My little buddy.

A bubble of spit dribbles down Jesus’ chin and soaks into his already damp bib as he struggles to fit his hand around the large rock I hold in mine. His right hand opens and closes in frustration, mimicking the motion his left hand refuses to make.

It’s the biggest rock he’s ever tried to pick up during our exercises and although he’s struggling, I know he can do it.

The soft-ball size stone is actually a chunk of brick made of dirt and sand that’s fallen off the knee high wall of an unfinished house where Jesus sits.

So really, it’s not as heavy as it looks.

The challenge is for Jesus to use his hand correctly.

We’ve only been using small stones for this exercise and he’s figured out a way to pick them up only using his fingers. He avoids using his thumb by pressing it into his palm.

His clever method technically gets the job done but he’s not gaining much in terms of motor skills.

He does get points for critical thinking.

I smile when he realizes the chunk of brick renders his four-fingered move useless.

He looks up and me and shakes his head, No.

“Yes, you can.”

No, he shakes his head again, smiling.

“Yes.”

He lowers his head and stares intently at his left hand. It shakes as he forces it open, his thumb jerking as it slowly begins to stretch. He places his thumb on the brick first and then wraps his fingers around it. His fingertips turn white under the pressure of his grip and he gradually lifts the rock out of my hand. The rock hovers in the air for a few seconds before it slips out of his grasp and thuds in the sand at our feet.

“See.” I say.

He raises his arms into the air, laughs and nods his head, Yea!

I pick him up off the recently built wall and sit him down on a nearby boulder to replace his shoe which I took off for his foot exercise.

The small community on the sandy hillside above Cambio Puente has changed a lot over the past months. Many families are in the middle of replacing their bamboo and estera houses with brick and mortar, and after seeing the aftermath of the fire in Chimbote, I’m glad. I just hope their squatters’ rights are honored and they’re not building in vain.

Jesus has changed a lot too. His hair is cut short and he’s gotten taller, making him look more like a young boy than a wild, long-haired toddler.

And he’s more curious now than ever.

I shake the sand out of his shoe before slipping it back onto his foot. It isn’t long after I start tying his shoe that he’s trying to grab the laces from my hands. He points to the laces then puts his hands on his chest, I want to do it.

“Okay, here you go,” I say as I hand them over.

After four or five tries and a few demonstrations, he’s able to get the “over-under” part down. I hear footsteps crunching in the sand nearby and look up to see his aunt walking by, smiling and shaking her head at what I’m showing Jesus. Now that this part of Cambio Puente is developing, some of Jesus’ extended family has moved to the area, meaning that I never find him home alone anymore.

I congratulate him for doing so well on his first try and quickly finish the job.

You’d think I was Harry Houdini the way he stares wide-eyed at my hands. He smiles and nods, That was cool.

In that moment, I realize how fortunate I am and also how much I take for granted. I’ve never realized how meaningful a simple act like being able to tie your own shoes can be. How much independence it gives you.

For his last exercise we sit on the boulder, side by side, and I begin to peel a mandarin. He gets excited and starts to reach for the fruit.

“Hey…” I say blocking his greedy hands with my elbow, and he quickly arranges his legs and puts his hands on his lap.

I hand him the first slice which he tries to grab with his right hand.

“Not that hand, Jesus. You already know.”

He smiles sheepishly knowing he wouldn’t get away with it. He carefully takes the slice in his left hand but drops it into the sand. The second and third slices follow suit.

“We’re not going to eat any of it.” I say and we both laugh.

His laughter is quickly replaced by a look of determination.

The fourth slice passes from his left hand, to his right and then into his mouth.

Juice squirts onto my arm as he chews. He laughs. Juice, spit and what looks like bits of his oatmeal breakfast run down my arm.

Without thinking, I wipe it onto his pant leg.

As he sits, happily eating another slice, I struggle with the fact that I wiped the juice onto his pants and not my own. The image of my sweaty Saturday morning of washing clothes flashes through my mind.

Still, I feel angry at myself, and more than a little guilty. I don’t know why. I know it isn’t that big of a deal. It’s just…moments like these make me realize what a long way I’ve got to go.

Later, before I realize what he’s doing, he hugs my knee. His soggy, oatmeal covered bib leaves a large slimy patch on my jeans.

I have to laugh.

I walk him back to his house where his aunt and younger sister sit de-kernelling dried corn. I look back once as I make my way down the hill to catch a car headed for Chimbote. Jesus, who is standing at the brick wall, waves with his left hand.

Kyle Seymour, Incarnate Word Missionary
Chimbote, Peru

“Convivencia”

“It´s always a party in Mexico,” or at least that´s what my mom says whenever I tell her about my week at the parish or the guardería. I should explain that the more correct term would be “convivencia.” The word “convivencia” comes from the verb “convivir,” a compound of “con” meaning “with” and “vivir” meaning “to live.” It may be a full-out party or it might just be a couple of the party elements of good conversation, good food, good song and good dance. Either way, convivencia, is the most important activity of any family, group of friends, or organization. The focus is spending time with one another to cultivate true friendship and love in any relationship, be it business or familial. It is about the quality of how we “live with” others.

