Abram's List

When people here ask me what my job was back home, I have a pretty standard answer; it goes a little like this:

“Era la niñera por el chico más precioso del mundo.”

(I was a nanny for the most precious child in the world).

It’s a pretty strong statement, and it’s also kind of a lie.  In reality, I was a nanny for several equally wonderful children; and furthermore, I don’t know every child in the world, so I don’t have the credentials to make this claim.

However, when I do make this statement, I’m usually referring to one little boy in particular- Abram.

Abram!

Hmm yes, that’s not exactly fair, but let me try to explain it.  I’m not playing favorites; he’s just very, very special.  For one, he’s two and a half, which is a great age for so many reasons.  And for another, he has a “list”.

The first couple of days I was watching Abram, I was a little confused about this “list”.  You see, he would just stop in the middle of what he was doing and start naming people.

“Mama, Daddy, Eden, Kodi, Donna…”  and the list goes on.

It took me awhile to realize it, but I finally understood that he was just stopping, and naming the people he loves.

You have to agree with me- that has to be one of the most precious things you’ve ever heard of, right?

While I’ve been here, and while I was preparing to leave, I’ve been surrounded by a tremendous amount of support and love and generosity.  I felt it before I left, and I feel it all the time now- whether it’s through messages I get from home or from fellow Yagms around the globe, through prayers, or through the new people who have become my community here.  Being away from the familiarity of this season is hard, but it is made easier by this web that has been spun around me by all the people I am blessed to know.  This Christmas season, I wanted to come up with a way to show my gratitude to all of you, and the most sincere thing I can come up with is this:

I feel like Abram.  At any given point of any given day, I just want to stop and name you all, and name out loud how grateful I am that this list continues to grow.

You are all on my “Abram’s List”.  Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.

Abrazos,

Kari

Something Awesome.

Something awesome happened Monday, and I really want to tell you about it.

But I have to tell you a few other things, first, so you can fully appreciate the awesomeness.

At the Obra (my placement site), there are various workshops for the kids.  One of these workshops is health, and it takes place on Mondays. Recently they’ve been learning about the environment, and as a part of this, they decided as a class to clean up the public plaza that’s across the street from the Obra. 

So, they went over with sticks and garbage bags and picked up the trash, but then they decided they could go even further.  One kid had the idea to collect old plastic soda bottles from the neighborhood around the Obra, fill them with colored water, and then plant them around the lamp posts.  It actually looked quite nice.

See? It's pretty.

Since this plaza is a public plaza, the rest of the neighborhood was free to benefit from this beautifying project.  Unfortunately, this also means that a few of the kids in the neighborhood were able to dig up and break these plastic bottles.  Some of the kids from the Obra found the broken bottles the next day, and with much urgency, marched them back the Obra and asked a teacher what they could do about it.  Well, the culprits were tracked down, and you know what the teachers did?

(This is where the real awesomeness starts.)

They went up to those kids and said, “Listen!  This is your plaza, too.  You’re going to join us next Monday, and we’re all going to paint that old bus stop together!”

So, on Monday, those of us from the Obra walked over to the plaza, paintbrushes and paints in hand, and met the kids who had previously uprooted the beautifying project.  Then, both groups of kids worked side by side, asked for each other’s opinions, and created this fantastic mural together.

Check out that team work!

…I guess that’s it.  It was just really, really cool- that idea of reacting to destruction with collaboration and creation.

 And I just thought you all might like to know about that.

I, for one, got really into it.

“Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.”  -Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Each day at the community center where I’m placed, we share merienda with the kids at around five o’clock.  I hadn’t heard of it before arriving, but basically it’s the third meal of the day and usually consists of bread, yogurt and a fruit.  I was mildly confused by it at first, it seemed like it was turning dinner into “fourth meal”, but I’ve come to embrace it.

Each Tuesday and Thursday, we take the kids via bus to a pool for swimming lessons.  They’re divided into two groups, and the younger kids go first, have their lessons first, return to the community center first, and eat merienda first.  The older half of the kids follow suit.

