none of it goes to waste

Maybe the discovery happened during the years I spent working at a senior retirement community. Maybe after the many repeated conversations, answers to questions, looks of confusion and frustration...maybe that's when I started to fear forgetting.

Or maybe it's because of Latin America -- a semester there that had such a significant impact on me, so many relationships and stories that I didn't know how to fit into a less-than-fifty-pound suitcase or in a 60 minute coffee date with a friend. I knew I was going to forget some things, and that thought was a little terrifying. I journaled constantly -- and on one occasion when walking home by myself and considering the risk of getting robbed, decided to take my journal out of my purse in case it was stolen. Money seemed frivolous compared to the thoughts and words my journal held.

I came across my Nicaragua journal the other day and remembered something I hoped for -- I don't say prayed for because I don't know if I ever did actual pray for it. I would like to think I did but I hope for a lot of things that I don't bring to God, so I'm not going to give myself the benefit of the doubt on that one. I wrote that I wanted this experience to be a part of who I am.  I didn't want it to make me act in a certain way necessarily, but that it would influence the ways I think, how I relate to people, how I see differences and commonalities in which to connect. I wanted to remember the people and what they taught me, remember their laughter, their straight faces or blank stares. I wanted to remember those conversations.

And three years later...part of the fear is realized: I have forgotten parts of Nicaragua. I don't remember all the names. I don't remember all of the emotions, or the conversations that led to the tears or to the laughter or to the smiles. I don't remember each day's activities like I had wanted to.

But three years later...I think God answered the prayer that Nicaragua would be a part of who I am. Maybe I don't remember every conversation, every song we sang in Spanish, every miscommunication. But it's because of Nicaragua that I spent time last week researching immigration reform, it's because of Nicaragua that I view the nature of immigration and deportation differently. It's because of 10 days there and three months living abroad that I want to speak Spanish and engage with a community that comes from a different culture than my own.

I'm thankful that three years later I know those conversations still matter and they're still informing the way I see the world and how I invest in the things I care about. I wish I could hold onto all of the details, but I'm realizing that's less important than letting the details do the work that they already do: shaping and paving the way ahead.

Latin America is only part of my life experiences (which is not a huge number considering I'm a twenty-something), but I hope and pray for the same result from other experiences in my life: how I grew up, my family, my education in California and Massachusetts, my work now in medical billing, the relationships I'm building here. I hope three years from now I can also reflect on how today's experiences shaped me for the future.

I fear forgetting, obviously. But I'm more committed to giving up that fear and allowing experiences to shape me into the kind of person I want to be. When my faith feels small, I cling to this kind of God: one who works in mysterious ways and is committed to his people and that nothing in his kingdom goes to waste -- even the little details like pick up truck rides on a starry-night and the way laughter came after stumbling through verb conjugations. I believe that none of it goes to waste.

receiving

I've been a part of an exciting conversation about community, church, love, hospitality, giving, and receiving. These conversations have stirred some thoughts that I wanted to explore a little bit more. 

"Our humanity comes to its fullest bloom in giving. We become beautiful people when we give whatever we can give: a smile, a handshake, a kiss, an embrace, a word of love, a present, a part of our life...all of our life" -- Henri J.M. Nouwen "Life of the Beloved"

If I'm tracking with Nouwen, and our humanity comes to its fullest bloom in giving, then we also come to our fullest bloom by receiving this from others. We are a part of others' expression of humanity as we live in relationship and receive the blessing that they are. If we are only givers, then we are not engaging in others' expressing their humanity, who they are created to be.

I think we always want to be the givers -- and this is a very good thing. We are called to give, certainly - to give in ways that we are uniquely capable to do. We have talents and experiences that beckon us to serve and care for others. My point isn't to not give - my point is rather to see that if we believe giving is integral to the framework of our lives, then receiving others' gifts is equally important.

And I'm learning that receiving others' gifts is at times overwhelming and leads me to vulnerable places. Let me explain...

Perhaps the biggest example of receiving is in the arena of hospitality. And what better story to tell then Latin America - where hospitality was extended to me in every way possible. I was given a multitude of gifts, many in the form of food or housing or friendship. At times the accepting of these gifts was tiring and I wanted to lock myself in my room and just be myself reading a book or watching a movie. I was exhausted because this process of receiving was not at all passive, but active: I realized (and realize more now), how important my reception of their (my host families and other friends) gifts was and how it communicated love to them (at least I wanted to communicate love -- I know that was not always the case!). I also realized that receiving these gifts was at times uncomfortable: I ate food that I wasn't too excited about. I slept in the house of a family who had very little money and resources. A man whose country has been severely oppressed by my country washed my hands as part of a communion service in Cuba. These were the times where receiving the gifts felt uncomfortable because I knew I either didn't deserve it (hand washing, housing), or didn't want it (food I wasn't used to).

One of the hardest parts about saying goodbye in Latin America was that I couldn't find a way to give enough back. No amount of "gracias" or "a mi me gusta" was enough for what they gave to me. I received with hands that were not worthy or were uncomfortable. I received with eyes filled with tears because of anxiety and fear, I received with a complete inability to repay in any way close to the love extended to me. All those gifts flooded my heart and I didn't know what to do with it all...and at times now I see those gifts flooding me and I feel the same sort of panic ("what do I give in return?! how do I say thank you? Did I do enough to deserve this?!")