I wanted to share some images of some of the convivencias we've been blessed with over the last few months. There have been many activities and causes to celebrate. In the face of US news coverage of killings in Mexico, a cultural focus on parties and celebrations may seem a bit contradictory. Yes, the situation of the drug war and violence in Mexico is tragic, and even with presidential elections less than a month away, national outlooks are bleak. However, thank God the story doesn't end there. In convivencia people live a determined resilience, refusing to forget the importance of one single birthday or holiday. I have learned from the value placed on time spent together, and in spite of all the reasons to despair about Mexico, that is where I find my hope.

APRIL

Holy Week Youth Group Mission to Hidalgo, Mexico- Emma and Ricardo with Hidalgo youth, Easter Vigil complete with balloons

Emma Buckhout, Incarnate Word Missionary
Santa Fe, Mexico City

Stories

I love stories.  Fiction, non-fiction, sci-fi, memoirs, fairytales.  You name it. I like it all.  Every story is unique and interesting and the more details, the better. One of the many blessings I've had this year includes hearing other people's stories.  The stories range from tall tales told by toddlers to fellow missionaries journeys to the stories of the mothers here at Visitation House.  Being homeless is not always a choice.  The women I have met did not choose to leave the home they knew and drastically change their lives.  Instead, they chose to give their children a safe place to live.  They chose to take a risk in the hope that their new environment would provide their children with more opportunities.  Their stories are full of struggles, challenges, despair and hope. They have embarked on new journeys, ones in which their destinations may still be unknown.  Nevertheless, they have made themselves vulnerable by opening up their lives and inviting me to walk with them, at least part of the way.

            While each women at Visitation House has shared with me a piece of her distinct story, one mother who is a fairly recent addition to the program, stands out to me. She has revealed herself through the depths of her story. Born in Mexico, Theresa has crossed illegally several times, once with three children all under the age of two.  Coincidently, she lived in South Bend, Indiana, the city just outside of the University of Notre Dame, where I attended college.  She lived there with her first husband who was abusive and controlling.  One day, without warning, he put her and her oldest son, only a few months old at the time, in their car and drove all the way down to San Antonio.  She thought they were on their way to the grocery store and when she pleaded with him to return home so she could at least get her things, he simply ignored her.  She finally went back home to Mexico after being raped and bearing two more children from this same man.  Wanting a safe and secure future for her family, she again crossed illegally back into the United States.  After finding a man she trusted and one who treated her well, she settled down in San Antonio and had three more kids.  However, her second husband began to abuse her as well.   She spent time in the Battered Woman's Shelter seeking refuge from her harsh home life before coming to Visitation House.  Her life has been no stranger to struggle.  Yet, she is one of the strongest women I have ever met.  Despite being illiterate when she arrived, she has worked diligently and enthusiastically to learn both conversational English and Spanish literacy.  Theresa takes pride and joy in learning and it is great to see her progress.  She is also caring and always puts the needs of her children above all else.  I admire her courage and her ability to love even in the most difficult of situations.  Her story is a model of how I should live my life, always giving with a smile on my face.  I trust that I will carry such stories with me well beyond my time at Visitation House. 

Angelique "Jelly" Snyder, IWM

Celebrating 25 Years of Lay Missionary Service

As many of you are aware the Incarnate Word Missionary Program is celebrating its 25^th Anniversary this coming July 2012.  In preparation for a year of celebrations in the various countries where missionaries have worked, we will start off this annual effort to increase the visibility of the Congregation and its charism by highlighting this ministry.  

Throughout this year we will explore and offer analysis of the changes that occurred within those who served, and the long-term impact these individuals have on their families and the Church.  All discussion will be grounded in the Congregation’s ongoing commitment to lay formation.

The brochure may be accessed on the CCVI website, by clicking the button below.  We look forward to seeing you during this celebration and getting to know again our former missionaries as they return to reconnect with each other and the Sisters they knew and worked with years ago.  





http://glt.amormeus.org/downloads/Missionary/IW%20Missionaries%20Brochure.pdf

Big Efforts and Small Steps for Change: G20 and the Global Crisis Workshop, Parroquia de la Asunción, Santa Fe, D.F.

The 20 nations with the biggest economies, the Group of 20, is meeting this June in Los Cabos, Baja California – far from the urban centres where they could be bothered by protests . . . or firebombed police cars, as happened in Toronto in 2010.  About a month and a half ago, I had the opportunity to attend an international forum at the Universidad Autónoma de Mexico on the “Global Crisis, G20 and Political Alternatives.”  It was excellent, but what was even more excellent were the connections I made with people in different parts of Latin America working for change.  There was even a speaker from Canada, my home country.  At the end, I met Andrés Peñaloza, a doctoral student of political philosophy.  He asked what I was doing in Mexico and I told him of my work in youth ministry, among the handful of other things I am involved in.  He immediately suggested that César, the young Salvadoran who spoke on the Global Crisis and Neoliberalism, come to our parish to speak to our youth group.  César works with an eclectic movement in Salvador called G-Sin Cuenta, or “G without number,” a play on the exclusionary nature of G8, G20 etc. 

