Settling In

Hola de Bolivia! After talking the talk, here I am about to walk the walk. It's only day two, but I already feel like I have a lot to say (&I know many people want to be informed on my happenings)- so here goes.

It was a very difficult time saying goodbye to my family. Those who know me, know that I rarely cry... like ever. But I think 20 years of pent up waterworks are finding release. It was frightening to leave everything & almost everyone I know (minus the handful of other SLMs in Bolivia). I'll admit to having felt a slight victory when waiting at my gate in JFK and being able to say "salud" and be thanked when someone sneezed. On the plane ride I had a window seat, but no window (ridiculous, I know!) I was so excited to watch the Atlantic pass beneath me and maybe see Cuba, or the Yucatan Peninsula or the Isthmus of Panama- many geographical regions that I read about in history class come to life. Instead I watched the Great Gatsby (with Toby McGuire and Leonardo DiCaprio.. loved it. Best acting in any film version I've seen), listen to Daft Punk and ask for "arroz con carne" for dinner and "jugo de manaza" and "agua" (another victory for me!).

My plane landed on the Pacific side of Panama (first time to the Pacific), and I met up with my lovely site partner Mariela at the gate for our connecting flight. I felt out of place with so many people speaking different languages. But when I handed the ticket to board, the guy did a double take and in perfectly clear English said I looked like someone he knew and that's why he looked again because he thought, "I didn't know they were traveling." To which I responded, "surprise!"

I sat next to a business man and felt inadequate when trying to fill out my customs papers next to him. Also I must say I had a pang of jealously when his colleague said they were going home October 5th (I was/ am homesick). But I promised to stay in Bolivia, and so I shall.

Customs was actually a lot easier than I thought, just showed my paper and passport, took a picture and went to get my bags. Quick and simple. Got my bags, had a lady took a cursory glance through them and then went outside to meet up with Madre Clara, Antoinette, Natalie and Lanie. It was much windier and chillier than I expected (my mother says the wind is the Holy Spirit coming with us). We loaded the luggage into the back of the pick up and headed north from Santa Cruz to Montero. Being 3:30 in the morning, there wasn't much to see outside so the landscape still remained a mystery.

We were led to a small room by the church that had two beds and a bathroom and were told to rest. Our house was not ready for us yet so the hermanas would let us know the next day around noon. So we slept, in our clothes not wanting to unpack anything yet. I slept on and off because it was strange place and the wind kept me up (creaky windows and the breeze came through cracks in the window frame next to my bed). Sometimes I would look out the window and see cacti, manga trees and coconut trees. I couldn't believe I was here. Around noon, nobody came for us yet. Still in our grungy travelling clothes and not yet showered, Mariela and I made our way to the sisters' dining room in the hopes of finding someone, ANYONE. Luckily Hermana Faustina and Hermana Joaquina were in the kitchen preparing lunch and we were able to introduce ourselves. I said my name was Ruthann, but that's hard to say in Spanish so I'm called Ruth (phonetically- Root). And there is a sister here with the same name! And she's also number 5 our of 6 children! We are twins. I'm told when she's absent, I'll pretend to be her (but I doubt her habit would fit me because she's very tiny).

Lunch consisted of chicken noodle soup, yuca (a starchy root), something that had tomatoes and meat and was spiced very nicely (and rice of course) and a hot drink made from the mangas. We were told to rest some more, but I was restLESS. I wanted to be in my room with wifi to let my family know I was okay because they were probably freaking out from not hearing from me (my text didn't send through over the airport wifi). Some time after 7, Madre Clara finally came to save us from the imprisonment of the our beds in the sacristy. We walked with her in the dark to the principal's office and sat with her. There she began to explain the jobs for us (which Mariela later helped translate to me). We went over to our little house after that and hooked up the wifi (this was some time around 10 already). Finally I could see my texts and call my mom (which cut out a couple times). I was reconnected with the WORLD! But then, while we were in our living room/ kitchen (which I will refer to as the sala), the dogs were released...

We were told that some of them bite and one dog placed himself right outside of our door! They barked and jumped on the windows. We weren't sure how to get to our rooms so Mariela suggested we just sleep in the sala. I kept a look out until the dog was gone and then we ran to our rooms though. I slept well, it was little chilly. More comforting to know that I talked to my family though. I woke up around 8:00 to take my first shower, which was quite chilly (and no mom, I didn't get an electrical shock, no worries). Madre Clara came by because she set up our breakfast in the sala (saltenas and tea). I managed to speak a little while it was just she and I.

I unpacked all my clothes (a strange sign that I'll be here for a while), and set up my room. We took a bigger tour around the whole school in the daylight. There are three dogs past the gate where we stay. They're named, Cody, Paco and Peter (to which I told Madre, "Peter es el nombre de mi hermano tambien!" I haven't spoken much but she laughed when I said that). At lunch, I brought some pictures on the laptop of my family for the sisters to see. They were very curious about who was who and who was younger and if anyone was coming to visit. I said all their names in Spanish (except my parents because I don't know them in Spanish). But I pointed out, Estaban, Justin, Guillermo, Peter (they recognized the name in English), and Maria (mi hermana menor).

After that, Mariela and I sat outside in one the playgrounds and talked. There have been a couple signs that this is right so far. For example being with Sisters of the Sacred Heart and not Salesians (surprise to anyone who didn't know that), I reflected on how my heart feels a little similar. It's like I have a wounded heart from being ripped from my dwelling and right now it is bleeding longing and anxiety. I want it to, and I know it will eventually as it has already begun, to bleed out love and joy for this life here. Even finding my tea residue in the shape of a heart brought a smile to my face.

