...are you hispanic?

Shout out to my mom, Joan, for suggesting I tell the following story on my blog.

One of the special highlights of substitute teaching for me is that the two schools where I´m teaching both have significant Latin American immigrant populations, which sometimes gives me the opportunity to speak Spanish and always gives me the opportunity to gain insight into the lives of immigrant children in rural Nebraska.  And, sometimes, it just gives me a little laugh.

I recently substitute taught for the Spanish teacher at an Elementary school.  Ironically, all students take Spanish at this school, even if they are Spanish-speaking.  So although I was only teaching basics, as I moved from class to class many of the students could tell by the way I pronounced the words that I actually knew Spanish.  That was definitely the case as I started class with the 5th graders, and two students toward the back were whispering back and forth even as I began the lesson.

"Eyes up here and mouths closed, please," I stated firmly without losing my place in the lesson.  The whispering boy raised his hand.

"Do you have a question?" I asked him skeptically.  Satisfied, he lowered his hand and pointed to his friend.

"She wants to know if you're Hispanic."

I smiled, flattered.  I was often tempted to tell students I was Peruvian, but when the words came out I always ended up telling the truth.  So I explained that no, I am not Hispanic, but that I do speak pretty good Spanish because I lived in Peru.  From somewhere in the room I heard someone whisper, "See, I told you!"

We continued with the lesson, though classes with Spanish-speaking students are always more energy-charged once they know I know.

And that makes it all the more fun!

Merry Christmas from my family!

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on pilgrimage

I've heard it said that saints make saints.  Some proof of that is that four of the most popular Peruvian saints, St. Turibius, St. John Macías, St. Martin de Porres, and St. Rose of Lima all lived during the same time and knew each other.   I imagine they inspired each other, and empowered each other to live authentic lives for God.

Of course, it's just another way of saying being around great people helps to make you a better person, if you aren't interested in sainthood.  I am so blessed to be surrounded by many great people--that is, people striving for greatness.  I'm sure they wouldn't want to be categorized as "great" :).  Though to their credit, I recently heard that the idea that accomplishments and intelligence make greatness is kind of a Western idea, and many Eastern cultures place more merit in the struggling itself.  So, I suppose simply striving to be great people makes them great people, and that's why I am so grateful for them!

One of those people who is particularly present with me right now is my little brother Jeff, who just reminded me in his blog not to bound myself by limits.  It's a difficult thing in a culture where the "path to success" is often a bit cookie-cutter.  And it's a particular struggle for me now as I am on the brink of a life-defining step!  (ironically, isn't every step we take life-defining?)

It just started snowing again outside the window of this coffee shop in downtown Minneapolis, and there's something you can't beat about the coziness of watching it snow outside while you are toasty warm inside!  I'm here for several reasons, which could be stated pretty simply or honestly.

Stated simply, I'm here to visit a couple of graduate schools.

Stated honestly, I'm here to be attentive to the movements deep in my soul as I contemplate the next step, and I'm here to do it in the company of one of my soul mates, another of those great people in my life.  That would be Kelli,  my two-year housemate and roommate in Peru, who I haven't seen since we parted ways in the Houston airport on July 31st, and whose influence on me must not be understated!

So I thank you for your prayers/positive vibes directed my way on this vocational journey!  And thanks for being great people!  You can be sure I will be sending up prayers and emitting all the positive vibes I can so that all of us can progress together toward a world community driven by love for all our brothers and sisters.   Peace!

toes on cold cement

There are about three places in the world where time truly stands still, where the past and the future cease to exist and all that matters is the present.  One of those is under a tree outside my host family´s house in the mountains of the Dominican Republic, one is on and around the sand dune just outside Chimbote on Avenida Perú, and the other, the place I currently resort to, is on the front porch of my parents' house.

My parents' house faces east, so on a fall morning the crisp air is warmed by the rising sun.  It's a sensation I truly appreciate after living in Chimbote, where sunshine equals burning, and "winter" basically means cloudy.  Fall and winter are much less bearable without sunshine, but here we get the best of both worlds.