César came to the parish in the next couple of days, but only a handful of youth and some of the theatre group could make it on such short notice.  However, it was definitely worth the effort.  Those that attended left awestruck and buzzing quietly about his talk on the global humanitarian, ecological, social, financial, food and resource crisis we are facing, caused by a voracious and insidious economic system: neoliberalism, and at its core, capitalism.   In his scant spare time, Andrés, runs a couple of non-profit organizations: Coalición Mexicana and Bia’lii, that does investigation on the global crisis.  He suggested we do a workshop at the parish about the global crisis and G20, commenting that we could even make a faith link.  So Emma and I went to meet with him, and he suggested that we have several speakers, but also an artist to paint during the course of the day, as well as for our theatre group to enact some points of interest or discussion.

Since most people in Santa Fe have never heard of G20, much less know what it is, our drama group decided to dramatize the impacts of G20 decisions and their neoliberal agenda.  In a couple of practices we came up with a mime to music piece and presented it six times before the taller, mostly at the Sunday masses.  A clean cut man in a suit comes out, briefcase in hand and removes the names of three countries excluded from the G20, rumples up the papers one by one and throws them on the ground.  He then empties his briefcase full of the names of all the other countries excluded from G20.  His face is half skeleton, half man.  Next, a lady resembling Vanna White comes out and puts a black grim reaper cape over him, and coordinates the placing of his hood with a crescendo in the music.

This is followed by three scenes depicting events that speak loudly to the people of Santa Fe: being fired and general unemployment, as well as the rising of prices of tortillas and gas so that one cannot pay for what they asked for.  Finally, the person representing G20 places a model maquila in front of the audience and puts his gas mask on to protect himself from the pollution. One by one the actors come out coughing, gasping and grabbing their chests and dying. The final character recognizes its G20 who is causing this and tries to grab him, just before he or she falls dead to the ground.  Still donning his WWII like gas mask; G20 goes before the audience as the music fades.  We announced about the taller and explained a little bit about G20, as well as handed out hundreds of flyers over a couple of days.  We even presented the skit at an event attended by about 400 people for Mother’s Day, just outside the church.

I was sure we would at least get 20 people coming to the workshop.  After all, it was about things that impacted their daily life, was free and included a lunch, as Andres suggested.  The lunch was the only payment he asked for.   As Emma and I had both been asked to speak at the event, we were up late Friday night . . . well, okay . . . morning, preparing our parts.  Miriam and Kirsten helped us make sandwiches the morning of and set up the room.

At 11 am, when it was supposed to start, only 2 people were there.  Not even the other speakers had shown up.  We didn’t end up starting until around 11:45.  Throughout the day, there were between 11 and 15 people.  I was quite disheartened.  Nevertheless, we made the event more personal, with everyone sitting in circle.  It became apparent that those who came were very interested.  First, we started with the trivia about G20 that Emma had prepared, and then Andrés spoke on the focal points of the G20 summit this year.  The drama group did a skit about the amount of money given to the Wall Street bankers in 2008: if you were to receive $1.00 USD every second of your life, you would have to live 32, 000 years to receive what was given the Wall Street bankers by the American government. 

Next Emma and I gave an overview of the protests, especially in Pittsburgh and Toronto.  We watched “The Story of Stuff” (http://www.storyofstuff.com/).   I followed that with a short talk on consumption, as the drive to have name brand clothing and the most innovative and expensive cell-phones in this economically depressed area is very apparent.  We had lunch and then continued with an ex-Jesuit seminarian who spoke on Faith and the Global Crisis and solidarity economics.  A Mapuche from Chile also spoke about his people’s cosmovision and the impacts of neoliberalism on his pueblo.  Finally, the Gringo nephew of Andrés spoke on Biblical passages about usury.  The few that attended were really interested, asking questions and making comments. Throughout this, a talented muralist, our friend, Marcos, worked away painting the vision he imagined from our discussions.  Andrés also asked our drama group to tape the skit we did at the taller and the one we did to advertise the event so he can upload it onto his webpage for the Coalición Mexicana frente el G20. 

We finished the day with a one word evaluation.  Some of the comments we got were, “Radical,” “Profound,” “Reflective,” “Creative,” “Excellent Exercise,” “Tara: Keep doing more workshops” as well as, “Profound, because it made me see that there are options for a better life without being a materialistic.”  One man felt that a few words were not enough; he stood up and gave the talleristas a 5 minute speech about how thankful he was for the taller and our commitment to this kind of work.  It was worth it.  I am reminded of a story I heard, even though I forget exactly who it came from.  It was about a mission group that went and put a lot of effort into preparing a retreat.  Only one person came, and as I was, the team was very disheartened.  Nevertheless, they worked with this one attendee.  The next year, they returned to the same site again.  Only this year, the attendee from the year before had organized her own retreat – which was attended by about 20 people.  Our little taller may not have been attended by many, but we were a valiant and important few who are charged to spread the word. 

Shedding discrete tears today at the amount of people begging and barefoot, or selling cheap junk in the metro of this “Unreal City,” and musing on the impending joke of a federal election, I realized that what I have to offer is only a minute fraction of what is really needed.  It is almost unperceivable.  As Oscar Romero says, “There is a freedom in that.”  But what if I didn’t do it? I can’t even begin to think about that; it would be a spiritual death for me.

