I read a quote once: "You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you, there is more of God." That quote would pretty well sum up this last week or two of teaching. We've now been in school for almost 5 months and the mid year, 2-week break is coming up after the end of next week. I think it's time. I think the kids think it's time too.
The last few weeks, I have come to the end of my rope. I have discovered that in myself, I don't have the patience I need to be a teacher. I have discovered that in myself I don't have the love for my students that I need to have. They do things. They bug me. They get under my skin. And then...well, let's just say teaching's not quite as fun then. But in this discovery, I've also discovered something else. God does have the grace and patience, love and creativity that I need in order to work with my kids. When mine is all spent, I can rely on His. And it seems the more spent mine is, the more His kicks in.
Take Tuesday for example. Monday and Tuesday were not very good days with third grade, especially. I was trying to be patient. I was trying to be loving. But it's hard when you feel like you're talking to yourself because no one else is listening. And then to top it all of, on Tuesday, right before leaving to come home, I realized that two boxes of crayons were missing from my desk. That did it. I came home furious.
"God," I complained, "I work and work. I spend so much time planning and thinking and trying to come up with creative ideas to work with these kids. And it's like they throw it back in my face. I make stuff and it gets destroyed. God, this isn't fair!" And then, ever so gently, He reminded me that, hmmmm......sometimes I do the very same thing to Him. And how does He respond versus how I tend to respond? And then, He gave me His presence and peace. The next morning, I arrived at school still quite upset and not quite sure I was ready to face a room full of 20 third graders. And again, God was faithful to take over where my rope ended. As I stood before 20 wiggly 7 and 8 year olds, God gave me this incredible calm and lack of frustration. I was able to explain to them what had happened and how we wouldn't be able to work on a specific project until the crayons were found and returned to my desk. And you know, they stopped being wiggly third graders and they paid attention! That was the turning point for the week so far in my interactions with third grade.
Wednesday came and went an there were no crayons revealed. I was wondering if they would in fact show up in the end. But lo and behold, Miriam found the last 5 crayons this afternoon in a box of papers and things.
Throughout the last couple of weeks, God has made it apparently clear in many situations that I need to rely on Him instead of my own strength. I don't have what it takes to be an amazing teacher and to reach students. But, as He keeps reminding me, He does have the strength, grace and peace that I need and that He will only give it to me if I ask.
So maybe I am at the end of my rope. But I've been so blessed by receiving from God the last few weeks. Not that I want third grade to be bad just so I can receive more from God...heaven forbid!) But I've been finding God to be incredibly faithful in the midst of all that's going on. I've realized how much I need to lean on Him and trust Him.
Paul said something similar in 2 Cor. 12.9, where God says to him, "My grace is sufficuent for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness". It's my life verse and I think it's becoming more and more so the longer I live and the more times I can feel God's presence with me when I'm clinging for all I'm worth to the very end of my rope. We truly serve an amazing God!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Manuela´s Miracle
I guess you could call it a miracle. You may remember the other week, I shared about Manuela and Valentin, two older members of my church in Huacarpay. They had gotten married, but they had to push up their wedding a week because Manuela was not doing well and no one was sure how much time she had left.
Well, Manuela is still very much alive. And what´s more, she´s getting better! Manuela has cancer. From what I understand, it started in her eye. But it´s spread throughout her whole body now. The doctors say there´s really nothing they can do for her. So she´s living with cancer. For a long time now, her face has been covered with ugly scabby wounds, supposedly from the cancer. And she has a quite large wound in her eye where she has the cancer. It is always covered with a clean gauze pad, thanks to several of the women from the church. The last few weeks, the wounds on her face have actually been getting better and the scabs have been falling off! Her skin is, in the words of Ines, the pastor´s wife, like a baby´s. And indeed, when I saw her this morning, she looked much better. Someone quoted her husband as saying, "She´s getting pretty!".
And that´s not all. After church, some of us were discussing it again and someone said that now she can actually see out of her bad eye and that apparently it´s getting better, or at least better than it had been. Someone said this morning that Manuela said the other day that now she really believes in the power of God because she´s seeing it first hand.
It´s been exciting to see Manuela´s miracle and to know that God is reaching down to her tiny house in her tiny village in the middle of Peru and is touching her body and bringing restoration to her. What an amazing Father!
Well, Manuela is still very much alive. And what´s more, she´s getting better! Manuela has cancer. From what I understand, it started in her eye. But it´s spread throughout her whole body now. The doctors say there´s really nothing they can do for her. So she´s living with cancer. For a long time now, her face has been covered with ugly scabby wounds, supposedly from the cancer. And she has a quite large wound in her eye where she has the cancer. It is always covered with a clean gauze pad, thanks to several of the women from the church. The last few weeks, the wounds on her face have actually been getting better and the scabs have been falling off! Her skin is, in the words of Ines, the pastor´s wife, like a baby´s. And indeed, when I saw her this morning, she looked much better. Someone quoted her husband as saying, "She´s getting pretty!".
And that´s not all. After church, some of us were discussing it again and someone said that now she can actually see out of her bad eye and that apparently it´s getting better, or at least better than it had been. Someone said this morning that Manuela said the other day that now she really believes in the power of God because she´s seeing it first hand.
It´s been exciting to see Manuela´s miracle and to know that God is reaching down to her tiny house in her tiny village in the middle of Peru and is touching her body and bringing restoration to her. What an amazing Father!
