Tonight is my last night in Caracas. We leave tomorrow morning at 5am. There is so much to think about and reflect on as I return. I know it's going to take weeks, months, and years to process this experience.
Last week we finished the kids club. The kids really seemed to enjoy their time, and I hope we were able to be a blessing for them. When I first arrived I wondered a lot about the purpose of having Americans here when it seemed like Venezuelans could just be peacemakers and bearers of the Good News among themselves. Yet, in our time in the barrio, we haven't met anyone who at this time is willing and prepared to take on that step of leadership. Part of InnerCHANGE's mission is to develop local leaders, and that is something the team here has been working on since they first arrived. It's also been interesting to see how the team is able to be so prophetic among Venezuelans. Whenever we tell Venezuelans where we live, they are always completely surprised and can't believe we live in a barrio. If you aren't from a barrio, you would never dream of going to one because of the fear of violence. Many Venezuelans are learning from us how to live in the barrio, in solidarity with our neighbors.
At the same time, we also learn daily from our Venezuelan neighbors. They are a huge blessing of protection for us, looking out for our safety. They are people just like us, living life, caring for family, doing laundry, cooking, etc. Waking up at 5am to stand outside and wait for gas for your stove on the one day a week it comes is a way of bonding with your neighbors, as is having your clothes smell moldy because it rained while they were drying, or having to set traps for mice and chase away the cockroaches. Living also means sharing meals, sharing sorrows, and always, always celebrating!
At first everything here seemed so different and challenging for me. Now, riding the jeep up and down the hill, shopping in the market, and taking cold showers just seems like normal life. I'm grateful I had the opportunity to get past the first few weeks of discomfort to arrive at this place of normalcy. Because it seems normal to me now, I'm also able to view the individuals living in the barrio as people like me, not people to be pitied or people to be put on a pedestal as the poor who are just grateful to receive a little. Each one has a personality, has likes and dislikes, and strengths and weaknesses. What we can offer each other is our varying experiences of life and worldview, and use those relationships to shape the way we love and live out our callings from God.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Two Observations About Discrimination
I've noticed a couple of interesting things about discrimination here:
1) In the newspaper, there are job notices. Some of these include very specific criteria, such as "woman, aged 20-25, looks nice, college degree." I was rather surprised to find that you can specify not only the gender of the person you want to hire, but also the age, and also hire based on physical appearance.
2) One thing I've really come to appreciate about living in the barrio is that there is no discrimination of people based on skin color. A person as light-skinned as me could marry someone with very dark skin, and no one would even think to care. There are all shades of skin represented here, and everyone just lives together without even thinking of segregating based on that. It's very refreshing and encouraging. I think it also generates, or perhaps is evidence of, a stronger sense of community.
1) In the newspaper, there are job notices. Some of these include very specific criteria, such as "woman, aged 20-25, looks nice, college degree." I was rather surprised to find that you can specify not only the gender of the person you want to hire, but also the age, and also hire based on physical appearance.
2) One thing I've really come to appreciate about living in the barrio is that there is no discrimination of people based on skin color. A person as light-skinned as me could marry someone with very dark skin, and no one would even think to care. There are all shades of skin represented here, and everyone just lives together without even thinking of segregating based on that. It's very refreshing and encouraging. I think it also generates, or perhaps is evidence of, a stronger sense of community.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
My Day at the Beach
So, ever since I arrived we've talked about going to the beach. I was very excited about the thought of swimming in the Caribbean and all that. So, we planned to go this past Wednesday. However, when we woke up, it was cloudy. We decided to go anyway, and took the metro downtown to catch a bus. We'd lathered up with sunscreen and de-haired ourselves (shaving your legs is pointless when you only ever wear pants), except I was going to have them help me with putting sunscreen on my back once we got to the beach. Anyway, when we arrived downtown it was about 9:30, and it was starting to rain. We were totally bummed, but decided to use the bathroom in the mall. Adrienne was suffering from a little of the Big D (diarrhea), and the first bathroom was closed, so we had to find a second one. Then we decided to get some chicha, a local rice milk drink that's kind of like Mexican horchata but sweeter and thicker. The KT and Adrienne were all excited for me to get to try some good chicha that was made with purified water, since most of it on the streets is not, but it turned out to be some of the nastiest they've had! Then we sat in the mall and talked for awhile, before the sun finally started to come out at around 11:30. We decided we'd still try to make it to the beach, even if we could only be there for about three hours, so we got on the bus.
About twenty minutes into the ride, the money collector got made at KT for having her feet on the seat. He proceeded to glare at us for the next half hour. Then we got into conversation with some people around us. Everyone had different advice on what beach we should stop at, and with the money collector finally smiling at us, we chose one. However, when we got to the beach we realized we should have listened to one of the warnings of the Venezuelans on the bus because it was totally rocky. There was a small roped off area where people were swimming, kind of like the kids' section on a lake. I was thinking, I didn't come to the beach for this! We decided to walk a little farther to the next beach over, which looked a little better. The clouds were ominous, but at least we kind of had the place to ourselves.