A couple of weeks ago, while at the pool, one of the 10 year old girls from the older group called me over (I know it’s wrong to have favorites, but this girl happens to be one that I’m especially fond of).  She told me her stomach really hurt, and was near tears as she was telling me.  So I asked what she’d eaten that day.

“Nada.” She said.

“You haven’t eaten anything, all day?”

“No, nada.” 

She asked if she could go back earlier with the first group and arranged with one of the teachers to do so.  But, I really didn’t know what to say to her.   It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and she’d eaten nothing all day.  I just gave her a hug and rubbed her back and told her to go ahead with the rest of the group.

I lagged behind with the stragglers of the younger group, and rushed with them to meet up with the rest of the group who were now waiting at the bus stop to return.  As we approached, I saw that my friend, who had eaten nothing all day, was busy combing and fixing the hair of a 7-year-old girl.  She was patiently and gently untangling a knot that had found its way into the little girl’s hair during the swimming lessons.  Then, she made sure the younger kids all got on the bus before she boarded.

She hadn’t eaten all day.  Her stomach hurt so badly she’d cried.  And then she’d cared for the little kids.  Patiently and kindly, putting their needs before hers. 

My year here is about others- it’s about learning and caring and community.  But when things are still new to me and the language isn’t 100% clear to me, I forget and I often think of myself, first.  When I’m hungry, I can let it be my excuse for not giving as much of myself in whatever I’m doing. 

We have these basic needs- food, clothing, shelter.  They are instilled in our brains and in our ways of maneuvering our lives as the most important things.  But we also have this incredible need to be cared for and to care for others.

I didn’t tell you the name of my friend in this story, and this is why:  I don’t want her name to be associated with something you think of as starving, or as struggling.  I don’t know how often it happens that she doesn’t eat until we share merienda, I don’t know how many of the other kids I see every day wait to eat until five in the afternoon.  I don’t know if this whole not eating thing was some fluke and rarely happens to any of them.  I just know that she showed me, completely unintentionally, that as humans, we not only hunger for food, but we also hunger for interdependence and companionship. And a simple, small action can fulfill that need.  I think this girl could be anyone, for any of us.  Whether it’s a warm hug from a good friend, or a stranger stopping to hold the door; these small gestures can sustain us in times of need.

Once, I heard a Hurricane Katrina survivor talk about being trapped on his roof after the flood.  He said, “I was up there with my little dog, and I looked at him and said- ‘If I can just take care of you, I’m going to be all right.’”

Sometimes that lesson is best explained to us through the action of a child.

Go Big or Go Home.

I got sick here.  Well, I just got better, actually.  Here’s how it happened.  Three weeks ago my body was like, “BAM Kari, you’re in Uruguay and I don’t know what to do about it!” So, I got the flu.  And I went to the doctor.  And it was really overdramatic and involved a fever and missing an outing with the kids at work and people coming to check on me and I really wasn’t that sunshine-y during all of this. 

After about 5 or 6 days I was under the impression I was better.  And I was pretty pumped to be moving away from these sick days.  And then, about a day later my body went, “you know what, Kari, go big or go home.  And right now you’re not technically at home, so BAM again.”   And then I had all these awesome cold symptoms like conjunctivitis and a possible ear infection and a cough that didn’t let anyone in this building sleep.  It was great.

**Short interjection here to give you a little cultural lesson.  People here drink mate.  All the time. 

(Above: People sharing mate)

See that little metal straw?  It’s called a bombilla.  When you drink mate, you share.  You pass it around the circle and you all join in this collective experience of the sharing this age-old beverage.  It’s quite lovely, really and a wonderful reflection on community.  But for our benefit, I’ll cut this short and just let you know- we all drink from the same bombilla- which means that most of the other people I live with were coming down with some sort of cold-like symptom as well.

