Colombian Iguanas

I have a confession to make. Actually, if we’re friends you probably already know about how I'm not the biggest fan of lizards... Lizards of any size, shape or color. Yes, the tiniest little lizard will send me squealing like a little girl. I think my fear stems from a horrible experience involving lizards in my bedroom when I was a teenager, but that’s another story for another time.

Now, you might be wondering what lizards have anything to do with my post, and truthfully I don’t know why I started with the lizards. I spent a lot of time staring at the iguanas on the roof of my family’s restaurant in Cali this past weekend because I was sick and was laying in the bed trying to recooperate before my long bus trip back to Sogamoso. If I would have known about their daily visits, I probably would have asked to be put in a different room.... Ok, that would have just been rude of me, and sweet little Southern girls who are scared of lizards are not rude.

These are some of the ‘firsts’ this Southern girl experienced over the weekend:

• I traveled by myself in a bus for 4 hours in a foreign country
• I also managed to get to get to where I was going and back without a single problem (I hope you noticed that I didn’t mention doing this for the first time in a foreign country. I haven’t done this in the US either. No one really trusts me when it comes to traveling because I have a horrible sense of direction.)
• I got sick and went to a doctor in a foreign country
• I was unable to find the medicine the doctor prescribed for me to take so I could get over my cold faster
• I visited my family’s home in Colombia for the first time
• I took a shower in a semi-outside bathroom (it was very well shielded)
• I shopped in a ridiculously nice mall and only bought coffee for my boyfriend (If you know me this is a very notable experience)
• I saw stars strategically placed to mark where people who were hit by cars had died (These are all over the streets in Cali. There are over 5 million people who live there, so the availability of sidewalk space tends to run over into the roads…)
• I watched 2 iguanas crawl down from the trees onto the roof of my family’s house, and I watched a whole herd (not sure what you call a group of about 5 of them together) fight over the platanos my cousin tossed to them on the other side of the river

I've linked the title to a YouTube video I created by compiling some of the pictures I took in Cali. Maybe they'll help you understand why I'm not such a big fan of lizards... Maybe not. Either way, I’m pretty sure that I won’t be climbing any trees in Colombia because now I know that’s where they live…. Just in case you were wondering.

By the way, I do have other YouTube videos posted. I'm planning on posting more, but the connection here tempermental. I've got to figure out how to create my own channel. Does anyone know how to do this?

God Bless!
Amanda

Fruta Frezca

So, I’ve been in Sogamoso for almost a month now and I’m settling in pretty well even though things are very different here. For instance, they have a siesta from 12:00-2:00 pm. I have become a complete fan of this idea and will be vehemently lobbying for this to become a law when I get back to SC. Here, the day begins at 7am and I’m completely worn out by 12. This is all perfectly grand and dandy because I get to take a nap during the middle of the day! The most wonderful thing about this is that there is no one here to judge me for taking a nap!! They are all asleep too! The concept of the siesta is absolutely wonderful no matter what my mom says!

But, if I decide not to nap during the siesta I could walk down to one of the many locally owned restaurants in the center of the town and have lunch. In the US, lunch is pretty light; maybe a sandwich and a bag of chips with a soda. Not here. I’ve become a fan of the churrasco. Churrasco is a roasted meat that is typically served with a chimichurri sauce. I couldn’t begin to tell you what chimichurri is made out of, but it’s so good it makes me want to slap my mama (not really mom, I love you very much). Another reason I like the churrasco so much is because I know what it is. I was fortunate enough to find out what mute (pronounced moo-tay) was before I ate it, and let’s just say I’m not a very big fan of tripe.

So, the churrasco is this big slab of meat, kind of like a steak but soooo much more delicious, and it’s served with a pretty large portion or rice, some French fries, a decent sized salad and something sweet like jello or a cookie for desert. All of that is just for lunch. Dinner is smaller here because lunch is so big, but that’s a good thing because after such a big lunch you aren’t really too hungry for dinner.

