Destroying of the God box

Okay, so I'm actually going to post this post. Haha looking back there are 3 posts I wrote since the start of 2013 that I never posted but I'm hoping I deem this important enough. Here we go...

Coming back to school it was hard to share everything that had happened abroad. So many stories, jokes, heartbreak, laughter, tears, pain, fun, and memories to share. I did my best picking and choosing but never really felt like I shared it all and of course still have not. 

On my arrival back I met with one of my favorite professors who talked to me about being back on the hill-- all of me, body, mind, and spirit. And I think that until the beginning of May, when I spoke at Fellowship of Christian Oles (FCO) here on the hill, my spirit hadn't fully returned. It was through sharing some of the most impactful parts of the trip that I was able to be reminded of my time in Central America and become more whole once again. 

After a brief introduction about CGE, the countries and classes, I began to explain about my time in El Salvador and our reflections at the end of our month there. For my personal reflection I made 3 outlines of El Salvador, using words that described El Salvador in the past, present, and future, each complete with a quote from Monseñor Oscar Romero or Jon Sobrino. Then I drew my heart, outlined with words and people that had affected me during our month in El Salvador. The quote on my heart read, "I have visited. I have seen. I will witness.", it was an adaptation from something a visitor at the UCA had signed in the guestbook. I had recently found this heart in my folder at the end of April and had to pause to think about the idea of witnessing. I think sharing at FCO provided a great opportunity for that.

I shared about my conversations with my Guatemalan Spanish teacher, Teresa, our similar thoughts on life and religion yet her belief in no God. My time with Hector in El Salvador, his dedication to walk with the people of his community. About how he did not talk to them about his beliefs just simply accompanied them as they fought for electricity and now running water. He knew talking about faith would simply bring conflict and he was not there to discuss that but to help them gain basic rights because that was a part of his faith. I shared about the community in Bajo Lempa, their example of Liberation Theology in action and their commitment to serving one another. I talked about Peggy and her love of the Salvadoran people. Her craziness and her class and her dedication to others.

Then I read part of the People's Prayer, a variation on the Lord's Prayer written by Peggy and her friend. I highlighted the following paragraph. ((But please read all of it if you haven't yet. So good.))
-->

"Forgive our giving up, our fixation on being comfortable and powerful

as a nation, a church, a people

from specific privileged social

locations who would like to keep things this way most of the time.

Forgive our inability to see beyond our street and experience,

thereby denying the lives lived by others,

and denying the power and complexity that is you.

Forgive our insistence on locking you in a box,

a wall, a room-

We have trespassed on your fullness,

your design, your sacred spaces. Forgive our self-made

boundaries

that deny who you are..."

Although my reflection of El Salvador centered around this idea of putting God in box, the first part of this paragraph is extremely relevant now, being back in the US and confronting my privilege. But back to the God in a box part, through my experiences abroad I was able to "break that God box" and after speaking with my professor on my return to Olaf, I wrote the following.

-->

""During my time abroad I learned more about what it means to be a loving person and how that means accepting people as they are and owning up to that in everyday life. Not trying to change them and make them believe some set of human created rules about Christianity. God and faith shouldn’t be about trying to make others believe the same thing as you. It shouldn’t be judging others for thinking or acting differently. For me, faith is living a life full of love and service. Not judging others because they don’t believe the same thing as me. Not being silent out of disagreements. Instead being open to others, to love them, to embrace them. While abroad, my “God box” was destroyed. And I am so thankful. It has been so liberating. When I say that my “God box” was destroyed, I mean that other people’s ideas and attempts to define God have been pushed aside. I still value and like to hear about people’s definitions and explanations, and I see that as so important and vital, a constant dialogue. Now I feel more able to own up to my ideas about God. Creator and sculptor of the world. Breathing life into all. In every human. One does not need to “come to Jesus” to experience God. God is experienced in the watching of the rising sun, the warmth of the sun, the beauty of the snowfall, the happiness of a smile, the hug from a friend, the kind words from a stranger. He is present in all, whether they chose to acknowledge it or not. And everyone does that in different ways. What makes those things even more beautiful is when one acknowledges God in them. Glorifying Him for those wonderful blessings. I could go on and on but I won’t right now. But I want to say that although my “God box” was destroyed, now a new, purer idea is being sculpted, not by others, and not by me but by God Himself.""