We went in for our first swim, and then laid down for awhile. It started to rain, but we endured. KT and I went in the water and were floating around when we both kept feeling like we were being stung. Then we noticed a huge brown blog in the water, and we quickly swam to shore! She was still stinging from what we think was a jellyfish, so we applied some anti-sting stuff. We got hungry and decided to get some lunch at a little hut nearby. We ate some really expensive fish, which of course arrived as a whole fish, tail and eye included. Adrienne had a seafood soup, which was basically broth with claws. At that point the sun was finally coming out, so we thought we'd enjoy another 45 minutes of sun and surf before heading home. Just as we were ready to leave, and I was finally dry, I felt like I needed to go to the bathroom, and as the ocean was going to be my only option for the next hour or so, I figured I'd go back in. The waves were really rough, and kind of got knocked over, so that when I got out I realized my suit was full of rocks and sand, and I needed to go back in to get it out. I was trying to get back to a deeper part, but the current had gotten really strong, so I was stuck in the shallow rocky area. A big wave kind of pushed me over, and then I saw another huge one coming! It was starting to crest, so I knew I had no chance of riding it. I plugged my nose and closed my eyes, and the wave totally pushed me into the rocks. My sunglasses were gone, as was my hair tie. I stumbled to my feet, tugging on the bottom of my tankini. My eyes were full of salt water, soI couldn't see very well. I was starting to stagger toward the beach when I discovered that I was topless! My tankini top had been pushed down, and I was standing there bare-chested! I'm sure the other man in the ocean fully appreciated the free show. I pulled up my suit and gotup onto the beach where I discovered that my legs and arms were bleeding from being scraped on the rocks, and I now had more rocks and sand than ever in my suit!
So, wewent back to the kiddie beach where I went back in to rinse off. We then ran to catch a bus back to the city. Wemet up with a friend for ice cream, and got home around 8:30. I really wanted to shower, but needed to do a little laundry first (it's done by hand here), so as I was doing that, the phone rang and it was one of the team members wanting to hear about what happened. As I was describing that, I was attacked by a huge cockroach! It flew into my leg, then into the bathroom. Then I discovered I had a sunburn on my back because we had forgotten to put on the sunscreen. Then I bumped my head on the concrete doorjamb.
All in all, it was quite a day! I really couldn't stop laughing, and I was very thankful to God so be with such nice people to help me survive!
About twenty minutes into the ride, the money collector got made at KT for having her feet on the seat. He proceeded to glare at us for the next half hour. Then we got into conversation with some people around us. Everyone had different advice on what beach we should stop at, and with the money collector finally smiling at us, we chose one. However, when we got to the beach we realized we should have listened to one of the warnings of the Venezuelans on the bus because it was totally rocky. There was a small roped off area where people were swimming, kind of like the kids' section on a lake. I was thinking, I didn't come to the beach for this! We decided to walk a little farther to the next beach over, which looked a little better. The clouds were ominous, but at least we kind of had the place to ourselves.
We went in for our first swim, and then laid down for awhile. It started to rain, but we endured. KT and I went in the water and were floating around when we both kept feeling like we were being stung. Then we noticed a huge brown blog in the water, and we quickly swam to shore! She was still stinging from what we think was a jellyfish, so we applied some anti-sting stuff. We got hungry and decided to get some lunch at a little hut nearby. We ate some really expensive fish, which of course arrived as a whole fish, tail and eye included. Adrienne had a seafood soup, which was basically broth with claws. At that point the sun was finally coming out, so we thought we'd enjoy another 45 minutes of sun and surf before heading home. Just as we were ready to leave, and I was finally dry, I felt like I needed to go to the bathroom, and as the ocean was going to be my only option for the next hour or so, I figured I'd go back in. The waves were really rough, and kind of got knocked over, so that when I got out I realized my suit was full of rocks and sand, and I needed to go back in to get it out. I was trying to get back to a deeper part, but the current had gotten really strong, so I was stuck in the shallow rocky area. A big wave kind of pushed me over, and then I saw another huge one coming! It was starting to crest, so I knew I had no chance of riding it. I plugged my nose and closed my eyes, and the wave totally pushed me into the rocks. My sunglasses were gone, as was my hair tie. I stumbled to my feet, tugging on the bottom of my tankini. My eyes were full of salt water, soI couldn't see very well. I was starting to stagger toward the beach when I discovered that I was topless! My tankini top had been pushed down, and I was standing there bare-chested! I'm sure the other man in the ocean fully appreciated the free show. I pulled up my suit and gotup onto the beach where I discovered that my legs and arms were bleeding from being scraped on the rocks, and I now had more rocks and sand than ever in my suit!