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Life as normal
I've often wondered what normal is. I've begun to think it's a social construct. Normal depends on where you are and what society around you says. Often I think "Oh, there's not much to write about. Life is going on as normal". And then I realize that normal here is different from normal in the States. So I thought I'd write about normal life here in Peru to give you an idea of what normal is like for me these days. Peru is a relationship-oriented culture, which means that spending time with people occupies a lot of my days. Often these times with friends happen very spontaneously, thus inciting the comment from John Kreider, a fellow missionary, that here in Peru, things are set in Jello, as opposed to cement.
Case in point, I began this blog entry this morning, then received a call from one of my friends inviting me to go play racquetball with her and some other friends. Since today was a transportation strike, I walked for an hour and a half to get there, then wandered around being lost until I found them and played racquetball for about an hour before having to head home for a missionary team meeting. Now it's evening and I'm still updating my blog. :)
If you'd look at my proposed agenda in my head at the beginning of the week, it would look very different from what actually happens by the end of the week. A typical day in my mental agenda looks like this: wake up, go to school, come home from school, spend time with Marga doing what needs to be done around the house, work on schoolwork, go to bed. However, a typical day generally actually goes somewhat more like this: wake up, go to school, at school learn that someone wants to do something together in the afternoon or needs help with English, come home from school, do something with someone, do a little schoolwork, go to bed.
But there are many blessings that come with being a part of such a culture. Sometimes these times of spending time with people doing whatever we're doing are the best times to really get to know someone and/or make memories. The other week, I came home from school and Marga asked me to help her make wedding cakes for a wedding that was to be the next day. Valeria, who was supposed to make the cakes, had to travel, so she had asked Marga to make the cakes. Valeria has a large wood-fueled oven in her house, so we could bake them all at once and do it very quickly. So we went to Valeria's house, where we met up with about 4 other people. Working together, we mixed up 10 large cakes in a very short amount of time. Then we stuck them in the oven. 5 minutes later we quickly took them out of the oven because the oven was way too hot and the tops burned black in the short amount of time that they were in there. We covered them with wet pieces of paper and finished baking them. As they came out of the oven and cooled, Frida cut the burned parts of them off with a knife. They turned out fine! But it was definitely a bonding experience for all of us. We had lots of laughs trying to figure out how to fix our problem and what we were going to tell Valeria.
And then there was the conversation I had with Marisol the other week, walking from school to where she needed to get a combi to go home. We were able to share from the heart as we walked along, eating popsicles. It was totally a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment thing, but it was so great! Another day the same week, Marisol asked me for help with English, so we went downtown and ate pizza, then spent a while working on English. She also decided she wanted to get her hair cut, so the next evening we went downtown again and spent time at our friend Norma's styling salon.
And then Juana calls sometimes wanting help with English homework. So she'll come over and we'll spend more time talking and catching up with where each other's at and what's going on than actually working on English.
When I'm in Huacarpay the same phenomenon happens. I have yet to get out to Huacarpay and right off the bat have worship team practice. I doubt it will ever happen. I usually get there and no one's at the church. So I walk down to Rene's house, where something is always going on. This past week I got there only to find her in the midst of making her son's birthday lunch for the next day (which I had no idea about but ended up going to). Once that was finished, then we had worship team practice. And then I usually go back to Pastor Celestino and Ines's house and crash there for the night, spending time with their family.
Living life relationally is very different from living life in a planned, structured way. Sometimes I wish I'd have more time to work on schoolwork. But then I think about all I'd miss out on if my mental agenda looked more like my actual agenda. And then I decide I'm really actually glad that I live in this new kind of normal, where people come first and relationships are forged in the midst of these spontaneous times of togetherness. It's a blessing and the energy I pour out is more than replaced by the energy generated by friendship and fellowship.
So when I say my life is normal, what I really mean to say is that I am forging relationships in the midst of this culture and feeling very blessed to have the opportunity to do so.
Case in point, I began this blog entry this morning, then received a call from one of my friends inviting me to go play racquetball with her and some other friends. Since today was a transportation strike, I walked for an hour and a half to get there, then wandered around being lost until I found them and played racquetball for about an hour before having to head home for a missionary team meeting. Now it's evening and I'm still updating my blog. :)
If you'd look at my proposed agenda in my head at the beginning of the week, it would look very different from what actually happens by the end of the week. A typical day in my mental agenda looks like this: wake up, go to school, come home from school, spend time with Marga doing what needs to be done around the house, work on schoolwork, go to bed. However, a typical day generally actually goes somewhat more like this: wake up, go to school, at school learn that someone wants to do something together in the afternoon or needs help with English, come home from school, do something with someone, do a little schoolwork, go to bed.
But there are many blessings that come with being a part of such a culture. Sometimes these times of spending time with people doing whatever we're doing are the best times to really get to know someone and/or make memories. The other week, I came home from school and Marga asked me to help her make wedding cakes for a wedding that was to be the next day. Valeria, who was supposed to make the cakes, had to travel, so she had asked Marga to make the cakes. Valeria has a large wood-fueled oven in her house, so we could bake them all at once and do it very quickly. So we went to Valeria's house, where we met up with about 4 other people. Working together, we mixed up 10 large cakes in a very short amount of time. Then we stuck them in the oven. 5 minutes later we quickly took them out of the oven because the oven was way too hot and the tops burned black in the short amount of time that they were in there. We covered them with wet pieces of paper and finished baking them. As they came out of the oven and cooled, Frida cut the burned parts of them off with a knife. They turned out fine! But it was definitely a bonding experience for all of us. We had lots of laughs trying to figure out how to fix our problem and what we were going to tell Valeria.