Tara Hurtford, Incarnate Word Missionary

Santa Fe, Mexico City, Mexico

Updates from Bukoba, Tanzania

I ate my first bowl of fried grasshoppers yesterday.  A missionary sister from Uganda, who runs the Catholic bookstore, and befriended us, offered them to me.  It is an insult not to take food from a local, so that's the story on that! They are available 2X/year in May and October. The locals were selling big bags of them in town on the street.

Can't say I am looking forward to October.

Plan to move into a house this Saturday May 12^th – at least Saturday looks like move in day. The landlord is finishing a few minor fixes and the house should be ok.   It is small, 2 bedrooms, but 3 baths in the house and new. The rent is a little more than we were expecting to pay, but we will not need night guards or dog/s, and the rent includes utilities, so it is a push on total costs. We are close to town and in a safe area. There is a marine police station 1 block away and the walls/security gates around the house are really good.

We had our eye on another place outside of town which was not finished yet. We took Regina out to see it and she said we might have a security issue because it was an open area and the walls were not completed.  We liked it because of the open area and it was next to a retreat/seminar house owned by The Sisters of St. Teresa.  But, they were not living there and had no plans to move soon. There was also a brand new (unoccupied, not finished hospital) on the grounds.

We are happy that we took Regina's advice.

Karen and I have given a lot of thought to why we have been given so many blessings and good fortune on our journey over the past 30 months.  Even the association with IWM Program came out of the blue one day and was one of the many blessings.  Finding a good Christian couple to care for our business at the last minute (the original couple quit 3 weeks before we departed for Africa) was a major item. The list is very long.  Thinking back to our original decision to move to Africa and do Mission work, we knew nobody who could help us or give guidance, but made the decision and faced each issue with confidence that God will direct & protect us.

Some may say this is God’s Providence yet for us it is that we feel God's presence and guidance in our decisions.  Both of us pray a lot that we are doing His will and accept His will no matter what the outcome.  When we face a difficult issue, we don't hesitate in moving into the unknown and place our trust in Him.

Daily mass, daily rosary, bible study, religious readings, and other religious practices were significant for us, yet remained add-ons to our lives.  Then something happened about 3 years ago in our relationship with God.  We have always been practicing Catholics but the richness of our Church and Faith was revealed to us for unknown reasons. This change has brought us a sense of real peace and love of others.  In this we find God’s presence – the Incarnation of Jesus in our lives and all whom we meet.

 Some examples are:

·         I was president of our local chamber for 12 years and could not find a replacement who would take the job for 8 of those years. We knew this had to be done and prayed very hard about it. One day it struck me who to ask and he agreed.

·         Language school issues, housing issues, visa issues, financial issues, vehicle issues, health issues, family issues etc. the list is long but we feel His presence in each outcome.

·         Oh, I just thought of another example. The man who has really helped us here sort of fell into our lap because of asking around about housing. He is a very devout Muslim, but respects all religious affiliations and has treated us like family in giving us advice and translating the negotiations with the landlord who is a devout Catholic but speaks very little English. Only one reason for this and it is His presence again!

Yesterday, we met the committee chairpersons (about 25) of BUWEA at their meeting in town with Regina. Karen gave a really nice talk in Kisawili. I was very proud of her. She got much applause from the women.

We are busy getting stuff we need for the house like linens, kitchen supplies, blah, blah...

A few days ago we drove up to where the new soy flour manufacturing building is going up. The road (not really a road, more of a path) to it is a nightmare but Regina says the govt. will work on it when the rain stops.  By the way it has rained every day.  Anyway, the building is large and about 60% completed. Regina and her organization should be really proud of it.

Reflections from Incarnate Word Missionaries in Peru

LIBERATION THEOLOGY COMMENTARY:

Kyle Seymour

What is liberation theology? Until recently, I didn’t really know. As a young Catholic I’d definitely heard of it, but only in passing. When I did hear the term it was almost always along with words like “radical” and “extreme” or “communist” and “Marxist.” I felt like the kid sitting in the back of the class, then, when I joined Incarnate Word Missionaries and it seemed like it was a regular part of everyone’s vocabulary, if not a crucial part of their formation. I was forced to re-examine everything I thought I knew about it. Although I felt, at first, that I was behind the curve, I realized that while I may not have been familiar with Gustavo Gutierrez, his Theology of the Oppressed, or things like Christian Base Communities, I can say that I am familiar with the foundation of liberation theology.

When Jesus returned to Nazareth and stood in the synagogue to preach he was handed a scroll from Isaiah. Of all the scripture he could have chosen, he “unrolled the scroll and found where it was written:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

 Of all the things Jesus could have chosen to speak about, he not only chose this passage from Isaiah, he also proclaims himself as the fulfillment of it. How did Jesus define himself in front of the crowd in Nazareth?

He makes it very clear why he was sent, therefore why we too are here: To bring good news to the poor, release the captives, restore the sight to the blind and to free the oppressed.

Wait…how are we possibly expected to achieve these things?

Well, how did Jesus fulfill these things?
            He acted.