So, wewent back to the kiddie beach where I went back in to rinse off. We then ran to catch a bus back to the city. Wemet up with a friend for ice cream, and got home around 8:30. I really wanted to shower, but needed to do a little laundry first (it's done by hand here), so as I was doing that, the phone rang and it was one of the team members wanting to hear about what happened. As I was describing that, I was attacked by a huge cockroach! It flew into my leg, then into the bathroom. Then I discovered I had a sunburn on my back because we had forgotten to put on the sunscreen. Then I bumped my head on the concrete doorjamb.
All in all, it was quite a day! I really couldn't stop laughing, and I was very thankful to God so be with such nice people to help me survive!
Friday, July 10, 2009
Valuing Life
I think that in the U.S. when we talk about valuing life, it often refers to a few hot topics: abortion, capital punishment, and euthanasia. Personally, I agree that they are all life issues, but I think there is more to valuing life than focusing on it's earthly beginnings and ends.
Here are some examples of ways in the last week or so that I have been challenged to value life:
Parties
Celebrations in Venezuela are a big deal, especially for birthdays. In the last week I have had the opportunity to attend two surprise birthday parties at the same house. It's a small home, with one bedroom, a kitchen area, and a living area. The living room is probably about the size of an average bedroom in the U.S. (not as big as a master bedroom), but it has about three couches and a small entertainment center in it. There were about fifteen of us at the parties, I think. We had popcorn and danced. Music is a big part of life here, but at the first party the electricity went out so we made our own. It made for a really special occasion, actually. We also had cake, of course, but here's it's served with Jell-O instead of ice cream. In the house live an older woman, her daughter, and the daughter's four children. One of them is a girl, and the other three are boys. All the boys have muscular dystrophy, and they recently lost an older fourth brother. It's rare to live past the age of twenty with this disease, so the future seems bleak for the other three, who continue to experience degeneration themselves. It's incredibly sad and tragic, yet, the family and neighbors are wonderfully loving in the way they include the boys in the activities. It's an odd experience, I imagine, to watch all three dying before your eyes. At the same time, I was struck by the fact that actually that's happening to all of us, just at a slower pace. I think it makes it easier to not think about death when it's not so obviously looming, but how would our lives be different if we did acknowledge it?
Violence
There is a lot of violence in the barrios. We are careful about not being out too late at night. We are almost always home in the early evening, and if we can't get home by 10pm we'll probably spend the night where we're at. Where we live is actually not too bad, especially because we benefit from the longevity of the team here, and the relationships they've formed. There are definitely people around who look out for us. In the barrio where we have been running the kids club, we have heard about violence since day one. Sometimes it's hard to overcome the fear of it when I go, and yet I know that my life is not any more valuable than one of the lives there, and fear is not from God. It also helps to know, for my own safety at least, that most of the violence is not random. As I've mentioned in previous posts, there is a strong sense of vengeance, so most violence is a response to a previous incident. This past Tuesday we were heading to the neighborhood for the afternoon kids club. Two motorcycles of police passed us, which I noticed. Though I've always been pretty observant, I think my time in Santa Ana has sharpened my observation skills regarding public safety. Anyway, a man on the street pointed them down in a certain direction. When we got near the area I saw a large crowd of people. At that point we turned down a street to go to the chapel where we hold the club. We were setting up when a young man we know came in and told us that someone had been shot. Shortly after that his aunt came and said that no mothers would be letting their kids go to the club that day, and that for our own safety we should leave. Before leaving we prayed for awhile in the chapel. At that point another of our contacts came and said it had been a fifteen year old boy that had been shot and killed. Apparently the boy had been threatening and shooting at other people, and for that reason other people had been hunting him for quite awhile. I guess they saw him riding on his motorcycle, and took advantage of the opportunity. Pondering the violence here has raised some interesting emotions for me. Having to think about it all the time in my work, and yet not having a close Christian community outside of work with whom to process, has meant that I've resorted to my own devices to deal with it. A result of this has been a sort of fatalistic callousness to the whole thing, where I'm not so touched by it. In a way I think you have to develop a tough skin to be able to move on, and yet the problem with this is that when you don't care as much anymore, you also don't care as much to try to stop it. I've lost some of my passion and compassion to seek peace because it's hard to continue to care that much. As a group we also talked about the different ways we all grieve in these situations, and I'm realizing that for myself, I need to be more intentional about my grieving process, and make sure it's something I don't deal with simply in my head, but that my heart is involved as well.
