Riding the Roller Coaster...

The last few days have been a roller coaster of highs and lows. This past weekend was great. Saturday our entire team hikes to the giant cross on a big hill on the outskirts of Lima. To get there, we took what should've been a 30 minute taxi ride (but our driver got lost)...that was an adventure in itself because there were six of us, not counting the driver, in the taxi...you guessed it, no seat belt laws here! The cross is situated in a poorer section of Lima, which can mean more danger. We felt very safe, though, because three friends from "The Community" (a home where a local pastor helps people get back on their feet, so to speak...but not really just that, hard to explain in email) accompanied us.

It was quite the hike (I felt like I was training for the Grand Canyon again), but it was worth it. Although the day was overcast, so we couldn't get the full of Lima like we had hoped for, it was still breath-taking to be up there, breathing in the fresh air, getting even a glimpse of the vastness of the city. One ironic observation of the day: on the side of the mountain that the cross is on, "Peru Moderno" (Modern Peru) is spelled out in rock or something like that. The sign is directly above a very poor part of Lima...a very crazy combination to see.

Saturday night we helped out with "Coffee House". Craig (one of the staff here) has a roommate, Marco. At the church they both attend, Marco helps to organize an event called "Coffee House". At Coffee House, Peruvians learning English come to practice their converstaion skills (which, I've learned since trying to learn a new language myself, is vital). Saturday's topic was food, so we talked about different food things for a while before reading the story about Jesus feeding the 5000. Mark & Aaron (two of my teammates) and myself were in charge of the advanced table, which, thankfully, meant that our people knew how to speak English really well, so we didn't have to struggle with our Spanish much. The funniest part of the evening was teaching them some slang words and phrases, like "awesome" and "here we go". Gives me a whole new appreciation for how hard English would be to learn.

Sunday, after my favorite lunch of green noodles with meat (which I will learn to make before I leave here, so ask me to make it in Omaha sometime), I finally made it to the ocean. Five weeks I have been wanting to go! Monica and I walked there. We didn't make it down to the beach, but rather, looked at the ocean from some cliffs overlooking. The ocean view from Lima isn't the prettiest I've ever seen, but there is just something abou the ocean that is good for my soul. I love watching the waves, listening to the roar. When I'm at the ocean, I feel like I really understand the scriptures that talk about how nature testifies to the existence and glory of God! I plan on visiting the ocean as much as I can while I'm here.

Monday at Casa Job, the roller coaster took a turn for the worse. We learned that Freddy, one of our favorite kids here, was taken to jail over the weekend, probably for stealing. No one knows, yet, what will happen with him. If he'll be in for a long time (the jail and justice system here is so unpredictable...makes me very thankful to live where I do in terms of the justice system we have in the US).

News like that is a slap to my face of the reality of the lives of the youth that we work with here. Yes, many of them are thieves. Many are addicted to glue and "pasta" (a form of cocaine). Some work as prostitutues. Many have children. But I don't know them as these things. I know them as friends. I know them as people who have great senses of humor, who likek to play soccer, cards, fooseball and checkers. I know them as people who have a great capacity to love a bunch of Amiercans who can't really speak the language and will be leaving in 3 months.

This brings up all sorts of questions in my mind, like where is the line between justice and grace for these kids? Why did they have to be born into lives that seem to leave few options ofther than the lives they are living right now? What does God have planned for these youth? What does God call all of us to do in response? Of course, none of these questions have easy answers, which is part of my angst here. I hate not having an answer, as many of you may know. I feel rather uncomfortable with this "gray" area that I often find myself in here.

Today was another rather frustrating day that caused me to ask a lot of questions. I think I may have mentioned in an earlier journal entry that one day each week we visit a home called Generacion. Here, about 70 kids who would otherwise probably be living on the streets, have a home. I aloways have a hard time at Generacion for several reasons. First, we are only there for a couple hours a week, so building relationships comes very slowly. Second, there is no strucutre there, which I thrive on. I find that it's especially hard to not have structure when you don't speak the language. Third, the need there is often overwhelming. Every time I go, I am bombarded with requests for money, clothing, shoes, my watch...you name it, the kids there have asked me for it. I don't blame them for asking for these things. If I were in their spot, I would probably do the same thing. I just don't know how to answer their requests, how to handle the big eyes pleading for so much more than just my watch or my shoes. I know that what these kids really need is for someone to love them. I want to be able to o that, but I feel so incredibly inadequate all of the time.

