and big pumpkin-shooter (oh yes, you read right),
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Pumpkins and plethoras
and big pumpkin-shooter (oh yes, you read right),
Saturday, October 22, 2011
In defense of playgrounds
However, I ended up studying the people about as much as my notes. As parks will do, this particular picnic table was positioned next to a playground. Now I have many a fond memory of playgrounds, be it at Pierce Street Elementary School, Ballard Park, Joyner School, or down the street from my grandparents' house in Vicksburg. But now, regrettably being several years past prime playground age (and size - have you tried the monkeybars recently?!), I looked at this phenomenon with new eyes and a new appreciation.
In the space of about two hours that Sunday, I saw several families come and go. I saw four ethnicities and heard three languages. Each family had a different family structure. I wondered at their stories. Granted, this playground was uniquely placed near several neighborhoods that allow for this kind of diversity and variety of clientele. I know not every playground has such a priveleged opportunity.
What what a cool one it is. Think about it. A playground. A simple, natural place for kids to do all sorts of things that are important. Play. Be active. Run around. Be creative. Encounter other kids in their area. Perhaps kids who are quite different from them. And what if... they start playing together? What if the playground becomes more important than the differences? And they learn this without thinking from an early age? What if they have a safe, pretty, encouraging place to get outside, be active, and have this encounter? Not to mention the effects on the parents and caretakers that bring them...
So I have decided - perhaps again - that I am a proponent of playgrounds. Be on the lookout for a more timely next post on the defense of pumpkins. Because, especially as I missed October last year, I am remembering that fall is AWESOME.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Little things
Ergo, finding fun things as the (prudent) opportunities arise. :)
As I continue to get accustomed to this new place, a new role, and these new people here, familiar faces and comforts have been a pleasure. I've had the chance - and will soon be able - to see some people I love, as they've come through on their way here or there. One of the perks of being a little closer than Peru, I guess! Maybe not for too long, but it's a blessing to share some time with them. Like a cool spray of water on a hot day, or the joy that is an ice cream cone, they leave my heart with a smile, refreshed to jump back into the task of living and investing in this present.
So here's to good friends, family, fall on its way, and falling asleep to thunderstorms.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The next step
Wow, sorry I’ve taken this long to write again. It’s been a crazy month between enjoying friends and family in
So, borrowing from my dear friend Devon Emig (although she did this before she actually ended her year in
- The people
-The fruit (especially mangos, avocados, and juice)
-Menús (fixed price, 2 course lunches for 4 soles/$1.50)
-Bodegas (neighborhood everything-stores) and panaderías (bakeries)
-Colectivos, combis, micros (the exciting and crowed public transportation)
-Walking everywhere
-Being with people who are different from me in many ways every day, having relationships with them, and that being normal
-Fresh foods and cheap produce
-Speaking Spanish
-Salsa and cumbia music
-A lack of obsession with time, phones, and work
-People’s generosity, accessibility, and availability
THINGS THAT ARE NICE ABOUT THE U.S:
-Friends and family (of course)
-Toilet paper in public restrooms
-Water fountains and tap water
-It being normal to be an active, athletic girl
-Salads at meals
-Seasons
-Green (
-Driving (even though I didn’t really miss it)
-Telephone calls
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Impact
Wow, I don’t really know where to start. The Starbucks playing music in English in the
Sometimes I wonder how much short-term trips actually impact a community. Of course, they are much more effective when a long-term option providing follow-up care is available, and maybe a lot of the relief is only temporary for many of the patients. Yet, honestly, it’s at least some relief, and it’s more than many of the patients who travel a few hours from remote towns would be able to access otherwise. Maybe it’s enough to give them a little more strength, a little more hope. And maybe it just helps to have a professional actually listen, care, pray, and try his or her best to help.
The clinic’s despedida (goodbye party) was so much fun and, although hard to say goodbye, it made me appreciate again what a unique feel of family the group has. It’s difficult, sad, and definitely surreal saying goodbye, and I’m sure it won’t really hit until I’m back… and even then, little by little. (Be prepared for periodic reflections and realizations.) However, I don’t feel like I’ll never see these people again. They’re a part of me, and God has taught me so much through them. And, Lord-willing, I’ll get to see them again. As my mom wrote me before I came to
Check – more than I could have hoped. Praise the Lord.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Hospitals
It’s funny… I kind of expected that, after going to Cajamarca a few weeks ago, I’d have a pretty normal life here in Trujillo for a month, return to Cajamarca for the medical campaign the week of July 4th, and then finish out my time in Trujillo. Funny how things change.