Anyway, it is a very grounding place, perfect for drinking morning coffee and imaging God's face smiling at me, as Sr. Dorothy has recommended I do.  As of this week I have begun to feel the anguish of having to choose a future as I realize that grad school apps are due in a mere couple of months.  That means battling questions like, "How will this program help you to achieve your personal and professional goals?"  A difficult question when I don't know what those goals are!  Though thanks to my good professor C-los, I am realizing that the answers are already within me, I just have to listen closely.  Still, it's one thing to be internally aware of them, and another to put them down on paper.

But I will not be intimidated, because as I was reminded yesterday by the first reading, I am not alone!  This verse showed up at the perfect time.  So perfect, that I used it again today to add a drawing inspired by the landscape I see every morning, opening to reveal the right path.  And that's what I will leave you with!  May it be a message for us all, especially those of us in the midst of difficult decisions (which, actually, is probably everybody)!

"Ya estoy enviando a mi Ángel delante de ti para que te proteja en el viaje, hasta indroducirte en el lugar que te he preparado.  Anda derecho en su presencia y hazle caso: no le seas rebelde." -Éxodo 23, 20-21a

The color quality isn't great since I used colored pencils,
but I'm not trying to be a famous artist :)

"See, I am sending an angel before you, to guard you on the way and bring you to the place I have prepared.  Be attentive to him and heed his voice.  Do not rebel against him." -Exodus 23: 20-21a

wait--i´m not going to see them tomorrow?

I have been home in Nebraska for one month now.  At times it feels just like it has my whole life -- like my house -- and at moments that feeling will suddenly disappear when I see a picture of people in Chimbote, or think about what I would be doing if I were still there, or get a crazy urge to hear Alejandro sing, "Procuro Olvidarte" as he does (almost) every Sunday at theater rehearsal or to play a "dinámica," or Peruvian ice-breaker game.  In those moments I become acutely aware that "home" is no longer defined by one place, and the feeling of being home will never be fully satisfied neither here nor there.

Of course, it´s not exactly a new concept for me.  In many ways, I went through similar transition pains after returning from a semester in the Dominican Republic,  but that time was also very different.  While I did come to love my host families in the Dominican Republic very much, and missed them painfully, in those four months I never quite just became somebody´s "neighbor."  Yes, in Chimbote I was always the "misionera" or the "gringa" for most strangers, but for many people I was also just Emily.  After two years I was really just beginning to feel totally comfortable being me, in a totally different culture and language.  

And then suddenly Kelli and I were sitting on a bench outside the San Antonio airport waiting for a ride to take us back to the world of air-conditioned meetings and ready-made food.  Occasionally I have heard it said as, "back to the real world," which is perhaps how it seems to those who haven´t known anything else.  But quite honestly, since being home I haven´t felt further from the real world, and have felt much more like I´m walking through a dream world than I ever did in Chimbote.

Complement this dream-like state with a series of really happy hellos and really sad goodbyes as my siblings come and go -- home to California, off to college in Ohio, or into religious formation in Peru -- plus recognizing that to be happy I need to seek life-giving activities here (about to start substitute teaching and likely volunteering in youth ministry in a nearby parish)... and we start to get a somewhat accurate, yet still very incomplete, idea of the past month.

In many ways I think I haven´t even realized yet that nowhere in my near future are spontaneous trips to the beach, theater rehearsals, English conversation nights, community lunches, arguing matches with the cats, intense parish volleyball games, walks home with the kids from LENTCH, delicious late-night street foods, etc., etc., etc....

But that´s okay, because the real blessing is having so many people in Chimbote who will continue to be a part of my life, and discovering the ways that God will continue to use me and teach me through the people who now surround me.  

So I do ask you to pray for me in this transition, not for my own sake but for the sake of unity, of family, of sharing and of understanding.  So I can continue to move and be moved towards building God´s kingdom in this country I have come home to, a country very divided, so that we can all enjoy a world where cooperation and respect for one another is primary. 

