the fight that made us see

i guess i am finding it hard to put myself and my life in words here. so much of what i experience on a day-to-day basis is challenged by my previous understanding of myself and what i know to be true. this past week there was a fight in semillas that left a batch of children hurting, volunteers crying, and a fear that grew out of the fact that the space we worked to make safe, clearly was not.

christmas time, we are told, is a very difficult and stressful time for people who live in the third world. some of this is due to the social pressure put on families to provide gifts for their children. the reality is that some families can´t afford to buy enough food to eat everyday, let alone splurge on extras like toys. this creates a lot of tension in households in our neighborhoods, and we have been led to believe that this is one reason for the violent and aggressive behavior that has suddenly srpung up in our children.

but hearing this from a local, and understanding the cultural and social contexts that go into the behaviors of others, somehow didn´t make it any easier for me to process what happened. my heart is still bumping up against the bruises of the children´s pain, and the fact that they act on their anger in the only way they know: with fists.

i am coming to see that i have no answers here. i cannot change the situations that these kids come from, I can not control the way they act and behave, and I don´t have an educational background in counseling or organzing people politically or financially helping to start microbusinesses. all I can do is model a better way, a way that perphaps they have not been shown. all i can do is be.

and that is hard. it makes you sit with pain and wriggle uncomfortably. in the western world, we are taught to believe that if something is wrong, you can change it. we believe that we are in control of our lives and our environments. but here that is not the case, and my sure will power cannot collect the children of broken families and pull them into a safer and better life.

i can do is pray, because if there is a way, God has it. i don´t. Being here has enforced the idea that I have to believe in something bigger than myself. i have to believe there is a source of power and good and justice that can lift people out of the suffering they are in. because i cannot.

pray for the kids here. pray for the work God does in their lives 24/7 and that He will guide the work we do 2 hours a day.

it took a fight, two boys, four fists, to make me see how little i have control over. and while it was uncomfortable to not have power in that situation it gave me a little glimpse of this world, of this life, of our human condition. we are not in control, but He who is greater is. and that is why we are called to TRUST.

we cannot do it alone.

Season of Joy

Hello All! Merry Christmas from the land of the sweating sun. I pray all of you are well and enjoying the advent season.

I have receieved a few e-mails from people asking what they can send for Christmas, and with the help of my community we thought of a few things that our programs could use. Just to restate, we are not in NEED of anything, we are very blessed and fully capable of running our programs and doing our jobs with the supplies we have. One of the tennants of our mission is to live in simplicity, and therefore we are trying our best to live without the luxuries of home, in order to be in solidarity with our neighbors here. With that in mind, if you would like to send anything to the program we will welcome it with open arms and gracious hearts.

1. Vitamins- we want to start giving the children at our program vitamins, so donations of chewable tablets or flinestones would be greatly appreciatied.
2. Books - The hospital where I work is severly underfunded and there are no resources for educational materials. Andrew and I have found it to be very helpful to bring along the few children´s spanish books we have. Here are a few we don´t have that I would like to acquire:
- Cordoroy (my favorite as a child)
- Madeline
- Rosaurio en Bicicleta
Any spanish written material would be wonderul, primarily for children ages 4-9.
3. Stickers- our incentive program to reinforce positive behavior allows kids to earn stickers based on attendance and good behavior. They LOVE getting stickers, as they are a novelty here. 4. Erasers- they seem to be what we go through the fastest at the afterschool programs
5. Water paints and brushes- they can be pretty expensive here


Please continue to pray for our community here, the people we live and work with, and God´s will to be done.

**To update everyone, our beloved community member Kasia went home today due to her worsening medical condition. Please pray that she heals rapidly and that the doctors can figure out a way to restore her health. She will be very missed by everyone here.

I pray that this Christmas season we come to see the truth of what Christ´s birth did for the entire world and all of creation.

hugs and snow angels.
colie

Turkey day

Greetings friends and family from a hot Thursday afternoon, coincidently a Happy Thanksgiving is in order, although it feels nothing of the day here. I just arrived home from working at the hospital, and hopping off a sweaty bus and preparing for an afternoon job are all things I am not prone to doing on turkey day. Unlike the rest and the food that I know families across the states are enjoying right now, I am no where near a kicthen, a football game or sweatpants. Bummer. However the bright side of things, which I have found there is one for every occasion here is Ecuador, is that our program directors have invited us to dine at their house this evening, which includes access to their outdoor poor and use of their cable TV. I am ready to slip into some holiday festivities, but instead of anticipating snow, I will be hoping for a tan :)

There is so much to be thankful for, but to start I will share my newed perspective in the hope of which I claim my life on, Christ. Yesterday I had a one-on-one interview with the founder of our program, Father Ronan, and like always, when his mouth opened, jewels and treasures poured forth. This is what I learned. God only spoke one word. God spoke one word because he knew there was only one word necessary, and only one word worth speaking. This word became flesh and dwelt among us. Jesus is and always will be God´s gift of life to us. God knew that all we would ever need could be found in Christ; he is our anwers (the model of living), our way, our truth and our light. Everything we have starts with Christ, and ends without him.

Living in the third world and witnessing the profound suffering of my fellow family members, I have come to see that indeed God´s love is needed now in our time more than ever, because evil does exist. I believe it does because I have seen horrible things done to people, friends and communities; in suffering there is always a darker side causing it. Father Ronan reminded us last night that while evil does exist, there is an anecdote. Love. When Jesus came down to earth, he brought the only anwer that will ever cure the world and help us to heal; himself, which is love.