And then there was the conversation I had with Marisol the other week, walking from school to where she needed to get a combi to go home. We were able to share from the heart as we walked along, eating popsicles. It was totally a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment thing, but it was so great! Another day the same week, Marisol asked me for help with English, so we went downtown and ate pizza, then spent a while working on English. She also decided she wanted to get her hair cut, so the next evening we went downtown again and spent time at our friend Norma's styling salon.
And then Juana calls sometimes wanting help with English homework. So she'll come over and we'll spend more time talking and catching up with where each other's at and what's going on than actually working on English.
When I'm in Huacarpay the same phenomenon happens. I have yet to get out to Huacarpay and right off the bat have worship team practice. I doubt it will ever happen. I usually get there and no one's at the church. So I walk down to Rene's house, where something is always going on. This past week I got there only to find her in the midst of making her son's birthday lunch for the next day (which I had no idea about but ended up going to). Once that was finished, then we had worship team practice. And then I usually go back to Pastor Celestino and Ines's house and crash there for the night, spending time with their family.
Living life relationally is very different from living life in a planned, structured way. Sometimes I wish I'd have more time to work on schoolwork. But then I think about all I'd miss out on if my mental agenda looked more like my actual agenda. And then I decide I'm really actually glad that I live in this new kind of normal, where people come first and relationships are forged in the midst of these spontaneous times of togetherness. It's a blessing and the energy I pour out is more than replaced by the energy generated by friendship and fellowship.
So when I say my life is normal, what I really mean to say is that I am forging relationships in the midst of this culture and feeling very blessed to have the opportunity to do so.
Monday, July 7, 2008
There will be great rejoicing...
She walked up to the front of the church. A tiny country church trying to bridge the changing cultures of the Andes and modern Western culture, a mixture of young people in jeans who speak mostly Spanish and older people in more Andean styles who speak more Quechua. I know her. I danced with her at the church service. Her name is Gabriela. It surprises me to see her here, now. Humbly, brokenly, she announced her desire to accept Jesus into her heart. With tears streaming down her cheeks and her voice catching in her throat, she prayed, standing up front with Pastor Celestino and his wife Ines. And Jesus came. Just like the song we sang in Quechua earlier in the morning, which Ines translated roughly for me: "As he was going to the cross, Jesus said to me, 'I'm dying so that you don't have to'". Joy filled my heart as I listened to her pray and as I felt the Holy Spirit's presence there. As Gabriela prayed, another woman came down the aisle. Gently supported by two others, she came, clutching a crutch, limping badly. Juana, sitting beside me, explained that this woman was pregnant and didn't take care of herself. About a month ago, she gave birth and hasn't been well since. A chair was brought and she sat at the front of the church, expressing the same desires as Gabriela. The church extended hands of blessing and healing over her. As I was praying for her, I was reminded of the story of the healing of the paralytic from Mark 2. It was preached about several times recently and what stuck out to me was Jesus' question: "Which is more difficult: to say 'Your sins are forgiven' or to say 'Take up your bed and walk'?" For us as humans, both are equally difficult. However, for God, both are equally possible. I would have loved to see her be healed physically. That didn't happen, but she went away from church yesterday with a far greater healing. She was healed spiritually. God must have a greater plan...
All I know is that, slowly but surely, the kingdom of God is expanding in Peru and God is bringing precious souls into His kingdom, for His glory and for the praise of His name.
All I know is that, slowly but surely, the kingdom of God is expanding in Peru and God is bringing precious souls into His kingdom, for His glory and for the praise of His name.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
My weekend in Huacarpay
After praying about how I could get involved with my church in Huacarpay and talking with some others, I decided to get involved in the worship ministry. Because of the dance and other things that I was involved in, I haven't been able to begin my ministry with them until this weekend. And what a weekend it was. Because Huacarpay is a relatively good distance from my house and it's not necessarily safe for me to travel by myself back home at night, a trip to Huacarpay at any time after about 5 PM usually involves staying overnight there. This trip did.
Worship team practice starts at 6 PM on Saturday night. So around 5:15 I left my house with backpack and violin in tow, ready to spend the weekend out in Huacarpay. I got on a bus that completely freaked me out, because it was just me and the driver the entire way (20 minutes or so from my house) out to Huacarpay. Normally, the bus is quite full (to say the least) and there is, in addition to the driver, a cobrador who collects the bus fares from everyone. I was praying quite fervently and singing worship songs to calm my nerves. I also had the sense that someone was praying for me right then too. If someone was impressed to pray for me at around 6:30 PA time on June 14th, I'd love to know about it. Honestly, the driver could have done anything, if he'd have had a mind to. I definitely felt the presence of God on that trip.
After an uneventful, though unnerving trip out to Huacarpay, I arrived at church 10 minutes early, only to find that I was the only one there. So I walked down the street to Hermana Rene´s house (who is also on the worship team). Practice ended up happening around her table around 8:00, after a yummy supper and some good fellowship time.
Sunday morning I got to play with the worship team for the first time. It was a blessing to be up there with the rest of the team, praising God in Spanish, Quechua and violin. I was blessed also to have the privilege of seeing the miraculous and beautiful, if simple, wedding of Valentin and Manuela.
