Saludos, Montevideo

I always knew the day would come when I'd have to bid this fair country goodbye, I just didn't know how I'd go about handling it. Right now, I'm using drugs. Queden tranquilo! It's just over-the-counter medicine that I'm legitimately taking because I have a cold. Last night I slept for 13 hours and took a nap today as well. I never expected to spend my 2nd to last day in Uruguay too lethargic and pitiful to leave the house (except to go to the mall to use their wireless). But it's okay. Today I've just been reading and packing. I started reading "Saving Fish from Drowning" by Amy Tan a few days ago...a book gifted to me by my aunt and uncle two years ago for Christmas. I started reading it because of a comment my friend made to me a week ago. We were sitting around the fireplace in his house with some friends when Andres said to me "You don't read, do you?" It was an innocent comment, but probably said in the wrong language. If he asked me in Spanish "No lees mucho, no?" I wouldn't think anything of it, just a simple question. But since it was in English, it didn't sound as innocent with the same sentence structure. Puf! Of course I read! Then thinking about it, I realized that I really don't read aside from what I need to read for school, my Bible, and skimming over the news at cnn.com or in Newsweek. So thanks to the innocent challenge from my Uruguayan friend (or was he Swiss or Argentine???) I decided to start reading this silly book. I'm almost half-way through and it's pretty good. This is the first fictional book I've ready since my English class my Senior year of high school (I'm not counting all the books I read for philosophy 1st semester freshman year at UNC, because those were more painful reads than pleasure reads). It tells about the adventures faced by a group of 12 rich, intelligent Americans as they travel through China and Burma, all narrated from the perspective of their dead friend (who also narrates from the minds of each of her friends on the trip) who organized the trip but died about 2 weeks beforehand. There are a lot of Buddhist influences in the book and so far I've only counted one reference to Baptists and one to Catholicism, which I like because I have yet to read a book with as much Eastern influence. Tan does an amazing job with her apt descriptions of those precise, unforgettable travelers moments, but is a bit obvious with her foreshadowing and symbolism. But that's okay, right? If it was any harder to pick up on, this would greatly narrow her audience and thus her sales. Anyways, I'm really enjoying the book and hopefully it'll keep me sufficiently busy on the plane.

Plane. Tomorrow. I kind of fear my travels tomorrow, because for 20 hours, I'll be commuting through what feels like no-man's-land. Neutral territory. I'm not completely gone but I'm not completely home. I'm so not a fan of big change like this, and I am even less of a fan of saying goodbyes. I'm horrible with them. I never say what I want to say, nor know how to respond when people say really kind things. I also get really tempted to make promises I can't keep, such as "Yeah, I'd love to come back to experience the Uruguayan summer!" during which time I'll be in school or on Christmas break and visiting family. I guess it'll benefit my social side to get some more practice in. I'm pretty much packed right now and tomorrow I'll go into the city one last time to buy a few last minute things and have one last peaceful ride on the omnibus. Please pray that my health will improve for the flight!!!

To those I am leaving in Montevideo and Buenos Aires: Voy a extranar ustedes un monton! No pueden entenderlo, porque muchos veces, no tenia bastante palabras a decirlo o describir como siento. Pero gracias por todo que hicieron en mi vida...por orando conmigo, hablando conmigo, compartiendo su cultura y su vida con mi. Si pueden venir a los Estados Unidos, siempre tengan hogar en mi dormitorio!! Espero que podemos estar en contactos, y que van a decirme que esta pasando en sus vidas. Te banco!!! Besos mil!!!

To those I am coming home to: I love you all so much and can't wait to see you! I apologize in advance if I am spacey or acting overly attached to my experiences in Uruguay and Argentina. It's gonna be really hard for me to be away from this place, this way of life. But I am really looking forward to being a part of your lives again! I hope I don't seem too different, and that if I changed in ways that are evident, it is for the better. And please be patient with me if I give really vague answers about how my trip was because I'm still processing it and unfortunately don't have a catchy 2-sentence summary of the trip yet. Thanks for all your support and I'll see you soon!!!

Much love to all, you'll hear from me again in NC!!
Besos mil!!

Brittany

My Life Plan: A Response to my Father's Questions

Yesterday I received a worrisome email from my father filled with questions about how my time here in Uruguay relates to my education and my future, and how I'm going to validate the amount of money spent on my education. He posed some pretty big questions, some that I thought were a bit far-out to be considering now (such as what job I'll have the day I graduate), but nevertheless, could only benefit me to ponder. Entonces, I'll take it question by question.

