Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad!

Greetings from IWM!

We would like to take a moment to express our gratitude for your support of the Incarnate Word Missionaries program. Thank you for being such wonderful examples of the Christmas spirit, and joining us in our mission to live the beauty of the incarnation.

Here we offer you a brief reflection from Henri Nouwen, as we continue to grow together in our shared incarnational spirituality.

“I think that we have hardly thought through the immense implications of the mystery of the incarnation. Where is God? God is where we are weak, vulnerable, small and dependent. God is where the poor are, the hungry, the handicapped, the mentally ill, the elderly, the powerless. How can we come to know God when our focus is elsewhere, on success, influence, and power? I increasingly believe that our faithfulness will depend on our willingness to go where there is brokenness, loneliness, and human need.

If the church has a future it is a future with the poor in whatever form. Each one of us is seriously searching to live and grow in this belief, and by friendship we can support each other. I realize that the only way for us to stay well in the midst of the many "worlds" is to stay close to the small, vulnerable child that lives in our hearts and in every other human being. Often we do not know that the Christ child is within us. When we discover him we can truly rejoice.”

An excerpt from Sabbatical Journey, Henri J.M. Nouwen

Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (Sunday December 24, 1995, Freiburg, Germany). © Henri J.M. Nouwen.

***

Saludos de MVE!

Quisieramos tomar esta oportunidad para expresar nuestra gratitud por todo el apoyo que ustedes brindan al programa MVE. Les agradecemos por ser los lindos ejemplos del espiritu navideño, y de juntarse con nosotros en nuestra misión de vivir la belleza de la encarnación.

Les ofrecemos una breve reflexión de Henri Nouwen, para que seguimos creciendo juntos en nuestra espiritualidad de la encarnación que compartimos.  

“Yo creo que ni siquiera hemos pensado bien en las inmensas implicaciones del misterio de la encarnación. ¿Dónde está Dios? Encontramos a Dios cuando nos sentimos débiles, vulnerables, pequeños y dependientes de otros.  Dios está en donde se encuentran la pobreza, el hambriento, los enfermos, los ancianos, los impotentes. ¿Cómo podemos conocer a Dios cuando nos enfocamos en el éxito, la influencia, el poder y otras cosas? Cada vez creo más que nuestro compromiso con la fe dependerá de nuestra voluntad de ir donde hay desigualdad, soledad y donde el ser humano nos necesita.

Si la iglesia tiene un futuro, este será un futuro con la pobreza, en cualquier de sus formas. Cada uno de nosotros está buscando vivir y crecer con esta creencia, y nuestra amistad nos servirá para apoyarnos unos a otros. Entiendo que la única forma de estar conformes viviendo en varios “mundos”, es manteniéndonos cerca al niño vulnerable que vive en nuestros corazones y en los corazones de cada ser humano. Muchas veces no sabemos que el divino niño está dentro de nosotros, pero cuando lo descubrimos, es cuando podemos regocijarnos.”

De: Sabbatical Journey, Henri J.M. Nouwen

Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year (Sunday December 24, 1995, Freiburg, Germany). © Henri J.M. Nouwen.

"God bless us, everyone."

by Emily, Ruskamp, Kelli Nelson, and Marcelle Keating, IWM community serving in Chimbote, Peru

The chocolotadas, panetones, and hot sun that surround us this Christmas season are a bit different from the Christmas goodies and cold weather that we are used to.  Our celebration has resulted in a rich combination of our own traditions and Peruvian customs. We’d like to explore this a bit further by sharing a few of our recent experiences through the lens of the classic story, A Christmas Carol, and the three spirits that teach Mr. Scrooge so much about life, love, and the giving spirit of Christmas.

The First of the Three Spirits

As I read the account of Scrooge’s visits to past Christmases, I think about the Peruvian culture of fiestas, with Christmas being the ultimate cause for celebration.  The tradition is to have chocolatadas, which consist of hot chocolate and panetón, a fruit-cake type bread.  Like many parishes here, the youth movement in our parish hosted a chocolatada for children in our parish.  We bought some very simple toys to distribute (less than fifty cents each), gathered all the supplies, and handed out fifty tickets the morning of the event, anticipating that twice as many children would flood the doors when word spread around.  In the end only about 40 children came, probably because of the very short notice, so a group of us went downtown afterward to hand out the leftover panetón and toys to children working on the streets. 