I am praying that all of you, in the spirit of thanksgiving, may grasp and understand the love that God has for us, and rejoice in praise. Let that love tranform your life, or in the words of Oscar Romero, ¨Fall in love, stay in love, and it will determine everything.¨



Happy Thanksgiving.

A New Day

Well its been a little over theree months since we first arrived, and the dusty days are wearing on and making me stronger, I am sure, in ways I can´t yet see. I still find life here to be surreal, and sometimes I get giddy when I think about the fact that I am actually here, living in Ecuador! However, life in other ways, like work, has managed to become more routine, so I pray against complacency, and for a revival of spirit and energy to give to the people I am in community with.

So OBAMA?
We were invited to the US Consulate´s party held at the Hilton Colon downtown; so fancy. There were a bunch of people from the embassy there and we got to mingle with other American volunteers who are here volunteering, mainly Peace Corps. It was a fun event to get all dressed up for, and then the excitment of having a new president was almost too much for many of the people in the group, myself included, to bear. We watched excitedly on the big screens posted around the ball room as Obama´s numbers climbed through the roof, and meanwhile we tried to stack up on every finger food that passed us. (all american delicacies, cole slaw served in shot glasses, mini hamburgers, and chicken nuggest served with toothpicks on cloth napkins). By 11 the results were clear, and many celebrations were had in the lobby, including some extending hugs and tears. All I can say is that the world felt new and golden, and my hope has been refreshed that things might actually begin to change. I pray they will. It was quite an experience being out of the country, realizing the global impact that his presidency has on the world. It was fasicnating to be part of history, the people here have been enthralled to witness a man of color come into one of the most powerful positions designated to man. I know that it gives them encouragement to keep fighting.

About life.
I still go through many days where I question why I am here, and I continually have to lean on the Lord for that answer. It is a process in living, learning to surrender my ideas of the world as God presents me with new ones that aren´t necessarily comfortable or natural for me to accept. I have been learning a lot about the faults of individualism, and as a product of a society and generation that was raised to be independent, I am learning backwards how to be humbled, to be vulnerable with my community memebers, to recogonize that what I have to give is not my own, but from the Lord, and that we have to love together, I can´t do anything alone. I have been fighting alot within myself to be less competitive with the world, to TRUST God that I am exactly where I need to be, and that I have something to contribute to the people here, and that they too have things to teach me.

My Father, who art in heaven.
I had this vision yesterday of God at the end of a rope. He is always pulling me along, but in my greed, my hands are usually reaching out to grab things as we pass by, trying to balance my own thoughts and ideas and relationships. But I saw that as I collected more stuff, I could not hold on and I let go of the rope, leaving me stuck behind. In order to hold onto God, I have to use both hands, and I have to let go of all the other things I am trying to carry, including self-importance and a sense of mission. I have to have faith that God knows everything I need, and that He will provide it for me, without making me do it on my own. That is very hard, my mind tells me that I can provide for myself, and that I know what is best for myself too. I am asking God to break down that mentality in me. I am trying to hold on with two hands.

Things you can pray for.
1. Kids at the hospital. We have one patient who has been there for 3 months and it is starting to wear on her spirit. Pray that her parents will have the gentleness she needs, and that they will be able to conitnue to fund her medical needs while they are both out of work.
2. Patience. Semillas, our afterschool program, is going through some structural changes. We are still struggling with discipline issues as a whole large group, so please pray that we conitue to serve these kids in love, even the days where we hit the ends of our ropes.
3. Assertiveness. I am a very passive person, and here I need to have a voice and stand up for things that are wrong, instead of assuming that by being silent I am being kind to everyone´s opinions. Pray that I can confront things that are not of God´s truth, and confront them with love.
4. Christian community. I am missing all my friends and spiritual leaders in the states, and although I live with 6 other individuals, we are all at very different places with God. Pray that God will continue to provide me with people who will challenge me and hold me lovingly accountable to be a disciple of the Lord. I need spiritual direction, as the idea of vocation is still looming in my thought box. It is a process that is exciting to me, and I know God will provide the advice and guidence I need to explore His calling on my life.
5. Faith. Many days I can´t see the light at the end of the tunnel, pray that I walk through the storm, in places where I cannot go in my own humaness, but can only pass into with the strength of the Holy Spirit.

Remember that God renews each of us day by day. Our indentities are moving closer into the radiant and brilliant glory of Christ; cling to that promise. I pray that your hearts and lives are well surrendered to God, that you live TRULEY, in honesty and openess with one another, and that you will lay room in your soul for the people God calls to pass through it.

the man on the bus

the other day i had a curiuous incident with a man on a bus. he was sitting in front of me, and upon reazling that I was a forgienger he proceeded to turn around and casually stare at me for the remainder of the trip. I thought this was odd, and at times he would try to mumble to me in low spanish. I wasn´t quite sure how to respond, so I acted in a reserved manner and tried politely not to converse with him. He seemed to want to tell me about his family that lived in that states, but as we are taught, when we have red flags go up, obey them.

i went home and laughingly told the my communiuty about the man who stared on the bus. We chuckled and everyone shared stories of the same thing that had happened to them. I felt weird about it though, like maybe I hadn´t done what was right, and if he was a harmless old man, longing to regale stories of his past to a youth who might hear him out, I had sadly failed him.

Two weeks passed when I got on the bus again and who was sitting right in front of me but my buddy. My friend Carolina who happened to get on at the next stop, hopped on and in English I asked her if she remembered the man who stared. Looking to my left she noticed the old man, gaping again, and we both giggled out loud.

