Please forgive this kinda selfish blog entry/wish list. I know there are many people who have been wondering what kinds of things I could use if they sent something. So here is an answer for those of you who read the blog:
Ok, faithful readers, I have a little request for those who might have a good Christian book laying around the house. I´m running low on Christian commentary or devotion-type reading material. Volunteers are really great about swapping books, but this is a subject area that is lacking. So, if there were any of you planning to send me something at some point anyway, know that I would love to get my hands on something thought-provoking related to the big JC. I´m also lacking in the Christian music department, don´t really know what new stuff has been coming out lately. Sweet mixed cd? Maybe I could send you a bracelet or necklace made from one of our local Peruvian hippies.
I also want to know what people are reading right now in terms of Chrisian writers. What have you been reading?
If you don´t have any Christian books and want to send something, you can never go wrong with food, coffee or spices from the U.S. Nuts, chili/soup mixes, beef jerky, seasoned salt.
Terrace Hill--Cuerpo de Paz
Casilla Postal 208
Oficina Serpost S.A.
Chiclayo, Peru
Things are going pretty well with work. School has started back from break today, and I hope to teach a lot of classes the next two weeks to catch up on lost time. We still have the two radio shows in Olmos, but we´re changing the AM station to be an informal show called ¨Cafe con Las Chicas¨ aka ¨Coffee with the Girls¨. Caroline and I won a little bit of grant money to buy books and pay for kids of project Ironman/Ironwoman to go on a trip at the end of the school year if they complete the program. Yay!!!!
Environmental volunteers from Perú 14 are wrapping up their last few months before heading back to the States. I´m going to miss them. Caroline will be sticking around and working in Lima, leading all the environment volunteers. I´m so excited to be going home for Christmas. So plan to be in Lubbock, Texas between December 23rd and January 2nd if possible.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Camps of thought on that Jesus dude.
Happy Peruvian Independence Day to everyone reading from the United States. We had a new president installed yesterday. Lisa, Sarah and I got together to celebrate and watch Ollanta make his first speech in office. We ate some popcorn, some paneton (my favorite fruit cake), coffee and cold beer.
We also have been watching the documentary ¨Jesus Camp¨. It´s been a few years since I´ve seen that film, and I forget how much it reminds me of my evangelical childhood. Keep in mind, that our Southern Baptist church was not that crazy, but they did teach us that we are in a spiritual war with the devil, that there is a darkness in people who aren´t Christians. You´re either saved and going to heaven or you´re headed to hell. Christians better tell everyone they know, even if it makes them uncomfortable. Gays are sick, no make that filthy. People who have abortions are murderers. There is a black and white way to look at sin. God does have a clear political party. There are people who have these answers, who have been sensible and humble enough to pick up their cross and follow in the right path. The rest are lost, empty, and don´t realize what they are missing out on.
I used to think all of those things…because I was taught by adults that I respected. Sometimes they were said outright, and other times they were just known by all the members and suggested more subtly. But I remember my arrogance in having known the way, my pity for the lost. Oh, how I feared for their future beyond the grave. I was so afraid of God, afraid of disappointing God, afraid of disappointing my earthly family of God. Fear. Fear. Fear. And still, with all of those terrible memories, those faulty pieces in my logic, I also remember a deep and moving love for God that is more true and good than anything I´ve ever known. When I was 6, there was a short time when our family didn´t go to church. And I remember lining up chairs in our playhouse to make pews for my little sister, Logi, and preaching from one verse in the book of Matthew. I can still remember that overpowering feeling of love and wisdom that was within me even at that age. The Holy Spirit was real and moved with a force that was from far beyond me.
My past with Christianity and the church have been a mixture of these two kinds of feelings: feelings of shame and judgment, and feelings of liberation, love and truth. One of my favorite professors in college told me there are people who have been damaged by their conservative Christian upbringings and leave their faith behind altogether, and then there are those who stick it out and wrestle with their faith, and come out stronger for it. I really believe that, if we really are changed by the story of Jesus, that we become part of the Church in the biggest sense of the word. With all of its current and historical problems, we are made a part to complete one another. We help one another to think and evaluate what we´re really saying, how we´re really living.
And as important church, the community of Jesus lovers, is, I´m seeing that God has given me this time in Perú to heal from those painful experiences that I hold with the church and see ¨non-Christians¨ differently. I think I´ve been taken away from it for awhile to be brought back with a better understanding of who I am and how I can help. More importantly, I´m learning to be a person after God´s own heart, rather than after the heart of Christians. I care so deeply about the approval of certain people that I consider to be very close to God. And I´m seeing that, even when I feel ok with something in my God time, I still ache for the approval of those people.
