“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less that in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell you r way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis, all is grace.” – Frederick Buechner

With one week left in Chimbote the mingle of emotions has me a little loca, but fully enjoying and soaking in the beauty that is being here.  It’s really a special, sacred time of sharing meals and activities, reminiscing, appreciating and dreaming with good friends, students, co-workers, my community…both thrilled and excited to be reunited with family and friends back home and nostalgic and sad to be saying goodbye for now to those here.  I will miss dearly the souls I’ve weaved with, joined and journeyed with from awkward misunderstands to full conversations as time taught me a thing or two about language, tutoring with the kids in the La Balanza, Tuesdays team meetings and community nights, the dog and motor sounds of the street, ceviche Sundays, and so so much more… but, I have that gut feeling that tells me this is a special place I’ll come back to, and that helps me not to get so weary.  I want to embrace with great joy and gratitude my last days here, and I ask for the grace to do so with all of my senses so as to hold it tight and keep it with me.

Reflecting

Last week were asked by a class of students in San Antonio, TX to share a bit on Liberation Theology and how we see that surfacing here. Below is some of what I shared…
The concept of a theology of liberation can mean very little without lived exposure or eye/ear witness to real stories of those disenfranchised, marginalized, and forgotten by those of mainstream society. And, especially coming from a 1st world country where we live in large numbers lives that are comfortable and don’t necessarily come in contact with the struggles of those elsewhere in the world, it can seem very foreign. The term came to existence for me in my university studies, and part of my motivation for coming here was an exhaustion of merely having the theory, which propelled a longing and restlessness for more…a real taste so to speak of what it means to seek justice from the bottom up and not the top down as is the norm.

Being here in Chimbote has inspired endless questions to live and ask each day, as the effects of our country’s actions and economics so obviously impede with life here. We are so not living in right relationship with our brothers and sisters, and if we continue living as we are the polarization will only widen. I think that liberation theology calls us to live in relationship with all creation, to really know and understand the impact that our choices have on others, and to seek Christ in others living out a radical love that knows no boundaries. It is empowerment and the upholding of a deserving inherent dignity of all, working together, allowing others to flourish and the opportunity to make moral decisions. I work in a neighborhood where corruption rules, which leads to corruption and more corruption. For example, the other day, one of my clients reported the abuse of her neighbor’s child by the mother, but was afraid for her life that “friends” of the mother would come after her. There, if you’re not “in with” the corrupt, you are the corrupt, and you become the target. And, this is not only in existence in one neighborhood, it’s all over. People silenced by fear. I ask, “How can a country, a people, grow and develop with so much corruption? And, how can we give people the opportunity or choice to do good?” More and more I see that it starts small, on the personal level, at the heart. It is spiritual. It is in forming loving relationships, telling real stories that move, that reveal, that empower, that transform and connect, and in turn give hope and inspire change. I imagine a world where we all walk around with Jesus’ “I am with you” servant attitude seeing each and every person as a member of our family; Peace fills my heart and the truth feels that much closer. Serving, connecting with, and working alongside my neighbors here is just the start…

Also, my roommate Emily just wrote a blog on a current mining issue going on in Cajamarca, Peru. I’m including the link, as the mining company involved is based out of Denver, CO, thus you all should know and act if you see fit. If this mining company goes through with its project, it will pollute the main source of water of an entire city! Please read: http://emilyruskamp.blogspot.com/2012/04/say-no-to-conga.html

We Believe

A prayer from CRS’s Prayer Without Borders collection on Celebrating Global Wisdom that touches on a lot of things that have been on my heart as of late:

I will not believe in the law of the strongest,
In the language of guns,
In the power of the powerful.

I want to believe in the rights of all,
In the open hand,
In the strength of the non-violent.

I will not believe in race or riches,
In privileges,
In the established order.

I want to believe that all human beings
Are human beings
And that the order of force and of injustice
Is a disorder.

I will not believe that I don’t have to concern myself
With what happens far from here.

I want to believe that the whole world
Is my home, the field that I sow,
And that all reap what all have sown.

I will not believe that I can combat oppression out there
If I tolerate injustice here.

I want to believe that what is right
Is the same here and there
And that I will not be free
While even one human being is being excluded.

I will not believe that war and hunger are inevitable
And that peace is inaccessible.

I want to believe in the love of bare hands,
In peace on earth.

I will not believe that any effort is in vain.
I will not believe that the dream of human beings
Continues being only a dream
And that death is the end.