The next stop a few vendors climbed on to sell their goods, and the man in front of me bought a bag of fruits that they have in Ecuador. By the man´s clothes and his lack of teeth, I could see his poverty, and knowing that he was headed to the same place I live, I knew he didn´t have much spare change to spend. After he fished out 20 cents from his pocket, I hoped in earnest that he would face forwards and not continue to look at me as he ate. But to my dismay he held out the bag for me, and asked me to accept a gift from him. I told him that I couldn´t, but thank you for the offer. He insisted however, with the generosity of the people here that I will never understand, and upon taking the bag I smiled at him warmly to let him see my gratitude, the response he had put his 20 cents towards.

He turned around and for the first time making direct eye contact, he said, ¨We are all sisters and brothers. We are all the same. God bless you.¨

I felt shame rise up inside of me, for turning him down, for refusing to converse with him earlier, for looking at him the same way that everyone else on the bus did; like he was different. He humbled me right on the spot, and humilty, although a virtue, is always painful. That is what makes it humility.

I have been seeing that love has no divisions. I have divisions. I divide out what I think I can afford to give to others, or what I think they need, or in vain, who I think will give back to me. Love doesn´t hold back, there isn´t a shortage of it. Love is God, and God is in all things. We kill and destroy that love when we refuse to give it to all equally, because we think we know. I don´t know. I have no answers. Yet God in his mercy, still gives me love.

And that´s how I saw the face of Christ on a bus.

Anger

Angry. This is a new feeling for me. I grew up most of my life feeling like I wasn´t allowed to feel angry, always assuming that it was wrong and that I should get rid of the buildling emotion inside of me so it never fell out and hurt someone. For so long I have learned to hide anger, to stuff it down, or to let it out in small ways that don´t hurt people.

But here in Duran, I am angry. And I am realizing that it is okay.

The other day at our afterschool program we had to kick out two of our students for 2 months. What happened is that we asked them to leave the program earlier that day for fighting, and they proceeded to sneak back in and play in the dangerous part of the park (open sistern) and collect sharp objects. We had to chase them around the dangerous area, one of them already had a cast from a previously broken arm, all the while they laughed and giggled at their evasive game. In the end when we finally caught them they grabbed handful of rocks and threw them at the kids as we passed by on the way to the exit, physically carrying them out.

What breaks my heart, and what makes me mad, is that this is not their fault. They live in environment where they are not appreciaited, or loved, or given the opportunity to be kids. And they will soon, one day, be entering adolescence, where it will only get progressively harder for them to ever feel like they have value or that they are deeply cared for. The reason we have our program is for kids like them, who need to be reminded how special they are, to have a safe space to play, and to be surronded in an environment of caring people.

This incident opened up a huge wound in me, one that hurts for all the people that I am working with. I realized in the situation with my kids at the program that this evil, of many evils, is not their fault. They are victims of something much bigger, and they have no way out. Our system has mistreated them, and it will likely do so until they are old.

I have neighbors who have to run out of their houses and scream at passing water trucks in order to have enough to get by for a day. Sometimes these tanks stop, other times they do not. The piercing cries of women and chilldren up and down the street makes me wonder how I got here, and how it is that I am so spoiled. The hardest is to see the eyes of my neighbors when the tankers have passed; I see their worries spill out in front of me. If they will be able to feed their kids that day, or wash their clothes or bathe their bodies. How long will it be until another truck passes? Tomorrow? Two days? and what if it doesn´t stop again?

And the thing that is hardest for me is that I have water, in great abundance. At the turn of a faucet I could let it run for hours, fill bukcts and tubs and pots and pans, but 30 feet away from my house is a woman who will have to tell her child that today they won´t be any dinner. This injustice, boling under my skin, makes me angry.

But what do we do with anger? How do we carry all the pain in the world? I don´t want to be it in my community, I don´t want to internalize it, I don´t want to put it in on the kids, or their parents, who were likely raised the same way. I am angry at a system, a system that I am part of and contribute to. Whether in my power, in my ingroance, or in my privilege, I am in some way contributing to the harm of my brothers, the pain of my sisters, and the distress of my neighbors. We are all somehow connected to the evil that is being dumped on the human race.

The problem is that I want to do something to change it, but I cannot. I am not bigger than the system. I have no answers, which turns me directly to the one who does: God. God is the only person big enough to carry the weight and pain of injustice, and if I think what I am experiencing here is injustice, I cannot even fathom the things that people around the world live through and have to carry for the rest of their lives. Which brings me back to the fact that I am an instrument of God´s love, and that is the first thing I am ever called to be: love. God does not call me to change the world, or stop injustice. He doesn´t even call me to understand it, He knows I never will. But what He does call me to do is love, and not just my kids and my community, but even my enemies, the people that seem impossible and void of all humaness.

So that is where I am, at this difficult, impossible crossroad of love. What do I do with my anger? I have to give it to God, and pray. I cannot make myself love. I can try, but it won´t be enough. I don´t have enough to give. I have to have faith that the Holy Spirit is in me, and working through me to do the things God asks us to do for the kingdom, that are not of this earth. I have to believe that He will work through me, and in me, to change who I am.

A saying that has helped me is, ¨All lives have the same value, no matter where they are going.¨ If I am going to believe in God, and what he says, I have to start with love, and the belief that every human being has the right to be loved because God loves them.

I am trying to love. Please pray for me in that. I am praying for you as well, that the love of God will abound radiantly in you, and that together, with our anger, we can come into a deeper understanding of who God is. And why we are here.

Duran Duran

I thought I would be so much better at blogging since I love to journal, but its been tough getting to a computer that is fast enough to upload, so I apologize for those of you who have bee faithful in checking this and have been dissapointed.