Disclaimer to my dad: I believe that these questions are referring to my Uruguay trip, but as you know, I also went to a 10-day prayer evangelism conference in Buenos Aires, Argentina, spent a few days there before and after with some friends, visited an Argentine family I met in a church there, returned to Uruguay, and went back to BA to visit them again, thus totaling about 26 days in Argentina. While the conference was unrelated to my trip to Uruguay, it was a perfect compliment to my time here, so when I talk about experiences and lessons, it will encompass both countries. More of a disclaimer: Feel free to hold me to these hopes and plans of mine, but I'm not promising that any of them will happen. Life is a mystery and my path is unknown to me. I can only speculate what it might hold, and looking at where I am, my desires, and where I've been, this is the best I can come up with.

What did this experience do for you?

My understanding of the Spanish language mushroomed. My writing skills have improved by writing only in Spanish in my journal for the trip and also through communicating with friends here over the internet. I hear Spanish all the time and have a ton of Spanish music now that I've been listening to endlessly. I read the newspaper when I can and also read my Bible in Spanish. I've been writing down many new words I've learned and up to this point, I'm at 371. Granted, not all of them are in my working vocabulary, but there are also a lot of words that I didn't write down because now I use them so often, it seems pointless to define them. If it was just learning the language better, then I'd rank my experience here as a 9 out of 10. Todavia, es dificil para conjugar los verbos muy rapido, pero eso es algo que puedo practicar facilmente con mis amigos en mi universidad. Bueno?

I am also leaving this country with a new love/frustration (not hate) view of men here. Love them because they're very attractive, they can dance, they are protective, and they are very affectionate. I am frustrated with them because they honk/yell/whistle/stare at me when I'm running or just out on the street, many of them go to whore houses to lose their virginity at age 14 or 15 to "become a man," and they clearly show interest in certain unavailable girls but deny it later to their faces when confronted about it. But lucky for these guys, I also met some incredible men here whose impressions on me were so strong and positive that they more than cancelled out the negativity and I now can respect and cherish these men.

I'm leaving in awe at the hard work people invest in their jobs and studies, which I hope and believe will continue to shape a hard work ethic for me.

My experiences here taught me to believe in the power of the Holy Spirit and to make room for it to work in me and through me. Really. One thing that is so different about Christianity from other religions is that we believe that when a person becomes a Christian, God sends the Holy Spirit to live inside of them and be their guide and their strength. I was terrified that once I arrived at the evangelism conference, someone would load us up with salvation pamphlets and New Testaments in Spanish, send us out to the streets, and take tallies at the end of every day of how many we distributed and count success in that manner. But that was so far from what actually happened. How about for the first 2 days, the group, made up of people from America, Canada, South Africa, England, and Argentina got together to worship God, to hear testimonies and receive prayer from "born-again" prisoners (specially released that day to come and share with us), and to listen to some pastors and other people speak who encouraged us to "move our tent stakes" to make room for what God can and will do. We prayed for each other, we repented of sins, we got out of the way so that God had room to work. And man, how He did work!!! Short digression, I must tell Alejandro's story. I met a man, about 45 years old, in a plaza in downtown Buenos Aires at 6:45am. I was standing by a stone wall with about 7 people from the conference one morning and one girl was playing a guitar and we were singing some worship songs. It was still quite dark outside and so there weren't many people on the street yet. Some people looked at us as they walked past and others hurried by on their way to work. Alejandro looked, slowed down almost to as stop, which was just enough time for my friend Abby to say "Hola." Without hesitating, I walked over to him and started talking, not really sure what to say or why I went. After talking for several minutes, he joined our group and listened to the songs. We found out that he was a Christian, married with kids, and was on his way to look for a job because he had, just minutes ago, been turned away from one business he went to. We prayed that God would help him find a job that week, and we believed it. After sharing with us what joy it brought him to meet us, we told him we'd be out there the same time for the next 3 mornings while we stayed in the particular hotel and then we parted ways. Two days later, Alejandro returned with such joy on his face. He had to catch a bus at 4:30am to meet us out there at 6:30, but he was glad to do it because of the story he wanted to share. Alejandro got a job! Just later that day after we prayed for him….he was hired at a place where he will make significantly more money than his previous job! He also told us about how on the bus ride home, he started talking to a man who told him many of his problems and Alejandro, joyful as all get-out from just getting his prayer answered and being hired, shared his testimony with this man and led him to the Lord! Alejandro shared many things with us, and he returned again the next morning for the final time there, and we got him the phone number and address of the awesome church we were working with that was in a town near his, and he was so excited to be able to go there and bring his family! While Alejandro is sharing his story and ours, we are sharing his. Bryony, the girl who was playing the guitar that morning, and I got up to share his story in front of the church we were working with…the church that Alejandro planned to attend. This story is a motivation for me, and hopefully can be for you as well, if you'll move your tent stakes further, mas allá, to make room for God to work. This is just one story. There were many, many more. But I would like to think that those should be shared over a cup of coffee rather than in a blog. What did this experience do for me? It increased my faith. It repaired it, strengthened it, molded it. And for that, I will forever be thankful!