And now I will leave you all with a quote from the back of the confirmation leaders' tshirts at my church,

“I don’t have all the answers, but I know Who does.”

and shoot, I might not even have any.

Nostalgic

As I sit here on the rainy, cold Hill, cozied up in a corner of the lib, writing my Spanish paper, I can't help and take a break to pause and reflect.

I have been home from study abroad since December 14th, just over 4 months. That's a little more time than I was abroad. What. It seems surreal. It is starting to feel like my time in Central America was merely over in a blink of an eye, a fading memory as I live life here at Olaf. How I wish to rewind back to the end of August and relive my adventures. ((literally brings tears to my eyes)). I'm still wondering what now? I still have to go through 2 more semesters at Olaf and hugely discern what I want to do once I graduate. Uff dah. Can I go back again? Travel anywhere, please?!?
But more so right now I'm feeling majorly nostalgic because of this COLD COLD weather. Yes, sorry this is about the weather. I'm so over it. But not really.
I miss the scorching sun, the constant sweatiness, the never ending heat of Central America. I miss my compañero/as. I miss platanos, frijoles, arroz, tortillas, and pollo. I miss falling asleep at night by the buzz of the fan, exhausted from the heat and use of Spanish. I miss hearing Spanish. I miss my leaders and teachers. I miss my host families. I miss sitting on the roof of the bar in Xela. I miss Xelapan. I miss the constant newness of everyday. I miss doña Connie's helado de coco. I miss playing fútbol in Guate. I miss life without a cellphone and constant internet. I miss climbing mountains, running around the Metro, frolicking on the beach. I miss Mr. Donut. I miss a lot. I miss my conversations with Teresa, my Guate Spanish teacher. I miss traveling on the weekends. I miss public transportation. I miss big busy cities. I miss seeing a family fit on a motorcycle. I miss crazy drivers that make 2 lanes 3. I miss it.
Yet I don't miss the cold of Xela (shoot it's cold here). I don't miss lice.

The other day I found part of my final project from El Salvador. It was a heart outlined with words about El Salvador that have touched my heart. In the middle is the quote "I have visited. I have seen. I will witness." And now I am left wondering how have I witnessed and how will I continue to witness throughout the rest of my life?

So what exactly is a life changing experience?

          So a few posts ago I wrote that my trip was a life changing experience. And then over Christmas break family began to ask, “how was it a life changing experience”?

Well let me begin with a quote from James Burke, “We are what we know and when what we know changes, we change”.

                  Last semester I learned and witnessed things that were previously unknown to me. I heard stories of war, oppression, of struggles and brokenness, but also of love and solidarity --stories that changed me. Granted hearing a story first hand is very different than my second hand retelling but I guess I will venture there now.

            There are two stories I will share now. But there are many others to share that also have a strong sting.            

           

            The first took place in Suchitoto, El Salvador. It was a beautiful morning and we were staying the weekend at our Professor’s Art Center for Peace. A place that harbors the creativity of youth to work towards restoration in an area heavily damaged from the war. That morning we went down to the lake where we hopped on a boat to learn about a community that had endured a massacre during the war. Unfortunately there was too much “lechuga” in the water and we weren’t going to make it in the boat through the “lechuga” to the community so we sped across the water to a field to listen to two people from the community share their testimonies. Honestly, I wasn’t the best listener this day. I was tired after little sleep the night before after a bat decided to fly around our tiny room. It was hot. There was no good place to sit, it seemed that wherever I sat, ants decided to find me. I literally had ants in my pants. Biting ants in my pants. But aside from these distractions the testimonies of these two people still managed to hit hard. 

