Sometimes A Light Suprises

Sometimes A Light Surprises

It is an amazing thing to feel love. From your friends, from your family, or from a person who you knew one week out of your entire life. It keeps me in awe to think of the effect it can have on someone. How through love, a year or two, or three, or twenty, can pass and a person can so vividly remember you, and pray for you...

I am learning alot here in Ecuador. Alot about Latin culture; what it would mean to spend my life working in a school or a poor community here; what it feels to be in a different culture, with even less people who can understand you (emotionally and lingually) *i am not sure if "lingually" is actually a word*. I am learning about the kind of person I want to be and the kind of person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I am learning about perseverence, and suffering, and meeting people who resemble the kind of life I have always pictured for myself....

I have been trying to write this blog for the past four days and I just never had time to complete my thought. I was going to go into about how much I have been learning about grace, and how the truth of the gospel applies to our life. But instead, tonight I have a story.

I left yesterday afternoon on a bus to Milagro. A town about an hour or so from Guayaquil. When I arrived I met some very nice Ecuadorians at the church where I was going to give two english classes at. My roomate back in L.A. has an older brother named Carlos, and that is who's class I came to teach. They were night classes; one at 6 the last at 9:15. There was a man in the 9:15 class named Rudolph. One of the most genuinly sweet old men I have ever met. I found out later that night that he is a very talented teacher and works with 6-8 years-olds. He is around 65 years old, and lives completely alone. He has children and an ex-wife but none of them come around. They have become enslaved into a world of drugs, amongst other things. Rudolph has been a christian for about 5 years and wants to become a missionary. That is whwy he is trying to learn english now. That is not the story I wanted to tell though. Last night I spent the night at a girl named Sarita's house. She is ecuadorian and works at the church. She has 11 brothers and sisters, and lives with her nephew and sister-in-law as well. She has two brothers living in New York. Her family lives in the house of their in-laws, and her brothers send money every month to make sure the family can buy food, and have electricty and water. It was about 11:00pm when we arrived to her house, and I was exhausted. On top of that, I could only communicate in spanish. I met the family, and as any good gringa would do, I agreed to sit with them all and watch one of their favorite Novelas on the television. The story line was similar to that of any novela (two girls with too much make up and in very short skirts fighting, crying, embracing half dressed latino men, while someone is dieing in the hospital; and the best-friend and/or mother is trying to steal the money and/or boyfriend/husband/lover...). After this I went up onto the roof with Sarita (we were trailed by her 5 year-old nephew Michael (Mee-ky-el). He kept asking me about going into this dark cement house-looking thing and would not leave the issue alone...so I began to explain how there are many animals inside (listing all the animals that i knew in Spanish) and how they are very large and have huge teeth; and that they like to eat people who want to go look at them; I went on and told him that they are only there at night and that is why he has probably never seen them before, but I know they are there and I dont want to go, but i told him he could go if he wanted....He quickly told me that he no longer wanted to go. He soon got over his fear as he announced his true identity as being "hombre araNja" or in english, "spiderman". Then he went on to explain to me how rabbits like to eat carrots, and I told him I liked to eat carrots as well. He agreed with me on this point and also added that he enjoyed eating rabbit very much as well. I then revealed to him that my true identity was Mujer araNja (spiderwoman), and that i was hungry and needed to find a rabbit to eat. He laughed and told me that there are no rabbits right now. Our conversation quickly ended when I said that if I couldnt find a rabbit soon I may have to eat him...(He just laughed and dramatically left the roof, making sure I knew he was leaving...I think secretly he was waiting for me to beckon for him to come back. But I was pretty sure his Aunt was tired of my half hour conversation with this 5 year-old in my broken spanish.) Sarita and I ended up talking for a few more hours about our lives, and families, and desires for the future. It eventually become to cold to stand and we retreated to the soft beds under the mosquito nets. I had never slept under a mosquito net before; it had a rather odd smell and I kept imaginging that it had been sprayed down with DDT that when I would wake up in the morning I might not be able to see anymore. Other than that, it was rather romantic...the DDT and all.

This morning I took a freezing cold shower, ate some baked Platain (or Maduro Asado) con queso and learned a complicated, but beautiful, Spanish worship song. Sarita and I walked through town to the church, and Carlos and I then took off to buy some medicine for Hermana Veronica. This is where the story begins.