In Latin America, I wasn't a giver primarily, but a receiver. And I can't tell you the thousand lessons I learned (and continue to learn) from that. Yes, I believe that I did give in Latin America and I know my host family loved me and appreciated me and what I gave to their family. But it was so small in comparison to the gifts they gave to me.

I believe we have a false perception of giving and receiving - we see one as dominant and the other as passive, yet I am learning that both are equally important in shaping us and guiding the kind of love we want to express in relationships. I'm learning that receiving the gifts often puts me out of my comfort zone and forces me to recognize that their are parts of myself that are prideful and that I must let go. Receiving forces me to give up organization and control in order to see the beauty of living each day open to the gifts that are waiting. Receiving allows me to see another person expressing his/her humanity in the gifts he or she is uniquely able to give.

I'm learning more about what I have to give, too. The little things like a smile or post-it-note, or maybe speaking Spanish -- all are important gifts that must be given with open hands. These gifts express a part of who I am and I want people to receive them openly too, just as I receive their gifts.

Maybe life is more than just thinking about what our gifts are and how we can use them, but also about how we can be better receivers, and see the beauty in others as they express their gifts.

justice // justicia

Justice is a complex word for me. It feels sacred and seeing it all over Facebook and online news sources these past few days has left me feeling a little bit empty and sad...and I'm still trying to understand why.

I was first rocked by this word in Costa Rica, when I learned that the Spanish translation of righteousness and justice is the same - justicia. While in English we have both "righteousness" and "justice"; in Spanish, there is only "justicia." That was huge for me. I believe righteousness and justice are both holy and important words, but I usually associated righteousness in a more individual sense, and justice was more all-encompassing.

Justice got bigger for me, right then and there, with that big 'ole Spanish/English Bible in the beautiful country of Costa Rica.

And the questions? They got bigger too. What does justice require of me? Who am I in the midst of a very unjust and broken world? How do I perpetuate systems of injustice? How do I participate in the pursuit of justice?

The word justice was imbedded in my Poli Sci major, actually it's probably one of the reasons my mind was drawn to that department as a freshman. I learned that the task of the state, the task of government is to do justice. I had never thought of politics that way before, that government serves a very important purpose in every person's life (the questions and controversies over limited government versus larger government can stay at bay for right now). Like all parts of life, government is a broken institution, but is in the process of being redeemed. My professors taught me to study government with a hopeful mind searching for justice and truth within political systems. Maybe that seems impossible at times, (I certainly went through periods of disillusionment with the idea that political systems could be effective participants in the pursuit of justice) but I still hold to that important truth and don't want to lose sight of it.

My last semester in college I took a class specifically called "Justice." We read excerpts from John Stuart Mill and Karl Marx, John Rawls and Reinhold Niebuhr. We had conversations about justice and the public good, about liberation theology and utilitarianism, about how fairness and equality relate to justice. I loved that class and learned so much in it. I learned that understanding and pursuing justice requires our minds and hearts. It was a class where the experiences I had in Costa Rica came to life through philosophical writings, and where philosophers' work seemed so relevant to the issues of everyday life.

I will spend the rest of my life trying to understand what justice is, and what it means to me and to the communities I am a part of. Justice is complex, it is deep, it requires all of us. This is what I know to be true.

Because this word carries much weight with me, I am saddened by headlines that say: "Justice for Boston!" when a man who killed and injured many innocent people is caught. I certainly believe in fair trials and the judiciary system where evil is destroyed and the good wins.

But justice is so much bigger than this, bigger than what happened when a man was captured in Boston. Justice is shalom -- flourishing. The state is a part of this, communities and churches are a part of this, we are a part of this. If I pray for justice for the city of Boston, I don't want it to look like what I see on the news. I want it to encompass more than capturing one person who committed an evil and horrific act. I want it to encompass healing the broken neighborhoods, feeding the starving communities, giving hope to the hopeless individuals on the T every morning, freeing women caught in sex trafficking, exhibiting mercy to the immigrants who lack legal status and are abused every day in their workplaces.

I want justicia, the word that first shocked me with how big and unfamiliar it was, that transformed the way I thought about Jesus and the gospel, that changed the way I see the world. I want justice for the city of Boston, for my home city of Santa Barbara, for the whole world. And I am so grateful that justice can't be captured in news headlines or Facebook statuses, because it is a thousand times greater than what the media can capture.

¡Ya se te ha declarado lo que es bueno!

Ya se te ha dicho lo que de ti espera el Señor: 

Practicar la justicia, amar la misericordia, y humillarte ante tu Dios

Miqueas 6:8

//

He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? 

To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God

Micah 6:8

The Missing

It usually takes about a week to make it happen. The texts are long, full of options:
What about Saturday, 3pm my time?
Thursday after 7?
I babysit then ... Wednesday??

I think about my schedule...I'll rush home from the gym, help mom with dinner, and get on the computer. No wait, maybe i'll get up early and talk in the AM because it's 9:30 her time and 6:30 my time. that could work, right? Can i get myself out of bed that early?? Probably not. Dang it. AH THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING WHY CAN'T WE HAVE A CONVERSATION WITHOUT A WEEK OF PLANNING?! I think to myself

And when I finally see her face I'm so happy. We talk about jobs and living with our siblings again or finding a new home in a big city. she says things that totally resonate with me and what I'm feeling and makes me laugh because of her unique and witty humor.

