29 de Junio: FLOHA
There is really nothing that scares me more than the feeling that I am falling apart. You know, when your being feels disconnected and blinded, unable to make sense of the world around you and thus impairing your choices, your words, your thoughts. Unfortunately, this is a feeling I am experiencing a lot here. For example, with the Spanish language; at times, it all flows together and I feel able to use it to communicate. But a majority of the time it’s as if the words fall apart in my mouth or dissolve on their way to my ears. Other times it’s the choices I make that look nothing like what I would do in the States. And without explanation. It’s a terrifying sensation to feel strange to oneself, as if you were foreign and unknown within. I don’t really know how to come to terms with it or even what it all means. The only thing I am clinging to is that it will eventually come together, and in the meantime, He is really good at leading the blind. I’m learning to trust Him.
HOME TO ME
I found a slice of comfort: this adorable coffee shop in the nearby large city. Teeny tiny but has nice tables to sit at and a real espresso machine. If I close my eyes, I can picture the Roasterie, with its swanky dark-stained tables and hissing clover machine in the background, sufjan floating through the notes of coffee. As I sipped my Styrofoam cup of cinnamon latte [which I will NOT throw on the ground] and walked towards my bus stop, I took joy that even when so much feels foreign, I can find pockets of familiarity.
TRANSITIONING
The clouds drift lazily across the rolling green carpet surrounding my new home. El Crucero, at 945 km above sea level, mimics a cloud forest, bringing a strong chill to the air and making the coffee crop rather successful. I will be living with a family here for 6 weeks starting July 26th, and then after that, who knows. I will work with two small urban schools, one of which is inviting me to work with the elementary school teacher! There is also an orphanage that would like English classes. It feels refreshing to know that my real work here will begin soon. Right now my life feels slightly false, as I am involved in projects that are meant to train and thus require an abrupt end. So these youth that I am getting to know and just beginning to see their hearts will no longer be a part of my daily life. Part of me aches for them, as this has occurred many times before and will continue for many more as Santa Teresa remains a training town. My hope is that these young women will resist the downward pull of the youth culture here and become leaders for the next set of youth. I still hope to return at least once a month to maintain contact with my Institute here, as they are so eager to work with Cuerpo de Paz. It’s not much, but I look forward to continuing some of the things I’ve started here. Sustainable development is much more complex when it involves honey-colored eyes, weathered hands and dusty feet. All the textbook definitions and programmatic approaches don’t directly connect to the actual people receiving/participating in the development. Herein lays my role – to translate between the two and walk this out with my neighbors.
MI SOL 30 de Junio
Eres el regalo que nunca pedi
La porcion de cielo que no mereci
Todos mis senelos sean cumplido en ti
Y no quiero perderte, no lo quiero asi
Te deje tan solo que me senti, sin ti
Y no quiero de nuevo estar asi, asi
Tomame en tus brazos soy parte te di
Soy parte de ti
CORO
Eres mi sol, luz color y vida para mi
Eres tu mi sol, estrella que a mi vida sustento
Eres tu mi sol
Lo que quiero ahora es perderme en ti
Y ser envuelta en todo lo que eres tu
Y ser envuelta en todo lo que eres tu
Te deje tan solo que me senti sin ti
Y no quiero de nuevo estar asi asi
Tomame en tus brazos soy parte de ti,
Soy parte de ti
CORO (2x)
Eres el regalo que nunca pedi
La porcion de cielo que no mereci
This is a beautiful song by two sisters from Mexico, Jessy y Joy. It has uplifted me a lot lately, though a love song to a man, it reminds me of the Great Lover. I’ll try to translate it below, but it really is most captivating in Spanish. Search it on youtube.
You are the gift I didn’t ask for
The part of heaven I didn’t deserve
All of my dreams are complete in you
And I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want it like that
I left you so alone, the way I felt without you
And I don’t want to be that way again
Take me in your arms, I am part of you
I am part of you
You are my sun, light, color and life for me
You are my sun, the star that sustains my life
You are my sun
What I want right now is to lose myself in you
And be surrounded by all that is you
And be surrounded by all that is you
I left you so alone, the way I felt without you
And I don’t want to be that way again
Take me in your arms, I am part of you
I am part of you
You are my sun, light, color and life for me
You are my sun, the star that sustains my life
You are my sun
You are the gift I didn’t ask for
The portion of heaven I didn’t deserve.
3 de Julio FLOHA PART TWO
Fog is going to be my daily companion until November or December. You wake up to his clammy fingers reaching through the windows, nipping your shoulders while you hurriedly shower and kissing your face as you wait for the mototaxi. He finally gives it a rest around midmorning but is wide awake around 5 o clock, promising to obscure your view of the lush landscape until tomorrow. I was not happy about his presence when I arrived last night to El Crucero, nor did I appreciate his clinginess as I went about my day, chilling my fingers and bared toes [because silly me, I didn’t bring clothing for wet 60 degree temperatures]. However, as we were riding back through the valley with the Ministry of Health driver, I started thinking back on the post I made a few days ago, the uncomfortability and scariness of feeling unknown to oneself. The sensation that hits me so often is one of fogginess and I’ve begun resenting it, even more so now that it is manifested in my physical surroundings. Yet as I was thinking about all this, I was admiring the gorgeous landscape I get to inhabit for two years. The calm air and freshness of it all, and how, come summertime, this will be the place to be, when the fog leaves and allows the land to present herself. In the same way, I feel like this is what is happening to me. It’s not that I’m losing myself, but rather finding this part of myself that lay dormant in my American culture. There was always this haunting feeling when I worked with Hispanic people or spoke in Spanish and then returned to middle-class white America, as if I was taking this fresh green sprout in my soul and closing if off in a musty closet [not that middle-class white America is musty...]. My most beautiful dream – was in Spanish. SO here I am, living amongst the petals of this language and realizing that this foreignness is not a loss but rather a gain. It’s rather odd to be aware of this kind of transformation, kind of like essence growing pains. But I’m learning to enjoy it, and am excited to see what this fuller version of myself looks like in the end.