We approached a very rural part of down (meaning the roads are not really paved, there is trash and overgrown plants everywhere, barefoot kids and scraggegly dogs running around as well) and I see a very old woman bent over and focused on the broken hinge of her gate. She introduces herself as Veronica and welcomes us into her house. A week or so ago as she was hanging her laundry out to dry, she took a step, and an old nail went straight through her foot. Carlos and I picked up some Tetanis Medicine and he handed me the syringe asking if I had ever given a shot before. I laughed and then realized he was really asking me to give Veronica a Tetanis shot for her injury. We quickly tracked down a neighbor who commonly gives people injections and she took care of it for us. Veronica had been getting some fevers and has not been feeling well so when Carlos called she asked for some medicine. I walked into her home and took a seat in one of the well used chairs. Everyone's furniture, and kitchenware (in the poorer parts) looks as either it has been used very heavily for the past 30 years, or are from the 1940s. I looked up and noticed the collapsing ceiling. I tried to take in the site. The sheets divinding the room into two seperate parts; the little wash basin; small stove; the two pots hanging on the wall; three plantain bananas and an avacado in the food basket. There was a small table with three chairs that looked to be the refuge for a very small, obviously excessivly abused little dog. I watch Hermana Veronica with her old skirt and buttoned up blouse; her cheap sandals that were too big for her feet; and the torn peice of cloth that she had wrapped around her nail-peirced wound to stop the bleeding. We sat and talked for the next few hours. Carlos told me that through the last rainy season Hermana Veronica's roof was really falling apart and he found out that she (probably in her late 60s or older) would somehow climb onto the top of her roof and try to patch up the leaky spots with scraps of metal. Once the people from their church knew they quickly came and tried to repair it for her. I listened for the next few hours about this women's life. About her two youngest daughter who are very sick from their Diabetes; about her youngest son who is addicted to sniffing glue. She wept as she spoke of her last encounter with Daniel; how she pleaded with him to turn to Christ. That he can quit what he is doing and salvage the little life he has left. That God can help his addiction and satisfy the longing that he has been seeking to fill; that he can heal those things he has been running from. She told us about how skinny he was when she saw him, and how she fears he will die soon. She continued to weep more (only this time they were tears of deep gratitude) as she talked of her oldest son who had served in the Ecuadorian army. He had jumped from a plane and his parachute failed. He was paralyzed from the neck down and was in a coma. In between her tears and gasps to thank God, she explained how she showed up to the hospital everyday for three years to pray for her son and massage his arms and legs, praying that God would heal him. He lives in Guayaquil now, and cannot work very much, but can walk. She answered questions Carlos asked her, revealing that there is often no food to eat, and no money to turn on the lights. This woman began to teach me about the faithfulness and mercy of God. About how he blesses us, and loves us. I had wished so desperatly that I knew the most beautiful song and that I could sing it in the most beautiful voice for her. And I decided my resolution to learn Spanish and learn to play the guitar well is something I am going to accomplish before I come back to Ecuador. I thought about how if I was Hermana Veronica's neighbor I would come over every morning and play her a song...and remind her to smile.

It took me about 30 minutes to get her small little dog to trust me. He slowly inched out from under the table, across the room to my chair. He literally stopped every 2 inches and would cowar, waiting to see if I would hit him. I thought of the fact that there are so many people in this state. I thought of the woman who worked with Mother Teresa as a Sister of Charity and sat with a terrified little boy who could not speak nor hardly breath regularly. He sat shaking on a small, flat, make-shift hospital bed. Shocked by death and the war in front of him, the sister slowly began to touch his hand, and then stroke his head, and then his chest, and his arms. You can see the transformation of this small terrified boy. And he looks up at this woman and realizes that she was not there to hurt him.....That is what I want to spend my life doing. Finding those people who are terrified, cowering underneath the table, and be able to live with them and show them that I am not there to hurt them, but to love them...and then give them a hug and sing them a beautiful song, and pray for them, and cook for them, and teach them to dance, and play a hand-clapping game...or the phrase "I am happy" in english. Carlos and I prayed for Hermana Veronica and then we went to leave. She told me that when I come back to Ecuador that I must come to her house and share a meal with her. She made Carlos promise that he would give her my phone number and she told me hers very quickly, with such trust that I could memorize it and and call her soon. I repeated the numbers out loud and really did try to remember them. But I will remember her, and por fe, I will come and share a meal with her. I would also like to bring her some real shoes, but they would probably just be in her way. As we walked down the street away from Veronica, and mi perrito, Carlos told me that Veronice is in his sunday school class, and is one of his best students.