But I dare to believe in the dream of God:
A new heaven, a new earth
Where justice reigns.

A Letter

Good day to you! About a month ago we returned to Chimbote from our retreat in Mexico. It was quite the whirlwind leaving the country after having been here for so long, and we enjoyed it, especially meeting up with the other missionaries in our program, sharing stories with them, reflecting, embracing some new customs and food, friends, etc.
The retreat was structured around the theme of storytelling, thus our first task was to tell our mission story using any mode we preferred. I wrote a letter and would like to share a modified version of it with you all:

February 26, 2012

Querida Familia,

Here we are…I feel rather blest to meet you in this space. We have so many deep wells of wisdom; I am overwhelmed with gratitude immersed in the beauty of it. I decided to write a letter since one, it’s a favorite pastime of mine, and two, it’s been an excellent tool for sharing my experience and processing some of the weightier things thus far…here’s just a glimpse. In reality it’s so much bigger and I trust I’ll be unwrapping the gifts for years to come.

I was waiting to be awakened, set on taking some “fallow time” after DePaul. I’ve never been good at making life plans, but knew I wanted something Jesus, Day, Ghandi, Berrigan-style, that radical unconditional loving that transforms. I was ready to get out of my peacemaking, theology textbooks, and short term mission world, and really live it. St. Vincent’s words told me to “Just Go!” I said, “Where?” And, God called me to Peru.

Life was different than I had expected-our house much bigger and with more amenities than I had conjured up. There was tension in community at times, little trust, and contradicting perspectives on what missionary life looked like in terms of simplicity, solidarity, hospitality. I often asked myself, “How can I go deeper? How can I love bigger and harder? How am I carrying what’s being offered? How can we grow as a community with these differences? Can we be radical in other ways? What are they? I continued to live the questions…

Living out language lessons in not only Spanish, but humility, rattled my world a bit. And things happened a lot like Jesuit Dean Brackley told us, “Things fall apart (it sure feels like it), the visitor’s world is coming unhinged. They feel resistance, naturally, to a current that threatens to sweep them out of control. They feel a little confused, like the disorientation of falling in love. In fact, that is what is happening, a kind of falling in love. The earth trembles. My horizon is opening up. I’m on unfamiliar ground, entering a richer, more real world.”

After a couple of weeks of discernment and disorientation that continued of course, I had my heart set on working at Centro Amar, a support center for women in prostitution and the rights for women and children run by the Good Shepherd sisters. I fell in love with their mission (which is quite similar to that of IWM), the sisters, their work, and our team of local lay volunteers. I started out accompanying Hermana (Sister) Karina, a young sister from Arequipa in preparation for her final vows, in every which way soaking in like a sponge anything my useful senses could grasp. Karina quickly became a dear friend to me. She took me on house visits to the families in our program, sat with me for hours while I tried to tell her my story sin vocab (without words), animated her own with exaggerated gestures and sound effects, we danced a shared music, she introduced me to the barrio (neighborhood) “La Balanza” that has ruined me for life (in a good way), and we delved into developing a prevention program there together for the children of the women in our program. She continues to be one of my closest friends in Peru and we worked together up until she was sent elsewhere. We keep in touch now and then, and she remains a huge support and source of encouragement to keep going strong. I took over the project when she left later to team up with another sacred soul, Rita (I’ll get to her in a minute). “Balanza Corazón” became my nickname at work and it resonated. It’s a place that breaks me, makes me think and feel in ways I never thought possible. A soup of social issues all tangled and stirred up of selling sex, drug negocio (drug business), prison, violence, no to little education-each family a different recipe of these ingredients breeding more: Moms leaving during our classes and workshops made-up, barely dressed, ready to work, the fourteen year old daughter tagging along, her six kids locked at home alone for hours while she works, the three different dads dead and/or in prison, baby Daniel three months old in wet diaper all day breast fed by the neighbor when mom’s too drunk, the fifteen year old shot and killed in front of four year old Juliana when her older brother got mad and pulled out his pistol, rateros (robbers) on the street corner training the young ones, and police who respond with violence when called to “help” in La Balanza. It’s yucky, yes, and difficult, but the heaviness of their reality, walking with the different stories, walking with the different stories I’ve come to know and love, brings great meaning and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. The children who call Pasaje Grau (street name) in La Balanza home are my little graces. They do not know all that is up against them, they are hope and seeds are being planted. I couldn’t be more proud of them, worried about them and inexplicably in love with them. They’ve shown great improvements over the last year and a half both behaviorally and scholastically, which is exciting.

