#OhPeru

[lewigm-blog]

A Year In...

Published February 23rd, 2020 

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”

When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. “In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written: “But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.” Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”                             - Matthew 2

Sometimes I feel that I can relate to the Pharaoh with his fears and anxieties regarding the newborn Jesus. I don’t know about everyone else, but I find the knowledge and awareness of Christ’s existence to be both terrifying and comforting. I know that there are plenty of things that I have done or thought that need forgiveness. His presence alone is enough to make me feel guilt and even shame. While I understand that we are constantly being forgiven because of His sacrifice, it doesn’t make owning up to those errors and flaws any easier. In fact, this makes me more resistant to the call to conversion and change at times.

“But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’ s heart and he would not listen to Moses and Aaron, just as the Lord had said to Moses.”                                                                                                               - Exodus 9:12

As strange as it sounds, I have found myself feeling less vulnerable one year into the JV-Peru experience than when I first arrived. I’m not directly saying that God has hardened my heart since coming to this land, as was the case with the Pharaoh during the time of Moses and the Exodus, but that I now find myself growing empathetic and sorry for this figure. I would like to imagine that, like most leaders, the pharaoh wanted the best for his people and that his intense desire and love for that mission was misguided and perverted slowly, little by little, without him even realizing the harm he was causing his people. By the time he realized how far it had gone, it was too late, but I suppose that this was the way it was supposed to play out for him. Perhaps this is an overly optimistic perspective on the Pharaoh, but who can know for sure?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nostalgic Swimming

During this Christmas season, I find myself in a similar boat as the pharaoh, or rather without a boat in the Red Sea. The transition of new and old volunteers ebbing and flowing through Andahuaylillas have begun to stir and blow away the dust from the corners of my heart that were dormant and unexplored for quite some time. I have also been thinking about what it means to prepare our hearts as a stable for Jesus. We recently had a Christmas reflection and prayer regarding this “preparation” this past Sunday, so this wasn’t a casual thought from me for those wondering.

It is currently 2:18AM on Christmas Eve and, after spending a full year as a volunteer, I have woken up with a desire to write about the preparation process of my own stable! I hope that I can somewhat describe my mini experience of metanoia or “change of heart.” At least, this is what I hope to experience regarding my frame of thinking, feeling and being for this next year.

Although this re-connection with myself and my emotions is difficult to describe, I can compare it to the feeling one has with the rediscovery of a childhood toy, film, or favorite song that makes one go “OOOOOOOHHHH MAN!! THIS IS MY ____”. It is this feeling that reunites us with old memories of tender love and nostalgia, but along with this can come traumatic emotions of fear and anxiety. Both are equally helpful to revisit from time to time as they are a part of the human experience, but this current visit has moved me, especially after being away from what was familiar for over a year now.

My current emotions are of sadness and frustration regarding the ways in which I have not yet fully immersed myself into my JV experience. These emotions have brought me back to my time in Nicaragua, and to the initial shock and awe experienced with those who were there. I remember this particularly with the children. Their ceaseless outpouring of love and affection seem to be more apparent during that time than with my daily encounters today with students in Andahuaylillas.

I wonder why I felt that these old feelings weren’t being translated or carried over into this new experience. How have I grown calloused to the injustices that I see on the street with alcoholism, violence, and child neglect? Why was simple living a seemingly achievable and reasonable concept then, when I rarely uphold that value consistently today? Where has my prayer life gone? Why do I find that community has not been helpful for engaging in this sort of discourse and keeping each other accountable? All these thoughts, or more aptly, these accusations hit harder and harder the more I reflected.

Then I began to think about my trip to Guatemala as a peer facilitator. I remembered feeling anger and frustration throughout that experience. I felt that I had failed my group because I did not meet them where they were. I was challenged by how the group wasn’t taking advantage of the experience, or at least to my liking. It was at this point, perhaps in the fogginess of the early Christmas Eve morning, in which I came to the realization that I was pushing some too hard.

I wanted to take people deeper into something they might not have been ready for. I hoped to push them somewhere in between awkwardness and un-comfortability, a hard tone to hit in any intercultural experience. I wanted others to move beyond the “lighter discomforts” of food, language, and culture shock so that they could move into questions and reflections on privilege, social inequality and access to resources among other things. I mean, what did they expect would happen? Everyone chose to be here, they chose to fundraise, and attend several of my country prep meetings to prepare! Weren’t we all expected to be open and dive into the experience? Well, the short answer is no, they were not!