Beach Day:

this past weekend was the first time that we went out of town for what we call ¨needed vacations.¨ Amy, Gina, Tracy and I all headed to the imfamous beaching spot in Ecuador, which we were told by everyone to visit. So come 6 in the morning we are awake, lotioning up and packing lunches and towels to go. It was a lovely 3 hour bus ride to the coast, but our dreams of laying in the sun all day were smushed by one small factor: there was no sun that day. In the cloudy and windy weather, so unlike what we have experienced here, we forged on to the beach to find an empty and mildly deserted strip of sand. It was cold and we shuffled along the playa looking for a dry spot to camp out and rest. While we were lookiung for spots a woman walked up to us and in frank Ecuadorian style she asked why were at the ugly beach. We said we didn´t know, and she invited us to follow her to the pretty beach.

After walking across the naval base we arrived at what appeared to be a much more tranquil and appealing spot and we proceeded to get to know our new friend. She was from Quito and offered up her house and free tour guides (her 2 sons) whenever we would have another weekend to get away. Before we knew it we were like old friends, chatting and regaling over the chilly weather. When her husband arrived, dressed lavishly in business attire, they proceeded to buy us peanuts with lime juice from a passing vendor and soon after we all had Pilsners, the local beer, in our hands. Their generosity was greatly appreciated and for a small moment I had my own flashback to Milwaukee, minus the lime.

We spent the rest of the day chasing away bored vendors who had the most intertesting assortment of things. From shell earrings to fresh lobster to table ends and lamps. We saw it all. We concluded the day at the beach with a rampage for the perfect eatery, trays over flowing with patecones, maderas and french fries, and then a final walk to the local ice cream store. Perfect.

To our surprise, we went to the bus stop and a bus headed to Guayaquil pulled in immediately. We boared, assuming a 15 minute wait to fill the bus. But sure enough, the second we hopped on the bus driver got on board and took off, leaving us to our own private coach bus. We chatted with the bus driver and his attendant, and after a while we were all taking pictures, including some shots offered by the driver to sit up on the coveted motor. Haha. Jimmy and Manuel proceeded to try to get our numbers for their upcoming 12 day vacation, but we politely declined and giggled our way back to the safe surrondings of Arbolito after our chillest day yet in Ecuador.

Scrubs:

The scrubs finally came in this week, and boy did it change more than we thought. To start, mine are 3 sizes too big so I feel like a little girl playing dressup or a college-aged student going out on Halloween. Everytime we leave the house I feel like an imposter. The first day on the bus though, all eyes were on us and it felt pretty funny to me that people thought we were doctors. If only they knew that I was in the stupid-kid science class at Marquette, ¨Plants, Pathogens and People¨ for non-science majors. Even when we crossed the busy streets, cars would stop and let us pass by, and one guy even offered us a friendly good morning and welcome to my country in english. nice.

but the best thing about the scrubs is the sudden transformation in the hospital staff we have seen, that may or may not be coincidental. The first day I wore the scrubs a nurse pulled me out of a room and invited me to have snacks in the forbidden break room where Andrew and I aren´t really allowed to go. After that another nurse approached me and asked for my help taking a patient down to get an X ray. On top of that, they have now asked us to help with more home visits (see next paragraph) and today when I brought in my latest medical slip, they gave me all of my medications for free and we had a good laugh about the parasites (following paragraph) that have been living in me.


Home Visits:

Our technical names at the hospital are case workers, but really they should call us entertainment directors or clowns because our main jobs are not nearly as important as they sound. I spend a good majority of the morning making silly faces at babies and having tickle fights with the kids. However, after a meeting with the head of the Department she feels like we are being under-utlized, which we agree, and she decided that we could start visting the homes of the outpatients with the social worker. My first visit was this past week. We went to a home a half hour outside the city. and when we arrived we had to climb up the broken steps to a second floor apartment. The room was bascially empty, save the piles of large medical boxes which we came to learn were for the grandmother who is bed ridden and needs a feeding tube.

After talking to the grandmother, who is the sole caregiver of our patient, we discovered that the downstairs was infested with rats, and that the aunt who was living with them at the time could only be there for another week. That means that the 13 year old girl is responsible for all duties in the house, and the 15 year old brother is responsible for providing for the family. It was heart breaking, to hear their struggles and know that the happy little boy in the hospital would return to this home, where he would have to grow up much quicker than any child.

The same can be said of all the children I have encountered here so far. Their eyes tell stories and hold wisdom that most children in the states will not carry until their early adult years.


Parasites:

I am the second to last person in the house to bring in a poop test, a process that every volunteer in the past has gone through. So earlier this week I finally took in my sample and the results came back as no surprise. Two parasites. I currently have worms and another parasite that I don´t know what it is in english. As of right now, everyone in the house has something, and most of us have the same thing. It isn´t serious, its nothing that some antibiotics won´t kill and I dont feel sick at all. In fact, after eating today I realized that the worms in me are also eating my food, and therefore figured out that I can technically get away with eating a lot more. Natural diet? I wouldn´t advise it. But when in Ecuador . . .

Jesus:

Jesus has been my most constant friend here. We did a spirituality night on the person of Jesus last week that focused on his Divine Humaness. Jesus was more human than any of us are, and the God we serve is in the same. He is a humble servant, continually loving us and serving us and taking the lowest position in our lives. God does not want to control us and have our obedience. He wants to give us everything He has, and on top of that He wants us to know that we are loved and free. Thinking of Jesus at the bottom makes me desire the same nothingness that he preached. That letting go of self has been one of my huge struggles here, and I am praying that I continue to walk in the divine humaness of Christ, instead of an exalted state of spiritual being. Many days when I feel tired and burdened by the weight of the world in Duran, I remember that Jesus too carried all of the emotions and pain, and that He walks with me through it all.