One other thing I’ve come to appreciate here is the abundance of fresh fruit and vegetables. The best way I can describe it is… You know how in SC around June or July we have a plethora of fresh veggies? Well, it’s like that every day here, except there is no sweltering heat or suffocating humidity. I never knew that so many fruits that I’ve never heard even existed (yes, my mind can be pretty small at times). There’s this fruit called Lulu that kind of looks like a tomato. It’s only used for its juice, but it’s really sweet and tangy. It takes some getting used to, but now I know I’ll miss it when I return to the US because we don’t have Lulu there.

The availability of fresh fruit makes it irresistibly convenient to get whatever you want and wherever you want at a decent price. I bought a pound of grapes (which is uvas in Spanish for the inquiring minds) for about one thousand pesos. One thousand pesos sounds like a lot but it’s only about 0.50. That’s not the sale price either. I’ve attached a link to a YouTube video of a typical Colombian market (just click on the title Fruta Frezca). I’ve to been a few smaller markets, but they pretty much look the same. I hope you are amazed with all the different fruits and vegetables you will see like I was. God couldn’t have picked a better place to send me because I love fruit! I’m so blessed that I was chosen to be here!

Caracoli Part 2

Janeth and Elvia were two mothers who were raising their children in Caracoli. Janeth, who was not much older than me, had a beautiful spirit about her. As she walked us to her home she carried a huge sack of rice or potatoes that had been given to her by the director of the child care center. It was a pretty big bag to have to drag all the way through the barrio littered with debris. This was the first time I noticed the “agua negra” that ran throughout barrio. I’m not sure what was in the black water, but I think it was a mixture of human waste and other hazardous waste. It was very difficult to walk around and attempt to avoid the small puddles that were created by the augua negra, and I eventually gave up my efforts to do so.

We finally made a turn off the main road and began a long decent onto a steep lane that lead to the homes of Janeth and Elvia. The children helped the pastors and I traverse the unstable hillside with much ease and excitement. They were so proud and happy to have us visit their homes, and I was happy to be so warmly accepted.

Janeth’s home consisted of four brick walls with unintended holes scattered over the brick. The roof was made of a piece of tin that was held down by cinder blocks and buckets filled with sand or water. Her front door was a thin metal sheet that quietly clanged when the wind blew. Inside, there were two beds covered with a few thin blankets that did not appear to be sufficient enough to bring much comfort during the chilly Bogota nights. (To give you some sort of an idea of how chilly the nights are here, I started off with four blankets on my bed and I’ve upgraded to six. My neighbor and also my close friend, Liliana, so kindly lent me two more after I explained to her how cold I was during the night. I felt grateful and guilty for taking them after I remembered the families in Caracoli.) There was a small sink to the right of the room, and in the back left corner a curtain was hung up to allow for some privacy when someone wanted to use the bathroom. The floor was made of hard compacted dirt.

The family that lived here consisted of Janeth, her two daughters, her brother and her mother. They had a TV set up and a light that hung from the ceiling. In this small little home (I refuse to refer to it as a shack because the word just sounds lifeless to me) a family of 5 shared their lives together. We had a small devotional with the family. The Bishop said a beautiful prayer, and I held back tears when I heard his voice falter and when I saw him shed his tears. (I know I’m supposed to close my while we pray, but I was curious as to why he has stopped speaking mid-prayer.) As we left their home, I was greeted with a beautiful view of a hillside covered with children who were flying kites.

We walked further down the hill, again with the help of the excited children, to Elvia’s home. Though her home was larger, it was not much different than the one we had previously visited. She lived here with her five children and a chicken whose leg was tied to its cage. Once again we had a prayer, and this time I did not open my eyes when I heard the Bishop’s voice falter.

The completion of our visits led us back to the top of the steep hill. Along the way a little girl named Caroline asked me questions about the US. She wanted to know what the most popular food was, where I was from, if I had a boyfriend back home. She was a typical preteen girl, who had beautiful brown eyes and long brown hair. I felt bad telling her that I didn’t know what the most popular food was because we had every kind of food that you could possibly think of. She just laughed when I told her this, and started asking more questions about American culture.
As we stood and waited for the Bishop to come pick us up in his SUV, I took a long look at the sepia tinted world that I was invited into. I heard the laughter of children as they chased the stray dogs that populated the streets. I saw the wary eyes of old men who sat out in front of the stores. I saw the smiles of a mother as she said goodbye to us and gave us all farewell hugs.