And somehow, getting me to Perú and far away from my Christian community is giving me the freedom to figure out what I want my life to look like, what I really believe free of judgment. I can´t say that it´s led to any amazing revelation. I have nothing stunning to share with you all. At the moment, what I understand is pretty basic. That is that I don´t have the answers, and all I want to do is be one after God´s own heart. I want to figure out how feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick, visit the imprisoned. Truth be told, I´m not literally doing any of that, but I think Shane Claiborne was right to say that the point is FINDING A NEED AND FILLING IT. I think it is there that we really find ourselves as part of Christ´s body.
We also have been watching the documentary ¨Jesus Camp¨. It´s been a few years since I´ve seen that film, and I forget how much it reminds me of my evangelical childhood. Keep in mind, that our Southern Baptist church was not that crazy, but they did teach us that we are in a spiritual war with the devil, that there is a darkness in people who aren´t Christians. You´re either saved and going to heaven or you´re headed to hell. Christians better tell everyone they know, even if it makes them uncomfortable. Gays are sick, no make that filthy. People who have abortions are murderers. There is a black and white way to look at sin. God does have a clear political party. There are people who have these answers, who have been sensible and humble enough to pick up their cross and follow in the right path. The rest are lost, empty, and don´t realize what they are missing out on.
I used to think all of those things…because I was taught by adults that I respected. Sometimes they were said outright, and other times they were just known by all the members and suggested more subtly. But I remember my arrogance in having known the way, my pity for the lost. Oh, how I feared for their future beyond the grave. I was so afraid of God, afraid of disappointing God, afraid of disappointing my earthly family of God. Fear. Fear. Fear. And still, with all of those terrible memories, those faulty pieces in my logic, I also remember a deep and moving love for God that is more true and good than anything I´ve ever known. When I was 6, there was a short time when our family didn´t go to church. And I remember lining up chairs in our playhouse to make pews for my little sister, Logi, and preaching from one verse in the book of Matthew. I can still remember that overpowering feeling of love and wisdom that was within me even at that age. The Holy Spirit was real and moved with a force that was from far beyond me.
My past with Christianity and the church have been a mixture of these two kinds of feelings: feelings of shame and judgment, and feelings of liberation, love and truth. One of my favorite professors in college told me there are people who have been damaged by their conservative Christian upbringings and leave their faith behind altogether, and then there are those who stick it out and wrestle with their faith, and come out stronger for it. I really believe that, if we really are changed by the story of Jesus, that we become part of the Church in the biggest sense of the word. With all of its current and historical problems, we are made a part to complete one another. We help one another to think and evaluate what we´re really saying, how we´re really living.
And as important church, the community of Jesus lovers, is, I´m seeing that God has given me this time in Perú to heal from those painful experiences that I hold with the church and see ¨non-Christians¨ differently. I think I´ve been taken away from it for awhile to be brought back with a better understanding of who I am and how I can help. More importantly, I´m learning to be a person after God´s own heart, rather than after the heart of Christians. I care so deeply about the approval of certain people that I consider to be very close to God. And I´m seeing that, even when I feel ok with something in my God time, I still ache for the approval of those people.
And somehow, getting me to Perú and far away from my Christian community is giving me the freedom to figure out what I want my life to look like, what I really believe free of judgment. I can´t say that it´s led to any amazing revelation. I have nothing stunning to share with you all. At the moment, what I understand is pretty basic. That is that I don´t have the answers, and all I want to do is be one after God´s own heart. I want to figure out how feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick, visit the imprisoned. Truth be told, I´m not literally doing any of that, but I think Shane Claiborne was right to say that the point is FINDING A NEED AND FILLING IT. I think it is there that we really find ourselves as part of Christ´s body.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
There´s No Place Like Olmos
I wouldn´t say that I necessarily see Corral de Arena or Olmos as home, but I´ve got a good group of friends and community here. I don´t know that I´ve explained this, but I live in the district of Olmos (approximately 10,000 people), in the town or caserio called Corral de Arena (pop. around 700). There is hardly anything in my town, except for a restaurant that no one really goes to. So Olmos is where I go for pretty much anything we need. For anything more, I have to go to the capital of Lambayeque, which is Chiclayo. We currently have 7 volunteers living in Olmos, 5 girls and 2 guys. All but one of the guys are environment volunteers. So, as you may imagine, the girls have bonded really well, and we end up doing a lot of work together. We´ve got something special in Olmos that is different from most Peace Corps experiences, because we are such a tight cluster. It gives us an opportunity to tackle more than we might have time for alone, and using everyone´s creativity and ideas makes our projects more sucessful. Our big project together is our Environmental radio shows which we are now doing twice a week, once on AM and once on FM. The FM one is more formal, while the AM station gives us a chance to relax and be more conversational. For example, on AM this week, I´m gonna talk about rap and raggeton music.
