Leaving Home and Going Home...

I am in my last week in the beautiful country of Peru- knowing I am leaving with uncertainty of when I will be coming back.  The plethora of emotions I am feeling right now cannot be captured in words.  I am not very good at saying goodbye- I rather prefer the 'See you later!'- but I have put down roots here (which I somethimes lament about not being deeper) but they are here and that makes leaving pretty hard.

I think part of why this is so hard is because the experience has been so rich.  I have grown, changed, learned tremendously and just found out more about who I am. I have loved, been loved and served the best I have been able.

I have friends here, a community of faith, a basic cultural understanding, a decent grasp of about 3 cities, I feel like I could take off my shoes and stay a while.

But at the same time, I know it is time.  I miss Dayton, I miss my friends and family from there and even at times I miss my culture.

Last weekend began the series of 'despedidas' that I will have while here.  I said goodbye to our near 50 agentes pastorales at my last jornada at our house. Peruvians are such kind people that at these type of events they always share with you the sentiments that they have.  I received beautiful words from Pepito, Modesto, Benito, Faustino and Teresa sang me a song.

Saying 'See you later!' to my community and friends will be the hardest.  They have lived with me, accompanied me when I was sick, shared meals with me, gone dancing, traveled and shared in the experience of the mission.  I will certainly miss them and this place and these mountains, who knew I could find my heart home in a place so far away and so different?

But at the same time there is excitement in the transition.  There are job possibilities, two new communities waiting to welcome me, my Ahava community, a familiar city, kind words and embraces, weddings, Final Vows...a new chapter of excitement.  This new time too will be graced and rich with blessing- leaving home and going home: all part of the journey.

Celebracion de la Palabra con Comunion at the last jornada- one of the many graces of the missionary year- presiding for communion services and sharing Christ with the people

Benito giving me a 'good bye hug' with Pepito looking on

Choking back tears at our last jornada- everyone singing 'Go with God' 

My last pueblo visit to Suro- where after our theme the gente organized a despedida with cebada cafe  and sweet breads

Home

The Calling- a poem by Robert S. Henderson

I have been called

By the Holy One who has always known me better than I have known myself.

If I do not respond to the call

Most likely

I will end up somewhere I am not at home

I will be a stranger in my own skin

I will feel I know more than I do

I will not know how wounded I am

I will not know the unseen presence

That has always supported me

But if I do respond to the call

I will need to surrender to my life’s meaning

I will find that

Enemies are often friends in disguise

Bringing out what is inside me

Will save me from that which will destroy me

The night dreams are connections to what I need to know

The places of hurt are also places of blessing

The right people appear in my life at the right time

The money I have is all the money I need now

In darkness there is a candle

My body is an expression of who I am

Asking for help is a sign of strength not weakness

In silence I will find a friend who has always known me

My faith will often be found after I decide to take the first step

My courage will come like the early morning’s dawn.

My calling will bring me

To a place where God has always been

To an urgency where never again will

I delay to live

To music that will take me to my soul

To poetry that will become daily food

To risks that will take me to my heart

To follow my call

I will need to know how to go apart from the crowd

And follow a that others may never understand

I will need to commit myself to my life

Settling only when I find its meaning and purpose

Saying yes to my passion

Bearing the aloneness of my own authority

And in time finding others

Who are walking the same direction. 

As my last month in Peru begins wrapping up I find myself in a rather reflective mood.  I am working on a piece for a group of UD professors who were here a few weeks ago and am reading through my journal trying to sum up who I am and where I have been this past year.  I do not have any real clear conclusions yet- I think these will come a bit more the longer I remove myself from the experience but one thing I do have a sense of home. 

Here in Peru- I am finally home! I am bilingual, have friends, a loving community, a basic grasp of the culture- all of these things in time to come back to Dayton.  But is a funny thing, this transition too because at the same time I am being called back to another home.  The intimate friendships I have back in the States, my family, and the opportunity to live in community with the Marianist Sisters are calling me back to my other home.  It will be difficult to leave here- certainly- especially as I am unsure when I will be returning- but it will be time. 