Once again, I’m going to stop. Though my time in Caracoli is over, I still feel the need to reflect some more on the situation there and how I’m processing all the things that I witnessed.

Amanda

Caracoli - Part 1

So, I’ve had a lot of difficulty with writing this post. I have so many mixed emotions, but I know that I need to tell this story because it has changed the very elements of my being. I think that the reason I’m having so much difficulty writing about this is because what we consider to be poverty in the US does not even begin to compare to what I experienced in a barrio called Caracoli. (Barrio is the Spanish word for neighborhood.) I also feel that poverty is not a subject that people are fully open to talking about in the US. I’m not sure what is appropriate to talk about and what isn’t, so if I write something inappropriate here it was not intended.


I feel it’s very important for me to state from the very beginning that the poverty I experienced here was not from any fault of the people who call this place home. These denizens simply do not have the resources or programs readily available to help them get ahead. I know that may be hard for some to understand because the US has so many social programs solely based on providing opportunities for people to pull themselves out of the depths of poverty. This is not the case in Colombia, and Caracoli is not the exception. If you could see what I’ve seen then maybe you could begin to understand why people risk their lives just to get to the United States of America.


I want you guys to know what my initial reaction was to Caracoli. I felt like everything turned into Sepia. It was like I was in an old movie or photograph. I knew I was there, but I wasn’t supposed to be. ‘Places like this are not supposed to exist in real life.’ Sadly they do, and I’ve only experienced this kind of destitution in TV commercials. After I got over my initial reaction, I could not figure out why I was so angry. I knew that I wasn’t angry at the people, or the Colombian government, or even God. I was just angry. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen, and here it was right in front of me. Maybe I was angry at the injustice of it all. Maybe I was angry at my naïveté. Maybe I was angry at myself because I just had to have that ridiculously expensive purse for my birthday. I’d like to think that it was a mixture of all of these things, but I think that maybe I was angry because I felt like there was nothing I could do to help. I hope that by writing about it, and making people aware of places like Caracoli, I can.


I visited Caracoli one Saturday afternoon with Bishop Buitrago, Pastor Sandy Jones and Pastor Mark Cerniglia. Upon our arrival, I witnessed a group of maybe 4 or 5 kids carrying their friend who had, what appeared to me, been stabbed. I’m not sure if the child received medical care, but I pray that he did.


We parked in front of a small building that served as one of the Lutheran's social outreach programs. The building served as a child care center. The children were all so happy to see us. They were so full of energy and life. I wanted to forget the scene right outside the door of the horribly steep dirt road, littered with trash and debris, which had led us to this little room full of beautiful children. I met a few of the women who worked for the child care center. We were later warmly invited into their homes in the barrio.


Okay, I’m going to stop here because I have a feeling that this post needs to be broken up. I don’t want to lose your focus, so I’ll try to have the rest posted throughout the week. Take Care!
Amanda

I’m Not a Weird Missionary from the US. Yay!

Wow! I’ve made it to another country! Colombia contains possibly the most wonderfully intriguing landscapes I have ever seen. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would stand at the top of Monserate (pronounced like Mon-su-rah-tay) and take pictures of a beautifully enormous city down below. Bogota was amazing! I stayed in an apartment located in the IELCO office at the very top floor. To many this may sound like a pain having to trudge up six flights of stairs, but the view from my room made the climb well worth it.

Right below the sixth floor apartment lives the Bishop and his wife. I was welcomed into their home on various occasions to eat with his family. The food was very good! The bishop’s wife, Mary, put a lot of time and love into each meal. I didn’t feel like a visitor in their home, I felt like I belonged. The Bishop and his family have a way about them that makes them fun, friendly and inviting. His family and he are the embodiment of servitude. This special quality is what has made them such a special part of my journey.

While I was in Bogota I visited a beautiful botanical garden full of roses, road a llama (who will now and forever be referred to as Tina) and attended a beautiful worship service that would put any Baptist to shame (I’m from the South so I can say that :). I felt so much passion and compassion in that service that I was moved to tears. (Now, you guys know me well enough to know that I’m not really a crier, so this is a big deal.)