Thanks for reading.  Hasta pronto!  Peace.

in the in-between

After living in Peru for nearly two years, my home here in Chimbote has truly passed from something new and temporary to something stable, routine, and ordinary.  The people living around me who were once strangers have become my neighbors, and we greet each other with a smile each time I pass by.  “To the church,” they say.  “Yes,” I respond.  The streets between my house and the parish, downtown, and the market, and the numerous cars and vans of various numbers that speed by, are no longer daunting mysteries but familiar, well-worn routes.  The people I live with are no longer “other volunteers,” but friends, companions, and co-collaborators.  And most of all, the “child workers,” the “people with disabilities,” and the parishioners, young and old, have become Cristian, Jessica, Teresita, Olga, Patty, Nataly, Danny, Richard, Oscar… and on and on.  While obviously never replacing my family back home, the individuals in my immediate reality have definitely come to be people I turn to, people I feel comfortable with, people I share my story with and people who continually honor me with their stories as well.

Now, as the date for my departure is nearing (July 24), I’m beginning to feel this reality slipping away.  When I leave, my community here will not cease to be a part of my reality, but they will take “segundo plano” as they say in Spanish, or “second plane.”  They will no longer be my daily routine.  They will become the people that I “keep in touch with.”  And I have to say, that's not easy to imagine.

Needless to say, I am excited to see my family and friends back home and dive into a new adventure, a new unknown.  But while I am still here, I will strive to be here.  I hope to communicate the love and gratitude that I feel toward each person that has touched my life here, and probably cry a little, while remembering that no matter where we are, our lives are always interwoven with the lives of others. 

And hey, I’m not gone yet!  Three weeks left, and each day is an opportunity for transformation in God’s love.

say NO to conga!



One of the lakes that will be destroyed by the Conga Mine project.



I feel compelled to write about the Conga project, one of the biggest issues today for Peru and for all consumers and defenders of our world’s natural resources.



The existing Yanacocha mine near Cajamarca.



Conga is a mining expansion of the Yanacocha mine in Cajamarca, Peru, operated by Newmont Mining Corporation from Denver, Colorado. Newmont, with the millions of dollars it has to invest in Conga, hopes to expand its mining operations to include a mountain overlooking Cajamarca believed to contain large amounts of gold. But for the people of Cajamarca, it is a proposal to destroy their way of life. This mountain is viewed as sacred by the community, and is the source of several rivers and lakes that provide the drinking water for Cajarmarca and the surrounding area. The entire area has mobilized into massive strikes that, at the end of last year, shut down Cajamarca for multiple months. The regional president has voiced his opposition to the project, in addition to many other community leaders. But we still keep waiting for an answer.



As a result of the strikes last year, President Humala and other government leaders came to an agreement with the strike organizers to pause the project in order to conduct further studies about its potential environmental impact. Today, the results of an international appraisal with the power to settle the issue once and for all were supposed to be released. Anticipating its release, the people of Cajamarca again came together to protest for 24 hours until its release, saying that if the results came out in favor of Newmont, they would move together to the sites of their lakes and reservoirs and physically block the machinery from beginning demolition. And today, holding our breath, we find out that the results have been postponed another week. One of my Peruvian friends, after finding out, scoffed and said, “That means corruption.” I wouldn’t be surprised, as the company and the Peruvian government already have a history of corruption, as documented in a PBS special done in 2006 about the very same mountain, and in which Newmont vowed to never again try to exploit that area. (The documentary is called “The Curse of Inca Gold,” and I highly encourage you to watch it online, just search for it on Google). I believe it is also a tactic to break up the extremely united community of Cajamarca while they wait another week for the results. But I suspect that a community that has fought for so long and so hard to defend their natural resources will not back down.



Prayer vigil in the plaza of Cajamarca.  Photo from La Republica.



So, what does this have to do with you? First of all, it’s a United States company and United States investors who are fueling this inhumane and completely disrespectful project completely against the wishes of the local community. You can even look up the Conga project on financial pages (NEW). So, if you have money in the stocks, I encourage you to find out if Newmont Mining or Conga is part of that portfolio, and drop it immediately. Or, as a stockholder, write to them and demand that they respect environmental and human rights. Also, avoid buying gold and other precious metals, because they likely come from this or other unjust mining projects. If you aren’t a stockholder, pray for the leaders, pray for the community of Cajamarca, and tell other people about it so more people are aware of the destruction being caused by our hands.