The man shared about being a little boy at the time when the army came to the community. Men were separated from the women and children. The men disappeared and the women and children were lined up into 4 lines. The first line was brought to the front and within seconds they were slaughtered, like tin cans on a shooting range. Torn up, no longer with life. Then the second line, the third, and finally came time for the fourth. The screams were too much to bear and this young boy was about to become another innocent victim. However during this fourth round he was missed but he too dropped down and played dead. Eventually the soldiers left and he was alive. Now I wish I could tell you this better/more accurately but remember, ants in my pants. The man went on to tell us about the terrifying times of soldiers shooting at them from helicopters, and the helicopters being so close you could see the whites of their eyes. Just as he said this, a helicopter flew over our heads. I’ve never felt such a shiver run through my body. Imagining the terror that the sound of helicopters must make them feel. Sick. Disgusting. Honestly the idea of killing anyone ever is mind boggling to me, regardless of who he or she is and what they’ve done. And then children. Wow. And then you turn and think of children around the world, children in the middle east and the terror they must feel when they hear a US helicopter flying over, not sure if it’s going to kill them or their loved ones. US or whatever country. Doesn’t matter. Regardless it was such a chilling moment. And something no one should ever have to experience. Where is our humanity? What the fuck is wrong with us? Where is our creativity? Really, all we can turn to is guns? bombs, grenades? coool. so creative.

            The second story is from Nicaragua. It's related to this earlier post. After visiting a Free Trade Zone (a zone with foreign factories, almost 100% tax-free & there are lots of incentives for foreign businesses to be there) we visited with a women’s organization. One woman, María, shared a devastating story about when she was working in a Chinese factory. She had just been moved up to a manager position, alongside a Chinese woman. That particular day a pregnant woman working on the floor was starting to have pains. María tried to let her leave but the Chinese manager wouldn’t let the pregnant woman leave. Finally after a while the pregnant woman just left her spot and headed for the door. The Chinese manager blocked the door. In pain the pregnant woman sat on the floor and as soon as she did the manager grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, yelling at her to get back to work. And as she pulled the woman up, she aborted right there on the factory floor. Why? All because the Chinese manager wouldn’t let her go. Why? Probably because she would have lost her job. Why? Because losing an employee in the middle of shift means less production, less production means less profit, less profit means only one beach house for the owner, not two. Sorry that’s a lot of assuming at the end but you get the idea. The hard part is so much of what we buy is produced in free trade zones and it is hard to know what is actually produced in FTZ because companies go in under different names. So what do you do? Buy used. THRIFT SHOPPIN! Or be creative, make yo own shit.

I hope that now some things that you know have changed and maybe just maybe these second hand stories will change you too.

Where's the rewind button?

Everyday since December 8^th I have been asking myself, Did that really just happen? Did I really just study abroad? Is it really over? Does it really have to be over? (At this point I just wanna cry) Can I do it again? Where is the repeat button? Can I rewind and play it over again—don’t need to change a thing (except maybe finding lice earlier) I just want to RECORDARLO para siempre!? I want to remember it forever. Recordar—to experience in the heart again. I want to recordar and I do not want to forget a single second of it. Do I really have to go back to Olaf and experience a semester without my 13 travel companions? Why? Can I please go back?? IT"S FREEZING HERE!
Today the next group of CGE students are starting their journey through Central America. I'm so jealous of them and excited for them. The unforgettable experiences they will have and the amazing stories they will have to share.
Being stationary for more than 2 weeks at a time will be quite the experience for me. Since August I have not been in the same place for more than 2 weeks and even this summer I wasn't in one place for more than 3 weeks. So as I prepare to go back to college in 2 weeks I'm nervous about being stationary, about feeling stuck. I enjoyed the constant movement and newness of everything. The new culture, friends, homes, classes, teachers, places. Now I'm heading back to Olaf, a place I know. But I also know that there will be lots of new experiences for me there. New classes, 2 profs I've never had, new freshman students, different roommates, different dorm, new extended caf hours!, different volunteering location, new boss at work, and more. There will be new topics to discuss, new things going on. It will be okay I must tell myself. I've survived 2 years at Olaf and I can survive 1-1 1/2 more. Granted it's not always as exciting and crazy as studying abroad but I'll work to make it just as great. And the first weekend back 3 people from my trip will be at Olaf with me and the 2 other Oles who studied with us. So excited for this mini reunion.