All except Erin, my fellow YAGM volunteer.  She was flying high, taking good care of all of us, you know, living the dream so to speak.  Then, Sunday morning she woke up to find out that her body had also gone “OMG URUGUAY!” and she’d come down with something, and it really wasn’t great.  We sent her back to bed to recover and the rest of us went to the church service.  The pastor asked where Erin was, and when we explained she had a fever, we found out a member of the congregation was a doctor (she was drinking mate during the service, just as a side note).  After the service, she came upstairs and examined Erin.  Erin’s body clearly wanted to make the biggest impression here, so it had given her some lovely sort of strep-throat type illness.   Eventually the doctor got Erin all set up with antibiotics and let us know we could call any time day or night.  

The doctor also helped me out, and came by to check out my various attractive symptoms.

But here’s the really cool part, and the actual point of this entry.  The doctor came by for the next few days to check on us.  First, she came with her doctor materials and examined us.  Next, she brought me cough syrup; Erin antibiotics; and both of us dinner.  More than that, she’s an extremely friendly and comfortable person.  So she doesn’t just bring the physical things, she brings a smile and encouraging words that let us know it’s ok to be a little homesick and that we shouldn’t feel bad asking her for help.

At the end of that week, as I was brushing my teeth, I thought I heard a familiar voice.  I went in the common room to find a friendly couple from the congregation.  They’d come to check up on us, too.  The women asserted, “When the doctor told me it was both of you who were sick, that’s when I said, that’s it! I’m going to see them and I’m bringing cake!”

And she did bring cake.  And it was awesome.  More importantly, they stayed for a while and talked to us, and invited us to their house anytime, because they knew it had to be hard for us to be away from everyone back home.

So, I learned about community.

Going to the doctor at home isn’t that fun.  Having a wonderful lady come to see you and bring you food? That’s better.  Having her let other people in our new community know about us?  That was pretty cool as well. 

So, you know what, body?  I’m not really that mad at you.  You made me realize how nice people here are, you made me realize we're interconnected.  But, just one thing- next time you want to pull a stunt like this, just remember this is my home now, so try not to go too big.  Thanks. 

This story is not about Uruguay

This story is not about Uruguay.  This story is about my friend, Bob. 

One time, we were in El Salvador as the San Mateo delegation.  A few of us were playing tag outside with the kids.  We had one little boy, Franki, cornered, and our friend Bob Biehn came out of the house to see what was going on. Upon seeing him, Franki looked up, pointed his finger and screamed “Santa Clause!” with a delighted smile on his face.  Know what Bob did?  He let out a contagious chuckle.

Bob Biehn wore a suit to church nearly every Sunday, though it was never red.  I never saw Bob drive a sleigh pulled by 8 tiny reindeer, but I’m fairly certain he could have if he’d wanted to.  What Bob really had in common with Santa is this:  Bob had a laugh that he was ready to share at any minute, and that you couldn’t help but laugh back at.  Bob was a huge part of the youth group at St. Matthews, and was always ready to share joy and happiness with us.  He was able to be a part of many, many mission trips in many parts of the country and in different parts of the world.  He was always supportive, always calm and always ready to lend his heart out to you.

Bob Biehn, you are not Santa Clause, but you are a legend in my book. I will always remember you with a smile.

Rest in Peace, friend.

That Recently Happened to Me in English

So, a lot has happened, and it’s been… a lot of things:  exciting, overwhelming, challenging, eye opening and a million other describing words.  Let me try to bring you up to speed really quickly.

I had a week-long orientation in Chicago, where the group of 50 of us, who are now currently dispersed in various parts of the world, had the opportunity to get to know each other better and learn more about ourselves, our places in the world, and our faith in a broader spectrum.  Then, I traveled with the other 4 girls in my Argentina/Uruguay group to Buenos Aires where we had another week-long orientation.  At the end of this orientation, I was sitting with two of the other participants, and we were discussing what our actual placements might be like and what we were anticipating.  The 3 of us were sharing our concerns about using Spanish and were agreeing that, if worse came to worse, we could rely on the “smile and nod” technique.  This eventually led to the conversation about when that doesn’t work;  when you’re sitting there, nodding, smiling, and hoping that it’s just a yes or no question, and then you realize that people are staring at you, looking for a better answer, and you are completely lost.