1 bed or 2

The other day at Semillas, our after school program, two little boys came running up to me. They had just caught word that we were, in fact, the gringos who lived in the big house at the end of the street. They had come to me to confer if this was true. Upon telling them that yes, I do live there with six other friends, their second question caused me to pause in my tracks. ¨Do you have one bed or two?¨ My heart froze for a little bit, like when you are walking outside and hear thunder and you try to believe for a second that it is not really going to rain. The first image that flashed across my mind was our guest room, two spare beds. Next my mind went to the office, huge double bed that is used perphaps a couple times a year. Quick count; four unused beds. And then my mind ran through all the houses I have passed that contain entire families and one mere matress for them all. No one had ever put my wealth and privelge in such simple or glaring light. How could I tell a boy, eyes full of question, that we have 10 beds in a house of 7 people?

I looked at him and the word ¨two¨ popped out of my mouth. He looked happy, like that was the answer he expected. He turned to his brother and they giggled a little bit, excited for my community that we had more than 1 bed, not realizing at all the confusion that his question would leave me swimming in for days. Afterwards the two brothers ran off to tell their friends what they had learned, murmured exchanges amongst the group, while I sat, trying to understand once again why I am here.

The answer was silent. nothing.

Living in the Spirit

Hello all,

I greet you from a sunny Sunday morning in Duran. The weather here seems to have shifted this morning, and as I walked to church I caught the cool breeze of a new season and it brought me right to the states, where fall is beginning to form on the trees and in the air. I miss fall, I miss sweatershirts and camp fires and walks outside without the tremor of sweat. The weather here will soon change to summer, the rain season is on the way coming in January and arching over until April. I already have my black rainboots picked out that I will likely sport for 4 months solid.


Weekend Updates:

This past weekend we had our first girls night in the community and it was wonderful. I think we all came to find ourselves on a different level, and the power of feminity that had been hidden amongst the presence of two gentlemen was rekindled and again I felt home, rememebering the rich community of women in the states that I thrive off of. We also had a vistor sneak into the group in the midst of discussion which caused quite the stir. A tiny little back mouse, the third we have seen in our house, streaked across the floor to create a full rooms of shrieks. Tracy jumped up and grabbed the garbage can and the search began. It ran into the corner and instead of trying to sneak into a hole the mouse, to our horror, jumped up. It jumped again, we screamed, and the in skirted into the kitched where we followed anxiously until at a few swats we trapped it. Crying out for the guard to help us, Elvis appeared in the doorway with a machete and a dust pan. Being the calm strong man he is, he proceeded to run the garbabe can back and forth in quick jerks until at last he lifted the lid and booted the mouse against the wall as we watched on the sidelines, in awr and terror at the death we just saw. Through the laughs of the night, I think I gained a six pack.

The following morning we set out for our first culture experience outside of Duran, a trip to a local community´s annual festival. The city of Milagro is the home of the Pineapple and boasts the freshest fruit around. We were invited by a patient of Tracy´s named Washington, and he guided us through the winding busy streets in search of a festival that actually didn´t exist. It was a different weekend. But the trip was not wasted, we waited whlie trucks of fresh pineapple were hauled in from the fields and from there we had our top picking. Our new friend, to pass the time, bought 25 manderine oranges for a dollar, and we stood on the corner of the street, spitting seeds, watching the world pass by in bicycles and cars, enjoying the luxury of a slow Saturday in a different place.

Afterwards we were invited to lunch with Washington´s family, and as were taking pictures of the pineapples in his rose garden they asked us if we wanted to see their pet turtle. Instead of going into the house to fetch it, Washington pulled out a shovel and began digging in the garden. With his bare hands he dug into the earth and pulled out a snapping turtle, dangling it in the air with a nonchalant expression. Not only did we take a million pictures with the pineapples as the request of Washington´s dad, we also have a full album of pictures with the roses and the turtle as well.

Saturday night we hit up the church for a night of bingo. The women from the church sell cards for a fundraiser, and come 7 oclock, the whole town was gathered outside for a night of number calling. A lot of kids from our afterschool program were there, so we let them teach us how to play and count down together all the spaces we were missing until we got a prize. We didn´t win. but we had 3 hours of free entertainment with the neighbors.

Life Updates:

Life here has been going well. The theme of my life the past few weeks has been community; the journey of living with other people and opening up and sharing with them who I authentically am. I consider myself a very laid back person, but I have been shown in the process of being intentional that a lack of intention is just as hard, if not harder, on a community than direct and honest communication . I have been challenged to dig into myself when I am bothered by someones actions, and find the words and the gentle spirit to bring my own confrontations to surface. I need prayers in this. Please lift me up for that.

I have been watching as God has grown and shifted my heart through this journey so far. I always forget how hard it is to be a Christian, to struggle to act out what you believe, instead of just thinking it. Somedays I am so tired and worn down that I forget to love, I forget the suffering of my neighbors, of my own community memebers. I have been praying that I will allow this experience to pass through me, instead of me trying to hang onto it and get out of it what I think I need or what I want. I think God is teaching me to break down the theme of Christianity and put it into a real and practical format of living. It´s not in the big decisions that we encounter God, as I had always thought and seen, but in the little minutes when we don´t feel like listening because we have to do a job, or letting our neighbors know they are loved, even when we do not feel we have that love to give, even to ourselves.