Let me introduce the Olmos crew. For the boys, we have Speare and John. Speare lives in Olmos. We don´t see him very often, but we like to tease him for working out so much. John lives in Ñuape and is doing good work. John is very outdoorsy, a very knowledgeable bird enthusiast with a quirky list of interest including writing poetry in Spanish about food. There is Carolyn who lives in Sincape. Carolyn is always upbeat, happy, ready to take on new projects. She´s also my go-to girl for having a beer, singing and dancing around. Next we have Sara Lev. in La Estancia which is within an hour´s walk from my site. We´re from the same group and trained together. Sara Lev. is who we called the most beautiful girl in Perú (think sexy librarian). For some reason, there is no one more beautiful than ¨the Sarita¨ to Peruvian men. When she visits our sites, men will ask about her from then on. It´s kinda ridiculous. Sara is the analytical one in the group. On the Chachapoyas trip, she earned the name ¨Ball-buster Sara¨, shortened later to just ¨Busty¨, because she doesn´t take shit and is often the one to speak up and get tough. Sara was the Queen of Recycling yesterday in the parade, sporting a dress made of paper. We also have Miss Lisa, who used to live in my site but is now living and working in Olmos. She´s working with an animal refuge, mostly for animals sold on the black market and also the Pava Aliblanca, a native bird that is close to extinction. Lisa coordinates our radio shows and the funding. She´s gotten me into Glee, which has inspired many a dance/sing party at the house of the Bulla (pronounced Buya).
Ok, so Bulla has to have her own paragraph. A very special person in my life, Bulla got her name when she first entered Peace Corps nearly 2 1/2 years ago. She was in her Spanish class, being very loud as she always is, cackling and having a good time, and another Spanish teacher who could hear her from far away muttered ¨bulla¨ under his breath, which means ¨ruckus¨. Ever since Sarah has been Sarah Bulla. After 2 years living in the Andes mountains of Yauyos, Lima, she was offered the third year position in Olmos to manage 20 schools that are a part of the Environmental Education Network of Olmos, started by another volunteer whose name was also Sara. Bulla´s house in where all the other volunteers go for internet, good food prepared in a nice kitchen, and a break from the stresses of site. Bulla is loud and funny, always dancing around and keeping us laughing. I´m not sure I´ve met anyone so happy. When the rest of us are done for the day, she´ll stop and talk to every Peruvian who tries to get her attention in the street. Bulla is helping me to love the Environment more. I have a love for the Earth in the sense that I want to do work to protect it: environemental education, trash campagns. But Bulla loves hiking, camping, kayaking, bird watching, rolling around in the grass (accidentally with dog poop once or twice). Naturally, she was the Queen of the Environment in the parade yesterday. We rode on a cart covered in palm branches and banana leaves, pulled by a donkey and a lovely old man.
This past week was the Festival del Limón, the Festival of the Lime. Olmos is known for growing those tiny limes you might buy for your ¨cold ber¨. We had two floats in the parade, one for the environment and one for recycling, covered in things made of recycled materials like plastic bottles turned into flowers. The announcer made a mistake in announcing us: ¨and here we have the Queen of the Environment with her gringo...correction, with her gringa¨. A funny way to put it, hope that doesn´t get us into trouble later. I think it was fine. I was supposed to be her chofer, but the donkey was spooked by all the crowds, so I just rode on the float anyway. For the festival, we also did the puppet show with Don Cochinon - a trash-loving, sing-happy character who wants to dirty the whole planet. The kids always love that show, and it carries a good message about not littering and the importance of recycling. During the 2 week festival, we also put on games, kiosks, and an environmental quiz for students to win prizes. We also participated in a Guinness World Record, eating the largest plate of goat ever! Really, it was more like 15,000 plates and 500 goats. Yum yum. The cast of the Peruvian tv show/telenovela ¨Hay Fondo Al Sitio¨ came out and performed a concert, really only Joel sang while the rest danced around. I was so happy for the people, that show is something they own as a country and makes them proud. Seeing them in person was huge. And Nicolas is so much better looking in person. That´s one good looking man.
I´m stoked to be living here with this group of volunteers, sad that Carolyn will be leaving us for sure and hoping we can keep Bulla and Lisa around for one more year. We´ve got something incredible going on here.