But when we hang up I feel a sense of loss. We only had an hour and in that time we didn't get to talk about the time last week when I read a section of a book that made me think of her. We didn't have time to stop by each other's apartments mid-day in our leggings on a friday afternoon, eagerly awaiting the weekend. We didn't have time to vent (usually that would be me) about school and ridiculously long essays to write and obnoxious people in the library flirting while I'm trying to study.

When I call a different country, Costa Rica, I usually pause for a minute "Should I do it? How bad is my Spanish today?" I open up my journal from abroad and find the number that I wrote on the front page: 506.
The international area code is 506. I press dial. And wait.

It rings and I get so nervous. There's an answer on the other line and I say "Hola, es Alisa" and then the conversation comes. They say my name like they always did, I talk with Papi about food and making coffee and they ask for me to come back.

We remember you, Alisa, he says. And a piece inside of me starts to ache.

And then I miss. And I remember. And I smile. And I feel sad and happy all at once.

I smile because it was good -- our time together. I smile because we can still be together across many thousands of miles. I smile because my Tica family says my name differently and it makes me feel like I'm there with them.

And I feel sad because I want to be drinking coffee with them in Costa Rica. I want to be laughing at Papi's jokes again and making silly Spanish mistakes. I want to be in Maryland or Massachusetts or wherever you are.... drinking wine on the floor of one of my best friend's bed room, talking about life and transitions and all these unknowns. I want to be laughing with them as we reminisce about freshman year 8am philosophy where we wrote notes to each other to stay awake and cursed over 8 page essays about "epistomology." I want to be sitting on the couch on the second floor of Tavilla again laughing so hard at that story you told me about when you were in Africa. I want to watch my papi's face when he laughs, I want to eat gallo pinto again.

I miss.

We miss because we love, right? We miss because we were loved by people and places -- and when we leave them, it hurts a little (and sometimes it hurts a lot). We miss, too, because we got to love them back. We were given the opportunity to love the people and places in front of us...the car rides to school when the sunlight perfectly hit the hills of Costa Rica, the runs through the woods on a snowy afternoon in Wenham, the conversations over lattes at Atomic Cafe, the laughter on a long walk home from Spanish class. And we continue to love...just this time from a greater distance.

So, right now, I'll miss and remember. And I'll be thankful for those gifts.

learning to laugh

yesterday i found myself letter writing. i took a stolen copy of the wall street journal (well, not exactly stolen - perfectly placed in the mailroom for someone like me to pick up!) and some markers and pens i had in my desk drawer and sat on a patio chair overlooking coy pond. i wanted to catch up to speed on all the political hype about health care, but instead began coloring and writing about my week to friends i miss (don't worry, i read it the next day :)) my college campus is beautiful every season, and i'm grateful to be soaking in its beauty this season ...with warm summer nights and green trees and thunderstorms that come and go within seconds.

in lisa's letter i said "i miss costa rica and speaking spanish. when i was there i laughed all the time because i never understood what was going on. maybe i should approach this season of life with laughter because right now i don't know what's going on; don't know what my next move is; don't know where i'm going. and maybe i should get me some rice, beans, and plátanos to go with the laughter"

one evening in costa rica my family and i went to my sister's soccer game. we took two cars down to the game (only 1 mile or so away) and when we got there, mami's car stopped working. in latin american culture, you don't worry about those kinds of things - you just sit awhile, then liesurely call someone to help you and know that they might get there in 10 minutes ...or maybe 2 hours. and if it's two hours, that's perfectly fine and you'll be happy to wait.

this time around the tow truck came fairly quickly and we were off within an hour or so (not bad!) ... i drove in the other car with my sisters and about 3 blocs from our house, our car popped a tire. it was one of those moments where i wanted to say "are you serious?!?" one car towed. one car with a flat tire. terrific.

again, no panic.

i tried not to laugh because i wanted to be respectful, but the situation was pretty funny: we were SO close to home and had JUST had a tow truck deliver the last car to our house. just our luck.

but mami and my sister just sat themselves down on the curb. mami looked up at the stars. i said something along the lines of "we're not lucky tonight" but she thought differently about it -- she thought that God was protecting us because it happened so close to the house and everyone was fine.

so we waited along the side of the road for awhile. one family member tried to use another tire. papi drove down later (too late) with his box of tools and somehow we (not me) switched a tire on the side of the road, at 9pm, in a suburb of san jose, costa rica.

the night was not my style. that's not how i work. i like high-efficiency: everyone call who you know, get them here as fast as you can because we need to get home NOW. there's no waiting, there's no relaxed pace: let's MOVE people.

but mami was different. she just sat there peacefully and looked up at the stars and knew she was safe and nothing else mattered. and while i was frustrated and wanted to be home, i decided to laugh and think it funny ...because i was in latin america and things like this happen all the time and reactions are so different than what i'm used to.

so, now. maybe laughing in the midst of uncertainty and frustration is the best medicine. maybe laughing and smiling and choosing to sit on the side of the road and looking at the stars and the beautiful person next to you -- maybe that's what i'm supposed to do. maybe i'll look for humor in the foggy future, the unexpected surprises, the frustrating turns we take that lead us to popped tires and tow truck journeys. maybe i'll look to the person on my right and my left and we can laugh with our iced coffees and bounce our confusions off of one another.