He went to where the poor were and told them that they were the heirs to the kingdom. He spat in his own two hands, formed clay and healed the man of his blindness. He freed the lepers who were oppressed by society by entering into their communities and curing them.

Following the logic of Jesus then, it is our duty to do the same.

We act.
            To live out our Christian faith, we must go out to where the poor are to take them the good news. We must be his healing hands, right here, right now. We must challenge the structures which oppress.

That’s what I believe, anyway. As it turns out, I’ve been a follower of liberation theology for a good while without even knowing it.

Katie Langley

I heard a lot about Liberation Theology in college, especially having gone to a Jesuit school (Sobrino, Gutierrez, Romero, and the Jesuit martyrs were all popular topics in class). I always felt that theology classes were over my head, but the theology of liberation was something I finally felt like I could understand and identify with. The idea of solidarity with the poor and Jesus’ life being centered on social and economic injustice just makes sense. Of course Jesus was actively opposed to the oppression and marginalization of the poor, the rejected, the exploited, and the sick. And of course we should seek justice in the same way.

            I think the whole idea of living in a developing country through a calling from Christ is the first step to living out liberation theology. To sacrifice your comfortable first world reality for one of poverty is something so important for everyone to experience. And it isn’t just going to “do for” the people (build a house or donate some clothes), but to “be in solidarity with” the people. How can one truly act against unjust social structures and poverty if you have no idea what struggles the poor are experiencing??

            I am not saying that by living in Chimbote, Peru for 2 years I have liberation theology figured out and I am doing some amazing thing by doing this. In fact, the more I stay the more I realize how much I contribute to the oppression of the third world daily – by how I use water, to the clothes I buy, to the food I eat, and further. I do however know that living in Chimbote has made the theology of liberation something very real to me in a way that it couldn’t be in a classroom. Why is the town 3 hours south of us being destroyed by U.S. capitalist mining companies?? Why are my Hospice patients dying of cancer simply because chemotherapy and medications are economically out of the question for them?? How is it ok for 300 Peruvian families to become displaced and homeless because the government decided to bulldoze down their squatter community after 10 years?? And who is going to counteract this injustice if WE don’t do it?? Jesus Christ would be on the forefront of action for liberation and justice for the poor, but since Christ isn’t walking around physically right now, WE are called to be Christ’s hands in the world. If something affects the poor, it affects you, me, and all of us. It isn’t just about the afterlife, but justice here and now on Gods EARTHLY kingdom.

            In order to be true Christians, we have to try and live as Christ lived. In order to truly strive to achieve this, we need to struggle alongside of the poor and experience, as much as we can, solidarity with them. We have to try to see the world as the poor see the world and ask the questions:  WHY is it like this? and WHAT can we do about it in the name of Christ? I can’t buy Chemo treatments for all of my Hospice patients, but I can clean their wounds, pray with them, cry with them, and tell everyone I know about them so other people start asking “why” too. It is our duty as Christians to bring justice and social equality to all.

Emily Ruskamp

We often associate liberation theology with ideas like revolution, martyrdom, and subversion.  And rightfully so, for in many countries where it has been put into practice, the level of oppression and violence toward the poorer class was such that an authentic Catholic faith demands radical denouncement and active opposition of the oppressing class.  But what does liberation theology look like in a community not so blatantly ravaged by oppression and violence?  I believe it is here that we truly discover the core of a theology of liberation, because accompaniment with the poor is by its nature neither glamorous nor dangerous in the Oscar Romero sense that it´s obtained.  What were the Jesuits doing in El Salvador before the violence elevated to such high levels that they were killed?  I imagine that it was a lot like what we strive to live like as missionaries.  It means giving importance to people who aren´t used to feeling important, accepting hospitality from people who are made to think they have nothing to offer, choosing to live with less in a culture that tells us we need more.  And this can often feel mundane, boring, and normal… but within moments that seem unimportant, we can teach each other that we deserve to be treated with dignity, that our voice matters, and that God does not desire our suffering at the hands of injustice.  If that sounds like radicalism, it´s because we´ve fallen too far into the trap of consumerism and selfishness.  No, what we do is live a pretty normal life.  The only thing different is that in all actions on all levels, we strive to think first not of ourselves, nor of our comfort, our safety, or our interests, but of those who are suffering most in our community and how they will be affected.  Walking together with those suffering the most, we live out a theology of liberation.

Kelli Nelson

The concept of a theology of liberation can mean very little without lived exposure or eye/ear witness to real stories of those disenfranchised, marginalized, and forgotten by those of mainstream society.  And, especially coming from a 1^st world country where we live in large numbers lives that are comfortable and don’t necessarily come in contact with the struggles of those elsewhere in the world, it can seem very foreign.  The term came to existence for me in my university studies, and part of my motivation for coming here was an exhaustion of merely having the theory, which propelled a longing and restlessness for more…a real taste so to speak of what it means to seek justice from the bottom up and not the top down as is the norm. 

