Life´s not fair!

Growing up as kids we might have learned the concept of “injustice” through small instances, such as one kid getting a cooler snack for lunch than another or one being naturally better at basketball than another. “It´s not fair” we might have wined or heard other complain. “Life´s not fair” might have been an appropriate, through difficult response to hear. After the anger, frustration and discontent pass, we begin to learn a lesson as to how to deal with the injustice.

I am still learning these lessons at age 24. Many times unexplainable events happen here (as everywhere) that make me want to scream or cry or bust and exclaim, “It´s not fair!!!” I want to act out like a child and throw a tantrum. Here I want to share with you just three of the instances I have experienced in Nicaragua that have caused me to feel such sentiments.

These days we are in the heart of the rainy season. It rained every day from October 1 through the 19^th. The rains come in heavy waves, torrential downpour, or sometimes just gray and on and off for days straight. Last week we experienced some of the heaviest rains which caused us to start to feel tired of the rain. Enough already! In the community we moan over our clothes, belts, shoes, and bags which have grown moldy, leaks that enter through walls and somehow dampen the beds, laundry which just never dries, and the immense effort it takes to leave the house in the morning for work when it is down pouring. Though Sunday while visiting with my host family here, they informed me of a tragedy that happened in Matagalpa (a city in the north of Nica) that week. A nine year old girl was walking with some friends back to her home from school, trekking through the rain, when she fell suddenly and rapidly into one of the “manholes,” the rain drains that carry the water to the lakes. The manholes in Nicaragua are seriously dangerous for this precise reason because most of them are uncovered. The tops are stolen all over the country, and used or sold by thieves to build houses or other structures. They are big enough for any human being to fall into so all are aware to exercise caution when walking on a sunny day; on a rainy day, when the rain is up to knee-length and one cannot see the ground on which they walk, one might pray, walk softly, or not walk at all. A nine year old girl fell into the hole, quicker than her young schoolmates knew what had happened, she was carried through the drain system, and found days later, mangled, dead, and destroyed on a river’s shore. How unjust, an innocent life lost so tragically!

The banks I work in function on a guarantee of solidarity. We give group loans and the women are encouraged to support each other in a time of crisis. For this reason, if a woman wants to enter the banks, she needs to have the recommendation of a woman who is already in the banks. The woman who recommends the others accepts full responsibility for the debt of the other woman if she cannot pay her first loans. Last year Rosa and her daughter Raquel recommended Doña Dalilia for a loan in the banks. They knew her from the school that their kids attended and even through she was not the most punctual person, they recognized her as a dedicated, working woman who wanted a loan to continue to work. Dalilia started off in the banks as a great member; she attended the meetings with a big smile and friendliness and paid her weekly sum. About halfway through the cycle, she decided to make the common haul to Costa Rica to find better work. She took her loan with her, and left Rosa and Raquel to cancel more than half of her debt. She promised she would send money back (as so many Nicaraguans who migrate to C.R. do!), but Rosa and Raquel never saw that money. Rosa and Raquel saw her kids in school, still dressed well, still participating in activities, and assumed she was sending money back, just not to them. Months later she returned to Nicaragua and was pleased though shamed to find her loan closed by Rosa and Raquel, who had struggled immensely to cancel it. We, the bank team, knowing the impoverished situation of Rosa and Raquel, came to an agreement with Dalila, that she would slowly start to pay us back, and we would facilitate this money to Rosa and Raquel. She told us a lot of “I don´t have much and it´s very hard for me to make money these days, but I will give you what I have and what I have promised.” Well, we are visiting Dalilia every 15 days, a 20 minute walk out of the barrio and back, and she has not been home the days we come to collect, and she has not given us a cent. We can´t make her pay, but we want Rosa and Raquel to have some of their money back. I know there are some parables about this in the Bible.