Father Boyle mentions this sort of “measuring up” in Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion. He speaks about this limiting way of putting God in a box and the way that we often restrict ourselves and each other. In a lot of ways I believe that I was also disregarding and boxing people in rather than letting them surprise me with who they were and what they had to say.

I distinctly remember feeling dissatisfied by how the group talked about their experience and, without realizing it, dismissed their reflections. I thought about how they weren’t offering much on the trips. Their reflections never seemed to move beyond “surface level” discomforts (whatever that meant). Anything that wasn’t helpful to me was tossed aside, dismissed like many of the motivational posts seen on social media.

“In this place of which you say it is a waste… there will be heard again the voice of mirth and the voice of gladness,,. The voices of those who sing,”

  - Jeremiah 33: 9-11 (quoted from Father Greg Boyle’s Tattoos on the Heart)

Although personally what the group shared didn’t always seem profound or groundbreaking, it was for them! In their own way, they were attempting to grasp this new reality and were greatly affected by it. I too was experiencing great change by what I was experiencing in both Nicaragua and Guatemala, but it was just different. While I may have appreciated and invited moments of existential crisis and feelings of ineptitude and solidarity, they were out finding the joy in the lives of the children in other ways. Where I thought I had found waste, they found their fruit and enjoyed sharing their struggles and laughter together.

We all came from various backgrounds with different skills and interests. I was able to lean in a because I was familiar with their language and some of the cultural norms. They were doing their best to live (for some survive) with the constant rice and beans, the quick paced gab that is Central American Spanish, and the ways in which animals on the street were treated among other things. This newfound sense of community is what brought them closer and allowed for them to be there for one another.

One of the main factors that led to my own decision to become a volunteer internationally were the volunteers at the sites in Nicaragua. They received us warmly and openly. They helped guide our group closely and allowed us to grow deeper by listening to our needs individually and presenting both challenging and beautiful opportunities to connect with the culture, people and life in the community. In Nicaragua, Lucia and the three German volunteers saw the need for my friend Kyle Hill and I to participate more with the boys at the site, since they couldn’t connect as males with the boys. My way in was through sports and language which allowed me to relate to the boys and get them to open up. Similarly, in Guatemala, I connected with the workers through soccer as well. For others in my group, it was through afterschool homework help, dance and playing tag, something that I wasn’t necessarily apt or predisposed to.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rediscovering the “Why”

Ultimately these experiences were all things that I wanted to live out for my own. This is what I would be saying yes to when I was applying to the JVC program, but it was also one of the first things that I would forget after a few weeks of “adjustment” and observation in Peru. As time passed on, so did my patience and I had let my heart grow harsher and unwelcoming to those around me. It became a cold place that said “No!” adamantly to Jesus and his family many times over. It wasn’t obvious to me at first, but I found this to be the case after my first year with my JV community.

I wanted to dive deeper into the tumultuous waters of intense conversation and challenge with others but didn’t realize that in this exploration and desire to have others follow, I failed to show the kindness and love that I was shown as I became a stronger swimmer, so to speak. My desire and methods to “invite others” into the deep were intense and not always pastoral or even kind. It was actually traumatic for some! I had failed to recognize the gifts in others, the variety of ways in which others swam whether that be through the breaststroke, butterfly, doggy paddle, and their various distances! All should have been appreciated in their own way and I wish I had the trust in my group (and community) described in Teilhard de Chardin, S.J.’s prayer “Patient Trust.”

Why was I seeking to bring people deeper into the world by “offering” a challenge, when it should have been the other way around? This “new” and foreign world was already doing enough of that! It was others who were offering me the challenge of meeting them where they were, to walk with them at their pace to grow. In retrospect, it was ridiculous to think that I would serve as the impetus for their change. At the time however, I thought my intentions were pure and ideal for them to lean into the experience. And to be fair, my ideas and wishes for others were good willed and honest at first, but slowly I grew to feel “above others” as may have been the case with the pharaoh.