The last thing that I'll briefly touch on is perhaps the most dangerous thing that this experience gave me: it gave me friends and family down here. It gave me a reason to return. I remember that when I was booking my plane ticket back in March, I decided that I wanted to come down here for 2 1/2 months because I wanted time for real relationships to form. I can't even begin to explain how thankful I am for the people I met, the strangers who helped me get off at the right bus stop, the Santacruz family that let me live with them in Uruguay, the Salamone family that let me stay with them 2 different times in Argentina, my friends who took me out dancing, the incredible hospitality I received, the bilingual people who still let me speak Spanish to them even though English would have been faster, the Clarks for connecting me to the Santacruz family, the people who prayed for me. Then there's Ana, my sister, teacher, preacher, gourmet chef, fashion consultant, dance instructor, translator, guide, ambassador. I'd return just to see her. I have lots of reasons to return, and I probably will. I want to study abroad in Buenos Aires. I would love to live here…as in the Rio de la Plata region (name of a river that separates Uruguay and Argentina, thus I am referring to both countries). Don't worry, I won't make any hasty, reckless decisions. Oh wait, *remembers title of blog*, ok, I won't make any reckless decisions per se, but I probably will make some with reckless abandon. :) Que vida la mia!

How are you thinking about incorporating whatever you learned into your UNC education?

For starters, I'm hoping to get an A in my next Spanish class, which is Spanish 300, grammar. I haven't made an A in Spanish since my first introductory class my sophomore year of high school. I'll hopefully rock the conversation class (if I can get into it). Next semester I am taking a class for my Social and Economic Justice minor that is an introduction to Global Issues. I hope that I'll be able to incorporate what I've seen and learned about poverty and the socialist government here into what I learn in that class. I'm sure I'll be able to pull out a few examples from my experiences to include in papers. I've already seen improvement in my photography through the 2048 pictures I've taken. Almost half of those were taken for two fantastic organizations, Juventud para Cristo and CAIF (which educates children and adults on child sexual abuse)…which I can add to a photojournalism portfolio in the future. I'm sure I'll benefit more educationally from my experiences here than I can even begin to fathom, but this speculation is only of the horizon in the distance. Once I get there, there will surely be more to see and experience.

Also, I think my experiences in South America will greatly affect my time at UNC, education aside. After hearing the testimony of some prisoners down here and getting to go to a church service at a prison, I'll be getting involved through a ministry in my church in the Durham prison probably helping out with a Bible study they have there. I also will hopefully work more with the Hispanic community in Carrboro, a little town within walking distance from campus. There are a ton of ways to volunteer in that area. And I have faith that my strengthened faith will impact students on my campus as well in various ways. UNC prides itself on being more than just a superb liberal arts education, but rather a unique, diverse, and rich experience for each student who is willing. And that's what I have to offer next year, along with every other student. Our experiences, what we've learned, and how we'll let it change us and others.

Have you thought about having a job the day you graduate from UNC?

What would you say if I said that I wanted to marry right out of college and take care of the house and have babies? Relax, okay! That's not my dream. While I'd love to be married, make babies and adopt them, and share house responsibilities with an amazing husband, that's not what I see on the horizon. Maybe the next one, or the next, but surely not this one. I actually hope to not work the day I graduate, but rather spend time with my family and friends. But in all seriousness, the day or week after, I would love to think that I'd be working for Newsweek or The New Internationalist, but I'll need more experience beforehand. I can see myself working for a local newspaper or in publicity or something for the University. I think that I could easily work as a wedding photographer by then. I'm not sure that's something I'd want to continue as a career, but it could be fun for awhile. But I may go to grad school. Who knows though. If I do, I'd probably take a year off, during which time I'd like to return to Uruguay or Argentina and teach English in a private institution. I've already asked around and found out that, as a native speaker, I could easily land a job doing just that and make enough money to live off of and pay rent. While that probably wouldn't help me too much in saving money for when (if) I return to the US (or perhaps it will if we're in a depression by then, but hopefully not), it would pay for the cost of living where I am, thus being self-sufficient and not needing to ask my family for help. Let's pretend I stay in the US. I'll work as a translator somewhere. With the words "UNC graduate" and "bilingual" on a job application, it shouldn't be too hard to get hired somewhere. And once again, if we're in some horrid depression (which hopefully we won't be with a Democrat in office…please excuse my political comment. I just wanted to put an Obama plug in this. I actually am fully aware that it is not actually the president's fault for causing a depression or recession, unless they started a war *cough*, nor is it their responsibility to pull us out of one since the economy has its natural "ebb and flow" cycle)and jobs are impossible to come by, I'll just come here and get a job. Actually, what would be way ideal is being employed for the US but living in the Rio de la Plata region, thus making the salary of an American but living as an Argentine or Uruguayan. Omigosh, I sound so ridiculous saying that. Seriously! But I mean, it'd be like working for the US Embassy or something, which once again, I haven't ruled out.