Recently in the banks we have been giving workshops on violence. For most of the groups, we had a guest speaker come in who helped the women open up about talking about violence, “breaking the silence,” identifying the types of violence, and recognizing that they experience some or all of these types of violence. In the smallest group we showed a documentary about violence against women, made for and by women in Nicaragua. I have been astounded by the stories I have heard these past weeks. I have been shocked by the quantity of women who identified with the women´s testimonies in the movie about spousal abuse, and with the jokes made about violence to “break the ice,” and with the tears, and bruises I have seen on the women. Maria Elena opened up yesterday about the abuse she has been standing from her husband for the past 35 years and from her kids who drink all the time and come home to treat her as though she were not a human being. Damaris came to us two weeks ago, eyes black and blue and ready to go with Grety to the police to denounce, “enough already!” Felicita is having nightmares from the sexual abuse her daughters experienced by the hands of the girls´ father. I have seen several children be hit with belts by family members, as I have tried to wrap my head around understanding this completely outrageous behavior… none of which I can identify.

Outrageous. Causing outward expression of rage. IT¨S NOT FAIR! That she experiences this, and I have not. And I´ve exerpeinced something else, that she has not. Life´s not fair! Even though it has been very difficult to witness and see these things close to first-hand, I am still grateful. I am grateful that I live in a place where the people around me are so conscious of the injustice that happens around them, which causes them to act for justice and peace in their communities. After visits with the women, I reflect with my co-workers, Grety and Silvio on the heaviness of the visit, the sadness of the woman, whatever it is at the time and I am amazed when their reactions are often more strongly expressed than mine. When we Jesuit Volunteers arrive to work in El Recreo all wet from the 10min. walk in the rain, our coworkers say things like, “oh, poor things, you got wet on the way! This rain is bad, huh? But it´s still not as bad for us as it is for others. Imagine those poor people along the edges of the sewage drains with dirt floors and make-shift roofs…we have to think of them in a time like this!” And they remind me everyday of the need to overcome selfishness which is found just dwelling in disappointment over injustice.

We cannot let the injustice paralyze us. I am learning here that I need to channel the anger and frustration into positive action for fairness, for justice, for equality, peace, and love. We need to work to fill in the gaps of injustice and strive to give what we have of ourselves (time, energy, organization, resources) where others have not. Life is NOT fair. But God is. And as a human being and as a Catholic, I am called to face injustice and suffering, and act for justice and peace. Jesus calls us all to this in His teachings, like the parables of the Prodigal Son, the Good Samaritan, the Sower of Seeds, and the Final Judgment. These days I am searching for how to channel the anger I experience when faced with injustice, big or small, into strength to work for justice and to work for justice with love.

P H O T O S

::: the community :::

celebrating the visit of a Former Nica Jesuit Volunteer,
Anne Berry, with her husband George, friend Paola, and pizza!!! woo hoo!

::: our neighbors :::
Doña Tere and Doña Maxima, best friends
who sit outside D. Maxima´s house every night and talk, even in the rain

::: the lunch community :::
some co workers and friends with whom I eat lunch everyday

Doña Elieth (chef extraordinaire!), Hilda, Paula, Me, Mary, Mirna, Haisy

::: the mujeres :::
the women of Banco 8 who shocked me with a party for my birthday!!
HUGE cake, piñata, chips, sanwiches, soda, dancing!!!