I tried sugar cane for the first time today, and I was able to see mis abuelitos in the old folks home. I hope I will be able to leave all the people I have met here something to remember me by. I actually do not care if they remember me, I just want to leave them something that will remind them to smile, and remind them that we have so much to trust in and smile about.

I return to the U.S. in three weeks.

I have decided that I am going to either major, or minor in spanish, that baked plantains are one of my favorite foods, and that I am sure there is no way I will be able to take my heart away from Ecuador.

the end

Negro representa pecado

Today we are going to talk about the color black. Black represents sin. Who has heard of the word sin before? Sin is that things that seperates us from God. God is our father, who created us. A very long time ago, God created the entire world. Genesis tells us about how God created the earth, and the ocean, and the skyw, and he created day and night, and plants. God created all these things and saw that they were good. And then God created man. He blessed man and gave him power over all the plants and animals on the earth. And every day God and man walked together in peace. Soon God saw that it was not good for man to be alone, so he created a mutual helper; a woman. God put man and woman in a beautiful garden, where they could walk and work and eat from all the plants. They had everything they needed, and were at peace with God. God gave man and woman freedom to eat from any tree in the garden; all but one. He told then to not eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. If they did eat of it, it would bring about death. The tempter came and questioned Gods words. Then the woman and the man agreed with the tempter, that they to could, and should have this knowledge over their lives. They disobeyed and ate the fruit. Because they disobeyed God, they were cast out of the garden and out of his presence. This was the begining of sin for mankind, man and womans desire to take God's place. As a result of sin, much pain entered into the world. People lie, cheat, and steal. People hurt eachother, some people kill. Friends lie to eachother, boyfriends and girlfriends; husbands and wives are unfaithful. They lose their trust. People rebel against their parents and their teachers. We hurt and cry, and finally, people die. Sin has caused all kinds of pain in our lives and has seperated us from God. Sin is living in darkness, far from God. That is why we use the color black to represent the darkness. All people live in a state of sin, in a world of darkness. All people live in a state of sin, in a world of darkness and pain; away from God's love and peace. God created us, and wants us to be with him. We removed ourselves from paradise, and put ourselves far from God. But he has created new paradise for us, and a way to get there. A way to be close again, a place of joy and peace with him. Their is an answer God has for us. And we are going to talk about that next week.

This is the first message I have ever taught in Spanish. I am so thankful that 30 minutes before I left to teach chapel at my school in Pascuales, a translator fell into my lap.

The children watched me with a strange curiosity as I spoke. Maybe it was my white skin, or my blue eyes...or how quickly and intensly I spoke at them in english. But they ran up to me afterwards, and climbed on me and played with me, and looked into my soul begging for love.

There are two boys that have captured my heart here in Ecuador. They are brothers and I have never seen their parents. Jose is 11 and Francisco is 5. They are in different classes, but by far are the most disobedient, the kids who are rude and talk out of turn and always are making trouble. Francisco is sick alot, and Jose does not want me to know that he wants me to hug him or be kind to him. But I know he does. I love these two boys. Who are so apparently hurt by life. They carry this sense of distrust and rebellion, but at the same time such a vulnerablity to someone who might genuinly care for them. Francisco is not old enough to not trust me...Jose seems to have learned quickly the way people are. I am sure he has seen and felt sin in his life. That is why I think hew is so interested in an answer to it. There is something more for him, there is joy and healing....there is an answer, and there is love. Unconditional, completly radical and overwhelming love. for him, for Francisco, for me.

If you can, pray for these boys. Next Friday I will be telling them about who Jesus is, and what it means that he died. Rojo representa la santidad de Cristo...y esparanza y paz, y eternidad

Crazy Days

Where to start.....

Friday after class I was invited to have lunch at one of my students homes. Her name is Jayz, she is six years-old, and her dad just left there family last week. She tells me I am her sister, and her mom told me she wakes up in the middle of the night looking for me.



Honestly, that scares me. I am afraid of hurting her; that I will damage her by loving her and then leaving.



After class we went and i met all the cousins, the brothers and sisters, the abuelita, and the stray pets. I was offered alot of food, peach juice, and all of Jayz possessions (ranging from hairpins to a cheap Disney princess movie). We talked and ate, and smiled alot. Before I left they presented me with a gift. Some hand lotion, and the only picture of Jayz that the mom had. She wrote on the back (literally translated) "to the soul-friend of my heart, so you remember to return quickly katherine". Her mom asked me to take a picture of the picture she gave me so that she might be able to have another copy.