That seems to be a reoccuring theme in my life since I've arrived here: feeling inadequate. I don't know the language and feel like I will never catch on. I don't play soccer, which is everywhere. I don't have a way with kids. I can't play guitar. I could continue the list on for pages, but there's no need for that. I feel like one of the lessons I am learning on this trip is that I are inadequate, without God. I never will be good enough for this world, but, praise God, that doesn't really matter. I'm excited to see where this lesson leads in the next 2.5 months.

Sorry for the "heavy" entry this time. Really, things are still going great here and I can't imagine beingn anwhere else right now. Just thought it would be good to balance the "good times" with the "bad times" in this journal. Thanks, again, for all your thoughts and prayers. I am so blessed by each and every one of you!

Pinch Me Moments

I'd like to share with you a couple of "pinch me moments" I had this week. What are pinch me moments, you're wondering? They are times when I just think to myself, "Am I really doing this? Or will I wake up from this great crazy dream to find myself in my bed in Omaha?"

On Wednesday, after another excellent day at Casa Job (side note: Praise God, this has been my best week here so far. I feel like I am really connecting with some of the youth, my Spanish is slowing improving, I have not gotten ill when several of my teammates have...it's just been a great week!), eight of us boarded a bus to travel to another part of Lima to attend a memorial service, of some sort, for Manuel's mom. Manuel is the guy I may have told you about earlier this week who didn't play volleyball well but is great with the kids, has a huge heart...I just really like Manuel.

Manuel's mom died a month ago. He didn't find out until about 10 days after the fact, so he missed the funeral, which, as you can imagine, was very difficult for him. Just because he lives on the street, doesn't mean that he doesn't love parts of him family, I am learning. A month after a death, there is some sort of memorial service. We were going to support Manuel at it. The bummer of the story is that Manuel wasn't home when we arrived and we never were able to meet up with him.

The pinch me moments occured in the midst of the search for Manuel, though. We thought he might be at the cemetary, so we decided to go there. To get to most places in this part of town, you ride in a little moto-taxi. A moto-taxi is a motorcyle that the back has been converted to a 3 seater little cab. It has a canvas cover, two wheels...kind of like a rickshaw on a motorcycle, if that helps at all. There are quite a trip to ride in, let me tell you. The cemetary was also a little unreal. For starters, there wasn't grass anywhere, just bare dirt and the most grave markers that I'd ever seen in one small space. Throughout the cemetary, there were also tall wall-like structures that had people "buried" in them as well. Bascially, the casket is slid into a space and the hole is then sealed up. The name, dates, and other things are printed on the door that seals the space shut. Sometimes these "wall" were four high and at least 10 across. I simply cannot do the scene justice in a any description, but there certainly was a moment, when I was walking through that cemetary, that I thought, "Am I really in this place at this time?"

Manuel and his family were not in the cemetary, so we went back to his sister's apartment, hoping to find him there. Her apartment bordered the edge of the "town square". It was a narrow long park that was filled with people. I commented on this to one of the staff. They said that it might be because these people really thrive on having a close knit community. It could also be because they don't have television to isolate them from one another, or because they have so many people living in heir house that they like to get outside and away from them. Whatever the reason, the bustle of activity in and around the park was amazing. There were food stands all along the outside, offering all sorts of meals using every part of all different kinds of animals. Simple scenes like this, that are so unlike anything I've ever seen back home...these are the scenes that I think back upon when I'm laying in bed at night and I think, "Am I really in Peru, doing these things, living this life?" It's crazy, I tell you, but right now I couldn't have it any other way!

Spanish Slang 101

So a funny things happened at breakfast this morning. I was sitting at a table with Craig (one of hte staff here), Aaron and Mark (two of my teammates) and about 5 of the guys at Casa Job for breakfast this morning. Breakfast today was Quaker (the soupy oatmeal that I'm becoming very fond of) and two rolls with stuff in them. One was a jelly sandwich and the other an egg sandwich.

One of the boys had asked me for my sandwich. Side note here: I'm learning that, while the youth do genuinely like me, when they ask me to sit by them at meals, it's because, I believe, they think that I won't eat all my food and then they can have the leftovers. That is usually true for lunch, but for breakfast, it's not such a good plan for them because I usually eat every bit.