“You know,” said Katie, one of my fellow participants, “that recently happened to me in English.”  To which we all had a good laugh.

Ok, so fast forward to a couple days ago.  I’d been going to my placement site just to observe for the first week, and to get there, I needed to take a bus.  Well, I’m not really accustomed to taking buses in the U.S., but this system is pretty straightforward, so it hasn’t been too tricky.  I was standing at the bus stop, along with a couple who were busy sharing some romantic, bus stop kisses.  I saw the bus approach, and I waved it down, as did the female component of the embracing couple.  The bus pulled over, slowed down a bit (i.e. didn’t really stop), and the girl got on the bus.  Being the polite Wisconsinite I am, I waited for her counterpart to follow.  Unfortunately, the guy didn’t follow.   Instead, he settled for one last embrace and then walked away from the door -  and the bus drove away.  And all I could do was watch it drive away from me.  Needless to say, I felt a little stupid and frustrated; I’d have to arrive late that morning, having missed a bus that I’d flagged down.  And my Spanish skills are not adept enough to be able to tell that story in a way that doesn’t make me sound like an idiot.

 I was standing at the bus stop (alongside the now solo component of our couple) feeling simultaneously sorry for myself, frustrated, anxious, and annoyed with the conduct of the buses, when Katie’s words hit me- “That recently happened to me in English”. 

Just about two weeks before I left to start this program, I was supposed to help some of the St. Matthew’s youth get on a bus to go to the Wisconsin State Fair.  In Wauwatosa, I hadn’t had the proper bus etiquette either, and the bus just drove right past us, leaving 13 of us gawking in disbelief.

Ok, so what is the point of these long, drawn out, random stories?  Buses just aren’t my thing, and I’m going to need to start collecting funds to buy a car to use here.

 Kidding.

Here’s my point.  That little saying of Katie’s keeps flowing through my head.  When I get overwhelmed here, it helps to be able to remind myself that overwhelming things happened to me at home, too.  Conversely, when I’m missing the really awesome people I know at home, it’s nice to realize that those types of conversations and relationships can happen in Spanish, too (and, they do).  Doing everything in Spanish here and having everything happen to me in Spanish is a bit of a challenge, and my reaction times have definitely slowed; it takes me about a minute and a half to process what people are saying to me, and at least that long to respond.   But, I would have to say that my appreciation and gratitude for any type of kind gesture has grown exponentially.

A further example of this happened today.  Apparently, I can’t say the word bag correctly in Spanish, and a couple of the kids at the community center have been getting a kick out of it, asking me to repeat it and imitating how I say it.  Today, a little 8 year old girl took it upon herself to teach me how to say it correctly.  She slowed down each sound, had me repeat, and then had me say all the sounds together.  Then she had me try it a little faster, but she made sure to remind me not to be afraid to slow down and take my time with it and get it right.  Eventually, her face lit up and she announced to her all friends that I’d learned, and she invited them over to hear.  The thing is, I can’t really hear what I’m doing wrong, but, as I’m from Wisconsin, I’ve had the way I pronounce bag corrected in English, as well.  The biggest difference?  The extreme thankfulness I feel towards this little girl and her encouragement and patience with my ambling Spanish.  It is so awesome.

Ok, so that’s what I have to share this time.  It’s a little silly, and maybe just another way of saying “wherever you go, there you are”.  But, it’s helping me not find a corner to cry in when I get overwhelmed or frustrated.  And it’s reminding me to stop and be able to laugh at myself and get perspective when I make a mistake.  My life could be happening in English right now, but I’m lucky enough for it to be happening in Spanish.

The Beginning

Ok, so, I would just like to start this out by saying that I'm incredibly nervous about writing this blog.  I tend to put a lot of pressure on myself when trying to articulate my thoughts in a written manner, but, I will do my best.