Short Stories, Big Prayers

So I walk into the comedor (kitchen) of the Project this Wednesday to see if I can help Rosario out with preparing the meals that about 100 malnourished children will consume. “Of course you can help!” Wonderful! So I help her serve rice and a vegetable brew into the little bowls. As the professional and chef, she soon realizes that I am serving either too much or too little in each bowl and promotes my job to placing the spoon in each bowl. I’m okay with this special job since I remember I am here to “be with” people and not necessarily move mountains. She arranges the bowls with such speed, precision, and love, while I make sure the spoon is strategically placed under the weight of the rice so they don’t fall upon serving. As I finish up, I notice her looking for something on the floor. What are you looking for Rosario? “Don´t worry about it, Margarita, its just a little part of my earring.” Bummer, right!? She loves those pink-ball dangly earrings. Naturally I start to help her and she resists as if she doesn’t really care. “No, don’t worry about it, Margarita, it’s SO small and I have other earrings.” But I help her anyway. I ask to see the other earring to know what part we are looking for. YUP, it’s small… a thin, silver pin that actually goes inside the clasp. I figure, it’s silver and shiny, we should be able to find it on this maroon, sorta-ceramic-tiled floor. But Rosario pretends to stop looking, tells me over and over to not worry about it, and continues the work in the kitchen. I try to tell her, “Don’t lose hope! Come, we can find it!” She starts sweeping, just to clean up the floor, and I know she is still looking for it, but I try to step back, hoping that if I don’t look like I am worrying about it, she won’t feel as bad. And as she is sweeping, she finds, IN THE CRACK of the floor. Stuck deep between two of the tiles, where rice and dirt were accompanying this millimeter-size silver pin. Woo hoo! Ohh she´s psyched! “These are my favorite earrings, and maybe they can fix them in the market!” Her “small victory” filled my heart with faith and hope, as she is a totally humble, simply, joyful woman, always a pleasure to spend time and converse with, and yet a part of the deep struggle of Nicaraguan women. In this moment I was reminded of the word “solidarity” – a quite perplexing word and concept to develop and hold dear, but an act so simple and crucial: accompanying another with faith and hope in the search and rescue of something that seems lost.

***

August 14, the day in Nicaragua of the Purísima Chiquita… the “junior” of the December 7 celebration of the Immaculate Conception of Mary.* The prelude, the pre-game, that is only celebrate in the city of León…and at my bank team meeting this week...

Grety, my dear co-worker and companion, comes dancing into work all dressed up. “Estámos de Fiesta!” She exclaims. We´re having a party! For Mary, of course. She commands Silvio, “Get out the Vírgin!” meaning, to take out the 2´ statue of Mary so we can arrange an altar. “Margarita, set up the altar!” OH BOY… I think to myself. These devotions to Mary are perhaps the most serious and reverent practices of Catholic Nicaraguans and Grety is quite the commandante when it comes to Mary and the Catholic faith, so I start sweating at the sound of this task. Have you ever seen an altar to Mary? In Latin America? I find Silvio´s coffee table ready as Grety has already set in front of some plants in the garden. I wipe it down with a cloth and set a white lace tablecloth as a bedding to put the Virgin on. Silvio, also totally devout to Mary, literally asks me three times if I have wiped the table down. “Yes, Silvio.” I’m laughing to myself remembering that this is not a common practice “where I am from” and that arranging an ornate altar to Mary isn’t second-nature to me. “Ni importa, Margarita”, Grety tells me… Just make sure it’s beautiful for Mary. So maybe not second-nature, but this is my second-year as a JV in Nicaragua… 2 occasions of Purísima experience under my belt, and I have learned a thing or two about how to arrange an altar to Mary:

• The table must be wiped down well. The space must be clean and pure.
• The table must be covered with a beautiful cloth, lace preferred, that is arranged creatively (i.e.: not logically placed folded square to fit the shape of the table)
• The Virgin must be secure on the table. The statue should not be rocking, unbalanced even the slightest bit, for risk of Her falling.
• Decorate with any leaves, flowers (real or fake), or random cut-out images of happy things that you can find.

I too, loving and adoring of Mary, do my best to make an altar and it appears to be acceptable to Grety and Silvio. Phew! I am calm and pleased as we start the prayers and songs and celebration. During the prayer I admired the altar and statue of Mary and I rejoiced giving thanks and praise to Mary and God for the blessing of being a part of such devotion to Mary. Grety made chicha, the special corn drink, typical of the Purísima, to share with us after the prayers and even made the little baskets of candy and cookies that are given out at the December Purísima. It was so special to be a part of Grety´s passion and effort to celebrate Mary in this way. Grety and Silvio have taught me so much of faith, and specifically adoration to Mary. My love of and prayer to Mary has grown dramatically here, and I am sure is it because of their influence. And later, telling Grety that I would write this story on the blog, she affirmed me, “But yes you COULD make an altar! And did you see how beautiful it turned out!?”

