I'm home!

It's been awhile since I posted. Hopefully while I'm home I'll take some time to post about my brothers visit to Colombia and the last few weeks of the school year at Luz y Vida.

For now, I'm happy to be with my family again, marveling at "normal" things like apple juice and pepper jack cheese in the fridge, and trying to remember not to speak to anyone in Spanish.

I'll be around until January 11, and then I head back to Colombia.

The heart of it all

I've been learning some things this year. Most of all about the importance of the unseen. For several days my students had been leaving out a student who was formerly quite well liked. In devotion one morning, she didn't want to pray, sat there with a sad face, far away from the other students, and barely joined in the singing. When I asked what was wrong, she told me nothing.

I tried to get to the root of the problem and as I asked the other students what was going on, I started to see what was wrong. Apparently her brother had hit 2 other students and then made up a story that other students from the school had come to his house to threaten him and his family. All the students from their neighborhood had divided into 2 groups- us against them. It didn't matter that she hadn't done anything, she was part of his family and therefore an enemy.

I spent the whole devotional time talking about forgiveness and love and made no headway. They were still determined to not forgive her, not include her, and not acknowledge that what they were doing did not please God.

After breakfast I gathered all the 1st and 2nd grade students together. I felt almost hopeless, their hearts seemed so hard. And yet, I couldn't just ignore the problem. It was causing such a spirit of division among all my students and reading seemed so much less important in comparison. So, I started our time together by praying. I invited the Holy Spirit to come and be present in our time, to speak directly to the students' hearts. As we started to talk, I didn't address the problem directly. I just shared about how Jesus suffered and died for us, and as he died asked God to forgive those who were torturing and killing him. Everyone was silent and thoughtful as I spoke, which is unusual for this group of students. At the end, I asked if they thought that God also wanted them to forgive the people who hurt them. They all agreed that he did. Then I asked if they were willing to forgive. That's where I really saw the Spirit of God at work. All of my formally belligerent students said they were willing to forgive. Each one of them looked their classmates in the eyes and if they felt there was something they had to forgive they said to the other student, ''I forgive you''.

Since that day, we've still had problems. They still fight, they still struggle to forgive. But I saw something that gave me the courage to keep going in spite of what sometimes looks like a hopeless situation. God spoke to them. I don't think it was my words that made the difference. I don't think it was me that caused them to listen so intently. I invited the Holy Spirit to speak to their hearts and he did. And He is the one who needs to continue to change them. I might be able to modify their outward actions (although sometimes I even doubt that), but only God can change their hearts. My job is to sow seeds and water them and trust God to bear fruit, even on days when it looks like a losing battle.

And life goes on. . .

Jessica and I were chatting, sitting at Juan Valdez cafe. Suddenly, a hand reached down, grabbed my laptop by the screen, and took off running. My scream of "noooooooooo!" in anger and frustration did nothing to stop him. I took off running after him in my socks, jumping the knee high wall seconds after he did. I was hopeful that I'd catch up to him, or someone coming down the street in the other direction would stop him, but when he jumped on the back of his friend's motorcycle and took off, the anger in my voice as I shouted "no" turned to desperation. I stood there, shaking on the sidewalk in my stocking feet realizing there was absolutely nothing I could do. All the other customers started sharing their version of the events- he was wearing a grey jacket, he had bought a coffee, so he should be on the video camera inside, etc. etc. But, when I asked , "now what should I do?" the girl at the table next to us, looked at me and answered in English, "Nothing. You're in Colombia."

I reported it to the police, but just so I could say I did my part. Now, I'm getting used to borrowing laptops and writing my lesson plans on paper. And mourning the loss of 2 and a half years worth of pictures and work.

I've arrived

I used to not watch movies in Spanish at night. If it was after 10 pm, forget a conversation in Spanish.

On Saturday night at 10:30, I sat down to watch a movie with Doris. It was dubbed in Spanish and there were no subtitle options. After the first few minutes, I forgot to wish for subtitles most of the time.

