I'm not sure how to start writing.
I know I should write, but it feels like a really big undertaking. I know people back home read my blog, and the thought of trying to encapsulate this experience so far in a single blog post, paired with the perfect, slightly sarcastic tone, and just the right amount of self-depricating humor halts me. I have things I want to write about and share. I made a list. I started writing a reflection on kindness back in the middle of September but never finished it. There's the sunsets I see every day as I ride my first bus home, which reminds me there is beauty in each day. There's my kids at my second job site. They are dirty andbeautiful. There is the feeling I experience when Michelle hugs me, or when Genesis finally mastered adding zero to other numbers. I'm convinced that if everyone would feel even an ounce of the joy I experienced that day seeing her sit a little taller in her chair, we'd all be floating, and yet I don't have the words (in Spanish or English) to accurately describe it. All I can say is I'm almost moved to tears remembering it now. I could write about missing people back home. How sometimes I can't sleep because I wake up to wonder how someone is doing, or I space out at my worksites trying to figure out a way to be in two places at once, and ultimately get mad at myself for failing to be present. I could write about having lice. Yeah, that's right. That sucked, but ultimately showed me how compassionate my communitymates are and how much gratitude my heart is capable of. I could write about how tiring it is to be cat-called. Or about the time a man yelled in my face once I sat down on the bus, but I don't know what he said because when I am in these moments my spanish-processing part of my brain shuts down and I just stare. Then again, these things happen at home, but I understand the words shared. I could write about all the ways I mess up. There's the time we were celebrating our two month anniversary of being in Ecuador and I ordered french fries for our table, and when they came it was a plate of boiled baby potatoes. Or last week, when after taking communion by mouth for two months, I extended my hands AND opened my mouth at the same time, confusing the priest, the altar server, and myself. There's the fact that I still don't know how to say, "put those in the box," because I don't know the word for "box." I could also write about how, despite praying multiple times daily, attending Mass, and being a volunteer in a program called Rostro de Cristo (Face of Christ), I don't allow God to sit next to me and be in this experience with me as I process. And I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I don't know how we let people stay like this. I'm not saying that all the people here should live like we do in the U.S. because quite frankly, that system has its own brokenness. But how do we keep moving forward? How do I explain the reality that last month my community was without water for more than a week, and woke up one morning without electricity, too. I'm not even talking drinking, or running water. I mean no water. My heart feels broken by the things I see and hear daily, but quickly mended with each hug and laugh. When I stop, sit, and talk to God those wounds open again. When you know the names of the poor your view of the situation changes. It hurts more. And I guess that's part of why we stay away. It's a form of protection, a way to guard our minds and hearts. But that's not what hearts are for. Personally, I have kept my own heart pretty guarded throughout my life, and this experience is busting through those walls and kicking down the doors I've built to keep pain and fear out. As I sit with God, my mind goes to the infamous quedstion, "What do I do?" And that's the trouble. I took a vow in this program and I am called to BE not to DO. It's a concept that is both crippling and transformative, infuriating and magical. So, that is my aim. To BE sad, to BE present, to BE grateful, to BE hugged, to BE awoken, to BE challenged, to BE loved, to BE fed, to BE embarrassed, to BE confused, to BE joyful, to BE here, to BE uncomfortable, to BE changed, and to BE honest. I guess I'll write about that.... and I will also share this picture of these amazing women I am blessed to BE here with, and our dogs. :)
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AuthorHi! I'm Kate and I am spending the next year in Ecuador as a volunteer with a service organization. I am using this platform to share pieces of the journey as I go. Archives
May 2019
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