The last few weeks have certainly not been calm, and I’m thankful to have a chance now to just sit still in the apartment (actually, it’s not even my apartment – staying with another nurse from the mission since the other interns left). But I’ve spent the better part of the past three weeks with one of our patients in and out of the hospital. He’s an 82-year-old man named don José, and we’ve been trying to get him an endoscopic surgery to remove nasal and sinus polyps since December. So, after lots of appointments, delays, and endless lines and paperwork relating to his government insurance (which, in spite of everything, thankfully covers just about everything), he finally had that surgery about two weeks ago. After a night in the hospital, he went home…which is actually a room in the church, since he has extremely limited resources, no family, and a few months ago could no longer live with the family he’d been with.
Pretty crazy there for awhile. But I learned a lot, saw a lot, thought a lot, and got to know (at least by recognition) several people who worked there. Of course there are all types, but the majority – at least on his floor – were very good to us. And when he began to recover appetite and strength enough to be more talkative, it was really cool to get to know don José better. This little man – who was born in Cajamarca, only went to school through 3rd grade, has educated himself through enviable curiosity and reading, lived in Lima during his young adult years, was in the army for two years, ran the 100 and 400 m, likes soccer and basketball, was in love once better never got married, had everything stolen from him 40 years ago, moved to Trujillo, grew old without family, sells candies in the big Hermalinda market, and became a member of the Wichanzao church a month ago – has been through a lot. And, despite the nature of the circumstances, it was cool to get to hear some of it.
Don Jose in his hospital room.
Thankfully, don José went home Thursday. He seems so much better, and we’re praying that he keeps recovering his strength and can return to the rhythm he had before. But even so, the truth is that he’s getting older and living alone in the church probably isn’t a viable long-term solution. I was thankful to get to care for him over the last few weeks, but there’s always a little doubt of “How much is okay?” Because the truth is, I’m leaving in a month, and the economic and family situations of many of the church members don’t give them much leeway to dedicate the care he needs. But, I also think that I/we haven’t done more for him than we would for an elderly family member, and I don’t think he should be denied the same attention just for being poor and without a family. But the next decision will be how to best care for him in the future. I probably won’t be part of that decision, but I’m praying for wisdom for those that are and that God will open up the right options.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Paces and Peace
But, despite missing the companionship of my compatriots, I’m looking forward now to the different pace of this last phase of my time in
this past year has meant, how it has impacted them, the struggles, joys and lessons they have experienced, how God has worked in their lives. In a way, I went through part of that process with my friends – at least in a supportive, observant way. But I know my turn’s coming soon and, although I definitely don’t want to get ahead of myself, I think their goodbye process started my reflection wheels turning. Which, considering that I get to spread that process over the next couple of months, is a good thing, I think.
But I was pretty worn out by the time they all left, so I was thankful for another change of pace: I spent last week in the mountain city of Cajamarca, helping a couple there with some ideas for conversational English classes they’re starting at the church. I hope some of my presence was helpful, but I also just appreciated the chance to learn from their relaxed way of doing life and to enjoy being out of the city-pace of
Whether it’s guiding a horse in a circle for four hours making a brick mixture, selling vegetables and fresh cheese in the market, or working in the clinic in Wichanzao, I guess we all have our own pace. Maybe God gives part of it to us, depending on our personality. Maybe sometimes it changes, depending on our circumstances. Maybe we should always be aware of it, running hard enough to make the most of every opportunity but slowing down enough to relish relationships, take in the scenery, and take care of ourselves. I’m pretty sure I’ll be trying to find that balance my whole life. But I’m thankful for the chance to try, and for people who inspire me to run hard and those that show me how to slow down. I think God gives us peace somewhere in the middle, when we run for Him but aren’t striving to be enough on our own…when we’re close to the pace He’s made us for.