Girls Go To College

But actually, Mom and I went to Madre del Buen Consejo- the co-ed Catholic school.

This photo was taken off the Santisimo Sacramento website

Mom and I went to MBC for the morning and went to 3 English classes. The first was for 5 year olds, the second was for 3 year olds, and the third was a 5th grade class. If you knew us back when we went to Ireland in 2001, I'm sure we have told you about the time we went to a Catholic school there and how cute the little kids were in their uniforms. The students here were, naturally, adorable, but boy, were they also smart! They were learning English from a teacher who would only speak English to them. It was weird being on this side of the language barrier for the first time this trip! Mom's teaching skills came in handy and I was trying my best, too. 

The fifth graders were learning what the teacher called "present progressing"- I am running, she is playing, etc. We were asked to write examples on the board for the students to change and, having been beaten over the head with gender stereotypes when teaching family members, I couldn't help myself when I had a little girl come up to the board and write "THE GIRLS ARE GOING TO COLLEGE." I had had an hour of teaching 3 and 5 year olds that "mommies clean, daddies work, boys play with soccer balls, and girls play with Barbies." 

We also helped a student with her pronunciation when singing "God Bless America" and "You Raise Me Up," which she will be performing for their Fourth of July celebration. I'd go into more details, but Mom actually taped her on her phone because she was so moved.

While we were at the school, the reality of the living conditions that most families in the area live in came back to Kathleen full force when she was out delivering food . We are off to see our "family" that we adopted in 5 minutes so I will have more of an idea of what that was like in a little while. Then it was back to Santisimo Sacramento for lunch and siesta.

In the afternoon, I was asked by a couple from Oklahoma to stay back and translate for them. They had "adopted" a girl from Madre del Redentor about 9 years ago and lost contact with her about 2-3 years ago. They reconnected via Facebook, saw that she has a 2 year old daughter, and, naturally, wanted to catch up. Her story is heart-wrenching and I'm still processing it myself so I'm going to beg off sharing it here. Maybe in time.

Mass and dinner were wonderful, per usual and it has been great getting to know the other groups here. Later that night, after going through 2 large suitcases sorting things for our "family," I was able to talk to Sr. Betty from Ursuline Academy in Delaware for a little bit outside. It was one of those hazy overcasts nights that look like it should be a painting. Sr. Betty and Amanda, another chaperone, brought 9 high school girls to Piura as part of an immersion program. Both Sr. Betty and Mom agree that these types of service trips are so important for us- us meaning those privileged enough to go to a private, Catholic high school and grow up without want. 

(Four hours, 3 trips in the back of a truck, 2 sunburned Irish girls, and 1 German-Dutch woman who tans later)

We just got back from visiting our family! This is Tuesday now, by the way. Our family lives way outside Piura and today we went to meet them and bring them their food. We also went to see what they needed for their home. Honestly, we could have bought them anything. You know those heart wrenching commercials you see on TV of people living in 3rd world countries in bamboo huts with dirt floors? That is roughly where our family lives. I am purposely calling them "our family" not only because we adopted them through SS but also because we were reminded last night during Padre's homily. What is your identity? What does it mean to lose your identity? Are we all not children of God? Are we all not brothers and sisters with Jesus Christ? Everyone is our family. Since we were young, one of the (many) messages hammered into us was the importance of family. How, then, can we not help each other with the most basic of needs? As it turns out, this includes bunk beds for our family in Peru.

Our family consists of 2 parents and 5 children. Their home has straw walls, dirt floors, no bathroom, and a hole in the floor for cooking over a fire. Unfortuntely, because of lack of access to gas, we can't buy them a stove; however, we did buy them 2 sets of bunk beds and 1 double bed for the parents. After a very entertaining and hot trip to the open market back in Piura, we found out that no, you can't actually get 6 fully grown adults, 2 sets of bunk bed frames 1 double frame, 5 mattresses, 5 mosquito nets, 5 sheet sets, and 5 blankets in a single pick-up truck, no matter how tightly you tie 4 of the mattresses onto the top of the truck. Needless to say, riding in the back of that truck back to the parish was the most fun I've had since I've been here. Coincidentally, it is also probably the dumbest and most unsafe thing I've done in years. We're going back to the house at 3 to assemble the beds. Patience is not extactly my strong suit when doing really anything in English. Pray for me as I try to do this in another language. 

It is currently 1:48, 84 degrees, and I'm signing off to go take a much needed siesta. Nos vemos!

-Erin-

No Pare!

Sunday

June 19, 2016

I added this photo to the blog
without Erin's permission.  It
was taken in Piura, Peru.

Let me preface this post with a disclaimer that the title is from "In the Heights," a musical that has been stuck in my head this entire trip thus far. "No pare- sigue! Sigue!" which roughly translates to "don't stop! Keep going!" I've been feeling this way since I've arrived so I'm finally taking some time to stop and reflect.