As the Ghost of Christmas Past shows Scrooge a Christmas party thrown by his former boss, the Ghost comments, “A small matter … to make these silly folks so full of gratitude.”  These words resonate eerily with me after having that experience.  It would be dishonest to say that I did not get some satisfaction from seeing each child’s eyes light up with surprise and delight when she or he accepted the toy and bread.  That satisfaction, though, was tainted by an extreme discomfort that reached its epitome when my friend with the bag of toys was surrounded by a group of about ten children and adults, each pushing and pleading to receive a toy.  The image is somewhat haunting, but it forces me to continually reflect on the reality – why is it that a grown woman selling her little candies would follow us for blocks, pushing nameless children out of the way so that her own child could receive a fifty-cent doll for Christmas?  What cultural and economic factors make it so? 

Scrooge says after witnessing the party, “‘The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.’” In that moment he realizes the minimal role that money and gifts play in creating true happiness.  This Christmas season, I invite you to reflect with me on our reality and pray that we may transform our world – in which some have too much while most have not enough – into a world where all may joyfully celebrate in community with our neighbors.

-Emily Ruskamp

The Second of the Three Spirits

“Come in!” exclaimed the Ghost.  “Come in! and know me better, man!”   Scrooge’s encounter with the Ghost of Christmas Present is a series of invitations into the lives and homes of others, in which his timid and bitter heart is further opened to the reality he once ignored.  Yes, Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Jesus, the child of hope, born in poverty, savior of the world, and it is also a celebration of the family, the Holy and human family, home, and all that entails.  It’s a home that is not necessarily of structure, but of the heart, something we all have, the heart that feels, engages with other hearts, and is shaped when we “come in” to “know” and journey together.

I am learning more and more here that anytime we engage in the lives of others we are entering into the heart of Christ whose birth we celebrate this time of year.  We open ourselves to reaffirming the truth in our lives, as well as redefining what home is to us, that sacred space inside of us that gives us a beautiful and gentle confidence to move about as a constant, every day invitation for others to share in Christ’s love, and the joy of his birth and being. 

Sarah, a friend of ours here in Chimbote, invited us for lunch in her humble home a few days ago.  While eating platefuls of delicious trigo, papas, and cuy (guinea pig), she explained to us that this had been her first attempt at making the dish, that she rarely cooks, and that we were enjoying two of her four cuyes (an amount that could feed her family of four for two meals).  She sells sweets every day at the little park across from her home along the main route to the center of town where she has been stationed for the last fourteen years.  I visit often on my way to and from my site of service, and quite frequently see her saturated in smiles surrounded by local friends and neighbors who have stopped to visit.  To me, she emulates someone who has made her home in sharing in the hearts of others, as did Jesus, as is the way of love.  The ease at which she is, her simplicity, profound generosity with time, desire to learn, listen, bring others joy is something that makes Christmas very real to me this year, perhaps similar to those Scrooge encountered with the Spirit that sacred night.

“Much they saw, and far they went, and many homes they visited, but always with a happy end.  The Spirit stood beside the sick beds, and they were cheerful; on foreign lands, and they were close at home; by struggling men, and they were patient in their greater hope, by poverty, and it was rich.” 

-Kelli Nelson

The Third of the Three Spirits

We are frequently asked as missionaries why we have come to serve. Many locals are surprised when they find out we do not receive a salary for our work.  It is hard for me to explain that although I do not receive money for my efforts, I have been enriched in my life and it is a gift I could never put a dollar sign on.

The ghost of Christmas future is an ominous presence that accompanies Scrooge scene to scene in cold silence showing him the fruits of his life of inaction and apathy.  With each scene, Scrooge is increasingly horrified to see the news of his death treated in utter disregard within the community he labored. He pleads to the spirit saying “Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which if persevered in, they must lead, but if the courses be departed from the ends will change.”  Christmas is the spirit of giving: opening ones heart to the spirit of volunteerism, giving of oneself, helping to spread Christ’s love in the world.  Our time in service can make a difference for so many. I am happy to report that after a year and half of living in Chimbote, we are not the only volunteers to be found here. I am aware of many Peruvians helping Peruvians - being Christ to one another.  Whether it is in the parish working with the youth, a psychologist who volunteers his time with the street kids, hospice workers who go above and beyond their job, or music teachers who give of their time traveling from Trujillo twice a week to give the youth an opportunity to experience playing in an orchestra - these are all just a few beautiful examples of service happening right now within the city.