A recent conversation with a friend from one of my retreat experiences had me reflecting on my role as a volunteer and participant in these experiences. I have always appreciated ways in which retreats helped me to become more empathetic and active listener, but I felt that I wasn’t getting much out of it at a certain point. After 10 retreat experiences it can become a challenge to be… well, challenged (I would finish college with 15 total retreats)! My friend and I talked about how now that we are beyond the “freshman” perspective of retreats and were now in more of a grad student-facilitator mindset. Our roles shifted from being sharers, to listeners, being guided principally by the one sharing. That isn’t to say that our roles are now to be valued more or placed on a pedestal, but that based on our experiences we now prefer this new role as it is helping us grow. I may have already been through the wonderful experiences of Search, Kairos, and other retreat experiences, but I experience and view them now very differently.

This conversation helped me realize that the same thing is now happening to me in the international context. Although I had been on other immersion experiences, this was something completely different. My heart was becoming hardened and calloused after “training” and forming myself within the Ignatian tradition during my time at Scranton. While I have grown more aware of different techniques to engage with others, I have also failed to adapt to the new situations and began to lose myself in the international context. I shouldn’t be too hard on myself given that this is the first time I live outside of my home with 3 “Woo” girls away from friends and family (Click here for the reference).

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of the first year…

With all that said, I should probably describe some of the moments that I have experienced so that it might make more sense! The first moment comes from a fellow Cadis born Spanish volunteer who lived with us, Pablo Lobato. I was initially excited by the idea of having a male volunteer that was to stay with us for two years. However, once work started it became difficult to enjoy his company for a number of reasons. Having the same responsibilities at Fe y Alegria grew to be cumbersome with the amount of time we were spending with each other and when it came to organizing lesson plans that may not happen. Our states of mind and emotions influenced each other heavily. As you may remember from the previous newsletter, the challenge at Fe y Alegria was that there wasn’t a great deal of organization at the school and had I lost much interest and passion in the work. The same was true for Pablo. The situation affected Pablo so much that he was burnt out after a few months. It would lead to him ending his volunteer experience a year early.

Curiously enough, once Pablo made the decision to leave, things seemed to improve for him. He still had a few months to go and made the best of it. He joked around with folks from Fe y Alegria more and at his other worksite in Urcos. His openness and sense of humor brought him closer to those at work and even with others at the parish. He would often be out spending time with folks outside of our home and he really began to enjoy Andahuaylillas, even with its Oh Peru moments. Once December hit, the love and sadness expressed by everyone he knew was quite moving and made me think about how I would feel if I were leaving that year.

I realized that my own approach to developing relationships was perhaps a bit too cold. A few months in, I remembered pushing away a few of the local parish workers after having made plans to play soccer. I was angry because they had stood me up for over an hour on three separate occasions. So I (regretfully) called them out and told them that I wouldn’t go to anything they invited me to because it probably wouldn’t end up happening or would go on too late. In the moment, I thought that it would make clear that I don’t really abide by the “Peruvian Hour,” when it really only alienated me more than I already was as a gringo. My stable was becoming unwelcoming and standoffish, and its love, conditional. It is important to note that Peruvians and Latin Americans have an interesting concept of time. Time is a social construct where 30 minutes can mean an hour or two. This all seems to be universally understood amongst Peruvians, but it continues to frustrate me to this day.

A master of this concept and someone who helps me manage my struggle with punctuality is one of my closer friends in Andahuaylillas, Amilkar or Micky for short. He helps out at the parish and our mutual love for FC Barcelona has us meeting at least once a week to watch the game or play soccer at the Maracana turf field. We also play guitar at mass together whenever either of us can. Aside from that, we don’t spend too much of our time together discussing our personal lives. Since I play mostly on Sundays in the Temple, Micky is a part of the Saturday crew which included Pablo on the cajon or sound box. When the pastoral team at the parish and Pablo and I from Fe y Alegria had to come together to organize the kids’ First Communion I saw what the dynamics were like with Pablo and Micky.

They were constantly bagging on each other and Pablo seemed to be a much livelier person than I’d ever seen him. They would share in each other’s qualms about the lack of organization on both fronts and take joy in staying late after mass to chat about life. It was refreshing to see Pablo in this light. Once we had finished coordinating the First Communion, which took place on December 8th, we had a plethora of despedidas or going away parties. Given that 4 volunteers were leaving Mountain house, there were no shortage of cakes, meals and tears. It was quite a beautiful thing to witness and it all came to a culmination when we celebrated our final misa together.