Oh yeah, one final job proposition. I also have considered going to Seminary School for grad school. Or if not that, or even after that, I could work as a missionary. Did you know you get paid for that? I mean, if you do it through an established organization or church, they fund your time as a missionary. I'm talking salary. Crazy huh? Get paid to plant churches or do whatever missionaries do.

If it costs you $12-14 grand to be there each year, what path do you take that validates the cost of tuition/room/board?

My path is priceless. Isn't that not what you were looking to hear, haha. I think the bigger question, the question that you're actually wondering, is "What will you do with your life to validate all the money and time spent raising you?" It's a good question. Raising a child is expensive and what a "bajon" (bummer) it would be for her to continue taking and taking and not giving back to society when she is an adult? One part of reality is that I do need to give back financially to my country (and thus my parents' social security), but do note that I already have. Remember how much stuff I've bought over the years? All the things I've spent my money on? I've been giving back financially. The other part of reality is that the path I hope to take probably won't have much relevance in the validation of the cost of my college education, but will be a test to validate the energy, time, and love poured into me by my family, friends, teachers, and various Christian ministries. And the test or question of ultimate validation is whether or not I live my life walking humbly with my God and as a poured out offering of love for my family, friends, neighbors, strangers, and enemies.

After 4 years at around $50K, what's your job when you graduate?

See answer to the third question.

Now to anyone, especially my Dad, feel free to call me out if any of this is unrealistic or entirely illogical. I know I'm not the best at being a realist since I'm not yet jaded by the world, but I gave it my best shot.

Ramblings

I've had this page open and have intended to post an entry for the last 4 or 5 hours but have been wasting away on the internet. Thinking lots of stuff, not gonna post it though. Was listening to Black Eyed Peas, but that wasn't really helping my mood, so I've switched over to Celtic tunes. In the meantime, I've been drinking mate and thinking about the fact that I only have 11 more days here before I return to the States. And I feel like crying. Tomorrow I'm going to the peluqueria (the hair dresser) with my Uruguayan mom to try to get a Uruguayan cut before I go home...that may sound really stupid, but I just want to have as many ways as possible to remember this place. I really don't know what to write because I don't feel like ruining anyone's day with an extremely emo post, so for now I'll just list some differences between American verses Uruguayan life.

1. Greetings. In Uruguay, you kiss everyone on the cheek. First time introductions, friends, family, the church congregation, the pastor, the professor, the students. Most kisses followed by a hug. In the US, it's hand shakes and hugs. And if you're extremely affectionate than a cheek kiss, normally followed by a surprised look on the other's face.

2. Jeans. Most women under the age of 30 wear the skinny jeans. And I've never, ever seen 2 people with the same pair of jeans that I can recall, whereas we're all familiar with that same Express, American Eagle pocket pattern that nearly every girl owns. The men's jeans here are very fashionable. Most American men wouldn't be caught dead in these jeans for the fear of being considered gay, but classy jeans are happening here for the straight men too!

3. Men who stare. In the States, if I look over at a man looking at me, he almost immediately looks away. Whereas here, if I make eye contact with a man staring, he won't break the stare. I have to look away immediately or else that means that I'm looking for something more. "But I'm a strong, independent woman, and I won't submit to the authority of a strange man...I can't let him win..." says my American liberal arts education voice. He takes a step closer and I break and walk speedily in the opposite direction, starting to understand a bit more as I live out the stereotype of the male-dominated society in South America.

4. Printed pornography. In the US, it's on the bottom, back shelf in the bookstore. In Uruguay, it's at eye level on the magazine stands on every street corner. If you're lucky, there's a big poster of the front cover blown up and on the stand as well. I think that was more common in Argentina. And there are little fliers for prostitutes in every public phone booth.

5. Houses. There's a big, locked gate in front of just about every house here. It's just how it is. And a roomy house of the upper/middle class here is about the size of the downstairs of my house in the States, which makes me feel filthy rich even though my house is a very modest size.

