The other day I was walking home from work. Some of my neighbors were shovelling in some fill- rocks and dirt- into their house. I decided to stop and help out, and get back into my days of at Obriens Landscaping.
We were shovelling the rocks into 5 gallon buckets and then running the buckets behind their house. As I passed by the house, I ducked to avoid splitting my forehead open by the low and rusty tin roof. As I passed to the back of the house, I saw the reason for the rocks. The rainy season has caused this family to live with a pond right outside their cane house, inside their wooden fence. And thats why we were shovelling, to fill in the pond so the water could drain into the street.
As they descibed how bad the bugs were and how smelly the stagnent water was, I was disallusioned by my previous blog entries. All that writing of the water, romantically describing how the streets are alive with fish, frogs, and noise. How different do my neighbors view the water! The reality for them is much different than the illusion of a one year volunteer. A sore back. Heat. Water. Constant building. Constant fear of flooding. So as I spent the evening shovelling and running buckets of rock, I realized Ghandi´s statement ¨ I cannot imagine anything nobler or more national than that for, say, one hour in the day we should all do the labor the poor must do, and thus identify ourselves with them and through them, with all mankind.¨
Day by day, I am learning to take off my glasses. The glasses of perceptions and judgments I view the world with. The glasses of division of race, class, country, sex, and education need to come off.
And this is a daily practice that proves to be very challenging. The other morning, on the crowded bus, I caught myself passing judgments. I caught myself with my judgmental glasses on. As I judged the street vendor aggressively selling candy. Or the women who I judged based on their appearence. Or the highschoolers I judged based on their uniforms and friends. It is so easy to fall into the trap of categorizing people from far away. It is so easy to falsely perceive people, especially strangers, when you are wearing your glasses of judgement.
What a sad busride that was! How disconnected I was from everyone who got on my bus. But what I came come to learn, as the Truth, is that we need to practice finding the best out of strangers. Not hating the street vendor who shoves candy in your face everyday, but to Love. Respect, and be compassionate towards him. So after being ashamed about how judgmental I was in the beginning of the bus ride, I received Grace, and looked to every stranger as a member of my family. This is the Grace of God, that brings unity to everyone. It is inclusive, as God is in us all. Every stranger was binded to me. The stranger next to me transformed into my aunt. Still a stranger, but now, part of my family. The next three girls that passed by were my sisters carrying my nephew. My uncle looked at me, ready to go to work. What a hardworking uncle I have! The street vendor turned into my brother. He had some unfortunate circumstances, but Im glad to see him working every day on this bus. To concretize this practice, I gave everyone a name. Everyone has a name, and we easily forget this simple truth! It sounds crazy, but that busride was transformative. I felt connected- more so than I ever have been to a group of stangers. With my new insight, I saw the best of everyone- I recieved Grace, to view stangers as brethren, and to see that we are in the same human family.
May 17, 2010
April 29, 2010
Keep on Moving
So May is just around the corner. Time is flying by and we’ve all been starting to realize that this experience is coming to an end. As of right now, I have no plans coming back home. Just
Fortunado is 90 years old and 9 months. Laura and I visited him today, in his dark room at Damien House. He has had the shades drawn in to rest, as he hasn’t been feeling well for the last couple weeks. He leans over and turns down the salsa music to great us. At this moment he is filled with joy to have visitors and as he leans up on one elbow to talk. He is a man filled with life and optimism. He is a poet, not by any standards, but he spends the days writing prose about his “Linda Ecuador.” Laura and I read his poetry and listen to his 90 year history filled with wisdom over a cup of coffee.
He tells us that “trabajo es un regalo de Dious”, y “que preciosa es esta visita, estoy muy feliz porque no tengo mucho tiempo mas, y un ancieno como yo tiene que aprovechar la tiempo. Cada dia es un bendicion. Ahorrita ustedes tienen todo su vida, tan joven, aprovechar la tiempo precioso.” And then he talks about how he had his time and how his life is coming to an end. He says now “I’m old, and ugly.” Laura jumps in and says “No- what do you say that?!” He smiles, and laughs his old man’s laugh and says “Because everyday I look at myself in the mirror!”
Well my time might be coming up in
I have been experimenting with Truth in
April 27, 2010
April 11, 2010
One More Saturday Night
We have weathered the rainy season in Duran. Afternoons make you fear the sun. The sky may be blue, but I do not have the courage to look up. Evenings bring the rain and chill the air to about 80 degrees.
