home. . .

I've been thinking lately about going home. Home being where my parents live, where I grew up, where I'm going to spend Christmas.

But, I wonder about the whole concept of home and what that means now. Because, of course, part of going back to where you grew up is going "home". But, I live here now. Maybe not permanently, but I have bought shoe polish and floor wax and a triple pack of toothpaste here, not really things you buy if you're somewhere short-term. I have a cell phone with a local number, I have Colombian insurance, when strangers on the street ask me for directions, I can at least point them in the right direction. I teach at a school here.

I say I'm going "home" when I'm out, and then I mean where I live now, but somehow, despite the fact that I live here, it doesn't really feel like home. Maybe due to how impermanent I know it is- it's pretty likely that within the next month I'll be moving again. Maybe due to the fact that home largely has to do with who lives there, and much as I appreciate the people I live with and work with, they still aren't family.

I wonder if Colombia will ever feel like home.

A much better day

Today was much better. No fights, laughter and smiles, a prize won, and my first time teaching the 3rd and 4th grade group. I loved teaching them- we're starting a once a week English class- and they loved playing Bingo with the letters of the alphabet in English.

And, tomorrow is Friday. :)

One of those days

Today was one of those days. It started with a 40 minute walk with a heavy bag of dirt in my backpack. When I walked into my first class of the day and 2 children were hiding behind the door, one had climbed up behind the chalkboard, and another plugged in the piano and started to play, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I managed to get them all back on task, participating, and even having fun. I thought maybe I'd made it safely, when one child exploded because of something another child said. I spent the last 20 minutes of class in the hall, trying to calm that child down and restraining him from going back into class to beat up the kid he was mad at. He finally calmed down enough to follow directions and stayed with another teacher for awhile working until he was able to be in the same classroom as the other student without fighting.

The rest of the day was uneventful, until the last class of the day. It was beautiful and sunny, and we were planting seeds for science class, so I decided to take them outside. Everyone was happy and excited. We went back inside to stick half our plants in the dark and half our plants in the sun for a plant growth experiment, and then I sat them down to read a short book about plants. Two children wouldn't stop insulting each other from across the room while I read. When I spoke to one of them, he agreed to stay in the classroom quietly rather than leave. The other student wouldn't agree to leaving the class or to being quiet in class, so he lost the privilege of taking his plant home with him. He got mad and threw another plant across the room, leaving potting soil streaking the walls and the bulletin board that I just changed yesterday. Another teacher very kindly stayed to supervise as he cleaned the mess he made and I took the other kids to the park for the last 15 minutes of the day until the bus came.

As I walked back home today, I felt so weary and discouraged. The thought of going back tomorrow to work with the same students and quite possibly face the same sort of behavior problems was overwhelming.

And then, I opened my e-mail and saw this

It doesn't matter how bad your day was,

just keep walking with your head up like nothing happened.

Tomorrow's a new day!

And then, talking to a friend, she reminded me that, "you don't have to be ready, just willing and God can use that and prosper that. His grace is enough and he brings new mercies each day!"

Good thing tomorrow is a new day and that God's mercy is new every morning. Hopefully tomorrow will be a different sort of day, but even if it isn't, God will give me the strength I need to get through it, and three months from now, when things are overwhelming and I look back on this day, I'll realize how far I've come, and how far my students have come. Because, the truth is, it's the first time in months that my students have hidden before class, and it used to be an almost daily occurrence. That, despite the fact that I wasn't in the room with my students while I was in the hall working with my angry kiddo , they still did as I asked them too and played a phonics game. That, even when one student's plant was thrown against the wall, he didn't react in anger. That I received apologies today from 3 students whose behavior was not what it should have been. So, even when I'm overwhelmed, I can look and see progress. And I know they will continue to progress.

Well that explains it. . .

I was looking back over some old blog posts. It's encouraging sometimes to do that. I came across this April 2008 post.

Which brings me back to me. I do not see the fruit of the Spirit displayed as fully in my life as it should be. I am not surrendered completely to the will of God. In living my life ruled more by selfishness and fear than by love and obedience, I am losing the greatest gift I ever could gain, apart from my salvation. I am losing the opportunity to see God glorified completely in my life. I am wasting some of the precious moments of life given to me. That’s not what I want. I long to hear the Father say to me, “well done, my good and faithful servant”. So pray for me, as I work to die to self and live for the one who died for me. Pray for the Church, particularly in America, where comfort often speaks louder to Christians than God’s word does. Pray that we would truly obey his commands, no matter what the earthly consequences.

