Everything is a Museum

Two weeks ago I had the pleasure of taking the kids from Visitation House to a local park.  While the kids (ages 7,8,10 and 12) have often been to this park, I thought it would be fun just to get out.  I had a 50% success rate.  The 12 year old was "too cool" for the park and sat on a bench by herself.  Teenagers.  The 10 year old and 8 year old, on the other hand, were thrilled.  They brought their favorite toys, stuffed animals, a football and even changed shoes.  While sitting outside by the pool (this park has an beautiful outdoor pool shaded by trees that arch over it), I overheard this conversation:

JP (picks up a twig): "Look at this!"

Mariela (less than impressed) "It's only a stick."

JP:  "It's not just a stick, it has a centipede on it.  It's a museum." 

Mariela: "It's not a museum!"

JP: "Yes it is.  Everything is a museum."

Upon hearing this, I tilted my head while a baffled look came cross my face.  It got me thinking about my mindset when I walk into museums.  For me, museums are like a playhouse.  They are filled with an immense amount of knowledge that is within my reach.  They are places that can leave me feeling impressed, awed or even shocked.  Museums invite me to step inside another world, even if only for a short time. I walk into museums excited about what I can learn.  What if I looked at the world with the same mindset?  Wouldn’t everything seem novel, more enjoyable and simply waiting for me to discover it all?

As I thought about what JP had said, I tried to look at my day-to-day occurrences with a new light.  I noticed myself paying attention more to the little things in life.  People, as odd as it sounds, were exhibits.  At dinner one night, Sister Lettie displayed the movements and sounds of screaming bats as she shared about her life in Zambia and the "bat party" in her attic.  I saw a special on intercultural dialogue as two of my co-workers, one Irish and the other Mexican American, discussed how the tortilla is equivalent to the potato; you can do just about anything with these staples.  Likewise, I was privileged to hear the first-hand account of one of the children here.  She told me she went to 6 different schools in one year and vividly described several different shelters she had been to.  I felt honored to have shared moments such as these with my community members who range greatly in age and in background.  As I listen to them, I am encouraged me to revisit the museums of their lives, allowing me to deepen my understanding of their worlds.  

Angelique Snyder, Incarnate Word Missionary

Learning Just To "Be" With People

When I was at a Catholic Bible School in rural Alberta, the local priest once preached from the altar that people with disabilities were created by God so that we would learn to love.  Having worked one day a week for almost a year with the Missionaries of Charity, I have learned that not only do they teach us to love, but that we are loved and indeed, loveable – just as we are, not for anything we do or say, but who we are in our very presence and essence.

Presence is one of the charisms and values of the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word and of the IWM missionaries.  I have to admit that this Christ Incarnate presence is something I have struggled with.  In our orientation it was stressed that it is not only the things we do, but actually our physical and spiritual presence to people that is important.  I am a doer and not a very good ‘be-er,’so whether it is hanging out in the kitchen at the parish, or staying for extended amounts of time after our youth group meetings, or sitting with God just trying to ‘listen’ for more than about 3 minutes, I struggle big time, because I feel like my time is being wasted.  I am not doing anything productive. 

Working with the Missionaries of Charity, has helped me with this a lot, and little by little I am learning just to ‘be’ with people.  The Missionaries have 3 sections at their location in Santa Fe, Mexico City.  Upstairs in one of their buildings they care for babies and young children.  Downstairs in the same building they have about 15 niñas (girls) which are young to middle aged women with varying degrees of mental and physical disabilities.  They also have a section for older women.  I have concentrated mostly downstairs with the niñas and abuelitas (older women) putting cream on their faces, cutting their nails and feeding them, but most recently have stuck with the niñas.

Their ward, as institutional and drab as it is, gives me peace.  Usually, I cut their finger and toenails, clean their ears and feed them . . . but sometimes, as awkward as it feels in moments, I just ´am´with them.  I communicate, but do not talk with them, or I dance with them. 