maybe, just for now, i'll let the uncertainty and confusion be a source of laughter and adventure -- and let the questions not cause panic, but rather an ability to take things slow, with grace, and with a laugh.

yay for skype

S-K-Y-P-E

skype. there's nothing like it. 

nothing like awkward pauses while you wait for the person to hear what you said 5 seconds ago. nothing like blurry faces and interrupted connections. nothing like talking over each other and then asking them to say it again. nothing like getting your face frozen in an awkward position.

skype has its own quirks, but overall i would say it's one of the best modern technological developments. and i am very grateful to have it especially since i miss these people a heck of a lot. 

i got to have the best skype date with three of them on friday and it was simply the best. 

distance sucks, but modern technology makes it better :)

i'm in the costa rica nostalgia phase (and in many ways, i hope i always will be). i find myself sad and happy and confused and grateful and overwhelmed and frustrated all at the same time because a year ago i was with these friends, living with a host family, talking to the man at the cigar shop in cuba, riding the bus, wearing $2 sunglasses in nicaragua, processing the things i didn't get, and laughing and crying at random times throughout those four months. a year ago i never knew what time it was and i learned not to care. a year ago i ate every single thing on my plate and my friends were convinced that i should become president despite getting food all over my face after every meal. 

so sometimes skype is the thing that makes you feel better. skype is the way i talk to my host family and my friends. skype is the way you see someone's face no matter how many miles apart you are. 

all photo creds go to the amazing, wonderful, beautiful, fabulous photographer allison jean. check out her amazing photography here!! 

snippets of thanks

just a few of the many things i am thankful for...

sisters

family 

new friends -- and twitter (@allisonharp to @lyssaclaires - that's how we do it), facebook, ramling/ranting emails, long phone conversations/skype dates, sharing recipes, and snail mail to keep in touch with each other

emails from papi

things like granola that bridge your first day with your host family -- and you make it the last day you're with them.

for this special place

 for the opportunity to visit new countries that i continue to think about [cuba, nicaragua, costa rica]

family reunions

random moments like these

i am richly blessed.

"re-envisioning home"

The Global Education Office at Gordon is having a photo contest for returning study abroad students. Students were invited to submit a picture and write a brief explanation of how the photo fits with the theme "re-envisioning home." All the photos and writing are on display in the library for the next month or so. This is what I submitted...it's nothing I haven't written about before but I wanted to share it anyway :)

I lived in three different “homes” while I was in Latin America: three different houses I walked to after taking the bus home from Spanish class or after working at the local elementary school cutting plátanos for lunch,  or after a day at the little Nicaraguan church down the road. I entered my home each day with new thoughts, observations, and questions swirling in my mind. One of the greatest joys of being at home in Latin America was sharing a home with Latin Americans who loved and cared for me despite the many boundaries of culture, language, and personality. This picture shows some of my dear friends and playmates whom I lived with in San José de la Montaña, a beautiful town in the mountains. We were neighbors and we shared a home together. But more than that, we shared life together, whether that was playing soccer in the afternoons, picking wildberries on our walk home from school, or enjoying mid-afternoon coffee breaks, cafecito. Yes, they opened their homes to me, but more than that, they opened their hearts as well.

missing

i like how in spanish if you are missing something you can say "me hace falta." i think it expresses "missing" something or someone in a deeper way. it is like saying someone or something is missing from you - there is an absence that they leave because your time was special with them.

me hacen mucha falta mis padres de costa rica. i miss my costa rican parents. i miss our breakfasts together, i miss talking to papi about fruit, hearing him say my name "¡¡Alísa!!" with such joy, i miss cooking with them and talking in the car as we drove to another new place in costa rica.

i just got off the phone talking with them (by skype :)) and it gave me such joy to hear their voices. they sounded the same and i asked the same questions i asked while i was living in their house. what a blessing it was and continues to be that i was able to live with them while i was in costa rica.

my semester there was hard. i think that is the word i use most often when i talk about my experience in latin america. yet after i say "hard" i talk about the people whom i met there who made such an impact on my life. they showed me love and joy as i struggled with loneliness and fear and that is why me hacen falta.

ba-na-na-naaaaa

I have a banana addiction. I used to have a banana a day and I will put a banana in every meal: breakfast (with cereal/oatmeal), lunch (peanut-butter, banana, honey sandwiches are my favorite), dinner (plátanos, anyone?), and dessert (perfect addition to vanilla pudding!)

During our “Faith & Practice” Seminar at LASP, we were divided into groups of 7 or 8 and were asked to come together to discuss how we as Americans should engage with Latin America. Many of the groups, including my own, focused on consumerism since we consume many products from Latin America…and what better topic to pick for me than bananas, a fruit I (obviously) love!

This blog post isn’t meant for me to coerce you into following my new convictions about banana consumption, but rather a way for me to tell you a little bit about what I learned about bananas while I was in Latin America…and why those lessons have challenged me to think differently about my banana consumption and purchases.

[fun fact: bananas do not grow on trees! instead we call them a plant and they grow in group of three. as you can see above, there are three generations for this banana plant - L to R: grandchild, child, and grandparent :)]

Some fast facts from the USDA Economic Research Service

**in 2007, the united states imported 7.908 billion pounds of bananas

**Bananas claim over 50% of the volume of fresh fruit imports

-Bananas rank no. 1 in US per capita fresh fruit consumption (followed by apples & oranges)

-Bananas are imported primarily from Guatemala, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Colombia, and Honduras

Unfortunately, banana production and trade has not always been carried out in an ethical and just manner. While I was at my internship, I read two books on Latin American History/Politics, recommended by one of my professors.