I haven't written anything for a while but I'm trying to make up for it now, so stay with me if this gets a little long today.

 

The most important news is that Kathleen is here!! Kate got to the parish on Saturday night and joined us during the mass. It was so incredily great to see her! Maybe now people will not think I'm her as much. =-) Saturday night we all crashed pretty hard-- Kate because she had either been traveling to Peru or through Lima since late Friday night and Mom and myself because we helped build the bedrooms on the house. (Sidenote- if I could stop ripping my clothes, that would be great! RIP Erin's yellow shirt). 

 

Sundays at the parish are a bit different. We woke up and had a fairly lazy morning until we left for a tour of the sites the parish runs around 10. This included the hospice, technical college, Catholic school, rehab center, and soon-to-be therapy center. We also had mass at San Jacinto, a beautiful, welcoming parish like none I've ever seen. Every building here is so open it's hard to tell if you're indoors or outside! After San Jacinto, we toured a field and spoke to it's farmer about the growing season and the church's microloan program. We also discussed the social revolution a bit that severely limited the farmers' authority and kept the vast majority of farmers in poverty. I also tried guava for the first time.

 

We had lunch back at Santisimo Sacramento and left for Catacao (where I learned it was NOT appropriate to call it "the cow" place). It was a quick trip to look for souvenirs and all three of us bought a piece of art. Then it was a quick trip back to Santisimo Sacramento and then off to Madre del Redentor, the girls orphanage.
 

First, let me say that up until this point, I very much liked Piura. Everyone had been very nice and welcoming and I felt like I made a difference on Saturday, but I hadn't gotten that "feeling" you're supposed to get on a mission trip. That changed at Madre. Madre del Redentor is an orphanage for girls aged 11-18 (I believe). For whatever reason, their families are not able to raise them. Madre is a safe home for them to get an education and be protected. And boy, are they protected. The walls around the compound are easily 15 feet high and have barbed wire on them.
 

Let me also say that it would be SO incredibly easy to get a big head down here. You pull into Madre in your big van and as soon as you get out, the girls, dressed in white blouses and pink skirts,  all say hi and give you a kiss on the cheek. One girl grabs your hand and does not let you go for the entire 2 hours you are there. They bring your to their chapel, where they pray 3 times a day, and sing "Hallelujah" in Spanish. Let me tell you, if there is anyone who can get through that song without tears in your eyes you are either a stronger person than I am or you have no heart. My friend was 11 and extremely sweet. We were shown their classrooms and dormitories. Right now, Madre houses 88 girls.  After a game that I still don't understand, they danced 4 traditional dances and 2 "fun" dances that we joined in on. Sidenote: Kathleen and I may have unintentionally gave these girls the impression it's cool to dance like us. We apologize.

 

We did not go to mass at Santisimo Sacramento because we went at San Jacinto so we picked up our room and FaceTimed Dad and Grandpa. Then it was dinner and all three of us were in bed by 9:30. 

 

Other highlights of yesterday:

1) Seeing the power that Alcoholics Anonymous has had worldwide. SS has meetings 7 days a week.

2) Padre blessing children after mass at San Jacinto- you would have thought he was a Beatle by the way everyone was rushing him.

3) Standing in front of the congregation at San Jacinto getting a blessing.

4) Learning that my friend at Madre's favorite story was Winnie the Pooh.

5) Kathleen playing the drum at the school. Don't worry. I have pictures.

That was Saturday and Sunday. Stay tuned for Monday later on! 

             -Erin-

                                         Saturday 
                                     June 18, 2016

I'm purposely not counting yesterday as a day in Piura for a few reasons:

1) We didn't actually get to the church until 10:00 AM.

2) We did not go out on a work site.

3) I was also sick-- I'm chalking this up to a mezcla de un dolor de cabeza (headache), el calor (heat), mis vuelos (my flights), y falta de dormir (lack of sleep).

4) I was so exhausted I didn't even want to think about blogging.

Today Mom and I went out with 2 other Americans- Mackenzie and Thomas, both in their 20s. We are helping to put on a bedroom addition to a house. Don't worry! We are with Peruvians who, thankfully, know what they are doing. We dug about 7 post holes while singing the song from "Holes"--- or maybe that was just Mackenzie and me. Then we either got promoted or demoted to nailing plywood to the frames for the walls. I like to think of this as a promotion in that there were times we were in the shade and sitting on the dirt We did have one casualty, though. RIP Erin's black pair of yoga pants. It was not the feral dogs or the nails but a rusty pipe I was using as a bench that did my pants in. Thankfully, we only had 5 minutes before we left for lunch.