6. Food. It's amazing here. People cook, all the time. There is such thing as fast food bc there are a good number of McDonalds here, but that's even considered classy, to go and eat there, people dont really do the take out thing. I must confess though, I was surprised to come down here and find that quesadillas and chalupas were non-existent here. Yeah, that's called Mexican cuisine. Here we eat things like stuffed peppers, pastas, baked chicken, vegetable tort (i think thats the english word for it, we call it tarta here), etc.

7. Cell phones. There's no such thing as a monthly plan. You buy your minutes as you go. And ppl normally text, even the old ppl here, cuz its cheaper than calling.

8. Dog poop. Whenever I used to see ppl scooping up dog poop in the US or see little special trash cans in the park for it, I would just think "stuck up Americans just want to win the 'nicest yard' competition." But now, I'm pretty thankful for those new regulations bc its just disgusting here how often I have to watch where I'm walking so that I don't have to spend another afternoon scraping dog poop off of my Chacos.

9. Laundry. I have yet to see a drying machine. Everyone hangs their clothes outside to dry. I think we can learn a valuable lesson from that.

10. Transportation. Everyone takes the bus. Even the rich businesspeople. It costs 13 1/2 pesos to go anywhere in the city, which equals about $0.70. I don't know why, but taking the bus is so soothing for me. Granted, it can get a bit crazy at rush hour or in the city when people get on the bus to sell band aids, tissues, play guitar, or recite poetry for money. But just to sit, look out the window, listening to my music, looking at all the beautiful people, recognizing people, eavesdropping, gotta love it.

11. PDA. Couples of all ages freely express their emotions for each other. Making out on the bus, the street corner, while walking, in the plaza, across the table in a cafe....

Ok there's more I could type, but now, after this entry has taken me 4 hours to write because I've continued surfing the web and got to talk with a very good friend, I'm now in a much better mood and don't need to add to my long emo list. Mas luego. Que sueño que tengo!

Lo que Dios hizo

So I've been having a crazy amazing time down here. I just got back yesterday from 3 weeks in Buenos Aires Argentina, 10 days of which I was at a Harvest Evangelism conference with Abby Irvin. So this whole time Ive been learning, making mistakes, testing my own desires, and trying to follow God, and being surprised by Him. I dont really want to leave this place though. I seriously don't have to. But the main reason I'll come back is for UNC. I have a vision for it. I have faith that God wants to work miracles on campus and that He desires to show His face to His people and that His name will be famous. I was freaking terrified to go on this Evangelism conference bc, heck, it was evangelism, I didnt want ppl to think I was a Jehova's Witness or that I wanted to push my faith on them. But thats far from what happened. This is what I learned. I learned to bless people, fellowship with them, pray for them, and proclaim God's fame. I learned to encounter the Holy Spirit, and that sharing with others and teaching them to encounter the Holy Spirit as well is just enough space for God to work. Like for evangelism, and well, for living, the more we stop trying to do things and convince people of our religion and the more we shut up and start praying and believing is when things start to happen. So that's a very general summary of what I'm bringing back to Carolina.

Right now, I know a handful of people from Carolina who are desperately trying to seek after God, and another handful who are just bored with it, and have no desire to associate themselves with God. Through amazing grace, I've been brought out of that. But those people must be crazy, you know, straying from God and being bored with faith. Not so much. I think part of the problem is me. And every other person on campus who claims to be a Christ follower. Let's actually point people to the cross. In our encounters with people, instead or in addition to trying to counsel them or preach to them or encourage them, let's first and foremost let all that be paired with helping them to encounter God.

Um, not really sure if I'm digressing or not, but really the point of this is to share with a bit of what God's been teaching me, what you should expect when I get back, and also to share this scripture I read today. Check out 1 Peter 1, especially verses 13-25. I can't help but think of InterVarsity when I read it. IV and all the Christians on campus as well. (Go read it now) Okay, so as a campus ministry, we want to be God's hands and feet in extending grace and love to the campus and to each other. GREAT! Seriously! But I think we need more of a foundation than that. Yes, we may say in a vision statement or something that we are doing this because of God's love that compels us or something, but as a campus ministry, we need to build up more of a foundation before or as we are moving outside our walls. Walls...now thats another topic for another time. Anyways, so hang with me for a sec, bc I see that in this passage, we are called to love each other sincerely, which once again we so desire for campus, a love that is extended to all in an unbiased manner and that is full of grace, but look at all that is written beforehand. WE ARE CALLED TO A LIFE OF HOLINESS. I wrote down 9 points to pick apart this passage. They are: 1. prepare your minds for action. 2. dont live in ignorance bc we are new creations in Christ. Thus, dont conform to your old desires. If we keep on sinning in our old ways, we are forgetting the life to which we are called. 3. Why should we stop sinning? Because it is written "be Holy, because I am holy." But this is difficult, thus....4. put your hope completely in the grace that will be given to you when Christ is revealed. 5. live your lives as strangers here in reverent fear. 6. Know your salvation! It wasn't paid for by perishable things, but by the blood of Christ, which covered all our sins. 7. Through Christ we believe in God, not through earthly love or through buddhism or through a bit of every religion or the good of humanity, but through CHRIST. 8. Purify yourself by obeying truth. 9. By this purification, you have sincere love for your brothers. THUS, love one another deeply, from the heart.