Sharing a Meal
This week I had the opportunity to go with our group to have dinner with a Venezuelan couple that we know. They have been loosely involved with some of InnerCHANGE's activities here for quite awhile. I've met them a few times already this summer, and really enjoy their company. The husband prepared a chicken curry with roti. His family is originally from Guyana, a neighboring country with a strong Indian influence. The food was absolutely amazing, but more so the company. The couple are two individuals that are great to talk with about all kinds of things. They are thoughtful and engaged, yet fun and humorous. Such times are moments I cherish even at home, and yet all the more so in a foreign country. Despite our cultural and language differences, we are still able to connect on a deep level because of our common faith and values. I was totally fed by that meal.
I only have two weeks left here in Caracas, so I am seeking to make the most of that time, and continue to enjoy life as it's lived here.
Here are some examples of ways in the last week or so that I have been challenged to value life:
Parties
Celebrations in Venezuela are a big deal, especially for birthdays. In the last week I have had the opportunity to attend two surprise birthday parties at the same house. It's a small home, with one bedroom, a kitchen area, and a living area. The living room is probably about the size of an average bedroom in the U.S. (not as big as a master bedroom), but it has about three couches and a small entertainment center in it. There were about fifteen of us at the parties, I think. We had popcorn and danced. Music is a big part of life here, but at the first party the electricity went out so we made our own. It made for a really special occasion, actually. We also had cake, of course, but here's it's served with Jell-O instead of ice cream. In the house live an older woman, her daughter, and the daughter's four children. One of them is a girl, and the other three are boys. All the boys have muscular dystrophy, and they recently lost an older fourth brother. It's rare to live past the age of twenty with this disease, so the future seems bleak for the other three, who continue to experience degeneration themselves. It's incredibly sad and tragic, yet, the family and neighbors are wonderfully loving in the way they include the boys in the activities. It's an odd experience, I imagine, to watch all three dying before your eyes. At the same time, I was struck by the fact that actually that's happening to all of us, just at a slower pace. I think it makes it easier to not think about death when it's not so obviously looming, but how would our lives be different if we did acknowledge it?
Violence
There is a lot of violence in the barrios. We are careful about not being out too late at night. We are almost always home in the early evening, and if we can't get home by 10pm we'll probably spend the night where we're at. Where we live is actually not too bad, especially because we benefit from the longevity of the team here, and the relationships they've formed. There are definitely people around who look out for us. In the barrio where we have been running the kids club, we have heard about violence since day one. Sometimes it's hard to overcome the fear of it when I go, and yet I know that my life is not any more valuable than one of the lives there, and fear is not from God. It also helps to know, for my own safety at least, that most of the violence is not random. As I've mentioned in previous posts, there is a strong sense of vengeance, so most violence is a response to a previous incident. This past Tuesday we were heading to the neighborhood for the afternoon kids club. Two motorcycles of police passed us, which I noticed. Though I've always been pretty observant, I think my time in Santa Ana has sharpened my observation skills regarding public safety. Anyway, a man on the street pointed them down in a certain direction. When we got near the area I saw a large crowd of people. At that point we turned down a street to go to the chapel where we hold the club. We were setting up when a young man we know came in and told us that someone had been shot. Shortly after that his aunt came and said that no mothers would be letting their kids go to the club that day, and that for our own safety we should leave. Before leaving we prayed for awhile in the chapel. At that point another of our contacts came and said it had been a fifteen year old boy that had been shot and killed. Apparently the boy had been threatening and shooting at other people, and for that reason other people had been hunting him for quite awhile. I guess they saw him riding on his motorcycle, and took advantage of the opportunity. Pondering the violence here has raised some interesting emotions for me. Having to think about it all the time in my work, and yet not having a close Christian community outside of work with whom to process, has meant that I've resorted to my own devices to deal with it. A result of this has been a sort of fatalistic callousness to the whole thing, where I'm not so touched by it. In a way I think you have to develop a tough skin to be able to move on, and yet the problem with this is that when you don't care as much anymore, you also don't care as much to try to stop it. I've lost some of my passion and compassion to seek peace because it's hard to continue to care that much. As a group we also talked about the different ways we all grieve in these situations, and I'm realizing that for myself, I need to be more intentional about my grieving process, and make sure it's something I don't deal with simply in my head, but that my heart is involved as well.
Sharing a Meal
This week I had the opportunity to go with our group to have dinner with a Venezuelan couple that we know. They have been loosely involved with some of InnerCHANGE's activities here for quite awhile. I've met them a few times already this summer, and really enjoy their company. The husband prepared a chicken curry with roti. His family is originally from Guyana, a neighboring country with a strong Indian influence. The food was absolutely amazing, but more so the company. The couple are two individuals that are great to talk with about all kinds of things. They are thoughtful and engaged, yet fun and humorous. Such times are moments I cherish even at home, and yet all the more so in a foreign country. Despite our cultural and language differences, we are still able to connect on a deep level because of our common faith and values. I was totally fed by that meal.
I only have two weeks left here in Caracas, so I am seeking to make the most of that time, and continue to enjoy life as it's lived here.
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