It is now 1:45 PM and we have until 3 for siesta. I didn't really understand how much siesta would mean to me until this very moment. It gives me time to stop and reflect on our journey here, not just traveling, but the broader journey. I thought I had an idea of what life down here would be like, having been to Costa Rica and Tunisia and being fairly well-educated about poverty throughout my education, but I was wrong. Everything is so much hotter, dryer, and dustier that I had imagined. I said to Mom when we were digging the holes, "it's like Canton, but hotter and in Spanish!" I left out that it is much poorer too. 

The family whose home we are working on includes Henry, Liliana, and their 3 daughters, all of whom have double names and whom I'm failing to remember. One is Stefanie-Sofia, one may be Claudia-Jimena, and I think the last is Valeria-Rosario. All are extremely nice. Henry works as a gardener for the parish. At one point, Liliana brought us water and after we all accepted it quickly, Mom pulled out one of our empty bottles and waved it, saying "empty!" Naturally, Liliana thought Mom was asking her to fill it up but Mom was trying to show her how happy we were for the water she gave us.

I forgot how satisfying physical labor can be. Your body can feel the work in every part. In my school, almost everything I do is conversation-based- talking to a student about conflicts, collaborating with staff on how to help a student, consulting with the counselors about a particular issue. This work can also be exhausting, but today's work was on a different level-- not harder or easier, just different. It's like working muscles you haven't used in a while. Huh. That analogy actually fits perfectly with how I'm feeling right now. 

On that note, I'm going to go either sleep or color. Yes, I'm that person who colors to relax. We go out again at 3 and then we have Mass at 7 and hopefully Kathleen will be here by then!! So excited to see my "sisser"!       -Erin-

Peru 2016

                       PERU 2016
Inspired by last year's trip to Peru and encouraged by Kathleen and Erin, Cathy is returning to the same Catholic mission that they assisted at last year.

 Kathleen and Erin will be accompanying her.  This will be Kathleen's third trip to Piura, Cathy's second and Erin's first.

If you wish to follow their adventure they will again be posting to a blog. To find the blog please go to:  www.perublaney.blogspot.com.

Week 7: La comunidad

About a week and a half ago, my mom and I were feeling tired and dejected because "our girls," the group of nurses from Marquette and their fabulous instructor/ our new BFF were returning to the states. Throughout the summer, the parish has been a rotating door of wonderful and interesting people. Mom and I, as well as our friends Katlyn and Brian (the other summer veterans), have often joked about not getting attached to any of the volunteers. Alas, the departure of the second nursing group after an adventuresome month found us blinking back tears and hugging out our goodbyes with promises to reconnect in either Door County or Machu Picchu.

Needless to say we were feeling fairly dejected at Mass that night. Or at least we were until the woman who reads the prayer intentions smiled and waved to us (a friend from our trip to Ecuador). And until our friend Marcos and his mother came by our pew to give us hugs (a friend we made at church). And until we saw Julia, Patsy, Karen, Francisco and Julianna walk in (some of our favorite teachers from Madre del Buen Consejo/ fellow Ecuador travel companions) with their fearless leader Fanny (a former parish social worker-turned- principal). Until the Padre Nuestro and Sign of Peace when our friend and Mass server Renzo flashed us the deuce, and until a little girl named Jocelyn in whose classroom we had previously taught English ran over to envelop us. And until after Mass when we awkwardly and Americanly waved our "thumbs-up" to our favorite musician Johnny, and until we quite literally ran into Heriberto, whose family we have grown to love after being introduced by an Oklahoma missionary.

It was with a jolt then that I realized we weren't alone. By the grace and hospitality of the Peruvian people, we had become a small part of this community. And then I started to cry again because that is apparently what I do now (that and write in incomplete sentences).

I have never wanted so badly to belong to someone or something as I have to "these people," this community that has so lovingly and unquestioningly embraced us. This community that dedicates their lives in service and celebration of one another's humanity. This community for whom I have the most profound affection and admiration, and this community about whom I still lay awake at night considering how to best hug all at once.

As we approach the end of our time in Piura, I have found myself repeating a line from Tennyson's "Ulysses": I am a part of all I have met.

I am part of all I have met, all I have seen, all I have smelled, all I have tasted, all I have hugged, all I have cried with, all I have danced with, all I have I have sat in awe with as we watched confetti cannons and fireworks shoot across with sky. I am part of all I have broken bread with, all I have walked with, all I have prayed with, all I have sang with- from church hymns to retro 80s, and all I have served and sweat with. I am part of all I have slept in a pile of dirt with while awaiting the arrival of Papa Francisco and all of those with whom I've stayed up playing cards. I am part of all I have loved, all I have fought, all I have felt suffer and despair and all those with and for whom I have hoped.

