I have been traveling A LOT recently. It is full-on summer here in Argentina, meaning schools are closed and many business owners are on vacation. It seems that most of the country takes off for a week or two for vacations in January. As I've mentioned previously, all of my housemates are college students, so they are home for vacations. Because I don't want to stay alone in my house, I have been keeping very busy with a visit from my family, a week camping with youth from local churches, and visits with my housemates' families. I've been on the road since the day after Christmas! And while I love to travel, it definitely has its challenges.
My clothes smell funny. They're all pretty clean, but one pair of kind-of-smelly shoes and the whole bag smells weird. My hip still hurts from the week I slept on the ground/concrete floor. There are some friends I haven't seen in a month and I miss my bed. I've experienced plenty of miscommunications and spent more than one night on a bus.
Story time: A couple of weeks before I left Columbus, Dana, Chelsea, and I met an actual band of train jumpers. Like they ride on freight trains and also play in a band together. Dana and I accidentally made eye contact with one of them when we were waiting for Chelsea in the parking lot at Jacob's Porch and he climbed down the side of a building from the deck he was sitting on to talk to us. He asked us about Jacob's Porch and faith in general. Then he sang us a song he wrote about how Jesus was the original traveler. He sang about how no one ever thinks about how sore Jesus' feet were. How he had calluses and dirt on his face.
Now, I'm pretty sure Jesus wasn't the original traveler. People had been traveling for a very long time before Jesus got here. But I think it is important to remember that Jesus WAS a traveler; he knows the struggles of living out of a bag (probably, right? like Jesus had to have had a bag) and the uneasiness of being in a culture different from the one in which he was raised. He knows what it's like to leave everything you've known behind you. He's experienced the awkward conversations where neither person is sure if they have been fully understood by the other. Jesus probably had a sore hip at some point. It's cool to know that God gets it.
I want you to also know that I've had way more beautiful experiences than challenging ones in the last month. I got to show some of the beauty of Argentina to my family. I made new friends, new crafts, and braided hair at camp. I've been able to find time to rest and read books. I've been able to soak up the Argentine sun and accidentally swallow a good amount of Argentine seawater at the beach. I've gotten to spend time with and experience the generous hospitality of my housemates' families. They've been my personal chauffeurs and personal tour guides and I couldn't be more grateful.
I like that God knows about these things too. God struggles with us and God is joyful with us. God knows about sore hips and God knows about good hospitality. So these days I'm pausing to be thankful for movement and for those who are moving alongside of me.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Saturday, January 17, 2015
Once I Saw Mountains Angry
by Stephan Crane
Once I saw Mountains angry,
And ranged in battle-front.
Against them stood a little man;
Ay, he was no bigger than my finger.
I laughed and spoke to one near me,
"Will he prevail?"
"Surely," replied this other;
"His grandfathers beat them many times."
Then did I see much virtue in grandfathers-
At least, for the little man
Who stood against the Mountains.
Sobremesa
Pretend that I posted this a month ago:
Whenever I talk to people here about language differences and words that don't translate well, sobremesa always comes up. We don't have a word for it in english, but it basically is the time spent around the table, talking and eating together.
Today my hogar had an asado, basically an Argentine barbecue, complete with hours of sobremesa. The school year and the actual year are both coming to a close, so many of my housemates will be going to their respective homes all over Argentina this week and will return when classes start again in February.
Alexis, who lives in the apartment above us, was the asador today so he got up and started the fire early this morning. He told me that the lechon we ate today took around 4 hours to cook. Marilina and Karen prepared the lettuce and tomato salad and the potato salad. For dessert, Karen made chocotorta, which is delicious layers of chocolate cookies and dulce de leche. It was very Argentine and very good.
Between bites of well cooked, delicious meat, I looked around the table at my friends laughing and sharing food, and remembered that this is holy. These are the important and beautiful parts of life. Being able to share your thoughts and share your food is something universal, something that happens all over the world, with all kinds of people. Breaking bread is sacred. Oftentimes, it is when we are finally able to recognize the face of Christ in those we meet.