Ok sorry, outrageously long, but if we as Christians want to get to the last 2 points, we must purify ourselves. Our love for each other is nothing and means nothing and will do nothing lasting if it is not built up upon a foundation of understanding God's love for us and turning from our own sin and putting our hope in God.

I see more students preaching. I see prayer time not as a few weary souls who decide to go to the back of the auditorium for prayer, but I see people turning to their neighbor and laying hands on each other in prayer, tears streaming down cheeks, people repenting, hearts overflowing with joy, people asking their friends who aren't in IV if they can pray for them right then and there. I see it happening in UNC as it happens in Heaven.

There are people in Argentina who are praying for my campus. Believers there who don't have the will to stand when they worship, because they fall to the ground in humility and awe. A Christian band called Interprete Desconocido (im listening to their music now) of some 19-20 year olds who are SOLD OUT for God and want to travel the world bringing people closer to God's Kingdom, but don't have the money to get a Visa or a plane ticket, and who would LOVE to come to UNC's campus at some point. I can see them playing at UNC, boldly proclaiming the Gospel, preaching, praying over people to be filled with the Holy Spirit, lives getting rocked by that, I see some people from our campus ministry translating, I see the faces of my fellow Tarheels bowed before God. There is a church in a small town called Zarate that I briefly testified in proclaiming God's goodness and who I told about Bart Ehrman and how I have faith that God wants to call His son back to Him, and so they are praying for Ehrman as well. (The band is from that church). A woman from that church told her cousin about me and my testimony who is a leader in a church in Lincolnton, NC, with a mostly Hispanic congregation, and wants me to visit the church and who is praying for our campus as well.

This is only a small, small testimony of what God has done, is doing, and will do. I've messed up. I'm a sinner. We all are. But God loves us and there's nothing we can do about it. We can dwell on our sin and let it consume us, or we can repent and run into the arms of our Savior which are open wide and waiting for the return of His children. "Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in His wonderful face. And the things of the earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace."

Bendicciones a todos mis hermanos!!

Buenos Aires

Hola amigos! Ive been in Buenos Aires the last 2 nights in a hostel with my friends from UNC Catherine Steddum, Chad Mosby, and Johnathon Clemmets. Weve been going through the city seeing the famous things, my favorite being this huge metal flower (maybe 40 feet) that opens and closes like a normal flower would during the day. When we saw it in a plaza yesterday, we layed down in the grass and took a nap which was glorious, until our stomachs starting churning. Then, like your stereotypical American, we went on a search for a McDonalds (my suggestion, be quiet, i know its not healthy...) and i got to try a dulce de leche mcflurry...yall are missing out, thats all im saying. the mcDonalds here are really classy...the uniforms are really cute with a fitted brown shirt with little puff sleeves and there were computers upstairs for customers to use. not to mention the bathrooms were clean AND had toilet paper...a rare find in the city. Well my friends took off today, Catherine back to the US and Chad and Johnathan to Iguazu Falls to continue their journey. So Im staying in the hostel by myself, which is actually pretty fun (although its only been about 3 hours). I went grocery shopping and bought a ton of food and the most expensive wine they had (which was almost $5) all for about $12. Muy barato! Tonight I am meeting up with my other friend from UNC to go to the Los Cafres concert, a famous regge group that I listen to. Tomorrow Im going with an Irish guy from the hostel to some big camping store to help him pick out a sleeping bag among other things. He has been traveling for 5 months so far and has no time frame but wants to finish in Alaska...and isnt going to take any boats or planes. Today, I told him about the appalachain trail and how it takes most people 5 to 8 months to hike and he said, hm, I think Id like to do that. He was serious. So heres a girl who has hiked maybe 100 miles of the 2070 something trying to explain to someone who doesnt hike how to go about hiking the trail...hopefully well get some guidebook for him later. But the hostel is so rad...whenever I wake up, I go down to the first floor for the included breakfast of bread w a cheese spread and dulce de leche with a cafe con leche or a tea. Theres a TV, couch, bean bags, a bar, pool table, maybe 4 rooms with 4 bunkbeds each, 4 bathrooms, a cat, and several people that I havent figured out if they work there or if theyve just lived in the hostel for awhile.