The above poem- The Calling- is a poem I reflected on while I was on a silent retreat right before coming to Peru.  As I read back over it- there are many lines that speak to my experience here. 

“If I do not respond to the call most likely I will end up somewhere I am not at home I will be a stranger in my own skin I will feel I know more than I do I will not know how wounded I am I will not know the unseen presence that has always supported me” 

My call was to move to Peru and although it was not home at first, it has become a home.  In responding to this call, I have learned immensely about who I am and how culture affects me- reminding me that I am a stranger to some- but not to myself.  When I graduated from UD- I thought I knew a good amount of things, that I had learned a lot in my university experience, but being here I have been reminded that there is always more to learn and that without God my life would be nothing. 

“My faith will often be found after I decide to take the first step my courage will come like the early morning’s dawn. My calling will bring me to a place where God has always been to an urgency where never again will I delay to live to music that will take me to my soul to poetry that will become daily food to risks that will take me to my heart”

My faith here needed to be rediscovered.  I took the giant leap of moving here to a ‘strange place’ with a ‘strange culture’ and ‘foreign language’.  I had to re-learn how to pray and find God in daily life, because after all the words we were using started off as unfamiliar to me.  I had to learn how to embrace my new, peaceful surrounding and to find my way in a culture that was new.  But my calling to be here did bring a sort of urgency.  The culture here begs each person to live in the present and the streets and churches are filled with music.  I learned to dance, to play guitar, to let the music (new music) speak to my soul. 

“To follow my call I will need to know how to go apart from the crowd and follow a that others may never understand I will need to commit myself to my life settling only when I find its meaning and purpose saying yes to my passion bearing the aloneness of my own authority and in time finding others who are walking the same direction.”

To follow my call- I set off on an uncharted path- away from my friends and miles from home.  Some folks did not (still don’t) understand what I am doing and why, but I know that this was the right choice and it has helped me discover my life’s meaning.  I was sometimes lonely, but in those moments learned more about who I am.  And thankfully in the midst of this journey, I have found others to accompany me.  Some live here in Peru and work in the ministries that I am working in.  Some are Vowed Marianists on this continent and others.  And some are friends and family who have been supporting me from afar- through messages, letters, prayers and chats. 

We are walking in the same direction- to grow and know ourselves and serve God the best way we know how.  Sometimes we take one another by the hand- to offer support when the going is really difficult and sometimes we are at such a distance that the only unity we can have is through prayer.  But this is enough for us to remember that we can always be at home!  

Home: The UD Group!

Home: My Community and Friends

Home: Padre Wilder and Hermana Catalina: Dear Friends

Home: On the Hill that Overlooks Otuzco

Home: The Simple Chapel of Pichampampa

Home: The Fog Engulfed Mountainside in Tambillo

Home: The Moche River that Passes through Otuzco

This is vocation...

This past weekend on the eve of Pentecost Sunday- I accompanied a group from our local CLM on a pilgrimmage from Trujillo to Otuzco.  The group came up with the idea to walk the 65km (that is around 40 miles) to give thanks to God for all the blessings and graces of this life.  They asked me to accompany them- as a sort of spiritual guide on the journey.

We began at sea level around 3:30 pm on Saturday.  We had a little prayer- asking for grace and strength on the journey and offering several petiticions before departing.

From L to R- Benito, Don Otto, Leoncio, Doris, Pepito and Don Isidro-in the opening prayer

From L to R- Deimer, Perez, Neder, the women of Casmiche, and Angela- in the opening prayer

We set out on the pilgrimmage as 20, young people and adults from more than 6 pueblos.  Everyone on the pilgrimmage for a different reason.  We would have been 21- but the father of Faustino passed away the night before the pilgrimmage- so he stayed back in his pueblo to have the velorio to honor his dad.  We lifted him up in a special way on our pilgrimmage as he was the head of the CLM group who proposed and organized the whole event.  

Starting off strong

We started off in a big group 

Before dividing a little in smaller groups that were at our own pace

We are going to walk 65 km....ahhh

The first six hours of the pilgrimmage were pista (that is paved road), at the three hour point we paused for about 10 minutes before continuing on to Shiran- which would be our dinner stop.  At three hours everyone remained in pretty good spirits.  

