homes.

At press time, it is yet to be determined exactly how many people suffocated by the smoke, but no casualties were reported.
One of the wounded was a watchman, who suffered minor burns. Those affected were registered with representatives of Civil Defense to receive food, tents and other supplies.

THE REASON

It is not known exactly what caused accident. Initial inquiries suggest that the fire occurred because a cook with wood stove in the backyard. He could not control the fire and it spread rapidly to other lots. After that, several gas tanks exploded, spreading flames further.

However, according to RPP Noticias, firefighters said that this incident was caused by a short circuit for illegal connections that are in the area.

--------

This past Saturday Emily, Katie and I visited the area to help the Diocese of Chimbote hand out donations of clothes and water. In all there were about twenty of us to help pass out the bags of supplies to a pre-arranged group of those affected by the fire.

I was surprised to see that there wasn’t much evidence of a fire. Just a giant empty field that looked littered with trash. At the top of a sandy, gently sloping hill was what appeared to be a tent city. Blue canvas and vinyl disaster relief tents flapped in the hot wind.

I walked partway up the hill and was able to see another field filled with piles of black ash and debris close by. I realized that the city had already bulldozed much of the area and gathered the aftermath in a nearby empty lot. Further up the hill we saw real signs of the damage. After we passed out everything we’d brought, the coordinator asked us to split into groups of two and find out what the people there need most and also to see if anyone needed help rebuilding. 

 

My friend Giancarlo and I started at the bottom of the hill to see what we could do. As we walked through an area with minimal damage, Giancarlo turned to me and said, “I think we should only stop at houses without a man around. We should look for a single mother or grandma or something who’ll really need our help.” I agreed and we stopped at one house to talk to a woman, but she said she didn’t need any help rebuilding, although, they didn’t have anything to eat. Her and her family would be depending on relief services for food that day.

We found out that they were all receiving adequate water though. A giant truck had been coming to fill large donated barrels with potable water for the community, a good sign. 

              It wasn’t long before we came across Hermana Katty, one of the Incarnate Word sisters, waving us over to an older woman dragging a roll of estera towards her tent. Hermana Katty explained that the woman needed help creating a barrier against the wind and sun in front of her tent. It was getting too hot during the day to remain in the tent, but it was also too hot and windy to stay outside. We later found out that her husband was with her daughter and her baby, the old woman’s grandson, at the hospital. She wanted to have an enclosed area built by the time they returned. After about thirty minutes of dusty, sweaty work, the four of us managed to build an enclosure for the woman.

            After talking to another woman, we learned that many of the residents were upset because of the large amount of looting. Apparently as people were rushing to get their belongings out of their houses before they burned to the ground, some busied themselves with taking all the unprotected stuff.

            “It’s sad. It’s sad that we lost our house and it’s sad that there are people taking advantage of the situation like this. By robbing their neighbors.” she said as we stood with her in a line waiting for a donation bag.

            As we were leaving the area, on our way to an area with taxis, we noticed a large crowd of people, some yelling, some with camcorders recording. In the center of the crowd was Cesar Alvarez, our regional governor. Before then I’d only seen his smiling face all over signs throughout the city. Standing in the middle of that crowd though, he was definitely not happy. People demanded to know why more wasn’t being done.

             The fire only highlighted a deeper problem. Why were there so many people without adequate housing? The slum in San Pedro is one of many other slums in and around Chimbote. Yes the fire was a horrible disaster, but we need to look at the bigger picture. I’m sure it’s a complicated issue, but the bottom line is that the victims represent a portion of this community who are suffering because of a lack of income and affordable housing. 

            They are forced to make do with what they have, and that means buying cheap, extremely flammable bamboo mats to build their homes. I hope that Cesar Alvarez is proactive and does something to help the people of San Pedro, both short and long-term, and doesn’t take the “these homes shouldn’t have been here in the first place” approach, which would be a bad ending to an already sad story.

            We’re planning on going back out this Saturday to help more, however we can.