Friday afternoon to Sunday afternoon I camped out on la isla Santay. I shared my testimony with people from the community on Friday night, and then Saturday and Sunday Myself, and a friend ran all the games for the children. This weekend God used to grow so many relationships between the kids and me. Sunday I was able to talk about prayer and Jesus with a girl named Paulina, and we got to sit and tell stories about David and Goliath, and about the miracles of Jesus. I left the island on Sunday with about 200 bug bites covering my arms and legs, a bunch of braids in my hair (compliments of about 5 rough little island girls) and a few less bracelets on my wrists (from giving them away).



I have about four weeks left here in Ecuador. Now, my big frustration has been that I want to be bale to teach the kids in my classes in Pascuales more than just phrases like "my name is..." and "these are grapes". I want to teach them about eternal things, and about God. I had no idea how I was going to do that. Yesterday, the Lord answered my prayers in a beautiful way. Just as I wrote about in one of my first blogs, God is able to do far more than all that we can think or ask. Bartola (the school director) asked if I would be able to teach the chapel messages every Friday while I am still here. So I said yes and decided that we are going to talk about the gospel through colors (Black=sin, Red=blood....etc.) then the last week each kid will get a bracelet with all the colors we have talked about each week. I bought the beads last night after searching all day for them, and will be making them all for each student before I leave. I do not know very much Spanish, but with the Lords help and alot of practice I will be able to share for the next four Fridays with these kids I have been working with for the past month. But I will get to teach them about sin, about Jesus, about prayer, about our hope...and what lies ahead for those who seek to follow God with their lives; La esperanza de la eternidad. Pray for me, I need it. I am also supposed to teach them some worship songs...I have two days to learn. =)



It is all so good and challenging, but God is teaching me and showing me so much. The pain in leaving is so worth it in being here and being able to learn from these people and the amazing kids here; in Santay, in Pascuales, on the street.



Thursday A few friends and I are starting a basketball ministry with kids who hang around on the street during the day time. Some cell cheap gum and candy, others take tips to watch cars. We want to play once a week and try and develop relationships with them; be able to be a safe place for them, friends that they can talk with and trust; have a time when they can just be kids. Por fe.

My Class

I only went to teach at Pascuales one day last week. I had originally planned to go to a town called Milagro, an hour away from Guayaquil, to help a friend teach an English class at his church on Tuesday and Wednesday. But Tuesday morning I woke up feeling pretty terrible, and it just got worse as the hours and days passed. I had a high fever and bad chest cold, and my body and stomach just ached. I do not really know what was wrong, but by Saturday I was feeling much better...well, I was at least tired enough of laying around that I got up and went to a place called La Isla Del Valle with a friend. It is a community like Pascuales, only with way more people and with less money. My friend and I led worship for each class of some of the most beautiful children I have ever seen. Dark, dark skin with huge, dark almond-shaped eyes....they were gorgeous. I would have photos, but I was told it was to dangerous to bring my camera. There is a small group of amazing people who come to this community every Saturday, teach kids who want to come about the bible, feed them, sing with them, and play with them. I was shocked when I came with my friend to find such a random group of people working there; A 40-something year old man, who is the pastor, a couple women well into their 60s, a 19 year-old college student, and a mother of 3 who is probably around 35. It was beautiful. We loved, we prayed, then we took the 45 minute bus ride back home. Back to my topic that I originally began with; today was my first day back in Pascuales. I am still struggling a lot with feeling that I am not doing any good for anyone there. It is a battle every morning, until I walk through the door and am greeted by the youngest class (with whom I spend the most time with) as they shout "Ñaña!" (ñaña is a more loving term used in Ecuador to mean sister...it is based off of one of the original Indian dialects) and I find myself trapped in the center of a cluster of small little Ecuadorian children that do not reach above my waist. After our first lesson I again am reminded of why I come here; As I sit around the kids eating their snack, and as I sit and eat whatever Bartola puts in front of me, one by one the kids break off pieces of their crackers or maybe a piece of a boiled egg. Whatever they have, they share with me. Jayz (pronounced, Ya-eice) is one of the kids that obviously loves me the most. (I think I can say that without sounding completely self-absorbed). I think she feels close to me because one, she really wants love and I really love her, and two we are the only ones in the school with light skin and light hair (she is constantly playing with mine and trying to put her hair pins in it). She had a little piece of meat for her lunch along with her cracker. After a small nibble she hung the piece in front of my face as to offer it to me. I smiled and told her that I thought she should eat it, and as soon as the rest of the kids around heard I did not want it, 8 hands shot out straight under the meat. Well at that point Jayz turned away and enjoyed it herself.