Thats all for now, not too much deep philosophical stuff (whew!), and if youre reading this Id love to receive an email about what youve been up to and how you are doing and if i can pray for you. Besos mil!

This week I have enjoyed the abundant riches I have found in letting go. On Wednesday, I went to el Juventud para Cristo, a sort of safe haven for youth in a rough neighborhood. I was invited to take pictures of the daily activities and also of the young girl and her daughter. I began taking pictures in a cooking class (they were making pasta from scratch), then of some of the older kids about my age painting a golden-yellow room, a small class of 16 year-olds learning about, um, I think it was about healthy work habits or something related to getting into a career, and then finally of the mother and her daughter that I wrote about earlier. The mother of 17 years has a daughter who is 2. The father does not support the two of them in any way and used to beat the mother. The police aren't doing anything. The mom works a job,is going back to school, and goes to this center which has been supporting her the whole time. She wrote a biography/testimony of her experience which is being published and the organization was collecting pictures to send in. It was very humbling to take pictures of her and her daughter and to play such a small role in her getting her voice heard. I returned the next night without my camera, this time to take part in the bible study offered every Thursday evening. A friend of mine who I met at a bible study, Ana (not the one I live with), leads the group and invited me to come and share with them. After we same some songs led by Nicolas on the guitar and Javier on the bongos and I heard from all the kids (ages 15-19), I shared from the passage in Matthew 10:39 that says "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." I told them about how recently (since Sunday) I've been learning the lesson that it isn't until I die to myself and my plans and self-seeking goals that I will find life in God. By the grace of God, I talked about this in Spanish for about 5 minutes or so. I was both nervous and calm. I was nervous because I've never been around a big group of kids that age here (most of the time they've all been older than me and some spoke english), and I felt like I was being stared at, like that they expected me to be a certain way, or perhaps the very opposite, that they had no idea what to expect. So that was strange to feel, but hey, I'm learning what being a minority is like. But thankfully I was not nervous to speak, that came with such ease! Normally when I'm in a group that size here, if I dare say anything in Spanish, I can feel my face turning red. Thankfully that isn't happening as much now, haha.

I actually got to take pictures of the trash place, sorry, I really don't know a more politically correct way to say that. The pictures aren't great in terms of lighting and composition because I couldn't go inside and the sun was really harsh, but it still tells a bit of a story. I was driving with my friend Luis and he got out of the car and asked a man living there if I could take pictures and he was fine with it. Luis is in charge of Juventud para Cristo and CAIF which is the center for new mothers and their babies. He's kept and is keeping me busy in terms of photography! I accompanied him to a meeting that educated a lot of social workers and such about healthy family life, sexual abuse/health, etc, at this beautiful camp that's among farmland that he and others helped to build years and years ago. Fue relindo! (Very beautiful). There were about 30 people there from Uruguay, Argentina, Brasil, Bolivia, and Chile for this 3-day conference/meeting. It was so fun taking pictures of them and chatting with some of them. Luis and I have grown pretty close…he's a great, intelligent, humble man with a huge heart!

Saturday night I went out for the first time like the rest of the young Uruguayans. First I went to a pub to hear my friend's rock band play in this stone room that was underground…you can imagine how loud that was! The concert didn't start till midnight, so I took a bus into the city along with many rambunctious, fully pre-gamed kids and my friend Nicolas who speaks close to no English. The concert was so great although I didn't understand many of the lyrics. The band is a group of 3 Christian men and they often play in bars and such to spread their message of hope to that crowd. I apologize if this is really choppy…I'm exhausted and still recovering from going out that night. So I left the concert with some friends to go to Ciudad Vieja, or Old City, around 2am to find a club and didn't leave until almost 6. Ay! The buses start to run at 6am, so it was a convenient time to leave so we didn't have to pay for a taxi. So it was 7 by the time I went to bed, and I woke up at 10 to go to the house church around the corner to teach Sunday school…good plan, huh? Then after a 3 hour siesta and another café con leche, I went out to another church where one of the friend's I went with goes, and his dad is the pastor. It was hard to understand much of the sermon since it was a man speaking very fast Spanish (men here are so hard for me to understand), but I got the gist of it since I was familiar with the passage (Romans 8).