On Sunday night I was at a church over-night with the youth. At 1 am, I was playing taboo in Spanish, successfully.

I think I can officially say I'm bilingual. :)

(which I've determined is different than completely fluent. Believe me, if you'd understood my attempt at a conversation about clapping on the off beat in Spanish the other day, you would see that I am NOT always fluent. But, I think bilingual is being able to cope successfully in either language. And I can.)

A taste of Colombia

Patacones with tuna salad

This is not an authentic Colombian recipe, but it does incorporate a lot of very traditional Colombian ingredients, and everything in it is readily available in the States. Patacones are popular here (and in a lot of Latin America, though they are known as tostones in Puerto Rico and the Dominican). I got the idea of eating them with tuna when some Venezuelan friends showed up one day when I was making patacones for dinner and they suggested it. Cilantro and lime are 2 very popular seasonings.

Slice a green plantain on the diagonal and fry in oil, turning over once. (Use one plaintain for every 1-2 people) Remove from frying pan when both sides are golden. (A friend told me the trick to this is to cook them over low heat so that the inside starts to get soft too, and it isn't just the edges that touch the pan that turn start to burn)

Place your fried plantains between 2 pieces of plastic. Using a flat oject (a cutting board works well), smash the plantain flat. Stick it back in the frying pan to cook until it is golden brown and crunchy. Set the patacones in a colander or on a papertowel to drain of some of the oil.

In a bowl, mix one can of tuna in water (drained), mayonaise, juice from 1/2 of a lime, cilantro, chopped tomato (I used 3 small tomatoes), canned corn (I used maybe 1/3 of the can), and chopped cucumber (I only used 1/2, but it would have been better with more). Onion would be good to add too, but I'm not a big fan of raw onion, so since I was just cooking for me, I didn't add any.

Top the patacones with the tuna salad. Enjoy!

Sol solecito

sol, solecito, calientame un poquito

por hoy, por mañana, por toda la semana

(the beginning of a popular children's rhyme- sun, sunshine, warm me up a little bit, today, tomorrow and all week long)

Today was sunny! After work I went for a walk. I was pretty sure I had seen a "This is your park- live it!" sign somewhere on the 127, so I went in search of Parque el Country.

It was a delightful surprise in the middle of the city- wide open green space surrounded by hedges that cut out almost all the traffic sounds, a deserted old stable yard, and an amazing blue sky full of backlit clouds.

The day felt like a gift from God. On my walk to take the bus this morning, cutting through a different park, several little birds swooped low, chattering in a birdsong I'd never heard before. I stopped to watch them, delighted, realizing I didn't need to rush quite as much as I was to make it on time. A woman, coming from the opposite direction smiled at me, "they're greeting you", she said. Waiting for the bus, Peter said "if it's sunny like this in the morning, it will stay sunny all day, I promise". I prayed with my students during devotions that it would stay sunny, and then reveled in the sunshine during recess, on my walk to the bank to pay my insurance, and as I walked barefoot through the park, the thick grass squishy beneath my toes. A long anticipated ice cream cone from an ice cream parlor that I've been wanting to try for months ended my afternoon in the sun.

Rain, rain go away. . .

It's raining. Again. Today, hail fell while the kids were inside watching a movie since recess doesn't work out so well in that sort of weather. It was so cold inside, I could see my breath. I've become a master at wearing layers- tank top, long sleeved shirt, cardigan, sweatshirt and a heavier sweatshirt on top. I'm tired of rain.

Rain is so de-motivating. I'm feeling frustrated about a misunderstanding with a friend, and I just want to go outside and walk it off. I'm thinking about maybe making finger paints or no-bake cookies with my kids on Friday, and I could go to the store to pick up the ingredients I need, but I don't feel like it in the rain. I'm housebound and restless with my lessons for tomorrow already set to go. I guess I'll curl up with a good book and pray that one of these afternoons, the sun will be out on my way home and I can stop in the park and enjoy the outdoors again.