“May the Lamb that was slain receive the reward of His suffering”

And then I found this post from November 2007

My prayer is that Jesus' call to "take up the cross and follow me" will ring louder and clearer than all the Christian self-help books promising "Your Best life Now" and the fulfillment of your desires if you just, pray the prayer of Jabez, or do x, y, z. My prayer is that I will take up my cross daily. That I will die to self. That I will truly follow Jesus call, even if it does mean a life of loneliness and suffering and fruits that aren't seen until I am gone. Will you join me in praying for the Christians of our country? Particularly for young people who are still figuring out what life has in store for them. Pray that they would be captured by Jesus' call and seek to follow Him first rather than making a career their priority. Pray that we- all of us who call ourselves followers of Christ- would be unsatisfied by anything less than fully dying to ourselves and knowing the fulfillment that comes of being Christ's hands and feet and mouth here on earth now.

You know what I realized? Right now, the spiritual and emotional conflict I have going on internally are really the path to these prayers being answered. And that gives me hope. I definitely have not arrived yet at the place of "knowing the fulfillment that comes of being Christ's hands and feet an mouth here on earth now". But, I am learning to take up my cross. I am finding great joy in many things. And, more importantly, it gives me some perspective. Seriously, did I expect that prayer to be answered without some pain? But re-reading this prayer helps me see the Father's hand even plainer in my life right now.

Just a word of warning though, before you pray "That I will truly follow Jesus call, even if it does mean a life of loneliness and suffering and fruits that aren't seen until I am gone," decide if you really mean it, because I'm pretty sure God delights in answering out prayers to follow more closely.

The trouble with vowels

If the language we learned first doesn't discriminate between 2 vowels that exist separately in another language, it can lead to some awkward mispronunciations. The difference between the long e sound and the short i sound is hard for a lot of non-native English speakers. I have more than one latino friend who has told me about their weekend at the bitch. And my proper and well-educated professor from Korea always made me giggle inside each time she told us to take out a shit of paper.

For me, there's very little difference in sound between e and ei in Spanish. So these 2 words, for example, sound almost identical to me: peine=comb pene=penis

The other day, I was reading aloud a story to my first and second graders. In the story, the man brings home a comb to give to his wife as a gift. When I read that, I got some startled looks. "A WHAT?!" asked one little girl. "One of these" I answered, chagrined, pointing to the picture. After that, any time the word comb appeared in the story, I substituted the word brush.

Did I really say what I think I did? Guess what word I'm cutting out of my vocabulary in Spanish.

Today, I'm thankful

I'm thankful for the friends here and around the world who made my birthday a special one.

My birthday cake from my party on Saturday night.

At least no eggs and flour were thrown.

My roommate Doris surprised me with this cake when I got home tonight!

Talking on skype with family and virtually blowing out the candles on "my" birthday cake

Colombia's Bicentennial!

As we got closer to the entrance to Plaza de Simon Bolivar, where the fireworks were supposed to begin in 2 hours, the crowd got thicker and thicker. A line of police blocked the entrance. "Sorry, we're full" they told us, so we headed down a few blocks to the next entrance. The police were turning people away there too. But, a bicentennial celebration only happens once every 200 years, and we weren't the only ones who were hoping there was some way we could make it to the plaza for the fireworks. Cheers kept breaking out, and the crowd would momentarily surge forward, but from our vantage point, we couldn't see what was going on. A loud blast startled us, and everyone moved backwards. People with little kids started to leave the area. We decided to climb a tree to find out what was going on. It looked like people were actually getting into the plaza, and Fabian wanted to give it a try, so we headed back into the thickest part of the crowd, the three of us holding hands so we didn't lose each other.

As we got closer to the entrance, the crowd got thicker and people started to push harder. Several people pushed between Linda and I, despite the fact that we were holding hands. It started to sink in that Fabian didn't just want to check things out, if the police barrier broke, we were going through, like it or not, because the hundreds of people behind me were making any other option impossible. My grip on Linda's hand slipped, and suddenly Linda and Fabian disappeared from view, and I was pushed with the crowd to the barrier.

To my surprise, I realized the police had actually reopened the entrance, it was just narrow enough for one person to go through at a time, and, since instead of a line they had a pushing, shoving mob, it looked awfully close to a riot from a distance. It felt pretty close to one from the center too. People shoved around me, in front of me, but now that I realized it was really open, I was determined to get to my friends on the other side, so I made it through too, surprised by the laughter of the police as they shouted out comments, "come through, keep walking, head down, don't run".

Caught in the river of people who had come through, I looked around for Fabian and Linda, but they were nowhere to be seen. I walked up to the security check point, and hovered outside, sure that they would show up soon. They didn't. I walked back towards the entrance, hoping to spot them looking for me. No such luck.

I was starting to panic. I was an obvious gringa, and obviously lost. But, I knew my friends were inside, so I didn't want to leave, and I didn't want to miss the fireworks. I decided to call Fabian's cell phone and find out where they were. 2 minor complications- I didn't have a cell phone, and I didn't know Fabian's number.