Valentin and Manuela are two older people - probably in their seventies. They are very poor and have quite an interesting story. They, as many people do here, have been living together without being married for years and years. Manuela was diagnosed several years ago with cancer and it has spread through her body. It´s just a matter of time, the doctors say. She has cancer in her eye as well and wears a patch over the eye. The church has a strong health program in Huacarpay and a health representative from the church has been working with her for about 2 years now, changing the eye patch. Through the witness of the church and the health representative, Manuela has come to know Jesus. At the beginning of this year Valentin, who used to be a witch, got some kind of infection in his foot, which spread to his leg and became infected to the bone. My friend Juana, who´s a nurse and the director of the Mennonite church health program, worked with him and gradually, miraculously, his leg was healed to the point where he can now walk on it and the wound is very small. Through the witness of Juana and another woman from the church, Valentin also came to know Jesus and dedicated his life to Jesus during a worship service this March. Last weekend he was baptized and he and Manuela expressed a desire to follow through with Jesus´commands and be married. The wedding was scheduled for this coming Sunday. However, last week, Manuela was very bad and in a lot of pain from the cancer. It was decided that it would be a good idea for them to get married now, before her mind succumbs to the influence of the cancer and she loses her rational powers. So on Sunday, as part of the worship service, Valentin and Manuela became husband and wife in a ceremony that lasted all of about 3 minutes and was entirely in Quechua (translated: I hardly understood any of it). Now Manuela and Valentin are ready to meet Jesus, thanks to the witness of the church in Huacarpay. It was the most simple and unpretentious wedding I have ever been to, but also one of the most beautiful. Which just goes to show that God truly does make all things beautiful in His time and through His servants.
Worship team practice starts at 6 PM on Saturday night. So around 5:15 I left my house with backpack and violin in tow, ready to spend the weekend out in Huacarpay. I got on a bus that completely freaked me out, because it was just me and the driver the entire way (20 minutes or so from my house) out to Huacarpay. Normally, the bus is quite full (to say the least) and there is, in addition to the driver, a cobrador who collects the bus fares from everyone. I was praying quite fervently and singing worship songs to calm my nerves. I also had the sense that someone was praying for me right then too. If someone was impressed to pray for me at around 6:30 PA time on June 14th, I'd love to know about it. Honestly, the driver could have done anything, if he'd have had a mind to. I definitely felt the presence of God on that trip.
After an uneventful, though unnerving trip out to Huacarpay, I arrived at church 10 minutes early, only to find that I was the only one there. So I walked down the street to Hermana Rene´s house (who is also on the worship team). Practice ended up happening around her table around 8:00, after a yummy supper and some good fellowship time.
Sunday morning I got to play with the worship team for the first time. It was a blessing to be up there with the rest of the team, praising God in Spanish, Quechua and violin. I was blessed also to have the privilege of seeing the miraculous and beautiful, if simple, wedding of Valentin and Manuela.
Valentin and Manuela are two older people - probably in their seventies. They are very poor and have quite an interesting story. They, as many people do here, have been living together without being married for years and years. Manuela was diagnosed several years ago with cancer and it has spread through her body. It´s just a matter of time, the doctors say. She has cancer in her eye as well and wears a patch over the eye. The church has a strong health program in Huacarpay and a health representative from the church has been working with her for about 2 years now, changing the eye patch. Through the witness of the church and the health representative, Manuela has come to know Jesus. At the beginning of this year Valentin, who used to be a witch, got some kind of infection in his foot, which spread to his leg and became infected to the bone. My friend Juana, who´s a nurse and the director of the Mennonite church health program, worked with him and gradually, miraculously, his leg was healed to the point where he can now walk on it and the wound is very small. Through the witness of Juana and another woman from the church, Valentin also came to know Jesus and dedicated his life to Jesus during a worship service this March. Last weekend he was baptized and he and Manuela expressed a desire to follow through with Jesus´commands and be married. The wedding was scheduled for this coming Sunday. However, last week, Manuela was very bad and in a lot of pain from the cancer. It was decided that it would be a good idea for them to get married now, before her mind succumbs to the influence of the cancer and she loses her rational powers. So on Sunday, as part of the worship service, Valentin and Manuela became husband and wife in a ceremony that lasted all of about 3 minutes and was entirely in Quechua (translated: I hardly understood any of it). Now Manuela and Valentin are ready to meet Jesus, thanks to the witness of the church in Huacarpay. It was the most simple and unpretentious wedding I have ever been to, but also one of the most beautiful. Which just goes to show that God truly does make all things beautiful in His time and through His servants.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
I like to eat pizza
This has been quite a popular phrase in fourth grade English class the last few weeks. It all started when I asked the question "What do you like to do?" We made a whole list of things on the board - swim, dance, sing, go on trips, fly...
And then André said it: "I like to eat pizza".