Ok, back to my story. Since I have limited Spanish, I try to use what little I know as often as possible because I want to show them that I do want to talk and am making an effort. So, when that boy asked me for my sandwich, I said, in Spanish, "No, I like eggs." Well, immediatley they started to laugh in that way that junior high boys laugh when a teacher says something that could be taken the wrong way. That laughter always makes me a bit nervous, so I turn to Craig and ask him why the boys were laughing. In between his own laughter he explains that there is no way I could've known, but the word for "eggs" is a crude slang term for "balls" of the male variety, not for sports, if you catch my drift. So, they all found in quite amusing that I had just proclaimed, so the entire table, that I like balls. Hope you don't find that story offensive...we all had a good laugh about it, so at least somthing good came from a rather embarrasing moment. I also learned that in the future I will say that I like chicken eggs because, apparently being more specific like that takes care of the problem. What can I say, teenage boys will be teenage boys...it doesn't matter what county you're in.

Days like this remind me why I'm here...

Hello all! I just had an awesome day at Casa Job, so I thought I'd share my good mood with you. Why was the day so good? Well, it wasn't because anything earth-shattering happened. It was just because I felt more connected with the kids today that most days...maybe even the most connected ever. During Bible time, the staff divided the youth into three group for prayer. They do this occasionally (once ever week or two). As typical teenagers, most of them just sit around, not saying anything when asked what we could pray for them about. My group was facilitaed by Brian (the field director here). He made everyone share a request and then said that we were all going to pray for the person on our right. I was to the right of Freddy.

Let me take a small sidestep here to tell you about Freddy. He is the funniest guy. I would guess he is about 18 years old.. He usually has this goofy smile on his face. He is the butt of many of the youth's jokes, but they all like him a lot. He's the kind of guy that I think we've all known at some point in our lives...the kind that is just easy-going, easy to talk to, fun to be around...everyone's friend. During art time, Freddy will often draw pictures. Nothing that will sell for money in an art gallery, but he puts his whole atention to those pictures. The other day, for instance, he drew this neat picture of him flying a kite in the country. I'd like to know why he drew that...is it just a nice picture...is it a glimpse into his mind and what he'd like to be? Freddy is also a good soccer player (like most of the kids here).

Anywho...Freddy was to my left, so he prayed for me. I had shared that I wanted them to pray that I would learn Spanish quickly because it is frustrating that I can't talk with the youth as much as I'd like to. I don't know much of what he said when he prayed, but it was just so neat that he did...hard to explain, but made my day.

After Bible time, we headed to the stadium to play soccer and volleyball. Usually the girls sit on the side, playing with their babies, but today Jill was watching the little ones, so Monica and I got the three girls to play volleyball...without a net, mind you. After some time, Monica and I decided that, based on what was considered above and below the net, the imaginary net much has been a tennis court net. The games were so fun because I really felt like I was connectingn with the girls. Sometimes they can be very quiet, almost aloof. I think that's just because they are weighed down with a lot of responsibility at a young age...and the language barrier, of course. The volleyball game, though, was the great uniter. We laughed, joked....just had an all around good time.

The best part of playig volleyball was seeing the Edith filled with so much life. Edith is in her late teens. She has a 2 year old son, Patrick. Patrick is a great kid, but, as all 2 year olds, he can be a handful at times. Today, Patrick was very tired, so he was sleeping at a friend's house (at least that's what I think Edith said). Edith is a good mom who works hard to provide for Patrick, but she obviously needed a day off because she was a different person today. I can't imaginen the pressure of raising a child on the streets. I hope that we can give Edith more days like today. Days where she is free to play, laugh, smile. Days where the pressures of the world don't seem so overwhelming.

After the stadium, it was back to Casa Job for free time. I played cards with Manuel, which was also good because Manuel is kind of a loner. He's a really sweet guy who doesn't seem to fit in with other guys quite as well. It's easy to get caught up in paying attention to the kids who are really outgoing, have charismatic personalities. The youth that everyone likes. I've been praying over the last week that God would constantly remind me to not overlook those who don't stand out as much, if that makes sense.

Cards were also fun because, again, games can be the great equalizer. Once I understand how to play, very little Spanish is required to have a fun time. I did have to learn, though, that you deal and play counterclockwise here...at least the youth do. I had to explain that in the United States, we play the other way around. We played rummy and Casino (Dad, like you play with Amanda sometimes, but a little different. I'll show you when I get home)

As the day was ending and the youth were leaving, Monica and I realized that Alexis was outside. Have I told you all about Alexis? He is another one of my favorites. He is very smart, always willing to talk with us (even if he does always make fun of my Spanish, saying I need to spend more time with Irma, our tutor). He hadn't been to Casa Job in several days. He asked if we would be out tomorrow night for "la leche" (which is what the youth call it when we go out on Tuesday and Friday nights and bring hot cholocate and sandwiches). He seemed pleased that we said we would be there. He also had a couple of friends with him that he introduced us to.