But perhaps, most importantly, they are a part of me and WE are part of a beautiful community.

Kathleen

Deep gladness

I am currently sitting in the room that overlooks the parish lobby, drinking coffee, listening to the music of the Mass below and letting the not altogether unpleasant bitterness of the incense waft pass me. As such, now seems as good a time as any to share the simple pleasures I have come to appreciate about life here at the parish.

About three weeks ago, Mom and I (and two of our favorite staff members) were driving home from one of the most remote villages and I found myself smiling like a goon. This felt somewhat counterintuitive in so much as we had just finished several harrowing and truly heartbreaking home visits. By all intents and purposes, it should have been another day that I broke down and questioned the humanity of our choices, actions and circumstances. Instead, I felt my cheeks stretch and a familiar wrinkle around my eyes deepen, and it occurred to me that I was really and truly happy. Not happy because of the makeshift homes I had just seen. Not happy that a mother is sharing a plywood room with dirt floors and a single bed with her four children. Not happy to see or smell pungent trash littered roads. Not even happy that we were able to deliver food to people who depend on it for their lifeline (because really, should anyone really have to depend on the generosity or whims of others enjoy one of the most fundamental human rights?). But happy to be in this moment, with this community, in this place.

One of my favorite reflections comes from Frederick Buechner (Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC): "The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."

As a sit here this Sunday morning and consider all the gifts that have been bestowed upon me these past weeks, I think the greatest must be the recognition, realization and fulfillment of deep gladness that comes from living well and living intentionally.

For the last six weeks, I have been sleeping 7-8 hours a night, drinking 10 glasses of water a day, eating fresh and non-processed foods, attending daily Mass, reading, meeting new and interesting people, forcing my brain into overdrive to accurately interpret Spanish and working hard physically and mentally to do the tasks that have been charged to me. (I have also been brushing my teeth 3-4 times a day, though this is largely due to the amount dust that creeps into my mouth from riding in a truck bed for hours at a time. Still, I can't help but think my dentist would be proud).

I feel for the first time in a long time that I am truly living well. And not just because of the aforementioned physical aspects of life here in Piura, but because the work we are doing makes me feel fulfilled. Like I am finally in the right place at the right time doing the right thing. And for me, this is deep gladness.

I feel more like myself riding in the back of a pick-up truck, sharing a concrete bunk bed with my Mom, delivering food and bicycles, meeting people and staying up late playing Bananagrams than I have in a very long time. This is both empowering and challenging because I can't stay here forever. And I don't know that I should, even if I could. I think the challenge for me now (and for both of us really), will be finding away to rediscover that "deep gladness" when we get home.

Until then, I will continue to enjoy the simple pleasures of watching the sunrise, lying Vitruvian Man style on roof at night and loving the staff and people we encounter on a daily basis. 

Kathleen

The Gift of Transportation!

This week, although short because of our trip to Machu Picchu and because it is nearing the end of our stay, has brought about a few new work experiences. On Thursday morning, Kathleen worked as a nurse with the medical/surgical group from Oklahoma. They come down every summer and perform hernia surgeries from early Monday morning through Friday noon. She went on home visits to check on patients. They are sent home within hours after their surgery with only ibuprofen for discomfort. I went out to the villages to deliver, of all things, purses! We finished early and came back to the parish and helped assemble bikes. As most of you know, I am not engineerically inclined, but with the help of a good partner, we were able to put together a few of the single speed bikes. The bikes come with a pump, tools and a bell. While doing this, my excitement grew as I heard how they were delivered.

Most of you have either seen or heard of the Oprah show where she yelled to her audience "You get a car! You get a car! You get a car!" Well, today I felt just like Oprah! We got to be part of a team who gave the gift of transportation. We loaded 5 bikes into the back of the truck and rode to a far out village where everyone must walk miles to work or school. There are no moto-taxis, taxis or buses in these villages. We would stop as we came upon a man walking and give him a bike. They were thrilled! Can you imagine having your commute time cut so significantly?! We take so much for granted...electricity, running water, a means of transportation, telephones, wood floors, etc. This parish does so much good to help improve the lives of the people and I am so happy to have been a part of it. (Women do not drive cars, not do they ride bicycles.)

Today was also a little different because the large 52 member medical group and a family of 7 left the parish. Usually, large new groups arrive on Saturday, but today we just welcomed a deacon and his lovely wife from Oklahoma. We worked this morning at the girls home helping them with their cleaning. (I did dishes in cold water for 2 hours.) We joined the family group in taking out many of the parish employees for lunch at Chilis and then went on our bike deliveries before mass at 7:00. After dinner, we played Bananagrams with the only two new people to come today and our dear friends, Katylnn and Brian. It will be a very quiet week after the 74 people who were here this past week.
Tomorrow's plans include a trip to the beach!