Here is an excerpt that draws attention to some of the harmful affects of the banana industry in the early twentieth century:

"In 1899, [the Boston Fruit Company and Tropical Trading & Transport Company] merged to form a singular enterprise: UFCO (United Fruit Company). Here began a remarkable chapter in the history of U.S. investment, penetration, and control in Central America. UFCO established a virtual monopoly on the production and distribution of bananas"

--Modern Latin America 6 ed. (Skidmore & Smith)

I saw injustice within the banana industry first hand when our group traveled to visit a protest site of former banana workers and they told us their story. At this site, men, women, and their families (approximately 500 of the 7,000 affected by the chemical during a period of time) live under tarps to protest against the banana companies which used pesticides resulting in sickness for many workers. These workers have different forms of cancer and other ailments such as blindness because of the pesticides used on the bananas. Unfortunately, the multi-national corporations involved have yet to pay for the damages they caused and the former workers continue to live at this site outside of the government offices in Managua (the capital city of Nicaragua). The consequences of these pesticides had an enormously detrimental affect on many workers and I do not believe that this story is the only one among other Latin American countries who are involved in the banana industry.

[banana plantation in limón, costa rica moving bananas from the land to be prepared for export. notice the blue bags that are covering them]

Besides workers abuses, many banana plantations are not environmentally friendly because of the bags they use to cover the bananas as they are growing. We visited a few banana plantations in Costa Rica, and you will see blue bags covering many of the growing banana bunches and the amount of these disposed for this huge industry is not good for a planet in need of lowering waste! Now many banana plantations are using recyclable or eco-friendly bags, but in the past this hasn’t been the case.

So…what do we do? There are some awesome fair-exchange/fair-trade banana companies such as equal exchange (www.beyondthepeel.com) and EARTH Bananas, a banana plantation in Costa Rica which sells their bananas in Whole Foods! Even if you don't shop at Whole Foods, you should check them out because it's a really cool business that they are operating. I wish there were fair trade/equal exchange bananas in all grocery stores, but this has yet to happen.

[bananas are rinsed and sorted and then put in boxes, then shipped to us!]

Eating locally has become a bigger theme for our consumption of foods. Eating locally is good for a number of reasons (you should definitely watch Food Inc. to learn more about them!!), but one of them is the lessened environmental impact because of the oil and other resources used to get products across the oceans and continents. Since most of the US’s terrain isn’t very good for growing bananas, it is hard to “buy locally,” so I think the second best option is to buy less.

My local grocery store doesn't sell fair exchange or EARTH bananas so I am trying to only buy organic bananas and eat less of them in general (my next step should be talking to my grocery store about getting equal exchange bananas but i haven't gotten up the courage to do that yet!). Unfortunately organic does not mean "just & ethical", but at least it is better for the environment and not using pesticides is also eliminating the possibility of workers becoming sick from pesticide use. I wish there was a simple answer to eating and buying ethically produced products or that there was one website that would sum it all up and tell me where to shop and where not to shop. But I believe that the exercise of trying to be informed and make good consumer choices is a good practice and something that needs to become a bigger part of my life.

Let me know if you have any thoughts on bananas – I would love to hear them! So far it has been a little difficult eating less of one of my favorite fruits, but thankfully there are many other yummy fruits to compensate :)

parents

i learned so much from my parents while i was in latin america. i saw hospitality, generosity, patience, and love flow from their hearts in the ways they interacted with me. they were servants in the ways they fed me, provided shelter for me, and also provided conversation and comfort as i lived miles away from the comforts of my own "home". the majority of my time abroad was spent with my san jose family, but i also got to live with two other families, in nicaragua and at my internship. i believe that these people are gutsy -- i mean, really, opening their heart & home to an exchange student you've never met nor seen before? i wish i could say i would jump at the opportunity, but i think it would take a little more encouragement than that. it was a privilege to live with them throughout the semester and i treasure my conversations and experiences with them.

[san jose]

[nicaragua]

[internship]

[santa barbara parents, or as i like to call them: the 'rents]

i was so blessed by the parents i had while i was in latin america for four months, but that blessing pales in comparison to the blessing of my birth parents -- whose hospitality, love, generosity, patience, and faithfulness have continued for 21 years (and counting :)). they were a rock during my semester and i don't think i could have made it through the ups and downs of living in a foreign country without them.

i'm thankful for the blessing of parents: of their wisdom, the ways i observe how they live in love, how they press on through the challenges of life, and how they open their arms to you just the way you are.

back in the US of A [warning: this is a long post]

[visiting cuba is not complete without a stop at the cigar shop!]