I am being told that internet closes in 5 minutes because the family who owns it would like to eat together. I love Ecuador and how they live out what is most important to them.

I am praying for you, please pray for me also.

Ants are my life

From the time I awake in the morning until I go to bed at night, ants have become a part of my entire day. When I put on clothes in the morning, they are there with me. When I grab breakfast from the cupboard, they are busy working on my breakfast. As I walk out of the house and reach for my bag, they are already in it, awaiting for me to depart with their presence trailling behind. I feel them on my arms not with a worried suspision, but because they are actually charging down my arms and legs. At times they are in so many places that I doubt my existence before them. They make beautiful patterns on the walls of my bedroom, they create endless opportunites for toxic games in the afternoons, and at night they are always waiting in my bed for us both to leave the world behind in sleep. We got ants.

The other day my friend Gina and I got a craving for chocolate banana cake, so we set out in the early afternoon to collect all of the ingredients. We whipped up quite a batch in about 30 minutes, and after a good hour in the oven we pulled out our creation to admire its perfect smell. Because we had all finished lunch and felt full we decided to wait until after dinner to eat our cake. But then once dinner had passed and we were stuffed to the max, we decided to extend the treat only a few hours more, until after our nightly prayer.

When 9:30pm rolled around, we were all pretty pumped, not only to pray, but to get our prayers out quickly. As we approached the safely burried treasure that we hid sneakly in the oven, a prevaillig sense of horror and admiration came over us as we opened the door to find an entire army awaiting us. Now it is hard to tell you approximatly how many ants were on the cake, because ants are a quantity that is hard to see in your mind. If I told you there were 300 that might give you the same visual image as a person I told there were 1,000. Needless to say, the cake was almost covered, and the white pan had only spots of white left.

We don´t get many treats in Ecuador, as a matter of fact I believe this might have been the first desert in a month, so you can imagine the inner crying that was going on the entire time we discovered our partners. It was pretty rough, there was some whining, even some light wailling, and after such a long week, not many of us had anything left to fight with. However, deep in everyones stomach lives the desire to perservere against all odds. So we decided to do what any normal young college aged adult would do. We decided we would bake them off.

We put the cake in the oven, cranked the heat, and watched as the ants on the pan fell to their death 13 inches below, while those who were on the cake melted right into the gooey layers. When we took it out, after a brief discussion on protein and a little convincing on some of our parts, we set out to devour the same cake which minutes before had broken our hearts. Removing the cooked ants with some skilled knives and finger nails, we all dug in with two hands until we had licked the entire pan clean. I ate more ants than I know, but I am assuming somewhere around 30. Yum.

And that is how we coined our phrase for the year. ¨Bottoms up.¨

Spotchy Updates

Spilling thoughts come to me as I try to recollect all the pieces of my life that have happened in these past few weeks. I will go by subject so you can skim lazily through and select those which interest you the most. Sorry for the random order and chaos of tidbits.

Birthday:

August 22, it was a lovely day in which I awoke to chocolate bread, a luxury that our house reserves only for special occasions like birthdays, or in other cases, events like today when Tracy and I hauled it down the street, sweating profusly, to catch a bus, all the while passing an entire neighborhood of shocked eyes. Missing the bus, we felt we need to be rewarded; behold, the chocolate bread. So yes, the morning started off with some warm slices of deliciousness with coffee and was followed by an amazing 2 hour reflection of our time here. Our director gave us a list of questions to reflect on, breaking down the truths that we have gathered here and how our lives have already been dramatically altered due to God´s gracious hands. It was the first long gap of time where I have been able to sit with the Lord and be, letting HIm fill me with everything I need, all that I do not know. I pray it was fruitful.

We had a few meetings after that and we went to our normal afternoon sites, mine being Semillas de Mostaza orMustard Seed, and the kids prepared cards for me and sang happy birthday in Spanish. I got lots of hugs from children with dirt scabbed hands and faces, and their joy made mine complete. One of our more troubled students, Winkie, was especially sweet on this particular day, and he asked Amy to write a note to me that said,¨Happy birthday colie. With all the love in my heart, I care for you.¨ Then he proceeded to invite me to dance at his house later on that night, since Ecuadorian birtdhays are always accompanied with dancing. We kindly said our regrets, but enjoyed the invitation for the rest of the day.

After that my friend Kasha made a delicious supper of things I don´t know how to say in english or spanish, (so yeah, super good) and we topped it off with a cake made by our dearneighbor, which I proceded to get my face shoved in, full force. mmmmm.

At night, the clincher, we went downtown to the IMAX theater, the largest one in South America, and there, full emotion, the 13 of us watched The Dark Knight, with Christian Bale´s face in IMAX size. It was amazing. Amidst girls shrieking and some of us crying and giggling in delight, we took in a piece of America there on the big screen and felt at home for a few hours.

I missed everyone back at home, but a birthday out of the country is nothing to complain about.

Work:

My job has been going well so far, each day we meet a slew of new kids who usually arrive the night before and are tired and often scared. The staff here has asked us to accompany the social worker to do some home visits, so I think that Andrew and I will be getting a deeper glimpse at the realities of the children starting next week. Everyday we have new tales to tell about life in the infectious deisease ward, and typically we spend most of dinner laughing off our incompetence and lack of knowledge about the medical world that we are suddenly a part of. Here is one such story.