*The Purísima is dedicated to the December 8 Feast of the Immaculate Conception of Mary. It is perhaps comparable in size and grandeur to Christmas in the United States: rooted in the Catholic tradition though it extends to celebration for all in Nicaragua. More on that in December…

***

One of my dear friends from BC, Mike, just left from a week long visit. A blast, from start to finish! Energizing, Rejuvenating, Life-giving, and Laugh-giving. We were out and about the whole week, showing him all kinds of beauty I have experienced here in Nicaragua. From days at my worksite and the “monuments” of Managua to hikes in middle of nowhere/everywhere the mountains, farm, Laguna, and neighbors´ houses, he successfully learned the chorus to “Nicaragua, Nicaragúita,” Nicaragua´s unofficially anthem and, one could certainly argue, the beat of her heart.

We felt much of the pulse the night of August 9, the eve of the celebration of Santo Domingo (Saint Dominic, Patron Saint of Managua). The saint (an action figure of St. Dom) is kept in a church outside of Managua and brought through the capital each year in August to celebrate and worship. So the party on the 9^th is somewhat of a “vigil” held right outside our block, on the eve of the day when Dom will pass on His way out of the city, back to the church. I was thrilled that Mike would be here for this occasion to experience such a cultural event. That night he not only tried the country’s famous rum, Flor de Caña, and heard the sharp noise of the hear-only fireworks, but also saw the many women out on the street selling everything from gum, to cigarettes, cotton candy, candy apples, enchiladas, tacos, grilled meat and chicken, etc. He saw the main attraction of the “Palo Lucido”… the telephone pole greased in animal fat that Nicaraguan men, young boys, and brave JVs try to climb every year for the prizes at the top. He heard the popular music and saw some “night dancing” (the drunk-man, uninhibited dance). Mike even danced himself… swing-danced with yours-truly in the middle of the street, to the great amusement of a circle of starry-eyes fans (Swing dance by “foreigners,” as the DJ called us, is not typical of Nica or this feast day, but thoroughly enjoyed). With a far-from-celebratory feel, he saw the young children of working mothers trying to sleep in the grass by their stands (one boy in a wheel-barrel!) amidst the raucous of the event. Shirtless men passed-out drunk, totally unconscious of their surroundings. A large tattoo-ed man screaming brutally at a young woman, before he hit her powerfully across the face. And then the decorated float that passed around 11 to go pick up the Saint from another church. Upon returning to the house that night, I felt exhausted and sad at the obviously ugly sights of the night. Maybe I wasn’t thrilled that Mike was able to see all that, but still thankful – for it displayed a part of the reality of Nicaragua.

thanks for reading, and loving, and praying! more soon! xoxo

life giving

Life Giving...

...some of the women in Banco 6: xiomara, auxiliadora, esperanza, maria louisa, and yakeline

...esperanza and her boys! Alejandro and the new one

...mary, my community mate, and technically "co worker" too, on a field trip with work
...co-workers eating ice cream in Leon (same field-trip)
...students from St. Louis University who were experiencing abroad on the Mev Puleo trip and our community ... a spontaneous day trip with Josh to Jinotepe where we found a sweet church, a larger-than-life statue of John Paul II, and a delicious bakery
...a mural-reminder of the beauty of Nicaragua

...prayers from you and for you. love you, miss you, happy summer!

Hope in the Struggle

We have arrived back from retreat #2, still reflecting on "Hope in the Struggle"... We have many struggles here... our own and the experiences of those with whom we live and work here in Nicaragua. Though our faith calls us to trust and hope in God and each other, so here we are... believing in Hope...

BUILDING COMMUNITY

(not only on sand)

James, Josh, Margie, Michael, Jenna, Mary

Josue y Margarita

Michael and Jenna

Vivan Las Mujeres! Long Live the Women!