At the six hour mark-we stopped for dinner.  Everyone was visibly exhausted; but kilometer wise we had reached the half way point.  We shared how we were feeling, changed socks and shirts and gave an update of our progress to Chami Radio.  To sit down and eat, after walking for 6 straight hours was wonderful.  When I reached Shiran- I was not sure I could continue.  My feet were not blistered yet but it was 9:30p and I was just exhausted.  But the majority of the group continued on and Jose Luis, who was accompanying us in the camioneta- said 'You can do it! See you in Samne'.  So off we went.

The leg of the journey between Shiran and Samne was the only unpaved part of our journey.  It was on the 'carretera vieja' (old road) which is dust and rocks.  My unfortunate timing after dinner meant that my group (with whom I walked the first 6 hours, at my pace) had already left and I was now to accompany the slower group.  (I have nothing against the slower walkers, it is just very difficult to walk at a pace that is not your own, you get tired a lot faster) So I headed out at my pace which meant I was a bit ahead of the big group.  I used the first hour of more of less solitude- to give thanks for the graces in life. My friends, family (near and far) and the opportunities God has given me.  It was a wonderful hour of reflection with God- in the darkness of the night.  But after the hour- a strange thing happened- all of a sudden I wanted to cry.  No- I wasn't sad- just exhausted- and while I tried to listen for God's voice- I was just overwhelmed and started to choke back tears.  So I shouted back to Eloy and Leoncio- telling them that I needed some company and thankfully Leoncio obliged.  I needed the community on this journey- it was impossible to complete the walk on my own.  I tried to make conversation with Leoncio- but he was not a big talker- he just walked peacefully even offering to carry my backpack (cross) for part of the journey.  

We finally arrived at Samne at 1am.  We were scheduled to sleep for a few hours in the chapel- to regain our strength; but naturally there were a few glitches in this plan.  When we arrived we knocked on Madaleine's door- because she had the chapel key- no response.  We tried three or four times to wake her up with no success.  Additionally- Jose Luis and Isela were trapped between two gates that the camioneta could not pass through- so we had to walk around to find the ronda (sort of like a local police person).  After this long search- the camioneta was finally freed- but the gente decided that they did not want to sleep two or three hours in Samne (plus we couldn't get the chapel open) so we continued on to Casmiche. 

We arrived in Casmiche at around 3 am.  We saw that the velorio for the dad of Faustino was still going on and so we arrived to support and be present with him.  The majority of the group entered into Faustino's house and blessed his Father's body with Holy Water, then sat and prayed with him.  The only people present at this time were Faustino and his brother and the arrival of 20 people was such a surprise for him.  We had the guitar with us in the camioneta- so Jose and I sang some songs- meanwhile all the campesinos who were seated- took a little nap.  We sang until about 4 am- at which point Faustino thanked us with teary eyes and told us to continue on.  This experience with Faustino strengthened me for the journey and reminded me that this is vocation.  We were walking for vocation and were supporting a fellow community member at 4am in the midst of one of his most challenging hours.  The Spirit of God is alive and well, and our response to this Spirit is vocation. 

There were only 4 hours left from Casmiche to Otuzco and ten of us set off in a big group to complete the pilgrimmage.  At this point everyone was walking fairly slowly- so we stayed together.  We welcomed the new dawn with 'Alegre la Manana' and when we finally reached Otuzco we sang joyfully 'Hoy Senor te Damos Gracias'.  The camioneta greeted us with the new dawn- supplying us with hard candies and water- and as each time before giving us the strength to carry on and finish strong.  Every time the camioneta met us- it was like new hope- a little burst of energy to keep us going.  

When we arrived in Otuzco at 8:15am- we visited the Virgen de la Puerta before retiring to the showers and beds.  

We had done it, together as a community.  A very difficult walk of 65 kilometers for 13.5 hours.  We did not do it for obligation, nor for pride, but as a response to God, in the form of vocation.  