The other day a small girl came into the hospital and she didn´t have any parents with her. Immediatly I took it upon myself to take care of her and begin to ask her about herself. At first she was hesitatnt, but after a few minutes she was okay and well ready to give me a dose of herself. After leaving the room for a while, I returned to find that she had spilled some water on her bed. She didn´t look like she was doing very well, so I asked her what happened. Since she didn´t reply I just said Agua, Water? she said yes, so we went on. A few minutes later she was bored and started sticking her fingers in the water and putting in on me, giggling and saying agua. I didn´t really mind, since anything that makes the kids smile is well worth any cost. This game continued for a while until the water was on my face and arms and I was about done being wet. As she moved over to start on my hair, I looked down and realized the puddle was not limited, but in fact it extend far beyond the little pool I originally saw. Glancing at where the waterfall came from I saw a dark spot reinging over her light blue overalls. I looked at her and said, Agua? No. and looking down, she, behind little brown eyes, shook her head and looked up and whispered, ashamed, pee pee. There I was, covered in urine, not sure what to do next, so unknowingly I got up to seek the help of a nurse and upon finding one, it came to me that I didn´t know the vocabulary to descirbe the situation. After serveral attempts, with no success, I proceeded to the last resort. Looking at myself and at the girls sheets, I pointed to both and said pee-pee, pee-pee. That was my lesson in humility for the day.

The hospital is slightly disorganizd, and they don´t have much for us to do yet, so we still wander around and hang out with kids, trying not to disturb the nurses that are working there. They are trying to expand us out into other areas of the hospital, so we are praying that we get to visit with more kids, and share Christ´s love with the other families who are confined in fear and anticipation of going home.

We decided, Andrew and I, that we both really want scrubs, so we had been working up the courage to ask our boss for scrubs. The day finally came last Wednesday, and after her apporval (yes!) we set out on a hunt for our comfy new work clothes. After questioning the nurses and staff, who proved to know very little about where their clothes came from, we went exploring. We ended up in a sketchy room, somewhere far burried in the hospital, with the elevator man, and another dude who came out of the closet and asked us what we wanted written on the cloth. Needless to say we didn´t find them in the hospital, but thanks to Dr. D, Andrew´s dad, we are having them mailed down to us from the states. We thought aqua green would be nice, and the next day we showed up to see a few surgical students in that exact color. oh well. When in Ecuador . . .

Community:

I haven´t really gotten to explain the people that are breathing my air and sharing my heart day in and out. I will try to trace them for you and give you an idea of their life.

My House:
Tracy- kindred spirit, warm, humble, intelligent, amazing singer, hails from Cincinnati
Gina- fun, spunky little burst of laughter, going to be an elementary teacher, from NE Ohio
Carolyn- atheltic, laid back Boston rower, caring and motherly, friend who shares my akwardness, works at Semillas with me
Amy- articulate, passionate and in-charge female power from Boston, works at Semillas too
Danny- funny, compassionate blue-eyed jokster from Milwaukee (holla) also a card shark :)
Andrew- a blend of different characters, chatty, kid at heart, honest and overall hilarious without trying to be, works with me at the hospital

Other House:
Elyse- loving, warm spirited, theologically versed and an artistic photographer, from CT
Kasha- energetic, intelligent, excellent cook and avid cleaner from Portland
Karen- wise, experienced volunteer, patient and organized, Missouri
Lauren- fun, loud and bubbly spring of life with a great laugh from Maryland
Melissa- Earnest, wonderfully quirky, and whole hearted from Minnesota, Midwest girl with the funniest sayings (Shark Bombs!)

They are beautiful people, placed at this spot in my life for specific reasons I get to spend all year exploring. I feel blessed by them daily. I could not do this alone.

God:

I am seeing Him all over the place here. The things that I have been learning recently are FAITH and REST.

Yesterday I read a reflection about how our common sense is in battle with our spiritual sense. What we know and understand cannot take the place of God´s plan in our life; that would be limiting the God that we serve. Trying to figure out the mystery of who Christ is by trying to make sense of what He asks is impossoble. So often the things that we want or feel comfortable with, are not the things which God calls us to. Therefore, recently I have been trying to live in FAITH- the tension of life, trying to surrender the ways that I seek to live in comfort or where I try to be in control of my life. At times I catch myself trying to position the world around me, the way I want it to be or think it needs to be for me to be a part in it. I am in the process of figuring out the areas of my life where God is calling me to step without knowing, what He is calling me to give up so that He can take up and work in me. Please pray for me in that.

The other thing that I have been feeling on my heart is this call to Rest. I used to see it as an invitation to do nothing, to wait and let God do everything for me so that I wouldn´t have to struggle at all. I am beginning to see the call to Rest as a call to let go of my life, to give up the people and desires I value most, so that the Lord can take hold of them. It is more a call to surrender and submit, which can be the hardest to do, but in the end God´s peace is there waiting for us, and in Him then, we can Rest. When we try to live by ourselves, without His help or strength, we walk blindly towards that which we think will fill us. It never works. When God calls us to Rest, He calls us to give up the destination we are trying to get to, in order that He may lead us to the water of life which we really crave. Rest in the Lord means to give up yourself, and that is where I am struggling now.


If anyone is looking for a good book to read I am halfway through No Man is an Island, by Thomas Merton, and it is amazing. Thanks for all your prayers and cards, they mean a lot to me.

love from below the Equator,
colie

Dios es Amor

For those of you who don´t ¨habla espanol¨ Dios es Amor means that God is love. And that is what I have found here in Duran.