Innocent enough. Simple enough. But I had no idea how those 5 words would define the next few weeks of English class. After that, things were never the same. Every day, someone would ask me "When can we make pizza in English class?" Sara said it. Ronaldo said it. Josua said it. No doubt about it - my fourth graders were going to mutiny if I denied them the opportunity to make pizza in English class. We were coming to the end of the current unit. "Maybe next month", I told them. "Maybe isn't good enough", Josua informed me. "What do you like to do", I asked on the English test. "I like is eat pizza", Sara wrote in response. I laughed out loud while grading the test, beginning to feel like the unjust judge, plagued by the widow who just would not let him alone until he did what she was asking him to do! :) (Luke 18)
And then I found it. My lifesaver! The next unit I had planned was on ancient history, focusing on Rome and Egypt. Beautifully, wonderfully, Rome happens to be in Italy, which happens to be the birthplace of pizza. As I was looking through the teacher's manual, I realized there was even a lesson on food likes, dislikes and preferences! I came to class armed with the good news. And we finally decided on a date. Tuesday, June 3 was going to be Pizza Day. Then they stopped asking and waited in eager anticipation. At last, the day came. I came to school with a market bag full of pizza supplies - bread, sauce, cheese, mushrooms, sausages, mayonnaise. Mayonnaise? On pizza? Oh yes, Peruvians are very fond of mayonnaise and I do believe that every single pizza (except for mine) had mayonnaise on it. That was Aarón's suggestion. Someone else suggested sausages (salchichas). I burst out laughing when Ada Sol, in a voice pregnant with deep longing, crooned "Ah...salchiiiichas...". They went in my bag too. Armed and ready, I entered fourth grade. The excitement level in that classroom that day was extraordinarily high. I was thankful that Dawn Weaver, one of my friends, who also happened to be a missionary in Peru for three years and the English teacher for this class last year, was visiting and offered to help out that day as well. There are three groups of four and one single desk in the classroom. So I invited them to come up three at a time, while the rest of the students looked at English and bilingual books I pulled from the school library. I was determined to make this an educational experience as well, so we focused on several phrases: "What would you like?" "Would you like __?", "I would like ___.", "Yes, please." and "No, thank you." The kids only speak English if they absolutely have to (I'm trying to change that one), but they did pretty well with it. At the end of the class there were 12 very happy students (one was absent, unfortunately) and lots of little pizzas (2 for everyone) ready to go into the church's oven downstairs.
The students still had to sit through two more 45-minute blocks of classes before recess, when they could finally eat their pizzas. When Dawn and I came up during recess with four trays of pizzas, we were met with many excited fourth graders who couldn't wait to eat their pizzas (after all, they'd been waiting for about three weeks for this). Lots of them even wanted to take one home to show and share with their families. The kids did amazingly well and the entire day was a great success. It was a wonderful bonding experience and I think I enjoyed it as much as they did! :) I grabbed some pictures. Enjoy! Provecho! (Spanish for "enjoy your food").
In order, the pictures are as follows:
Josua, André and Sara making pizzas
Miss Nancy (the fourth grade teacher), Nurieth and Ronaldo making pizzas.
One tray of pizzas ready to go into the oven (the white stringy stuff is the mayonnaise)
Crhisnna, Magna, Ada Sol and Alicia eating pizza
Josua, Sara and André eating pizza
If you'd like to see more pictures, I have some on faceb
ook. Click here to see them.
And then André said it: "I like to eat pizza".
Innocent enough. Simple enough. But I had no idea how those 5 words would define the next few weeks of English class. After that, things were never the same. Every day, someone would ask me "When can we make pizza in English class?" Sara said it. Ronaldo said it. Josua said it. No doubt about it - my fourth graders were going to mutiny if I denied them the opportunity to make pizza in English class. We were coming to the end of the current unit. "Maybe next month", I told them. "Maybe isn't good enough", Josua informed me. "What do you like to do", I asked on the English test. "I like is eat pizza", Sara wrote in response. I laughed out loud while grading the test, beginning to feel like the unjust judge, plagued by the widow who just would not let him alone until he did what she was asking him to do! :) (Luke 18)
And then I found it. My lifesaver! The next unit I had planned was on ancient history, focusing on Rome and Egypt. Beautifully, wonderfully, Rome happens to be in Italy, which happens to be the birthplace of pizza. As I was looking through the teacher's manual, I realized there was even a lesson on food likes, dislikes and preferences! I came to class armed with the good news. And we finally decided on a date. Tuesday, June 3 was going to be Pizza Day. Then they stopped asking and waited in eager anticipation. At last, the day came. I came to school with a market bag full of pizza supplies - bread, sauce, cheese, mushrooms, sausages, mayonnaise. Mayonnaise? On pizza? Oh yes, Peruvians are very fond of mayonnaise and I do believe that every single pizza (except for mine) had mayonnaise on it. That was Aarón's suggestion. Someone else suggested sausages (salchichas). I burst out laughing when Ada Sol, in a voice pregnant with deep longing, crooned "Ah...salchiiiichas...". They went in my bag too. Armed and ready, I entered fourth grade. The excitement level in that classroom that day was extraordinarily high. I was thankful that Dawn Weaver, one of my friends, who also happened to be a missionary in Peru for three years and the English teacher for this class last year, was visiting and offered to help out that day as well. There are three groups of four and one single desk in the classroom. So I invited them to come up three at a time, while the rest of the students looked at English and bilingual books I pulled from the school library. I was determined to make this an educational experience as well, so we focused on several phrases: "What would you like?" "Would you like __?", "I would like ___.", "Yes, please." and "No, thank you." The kids only speak English if they absolutely have to (I'm trying to change that one), but they did pretty well with it. At the end of the class there were 12 very happy students (one was absent, unfortunately) and lots of little pizzas (2 for everyone) ready to go into the church's oven downstairs.
The students still had to sit through two more 45-minute blocks of classes before recess, when they could finally eat their pizzas. When Dawn and I came up during recess with four trays of pizzas, we were met with many excited fourth graders who couldn't wait to eat their pizzas (after all, they'd been waiting for about three weeks for this). Lots of them even wanted to take one home to show and share with their families. The kids did amazingly well and the entire day was a great success. It was a wonderful bonding experience and I think I enjoyed it as much as they did! :) I grabbed some pictures. Enjoy! Provecho! (Spanish for "enjoy your food").