Let me introduce the Olmos crew. For the boys, we have Speare and John. Speare lives in Olmos. We don´t see him very often, but we like to tease him for working out so much. John lives in Ñuape and is doing good work. John is very outdoorsy, a very knowledgeable bird enthusiast with a quirky list of interest including writing poetry in Spanish about food. There is Carolyn who lives in Sincape. Carolyn is always upbeat, happy, ready to take on new projects. She´s also my go-to girl for having a beer, singing and dancing around. Next we have Sara Lev. in La Estancia which is within an hour´s walk from my site. We´re from the same group and trained together. Sara Lev. is who we called the most beautiful girl in Perú (think sexy librarian). For some reason, there is no one more beautiful than ¨the Sarita¨ to Peruvian men. When she visits our sites, men will ask about her from then on. It´s kinda ridiculous. Sara is the analytical one in the group. On the Chachapoyas trip, she earned the name ¨Ball-buster Sara¨, shortened later to just ¨Busty¨, because she doesn´t take shit and is often the one to speak up and get tough. Sara was the Queen of Recycling yesterday in the parade, sporting a dress made of paper. We also have Miss Lisa, who used to live in my site but is now living and working in Olmos. She´s working with an animal refuge, mostly for animals sold on the black market and also the Pava Aliblanca, a native bird that is close to extinction. Lisa coordinates our radio shows and the funding. She´s gotten me into Glee, which has inspired many a dance/sing party at the house of the Bulla (pronounced Buya).
Ok, so Bulla has to have her own paragraph. A very special person in my life, Bulla got her name when she first entered Peace Corps nearly 2 1/2 years ago. She was in her Spanish class, being very loud as she always is, cackling and having a good time, and another Spanish teacher who could hear her from far away muttered ¨bulla¨ under his breath, which means ¨ruckus¨. Ever since Sarah has been Sarah Bulla. After 2 years living in the Andes mountains of Yauyos, Lima, she was offered the third year position in Olmos to manage 20 schools that are a part of the Environmental Education Network of Olmos, started by another volunteer whose name was also Sara. Bulla´s house in where all the other volunteers go for internet, good food prepared in a nice kitchen, and a break from the stresses of site. Bulla is loud and funny, always dancing around and keeping us laughing. I´m not sure I´ve met anyone so happy. When the rest of us are done for the day, she´ll stop and talk to every Peruvian who tries to get her attention in the street. Bulla is helping me to love the Environment more. I have a love for the Earth in the sense that I want to do work to protect it: environemental education, trash campagns. But Bulla loves hiking, camping, kayaking, bird watching, rolling around in the grass (accidentally with dog poop once or twice). Naturally, she was the Queen of the Environment in the parade yesterday. We rode on a cart covered in palm branches and banana leaves, pulled by a donkey and a lovely old man.
This past week was the Festival del Limón, the Festival of the Lime. Olmos is known for growing those tiny limes you might buy for your ¨cold ber¨. We had two floats in the parade, one for the environment and one for recycling, covered in things made of recycled materials like plastic bottles turned into flowers. The announcer made a mistake in announcing us: ¨and here we have the Queen of the Environment with her gringo...correction, with her gringa¨. A funny way to put it, hope that doesn´t get us into trouble later. I think it was fine. I was supposed to be her chofer, but the donkey was spooked by all the crowds, so I just rode on the float anyway. For the festival, we also did the puppet show with Don Cochinon - a trash-loving, sing-happy character who wants to dirty the whole planet. The kids always love that show, and it carries a good message about not littering and the importance of recycling. During the 2 week festival, we also put on games, kiosks, and an environmental quiz for students to win prizes. We also participated in a Guinness World Record, eating the largest plate of goat ever! Really, it was more like 15,000 plates and 500 goats. Yum yum. The cast of the Peruvian tv show/telenovela ¨Hay Fondo Al Sitio¨ came out and performed a concert, really only Joel sang while the rest danced around. I was so happy for the people, that show is something they own as a country and makes them proud. Seeing them in person was huge. And Nicolas is so much better looking in person. That´s one good looking man.
I´m stoked to be living here with this group of volunteers, sad that Carolyn will be leaving us for sure and hoping we can keep Bulla and Lisa around for one more year. We´ve got something incredible going on here.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
8:05
When I first got to site, I put an alarm on my watch to go off at 8:05 AM everyday to wake me up. After training, it was really nice to get to sleep in. 8:05 was usually the time when volunteers were beginning to gather at the training center. We'd take turns making coffee for the rest of the volunteers. And slowly a group of us would form a circle and watch it brew. But, when I got to site, I bought a really comfortable mattress and loved to sleep til 7:30 or 8. I put the alarm as a back up to me waking up naturally. To Peruvians, waking up at 8 AM is late. By that time, my host mom has usually swept the cement and dirt patio and kitchen areas. She's cooked breakfast and is on to more chores. I was also struggling with a depression when I first got to site. Life in the campo is difficult, really boring a lonely a lot of the time. So sleeping became a lovely escape in addition to feeling good.
But I felt like I needed a change. I started training for the marathon, and that got me out of bed earlier. It's too hot to run past 8 AM. I'd wake up around 6:30 or 7. The runs became more and more energizing and rewarding. I'd end them dancing, singing, praying. And slowly, life got better and better. I'd wake up earlier, but the alarm would still go off. I began to gauge how my life was going by what I was doing at 8:05, and now it's a thing. It's a way to check on myself. Sure, sometimes I'm sleeping (and that is a wonderful thing), but I'm delighted by the variety of activities taking place at 8:05. Cooking breakfast with a special someone. Singing. Reading. Stretching. Laughing at my little brother Anderson shaking his booty and getting in trouble at breakfast time, that sweet face, that boisterous cackle that makes me want to hold him tight and tell him to never change.