[Más unidos y combativos: defendiendo el socialismo]

[a view]

[allison, rach, and i on the beach]

[streets of cuba]

[esta es la revolución socialista: de los humildes, para los humildes, y por los humildes]

[allison, rachel, annie, and i enjoying [virgin of course] piña coladas at varadero beach, finishing up our time in cuba]

I am back in the United States of America – honestly hard to believe. I had a really great trip to Cuba and would love to talk to you about it and share pictures and stories - it was such a unique experience. I learned a lot about the socialist government structure, the attitude of solidarity that I have never seen nor experienced before, and heard about Cuba from a perspective so different from what I have heard as a US citizen. We went to different “charlas” as we call them, or lectures/speakers, who ranged from economists, educators, medical professionals, pastors, etc. This was the first year that LASP was able to take all 37 students to Cuba because of some of the changes that President Obama has made with Cuba policy. Usually LASP is able to take a group of students (since it falls under both an educational and religious trip), but not all students together and it takes a LOT of phone calls. This year the process was much smoother and I am eager to stay updated on the changes taking place in Cuba with their new congress, as well as changes between US-Cuba policies. There is so much I could write about Cuba, but I think I’ll just talk about one thing: solidarity. Solidarity, in my own definition, is sacrificing your own personal desires and successes for the good of others or your society. I have never seen this kind of solidarity lived out except in the case of Cuba – especially within the health system I was amazed by the sacrifice of many Cuban doctors for both people within their country as well as those in lesser-developed countries. We met with a doctor who receives a very low wage (actually lower than a taxi driver might make because of the dual monetary system which allows people in tourism to possibly make more money because tourists pay for services in a different currency), but he told us that he wouldn’t change his career because he believes in serving the Cuban people. Wow. I was also really blown away by the hospitality we received by a group of senior citizens at their exercise class: we sat in chairs and on the floor with a group of at least 40 senior citizens who were doing some breathing/stretching exercises and we got to join in! A few people introduced themselves and one of them was around 90 years old and told us how he was so happy that we were here and that he wants us to come home to the United States with warm greetings from Cuba. This also blew me away – my country and Cuba have been enemies for years and yet this man put this aside and welcomed our group with so much love and smiles that I had misty eyes when he shuffled his feet back across the linoleum floor to his seat.

We finished our trip at a popular Cuban tourist spot called Varadero Beach and then headed back to Costa Rica for less than 24 hours before heading on a plane to Miami! Our group spent just a little over a day in Miami doing “re-entry” and then said our goodbyes. Saying goodbyes was really sad: while I hope to see my close LASP friends again soon, I will never be with the same group of 37 students ever again. Even though it has only been 4 months, we have shared a lot together and have been shaped and challenged by this unique experience. We’ve shared so many awkward, funny, embarrassing situations, as well as countless conversations – some funny about our American culture, but many more about the things we are learning and struggling to understand. They have come to know some of the things that make me “me”, like getting food all over my face when I eat (it is a curse that will follow me wherever I go), and I have adapted some of their expressions and accents. I will really miss this community, especially as I continue to process this experience and try to apply what I have learned to my life at home.

Authentic and unique are the words I want to use to describe my semester in Latin America. I think it has probably been the most challenging, but in many ways, the most rewarding semester I have had as a college student. What is exciting is that I feel like I am starting to sense the ways that this semester has influenced me – in terms of reflection, thinking about what I have learned, the conversations I have had, etc. It is impossible to process all you have learned right after it happens and I think the real processing is starting now and will continue for the rest of my life!

LASP has given me a real Latin American experience: I have lived with three different host families. I have eaten, slept, gone to church, Bible study, mass, washed laundry, helped cook, clean, enjoy family activities like soccer games and Tupperware parties, gone on family weekend trips, shared pepto bismol, celebrated birthdays and new babies, gone on walks to thepulpería, and tried and failed at dancing (my hips do not move like they are supposed to). I listened to my family laugh and cry – and they’ve seen me laugh and cry too. I have heard from political officials, spoken with Latin Americans in different regions, enjoyed beautiful beaches, mountains, and cities, and also seen a lot of problems and global issues that have overwhelmed me. I have learned Spanish, and realized that being a language learner is humbling. I have seen many cultural differences and similarities, tried new foods that I either loved or struggled to swallow. I have struggled in Latin America. I have been embarrassed and confused, felt sad, discouraged, misunderstood, homesick, and lonely. Yet I have also felt loved, cared for, excited, joyful, and blessed. How does that all fit together? I have no idea…

This semester has been a huge blessing to me, and I am so thankful for YOU – my family, friends, and loved ones who have prayed for me, sent me emails and Facebook messages, and encouraged me along the way. I am completely overwhelmed with gratitude and can’t thank you enough for your support and love across the miles – it has made a huge difference to my experience here. I hope to share recipes and stories with you (maybe we can have a cup of coffee & que que seco in the mid-afternoon like a Costa Rican cafecito?) and to hear your stories and adventures over the past four months. Just as I have learned so much through conversation and living life with Latin American families these past four months, I am looking forward to a continuation of this in the USA with family and friends who have loved and cared for me all of my life.

My name has been “Alisa” for the past 4 months (and sometimes “Alice” and I just don’t try hard enough to correct it) and I think part of me will miss this. I’ll also miss speaking a lot of Spanish and waking up to cows mooing and the frying pan frying something delicious with lots of oil. I’ll miss rice at least two times a day and cheap mangos and yucca. I’ll miss the bus rides and talking to my host sisters and parents. I’ll miss the hug & kiss greetings and hearing “Dios bendiga y acompaña” when I leave. I’ll miss all of the dogs in the neighborhoods, the panaderias and the endless bread that I always eat. The list is long of the special things I will miss from Latin America and the people who loved and cared for me there.