In order, the pictures are as follows:
Josua, André and Sara making pizzas
Miss Nancy (the fourth grade teacher), Nurieth and Ronaldo making pizzas.
One tray of pizzas ready to go into the oven (the white stringy stuff is the mayonnaise)
Crhisnna, Magna, Ada Sol and Alicia eating pizza
Josua, Sara and André eating pizza
If you'd like to see more pictures, I have some on faceb
ook. Click here to see them.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Why Bears Hibernate
I now understand why bears feel the need to hibernate in the wintertime. It doesn't sound like such a bad idea in the mornings, when the temperature under the three blankets on my bed is considerably different than the temperature of the air that hits my nose as it peeks out from under said blankets. Winter is its own culture here. I don't know how many times over the past few weeks I've heard someone say "Qué frío está haciendo!" (It's so cold!) I learned this week that there is even a mandatory special school schedule here during winter. Beginning this coming Monday, classes at PROMESA will begin at 8:20 instead of 8:00. Judging by the fact that many fewer school children are riding the combis in the morning as I am heading to school, I am guessing that most of the schools in Cusco have already begun their winter schedule. The extra 20 minutes is designed to allow children to not get up quite so early, so the air has a bit more time to warm up before they need to expose their little bodies to it and get ready for school. Since every good Peruvian knows that if your body gets cold, you will get some sort of cold or flu or your stomach will hurt or something, keeping warm is an absolute must.
Much to the surprise of every Peruvian to whom I tell this, winter here actually doesn't get as cold as winter in Pennsylvania. It's usually in the 30s when I wake up in the mornings. However, due to the fact that indoor heating is nonexistent here, the temperature inside when the sun is not out is usually somewhere around 50-55 degrees. During the day, however, it is quite warm in the sun - at least 70s. A fellow missionary remarked the other week that she now knows, after having lived in Cusco in the winter, why the Incans worshipped the sun. It feels so good when it comes out!
I have discovered something else. Sheep have the right idea. Fleece is great stuff! Granted, the fleece I love is material, not sheepskin, but it's still the same concept... Last night as I slid beneath my fleece sheets (they are a wonderful blessing!), the thought suddenly flitted through my mind that, like the Bible says that we are going from glory to glory, I am going from fleece to fleece. I lay in bed between fleece sheets in the morning, escape from the sheets to the warmth of a fleece top, which I usually wear over my other layers for half the morning or so, till I warm up enough to take it off and just go about with the 2 layers I wear underneath it. At night, the fleece top goes back on (sometimes plus another) and the bottom half of me gets wrapped in a fleece blanket, like the Peruvians do. As soon as I take my fleece off and change into my pajamas, I slip back beneath the fleece sheets and drift off to sleep...
Thank you God for the blessings of winter in Cusco...a warm bed, warm clothing, hot drinks, warm hugs, friends and family here who are constantly making sure I bundle up and keep warm, and 20 extra minutes to sleep in the morning starting on Monday!
Much to the surprise of every Peruvian to whom I tell this, winter here actually doesn't get as cold as winter in Pennsylvania. It's usually in the 30s when I wake up in the mornings. However, due to the fact that indoor heating is nonexistent here, the temperature inside when the sun is not out is usually somewhere around 50-55 degrees. During the day, however, it is quite warm in the sun - at least 70s. A fellow missionary remarked the other week that she now knows, after having lived in Cusco in the winter, why the Incans worshipped the sun. It feels so good when it comes out!
I have discovered something else. Sheep have the right idea. Fleece is great stuff! Granted, the fleece I love is material, not sheepskin, but it's still the same concept... Last night as I slid beneath my fleece sheets (they are a wonderful blessing!), the thought suddenly flitted through my mind that, like the Bible says that we are going from glory to glory, I am going from fleece to fleece. I lay in bed between fleece sheets in the morning, escape from the sheets to the warmth of a fleece top, which I usually wear over my other layers for half the morning or so, till I warm up enough to take it off and just go about with the 2 layers I wear underneath it. At night, the fleece top goes back on (sometimes plus another) and the bottom half of me gets wrapped in a fleece blanket, like the Peruvians do. As soon as I take my fleece off and change into my pajamas, I slip back beneath the fleece sheets and drift off to sleep...
Thank you God for the blessings of winter in Cusco...a warm bed, warm clothing, hot drinks, warm hugs, friends and family here who are constantly making sure I bundle up and keep warm, and 20 extra minutes to sleep in the morning starting on Monday!
Culto Unido
It has now been a month since you've read an update on my life from this venue. It's been a busy month of teaching, dancing and planning for teaching. This past weekend (June 1) was the annual culto unido of the Mennonite church in Peru. Every year, as many people as can come from all the churches meet in one place, bringing with them their food, culture, and a desire to worship God. 
It is a beautiful day, a tiny foretaste
of "there before me was a multitude of people from every nation, tribe, and tongue standing before the throne (of God)". Each church is requested to bring a special number (dance, worship, skit, etc) to share with everyone. It's a day I always enjoy and look forward to. This year, it was fun to see a number of my students at the service. In the picture are Lucero, Bethany, Alejandra, Diana and Diana's little brother Miguel, who is in Carrie's preschool class.