Being here in Chimbote has inspired endless questions to live and ask each day, as the effects of our country’s actions and economics so obviously impede with life here.  We are so not living in right relationship with our brothers and sisters, and if we continue living as we are the polarization will only widen.    I think that liberation theology calls us to live in relationship with all creation, to really know and understand the impact that our choices have on others, and to seek Christ in others living out a radical love that knows no boundaries.  It is empowerment and the upholding of a deserving inherent dignity of all, working together, allowing others to flourish and the opportunity to make moral decisions.  I work in a neighborhood where corruption rules, which leads to corruption and more corruption.  For example, the other day, one of my clients reported the abuse of her neighbor’s child by the mother, but was afraid for her life that “friends” of the mother would come after her.  There, if you’re not “in with” the corrupt, you are the corrupt, and you become the target.  And, this is not only in existence in one neighborhood, it’s all over.  People silenced by fear.  I ask, “How can a country, a people, grow and develop with so much corruption? And, how can we give people the opportunity or choice to do good?”  More and more I see that it starts small, on the personal level, at the heart.  It is spiritual. It is in forming loving relationships, telling real stories that move, that reveal, that empower, that transform and connect, and in turn give hope and inspire change.  I imagine a world where we all walk around with Jesus’ “I am with you” servant attitude seeing each and every person as a member of our family; Peace fills my heart and the truth feels that much closer.  Serving, connecting with, and working alongside my neighbors here is just the start…

Greetings from Tanzania!

Thought it was time to check in and give an update on our current plans.

Over the past several weeks we concluded the process of purchasing a car. It wasn't the easiest endeavor undertaken. It took 3 attempts to be successful.  We made the decision to find a vehicle after our visit to Bukoba and experiencing the topography and climate. It is very hilly and very rainy. Plan "A" was to live in town and walk a lot. This is not practical plus we will need transport to villages etc.

So we found a small 4wd, 4 cyd, Mitsubishi in good shape in the city of Mwanza, about 4 hrs. from here by bus. The process was incredibly rewarding as it was the hand of God guiding it. Will explain the details when we get together.  Here is what the car or "gari" may or may not look like:

This is our last week of school. We are leaving on Saturday (1 week early) but won't miss any important lessons. We will stop in Mwanza on the way to Bukoba to get new tires and a few little items repaired.

Regina, Rachael, & Polina recently have emailed us good news. They said our visas arrived back in Bukoba yesterday from Dar Es Salaam, so if they are the right permits, we are now ok. Won't know for sure till we get there and look at them.

Next priorities for us are to find suitable housing and open a local bank account in Bukoba. Regina/Rachael are supposed to show us some possibilities plus  another gent whom we met on our visit, has some options. Our objective is to be settled within a couple of weeks.

We feel comfortable but not fluent yet in Kiswahili and truly believe these past 4 months have been most rewarding/enjoyable/difficult. Take your pick!  We now are turning our attention to the true purpose of our Mission that of service.

During the past months, Karen & I have discussed what our priorities should be with BUWEA and how we can best serve them. They honestly have significant accomplishments with little guidance from outside influences. We are comfortable knowing that we can offer substantive help in a number of ways, but plan on having Regina set our agenda initially. We still have a learning curve to traverse with Regina and the rest of the organization. So, for the first several months, we will be absorbing and contributing where we can.

We are looking forward to our arrival in San Antonio for the Orientation, meeting all the new missionaries and the Sisters.  See you all on the Wednesday June 27th, God willing.

Frank and Karen Wimbush, Incarnate Word Missionary Candidates

Comments from UIW student

Blogs for April 2, 2012

Summertime Blog:

            Summertime in Texas is unforgettable. You have your days where it’s the “it feels great outside” heat and then you have your “I am not going to survive today because its so hot” heat, the weather here can definitely throw you for a loop. Although we do stress about the weather I do take the time out of my everyday life to see the things that god has created and I am thankful for being able to be an American and have the things that I have. To be set out of you comfort zone and to be okay with it is a great feeling especially when you’re doing your ministry. Keep up the good work!

UIW Student

Ashley Escobedo

Mongu, Zambia Blog:

            Wow your journal entry is truly inspirational Nicole, your doing such wonderful things out there! Your simple acts of kindness are leading to better things, being able to “teach” underprivileged kids and also being a nurse to people who can go to for care and help is wonderful. Being able to live your everyday life, as what used to be probably out of your comfort zone is now something you can’t get enough of and being able to see how different cultures live is such a wonderful experience. May God bless you and the families and definitely keep up the great work!

UIW Student

Ashley Escobedo

Updates from Tanzania

Habari - Greetings,

Here is some information about Language School and the area where we are staying: 

·         The Catholic Diocese of Musoma has a large piece of property on Lake Victoria which includes Epheta Retreat Center, which is operated by Franciscan Friars;

·         the Seminary for young men in high school is located next to the retreat center,

·         the Language School is next door to the Novitiate and Mother House, where the outdoor Stations of the Cross are located.  There is an artist named Ndege who has painted several murals on these properties.  By the way, ndege is Swahili for bird and airplane. 

In the pictures Frank is in front of the mural on the outside of the church at Epheta.  The Franciscan priest in the mural on the right is now stationed in Rome, but his brother is a Franciscan Brother still at Epheta.  The large mural is in the Chapel at the Language School.  Many missionaries come to the school to learn Swahili, so the mural represents missionaries from many countries to go forth and spread the Gospel.  There are also paintings by the same artist on the outdoor Stations of the Cross at the Novitiate, next door to the Language School. There is a painting by the same artist in the dining room of the Language School; he has managed to capture the local spirit of the people.  Also, since we are in Lent we are posting two of the beautiful Stations of the Cross outside the school.