This is yet another example of how much ground is being lost (literally) in the battle between profit and concern for the common good. And this issue does not stop short of touching the life of each and every one of us. But if you are really interested, don’t just take my word for it. Do research. Learn more. Visit. Look at images of gold mines in Peru. Do anything. But don’t do nothing.

Thanks for reading. I wish you the best!

water wars

Things have been pretty stirred up here in our neck of Chimbote these past few days.  Apparently, something broke, or something had to be turned off, or something, and what we know for sure is that this whole corner of the city has been without water for five whole days with no certainty of when it’s coming back.

In our part of town, the city water usually comes twice a day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon, for an hour or two at a time.  During that time period, most households fill up large tanks, some on the ground and some on top of the roof, for daily usage.  Once in awhile, the water doesn’t show up, so most people have enough capacity to last a day or two on what they have, but not much longer.  Sometimes a specific house or street will go several days without water, but in that case neighbors are quick to share.  In this case, we’re going on six days of no water to an area of perhaps 3-5,000 households (or maybe more), with no forewarning that people should conserve as much as possible. 

We didn’t even notice until day 3 when one of our neighbors commented on it.  We, unlike most households, have a small well in our backyard that fills automatically when the city water comes.  Then we pump it to a tank on our roof, and thus get running water.  So we started conserving – minimal showering, saving sink water to flush the toilet, etc. – and we still haven’t run out completely.

Saturday night, just about the time when everybody had finally run out of water, I walked out of theater practice and saw a huge line up of people with their buckets lined up on the curb.  Several blocks away, a huge water truck was making its way toward us.  It seemed like a good solution, so I went home unconcerned.  A little while later I went with a neighbor family to take buckets to be filled by the same truck.  What I saw when I got there was complete chaos – the hose on the back of the water truck open, with nobody designated to control it, and ten to twenty people pushing and shoving with their buckets to get filled up.  People were yelling, water was being spilled, the truck driver tried to do his best by advancing when it seemed to get too crazy and going to a spot in the line that was more orderly.  But then people would just bombard the water hose all over again, pushing and yelling to get their share. 

My 15-year-old neighbor said to me, “And these people claim to be Christians.” 

I told him, “In the moment of desperation, we forget what it means to be Christian.”  But I don’t know who’s to blame.

Suddenly, with the water hose still open, the truck driver just took off, leaving water spilling out and lots of people with empty buckets behind him.  I suppose he finally just got fed up.  I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.

Since that night, the situation seems to have calmed down a bit.  Other water trucks have been coming to fill buckets, and people have realized that there is enough to go around.  But we still wait anxiously, because when conserving water, sanitation tends to go down, everyone seems a little more stressed out, clothes don’t get washed, plants don’t get watered, etc., etc.  It’s okay, though.  Our lives aren’t being threatened, and hey, millions of people around the world live in worse conditions every day, so I can push my water conservation to the limit for a few days. 

It does make one pause and think, though.  The poverty in Chimbote is not a desperate poverty, but where there is a denial of a basic right, there is undignified living.  So we will continue to fight, so that Jesus may be dignified in every man, woman, and child in Chimbote, in Peru, and around the world.

-----

Two days after I wrote the original post, today, I am finally posting it, and I am happy to say that the water is back!  Yesterday´s newspaper headline on the front page was ¿Until When? with a huge photo of people waiting with their buckets.  Finally lots of pressure got them to hurry up and fix whatever was broken!

"just being" together

On Sunday, March 18, the Peruvian government issued a presidential decree that it would come down much more harshly on informal mining (mining of whatever mineral without belong to a specific company, i.e., somebody who has iron ore on their land so they just mine it and sell it).  Later that day, hundreds of men and women who work in informal mining got together all over the country to voice their opinion.  In Peruvian democracy, that means blocking major highways so that no travel or commerce can happen, thereby calling everyone’s attention.  This time, it meant blocking the Pan-American Highway in a town called Casma, about 2 hours south of Chimbote, thus restricting any travel whatsoever to the capital, Lima, from anywhere in the northern part of the country.