Taking time to volunteer has the funny reverse effect of enriching the life of the volunteer more so than those they serve.  I hope you can all find an opportunity to share Christ’s love in service to others and in turn receive Christ’s love back tenfold this Christmas season.  Like Scrooge, we can all promise “to honor Christmas in [our] heart and try to keep it all year.”

-Marcelle Keating

"There's no place like home." It's not quite like it sounds....

by Terri Horn, IWM returning from 21 months in Bukoba, Tanzania.

*This blog is written in two parts, the first part leaving Tanzania and the second upon being back in the USA.

Today is December 9^th, 2010. It is Republic Day of Tanzania and next year they will mark their 50 years of freedom from English colonization. For me, I am sitting in an internet café in Dar es Salaam, the business capital of Tanzania, writing my last in-country blog of my experiences here.

I will leave soon to begin a Master’s degree program in New Mexico, studying Sociology and Globalization. I hope to use this degree to further my work of human rights advocacy and non-profit sector work. I know that my time here has prepared me for school and it has given me a real chance to work for community development in a country that is so poor, but yet has so many resources.

So how do I feel about leaving? I am leaving 3 months earlier than expected. I was to stay until March, but ultimately I decided to begin studies in January. It is not that my placement has been a “failure” or even unfulfilling- I have been fighting an internal struggle of to stay or to leave. To stay longer means that I am denying myself an opportunity to make myself a stronger, better person, and the decision was not one of disaster or strife- it is that I truly believe that the Bukoba Women’s Empowerment Association has taken gigantic steps to improve their record keeping, monitoring and evaluation of programs, and expansion of their soy commercial farm has allowed them to invest in social projects that benefit the co-op members, such as educational seminars and a clean water project. Assisting them in this journey was my exact job description when I came here. I have been able to spend my last few months away from the office, conducting focus groups with Global Business Partners, visiting the site of the water project, and spending one last time in the villages with members. I am thinking more about the members that I have met. They have accepted me openly and whole-heartedly. They have not judged me at all and have been welcomed me into their homes. For the many challenges that they face, they are a true example to me of perseverance, wisdom, and grace, and I hope to one day be more like them. I will never forget them and I love them all very much. 

December 16, 2010

When I arrive on Saturday afternoon, I am greeted at the airport by my WGC boss, Tere Dresner, who welcomes me with affectionate greetings and roses. I am staying at her house for 1 week so that I can be at the WGC office, transferring files, having exit evaluations, tying up loose ends. It is a necessary investment- without this, WGC will have less of the documentation that I have worked so hard on. It is the past year and a half of my life- I won’t let it unravel.

As I arrive back into American Holiday culture, finding myself surrounded by Christmas music, stiffening cold weather, and mass advertising, I temporarily distract myself from my feelings by watching new movies and going shopping for accessories such as a computer and a much needed car. This lasts for approximately 3 days and then I am sick of it all again. Sick of shopping the aisles, waiting in lines, reading up on the newest notebooks when I have spent the past 2 years operating on a Windows 2003, stone-age, virus-filled desktop. It doesn’t even matter; and this scares me because it had been my most creative vice for escape. One of my down moments is when I try to go car-shopping at 7 p.m. at night and I find I don’t even have the strength to discuss the different cars with the representative leading me around the displays.

Tuesday is the day when I finally have my first downfall. I wake myself up from crying and 2 hours later, I am still touching up the makeup on my face. I try to perk myself up by finally purchasing a highly-discounted notebook (I bought the 2^nd to last one in the stock!) and my morning improves a bit. At noon, Simone Brown, an IWM associate and board member picks me up for lunch and she begins to discuss with me my experience, comparing it to her 2 years in Peru. Her open demeanor hits me and the tears are coming again so I tell her all of my excuses that I had so wholeheartedly believe in, “I’m getting older”, “I feel it is time for me to be back in school again”. She says how proud of me she is that I listened to myself in deciding whether to stay or go. After this, I have an appointment with Clare, the assistant director of IWM, and I literally walk into her office crying, saying, “It is so hard”. It is like I am compromising a part of myself. Reality is, I just don’t feel the “no place like home” high that comes after the once in a lifetime adventure. Even when I sleep well, I cry almost every morning. I have no appetite and when I do eat, the food doesn’t taste good. I have withdrawn- I am a sad, scared turtle. I don’t have the energy to talk to people and if I’m being completely truthful, I don’t really want to be around anyone, not even my family, as much as I love them, and I’m tired of hearing the question, “How is Africa?!” Not Tanzania. AFRICA. It isn’t the change of scenery or the fact that I left early or that I even felt Bukoba to be a ‘home’ for me; what tears through my chest and rips me up inside is when I get past the excuses to the part of telling people, “But I still love them”. Even though it sounds so self-centered, it is the hardest part that I cannot get past- that no one, not even my coworkers or family, can really understand how I feel.

