for every breath a song.

29 noviembre 2009

Mis queridos,

Happy belated Thanksgiving, and advent blessings to you all from Honduras! November has come and gone in the blink of an eye. The storms of rainy season have cooled things off and slowed things down around here, making cold showers even colder, increasing volunteer consumption of tea/coffee/hot chocolate astronomically, and “forcing” us to spend many nights huddled together in our living room, laughing and talking and enjoying being together. Today, however, I’m writing to you from sunny skies, and the ocean waves, blue as ever, rhythmically crash against the shore just yards outside our front door. It feels a little bit different than advent did last year, certainly, but the Christmas music that’s been playing in the sala since after Thanksgiving dinner and the presence of some truly incredible, prayerful, spirited people around me remind me that Christ is indeed coming soon, and that God continues to live and move and laugh and breathe as the Spirit shoots through all sorts of people all over the world.

So – there’s lots to tell since I’ve last written! Although our school year doesn’t officially begin until February, I now feel legitimate calling myself “Profa,” as we’ve started with both “Escuelita” (Honduran summer school for kids who didn’t pass a subject or are otherwise struggling academically) and “Escuela Invierno” (Finca summer camp for our smallest little rompers, ages 12 and under.) Teaching (slash, chaos-controlling) for these two programs has certainly thrown fistfuls of both challenges and blessings in my direction, usually in equal amounts. I’ve encountered behavior problems of all shapes and sizes, struggled with the best ways to teach math with decimals (in Spanish), inflicted plenty of consequences on the little ones, and gone home plenty of days feeling pretty exhausted, frustrated, and broken. At the same time that our kids can often wear on me, though, they fill my spirit to the brim with their silly antics and their laughter and their ceaseless joy and wonder. It’s hard NOT to laugh, for example, when a child gets a naranja (orange) stuck in his pants pocket for a good half hour, and half the class eagerly tries to help him “quitar” it (take it out.) (“Profa… pero cabia cuando la meti!” = “But it fit when I put it in!”) It’s hard NOT to smile when one of your students, frustrated that she does in fact have to attend school for all five weeks of Escuelita and not just one, exclaims, “Bah, Profa! Five weeks! That’s almost a month!” (I didn’t have the heart to tell her that no, Jessica, five weeks is actually MORE than a month. Looks like we will be working on units of time right after decimals…) It’s hard NOT to feel joy when your hands are constantly being grabbed by the little ones, eager to laugh with you and sing with you and share with you their stories and games, eager to follow you, placing in you their trust that you will care for them and protect them. It’s hard NOT to be filled. And while it’s certainly draining, too, and sometimes the dark days seem to outnumber the bright ones, our kids remain constant points of light in my days, and remind me why I’m actually here to begin with.

Thanksgiving was duly celebrated in Finca style – by preparing a huge, traditional meal to share with all of our house parents and tias, Franciscan sisters, employees, neighbors, and local Honduran friends. This year’s menu included turkey and stuffing with gravy, cranberry sauce, two types of potatoes, salad, rolls, green bean casserole, apple crisp and pumpkin pie… which was no small undertaking to prepare for over 60 people! The preparations began weeks in advance, with many special ingredients brought down with visitors from the states… then a spreadsheet was created, explaining who would cook what, and where, and at what time, over a two day period using 6 or 7 different stoves and ovens. I was assigned pumpkin pie duty, and was one of the lucky ones allowed to use an indoor oven instead of having to cook over a wood-burning fire. Nevertheless, the work began at 5:30 am so we’d have plenty of time for all of our pies – 14 in total, in the end! Of course, everyone took a break from the cooking mid-morning to play a fairly cut-throat but good-natured game of football on the campo. My team lost 26-7, but fun was had by all, and only a few injuries were sustained (a minorly sprained ankle – mine – and a near-black eye – thankfully NOT mine.) Cooking at the Finca is a sort of battle against nature, as unfortunately both ants AND rats have made a home in our house as of late, but by some act of God we actually made it to mealtime with all the food intact (though there WAS a close call with the pies, which ended in the violent death by Raid of about 300 black ants.) Always the adventure…

In the end, the food was great and everyone had their fill… but what I’ll remember most isn’t the three turkeys, cooked for hours in our neighbors’ oven and then driven to the Finca in a truck, or the hours spent taking pies out of the oven, but the time we spent together, laughing and talking and sharing and recalling all the blessings in our lives, how much we have to be grateful for. Before the meal began, we strange mix of Hondurans and gringos gathered outside our home and joined hands and said a silent prayer of gratitude for all we’ve been given… and as I grasped the palms of those around me, volunteers and house parents and neighbors and children, I realized how fitting it seems to gather around the table and to give back, in some small way, to those who have given us so much. These people have welcomed us and received us; they have helped us with our Spanish, allowed us to teach their children, taught us about their culture, allowed us to make mistakes, and shared their lives and joys and stories with us… and so we gather around the table to break bread and give thanks and compare directions, recalling the presence of a good and bountiful God who pours out endless blessings on God’s people.

Know that I miss you all and love you dearly, and am hoping and praying that you are all preparing room for Christ’s coming in your respective corners of the world. Please do be in touch when you can – I would love to hear from you!

In peace and in gratitude,

Erin

“Best of all is it to preserve everything in a pure, still heart, and let there be for every pulse a thanksgiving, and for every breath a song.” – Konrad von Gesner