Sunday, Carolyn, Dani and I were 2 hours into our 15 mile run in the Bosque do Pomac (part of the dry forest) when my alarm went off. I was overwhelmed by the beauty, in pain and hoping I'd make it back to the town. We still have 50 minutes to go. Dani had taken us down a shadier route, but it meant running in sand - good training for what Pacasmayo will be like. From about 50 yards in front of me, two white horses, one fully-grown and one foal, came galloping across our running path with their manes were flowing, kicking the sand as they left our sight again. "I'm really living", I thought to myself. And 8:05 often has that effect on me. It's a moment for gratitude. Diarrhea and my weekly sicknesses aside, life is good. I look forward to figuring out ways to make 8:05 even better!
But I felt like I needed a change. I started training for the marathon, and that got me out of bed earlier. It's too hot to run past 8 AM. I'd wake up around 6:30 or 7. The runs became more and more energizing and rewarding. I'd end them dancing, singing, praying. And slowly, life got better and better. I'd wake up earlier, but the alarm would still go off. I began to gauge how my life was going by what I was doing at 8:05, and now it's a thing. It's a way to check on myself. Sure, sometimes I'm sleeping (and that is a wonderful thing), but I'm delighted by the variety of activities taking place at 8:05. Cooking breakfast with a special someone. Singing. Reading. Stretching. Laughing at my little brother Anderson shaking his booty and getting in trouble at breakfast time, that sweet face, that boisterous cackle that makes me want to hold him tight and tell him to never change.
Sunday, Carolyn, Dani and I were 2 hours into our 15 mile run in the Bosque do Pomac (part of the dry forest) when my alarm went off. I was overwhelmed by the beauty, in pain and hoping I'd make it back to the town. We still have 50 minutes to go. Dani had taken us down a shadier route, but it meant running in sand - good training for what Pacasmayo will be like. From about 50 yards in front of me, two white horses, one fully-grown and one foal, came galloping across our running path with their manes were flowing, kicking the sand as they left our sight again. "I'm really living", I thought to myself. And 8:05 often has that effect on me. It's a moment for gratitude. Diarrhea and my weekly sicknesses aside, life is good. I look forward to figuring out ways to make 8:05 even better!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
feet to the pavement
Hope you all take my words with a grain of salt. I'm just some Jesus-loving ragamuffin trying to figure things out, nothing more.
I've been training for the Peace Corps marathon for many weeks at this point. My last run was the 12-miler, a big mark for me. Not only was it the longest run I've ever accomplished, but I did it in Sincape which is hilly when I've been training on flat ground. The view was stunning. I could see the rolling hills in the early morning hours every time I reached a peak. The hills were not as hard to take as I had anticipated. I finished it in 1 hour 25 minutes, a very good time for my abilities. But for the last 5 or so days since that run, I have been limping around in pain, walking like an old person. I should probably be stretching more, running more intensely throughout the week. I could take my speed up a notch or two. Truthfully, if I did all of those things, I probably wouldn't be training in the first place.
I'm a girl that once said, "why run unless someone is chasing you?". It dumbfounds me how I'm even here. The question doesn't just apply to running, but my life. How did this girl from Texas, raised by Lloyd and Gina get here: in Peru, running 'til I'm limping, living with people who are often overlooked and left to themselves, here with a heart for Jesus and deep desires for things that have been said to be far from him. My faith, my walk with Christ, me trying to do what is best and helpful with this life of mine is a lot like training for this marathon. I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing. It sure seems a lot easier to do when I'm just thinking about it. On paper, decisions are easy. I know what is best, where I should go, what I should do. I felt like I had it pretty much figured out. Peace Corps. Possibly get married with grand signals from the heavens to tell me who. Go to seminary in Denver. Move to Guadalajara or some place like it. Start an intentional community. I'm not sure if you all can relate to those kinds of feelings of certainty. It is kind humbling when possibilities get more complicated.
I'm reading "The Last Lecture", a book about a professor who participated in the last lecture series as if he was going to die, but this professor actually was going to die. I found myself thinking the other day about what I would want to have done when I die. I started a prayer to God. "I just hope that I can say I sacrificed enough". Before I could say the word sacrifice, I could feel God interrupt my prayer with a verse from Matthew: "I desire mercy, not sacrifice".