I feel that I am on the outside looking in- that I am divorced from my own culture. Everyone is telling me this will pass and I know it will, in time. The most paradoxical part is that I cannot solve this for myself, even if I tried. There is no way to make it stop, it’s just a daily process. We will see. Time changes everything.

Baby steps are better than no steps.

by Elle Vatterott, IWM serving in San Antonio, Texas.

One of the children I tutor has dyslexia and dysgraphia.  PJ is naturally the sweetest little boy, always eager to do anything I ask him except open a book. He is in third grade, but reads at a kindergarten level. He was able to pass K-2 because of his special reading accommodations, in which all of his work and tests were read to him. Although Texas law requires every school must provide a dyslexia specialist or program, his school cannot afford this luxury. Despite PJ’s success in passing his classes thus far, this year will be a bit trickier.

At the end of the third grade school year students begin taking The Texas Education Agency Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills Test (TAKS). It is a series of standardized tests used in Texas primary and secondary school to assess students’ attainment of reading, writing, math, science and social studies skills required under Texas education standards.

Within my first week I quickly learned the magnitude of the role that the TAKS plays in the children’s lives. One little girl even described TAKS testing day as the “most important day in your life.” PJ will have all of the tests read to him except the reading section, which happens to be the only test that third grade students must pass to be promoted to fourth grade.

I knew this was going to be a major challenge and I was ready to beat it. I tried all sorts of different reading techniques with him, hoping that one would miraculously cure him. Not even fun games or cool Spiderman prizes could encourage PJ to pick up a book and find the joy of reading.

Growing frustrated with the lack of resources from his school as well as my own shortcomings, I began to feel like I was failing this little boy.  Every time PJ’s teacher assigned reading homework, he would cry and his head would immediately drop. It broke my heart to see him struggle, and his lack of self confidence.

Having Learning Disabilities myself, I remember how frustrating school can be.  Thanks to help with several reading specialists and learning consultants, I was able to develop useful strategies to deal with my shortcomings.  To this day I still rely on those little tricks.  I firmly believe that PJ desperately needs someone to help him with his specific needs.   Like they say, ‘a mind is a terrible thing to waste.’

After researching alternative programs outside the school district, with little success, I felt my energy was rapidly deteriorating. It’s important to hide my feelings of failure from the children, and not allow my frustration to impact their education...  ‘Easier said than done.’

The interesting thing about dyslexic people is that while they struggle to read, write and spell for their entire lives, most of them  excel exceptionally in another area. In fact, the same mental function that produces a genius can also produce problems of dyslexia.  Nearly every dyslexia professional that I have consulted has told me that the key to connecting and helping dyslexic child is to spend a significant amount of time eliciting the child’s particular talent or skill.

PJ wants to be a 'professional car drawer' when he gets older; consequently we draw a lot of cars and big Texan Trucks together. Surprisingly, he also enjoys math - so he was ecstatic when I gave him his own set of multiplication flash cards.

A few weeks ago PJ did something that he has never done before. By himself, he took his reading worksheet out of his backpack, put it on the table and began to sound out the first word.  The next day I rushed to his school to tell his teacher the good news. She told me that she also noticed an improvement in his work habits and reading participation.  A few days later, while we were preparing for his weekly spelling test, he told me that he secretly likes to spell. I was so overcome with emotion that it took me a minute to comprehend and respond what he had just admitted.

PJ is well aware of how his dyslexia disables his academic performance, but now it is time to give him the good news about all of the wonderful and unique gifts that come from his “disability.”

He is one of the most creative and excitable children that I know. He has an unceasing curiosity and an extraordinary vivid imagination.  He rarely asks for a separate piece of paper to do his math homework because he can visually work out the problems in his head. What he thinks and sees in his head is different than what comes out when he writes and reads. 

One simply cannot measure his intelligence level using the TAKS. To expect a child to read, fully digest and answer questions on multiple pages of third grade level material, without providing any prior dyslexia specific reading therapy is not only unrealistic, it is cruel.  His life has been a series of uphill battles, constantly being reminded of what he lacks and cannot do. The saddest part is that he did absolutely nothing wrong to deserve his hardships. 