Let me describe to you some of the incredibly loveable people that I have met there – Lupita is a young woman whose legs and arms are so short that she moves around on a skateboard, but her mind is perfectly sound.  She can write with her toes, is an associate of the Missionaries of Charity and is now working on finishing her schooling.  Her best friend is Cande (pronounced Cand-eh), who is a middle aged woman with the spirit and face of a child -- kind but usually doesn’t talk much until she is in a really good mood and chatters away like Father Salvador’s pet birds and orders the other girls around in her soft tones.  Cande keeps a stash of collectible junk under her mattress, and when something goes missing she is the first that the Sisters and collaborators ask.  Linda is an obese egg shaped and mute girl with Downs who has this incredibly quirky sense of humour and a strong character that comes and goes in spurts. One day, Linda had been made up with a very cute – but very unwanted -- little red clip bow in her hair.  She took it out and wrapped it up first in the baggy for my left-hand silicone glove bag, and then in the one for the right one, and then put this perfectly neat package in the tin box that was holding the nail-clippers that I was using on the other girls.  I took it out and put it back in her hair and she repeated the exact same meticulous hiding process as the first time.  At that point I decided she should be able to exercise the right to veto the paraphernalia that goes in her hair each day.  Another day, I tried to steal some of her food for Ines, another girl with Downs, not knowing why they gave Linda so much to eat in the first place.  But, let me tell you, there was NO WAY I was taking any food away from her.  She threw my hand away each time I tried, continuing her fixation on her sub-divided plate.

Ines, is another girl with Downs who can walk, but is too weak to stand up straight and so requires that you attach her as a train car to your waist and walk with her.  But, Ines has the most innocent huge brown eyes that look at you so intently as if she is searching your soul, and when she feels loved she lays her head on your lap in the most gentle way.  Corazón (heart) is another girl with mental and physical disabilities, who also can walk but with stiff difficulty and as if she is a bit tipsy.  Her eyes just sparkle and she always wears these cute little red shoes, as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.  She always greets you with the hugest smile and her sweet guttural sigh.  She really likes to dance and can breathe her vowels in sequence if you prompt her.

There are several of the girls that are bed ridden at least to their reclined wheelchairs.  The emaciated limbs of these young girls are twisted in all sorts of strange positions, and they cannot speak – except with their eyes, their crying, sighs and moans.  One such girl, Edith Grande, spoke to me one day.  The girls used to pray the Rosary every day, and so I sat cross-legged on the floor in the back, having returned from putting something away in the bathing area.  One of the full-time workers said that Edith was saying that I shouldn’t be sitting on the floor – with her sparkling eyes, her facial expressions and her innocent smile.  She was saying that I should take the chair that her foot was on.  We settled on sharing the seat.  I was blessed by her generosity and pure love.

For almost twenty years, my mom has worked as the accountant at a complex of a workshop and housing units for the mentally and physically challenged.  I always felt I needed to work with this minority of people in some capacity, to prove to myself that I had that kind of love for the ‘other’, or to see if I did.  I found out that I do have this kind of love, even though sometimes, perhaps too often, I have to walk away and compose myself -- and my gag reflex.  But, I have learned something equally or more valuable -- that I am worthy of this kind of love in all of my brokenness, and in all of my selfishness; that my presence is enough regardless of what I say or do.  I have learned, as Henri Nouwen learned at the Daybreak community of L’Arche, that I too, am the “Beloved [daughter] on who the [Father’s] favour rests” (The Return of the Prodigal Son, 16).

Tara Hurford, Incarnate Word Missionary

New Perspectives and Emotions

Well the middle of September marks my one year spent here in Zambia.

In most ways I can’t believe it has already been a year. But in other ways I feel so at home and comfortable that it feels like a lot longer.

I am so very thankful for the experiences I have had so far and the people that I have met. At the same time I look forward to another year of growth, learning, and  the new and continued relationships with people that I am blessed with. I feel like I have learned so much and been able to make a positive change in myself. With that there are struggles and weaknesses I encounter each day as well. I thank God for those because in those moments I am humbled and open to change.

I thought I would give you an update on my life here and what has been happening. I recently went to Lusaka to receive my nurses’ license.

Yes, it has been a year since I arrived but it was a quite lengthy process to say the least. But none the less I am officially a licensed nurse here in Zambia now :). I continue working in the MIC (Mother and Infant Care) Program with Sr. Cristina and Sr. Rosemar. I am there when the moms and babies come on tuesdays and fridays to collect the milk and to get the babies weighed. Then on wednesdays a team of us go out to visit the ones who are sick in their homes. I enjoy the visits especially because we get to know the moms on a more personal level in their environments. On mondays and thursdays I can be found in the children’s ward at the hospital here in Mongu. I enjoy working with the other nurses there and the little patients steal my heart. Its never a boring day on the ward, definitely the work keeps me on my toes. Usually thursday afternoons I go to an orphanage close to my house to play with the kids and be a kid myself. They bring my heart so much joy with their laughter and stories. So those are just some of the things that keep me busy for now.