But I’m also looking forward to home: to watching Libby in her play, to dance parties with Kels, to having long chats with my dad over the newspaper, and to coffee mornings with my mom in our pajamas. I am incredibly excited to see my across-the-world cousins in June whom I haven’t seen for almost 2 years and to work with some of my favorite senior citizens at the retirement center for the summer. And I’m looking forward to reuniting with dear friends in the summer and in August when I get back to Gordon (please do NOT talk to me about the fact that I am a senior now - it is truly freaking me out!!).

Psalm 98:1 “Sing to the Lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things…”

understanding [or a lack thereof]

When I decided to study abroad, understanding was something that I wanted. I wanted a greater understanding of the world, God, faith, people, culture. Yet as I study here in Latin America, I think I approach confusion more than understanding, doubt more than certainty.

I am a person who usually works pretty hard to grasp a concept – particularly in school. I am usually not afraid or embarrassed to talk to my teachers or professors if I am confused or unclear on a particular topic and I love the feeling of saying, “I GOT it!” after finishing a math problem or memorizing a theory for a test.

I don’t get it about 99.9% of the time here in Latin America. I am usually confused about what is going on in my house and who is going where and when. I just recently learned the difference between the words “ahora” and “ahorrita” and I wish I had known that from day one because it would have spared me a little bit of waiting time. Ahora means NOW; ahorrita means “in a little while” – which could mean really anywhere from 10 minutes to three hours. I thought ahorrita meant “right away” …oops!

I don’t fit into the Latin American culture in a lot of ways: I speak differently and express emotion differently. I am 21 and have never dated anyone, I like peanut butter on my bananas, my extended family on my mom’s side of the family is less than 20, and I think cigarette smoke gives me allergy problems (you would think this is funny, but when you are in a restaurant and people are smoking at the table nearby, it is hard to laugh when all you want is a Kleenex). I have brown hair and blue eyes and I like to run in the neighborhood. I am weird, I am tall, I don’t fit in.

I wrote in my journal while in Nicaragua how misunderstood I felt – my community did not understand who I was or why I was there (is this girl a missionary? A student? Why is she here?) I couldn’t explain my major very well or my faith and my Spanish abilities certainly did not help me in this endeavor. Yet I see now that I also misunderstood my Nicaraguan community. I had a conversation with a 16 year-old who told me how she wanted to become a lawyer to help women’s rights, especially with the “machismo” culture that exists within her community. She told me that she had a boyfriend and I assumed that, since she wanted to be a lawyer for women’s rights, her boyfriend must be respectful and good to her and not fit into this “machismo” prototype. But that wasn’t the case – he didn’t treat her very well. I asked her why she didn’t leave him, knowing that this would be a difficult and painful process, but worth doing. She tried to explain it to me: “it’s not that simple; you don’t understand.” And that’s the truth – it’s not that simple, and I don’t understand.

I think that these lessons are teaching me more than what I learn when I do “get it” or get an A on a test. I have to believe that God is huge because it is in this context of confusion that I see more and more my great weakness. I am incapable of so much here as a foreigner, not just because of the language barrier, but also cultural barriers and the ways of life here that aren’t familiar to me. I often long for home, for knowing what is going on, for understanding what is meant when we set a time (if we are leaving at 6:00 or actually 9:30am), what it means to go somewhere for “un rato” (which I think means for a couple hours…but sometimes can include all afternoon, cafecito, dinner, and dessert).

I like precision and details, fulfilling my curiosity and being “in the know.” I have had to give that up in Latin America. I don’t make plans rigidly, I don’t expect things to happen as quickly as I would like them to, and I know that I have to be flexible and “go with the flow.” I say “no sé,” “no entiendo,” “estoy confundida” a lot, but that’s reflective of bigger concepts too – not just the Spanish words but the bigger questions in life. I am grateful that God is bigger, stronger, mightier, and more loving than my small “yo sé”. I don’t understand a lot, but I think I’m in good company. We take small steps every day to try to “get it”. I understand some things a little more now…I know the difference between “ahora” and “ahorrita,” but the list is a thousand miles long of my questions and uncertainties.

But that’s okay. At least I’m certain at this point that that uncertainty, or lack of understanding is perfectly okay. And even though it at times makes me feel useless and rather incapable, it leads me to a greater appreciation of a God who can use me through his power (and his power alone!) – that is an incredible miracle.

“For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened” –Matthew 7:8

i'm back (for a short while!)

[me and most of the 1st grade class!]

I am back from my internship and will only be here in Costa Rica for a few days before I head off to Cuba! I had a really great three weeks in San Jose de la Montaña. I worked at an elementary school in the mountains of the Hereidia province (not too far away from my house in San José). My host mom is the cook at the elementary school and I helped her in the kitchen with various tasks – many of them were chopping, stirring, assembling food and lots and lots of dishes! I also did some random things around the school like helping the teachers if they needed something, but for the most part it was very low-key.