Normally, it wouldn’t phase me too much as I really spend most of my time in Chimbote, but this time, I was especially grateful for the strike, because I happened to have a visit from two people that I love very much, and because of the strike got to spend another whole day with them.  Yes, my parents have now experienced cuy, anticuchos, crazy taxi drivers, dust upon dust upon dust, hand-washing, 24-hour cars honking and dogs barking, the delicious odor of the fish factories, Peruvian rice, fresh maracuyá juice, the sparkling waves of the Bay of Chimbote, the serenity and poverty and diversity of the agricultural zones surrounding the city, cold showers, ceviche AND chicarrón de pescado (yum!), Peruvian hospitality, and lots of others things that make up my daily life… (by the way, if there are words above that you don’t understand, that means you need to come visit Peru!)  As my mom said so well, meeting the people of Peru is much better than seeing the touristy sites of Peru!

But most of all, we got to hang out, catch up, get to know each other again (I’m only begin to discover all the characteristics I’ve inherited from them), have fun, laugh, talk about God and a little about politics (but not too much, haha), and as my dad said, just “be.” 

So for that extra day… thank you to the miners for standing up for their rights (and for resolving the conflicting in good timing!), hair dresser who had a cancelled appointment, to the Confirmation leaders who had to go it alone in the rehearsal, to our feedlot employees who were reliable and helped my dad be stress-free, to Jeff for lending an extra hand at home when he could have been doing a million other things for spring break, to Kim for taking care of Zoe, to Orbitz for finally referring us to American Airlines, to American Airlines for at least attempting to reduce to transfer fees, to Giancarlo for being relentless with the bus line, to my community mates for being all-around amazing, and to my PARENTS, Steve and Joan, for stepping outside their comfort zones into a completely foreign and unknown world, trusting that everything will work out, in order to better understand their daughter and why she does what she does. 

We live the lives that we live so that they may be shared, and in that sharing we all walk a little deeper into the mysterious beauty of life. 

god in a lion suit

^"People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them." -Mark 10:13-16

Hello everyone!

Here I am updating my blog.. I`m at the sister`s house helping to translate for a meeting, but it turns out they only need me when the connection goes bad so in the meantime I thought I`d write a little update :)

I was supposed to be leaving for a camping trip on the beach in an hour and a half... but last night the few youth leaders who had committed to going all had "last minute changes" in their availability, so the trip is postponed (which means cancelled). It`s okay for me, because we would have had to stay up all night to finish sewing our rice-sack tent.  Now we can finish it tranquilamente for the next venture.

Last night was the closing presentation for our kids summer program at the parish.  Each class prepared a little number for the parents, which included theater (La Niña de la Selva/The girl from the Jungle), dance (one from the jungle and one from the highland), and a couple of songs.  For our English class we presented the camp song "Baby Shark," so they will forever remember that tiburón is shark!  (important if they ever find themselves on a beach in the U.S.) It`s amazing how much the emotion and nervousness involved in a formal presentation can really bring people closer together, especially children!  The high emotion wasn`t enough to calm some of our most rowdy kids, but I suppose the lion running around stage attacking the other actors when it`s not his turn adds to the entertainment. 

We formed a pretty tight community, as several parents told me that their children "acostumbraron," or got used to their classes at the parish.  We hope they continue attendance!  There`s lots of work to do in terms of building up children`s ministry in our parish, and it`s a tiring job, but I think we did it pretty well!

Lately I`ve been becoming more and more interested in liturgical ministry, especially in relation to youth.  I´ve never been a huge fan of Catholic liturgies, finding that my faith really came alive in direct encounters with people, and not so much in the church building.  But the institution of our Catholic faith maintains that the liturgy is the center of our shared faith, so I´ve begun to ask, if that`s true, why don`t I feel it?  And I think it has a lot to do with the way we go about liturgy.  Instead of asking how to make the liturgy come alive for its participants, we restrict ourselves to the way it "should be" or the way it`s always been done.  The point of Eucharist, of liturgy, is communion.  Why do we not create a space the promotes encounter with the person sitting in front of or behind us? Why our style of praying really reflect the intimacy and union that their words express?  If young people are going to see that the liturgy is even more important for our parish community than game nights, sports tournaments, and trips to the beach, all of which we do really well, they need to be shown that it`s true.  Just repeating "the liturgy is important, the Eucharist is the center of our fatih" isn`t going to do it.  They have to be shown, they have to feel it. 