Instead of going out to the bars for my birthday weekend, me, Tom, and Wilfredo go out to the dark roads, to eat chicken and to watch a soccer game in our neighborhood. The Barcelona (Guayaquil's team) game is only on cable tonight, so theres one restaurant that has the game. On a 20 inch TV, there are about 70 men, all wearing the yellow jerseys watching the game. As I am eating a giant plate of rice, patacones, beans, and oven roasten chicken ($1.50 for everything with a coke), I am looking on the wall trying to follow the game. Then GOALLLLLLLLLLLL the place errupts, our team wins 1-0.
Then we walk back home on the dark streets. The dirt roads come alive in the darkness. Noise comes from everywhere, insects and birds, you cant see. Dogs stare territorially. Cats stalk rodents with patience. The puddles are birght as they are illuminated by the street lights. The frogs watch from beneath as you walk by. Crabs tippy toe from pond to puddle. In the rainy season, the roads are full of life.
I hear ¨Daniel!¨from the darkness and walk towards Winky and Negro (more formally, are rarely, called Javier and Andres) who are riding a bike together. Walking, we find about 5 more to their crew. Some siblings, some cousins, its all still confusing to me. There are no parents. No supervision. They are the kids who fight, throw rocks, sware, are wreak havoc at my afterschool program. They are the neglected, the ones in need of friendship and love. Tonight, they roam the streets taking turns riding their communal bicycle looking for something to do. They show me a store with the best choco-bananas. For a second, they are in guiding me. This is their home, their life.
The stars are out tonight, its rare this season and with this pollution. We sit on a some rocks, on the side of the dirt road, about 10 of us by now. When we sit, I look up to some of them, making me forget they are all under 10 years old and Im the adult. This is their home, this is their life. So another Saturday Night, my birthday weekend, looking up at the stars and looking into the puddles in my new home.
Instead of going out to the bars for my birthday weekend, me, Tom, and Wilfredo go out to the dark roads, to eat chicken and to watch a soccer game in our neighborhood. The Barcelona (Guayaquil's team) game is only on cable tonight, so theres one restaurant that has the game. On a 20 inch TV, there are about 70 men, all wearing the yellow jerseys watching the game. As I am eating a giant plate of rice, patacones, beans, and oven roasten chicken ($1.50 for everything with a coke), I am looking on the wall trying to follow the game. Then GOALLLLLLLLLLLL the place errupts, our team wins 1-0.
Then we walk back home on the dark streets. The dirt roads come alive in the darkness. Noise comes from everywhere, insects and birds, you cant see. Dogs stare territorially. Cats stalk rodents with patience. The puddles are birght as they are illuminated by the street lights. The frogs watch from beneath as you walk by. Crabs tippy toe from pond to puddle. In the rainy season, the roads are full of life.
I hear ¨Daniel!¨from the darkness and walk towards Winky and Negro (more formally, are rarely, called Javier and Andres) who are riding a bike together. Walking, we find about 5 more to their crew. Some siblings, some cousins, its all still confusing to me. There are no parents. No supervision. They are the kids who fight, throw rocks, sware, are wreak havoc at my afterschool program. They are the neglected, the ones in need of friendship and love. Tonight, they roam the streets taking turns riding their communal bicycle looking for something to do. They show me a store with the best choco-bananas. For a second, they are in guiding me. This is their home, their life.
The stars are out tonight, its rare this season and with this pollution. We sit on a some rocks, on the side of the dirt road, about 10 of us by now. When we sit, I look up to some of them, making me forget they are all under 10 years old and Im the adult. This is their home, this is their life. So another Saturday Night, my birthday weekend, looking up at the stars and looking into the puddles in my new home.
March 20, 2010
i love that dirty water
swimming in that river, as everyone told me it would, backfired on me.
that nasty brown river called my name again during another rainy season downpour. a couple of us, jumped in, amidst the lighting into the muddy, trash-filled river. what a wonderful place. in a sky of grey, a muck of brown, i could barely see 5 ft in the chaos. I felt like Forrest Gump ¨when there was rain that flew in sideways...and sometimes rain even seemed to come straight up.¨
lets go back to an important fact of the story. that day, my parents sent me in some new shoes, Crocs. almost like sandals, but as Jon told me during Bonarroo, they were perfect for mud and concerts. so with this storm, with the lightning, in the muddy river, i went out in my new shoes.
they were as Jon described. I was outrunning my friends outside the river in the mud, my feet were invincible. to quote the best movie of all time again ¨i could run like the wind blows.¨ with the storm, the water was rising fast, we played a game of tag with a couple kids who were already at the river. as i was dodging being tagged, the river conjured up the its strength and bit my shoe right off of my foot.
i plunged under to find it in the mud, but the water was moving too fast, and the lightning picked up. it was getting dark and we had to leave. i walked away from the river with one, brand new, shoe.
for three straight days, as standard searches go, we went back to the river to look, unsuccessfully. digging up mud stained my fingernails for a day for two. in the mud, we found about 30 bottles of coke, tree limbs, a couple dead fish, and about 20 other shoes. but not mine.
it was a lost cause, and i accepted the fact that i just contributed to another peice of trash in our polluted river.