Being the resident missionaries at the church in Huacarpay, the Huacarpay youth were eager to include Shannon and I in the dance they wanted to prepare. After extensive discussion of what dance we wanted to do, we finally chose one called Pacasito, which, I think is native to the southern coastal region of Peru, where the earthquake hit last year. And we began practicing. Dance practice for me first required learning the steps of the dance - easier said than done! My brain is wired more for language than for dancing. Slowly but surely, with much patience, struggle and time, I began to be able to make my feet do what everyone else's seemed to do so naturally.
The Huacarpay church has some
serious dance talent! I found it interesting and somewhat humbling that one of my former English students now became my teacher and patiently helped my feet figure out what they were doing. Practice ended up being Friday and Saturday nights for about an hour and a half, with the exception of the last week before the dance, when we practiced every night. Finally, the night before the dance, we went through the entire thing without stopping, exactly like it was going to be the next morning. I have the dance on film. Unfortunately, however, it's too large to upload to Blogger. I was, however, able to upload it to Facebook, for those of you who are able to see it there. I thought I'd be able to send a link so you could all see it there, but unfortunately, I can't. Sorry about that!
The morning was a small piece of what heaven must be like as we all brought our offerings of praise in different tongues and styles before the throne of God and poured them out in worship to Him. Many-colored outfits filled the sanctuary as many voices raised praise to the one, all-powerful God who created such beautiful diversity and fellowship.
The morning also included a message from Merv Charles, making an administrative visit from the EMM offices for the weekend. Another event was the licensing of new pastors (Roberto, Raul and Octavio) and the official presentation of a new leadership team for the national church,
a change which has been taking place gradually over the past few months and will become official in June. Since the Peruvian church became its own entity, separate from EMM, in 2001, Pastor Ruben Carrasco has been the president and Pastor Celestino Cutipa (my pastor at Huacarpay) the treasurer. During those 6 years the church has grown considerably and the gospel has been extended to many new places in Peru. However, Pastor Ruben was feeling the need to step down as the president in order to concentrate more on being the pastor of the church in San Jeronimo. So, earlier this year, a new leadership committee was selected for the national Mennonite church of Peru. 
Pastors Eloy, Roberto, David, and Paulino are joining Pastor Ruben (who is now the secretary) as the members of the leadership council. The official presentation of these leaders, as well as an official thank you to Pastors Ruben and Celestino rounded out the morning's worship service.
But the culto unido is not just a morning worship service. It's an all-day fellowship event. Everyone brings food, picnic blankets, and games. After the service, people break off into small groups, sitting around eating together. After lunch comes the annual huge soccer game with as many people as want to play. My friends and I, however, opted for a rousing game
of Dutch Blitz with what ended up being, at its peak, 12 people playing in teams of 2 with 6 decks of cards. Dutch Blitz, you say? Oh yes, apparently, some missionary somewhere along the line decided that this "vonderful goot game" was so vonderful goot that it should be shared with people 3000 miles away from its birthplace. And so Dutch Blitz caught on like wildfire...
At long last, exhausted from playing soccer, warm, thanks to the bright winter sun, full of good food, having worshipped God and enjoyed our time fellowshipping together, we packed up our things and bade farewell to the culto unido until next year.
It is a beautiful day, a tiny foretaste
of "there before me was a multitude of people from every nation, tribe, and tongue standing before the throne (of God)". Each church is requested to bring a special number (dance, worship, skit, etc) to share with everyone. It's a day I always enjoy and look forward to. This year, it was fun to see a number of my students at the service. In the picture are Lucero, Bethany, Alejandra, Diana and Diana's little brother Miguel, who is in Carrie's preschool class.Being the resident missionaries at the church in Huacarpay, the Huacarpay youth were eager to include Shannon and I in the dance they wanted to prepare. After extensive discussion of what dance we wanted to do, we finally chose one called Pacasito, which, I think is native to the southern coastal region of Peru, where the earthquake hit last year. And we began practicing. Dance practice for me first required learning the steps of the dance - easier said than done! My brain is wired more for language than for dancing. Slowly but surely, with much patience, struggle and time, I began to be able to make my feet do what everyone else's seemed to do so naturally.
The Huacarpay church has some
serious dance talent! I found it interesting and somewhat humbling that one of my former English students now became my teacher and patiently helped my feet figure out what they were doing. Practice ended up being Friday and Saturday nights for about an hour and a half, with the exception of the last week before the dance, when we practiced every night. Finally, the night before the dance, we went through the entire thing without stopping, exactly like it was going to be the next morning. I have the dance on film. Unfortunately, however, it's too large to upload to Blogger. I was, however, able to upload it to Facebook, for those of you who are able to see it there. I thought I'd be able to send a link so you could all see it there, but unfortunately, I can't. Sorry about that! 
The morning was a small piece of what heaven must be like as we all brought our offerings of praise in different tongues and styles before the throne of God and poured them out in worship to Him. Many-colored outfits filled the sanctuary as many voices raised praise to the one, all-powerful God who created such beautiful diversity and fellowship.The morning also included a message from Merv Charles, making an administrative visit from the EMM offices for the weekend. Another event was the licensing of new pastors (Roberto, Raul and Octavio) and the official presentation of a new leadership team for the national church,
a change which has been taking place gradually over the past few months and will become official in June. Since the Peruvian church became its own entity, separate from EMM, in 2001, Pastor Ruben Carrasco has been the president and Pastor Celestino Cutipa (my pastor at Huacarpay) the treasurer. During those 6 years the church has grown considerably and the gospel has been extended to many new places in Peru. However, Pastor Ruben was feeling the need to step down as the president in order to concentrate more on being the pastor of the church in San Jeronimo. So, earlier this year, a new leadership committee was selected for the national Mennonite church of Peru. 