I met Rita, my Peruvian mother, through work at Centro Amar. She’s beautifully gentle and sweet, short and chubby, passionate and always wanting to get her hands into the nitty gritty of our work. She’s a full-time volunteer these days and has been helping me out for about a year now, and will continue the project when I transition out. Rita keeps me in line, pushes me when I need it the most, is the definition of hospitality (I swear she thinks I never get full), and nothing could ever replace the special connection we have…from birthdays, weddings, to her mother’s illness and death, we’ve really shared a lot. There is nothing like holding a grown woman sobbing sacred pain, and then having her do the same for me. I will be a better mom, and am a better daughter and stronger woman because of her.

The first year whizzed by. Our community grew and I have many good memories to cherish with Marcelle and Emily among the challenges that have formed us as great teaching/learning moments of love, acceptance, and intentionally living in relationship.

I was not quite prepared for the change in direction that came our second year: Pervious program directors saying goodbyes unexpectedly, transitioning with the new, and facing some difficulties with that.

Our new community, “Casa Mana,” is light and life. Home is a good place, and each day I am inspired in different ways by my housemates. They are support, accompaniment, and we are growing together. Katie’s smile, joyous spirit, and compassionate ways are contagious, Emily’s dedication, faith, and hard work, admirable and spiritual, and Kyle’s sincerity, patience, and ability to listen, I seek to emulate. Gratitude is my motto.

Nothing I would do over and I’m not sure what’s next and that’s okay. I’ve been molded, humbled, broken, and loved back up to wholeness over again and again. I continue to live the questions, be better about prayer, and knowing God through the Bible. I’m still stubborn at times, yet walk a bit more gently. The families I’ve been graced with are gems. I’ve been empowered by the food culture and beauty of hospitality that is so effortless here to explore a dream of mine to open up a community based coffeehouse, affirmed in its mission, my desire is to make it a reality with the gifts I have to see it through with the help of those I’ve met along the way.

I am grateful, I will live more deeply and love bigger-my life is forever intertwined with those of Chimbote, my communities, IWM-I embrace it. And while I feel this doesn’t quite do justice to the individuals who have been sacred companions on the journey, I think I’ll close with a poem by Jeanne Lohman called “Praise what Comes.”

Surprising as unplanned kisses,
all you haven’t deserved of days and solitude,
your body’s immoderate good health that lets you work in many kinds of weather. Praise

talk with just about anyone. And quiet intervals,
books that are your food and your hunger; nightfall and walks before sleep.
Praising these for practice perhaps

you will come at last to praise grief and the wrongs you never intended.
At the end there may be no answers and only few very simple questions: did I love,
finish my task in the world (in this place)? Learn at least one of the many names of God?
At the intersection, the boundaries where on life began and another

Ended, the jumping-off place between fear and possibility, at the ragged edges of pain,
did I catch the smallest glimpse of the holy?

With hope and peace,
Kelli

Beatitudes From Chimbote

Blessed are they who accept the challenge to live the way of love, for they have encountered the mystery and now know what they must do.

Blessed are they who weave compassion and solidarity, for the tapestry of peace that they create on earth shall lead them to God’s.

Blessed are they who seek you, have lost you, resist you, want you, for when they need it the most your grace will find them and fill them, lead them and send them.

Blessed are they who perhaps suffer the most, whether that be inflicted by self or others, knowingly, unknowingly, for they are in many ways closer to the truth.

Blessed are they who attempt to see your immense beauty in all living things, all creation, for they shall know you profoundly and be moved by your contagious love.

Blessed are they who share joy with others, signs of your love manifested physically, for they shall infect others and come to know real communion.

And, Spirit of Love, blessed be La Balanza, for generational poverty will not be the end of a people whose hope and strength lies in you.

Blessed be the pregnant mother who sits outsides her home each day holding her side waiting for the pain to end from the child she does not want, for they are gifts, the mom-someone’s hero, and yet she does not know it.

Blessed be the six children who day after day are locked in their home waiting for someone to return, hands reaching out of the holes in the door, crying, wanting, for they are ours, they are God’s and only seek love, hold them.

Blessed be the fourteen year old sold for sex because that’s what happened to her mother and to her grandmother, for she has a future and is ready to open the windows of her soul to you to end this cycle.