I get so stressed out about every step I take in life, so completely crippled by the fear of screwing up. I almost quit training for the marathon for the same reason. The first week, I had to walk within the first mile. I ended my runs so very angry at myself, beating myself up for not looking like Dani or Carolyn when they ran. (These girls were doing 10 miles before the real schedule even started.) My fat legs rubbed together. I was breathing heavy almost immediately, feeling pain in my side. I felt God asking me over and over again "why are you doing this?" It echoed in my head over and over. "Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this?" When my answer became about improving me for me and not for others, my runs got easier. I let myself walk when I needed to. I cut the runs during the week when necessary and took the long runs easy.
It was when I started to think of my runs in terms of who I am, finding my stride, that I actually could say that I was a twelve mile runner. Running isn't easy. When I do it, it certainly isn't pretty. In fact, I usually start out wobbly and limping. But that Lord is reminding me that it is about doing it. My running and my faith aren't theoretical. They aren't comfortable ideas that I can simply imagine working well it my head. But my feet are on the pavement. I'm doing it. And that is the only way I'm going to be able to do anything.
P.S. This blog is being written in the lovely city of Chachapoyas. So incredibly beautiful. I'm not sure there would have been a better way for God to show us how great we are loved than this earth we've been given and the people we enjoy it with. If you come to Peru, you should definitely check out Chachapoyas, aka the poor man's Machu Picchu.
I've been training for the Peace Corps marathon for many weeks at this point. My last run was the 12-miler, a big mark for me. Not only was it the longest run I've ever accomplished, but I did it in Sincape which is hilly when I've been training on flat ground. The view was stunning. I could see the rolling hills in the early morning hours every time I reached a peak. The hills were not as hard to take as I had anticipated. I finished it in 1 hour 25 minutes, a very good time for my abilities. But for the last 5 or so days since that run, I have been limping around in pain, walking like an old person. I should probably be stretching more, running more intensely throughout the week. I could take my speed up a notch or two. Truthfully, if I did all of those things, I probably wouldn't be training in the first place.
I'm a girl that once said, "why run unless someone is chasing you?". It dumbfounds me how I'm even here. The question doesn't just apply to running, but my life. How did this girl from Texas, raised by Lloyd and Gina get here: in Peru, running 'til I'm limping, living with people who are often overlooked and left to themselves, here with a heart for Jesus and deep desires for things that have been said to be far from him. My faith, my walk with Christ, me trying to do what is best and helpful with this life of mine is a lot like training for this marathon. I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing. It sure seems a lot easier to do when I'm just thinking about it. On paper, decisions are easy. I know what is best, where I should go, what I should do. I felt like I had it pretty much figured out. Peace Corps. Possibly get married with grand signals from the heavens to tell me who. Go to seminary in Denver. Move to Guadalajara or some place like it. Start an intentional community. I'm not sure if you all can relate to those kinds of feelings of certainty. It is kind humbling when possibilities get more complicated.
I'm reading "The Last Lecture", a book about a professor who participated in the last lecture series as if he was going to die, but this professor actually was going to die. I found myself thinking the other day about what I would want to have done when I die. I started a prayer to God. "I just hope that I can say I sacrificed enough". Before I could say the word sacrifice, I could feel God interrupt my prayer with a verse from Matthew: "I desire mercy, not sacrifice".
I get so stressed out about every step I take in life, so completely crippled by the fear of screwing up. I almost quit training for the marathon for the same reason. The first week, I had to walk within the first mile. I ended my runs so very angry at myself, beating myself up for not looking like Dani or Carolyn when they ran. (These girls were doing 10 miles before the real schedule even started.) My fat legs rubbed together. I was breathing heavy almost immediately, feeling pain in my side. I felt God asking me over and over again "why are you doing this?" It echoed in my head over and over. "Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this?" When my answer became about improving me for me and not for others, my runs got easier. I let myself walk when I needed to. I cut the runs during the week when necessary and took the long runs easy.
It was when I started to think of my runs in terms of who I am, finding my stride, that I actually could say that I was a twelve mile runner. Running isn't easy. When I do it, it certainly isn't pretty. In fact, I usually start out wobbly and limping. But that Lord is reminding me that it is about doing it. My running and my faith aren't theoretical. They aren't comfortable ideas that I can simply imagine working well it my head. But my feet are on the pavement. I'm doing it. And that is the only way I'm going to be able to do anything.
P.S. This blog is being written in the lovely city of Chachapoyas. So incredibly beautiful. I'm not sure there would have been a better way for God to show us how great we are loved than this earth we've been given and the people we enjoy it with. If you come to Peru, you should definitely check out Chachapoyas, aka the poor man's Machu Picchu.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Peru 16, how I love thee. Let me count the ways.