These might all seem like little things, but they all made for a great day. Today I didn't spend as much time feeling sorry for the youth and their situations. Instead, I enjoyed their friendship. I got to know them a little more as just friends. Not that I want to stop having sympathy for them, but I want to move past that to a point where I have compassion for them not because they are poor street kids but because they are my friends. That's a hard thing to explain, and I don't quite understand it myself yet, but it's exciting to feel like (pm moving closer to that.

If you think of it, please pray for my new friends. I know they would love knowing that people in the United States know and care about them :)

Ok, off to finish my Spanish homework. Irma gave us a ton of it. I had to take a break, but I'd better get back or I'll never finish. Chow!

Bombs Away!

Flea bombs, that is. Yes, you heard right. We have fleas Actually Monica has fleas, but only because she had a stroke of bad luck that Jill and I didn't. Any of us could've gotten fleas (and I wouldn't be suprised if I do before this trip is done). Monica has been battling bites all week, so this morning, before we left for Casa Job, we set off a flea bomb. So, all those little critters should be good and dead now!

It's been a good week here in Lima. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were spent at Casa Job. Anna is back from vacation. She is the director of Casa Job. She had taken a month off, so we hadn't met her until this week. She runs a tight ship there, which is great. We now start and end on time, have a bit more structure to our time there...the structure lover in me is so excited to have her there! I have found myself in charge of the first floor shower often this week...those boys take forever sometimes!

Tuesday, the servant team went to Casa Job with Brian (the director of all the Word Made Flesh activities in Peru) and Craig, one of the staff, to finish the painting and cleaning we had started last week. I scrubbed several floors, on my hands and knees, with a kitchen Brillo pad-like thing. Let me tell you, that was a job well done. I love cleaning where I can see progress! After cleaning we grabbed lunch at a cheap Chinese place down the street. I have never seen such huge portions of food!

We had Spanish class twice this week. Our professor Irma is a hoot. She is very out-spoken, which makes for some entertaining classes.

Last week was the first Husker game, right? Several things this week reminded me of that. First, I can't remember where I was, but I saw a woman (I think it was one of the nights that I was on the street, so it may have been one of the youth we work with) with a Nebraska Cornhusker coat on. Who would've thought that I'd see a Husker coat on a native in Lima, Peru! Then, Tuesday night, we were at Plaza Vea (our favorite grocery store) getting a bedtime snack. They have an area where they sell electronics. There was a massive group of people gathered around the TVs. Every so often, a large roar and applause would erupt. We found out it was because one of the favorite local soccer teams was playing a very intense game. It was hilarious. That reminded me of the Huskermania back home.

Well, that's about it for this week. We're settling into a routine here, which is nice. Hope all is well wherever you are reading this. Thanks for your continued thoughts and prayers!

Want to get another perspective on my trip?

Two of my teammates, Monica Ghali ad Mark Hewitt, also have "blogs" posted to tell people about their trips. If you'd like to read more about Peru (from someone else's perspective), you can check out their websites. The addresses are mghali.blogspot.com and markhewitt.blogspot.com. Remeber, those do not have the "www" in front of the addresses. Enjoy!

Funny moments...

Thought you might enjoy hearing about my embarrasing moment. Last week, we were in teh grocery store, buying supplies to make sandwiches to go out to the streets (see the last journal entry for more on that). I was at the check-out. The cashier asked me, in English, where I was from. I told her the United States and then wanted to tell her that her English was very good. As I was giving that compliment, I put my fingers up in the "ok" sign to go with the compliment I was giving here. The problem? In Peru, putting your thumb and index finger together in the circle and then putting the other three fingers up doesn't mean "ok" like it does in the States. Instead, it is like giving someone the finger. I knew that, but have been havingn problems remembering to avoid that sign. As soon as I realized I did it, I gasped, laughed, and tried to apologize. The woman was very nice about it, but I felt preety foolish, none the less.

Another fun mental picture for you all...last Tuesday, we had a dinner meeting at Jennifer's house (the servant team leader). We hadn't eaten all day and didn't have enough time to go home before having to meet early at Jennifer's house for a training session before dinner, so Monica, Jill, and I decided to go to the grocery store to buy some lunch snacks (it was about 3pm. No resteraunts were open because it was a state holiday). We bought our snacks and then couldn't decide where to eat them. We finally settled on sitting on the last bench at the bus stop. That was comical because the three of us draw enough attention the way it is without sitting at a bus stop, eating, and never getting on a bus. By the end of our little meal, we had made several new friends, one who even spoke some English. It was an entertaining lunch.