I continue to pray for patience and love. To be able to share these with others and accept them from those around me. So as I reflect on this time that is past and plan for the time in the future I am reminded I am called to live in the present and to just be.

Nicole Tardio, Incarnate Word Missionary

Una Communidad Nueva

Kelli and I stood on either side of Sister Rosaleen, who had one arm around each of us, as we watched Marcelle enter the “Passengers only” portion of the departures wing.  As I watched her walk away, tears welled up in my eyes, a salty symbol of the emotions swimming through my stomach, head, and heart—sadness in saying goodbye, excitement for the next step in Marcelle’s life, and nervousness and excitement to begin the community anew.  For me, that moment is very representative of what I’m feeling in the midst of founding a new community.  It is the challenge of letting go of old habits and seeing our house with fresh eyes while offering helpful advice and guidance to the two new missionaries.  It is holding on to the sacredness of my relationship with Kelli, the other returning missionary, while embracing the new dynamics and dimensions brought by Katie and Kyle.  It is continuing to enjoy and strengthen my relationships with the greater community while learning to open my heart to two new missionaries.  The transition has not been easy, but two role models have helped me to embrace the beauty of it:  first, the example left by Jesus’ 12 apostles, whose love for each other was enough to inspire others to follow Christ, and second, the community here in Chimbote, who continually reopen their lives to each of us who come to walk a sacred journey with them.  And in that, I ask for God to open my heart, as well, so that I may continually honor the sacredness of the path that is now being shared by Kelli, Katie, Kyle, and me.

-Emily Ruskamp, Incarnate Word Missionary

Give us this day our daily bread…

“Kel, can you pass the mantequilla?”  “Por supuesto!”

“Sorry I burned the rice today, guys.”

“Oh my gosh, this is so good!  How did you make it?”

“How was your morning?”

“I’m kind of worried about…”

“What do you think I should do?”

“What have you got planned for the afternoon?”

“I’ve got dishes today.”

Our community here in Chimbote has taken to the tradition of sharing lunch together each day, a ritual I have found  to be quite symbolic and foundational as it is perhaps one of the most beautiful expressions of our giving and receiving  of one another as we are in Christ Jesus.  We are still fresh faces and spirits to each other, but a great vulnerability bonds us in the intimacy of joining at the table.  Stories and silences shared, lingering thoughts, laughter and lightheartedness, inviting questions call us to union and remind us that we are indeed food for one another.  And, while I still find myself very much in the midst of a time of transition, holding on and letting go, this new community invites me each day again and again to a richly laden table with a portion that not only expands my waistline, but grows my heart with affirmation and renewal in our being called together.  I truly embrace and find meaning in our crossing of paths, the unique combination of Katie, Kyle, Emily, and Kelli where God’s love is already being made known in new ways. I very much look forward to our walking together and choose growth and love in the journey.

-Kelli Nelson, Incarnate Word Missionary

When I started trying to prepare myself to live in my Peruvian IWM community, I really didn’t know where to start. I have lived in community before and it is something that is really important to me. It is also something that I still struggle with being intentional about. I was stressing out about what theologians I should brush up on that discussed community life (Maybe I could read some Dorothy Day??), what Bible passages I should read (Maybe the Gospels would help??), and what I should start trying to look forward to (What kinds of things will we do together?? Or talk about??). 

            Once we arrived in Lima on August 15, Kelli and Emily greeted us with huge hugs (and homemade name cards) at the airport. Their excitement and immediate openness was a wonderful impression of what the next month would be like living in community with them. Our community so far has been very energetic, hopeful, optimistic, and accepting. Every day it feels like we are learning more about each other, keeping each other present to the moment, and getting closer as a missionary family.

            One project we decided to do together is to turn one of the bedrooms in our house into a chapel. We decided as a group that we all wanted a space in our house reserved specifically for prayer and meditation. We are all looking forward to intentionally spending time together to create such a spiritually intimate place that we can all share.