I learned a lot in this pilgrimmage.  I had the opportunity to listen to the stories of many.  I had the opportunity to experience the power of encouragement.  I learned that I could be united with friends and family far away through prayer- even when I couldn't be present for very important moments of their lives.  I learned that I can do what I imagined impossible by the grace and Spirit of God in the presence of community.  

A rich experience indeed of the Spirit's action this Pentecost weekend!

On the mountains that move me and the fickle human heart...

Last week I spent three days in the campo in the community of Pichampampa.  I went on mission there by myself for the first time.  When you are by yourself in a farming community- and do not have skills, ability or stamina to work for long hours in the chacra (fields)- you have a good amount of the day to yourself.  I used this 'alone time' to go for long walks and to visit families in other communities.

While I was climbing the mountains, I felt an incredible peace.  I did not feel alone; I felt accompanied by the mountains; my human heart was free to love and God was with me.
When I returned to the house where I was staying- I gathered leisurely around the table with Jesus, Maria, Jose, Marceliano, Ricardina, Juan y Maria.  We shared lunch and conversed about the day, the chacra, culture, travel and much more.  I can speak to them now with ease (my Spanish is no longer a stumbling block in my ministry) but I can also listen to them from the heart.

On Sunday we had a Jornada (workshop) with our Agentes Pastorales.  My enthusiasm for this Jornada was unparalleled.  The three day visits to the communities that we have been making have been difficult.  After almost every visit I have come home with fleas and digestive challenges. In the pueblos we don't sleep very well, because the beds (or floor) are hard and it is cold.  It is a very challenging and taxing mission to be present to the folks for multiple days; but this challenging and taxing mission is absolutely worth it.

The Agentes welcome us into their homes, offering the best of what they have for us.  They permit us to be a part of their daily reality- sharing around their table, sleeping in the homes, witnessing the difficult labor of farming by hand.  They permit us to be community and Marianist Family with them.  

After nine months together- we are finally community/Family.  We understand each other and this understanding leads to vulnerability.  When we were doing dinamicas at the beginning of the Jornada this weekend- the Agentes were very engaged and animated, sharing songs, goofy hand motions, and moving about while greeting each other with joy.  I felt the presence of something within me say, 'how beautiful that a group of mountain farmers who live in distant pueblos come together in trust and offer their whole selves under our roof'. This is God's grace.  They come from near and far to learn, experience God and be community.  And as members of the Centro de Formacion we are here simply to serve.  Certainly to share our insights about the faith; but most importantly to provide a safe refuge for people to come when they are tired and weary.  Really, all we do is live- trying our best to be God's instruments-acknowledging when we fail with laughter and humility.

I feel an incredible joy to be feeling at home here.  Yet am panged by a sadness that my year in Otuzco is drawing to a close.  The people here and the mountains have captured my heart and will surely influence who I am for years to come.  In these final months I will cherish my new community and live in the hope that our mutual seed sowing will bear great fruits in the future.

Jesus bringing in the sheep at the end of the day

One of the views on my walk 

The mountains that move me

Alabare a mi Senor

This year my celebration of Holy Week and the Easter Tridduum were marked by a different cultural richness, set of colors and processions.

Domingo de Ramos- Palm Sunday

An image of Jesus rides in on a donkey- we processed through the streets singing our praises to the Lord before Mass

For the Tridduum I was invited to share the mission experience with the community of Pichampampa.

The first big hurdle was arriving in our pueblo; when ten minutes away (by car) the camioneta (our Toyota truck) overheated and we had to all get out of the car and think about how we would arrive in the pueblo.  I hopped on the back of a motorcycle and rode up to the community to inform Jesus and Maria (the two sisters we were visiting) that the car broke down and that we needed to bring down a donkey to bring up the heavy bags with the food that we would be sharing for our mission.  After resolving this small snafu...Yrene (a wonderful young woman from Otuzco) and I were ready to begin the mission.