Who Made Your Shirt?

I share this with much hesitation. It's not a necessarily fun or joyful post. I wrote it after our group visited with women who had worked in a Free Trade Zone in Nicaragua. The day before we met with the Free Trade Zone Commission. They seemed great-- providing jobs to women who would otherwise not be able to support their children, paying fair wages, and ensuring good working conditions. But the following day we visited with various women who had either worked in the FTZ or who counsel women who had worked in the FTZ. Their stories were heart breaking. Low wages, forced overtime with no pay, poor working conditions, high number of rapes, and so many other abuses. As I laid in bed that night after hearing their powerful stories, I thought out this little ditty down below- originally in Spanish but I've modified it into English. 

Like I said, I share this with much hesitation. I think that is in part to after writing this I feel awful going into a store and buying, well, anything. Thinking about what the people who made it had to go through just to make it is heartbreaking. Let’s be real, most of us don’t go into a store and think about how the product got there- all energy, waste, blood, sweat, and tears. I feel a reoccurring theme throughout the trip has been the importance of being conscious of what is happening in the world around us. Consciousness is key. It is key to a more just, loving, and compassionate world.

So with that, here it is.

Who Made Your Shirt?

Look at the tag on your shirt.

Where was it made?

Nicaragua.

Do you know what that woman had to endure to make me this shirt?

She worked over time with no pay.
She left her small children at home. Alone. 

And because she got off of work late, she walked home alone in a dark world full of hate.
A man appeared and drew near. He grabbed her, whispered some words into her ear as she tried to get away. But there was a price she had to pay for making my shirt.

He stole her dignity and the twinkle in her eye. He left her pregnant, feeling stagnant with child, number five.

Back home, tears in her eyes, she a made meager meal of beans and rice for her kids who walk the streets during the day, begging and becoming familiar with the local gangs. 

The little that she makes barely pays for anything besides those beans and that rice-- education, shoes, new clothes, health care- HA. As if. She breaks her back in that maquila just to try to provide. For her baby’s daddys all know how to hide.

But then one day she meets a nice man. He works. He loves her and even her children. But the economy is tough and he becomes rough. Without his job be becomes angry. Alcoholic. Abusive. Machismo is part of the culture and she tolerates it despite the bruises. Inside and out.

He finds a new woman and leaves her relieved, without a doubt.

But now her oldest is dead. The pandillas got into his head.

He lacked direction. education. motivation. Because his momma was in the maquila, working overtime so the capitalist could buy his private islands and Mercedes Benz. And so you and I could walk freely into that multi-million dollar mall and buy this shirt. This shirt I’m wearing to impress you. So when I walked up here to talk, you would listen. You would see me as someone of fashion, of wealth, of education, someone worth listening to. What kind of sick world do we live in?

Look at the tag on your shirt.

Do you know what that woman had to endure to make you that shirt?

LOVE

As most already know, I'm en casa. I arrived in Minnesota safely on Friday and was greeted at the airport by my mom, dad, aunt, and surprised by my friend Becca! Of course, we stopped by Dairy Queen on the way home--Mint Oreo Blizzard! HOLLER! So good. It's been nice being home but I know quite the transition lies ahead but I'm constantly reminded that I'm surrounded by wonderful loving friends and family. :)

I visited Olaf on Saturday/Sunday. It was SO great to see so many friends! But the time flew by and I couldn't see everyone. There was just so much to share and talk about after being gone for 4 months! It was WEIRD being back and felt kinda surreal. Second semester will be quite the adjustment.