Anyway, theory is one thing.  Practice is another.  And right now, chasing around a growling 5-year-old boy in a lion suit is what brings us together, what reminds us of our common call.  So we`ll continue looking for ways to enhance our faith, but we won`t reject the value of what we have!

Thanks for reading.  Would love to hear from you!

Wishing you PEACE in your heart and RESTLESSNESS in your spirit :)

merry christmas and a happy new year!

Well, Christmas went off with another big bang this year, literally, as midnight was welcomed with lots of Roman candles and sparklers (plus a flower or two).  Of course, it was a small show compared to a week later as the streets filled with life-size dolls burning away last year´s old to make room for this year´s new.  But back to Christmas.  My theater group opened Christmas Eve Mass with the nativity play, in which I starred one of Gabriel´s side-kicks in a white gown with hands folded in prayer and a smile on my face.  It went well and the mass was nice-- it was the first Mass said by our new priest, but unfortunately he didn´t give the homily so we didn´t really get a good taste of him yet!  After Mass we hung around for awhile, giving Christmas hugs to all our parish friends and taking pictures with the life-size nativity.  Then we went home to prepare a delicious dinner of Velveeta macaroni and cheese shells with ketchup (a special treat for us!) until midnight, when we put baby Jesus in the nativity and went outside to light fireworks with all the neighbors.  We mixed the Peruvians traditions with our own and waited til Christmas Day to open presents (by the way thank you for all the cards and gifts!) and lounge around.

But Christmas wasn´t all relaxing!  Since I work in youth ministry in our parish, it was also an important time for activities.  As has become tradition, the youth movement's biggest Christmas project this year was a chocolotada for about 60 of the poorest children in our parish.  But unlike tradition, this year we decided to do it a little differently.  They still received the signature panetón and hot chocolate, but the event was not advertised as a chocolotada.  Instead, we designed it as a birthday party for Jesus.  With animation similar to that typical of birthday parties here, each youth group presented a fun Christmas song or skit.  I acted as Wendy in my theater group´s presentation of Peter Pan 2.  The show culminated in a live representation of Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, and angels (featuring my very own housemate Katie doing her best to hold a crying, hair-pulling, very heavy baby Jesus).  After circling the patio with the holy family, the kids re-entered the party room, where their gifts were arranged around a candle.  Each child then received a paper heart with the explanation that Jesus doesn´t need us to gift him expensive things, just our hearts.  One by one, they located their heart next to the candle, picked up a gift, and handed the gift to another child.  Amazingly, their pacience lasted almost to the last child, when they did start getting a little ansy!  It was a beautiful celebration (with very few flaws) in which the youth groups united together to give a clear message to the kids: Christmas isn´t about the gifts we receive but about sharing the love that Jesus came to give us.  Perhaps the kids got more excited by the piñatas at the end, but Jesus´ love was very apparent in the laughter, sincerity and participation of the youth and children alike.

New Year´s was also wonderful with a visit from my brother, Scott!  I think he got a good taste of Chimbote at New Years... fish smell, burning dolls and fireworks, and ceviche.  Now it´s time to get into full summer mode-- hot weather, snow cones, beach, volleyball, home improvements, summer school at the parish, evening games at the youth center, etc.  This week my community mates and I are cleansing our bodies.  That means nothing but raw veggies, apples, vegetable broth, and juiced fruits!  By the end of the seven days our insides should be thanking us for flushing out all the sugar and grease that has been consumed in the past month...  though right now I really just want a big bowl of rice and a Reese´s!

Thanks for reading!  I wish you a very happy new year as you embark anew on God´s mission for you in the world!