This month in the banks, we made a dream come true. We had an encounter on May 18^th in which we gathered all of the women from the 7 different mini-banks for a “conference” of sorts; something the bank team has been idealizing for awhile. Silvio, Grety and I worked very hard prior to the event as there was so much to organize. We gathered the women with the objectives of strengthening the unity of the women in the banks, allowing them space to get to know the women from the other groups, and uniting forces of the women that have the same businesses so that they might be able to start buying items together at lower prices and through this, benefit them and their clients. We arranged with the women that the Sunday morning activity would count for two workshops* so that they would come [*in a 16 week cycle, the women receive 3 workshops: one of evaluation and two of personal growth]. 111 of the 166 women arrived to a beautifully decorated pavilion with all their names on scrolls and name tags, images of working women, a sign that read “Vivan las Mujeres” and a rose in hand. With a prayer, ice-breakers, group work, and of course, refreshments, we certainly achieved our objectives and I believe most of the women really enjoyed being there.

I loved being a part of celebrating these women. They work so terribly hard and they inspire me daily with their strength and perseverance. These are the women that wake up at 2am to make tortillas from scratch and sell gum and cigarettes from baskets on their heads in the middle of boulevards´ traffic and who often raise their many children on their own. This morning I had to thank God for the privilege to be here in Nicaragua to see these women all together smiling.

Quickie :)

Hello dear friends and family!

Just a quickie to tell you hello, I love you, and that this past month has been FULL of fun... visits from two dear friends, Mary´s family, and James´ family (arriving tomorrow!). The visits have been a reminder of how beautiful the unity of family and friends is, especially after a long time of not seeing each other! I believe that in those airport-arrival type moments, we are really aware of how much we mean to each other... and how much we can miss each other! I have loved meeting my community mates´families, as I loved sharing my own... it all comes down to love, doesn´t it?!

LOVE!

Field Trip

Last Sunday we the Bank Team organized an affordable field trip to the beach for the women! When there is not enough money to put food on the table, recreation is hardly an option. The Banks were able to ease a bit of the financial burden and about 100 went in total, women with their children. No bathing suits, no problem! Just go in with your clothes! ...wade, bathe and enjoy! What a blessing to share with them and their families in the exhiliration of the BEACH! It was one of my favorite days yet.

Haisy, Mary, and Karla chattin´and relaxin´

Doña Moncha and Doña Candida, waiting for the other to go in first! They both went in eventually :)

Xiomara´s mom and son Manuel

Grety, my co-worker in the banks, with her "little pups," Jenny and Paolo

Easter update

Easter People: James, Margaret, birthdayboy Michael, Jenna, Josh, Mary
Sign: complements of my grandmother, Kay Lynch :)

Lent, the Tridium, and Easter Season have always seemed to create a sacred time for me. I’ve decided that because at Easter, unlike other holidays, there are so many less commercial distractions, it seems so much easier to keep it about what it is REALLY about! The “reason for the season” is crystal clear. Being away from home, I remember clearly the family and church traditions I participated in at St. Peter’s. I miss the familiarity and the routine, though I know there is brilliant beauty in the new experiences I have been a part of here…

Holy Thursday mass was an intimate experience. Josh and I went to Adolfo Reyes, one of the Christian-based communities where Father Joe Mulligan, our in-country coordinator, serves as the pastor. I recognized immediately how he is very much a Shepard-like figure in this community of women, gathered around the Word. The church was small, though decorated with posters of Oscar Romero and the UCA martyrs, a hand-made ornament that Joe brought back from Palestine, and many flowers, candles, and cloths. The women arranged the benches to form a big table that we all sat around to celebrate the mass of the Last Supper, and celebrating the first mass! The women brought food to share afterwards which they placed on the table. It was so real to sit around a long rectangular table, with a bunch of women and children, and Joe, so simple and honest, remembering that which Christ taught us to do. And of course, the washing of the feet! A Nicaraguan woman washed my right foot! Talk about humbling. After the mass the women served the food, a bit for everyone, like the loaves and the fishes, and I left feeling so loved and welcomed.