Holy Thursday
With no Mass- was going to be a special experience and by God's grace, a special and grace filled experience it was.  After preparing the chapel, deciding to make a monstrance out of paper and doing our best to broom sweep the floor with a plant that kind of had a broom shape, we were ready.
We began the evening with introductions, only candle light illuminating the little adobe chapel.  The gente listened attentively to the scripture reading, and we shared pan (traditional little breads of Otuzco) and wine, then explained about washing feet.
"Jesus washed the feet of the disciples, whose feet, like yours, traversed in sandals across the lands.  Feet are often our dirtiest part and for Jesus to wash the feet of his disciples was an act of very humble service.  He took the role of a servant and cleaned their dirtiest parts just like his love and mercy cleans the dirtiest part of our hearts.  He did this cleaning to give us an example to live by, to serve others, and to clean away the dirty parts in the lives of others through forgiveness.  Let us pray, meditate and think about the ways we are going to be like Jesus beginning in this Easter Season while we receive the same gift of foot washing that the disciples received."
Shedding my poncho, I got down on my knees with Yrene and Jesus and we washed feet.  The floor was cold and hard but the water was boiled so that it would warm the worn feet of the campesinos.  Shedding their yankis- a type of recycled rubber sandal- or their battered and tattered shoes; the campesinos opened themselves up to having their feet washed and touched by a missionary from a foreign land.

Washing feet

For many this was the first washing in many days- as their cracked feet were caked in mud from the caminos and the chacras (fields).  The experience for me was very intimate- much more was present in that moment than dirty water and lavendar soap- there was blessing, intimacy and ultimately grace.
After we washed feet- we shared again the scripture- this time focusing on the Eucharist.  We shared about the importance of this simple food and drink poured out for us in love, then invited those who wished to receive communion to receive.

Sharing Communion

Finally we exposed Jesus in our monstrance and illuminated my flashlight in our chalice.  What followed was pure action of the Spirit- prayers, songs, offerings, petitions, and silence-abundant graces in our chapel.

Our Little Monstrance- we rested Jesus in the mouth of the chalice in a little aluminum foil 

Good Friday

We rose early in the morning to begin the walk to Otuzco.  We arrived just in time to begin the Via Crucis.  Starting up at the Cruz Blanca- we listened to Jesus proclaim to the crowds the good news before descending to the middle of town with Christ on a burro in the joy of Palm Sunday.

Domingo de Ramos

When we got to the Plaza de Armas it was there that Jesus gifted with a little red flower that had been tossed to him in our joyful procession.

La Ultima Cena

El Jardin de Gesthemani

We continued the story, witnessing this representation in front of our very eyes and when Jesus was before Pilate I heard a cry from the crowd "Madrina, Madrina!!" (Godmother, Godmother).  Looking around I spotted Freddy, my godchild who lives in Machigon.  He passed under the rope where I was and ran up to greet me.  We watched and waited together as Christ was condemned and Freddy huddled close to me as Christ was pushed by the Roman Soldiers.

We followed in the footsteps of Christ with a certain expectation, we both knew the end of the story, but for me to experience this dramatization with a little boy trustingly taking my hand was a different way to view the story.  As we were ascending the mountain with Christ, Freddy whispered to me, 'Never abandon me' and I thought about the words of Christ on the cross perfectly juxtaposed with my little godchild.

Certainly a grace filled day to share with him and at the end of the day, Yrene and I headed back up to Pichampampa.

Holy Saturday
In the community of Pichampampa we gathered early in the morning to begin our journey to visit the sick and elderly of the community.  We walked to six different families- praying with them, asking for God's blessing and offering an opportunity for communion.  The gatherings were small, but beautiful, and on the journey we experienced God's grace through nature and good conversation.

Along the path Juan, his wife and I paused for a waterfall photo 

Yrene and I pausing to find God in the nature

The view is just breathtaking this time of year because it is the rainy season all the fields are green and rich with life 

In the afternoon, we gathered in the chapel to bless water for the campesinos to take to their homes.  After a rousing rendition of 'Bautizame Senor con tu Espiritu', a renewal of baptismal promises and a mixing of some pre-blessed water with the rest and my Sign of the Cross- we were 'all set'.  Everyone happy, holy and blessed- we were ready to begin the journey back down to Otuzco for the Vigil in the parish.