....
this all happend last month. and last week, one of my friends invited me over to tell mea story. he told me, as Joseph and I were walking past the river, i through a ball of mud at him, then he threw me off a 2 meter cliff, and i landed on that expensive shoe of yours. IT WAS FOUND
after a chicken dinner for everyone in the search party, it would seem like i learned my lesson, right? i know swimming in the river is dumb and i forgot to mention the rash i got on my back too (possibly how i wound up with those amoeba's and worms in my system as well) but then i thought....
the river is where my neighbors go if they want to go swimming. they dont get in their car and drive to Fradette´s or Provencher´s pool. they dont get in the car and do to Hampton Beach, much less do they go to their parents´ lake house. they go in that nasty, dirty, polluted river behind our houses. So Ive got my mind made up, and this year, I will too.
futbol
latin.
community. life.
heat, caged windows, salsa music, futbol
lonely nights, long conversations, looking at the calendar
how many chapters will be in my roller coaster day?
once again, i find myself a stranger in a strange land. but at this point in the year, im pretty well known in my community. im best known for being the ¨gringo en la cancha.¨ that translates to the white dude who plays soccer. futbol. 7 days a week. every day. i play, futbol. but lets start from the beginning...
i first was introduced to futbol in my after school program. every else was doing it. and from anyone who knows me, i fold like oregami under peer pressure. so like a lot of other things in my life, i just took what Keirkegard would call a ¨leap of faith¨and i jumped in head first. and after playing futol a couple days a week, i became addicted.
5 days wasnt enough. I needed to find more games. so i started playing sundays too. on the streets. there is always something on the line. food, drinks, money, and pride. and today, i started a league on saturdays to get my fix in 7 days a week.
and so thats where i spend my free time. and thats how i became to feel like a part of my community. and futbol has opened new doors for me. to friendships. to casas. and to a new vocabulary of trash talking that is centered around ¨tu madre¨.
so futbol is a huge part of my life down here now. and it is how i have gotten to meet my community. and it is why i am periodically turning my head as i am writing this to some of my new names ( dan-yell, dan-i, dan-yell-ito, gringo, jefe, pana, amigo, ñaño) as my new friends pass by and see me through the steel bars of the internet cafe. some stop in. a couple of the younger kids have eagerly watched my type everyword.
i miss home. i miss home a lot. but today i am happy being a stranger in this strange world.
community. life.
heat, caged windows, salsa music, futbol
lonely nights, long conversations, looking at the calendar
how many chapters will be in my roller coaster day?
once again, i find myself a stranger in a strange land. but at this point in the year, im pretty well known in my community. im best known for being the ¨gringo en la cancha.¨ that translates to the white dude who plays soccer. futbol. 7 days a week. every day. i play, futbol. but lets start from the beginning...
i first was introduced to futbol in my after school program. every else was doing it. and from anyone who knows me, i fold like oregami under peer pressure. so like a lot of other things in my life, i just took what Keirkegard would call a ¨leap of faith¨and i jumped in head first. and after playing futol a couple days a week, i became addicted.
5 days wasnt enough. I needed to find more games. so i started playing sundays too. on the streets. there is always something on the line. food, drinks, money, and pride. and today, i started a league on saturdays to get my fix in 7 days a week.
and so thats where i spend my free time. and thats how i became to feel like a part of my community. and futbol has opened new doors for me. to friendships. to casas. and to a new vocabulary of trash talking that is centered around ¨tu madre¨.
so futbol is a huge part of my life down here now. and it is how i have gotten to meet my community. and it is why i am periodically turning my head as i am writing this to some of my new names ( dan-yell, dan-i, dan-yell-ito, gringo, jefe, pana, amigo, ñaño) as my new friends pass by and see me through the steel bars of the internet cafe. some stop in. a couple of the younger kids have eagerly watched my type everyword.
i miss home. i miss home a lot. but today i am happy being a stranger in this strange world.
March 5, 2010
Babylon Burn Down
Updates
But you guys dont want to hear about how busy my life is here... Arent we all busy?
Lets talk about ¨Babylon Burn Down.¨ What does that even mean? It stands for hope, from the Judeo-Christian tradition, Rastafarian especially. It means that amist all the suffering in the world, there is hope. Babylon, will burn down. Martin Luther King Jr. said it the best in accepting his Nobel Peace Prize... ¨I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, Other-centered men can build up.¨ I am inspired that Garrett, David, Melissa, and Nora are heading down to Haiti in May. Jon is practicing microfinance (small loans to those oppressed by lack of resources and opportunity) in Kenya. God calls us all to bring down Babylon. There is so much work to be done in the US! First in our hearts (no bad mind, no hatred, no envy, no grudge) and then in our action. Out faith must have praxis, or it is a dead, and selfish spirituality. I have faith that if we all act in love and make a preferrential option for the poor, Babylon will burn down.