Blessed be all of them…

The man killed by a government, the one who pulled the trigger, the nonviolent peacemakers who prayed for an alternative end, the dad who steals for his family, the boy of four years who sells gum to buy bread, the ill grandparent calling for rest,  the growing missionary and her community…

And the sky, majestic waters, your whisper in the wind, for we will listen and go.

Meet Cute

He walked toward me sharing the sidewalk in his dust washed jeans, simple brown jacket, worn sneakers, a grand toothless grin, his thin body carrying a head held high with what seemed a disposition of, “life is good.” I watched him, drawn by this composition, suddenly sucked into his world. It was as though he was moving to his own soundtrack making other creatures come to life with his nod, the point of his finger, or shine of his eyes. Stopping abruptly as if he had dropped something, he spun around, retraced a few steps and reached to greet a small butterfly who without hesitation claimed home on his hand. The man of about forty or so years stood, turned, and continued his walk in my direction glowing with a contentment that became my own. As we approached the point of meeting he invited the butterfly to his chest where it lingered. Our eyes met, the man’s and mine, and we shared a smile that filled me up and continues to do so this very moment. How I wish to speak of God’s love like him.

“Abundance is not something we acquire. It is something we tune into.”

This time of year, the land that I’ve called home all of my life is filled with colorful changing leaves, and a scent in the air that says winter is upon us. That time of bundling in sweaters and drinking extra hot drinks takes me to a place inside that laughs of being with good friends and family. In my new home we just welcomed spring. Days are singing with more sunshine and slowly jackets are being replaced by short sleeves and gobs of sunscreen (for me at least). Before we know it Chimbote will be headed for the beach, and youngsters will be reveling in vacation time. I find it so funny how so often the seasons of Mother Nature and her transitions coincide with our very own.

I smelled the change with August rolling in. Our housemate, Marcelle, was preparing to return to the States, and two new volunteers, Katie and Kyle, were preparing to join us. The anticipation of personal and communal transformation made me antsy and excited. I decided to receive it all openly, ready for whatever would come my way in trust that no matter what, it would all be okay. This change in company also meant the completion of an anniversary, mine and Emily’s one year in Chimbote! Can I say, “Wow!” I don’t think I can even begin to describe how this makes me feel…memories flood my mind, and I swim in a little bit of sadness if I look too far ahead knowing that one day I will have to say, “goodbye for now.” I think of the good souls that have been a part of creating me thus far, I embrace them and I thank them in my heart knowing that I would not be where I am without them. I often recall the fact that I wasn’t invited here, but that this community has allowed me to call Chimbote home. Not only do I feel like a friend. I feel very much like a sister, a daughter. There’s so much to just say, “gracias” for!

Well, enough mush, right? Well, I can tell you that we’ve revamped some of the programming at my work site in the hopes of a more solid foundation and better sustainability. After spending about a month writing up, discussing, and meeting over a work plan, we’ve just started to actualize it with a new class schedule for academic reinforcement, a new women’s knitting group (so far we have one super enthusiastic member! And growth looks promising), recruitment of new volunteers, and various other activities, all part of our prevention program. So far things look good, however I am still planning some additional changes to enhance parent/child relationships. Suggestions are always welcome.

Let me give you a glimpse of some of the other happenings:

-I went to and helped prepare for my first Peruvian wedding, an all evening and night long dance and picture-taking extravaganza let me tell you. My Peruvian mom, Rita, planned and made all of the arrangements for her son’s wedding, and as her partner in crime I had the opportunity to learn how it’s all done. I am pretty much a professional when it comes to wedding cakes and memorabilia these days.

-I’ve adopted “Ceviche Sundays” into my schedule when it works out, so as to enjoy good time in good company with my favorite Peruvian dish (ceviche: raw fish marinated in lime with onions, chili peppers, salt, and other goodness).

-As I’ve mentioned, Kyle and Katie expanded our community to four (five if you include Fidea, our cat) about six weeks ago, and the atmosphere in the house is very alive-I am loving it.

-Our cat, Fidea, got nervous and fled in transit to the “blessing of the pets” service at our church last weekend. After a night as anxious parents, we were happy to welcome her home the next morning.

-My hamburger consumption is getting lower and lower. I’m not quite sure what’s wrong with me.

-One of my 8-year-old students asked me why I don’t trim my eyebrows. I told her that I like them long and bushy.