Our nights on the streets

Hello everyone! I think my problem with these journal updates is that I make them too long and then the computer freezes up, so my goal now is to post things in smaller pieces, will probably be better anyway because that won't be so overwhelming for me to write.

Anyway, I thought that this week I would tell you abou the evenings that Word Made Flesh goes out to the streets where the kids hang out. Every Tuesday and Friday, about 5-10 people (depending on people's schedules) meet at 9:30ish at a church near Grau Street. Grau Street is in an area of town that I definately wouldn't go by myself at night but (this is for you, mom) I feel totally safe and secure with the staff and kids we know around. At theh church, we make a huge pot of hot chocolate by boiling water, then adding evaporated milk and some sort of chocolate. I haven't tasted it, but the kids fight over it, so it must be pretty good.

Beforehand, the servant team (that's me and my other four partners in crime) have made 70 ham sandwiches (I'm getting good at asking for "70 pieces of the cheapest ham" at Plaza Vea, the grocery store we buy supplies at). We have a system down...we like to call it "cut, butter, slap and slam". Two people cut the rolls in half (but not completely apart because then the sandwiches get seperated in the bag and that's a mess), two people butter (we've found putting the big packages of butter in your armpits softens them up really nice), one person "slaps" a piece of ham on, and the last person "slams" the finished sandwich into the bag...viola!

Anyway, back to the actual nights on the street. After making the chocolate milk and praying at the church, we walk over to Grau Street. On the way, we pass this one plaza/park by the courthouse (I can't remember the name). We usually see these cute elementary school age kids there. Their parents sell things (snacks and other random stuff) on teh streets to make a living, so these kids just hang out there all day. They do tricks like juggling, cartwheels, etc, in front of traffic when the lights are red, hoping to get a little extra money. They are so cute! Monica, Jill, and I went with Craig (one of the staff) last Saturday afternoon to paly with a bunch of them. I really likes spending time with them because I don't have to talk as much because we just played and walked and such. Also, it's way easier talking with a 10 year old than a teenanger...I can keep them entertained much longer by asking about brothers and sisters, animal noises, favorite colors, etc. Teens just don't find those topics of conversation that intersesting...I can't imagine why...anyway, I'm getting sidetracked easily today, aren't I?

On the way to Grau Street, we always stop at the same little fruit vendor (he has a big cart with fruit piled high on the side of the street) to buy a bunch of little bananas. Sometimes he'll throw in an orange for free for us to eat ont he way. On the way to Grau Street, we also see young women leaning against buildings, waiting to be "picked up". They are prostitutes, and out of everyone we see on the evenings that we go to the streets, they are probably the ones that break my heart the most. It mades me so sad to see them, but it makes me even more sad not to see them because if they are not there, they are probably working.

We meet at the same place every week, so the youth are usually there waiting for us by the time we arrive. It's just a spot on the sidewalk, nothing special about the spot. They've had to move the meetingn space several times because businesses will sometimes complain because they don't want a bunch of street kids hanging around outside their business. The boys will play a make-shift game of soccer in the street...a very rough game that I would never be able to play in...those kids are really good! They constantly have to dodge the taxis, cars, and buses that occasionally brave driving through the middle of their game.

This last week, there was a scary moment during the soccer game. Carmelo (one of the boys) jumped on the hood of a little taxi driving through as a joke (yes, nota very smart joke, but he's a teenage boy, what more can I say?) The taxi driver (probably being angry and afraid) sped up and drove for over a block with Carmelo hanging on to the windshield wipers. The taxi eventually stopped and lethim off (and then quickly sped off), so all is well that ends well, I guess, but it was a scary moment. Most nights are pretty uneventful...events like that are definately not the norm.

At some point, we gather everyonen in a circle, pray, sing some songs, and then hand out the food. Every last bit is eaten...nothing ever goes to waste. I don't want you to think, though, that our goal in going out there is to feed the youth. Yes, that's a nice thing that we do, but the goal is to show the youth we love them and care for them by meeting them where they are. Some of the youth will be high from sniffing glue. Some of the youth who have babies will have their little ones out there, even though it's late and cold because that is where they will be spending the night if they are not lucky enough to be able to scrape together a few soles (the money here) to rent a room for the night. I can't say that I enjoy going to the streets, but I know that it's a good thing that we do, and I am definately learning things by being there.