Last week was Early In Service Training (Early IST). We spent the week in Tina's sight of Chongoyape and visited the animal reserve Chaparri, home to a Peruvian bear that makes nests in trees. I hadn't seen all of my friends from training since the end of November when we swore-in together. We didn't get to have all 70-something of us together for safety reasons, but all the environment volunteers were together again. I didn't realize how much I missed them until I was en route to meet them. We had such an amazing experience together in training. Let me tell you, environment volunteers know how to have a good time. We spent the better part of the week making jokes and drinking cold beer after a long day of work. Brock had just left, decided to go home and work on the farm. Tina printed a picture of his bearded face and put it on a Barbie doll with a yellow dress. He came with us everywhere, taking photos of Brock eating lunch with us, looking in the mirror, hanging out with the bears.
Eliot decided to quote famous lines of American movies in Spanish. There is that scene in "Anchorman" where Will Ferrel's character is trying to woo Miss Veronica Corningston by working out and he says something like "1001, 1002...oh, I was just doing my arms and back. It's boring, but it's part of my life." And so, all week long, people were walking around quoting it: "Es aburrido, pero es parte de mi vida". It became so popular that people worked it into their diagnostic reports. Each time someone would creatively slip in the phrase, we would crack up, which confused the boss man. After John's presentation, he put a poster up that was making fun of Tina for being old. She's actually only 27 and isn't the oldest person in Peru 16, but has become the brunt of a running joke about her being ancient. The picture included her drinking some Fiber Max, watching Matlock while reading a Reader's Digest featuring Agatha Christy, getting ready for bed at 5:30, thinking about how she wished FDR could run again. Hilarious!
There was a mustache competition among the boy volunteers. Our boss Diego has this mustache that has been a part of him for over 20 years (never shaving it off). In his thick accent, he explains that men should have a mustache because "keeeesing a woman without a mustache is like eating an egg without salt" All the boys of our group showed up with all sorts of funny facial hair, all sorts of mustaches. On the last day, Diego judged the competition. Losers were pounded with water balloons. And then we all joined in on the fun. Everyone got soaked!
For April Fool's Day, we decided to play a prank on Diego. (And he got us back with the water balloon attack.) I suggested that we talk to the local jail in Chongoyape and get them to "arrest" a couple of volunteers and Diego having to come to the rescue. We got the PC doctor, Jorge, and the safety and security guy, Enrique, involved. They kept Diego calm. Our coordinator, Brian, called him and told him that volunteers Boy Alex and Ali were found them drunk in the dark, passed out...naked from the waist down. He asked him to go straight to the jail. Diego was there within 2 minutes! He was furious, and he said it all with just his face. We all came out yelling "April Fool's". It took him a few minutes to realize it was a joke. He thought we were just happy to see him there to rescue our friends. The best part was how into it the police were. They hand-cuffed Ali and brought out guns, loading them and waving them around. That part was kinda scary. But they all were so giggly. I would have to say it was a sucessful application of Goal 2: bringing the U.S. to Peru.
We had a good among of downtime to drink on the roof of our hostel, go to the river, dance in Chiclayo. The last night on the roof Ali and Patrick were beatboxing while Eliot and Hobo Alex took turns free-stylin'. Impressive. Even more incredible was Hobo Alex sharing the slam poetry he writes with us. We were all blown away by the power of his words, the rhythms, his passions expressed so brilliantly. Alex talked about his his travels, his vibrant way of living, the pain of love and a critic of the necessity of diplomas and higher education. He left us speechless. All we could manage to say was thank you. After the week of training, we went to a club in Chiclayo and danced until at least 3 in the morning, some until much later. The club put on an "hora loca" (clowns on stilts) around 2 and dropped confetti on the crowd at 2:45. I hadn't cut loose like that in Peru before in terms of dancing.
So, Peru 16, I love you all. Thank you for a wonderful week. You guys are such an amazing group, and I'm proud to call myself a 16-er.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Sha na na na na na hey hey Lambayeque eh eh
Sooo many things happening all at once. I can't really write about them all. The big thing is that early in-service training starts tomorrow. I have to go home and do laundry and be ready to leave for more than a week (thinking I'll just re-wear some clothes to save on space and time). Who is gonna really care if I smell anyway? I've been frantically finishing my community diagnostic this week. It's a report on my community - what it is like, what needs to be done, what I can possibly do in the next two years. Yeah. Kinda intimidating. Nevertheless, I'm excited to say that I've pretty much finished the report and just need to make some signs for my presentation.
I've got about 10 possible projects in mind. I'm trying to use my creativity and passions to make projects my own. I want to do an "Ama Tu Peru" campaign modeled after "Don't Mess With Texas". The campaign will focus on the various aspects of trash management. I want to coordinate with volunteers to put on events, radio shows, and paint murals to spread the word. Maybe people will think twice about littering or burning their trash. Only time will tell. We did the first part of this campaign in a radio spot (have I mentioned I'm on the radio twice a month as of now?). The Olmos girls have a radio program. A couple weeks ago, I issued a challenged to the Olmos girls to write songs about trash using popular music (i.e. raggaeton and Shakira).