Easter Sunday
3am-Plaza de Armas, Otuzco- we began the Mass of Easter Vigil with a bonfire.

El Grupo Bodas de Cana- a faith community of married couples in the parish- was very animated at 3am leading us in song

Padre Narcisso walked up and down the streets with the megaphone greeting the Easter Morning- until we had enough folks to begin the Mass 

We celebrated the Mass with great beauty, baptizing four adults and rejoicing with them as we renewed our baptismal promises and approached the font and Eucharistic Table.  A large part of the Pichampampa community was present for the Mass and it was good to celebrate with them.  After Mass ended around 5:30a we processed with the Risen Christ and Mary through the streets of Otuzco. In the procession, I even took a turn carrying Mary.  

Processing with Mary and praying the Rosary

When we arrived back in the Plaza de Armas, a little girl dressed as an angel, was lowered from a balcony to proclaim the good news that Christ had risen.  

"Rejoice Mary, Jesus is Risen!"

The Risen Christ

The angel changed Mary's clothes to red for rejoicing 

We then followed the images back into the church for Easter Sunday Mass.  After a brief 'comparitir' of pan (bread) and cebada (a sweet coffee made out of toasted wheat) I headed home.  

A few hours later, the door bell rang and there was little Freddy and his brother Einer.  They had stopped by to visit the godmother of Freddy on Easter Morning. I was very touched by their visit and gesture.  We visited for a little while, talking about life from the perspectives of a ten and twelve year old.  Then Deysi and I checked the almacen (storage room) for some clothes and shoes to fit them.  We sent them off with bags of clothes for Easter Sunday.

A blessed and full Tridduum experience indeed!  Christ is Risen! Aleluya! 

God's grace and beauty found through journeying

The month of February was super busy, with a hiatus from ministry due to the rainy season in Otuzco, I took to the roads and air to meet people and see some sights.  The month was a blessed time of rejuvenation, spiritual awakening, God's grace in nature and presence on the journey.

Here is a small photo diary of things I saw and people I encountered.

1st Stop: Huaraz, Peru with Deysi 

Laguna Chinancocha

Chavin

La única cabeza clave que todavía existe en su pared original

El Nevado Pastoruri 

While we were there all by ourselves, it started snowing....God's grace 100%

Stop 2: Callao, Peru

 We had a festive paseo to La Punta with Monica, Hno Felipe, and Luis

 Stop 3: Bogota, Colombia

I flew to Bogota to spend a week getting to know the Marianist Sisters Communities that live there and what a graced week it was

Gold Museum in Bogota

Almuerzo con la comunidad 'El Refugio'

La comunidad en el Colegio Madre Adela

La Comunidad 'El Noviciado' where I lived the week that I was in Bogota.  Thank you Sisters for you hospitality and for sharing the Family Spirit.  

 Stop 4: Arequipa, Peru 

El Ekeko- apparently he is lucky...

Monasterio Santa Catalina 

These little candles littered the monastery 

I went to visit Colca Canyon- where I met my friend the aguila

Alpaca Crossing?? For all of you at home with the Deer Crossing signs...

La Plaza de Armas de Arequipa- this view is from the roof of the Cathedral

Stop 5: Cajamarca, Peru with Deysi

We paused at a taller for stonecraft- which along with dairy and textiles Cajamarca is famous for

This bear did a little dance for us at Granja Porcon

These ducks came running at Granja Porcon when they saw we had snacks to share

Las Ventanillas de Otuzco- not the Otuzco where I live but another one-near Cajamarca...the ventanillas are ancient burial tumbs

Cumbe Mayo- an ancient civilization from around 1000BC...we passed through total darkness in this cave/tunnel to arrive at the actual acheological remains

Pausing to reflect for a moment in above the city of Cajamarca

Deysi taking in the beauty of the Banos del Inca

La Catedral de Cajamarca

These are some of the photo highlights of what I saw, who I met and adventures I experienced.  I was so graced to have the opportunity to spend time learning about this great part of the world where I live.  Now it is time to settle back in to ministry here in Otuzco.  I am ready and excited to start off our new ministerial year with the pueblos.