El Estadio de Maracana de Andahuaylillas. Quite arguably, my favorite turf field with a view of the Coriorco Mountain

The Weekend Crew

So happy to have finished with Primera Comunion. It was a tough and beautiful year indeed

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Final Misa

With it being Christmas time, a number of masses had already been “booked” by other groups leaving me without a clear role at mass. It was nice to not have to play and to participate in a different way. I was able to immerse myself more fully and reconnected with my old self that wasn’t being brought out. All my motions had purpose, the readings were clear, and I felt connected with the church. Ever since I began to lead the chorus on Sundays, I have been focusing more on playing the songs well instead of listening to what the songs were saying and what the readings were for the day. I used to always find solace and a “lighter” sense of myself when at mass. When our inchoate chorus sung without confidence early on, I began to lose this magical feeling at mass.

I think my failure to pray and reflect WITH God instead of just going through the motions was affecting me greatly. Once this responsibility was lifted temporarily, I enjoyed mass once more. This is, of course, all in retrospect and doesn’t include the misas at home, which were also scarce due to Padre Gonzalo’s limited availability. I don’t know if any of you reading this have had a similar experience at mass, but I am looking for ways to stay intentional and focused during mass (so please share!). It’s challenging when playing for a folks who should believe that all voices singing to God are beautiful. This is not always the case though!

As per usual, the initial impetus comes from the Misa that was celebrated this past week. It was our last misa with a majority of the house, whom we had spent the past year or so with but also the first Misa experience for the new volunteers. It wasn’t so much the scripture readings that affected me, but the fact that this was the last misa we would celebrate as Mountain House 2019! Even with all the frustration that I had experienced the past year, there was a lot of joy and fun too. It all hit me at once when Pablo admitted that he would miss us all dearly and alluded to his regret in his decision to leave. It was a touching moment that was only made worse by my slowing down of the ofertorio song Tomad Señor y Recibid (which is Saint Ignatius’ Suscipe Prayer).

The question now is “What now?” This, like all reflections, means nothing if these “airy “topics and subjects are not made incarnado or made flesh/incarnate. St. Ignatius does ask us to be contemplatives in action after all! After a long pattern of closing up my heart and stable from others, I have begun re-open up shop. It’ll take time, but I hope that with the arrival of the new community we can start fresh and find our rhythm early on! Can’t wait to MAGA it up for 2020! Here’s to Making Andahuaylillas Great Again!

Google Photos Link: https://photos.app.goo.gl/3hbgZLo3USHxDDU57

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Heaven only knows”

As a random or connected note, these thoughts and reflections come at a time when I realized that many of the songs that I had once cherished and appreciated as a child, mostly from my beloved first CD “album” Now That What I Call Music 19, released in 2005. I was thinking about John Legend’s Heaven and when I went to search for it in my files, there was no trace of it anywhere! I went to search for Ordinary and could not find that or several other songs from that time period. I was most upset to find that all things Coldplay were absent. Speed of Sound really helped kickstart my passion and love for music during my VH1 viewing days.

I mention this because music was what really helped me capture the moment in a sort of time capsule. It inspired and reaffirmed me during difficult lulls and times of change and transition. It is a categorized portal into my life, especially the ways in which I organize my own music.

Exhibit A: 2017 was certainly a coming of age year for me…I don’t know what every hashtag means, but some things definitely stand out for me.

           I hope that this rediscovery of old music will also motivate me to begin the new year with some chispa and passion. Perhaps this new year and community can be an opportunity for me to take advantage of what Peru has to offer. I wish for more openness with the Oh Peru moments, less judgement and heart hardening moment and enough discipline to actually read and write often. So I bid 2019 farewell with a few lyrics from John Legend’s Heaven. Cheers to second chances and to this next year!  

So will you come back to me?

Make this night the best night It's time for second chance Turn the beat up on repeat, and we can start to dance…

Heaven only knows

Our final Tiny Airport (Desk) Concert was pretty awesome

They are definitely smarter, taller and more hilarious a year later. I miss them so much!