Whenever I talk to people here about language differences and words that don't translate well, sobremesa always comes up. We don't have a word for it in english, but it basically is the time spent around the table, talking and eating together.
Today my hogar had an asado, basically an Argentine barbecue, complete with hours of sobremesa. The school year and the actual year are both coming to a close, so many of my housemates will be going to their respective homes all over Argentina this week and will return when classes start again in February.
Alexis, who lives in the apartment above us, was the asador today so he got up and started the fire early this morning. He told me that the lechon we ate today took around 4 hours to cook. Marilina and Karen prepared the lettuce and tomato salad and the potato salad. For dessert, Karen made chocotorta, which is delicious layers of chocolate cookies and dulce de leche. It was very Argentine and very good.
Between bites of well cooked, delicious meat, I looked around the table at my friends laughing and sharing food, and remembered that this is holy. These are the important and beautiful parts of life. Being able to share your thoughts and share your food is something universal, something that happens all over the world, with all kinds of people. Breaking bread is sacred. Oftentimes, it is when we are finally able to recognize the face of Christ in those we meet.
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| Housemates and friends |
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| Karen making potato salad. |
 |
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| My plate! Pork and salads! |
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| Chocotorta! |
Thoughts On Getting Angry
Pretend that I posted this two months ago:
At our retreat last week, for one of our devotionals, Krystle talked about Mark 4:35-41, when Jesus calms the storm on the sea. He woke up and yelled at the wind and the rain. He didn't tell the disciples to stop being babies. (He did get annoyed that they didn't trust him, but that's different, right?) He got mad at the situation.
How often do we blame people for the way they handle situations? This last week, I had to break up two fights at my nonprofit placement. They were nine and ten year-old boys and no one was really hurt, but I'm not very big and it was just kind of a scary thing to be a part of. In both cases, they were boys that I see almost every day and generally really like. But when they were fighting, I did not like them at all. I was so mad at them. And yeah, we're all responsible for our actions. But it is important that I recognize that these boys see violence in their daily lives as a viable option for settling disputes. A big part of what we do at Compartiendo un sueño is to try to teach them otherwise, but it is part of their reality. So is it really fair for me to put all of the blame on them?
What I should be doing is paying attention to the bigger problems this points to. Domestic violence. Poverty. Broken education systems. I should be getting angry that these things happen. Like Jesus yells at the storm to stop, I should be losing my voice yelling at these big storms in the world. I can't make them stop on my own, my voice isn't as powerful as Jesus's voice, but at least I won't be getting mad at the disciples for waking me up.
At our retreat last week, for one of our devotionals, Krystle talked about Mark 4:35-41, when Jesus calms the storm on the sea. He woke up and yelled at the wind and the rain. He didn't tell the disciples to stop being babies. (He did get annoyed that they didn't trust him, but that's different, right?) He got mad at the situation.
How often do we blame people for the way they handle situations? This last week, I had to break up two fights at my nonprofit placement. They were nine and ten year-old boys and no one was really hurt, but I'm not very big and it was just kind of a scary thing to be a part of. In both cases, they were boys that I see almost every day and generally really like. But when they were fighting, I did not like them at all. I was so mad at them. And yeah, we're all responsible for our actions. But it is important that I recognize that these boys see violence in their daily lives as a viable option for settling disputes. A big part of what we do at Compartiendo un sueño is to try to teach them otherwise, but it is part of their reality. So is it really fair for me to put all of the blame on them?
What I should be doing is paying attention to the bigger problems this points to. Domestic violence. Poverty. Broken education systems. I should be getting angry that these things happen. Like Jesus yells at the storm to stop, I should be losing my voice yelling at these big storms in the world. I can't make them stop on my own, my voice isn't as powerful as Jesus's voice, but at least I won't be getting mad at the disciples for waking me up.
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