I love my class. Even if they cannot sit still for more that 5 minutes, and every time I am left alone with them they go CRAZY and run around, jumping on the desks, drawing on the walls, and tables and literally destroying everything they can get theirs hands on...but we have an understanding, and I think we love each other, alot. I am still in Ecuador, but I miss them already.

And The Light Shines in the Darkness

Christ was in the beginning with God, and "All things were made through him, and to him, and without him was not anything made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it...He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him [and who still do receive him] and who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born not of blood nor of the will of man, but of God." John 1:2-5, 11-13

I was able to spend last Thursday in Quito. The most memorable, thought-provoking part of my trip was the 9 1/2 hour journey back to Guayaquil on a TransEcuador bus. As we drove past miles and miles of forest, banana trees, and other exotic plants, we passed by the villages were they strip off the outer shells of rice. As we came to these villages the scenery changed to a short stretch of bleak dingy bamboo houses. They were all up on 6 or 7 foot high stilts to prevent flooding in the rainy times, and because of the rice feilds. The colorful arrangement of clothing, from skirts, to little kids underwear was the only object shining forth any kind of life in contrast to the dark browns and trash thrown everywhere. My heart hurt as I thought about the people who lived in these houses, who walked across the weak hand-made bridges that were supported by 6 feet of thin bamboo strips tied together. I watched little kids playing barefoot in the mud, kicking around an empty soda bottle while the stray dogs ran around on the porches, and the women hung more clothing out to dry. I cannot help but think that the people who live here understand so much more about life than I do; that they are somehow closer to the truths of God by simply living than I am by reading them.

In Romans 10, Paul says that whoever confesses with his mouth and believes in his heart that Jesus was raised from the dead, than they will be saved. "For everyone who calls on the name of the lord will be saved." But then he goes on further, "But how are they to call on him whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent?...So faith comes through hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ." Romans 10:13-15,17

As I thought through my experiences so far on this trip, I thought, who would WANT to live in one of those villages? Who would want to live in a place like Pascuales, where the school I work is located? It seems so difficult to live in a place like that. No bathrooms, no heat, no refrigerator, no nada. As I sat down to eat lunch with Bartola and Sarita in their house today after class, my heart became even more awed at the strength and faith of this woman; who lives here so she can run and teach theis school, as well as help pastor the church for this community. Today little Sarita brought out the photo album, which was filled with old photos that had been glued onto pieces of paper in a notebook. I was privileged to see the life of this woman. From her children as small babies, to the swimming competitions of her two disabled sons. Her faith, her love...so much more, so much closer than I can even imagine. With my broken Spanish I apologized to her for not being able to help much, assuring her I want to and promising that when I come back I will bring back more Spanish, and better curriculum to teach the kids. She just smiles and assures me that just being here is bigger than I know. "because," she says (in Spanish, of course) "you are here to serve God, and that is love, and that is the greatest thing you could bring here to us."

Today I was able to play some games with my kids. In the small space out in front of the school room we ran around, jumped and danced (seeing as how my limited Spanish allows me only certain commands such as "corremos", "salta", and "bailamos". It is such a blessing to be here, and know these people, and these families. As little Rael reached into his dirty apron pocket and pulled out an old cracker that had made its home next to a chewed-up pencil and other living grime, he handed it to me and lit up with such joy when I thanked him and ate it. The so-called "sacrifice," sickness, heart-ache, it is all worth it.

"If you have a father, or if you havn't one..."

Today I met Alma, a street woman. And we prayed for her son

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they shall be satisfied"
and blessed are those who do not have enough money to buy vegetables to eat
blessed are those who are sexually abused by their doctors because they cannot afford a real one
and blessed are those children who do not realize the place they are in, and can still run and play with such joy
blessed are those who do not know how they are going to make the next payment because there is just not enough money
and blessed are those who pray, who pray and have faith to move mountains
blessed are those who have given their lives for others
blessed are those who are beaten and spit on by the system, by Christians, by businessmen, by the merciless ones who see nothing more than a person who needs to get a job.
blessed, blessed, blessed, are those who, through this mess of life cling to the hope that is in our father. Our hope of redeeming grace, our hope to rise to a better life.