And Good Friday, whoa that was cool! We participated as a community in a Stations of the Cross, Against the War in Iraq and For Peace, around Managua… well, not all around Managua… around two blocks, from the old US Embassy to the new US Embassy. Christ is still being condemned, carrying the cross, falling, and being nailed in the daily struggles of the people. Each station was read and reflected on by a different community in Nicaragua, to demonstrate how the Cross is still being carried today. Among these included a community of widows from Chichigalpa who were representing their campesino (farmer) husbands, who have died because of the pesticides that large sugar companies are using. Another was a community from Arenal, where 1500 people do not have access to potable water. This community has been working for years with the water company to try to make this possible. We as JVs prayed the 9th Station, Jesus falls a Third Time, and spoke about the situation in Guantanamo – the “erosion of human rights” that has been occurring for too long. Too many falls, too many generations, too many presidents that have let this go on. What is next from these struggles, is the cross, and death, and so we asked how long do we let this go on for? There were more than 100 of us, all united in this Way of the Cross, remembering how Jesus was killed because he spoke out against the hypocrites, the wealthy, the imperialism, the lies, the injustice, the hatred and discrimination, and responding to the call to model as Christians. I felt honored to walk with the Nicaraguans, Joe, and my community members in this struggle, remembering the Passion of Christ and the Passion of the People.

Visit of Father Roy and Lisa Sullivan

http://soaw.org/

Nica News

For our community newsletter, "NicaNews," I have written the following up from January and February:

February NicaNews

What time do you get up today?

10 to 6…. Why?
Curiosity
What time did you wake up this morning?
2 in the morning
Really Silvio? For the water?
Yes
With everyone else in the barrio, right?
Yes. It´s horrible. The poor woman, who lives on that other street, what’s her name? the woman that owes us all that money?
Concepción
Yeah, you know… I´ve seen her going up to the main street to collect the water in buckets because it never comes to her house.

***

One day at lunch this week, we gathered around the table and Ana Maria (the Provincial of the Sisters of Sion from Costa Rica), started to say Grace. She mentioned how one day last week I was talking about how difficult the visits to the women in the banks have been. And she prayed [to the best of my memory]… “There is much pain in this neighborhood. Let us remember today how much pain there is in this neighborhood; how much the people suffer, from all the sicknesses, the debts, the spouses; the poverty; so painful.” I don’t remember how she ended the grace (though I know that was the most important part…about how God saves all); my mind went off wandering about how true her first statement was. There is much pain in this neighborhood. There IS SO much pain. I have felt this pain recently — pain from hearing about so much pain! And this has characterized much of my January days.

More Feb NicaNews

Two months into new community! The craziness of Christmas time is fading away, and we are starting to develop a sense of “normalcy” in our home. In Celebration of the upcoming “Día de Amistad y Amor,” I wish to share with you my love of my community mates…

People always ask us if any of us are dating. We usually giggle, joke, and smile, as we attempt to explain the “no-dating” concepts of JVI that are inferred in the handbook. Is it a chastity clause? Serious discernment is HIGHLY encouraged if community mates are considering dating. Though many former JVs of Nicaragua have dated each other! JVs of other communities have dated and could potentially be dating right now. Some of our last “dates” were well over a year ago, and JVI Nicaragua has successfully survived over a year without anyone dating each other! In this month of Valentines, I wish to confess to you, friends and family, that I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually attracted to my community mates*. Each of them in their own way… one way or another, and while the extent of the feelings may vary by person, by day and sometimes by the hour, I would date any one of them. I don’t, because it is clear that we are already committed to each other as community mates. But they would surely be super life-companions! And “without hope or agenda” of dating any of them now or in some distant future, I confess that I very deeply love each of them.

I think it was unavoidable that I fell in love with them, constantly being drawn to them… we wake up together, we pray together, we eat together, we work together, we market-shop together, we clean together, we sit in rocking chairs together, we play together, we play with the kids together, we visit neighbors together, we travel together, we cry together, we laugh together, we debrief together, we watch movies together, we save/spend money together, we read together, walk together, run together, brush our teeth together, sing together, struggle together, dream together and we go to bed together… though there’s a wall or two that separates us. And this isn’t all. And this somehow works out! And this channels my faith! And causes me immense growth! And brings me perfect joy! This living-together-ness/ fake-dating/ imaginary-marriage/ community grasps why heart in a way that invites me closer to God, everyday. Why wouldn’t I want to date any one of them?