The sermon the Bishop gave was amazing and heartfelt. One could really tell that he meant every word he preached. (Yes, I did understand what he was saying, it just took me a little longer to translate than everyone else :) There was also an amazing youth group! I met a guy named Julio who played the guitar and sang. He was interested in knowing about some of the Christian bands that we have. (If you guys know of any please send me some names because I could only come up with a few.) This congregation was so warm and welcoming that once again I did not feel like the weird missionary from the US, I felt like I belonged.

During the service the pastor gave the members of the congregation the opportunity to say their prayers aloud. Even though I did not know many of the words they used, I could feel a passion and intensity in their voices that I don’t think that I have ever experienced. If anyone ever had any doubt about the presence of God before they entered, I’m certain their minds were changed because I could feel Him in the nave of that church.

But out of all these things that appear to make us different, the congregation at San Lucas is an inherently Lutheran Church. They have a well organized service just like us. They sing songs and read the gospel just like us. They commune just as we do. It was wonderful to feel like I belonged somewhere even though I am now currently thousands of miles away from home. This made me understand that no matter where I am in the world there will a place to worship and people who want to worship with me. This is an amazing feeling people! I hope that you see how our differences do not set us apart from one another and our goal, which is to be willing participants in God’s plan. It’s our differences that should bring us together. These differences should spark a curiosity about one another so we can help expand God’s perfect mission. I know that they sure were curious about you. Are you curious about them too?

I’m going to leave on that note so that you guys have something to chew on until my next post. I left out a lot of interesting stuff that you need to know. My stay in Bogota was so much more than I ever expected it to be. I’ll touch on that in my next post.

Thanks guys! Dios le bendiga!
Amanda

Go Meat! Wooo! (Click on Me!)

Let me start by saying it's extremely important that you understand my sense of humor before you start reading my blogs... I'm tremendously silly. I can find humor in the craziest places, this is why I have started this blog out with a Hillshire Farm commercial. Just click the title and you should see what I'm talking about. I can't help but to laugh. That chick is just like me! I've also ended it with a cute, yet extremely cheesy video of kittens...

I have realized that my trip to Colombia has already begun and I haven't even left the states yet. During this small revelation of mine, I felt that it was only necessary for me to start blogging now. I also find the act of writing extremely cathartic. It feels nice to be able to see everything in writing.

I feel like this experience began the first day I read the e-mail that Pastor Mark sent out earlier this year. He was looking for someone who was interested in teaching English as a Second Language (ESL) in Colombia. I felt strangely drawn to it (partly because I'm half Colombian and I have never fully experienced that part of my life). So, after answering his e-mail and a lot of conversations and e-mails between many other people, I am on my way to Chicago this Monday for ESL training and an ELCA training. I'm very excited about what this trip holds for me. I'm really not sure of what I should expect.

I'm 25, and I do not feel like an adult. (Isn't that sad? Aren't I supposed to feel like an adult?) I think this is what experts call my quarterlife crisis. I'm very close to my family, especially my mother. Sadly I'll admit that I have never traveled anywhere by myself.... Okay, well I have traveled by myself, but someone I know or am related to has always been waiting for me on the other side. I don't have any problems meeting people or making friends, and I've put all of my faith in God that he will lead me through my anxiety with grace and dignity. Y'all don't want to see me freak out either, so y'all might want to pray for this too! :-)

I do have one question though. Let me preface this by saying that I do feel like this is what God wants me to do with my life. I feel at peace.... But was there supposed to be this huge revelation? Do people get huge revelations and this amazing emotional experience when they have "the call"? It wasn't like that for me. Was it supposed to be? I feel like referring to an old children's song I used to sing in Sunday school....."I've got the peace that passes understanding down in my heart! Where? Down in my heart! Where? Down in my heart today!" I'm not going to sing the rest for you because I'm sure you've gotten the idea by now.....

God Bless!

I can't even begin to tell you why this made me laugh. It made me smile so I hope that it does the same for you! (Oh, and don't forget my preface about how crazy my sense of humor is!)

Kittens...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L6yzjDXp_og