This evening we went to mass to celebrate the Feast of Mercedes (the patron saint of Montero). The church was located in the plaza so we packed into a taxi to get there. My first taste of Montero outside of the compound! Some things really remind me of home. I grew up in a town on Long Island with a large Latino and Africa-american presence (my family was probably one of two Caucasian families on the block). So in a way, Montero reminds me of some of the stores back there. Little tiendas where things are cheap and everything seems to be covered with a film of dust. The road noise (which I was told it was noisy) is not as bad as I thought. On Long Island I live right by an intersection so it just sounds like that. And then when we were crossing the streets watching out for cars and motos, it was like crossing the streets in New York City. But the church was very large, and kind of open to the air. No walls fully enclosed the space and the floor was still part tile, part packed earth. After mass, we were led in procession through some blocks behind a statue of Mary. There were fireworks and a drum march. I felt like I was just gaping at everything while Mariela and Hermana Sara chit-chatted.

We tried to buy bread afterwards for dinner and then breakfast with Hermana Inez, but the store was all out so we walked back home. They gave us some of their bread and yogurt to take back to our house (we won't eat with them much anymore except for lunch on Thursdays). Also we were told that Lanie, who was supposed to come to Santa Cruz with us tomorrow to get new visas, has gotten sick so we're just going have our letters written by a teacher at the hogar (orphanage) until she gets better and we can go hopefully next week (another adventure outside the compound. No espero!) We will aslo begin our work at the guardaria tomorrow overseeing some computer classes and maybe teaching a little English (still uncertain).

All in all, right now I feel a lot better than when I first came yesterday. Not as many tears any more, just a strong desire to begin so I can get into the flow of things. When the year yawned before me, I just took a breath and said, "okay. Two days are already behind me, that's an accomplishment." Changes are beginning in me. I am feeling more comfortable here and Spanish vocabulary is falling into my thoughts, spoken and written words. Little by little, I think I can hang of this thing. I know I can get the hang of this.

Keep praying for me and all the other Salesian Lay Missioners all over the world. <3

why?

[Prologue: This is the blog for my time as a Salesian Lay Missioner; living in Montero, Bolivia as a teacher at El Centro Sagrado Corazon for about a year 2013- 2014]

"Why?" I expect this is the question most of you would think to ask when hearing about how I plan to spend this next year. Let me preface my answer with a story:

Luke 2:41-52
     "Each year his parents went to Jerusalem for the feast of passover, and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom. After they had completed its days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Thinking that he was in the caravan, they journeyed for a day and looked for him among their relatives and acquaintances, but not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, and all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished, and his mother said to him, "Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety." And he said to them, "Why were you looking for me? Did you not know I must be in my Father's house?" But they did not understand what he said to them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them; his mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and favor before God and man."

In modern terms Jesus says, "Duh. Isn't it obvious that I had to be where God wants me?" I feel likewise about my call to mission: it's where I need to be so why would I be doing anything else right now? Why not?

It's hard to pinpoint exactly how or where my journey here all began. To be honest though, it began long before I was even born. And I realize that may seem lofty, but it's true! God knows His plans for us when we're nothing more than just an idea in His mind: since the beginning of time.

Basically put, I've always felt a strong desire to help the world on a large, global scale. When I entered college, I struggled with what to major in. I remember saying to my oldest brother, "I want a career that helps a lot of people all over the world, but also allows me to live comfortably and I don't how to marry those two ideals together." I see this as an environmental goal and also as a societal goal. I ended up going to a year two college and just graduated last May from the Honors College with my Associates in Liberal Arts.

Backtrack to high school, my youth group was affiliated with the Salesians. Salesians are the Society of St. Francis de Sales, Roman Catholic, founded by Saint John Bosco in Italy dedicated mainly to education and mission work. Don Bosco is know as the "friend of the young and the poor". There is something unique about the Salesian spirit that is hard to define. If I had to though, I'd say the Salesian spirit is welcoming and fun. Faith and fun as one. Through the Salesians I took part in their Gospel Roads program which are week long service retreats. This allowed me to do volunteer work in New Jersey, Washington, D.C., Alabama and New Orleans.

Fast Forward again to the end of my time at college. New Year's and once again I resolve not to make any resolutions because I know that I won't keep them anyway. But while talking to some friends about what comes next, I believe this year could be different. Most were transferring after their two years to continue to a four year school and get a Bachelor's degree. I couldn't confidently say that's what I wanted to do. I still was unsure about what to major in and I can't go on until I have a clearer understanding of where my academic career is taking me. Also if I did go on somewhere else, I was afraid I would be trapped on the American Dream conveyor belt. I'd go to college --> get a degree --> get a job --> get a family --> be stuck. I still had these grandiose plans to travel (but not necessarily to be touristy) and if I kept on that conveyor belt I didn't know when the opportunity to do so would arise. Someone at the diner that evening mentioned the Salesian Lay Missioners (SLMs) and a distant memory stirred. I'd heard the name before but hadn't bothered to look it up much because I was too young.

My interest piqued. I began to research the program again. It made so much sense! I just make the requirements: I have a college degree, I will be the minimum age when I depart (I have to wait until September 19), it fulfills my desire to serve on a large scale, I already love Salesians, there's not much holding me to stay on Long Island. So I applied and here I am; I'm doing it. All signs point to NOW. This is the time to reach out and find my limits (if they even exist): do something that scares me: do something to help others: learn about a new culture and it's beautiful people.