I was a little nervous before coming to my internship about living with another host family, but I think since this was the third time I was the gringa coming into a stranger’s home with my stuffed suitcase and a smile, it was pretty easy and I immediately felt at home which was a big blessing. I quickly became a huge fan of the tele-novela “Pasión de Gavilanes” which is a Spanish soap opera playing every night and became accustomed to going to bed before 10:00 and waking up at 6:00 . My house was about a quarter mile walk from the school and I shared a room with my 8-year old sister Barbara. Also living with me were my host parents and four sisters (ages 23, 20, 14, and 8). My 20-year old sister was 8.5 months pregnant when I arrived and that was a unique experience for me since we were so close in age but I felt like our lives were so completely different. I had a lot of fun helping her get her and the baby’s room ready, sorting through baby clothes, buying a dresser for her room, etc. And…I got to meet her son: Oscar Davíd who was born on April 8th (por dicha that I got to meet him since I left only 4 days later!) I was so grateful for the unique experience to be in the family during such a momentous event! He is adorable – with a head full of black hair and 10 precious tiny toes & fingers.
[oscar david and i]

The neighborhood was all family – aunts/uncles/cousins/grandkids ...I just decided to stop trying to figure out whose kids were whose and just consider them all family. It was fun to be in this small community and every morning the grandfather would pick us up to go the school, the kids and I would hop in the back of his pick-up truck (something I love about Latin America) and the dog, Negro, would run ahead of us to the school where we would get dropped off (Negro is the most precious dog and is a faithful companion to my host mom and follows her everywhere we go!).
[cousin gabriel and i]

I came home on my birthday and had a really special day with my host family welcoming back with flowers, a lovely dinner, and cake & ice cream! I was honestly really overwhelmed by the love I felt from my community in San Jose de la Montaña when I left and coming “home” to San Jose. I received little gifts, cake & ice cream from another LASP student’s family (he worked at a milk processing farm close by and I visited once afternoon a week ago – they remembered my birthday and bought a cake for me before I left!).

The Latin American people I have had the privilege of living with and getting to know have blessed my life in so many ways. They have embraced and loved me despite cultural and language barriers. They have invited me, a “gringa,” into their home and allowed me to live life with them, and in doing so I have learned so much – and I think that learning has taken place in my heart and mind on many levels.

i am excited for cuba but also overwhelmed by all the good byes and preparations i need to do before sunday. this is an incredible opportunity to go to a country most americans cannot visit so i really want to take advantage of it.

looking forward to seeing everyone soon!!!

bendiciones en latinoamérica

my semester in costa rica isn't exactly like a vacation. yes, i have vacationed on the beach, yes i do eat mangos and melon almost every day, and i have not worn my favorite north face fleece at all in 2011 (thank goodness!)... but this semester has probably been one of the most challenging semesters i have had. i'm faced with scary questions, big world issues, and different faith perspectives and ways of interpreting Scripture that makes it hard to process everything - especially in a place i'm not familiar with and without the people who know me the most.

last week i think i was in the "mid semester slump" and i cried frequently - but i am becoming more okay with my emotions (haha) and am learning to let the tears come, and then keep a' goin! (with the encouragement and prayer of family and friends, of course! i certainly can't do this by myself!) sometimes that means wearing my new "boy ban" sunglasses (fake ray bands bought in nicaragua - i couldn't resist) to cover up puffy eyes, sometimes it means listening to katy perry over and over again on the exercise machine (i'm a firework! thanks k.p.), and just praying that God would give me peace and a thankful heart for what he is teaching me here in latin america.

this week has been better and i think God has placed it on my heart to work towards a greater spirit of thankfulness (something i always need to be working harder towards) and so i want to write a little bit about some of the things i am so thankful for and some of the ways i have been touched and loved this semester.

[hermanas: gabi, me, glori, susan]

these are my sisters at their soccer game right before nicaragua. while i don't get to spend a lot of time with them each day because we are both in school and they work as well, they have been so patient, kind, and loving to me. they invite me to almost everything that they do whether they are going to hang out with their friends, go to the movies, or are just watching TV. they help me with my spanish homework, always greet me with a hug & kiss and are willing to help me in whatever way they can. they are such a blessing.

[nicaragua friends]

i honestly can't look at this picture without getting the biggest smile on my face and starting to laugh. one day i came home from being at the church in our little town in nicaragua and these two men were sitting outside my house smoking and just chatting. the man on the left (i am embarrassed to say that i didn't catch their names) is my uncle and the man the right is his friend. apparently my uncle worked in the US for a number of years doing some kind of electrical work and we talked all about northern california, the freeways, and where he used to work (being born in no. cal was a huge advantage for me since i met a lot of nicaraguans who had worked in the san francisco area!). they talked about different spanish accents and how mexicans and nicaraguans speak differently. they were so funny and i had so much fun laughing with them, comparing spanish accents, and listening to them talk back and forth to one another with such expression and emotion. i had to take a picture to remember them and one of the best conversations i had in nicaragua.

[some other blessings]

on monday i had a wonderful skype date with my dear aunt and grandma b. it was so much fun to talk to them, and i was even more excited when i got a letter in the mail from my grandma! it made my day and i was so happy to sit outside and read from her beautiful handwriting. thanks grandma!

this weekend i learned some new recipes! cake ("que que"), gallo pinto, and patacones (delish!). i also met up with a friend in san jose and saw some beautiful art, laughed a lot with my host parents, and decided that i probably will never completely understand how to properly use the imperfect and preterite tenses (but i think i'm okay with that).

i am blessed in so many ways ...and those blessings have continued to come in unique times and places here in latin america, even during times where i feel overwhelmed. so, i want to end by saying, as we do in latinoamérica, gracias a Dios.