When I landed in Texas on Friday I first heard the news of the CT shooting. What a tragic event. And what an understatement that last sentence is. I just came from one of the most dangerous countries in the world, a country that has been devastated with tragedies from the recent civil war to the current gang violence and to come home to such a horrific event is heart breaking. I must be honest, I've been kinda numb towards it. Coming home I'm full of thousands of emotions, and adding more sadness, another unthinkable story to the many I have heard, it's terrible. It reminds me of a story from 1 1/2 years ago when I was in El Salvador for a month. I was with my church and we were visiting schools of the sponsor kids. My pastor was saying how wonderful it was that the kids were able to attend school, unlike their parents that had to fight in the war, and that it was so great that they were able to learn- for school is where they should be. That joyful thought of innocent children going to school, learning and playing with their classmates was quickly interrupted. The Salvadoran pastor began to share that many kids from his community were starting to come to this school because of the gang presence in their old school. But how now at this school many kids were starting to confront the same gang problems and just a few months earlier a couple of kids had been shot outside of school in a taxi by gang members. School should be a safe place where kids can come to learn and grow, play and challenge themselves, regardless of where they are, not a war zone. Granted both of these stories have their differences, they are still both very tragic. I don't really know where I'm going with this but I guess I just wanted to share.

Sending lots of love to you all. Spread it. The world needs a little lovin'!
"Love is all we have, the only way that each can help the other." Euripides

It's a reminder of all the LOVE I experience throughout my time abroad. From my friends at home, my family, my friends on the trip, my leaders, my hospitable host families, and others along the way. So from all of them to you--I'm sending LOVE!

This is Just the Beginning

"Trips do not end when you return home – usually this is the time when, in a sense, they really begin."
- Agnes B. Benedict & Adele Franklin, from "The Happy Home"
This quote is from the post-trip email we received from CGE. I can't believe I've already studied abroad. I'm sad it's over but as it says, my trip is really just beginning. 

Saturday morning at 4:30am, I boarded the CGE microbus for the last time and headed to the airport with five of my compañeros/as. Half of our study abroad group was heading home Saturday while the other half was sticking around Central America for at least a week, if not 2 months. After checking in I easily made it through security and to my gate. A quick 40 minute plane ride later I landed in El Salvador, breezed through customs (no lines!), and picked up my bag.

Saturday and Sunday I spent with Pastor Matias and Pastora Martina, going to some of their communities and then to the pool with their kids and grandkids on Sunday. Monday morning they dropped me off at Casa Concordia to kick it with the fam until Friday morning when I will board another plane and head home.

I can't believe I've already studied abroad. It's something I've been dreaming about since high school and now it's done. It was wonderful. Challenging. Incredible. Life changing (in ways I won't even realize). Fun. A growing experience. Unforgettable. I'm so grateful to have had such a wonderful group to travel and study with and such amazing leaders to guide us along the way. As I get ready to head home I wonder about what stories I'll share. Some are easier to tell like celebrating Purisima on our last night, but others are a lot harder. And it's those hard ones that can really have an effect on people and I hope I have the courage to share them. I know there will be people who they'll only want to hear that "it was a great, life changing experience" and leave it at that. And I know that will annoy me sometimes but I know that I have friends and family that will want to hear and I can't wait to share it all with them.

So here I am, in El Salvador with 43 hours until my flight leaves. It's been real. It's been fun.

Thank you all so much for reading. I'm sure I'll share more and write more about my trip in the next month or so. Lots of love to you all! I hope you Minnesotans are enjoying the beautiful snow! And you Oles (and other people taking finals)- good luck! Now get back to studying!!!