What is Babylon then? In Duran... Babylon reigns when I meet a child, living in a cane house with 13 other people, mainly chldren. She is 13, and we practice multiplacation in a park. She has a one year old on her lap and there is a 2 year old to her side. We try to focus. She wants to learn, she has been out of school for several years now. 13 years old and illiterate, so we practice math. We practice multiplying numbers by 2, and then by 10, the easiest. Then the neighbors come and interupt. They want attention. Then her mother calls, she has to go by food for dinner. This child has more responsiblilty than I do! Born into a life of struggle and poverty, will she ever has a second to be a child?
Or what about my friend who has played the game well. She is smart, beautiful, and ambitious. She grew up in Duran and was lucky enough to have the opportunity to go to school. She excelled. She was given another opportunity and got a scholorship to go to college. She excelled there. A bachelors degree! Coming from a child in Duran?! Finally, against all the odds, she made it, the promised land of having a college education. Today, she is unemployed. She has no connections and there are no jobs available. Imagine the heartbreak. You played the game right, worked your hardest, took advantage of every opportunity that came your way, and still no opportunity. The system just doesnt work.
Thats Babylon. And thats why we need to change.
Do we give up faith in a more just world and just focus on getting ours? Thats the temptation of our life. Thats Babylon Burn Down- God, give me the courage to dedicate a life for a more just world.
- I just led another retreat group from St. John´s Prep (Danver´s Mass). This was a great for us, and I feel that the highschoolers all left inspired to continue a life of faith and service
- Tutoring now in math, english, and FRENCH (I hoped it would come in handy down the line)
- Soccer everyday, on the weekdays we play on a concrete court at Semillas, the weekends we play on the street
- I used to eat lunch at home, making eggs or eating left overs. Now, Ive been eating at Damien House with the women, and often, Ill get pulled into a neighbors house for a second lunch, the standard is a bowl of soup and plate of chicken and rice.
- 100 degrees everyday
- Reading Liberation Theology (faith in making a prefferential option for the poor)
- Listening to Bob Marley (the same idea as above)
- Re-growing the beard
But you guys dont want to hear about how busy my life is here... Arent we all busy?
Lets talk about ¨Babylon Burn Down.¨ What does that even mean? It stands for hope, from the Judeo-Christian tradition, Rastafarian especially. It means that amist all the suffering in the world, there is hope. Babylon, will burn down. Martin Luther King Jr. said it the best in accepting his Nobel Peace Prize... ¨I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, Other-centered men can build up.¨ I am inspired that Garrett, David, Melissa, and Nora are heading down to Haiti in May. Jon is practicing microfinance (small loans to those oppressed by lack of resources and opportunity) in Kenya. God calls us all to bring down Babylon. There is so much work to be done in the US! First in our hearts (no bad mind, no hatred, no envy, no grudge) and then in our action. Out faith must have praxis, or it is a dead, and selfish spirituality. I have faith that if we all act in love and make a preferrential option for the poor, Babylon will burn down.
What is Babylon then? In Duran... Babylon reigns when I meet a child, living in a cane house with 13 other people, mainly chldren. She is 13, and we practice multiplacation in a park. She has a one year old on her lap and there is a 2 year old to her side. We try to focus. She wants to learn, she has been out of school for several years now. 13 years old and illiterate, so we practice math. We practice multiplying numbers by 2, and then by 10, the easiest. Then the neighbors come and interupt. They want attention. Then her mother calls, she has to go by food for dinner. This child has more responsiblilty than I do! Born into a life of struggle and poverty, will she ever has a second to be a child?
Or what about my friend who has played the game well. She is smart, beautiful, and ambitious. She grew up in Duran and was lucky enough to have the opportunity to go to school. She excelled. She was given another opportunity and got a scholorship to go to college. She excelled there. A bachelors degree! Coming from a child in Duran?! Finally, against all the odds, she made it, the promised land of having a college education. Today, she is unemployed. She has no connections and there are no jobs available. Imagine the heartbreak. You played the game right, worked your hardest, took advantage of every opportunity that came your way, and still no opportunity. The system just doesnt work.
Thats Babylon. And thats why we need to change.
Do we give up faith in a more just world and just focus on getting ours? Thats the temptation of our life. Thats Babylon Burn Down- God, give me the courage to dedicate a life for a more just world.
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