Pastors Eloy, Roberto, David, and Paulino are joining Pastor Ruben (who is now the secretary) as the members of the leadership council. The official presentation of these leaders, as well as an official thank you to Pastors Ruben and Celestino rounded out the morning's worship service.But the culto unido is not just a morning worship service. It's an all-day fellowship event. Everyone brings food, picnic blankets, and games. After the service, people break off into small groups, sitting around eating together. After lunch comes the annual huge soccer game with as many people as want to play. My friends and I, however, opted for a rousing game
of Dutch Blitz with what ended up being, at its peak, 12 people playing in teams of 2 with 6 decks of cards. Dutch Blitz, you say? Oh yes, apparently, some missionary somewhere along the line decided that this "vonderful goot game" was so vonderful goot that it should be shared with people 3000 miles away from its birthplace. And so Dutch Blitz caught on like wildfire...At long last, exhausted from playing soccer, warm, thanks to the bright winter sun, full of good food, having worshipped God and enjoyed our time fellowshipping together, we packed up our things and bade farewell to the culto unido until next year.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Feliz Dia de la Madre!
Today was Mother's Day at PROMESA. The entire school has been working hard for the last week and a half or so preparing skits, poems, songs and gifts for all the mothers. The excitement and anticipation of the Mother's Day program built throughout this week as the students learned parts, memorized songs, and worked on various projects. Not only did the students work hard, but the teachers did too. Much planning time went into the program and much class time was spent practicing for it. Finally, this morning, all our hard work paid off as our little cherubs, scrubbed and shining, presented all the work they had prepared. From fourth grade's skit about head lice all the way to the four year olds saying "I love you Mother", the program was a success for all involved. The students did a great job and the parents really seemed to enjoy it. It's times like these when I realize again how much I really love my students and how proud I am of them. These two short video clips will give you an idea of what I did with my students. I dedicate them with love to my own mom, for all she's done for me and for all the sacrifices she's made for me throughout my life.
Happy Mother's Day to all!
Happy Mother's Day to all!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Combi adventures
One thing that happens to me just about every day (usually several times a day) is riding on a combi. It's quite an adventure, one I actually usually enjoy. A combi is a Peruvian method of public transportation. It's quite economical really, costing anywhere from $.10 to $.20 a ride, depending on how far you're going. A combi is slightly smaller than a 15-passenger van in the States, with seats for about 15-19 people. However, it is not unusual to have between 20-25 passengers aboard at any given time. Let me give you a peek into my transportation to school every morning. Our house is about a block from the end of a combi line (there are various lines that go all over the city). Usually, when I'm ready to head out to school (around 7 AM), there is at least 1 combi getting ready to leave for the day. I climb aboard and wait till the driver figures they have enough passengers to make it worth leaving. I sit as close to the door as possible, since I'll have to get out before long. My bag sits on my lap and my knees stick out into the aisle. The cobrador (the person who collects the money) slides the door shut and we are on our way. As we go down the hill to the main road, we stop for many people who have their arms stuck out, signaling they want to climb aboard with the rest of us. Many of them are students in the uniforms of various schools. The combi fills up quickly and I wonder how I am going to get out the door at the main road, since there are people stuffed in my way, holding on to the metal bars always conveniently attached to the top of the combi. I try to discreetly fish the 30-centimo pasaje (money you pay to ride a combi) out of my money pouch in my bag. As we approach the main street, I call out "Baja pista" (I'm getting off at the highway), and the cobrador sticks a grimy hand out to collect my 30 centimos, simultaneously transferring my message to the driver up front. When we reach the corner of the main street, one or the other of us will usually relay the message to the driver, to make sure he remembers. Then the combi rolls to a stop, the door slides open, and I manage to somehow extricate myself from the mass of humanity crammed between me and the door. I am barely out of the combi when it's on its way again. I wait till the light turns, then run across the street, stop in the median and run across the other side when it's clear. Now I am one of the ones who waits with outstretched arm for a combi to pick me up. Finally, one comes. I clamber aboard, again trying to sit as near the door as possible. I am barely on when the cobrador calls out "Lleva" or "Vamos", both of which mean "Let's go!". I lurch toward my seat, resembling a tipsy drunkard and fall into it as gracefully as possible. My seatmate might be anyone - a young professional, an Andean woman with her brightly colored blanket on her back holding who knows what, a young mother with her child and a market bag, on the way to buy food at the market, an older man, a child on the way to school. We bump and rattle over the rough roads, the cobrador shouting out an almost constant litany of stops, followed by a short pause, then "Baja" or "Nadie", depending on whether someone is getting off or not. The car part stores whiz past, interspersed with tiny restaurants and some of the numerous typical Peruvian grocery stores, which contain an amazingly large variety of items in an amazingly small space. Then we pass the jail and we're officially entering the town of San Jeronimo. Soon, we turn off the main road to head up to the farmers' market, where the human (and otherwise) contents of the combi often change drastically as many people get off and on. Soon, we're headed back down the hill. I know I'm close now. "Farmacia", the cobrador calls out. "Farmacia, nadie" (No one's getting off). Then "Piscina". "Piscina baja" I respond. He relays the message to the driver, the door opens, and I get off. I walk down the road to the school and thus begins another day in my life in Peru.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)