I arrived in Ecuador on August 4th and we made a wonderful trip in the airport, buying up all last minute goodies that we knew we would go without for a whole year, chocolates, skittles, and yes, our last American beer. We arrived at night, the hazy lights of the city aglow and alert as we paraded our way through the dusty roads to what would become our new home. The volunteers from the past year were still in their houses we when we arrived, and for this, we acted as retreatants for the week, staying in the retreat house. We got to tour around the city, meet the neighbors, and learn how to use bottled water to brush our teeth and wash our face and cook all our food. Not as easy as you think.

The poverty here has struck me a new level. Not necessarily deeper, but perphaps more real. To give you a picture of where I live, most of the people in our neighborhood live in cane houses, containing 1 room, a shared bed and no running water. We are the exception to the rule, which can be an uncomfortable desparity to live with most days. We have a concrete house, with 8 spacious bedrooms and a large chapel area and common space. We also exist in the reality of a guarded fence, an armed guard and 2 watch dogs. Typical Ecuadorians? No.

The children in our street are beautiful, they immediatley knew our names and call to us everytime that we pass them in the streets. Most days I feel famous.

After a 2 week process of discerning our vocational callings, I felt God´s hand lead me to a place I never though I would be; a hospital. I will be working as a caseworker in the Children´s Hospital in downtown Guayaquil, a city of approx 3 million people, in the infectious disease ward, primarily with children who have been diagnosed with HIV. I have a lot to learn. Today is only my second day and already I have my first client, and a slew of beautiful children with whom I practice poor spanish on and use every facial expression in the book. One young child is 4 years old and has restricted body movement and we play ¨hormigas¨, or ants. I make my hand into creeping ants and sneak up on him and he squeals in delight as I make the ants crawl over his belly. It brings my heart joy.

I have felt much peace here, which surpirses me. In some ways I feel that I moved next door, into a world that is different but not so far away from home. I believe that it will be hard to leave this place I am starting to sink into.

To continue, I work at the hospital in the morning and then in the afternoon Rostro de Cristo runs afterschool programs in the area, so I, along with 2 of my roomies, run an educational/ developmental program for youth ages 4 to 18. Some days we have 20 kids, others there can be as many as 75. It is a little crazy, like yesterday when I tried to teach them Simon says and my bad spanish confused everyone because I was giving out wrong commands and then trying to tell kids they had to sit down? I prayed for humility and God has most certainly delivered.

I think more than anything, I feel free here, opened up to the idea of community and family and love in all things, seeing people share and give all that they have has broken pieces inside of me I didn´t know were so rigid and closed. God has been walking with me so clearly, I realize that if I came here for nothing else, it is Oneness with Him.

Thank you for all your prayers, and I will try to update you as often as I can on my adventures.
Your prayers are lovely and so much needed. I have felt them already. Praise the Lord.

xo colie

¨So to live is true wisdom.¨ -Thomas Merton

A New Season

Hello Family and Friends,

This will be our new code of communication for the next year. Yes, I realize it is quite limited and also severly one sided- however with the limited amount of internet access I will be receiving in Duran it makes it nearly impossible for me to communitcate with all of you in the way I desire to. This is not a group e-mail, I will likely not give the walk through of my day, it is a just a space for me to lay out some of my reflections and thoughts about my time in Ecuador. These are not professional, they might not even be understandable, but I appreciate your interest to find out what is happening in my life a world away.

For those of you who would like to know prayer requests (THANK YOU!) I will give you a little list that you can throw up to God whenever you get the chance.

Things I need prayers for:

Trust. All I have walking into this next year is God, and I don’t have any idea what he will ask of me, what my life will be like down there, what is going to happen, etc. Its like signing up for a blank mission; I figure out everything once I am there, in it all. God is definitely teaching me to let control of my life, stripping away the things and people and places that have defined me for so long. I ask that God give me strength to trust in Him, to get out of the boat and walk even if I don’t think I will make it.

Friendships. Everything in my life is flipping around, all my relationships as I know them will not be the same, and simply cannot play the dominant role they have played in my life up until now. I pray that God will restore to me new friends, that I would be open and loving to the people that God brings in my path, and that I would invite them to share with me in the journey. I pray that he protects my friendships in the states, and gives me peace about leaving the people that I cherish for a whole year.

Brokenness. That my heart would be broken over the people of Duran. That my materialistic mindset and ways would be challenged and that I would learn to live with less, embracing simplicity and letting go of all the things God wants to pull out of my hands. I am praying for a new sense of being. That my greedy and selfish being would be destroyed and that God would place a heart for others there.

A spirit of courage. Last time I went to Chile I was eaten with fear the first few months. The language played a huge part of my barrier to other people, but everything was so different that I too became different and very fearful. I pray that God would keep the enemy from our team, keep us out of loneliness, and in a spirit of community to be fully present when we are there.

Community- the people I will be living with will be my family and friends for the next year, pray that we develop deep relationships, enough to sustain us and grow us while we are away from everyone at home. I pray for open communication, that conflict and stresses would be dealt with in a healthy manner. I pray that in our placement sites, the way that we divide the work for the year, each individual's calling will be fulfilled in their assignments.

Personal growth. This is a year that I am giving for the Lord to use me, and I am at a crossroad where I don’t know where to go next or what I will be doing when I return, but I am giving God this time and this space and this context of living in service to work in my heart and work in me. My hope is that God will reveal to me who I am in Christ. If I take nothing else from this experience, I would like to know myself more through the experience of serving our Lord.

Vulnerability- that I would become flesh and bones to the people I am with. That I would not put up walls or a facade and hide, but that I would really expose myself to the hardships of their life and in return expose who I fully am to the people there. That I would learn to develop deeper relationships, even at the cost of humility and pain.

It's long I know. I need a lot of prayers, what can I say.

All my love,
Colie