Whether we are laughing over lunch, dancing in the kitchen, praying in our chapel, telling stories before bed, kneeling next to each other during mass, sharing our joys, sharing our worries, or just reflecting upon our day, we know that the other three are there to listen. In just one short month we have really come together as four individuals from different walks of life and formed our own little Peruvian family. Not to say there will not be challenges within this family in the future, but for now I have faith that with the foundation we are continuing to build, those challenges will just help to make us stronger.

I have learned that there is no way to prepare for community life. There are no books you can read or imagined scenarios that can tell you how to act and what to do. Every community has a different dynamic, a special spirit and energy about it that can never be planned for ahead of time. The best way to prepare for community is to realize you really can’t prepare at all, just to walk in with an open mind, open arms, and an open heart. What happens next will be a beautiful adventure.

          -Katie Langley, Incarnate Word Missionary

We’ve only been living in Chimbote together for about two weeks, but our house already feels like a home. It would only take a quick walkthrough to see all the signs of our new and growing community. Past the busy looking dry erase board by the front door and into the living room, Kelli’s ukulele lays on the table after a spontaneous music session with some of our friends. A bowl of change is close at hand on the bookshelf—for when a game of UNO turns into something a little more high-stakes. In the kitchen, four empty coffee cups sit drying in the drainer after an evening conversation. Next to the stove is the beat-up, earmarked cookbook splattered with tomato sauce. In the dining room, half the dinner table is a collection of papers and books, including some for the English classes taught twice a week, while the other half is reserved for sharing food and time. Straight up the stairs at the end of the hall, in what used to be a bedroom, is the freshly painted Incarnate Word symbol on the wall of our newly converted chapel. A dusty trail of, our cat, Fidea’s paw prints lead out to the second floor balcony where somebody’s clothes hang on the line. It’s difficult to describe how a community grows and much easier to see it taking place. Sometimes things get a little messy. At the end of the day though, as I’m making my way to my room, tired and happy, I’m glad that I can look around and see how lucky I am to be a part of it all.

          -Kyle Seymour, Incarnate Word Missionary

Home Is Where the Heart Is

By Angelique “Jelly” Snyder, IWM serving in San Antonio, Texas

Maya Angelou writes, “I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.”  This quote currently resonates very strongly with me.  This past July I finished a year of service with FrancisCorps in Costa Rica.  Costa Rica was my home for a year and it was terribly hard to leave that home: to leave the amazing people with whom I formed meaningful friendships with, to leave the 35 kids I worked with daily, and to leave my four fellow volunteers with whom I shared every joy as well as every struggle.  Upon my arrival into the United States, I spent two weeks in Syracuse, NY, being “disoriented” followed by a few days at the house of one of my fellow volunteers.  Afterwards, I stayed in San Antonio for two days for a wedding and then began my three-week orientation for Incarnate Word Missionaries.  While my time spent in training was enjoyable, especially thanks to my fellow missionaries, I was nevertheless restless to start my job and move in to my apartment, a place I hoped to make home. 

Visitation House, my current site, is a transitional living program for homeless women with children seeking to better their lives.  While living here, women make a commitment to study or work full time. The women that I was to work with were homeless for years, living in and out of friends or families’ places as well as shelters, ever vigilant to be sure a place was safe for their children.  While feeling sorry for myself as I lived out of my suitcase and transitioned frequently, I began to think of these women.  How could I even begin to complain about the places I was staying when I was welcomed by people who genuinely and wholeheartedly cared for me and my every need? On the other hand, the Visitation House women, many of whom were victims of domestic abuse as well as unable to speak English, have undoubtedly gone through tough times; yet, they are resilient and have worked hard to improve their lives.  Feeling for an evanescent time what these women perhaps felt for years, I was overwhelmed with gratitude.  I am blessed to have a family with whom I always feel at home.  I am blessed to have made a home wherever I have lived due to hospitable people.  I am blessed that I have never been truly homeless.  I am blessed. 

I have learned that home is not simply a concrete place you go to lie your head down; rather, it is a place where one’s mind is at rest.  Home is not merely a place to eat, but where meals and conversations are shared.  Home is where you make it and with the help of my supportive community, I am making Visitation House my new home.