After our trip to Bukoba, we have been back at the study routine and school schedule.

The visit with Regina, Rachael, and Polina couldn't have been better. We have a good sense about the activities of BUWEA and can see where our contributions would be helpful. So, we are anxious to get settled there. Besides Regina, there is one other person looking for suitable housing for us. We are optimistic with initial reports from this other person.  Bukoba is totally different than here, having more of a hilly terrain and significantly more rain in the wet season. It is also much cooler; we saw winter coats for sale....go figure!

Regina is an absolute delight and we are having some very productive visits with her.  Her English is better than many of our fellow students in language school, who speak English as a second language.  Today we went to the BUWEA office and tomorrow we will see some of the projects, as well as have a tour of Bukoba. 

As you look at the photos you will see the progress on the future soy processing factory.  In the one where everyone is single file Frank and the women are going to check out the water supply that will service the factory.

The visa issue is still a work in progress. We had to get an extension as a student here at school which was not in our plan, but we can get over it.

These 4 months here are well worth the effort as it will give us a better foundation not only with the language but with the culture. Part of the curriculum here is learning the culture.   We are adding some photos of the wonderful aftrenoons we spend with the orphans here.

So, that's it from Musoma TZ.  We pray that all of you in San Antonio are well.

Blessings,

Frank & Karen Wimbush, IWM Candidates

Notes from Peru on family: our own and our adopted one

On Sunday, March 18, the Peruvian government issued a presidential decree that it would come down much more harshly on informal mining. Later that day, hundreds of men and women who work in informal mining got together all over the country to voice their opinion, which, in Peru, means going on strike.  This time, it meant blocking the Pan-American Highway in a town about 2 hours south of Chimbote, thus restricting any travel whatsoever to the capital, Lima, from anywhere in the northern part of the country.  Normally, it wouldn’t phase me too much as I really spend most of my time in Chimbote, but this time I was especially grateful for the strike.  I happened to have a visit from two people that I love very much, and because of restricted travel, they spent a whole extra day in Chimbote. Yes, my parents have now experienced cuy, anticuchos, crazy taxi drivers, dust upon dust upon dust, hand-washing, 24-hour cars honking and dogs barking, the delicious odor of the fish factories, Peruvian rice, fresh maracuyá juice, the sparkling waves of the Bay of Chimbote, the serenity and poverty and diversity of the agricultural zones surrounding the city, cold showers, ceviche AND chicarrón de pescado (yum!), Peruvian hospitality, and lots of others things that make up my daily life… (by the way, if there are words above that you don’t understand, that means you need to come visit Peru!)  But most of all, we got to hang out, catch up, get to know each other again (I’m only begin to discover all the characteristics I’ve inherited from them), have fun, laugh, talk about God and a little about politics (but not too much, ha-ha), and as my dad said, just “be.”  And as my mom commented, meeting the people of Peru is much more meaningful than seeing even the most beautiful sites.  Many people know the richness of Peru by its gold, beaches, jungle, mountains, and ancient ruins.  But both my parents agreed that visiting a family member living abroad is really the way to travel, because they got to see that the real richness of Peru is in its people, and you don’t need a packed site-seeing itinerary to realize that.

Emily Ruskamp, Incarnate Word Missionary

So often I get bombarded with questions from friends, family, acquaintances:  What do you miss the most?  Is there a food from home that you are just dying to eat?  Where do you want to visit when you get home?  What do you want to do?  Personally, I don’t get too caught up on missing food items (the food is actually quite amazing, fabulous, I can’t believe I haven’t gained a billion pounds here kind of good), or material comforts, and these days I’m actually not even delving into what I might possibly do when I return to the States other than being with family…the ones I love like crazy, miss the most, and who give me the greatest support.  I want to hug them, love them up, and share stories in person.  They are who I miss the most!

My parents and I have a phone date every Sunday night to catch up and chat about the latest happenings both here and back home.  Whoever answers the phone can expect a little chat with my dad before passing it on (we all get a kick out of this!).  We share reflections on day-to-day activities, challenges, celebrations, and so much more.  I’ve come to really love this tradition of ours because I feel that they are very closely walking with me and I with them…We’ve always been really close and before leaving for Peru I was worried about being away from them for so long, but they’ve been so great in terms of staying connected.  Sharing my Peruvian life with them with their encouragement and interest is a huge blessing that means the world to me.  They love and appreciate Rita and Julio (my Peruvian adopted parents) just as much as I do, they question about my housemates like they were their own kids, our friends, my co-workers, and the sisters I work with like they’re here.

I revel in the beauty of my expanding family that is both Peru and Isanti, MN through our sharing.  And, the wonder of this expanding notion of family, or home is that it’s always with us wherever we go and always growing the more and more we let others in and continue weaving the story.  So, I guess with this, I want to say thank you to family!