I look forward to seeing them in the morning… before I go to sleep and when I wake up. I used to not be able to sleep at night because I was so excited about the next morning. Thank goodness that has faded, though their peaceful morning bed heads and sleepy eyes still warm my searching heart. I love the frequent nights when I am the last to bed, and they are all resting their tried and true souls. I love hugging them at the Sign of Peace at mass, because it is for me the most authentic contact we have in the week. I love talking with them… in circles or one-on-one… hashing out the great questions of life, over and over, and never finishing. I love how angry and sad they can get about the injustices we experience here. We share these heart-breaking moments, and second-hand pain and I believe that through these, we are strengthened in common dreams. I love when we socialize with others and find that instance in a wink, a nudge, or a smile, when I know we are both really glad the other is there. I love fumbling over Spanish with them; especially when we reach that vulnerability when neither of us is really sure that we understood, moreover knows how to respond. How they’ve comforted me in moments of sadness or outrage, and how they’ve delighted in my joys. How faithful they are! And they have committed to going to mass every Sunday with me and the community! They do little things around the house, even when no one notices. They cook delicious dinners. And even when they’re not THAT delicious, or when they’re quite spicy, or the same thing we had for lunch, I still love it because it is blessed food that we share, because they made it, and because we are gathered around a Table to be nourished by it. And they make me laugh!! A lot! And in the most innocent, non-violent, loving ways. We are not without our faults, failures, fears, or frustrations. They challenge me in ways I never could have imagined (see James’entry). We disagree. And agree to disagree. And through it all, I know there is a level of truth and love that I have definitely crossed.

My Febuary “Casa Confession.” Jenna, Michael, Mary, Josh, James, I love you. I cherish you. You are so beautiful. Your eyes. Your eyebrows when you raise them the way only you can. Your hair as it grows and when you cut it. Your morning look. Your dressed-up look. Your “I just got home from work” look. Your community night, “I´m really tired” look. Your smell. Especially when you’ve been hand-washing clothes for an hour! By your presence and our living-together-ness, you have taught me that any future dating of mine should be no less thrilling than the thrill of the coexistence I have experienced with you.

*This extends to former community mates.

From our January NicaNews

I made a sign for the airport that exclaimed, “Just What I Always Wanted!!!” A common Nuzzolese expression for Christmas morning when Santa would bring us exactly what we had been desiring. On December 26 I held up the sign at the Sandino airport and waited joyfully with my whole community for the arrival of my whole family. Just what I always wanted! Butterflies tossed in my stomach as I watched the people come out of customs into baggage claim. That’s them!! There they are!! That’s my family!! OH my gosh I couldn’t believe it. After such an intense year of learning and growing and laughing and crying, there before my eyes, on the other side of this big glass window, was my family! Mom, Dad, Lizzy, Coll, and Pat! They came running over to me, though still on their side of the window, the same beaming beautiful faces, exploding with Nuzzolese energy and excitement. Though Pat was a foot taller, they all looked exactly the same. Same flesh and bones; tears streaming down their faces, as when I saw them last, though this time with huge smiles. We waved and jumped up and down and cried and laughed, rejoicing in our physical proximity! They huddled in a line, arms around each others’ shoulders just looking at me from the other side. GO GET YOUR BAGS! I kept trying to tell them as my body reacted physically, almost heaving, out of breath with excitement. They just stood there for a bit, tearing, and smiling at me. Go get your bags so I can hug you, I kept repeating and pointing to the conveyer belt. Eventually they got their bags and we embraced for 8 days in the heat and adventure of Nicaragua and the AC and comfort of a hotel. Just what I always wanted. To just stare into their eyes and to feel their skin and hug them tightly and hold their hands, after a year and 21 days of dreaming about them. Just what I always wanted.

quickie

Hello friends and family and friends of family and friends!!! I have been spending way too much time away from the computer, more time in prayer and community and work, though I will write soon, I promise! Thank you for your love and prayers! I miss you alot!
The canyon in Somoto!