I had written down some other people's numbers and had them with me, so I decided to ask around and see if someone would lend me their cell to make a few calls. First I asked a security guard if there was anyone selling minutes in the plaza (in Colombia, everywhere you go there are people standing on the street with cell phones on chains and you can make a call for about 10 cents a minute). He told me there wasn't anyone. Being shy about talking to strangers, especially if I'm going to ask a favor, I just wandered for a few minutes, looking lost. Of course, I wasn't the only one. Almost everyone seemed to be looking for someone from their group. I finally got up the nerve to ask an old lady who smiled at me, but she didn't have a cell phone. Neither did the next lady I asked, but she helpfully suggested that one of the shops outside security but inside the barrier might sell minutes. I went off to see.

The first store I went into didn't, but the next did. And about 4 people were waiting before me, all with the same question, "where are you!" I called the first person on my list. No answer. Second person. Straight to voicemail. With not many options left, I dialed Bibi. She answered! And she had Fabian's number! Praying that he would answer, especially knowing how loud it was in the crowd, I called Fabian. I was never so relieved to hear a voice on the phone. "We're in front of the statue of Simon Bolivar" he told me, "about 15 feet to the north".

I headed back to the plaza, which was now so crowded I wasn't sure I'd make it to the statue, let alone find them. As I finally found myself facing the statue, I tried to replay exactly what Fabian had said. North, right? I thought I was to the north of the statue, but I figured I should ask. So, I asked another lady who smiled at me. "North? hmmm" her friend chimed in, "yes, north is this way", pointing ahead. "Oh good, then my friends should be around here" I said. When they heard that, everyone in their entire group decided to help me in the search.

Who are you looking for? Two friends, a Colombian guy, and a blonde gringa. When I said I was looking for a Colombian guy, they laughed, because it only described roughly 50% of the people there. So, one of them started shouting out, "Mona buscando Colombiano" (blond girl seeks Colombian guy" Unfortunately, the Colombian guy I was looking for was nowhere to be seen. "What's his name?" someone asked. And then, they all started shouting, "Fabian! Fabian!" No response. "Why don't you call him?" one of them asked, and when I said I didn't have a cell phone, suddenly about 6 cell phones were whipped out. I don't know if all the AV equipment was messing with the cell phone signals, or if Fabian just didn't here his cell ring in the crowd, but he must have had a dozen missed calls by the time he saw his phone later that night. Giving up on the whole idea of calling, one of the girls suggested I sit on one of the guys shoulders. At first it seemed like a crazy idea, but then I realized it would give me a better view, so suddenly, I was sitting on a strangers shoulders, waving an umbrella in the air that someone else handed me, as about 15 people all shouted, "Fabian! Fabian!" (they'd already vetoed shouting for Linda, because linda in Spanish means pretty, so it's a bit odd to be shouting. Especially in conjunction with Fabian.)

But, all that shouting accomplished nothing. Neither Fabian nor Linda were anywhere to be seen. But, the group I was with was friendly and funny, and invited me to stay and watch the show with them. So, seeing as I wasn't real likely to just run into Fabian and Linda in that crowd, and I seemed safe where I was at, I hung out with them.

The show was spectacular. They had live music and dancers and a spectacular digital display that played across the whole front of the congress (I think) building. And a wonderful fireworks display. The very end of the fireworks display, they played "La Tierra" by Juanes, and standing in that crowded plaza, singing along with thousands of Colombians while watching the whole sky light up with fireworks was a great end to the show.

As people headed out and the crowd thinned, I thought maybe there was a chance I could find Fabian and Linda so I didn't have to head back home alone. My new friends helped me look, and even convinced the police to let me onto the platform beneath the statue so I could see better. (When they went over to explain that I was looking for my friends, the one police officer said, "Oh, Fabian?" I guess some people heard us, even if Fabian and Linda didn't) I still couldn't find them, so they offered to walk me to where I catch the bus, and we walked off, arm in arm through the crowds, so no one would get lost again. As we headed down toward Septima, one of the girls came running up- "he got Fabian on the phone!" Apparently, one of the guys had kept trying to reach him, and Fabian had answered and not lost the connection. In a minute they'd figured out a rendevous point, and we headed down to the corner of Septima. Where Fabian and Linda were still nowhere to be seen. "What's he look like?" one of the guys asked me. "Well, he's a little taller than me, but not much. He has dark hair, his skin is pretty dark. . ." The other guy interrupted me. "latino" he said. Yup. Him and 7 million other people in Bogota. "Look for the blond girl" I said, just as Fabian and Linda rounded the corner.

So, safely back with Fabian and Linda, I said good-bye to the group I'd spent the evening with and headed home. And you know what? I think I'm glad I got lost. It was much more of an adventure that way. :)

(This was so much cooler in real life, where you could actually see the whole building this was projected on. But, check out the bit starting at 2:17)