Kelli Nelson, Incarnate Word Missionary

I am an only child. As a result of this, while I was growing up all of my parent’s attention was on me. I got all of the praise but also all of the lectures, all of the joy but also all of the worry. Growing up as an only child was something I always enjoyed (I do like my alone time a lot, and I am very close to my mom and dad) but never thought too much about. After being here in Chimbote, where it is normal for a family to have 6 children (and live with their parents until they are 35), I am often asked how many brothers and sisters I have, and every time it is the same response….

Other person: So how many brothers and sisters do you have??

Me: None, I am actually an only child.

Other person: (Huge gasp) Seriously?? Really?? Wow, your parents must really have a hard time with you being here. I would never let my only child go to another country. (Another gasp). REALLY?? I can’t believe it. Wow. You must miss them a lot too after having all of their attention for your whole life.

And so I go on smiling and laughing and nodding, while inside thinking “Actually, yeah, it is really hard to be away from my parents who are also two of my best friends.” And I know it was really hard for my parents to let me come also (thanks again mom and dad for letting me follow this missionary vocation!! I love y’all).

What I have found in this vulnerability though, is a whole new source of family here in Peru. Every morning Señora Flor and Señora Cata make me hot coffee and a warm breakfast roll before I leave to go out into the community for Hospice. I have lunch with my three other amazing community mates where we share funny stories and doubts and sadness and joy. I kiss my cat between the ears before snuggling down with her for a nap. I am greeted by the smiling faces of the old couple that run the corner store that I visit every evening to buy bread. I give a big hug to Axel, the 4 year old boy next door, and lift him up in my arms and spin him before walking into our house. When I am sick, Kelli makes me soup, Emily makes me laugh, and Kyle sits with me in the clinic for hours by my side. At the end of the day, we sit on my bed and read a story or recount our days before saying “Buenas noches!!” and crawling into bed.

I would have to say that while nothing will ever compare to my family back home, these people have a very special place in my heart. And while I know I am not their “only”, I know I have a special place in theirs as well.

Katie Langley, Incarnate Word Missionary

Emily’s parents visited us here in Chimbote making this past weekend pretty fun for all of us. We don’t have people visit us often, so when they do we really enjoy it. Emily’s parents were great. They spent time with all of us, took us out to eat, helped make some home improvements and even shared some embarrassing family stories about Emily. It was nice to have family visit, even if it wasn’t my own.

During their visit, my family coincidentally celebrated all our March birthdays with one big event in Brownsville, Texas. I was able to be with them, and not just in spirit. If it weren’t for Skype, I would have heard about how great it was after the fact, over the phone or by email. Instead, I was able to see and, kinda, talk to everyone.

Even though I may have just been a floating head passed around the party, and even though the sound quality was pretty bad, and even though I couldn’t have any of the boiled crawfish they’d cooked up, it was worth it just to see everyone. My mom and Uncle Andy stood in front of the screen once I logged on. Then I saw my aunt Brenda cooking in the kitchen, my cousins talking in the background. My grandma said hi and I got to talk to my aunts Ofie and Carmen. Then my uncle Len pointed to a table full of boiled seafood saying, “You missed one heck of a meal.” After getting to see pretty much everyone there and talk to some of them I was able to join them all in singing happy birthday to the birthday group which included my dad. Although it wasn’t the same as actually being there, it’s the closest I’m getting to a family reunion for the next two years. Emily’s parents visiting made me realize how much I missed mine, but being able to Skype with my family made me realize that I don’t have to miss out on everything just because I’m far from home.

Kyle Seymour, Incarnate Word Missionary

Ash Wednesday

This Ash Wednesday we had 832 people come to our house to receive ashes on their forehead.  We have a chapel attached to our house.  The chapel used to be normal church size, but when the city widened the road from two to four-lanes, they cut the chapel so that it is now only about 15-20 feet deep.  It still is on a busy street and is open for Eucharistic adoration every Thursday.  People stop by outside daily, mid-walk, to pray and/or light a candle.  The doctor down the street from us donates flower arrangements in the shape of animals: lions, bears, butterflies, dogs, cats, etc to decorate the area.  Other people leave their flower donations outside, or push them through the small opening people use to leave candles. 

On Ash Wednesday, the youth group came over and from 10am-8:30pm we opened the chapel doors and gave out ashes to whoever stopped by.  Micro-bus drivers would stop outside, rush out, get their ashes, and then rush back into their bus to continue their route.  Other bus drivers going in the opposite direction would stop their buses and motion out the window for us to come to them to give them ashes in their bus.  People came from everywhere, some mid-walk, others purposely coming to our chapel to receive ashes. 

Altogether we gave out ashes to 832 people, while other places in the city gave out hundreds more.  After mass Ash Wednesday, the blessed ashes and little buckets for donations were sent out to different parts of the barrio.  There are capillitas, little shrines, everywhere around here.  People from the church took the blessed ashes and set up little tables next to the shrines and were giving out ashes for the day.  One shrine close to where Emma and I work gave ashes to over 500 people, and they were just on a street corner leading down a hill.  The faith of both the people giving, as well as receiving ashes, still puts me in awe.

Kirsten Kyle, Incarnate Word Missionary
Santa Fe, D.F., Mexico