Although my dislike for the TAKS has not waned, my plan of action to prepare him for the exam has changed. With unremitting encouragement to keep trying, he will learn and get better at learning.  Again, ‘easier said than done.’   

There is a door out there for PJ to enter, making his little academic life easier, and I am his master key for now. So at the end of each tutoring session, as we move closer to the TAKS test, his self confidence grows a little more.   Baby steps are better than no steps.

Not your typical Thanksgiving celebration...

by Emma Buckhout, IWM serving in Santa Fe (Mexico City), Mexico

Nicole already covered some of Thanksgiving from Zambia, but a week later I thought it would still be appropriate to share some of the events and thoughts from Thanksgiving in Mexico.

My Thanksgiving in Santa Fe took me by surprise. In a place where few people actually know what this day is, I found myself spending more hours and energy preparing for it than I ever have in the United States. Not only did I have the opportunity to remember the origins and meaning of Thanksgiving as I taught my class of five-year-olds about it at the guardería, but in the parish we helped to create a traditional Thanksgiving dinner (with a few Mexican twists!).

Thanksgiving plans actually started in August, believe it or not! Soon after Tara and I arrived, Father Salvador informed us that he had bought a turkey, which until recently lived in the corn garden behind the parish, to help us celebrate Thanksgiving in November. (Sidenote: Canadian Thanksgiving is at the end of October. Tara insists that it is infinitely superior timing because it spreads out the feast day from Christmas, but she obliged to go along with the November plans.)

So when the time finally came, we agreed to help cook the turkey and a few Thanksgiving staples, guided by Jessica (a former IW Missionary who lives in Santa Fe), and then planned a potluck dinner at the parish for friends from the church and neighborhood. On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, Jessica and I went shopping for ingredients and chickens to supplement the turkey meat. On Wednesday evening after work at the guardería, a few friends at the parish, Tara, Jessica and I prepared the chickens and freshly killed turkey (Father completed the last rites and decapitation), and then made a pie from a pumpkin left from the Dia de los Muertos. I took Thursday off of work so that after finishing a couple batches of chocolate chip cookies for dessert, I  could put the turkey in the oven and baste it by the hour, until Tara and Jessica arrived to make the potatoes and stuffing. Finally Thursday was upon us - an assortment of friends gathered around the big table at the parish. People said we looked a little tired, but it was delicious. Definitely worth the effort!

After all that activity, I wanted to take a few moments to reflect once more on the meaning behind the celebration and delicious food, and share just a few of the things for which I am most thankful right now.

First, I am thankful just for the opportunity to be here in Santa Fe in Mexico City. Life as a missionary continues to be challenging, rewarding, humbling, surprising, tiring, lifegiving, always educational, and full of great little things. I am thankful for the kids I get to teach at the guardería, and their hugs and screams and bright futures. After I taught them about Thanksgiving they had a blast drawing pictures of what they were thankful for and coloring turkeys. I am thankful that I can walk (and occasionally run) around this neighborhood with its landscape that never ceases to amaze me. The hills are insane! I am thankful for all the people that open their arms to me, and usually their food stocks as well. I will not get sick of tinga anytime soon, and we can buy avocados every week at the market! I am thankful for Santa Fe´s sunny and relatively warm, snowless weather as December starts. Even if it´s not always pleasant to breathe, the pollution and sunshine make beautiful sunsets. I am thankful that people put up with my Spanish and are always willing to teach me more.

Along with the opportunity to be here, more than anything, I am thankful for my community. I am thankful for my immediate community in Tara- her support, encouragement, love, friendship, talent for cooking, and good humor. My greater missionary community in Jessica, Miriam, the sisters, and the directors provides constant fellowship and support (as well as additional cooking talent as we saw last week!). I am extremetly grateful everyday for my local community and adopted “parish family.” The fact that they helped us to plan a Thanksgiving dinner when they knew we would be missing family and traditions from home is just one example of the loving welcome we receive everyday. And they didn't even complain when the turkey I was in charge of cooking did not finish in time! J Lastly, though they feel far away, my friends and family at home have been incredibly supportive as well. Their prayers and encouragement and willingness to talk to me over fuzzy skype connections and listen to all my stories and try to picture my verbal descriptions is a constant comfort.

Yes, it was different to be away for Thanksgiving, but there was great fellowship with new community, growth of experiences to share with those far away, and many reasons to thank God.