For those of you who don't know, I will be spending a year serving in Montevideo, Uruguay with the Young Adults in Global Mission (YAGM) program through the ELCA. While my adventure has not yet started in my country of destination, there has been a fair amount of buildup to it starting in my country of origin.  I've known for a long time that I wanted to do something international after graduation.  I can't pinpoint exactly where this idea came from, but I'd have to place most of the blame on my hippie mom and worldly grandparents who have instilled in me the idea of a "worldwide community".  And I would have to thank my mom and my church for exposing me to El Salvador through relationship-building mission trips.  These trips and the people I have met there are invaluable to me, and have steered my interests and passion towards Latin America, something that I would not have predicted about myself 5 years ago.

Speaking of directions in which I hadn't expected my life to go, I have to say that 8 months ago, I would not have envisioned myself going somewhere through the church, as a missionary.  So perhaps I should explain how that all came to be.

I graduated in December from UW-Madison, and really wanted to spend a year somewhere in Latin America, but I really had no idea what venue to go through.  I wanted to go with a trustworthy program, but when you're googleing "abroad placements", it's pretty tricky to know which program really is reliable, and what I really wanted was for someone to just tell me "I went through this program, it was awesome, you will love it."  Enter El Salvador (again).  I went to El Salvador again in January.  Through these partnership trips, my church has been lucky enough to meet a missionary of the ELCA, Dan, who served two years ago and whom we now take back with us as our interpreter.  So, I decided I would ask him for any suggestions.  Not too surprisingly, he suggested Global Missions through the ELCA and told me they had various programs, some shorter than others.  I guess that wasn’t really the answer I was looking for, so I asked him if he knew of any other programs.  I think he briefly mentioned maybe the Peace Corps, and then went back to explaining the benefits of going through the ELCA and how they really take care of you.  I have to admit, I kind of wrote it off;  going through the church just didn’t seem like the right fit for me.

When I returned home from El Salvador, I continued running my mouth about this grand idea I had to go abroad.  I stopped in to my mom’s work, and started talking about what I wanted to do with one of her co-workers, and he also mentioned ELCA Global Missions. (Note:  my mom works at a church; the aforementioned co-worker is my pastor; in particular, he is Pastor Gary).  So, I kind of looked at the program then, but I wasn’t fully convinced.  About a week later, I got a letter in the mail from Pastor Gary that included an article about a girl who had served in Malaysia for a year through the YAGM program.  After reading her story, I realized it did sound like what I wanted.  After that, I started working on the application, which asked some questions that initially seemed pretty daunting.  They were questions that forced me to articulate powerful experiences I’d had, but that I hadn’t yet been able to adequately explain.  So, after mulling over the application for weeks, and with a fair amount of help from my mom and Dan, I turned in the YAGM application approximately 2 hours before the final deadline. 

A short while after turning in the application, I learned that as a part of the process, I’d have a phone interview with a past alumni.  I got on the phone with the alumni, and she introduced herself and started telling her story.  She explained that she had served with YAGM in Malaysia and had worked with kids.  Sound familiar, anyone? She eventually asked me how I’d heard about the program.  All I could say was, “Um, I’m pretty sure I read an article about you”.

 Following the phone conversation, I told Pastor Gary about this coincidence.  “Well,” he said, “that certainly seems like a sign for those of us who are in the business of reading signs”.

After that, everything with the program just kind of fell into place.  The rest of the process, including the 4 day long discernment weekend, proved both challenging but also strengthening and eye-opening.   Now, I’m about a week away from officially beginning my journey with a week-long orientation in Chicago.  I can’t quite know what to expect next year, which is mildly terrifying, but I am also looking forward to this opportunity.  All my life, I’ve enjoyed hearing a good story, so now I’m preparing myself to go to a new place to experience the story of another land, another people and another community.  I’m hoping that this blog will serve as an outlet to share those stories as well as my own.