-Centro AMAR (the organization I work with) just celebrated their 10-year anniversary in Chimbote with a seminar on human trade and trafficking, a topic we’ve been studying as a team. Check it out! http://www.humantrafficking.org/

Glimpses

Housemates

Chimbote from the Sky

A Day at the Market

Guinea Pig

Fidea, our cat

Our ducks (though now eaten): Salsa, Mostaza, Anticucho

Club de Madres: Mom’s Club (A knitting group for women that I acompany on Fridays)

Muñeca: The doll we made and blew up for New Year’s with our neighbors

Choir: Canticos del Sol

 

Estoy Aquí

Time for a little update, don’t you think? I will not feel bad being given the name Slacker in the blog department. So often my thoughts swarm in a slew of happenings I want to share, but the patience and discipline to sit down and put them all together overwhelms the desire in me to be out experiencing all that is here. But, alas I am here to connect and hope to convey a bit to you with a menagerie of words and soon to come images.

Health is good. The last update if I recall included a bit about a stomach episode I had after enjoying a delicious hamburger, which turned into further digestion issues, and then a parasite scare. After three visits to the lab with my goodies, however, I can say all is well and that my body is not housing and feeding small creatures.

My roommates and I lived through the season of lent having given up the use of electricity and eating solely rice, beans, and steamed veggies for lunch. Post resurrection, I think I can speak for all that while we enjoyed the bonding that happens huddled around candlelight, we greatly appreciate having light after 6pm and variety in food. The Easter celebrations in Chimbote included several reenactments of the passion in the form of pilgrimages throughout the city, as well as a last supper with the youth in our parish. Such activities in the context of being in a developing country had me experiencing this season in a very different, seemingly more real way this year. And, while I’m still unsure of how I feel about it all, reflecting on the social implications of the time of Jesus and how that translates here with people today who are persecuted in varying ways due to countless issues that relate us all in some way is quite fascinating, humbling, overwhelming, etc…

Just last week after some reorganizing at my work site with Centro Amar, I’ve been named coordinator of our project in La Balanza, a neighborhood where the majority of our clients and their families live. This being said, I’m still getting myself organized with what this new responsibility means, but I’m rather excited, as this sector is one I’ve really come to know and love in the time I’ve been here. It’s quite reenergizing in terms of feeling more confident with the language, using the studies I’ve been so passionate about for the past several years, developing stronger relationships, and in a very personal way feeling connected to the children and women who live there and our lives from here on out being forever intertwined in an important way. More stories will come as this new endeavor unfolds.

For now, I’ve decided to share some exchanges I’ve had with the children I work with in La Balanza. Just like children everywhere, their curiosity and view of the world never fails to entertain, warm and break hearts.

“Hermana, is it cool in the United States?” asked Adrian. “Well, yes, I would say so,” I responded, “but I think it’s pretty cool here too, don’t you think?” He sat for a few seconds thinking, then shrugged his shoulders with an “I guess so, Hermana.”

“Hermana, do you know how to add and subtract?” Otilia asks with a smirk hand on hip. Always my student with an attitude I can count on her little 7 year-old challenge. “Of course I do, I’m teaching you aren’t I?” I asked smiling back at her. “Let’s see, Hermana, two plus three?” “Five,” I say. Wide eyed she smiles and says, “Wow, she knows.”

“I don’t what it’s called. It’s like a period and a comma put together,” I said, dictating a paragraph to Jefferson in Spanish not knowing the word for semicolon. He looked at me puzzled and then laughed, “Oh, Hermana, it’s a punto comma.” “Ah, gracias,” I said, “What would I do without you?”

One day, two of the young girls I work with were clearly arguing about something in hushed voices during class when one looked up at me, “Right, Hermana, you’re from the United States? And, you know English?” The other then asks, “Say something in English, Hermana, please. If I finish this whole page of addition problems can you teach me English?”

“Why are you so tall, Hermana?” asked Madalein looking up at me.

“Hermana, why do you have so much blonde hair on your arms?” Melanio asks while pulling at my arm hairs in awe at the difference in comparing it with his.

Hermana, do you have family?

Does everyone have money in the United States, Hermana?

Hermana, are there poor people there like there are here?

LOVE

“Love has befriended me so completely It has freed me from every concept and image my mind has ever known.” -Hafiz

It’s the life of the soul. Share it today, and everyday!

Happy day of Love 🙂