Sara Lev, Sara Bulla and I wrote this song to the tune of "Tu Angelito soy yo" entitled "La Basurita de Yo" (the little trash of mine). The song talked about a guy who was eating an ice cream in the park and then threw the trash on the ground when he was done. I sang that song on the radio and it was tough. The song is at a fast pace, but I think it worked out nicely. People said they could understand us clearly. Then my song gets interrupted with a song sung by Sara Bulla and written by the lovely Sara Lev. We took the Waka Waka song from Shakira and Sara Lev made it about caring for the earth and the different ways you should or shouldn't dispose of trash. The "Waka Waka eh eh" was changed to "Lambayeque eh eh". And "this time for Afrika" was changed to "porque es tu pais" (because this is your country). My favorite line was about how you shouldn't burn trash because it will give you cancer "hey oh". Haha. Hilarious. Not the cancer part. The "hey oh" just cracks me up every time.
And Sara Bulla tore it up on the radio as one would expect. Bulla means louds in Spanish, and she had just the right voice and enthusiasm for the job.
I'm still running. I can call myself a six mile runner, hopefully I'm be close to a 9 mile runner tomorrow. I didn't train very hard this week with all the stress...not to mention we found out no one is in charge of planning the marathon. There isn't a volunteer in Pacasmayo anymore. I am pushing for us to put one on in Olmos. Carolyn and Dani want to do the half marathon in Lima scheduled for May. We shall see. I kinda like the idea of doing a marathon just before my 25th birthday. I ain't old yet. And we could maybe even make it an "envirothon". I just learned of this word today.
I had some great moments in my community this month. It is starting to feel like home and I miss it when I'm gone. I've been traveling a lot this month for anniversary celebrations and visits to the capital to get things done...like try to find out if I have a parasite. Only in Peace Corps could the sentence be uttered "oh, I think I'll go drop of my poop and then catch a movie" without anyone batting an eye.
Keep me in your prayers as I make some important decisions this year. Here is a link to the Waka Waka video. This song just makes my day. Hopefully we can make a music video with our environmental, Peru version.
I've got about 10 possible projects in mind. I'm trying to use my creativity and passions to make projects my own. I want to do an "Ama Tu Peru" campaign modeled after "Don't Mess With Texas". The campaign will focus on the various aspects of trash management. I want to coordinate with volunteers to put on events, radio shows, and paint murals to spread the word. Maybe people will think twice about littering or burning their trash. Only time will tell. We did the first part of this campaign in a radio spot (have I mentioned I'm on the radio twice a month as of now?). The Olmos girls have a radio program. A couple weeks ago, I issued a challenged to the Olmos girls to write songs about trash using popular music (i.e. raggaeton and Shakira).
Sara Lev, Sara Bulla and I wrote this song to the tune of "Tu Angelito soy yo" entitled "La Basurita de Yo" (the little trash of mine). The song talked about a guy who was eating an ice cream in the park and then threw the trash on the ground when he was done. I sang that song on the radio and it was tough. The song is at a fast pace, but I think it worked out nicely. People said they could understand us clearly. Then my song gets interrupted with a song sung by Sara Bulla and written by the lovely Sara Lev. We took the Waka Waka song from Shakira and Sara Lev made it about caring for the earth and the different ways you should or shouldn't dispose of trash. The "Waka Waka eh eh" was changed to "Lambayeque eh eh". And "this time for Afrika" was changed to "porque es tu pais" (because this is your country). My favorite line was about how you shouldn't burn trash because it will give you cancer "hey oh". Haha. Hilarious. Not the cancer part. The "hey oh" just cracks me up every time.
And Sara Bulla tore it up on the radio as one would expect. Bulla means louds in Spanish, and she had just the right voice and enthusiasm for the job.
I'm still running. I can call myself a six mile runner, hopefully I'm be close to a 9 mile runner tomorrow. I didn't train very hard this week with all the stress...not to mention we found out no one is in charge of planning the marathon. There isn't a volunteer in Pacasmayo anymore. I am pushing for us to put one on in Olmos. Carolyn and Dani want to do the half marathon in Lima scheduled for May. We shall see. I kinda like the idea of doing a marathon just before my 25th birthday. I ain't old yet. And we could maybe even make it an "envirothon". I just learned of this word today.
I had some great moments in my community this month. It is starting to feel like home and I miss it when I'm gone. I've been traveling a lot this month for anniversary celebrations and visits to the capital to get things done...like try to find out if I have a parasite. Only in Peace Corps could the sentence be uttered "oh, I think I'll go drop of my poop and then catch a movie" without anyone batting an eye.
Keep me in your prayers as I make some important decisions this year. Here is a link to the Waka Waka video. This song just makes my day. Hopefully we can make a music video with our environmental, Peru version.
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