So yes, last week was full of opportunities as is this week as well. However, I know that Satan is right around the corner and wants to trip me up. I can see it several different areas as some of my friends here are feeling the same. Uruguay is such an interesting place with their beliefs. It is not common to find a practicing Christian here, so when a church or organization is doing great things to further God's kingdom, I'm pretty sure that gets Satan pretty pissed, and thus, I see him at work. But it's not ju

Revisiting the Mission Statement

I've been thinking back to my mission statement I wrote a few entries ago and am frustrated because I feel like I'm not living that out. But I want to. As a reminder, I wrote that I want to "pour my life out as an offering to God. I want to be spent, sold out in obedience to God...whatever that looks like. But to obey, one has to hear, which is another hope of mine while I'm in Montevideo...to have the desire to ask for God's voice, to actually hear it, and to radically obey. " So lately I've been focusing mainly on the obedience, but in that, distorting what obedience is…what I even wrote that it is. Obedience, to clarify to myself and to you all, is not doing things, but responding to God. I've been wanting to do things though, and I knew that before I came down here. I wanted to get up with the sun and take a bus into the city, volunteer for an organization or with a group for awhile, and return in the evenings to relax, go to church stuff, or explore the town. So can I just say how much that is NOT happening? Ever since I've arrived here, it seems like every door I try to prod open is locked. I'm talking won't budge. I've tried my best to make it known to the people I meet that I am here, have a free summer, and want to serve in the community by doing things. While there are surely many needs here, it is difficult to find someone who wants to be helped or a group who needs help. There have been countless times where I feel like yelling out "Hola! I have nothing to do! Does ANYONE need help?" So for any of you who are not abroad and thus feel like you're not "off saving the world," let me just tell you straight up: I'm not either. Uruguay doesn't need a gringa to do things for them. ..they have been very much self-sufficient for awhile. And those who need things generally need money, and I'm not really in a position to be giving a lot of that away.

Last night, my obsessive frustration with my lack of actual doing (even though I wanted to be doing) was revealed to me (probably unknowingly) by a missionary here named Charles…Kyle's dad. We were in house church and Ana was leading it, but Charles made some side comment (I don't even remember how it related) about the story of Mary and Martha in the Bible. In summary, Jesus went over to their house (they were sisters) and Martha was very busy preparing the meal and such for Jesus to serve him while he was there, and Mary just sat at his feet to listen to him talk. Martha asked Jesus to tell Mary that she should be helping her in the kitchen, but Jesus said that Mary has chosen what is better. I've heard that story many times in various sermons and Bible studies, but never when I actually needed to hear it. It made me realize that I've been hoping and trying to validate my time here by doing lots of things. All I wanted to do though was serve, who can argue with that, right? Wrong. Serving in any way is an amazing and humbling thing to do, but what is the point if I am not in communion with God…supposedly the one I am serving? As some of my friends know, it has been hard for me to pray lately, to even desire to do so, and the same thing with reading Scripture. Since those things are means of communicating with God, I am essentially saying that I haven't been wanting to talk to or know God lately. So I think that would make me some sort of a hypocrite if I was to work with some group, or even do anything "in God's name" or "to serve Him" when I can think of a million other things I'd rather do than talk to this "great God" with whom I'd like people to know that I am associated. Since yesterday, I haven't magically started desiring God as I used to, and I haven't done anything (since I've learned that's gotten me no where so far), but rather I've given up something. I'm surrendering my "good works." They're useless apart from faith. I surrender my striving. I am actually starting to believe that there is NO GOOD WORK I can do here that will earn God's favor or love for me, because I have it already. It is faith, in Him, just a loving relationship, a yearning for love and intimacy that I choose to fill with that which God can offer me. Well dang, I'm living here in Uruguay all summer and one of the first really hard spiritual lesson's I've learned is that I need to stop doing things. Great, that was an expensive epiphany. But what if I had to come down here to learn that lesson? I'm in no way saying that God couldn't have taught me this another way. But should I have stayed in the US this summer, I would be working as a rafting guide or a more boring job to stow away cash, serving myself. Sure I could've done other things, but that was my plan anyways. So I came here, expecting to serve, and realizing that it's SO not the most important thing. And I guess I had to get myself into a situation where I was obsessed with the idea of servitude in order for that lesson to sink in.

So now, I am letting God take the reigns. If he wants me to do something, He will have to make it abundantly clear to me, and in the meantime, I will seek Him where I am. This is not to say that I will remain locked in my room all day, but wherever I find myself throughout the day, I will seek to know God. Today, I was in the National Library (it took me 30 minutes to figure out how to check out a book, even with assistance, but then I realized I wasn't even able to take it out of there) and while I was reading a book on Uruguayan prisons, I just stopped and prayed "God, why the heck do I like this stuff? This is so strange that I'm fascinated by prison systems and means of rehabilitation." I decided to keep reading though, and I dared God to use this strange passion of mine, of His. It's little things like that…little daily surrenders and decisions that are so hard…not to actually make, but to turn to God and choose to share his mentality towards them.

While I was reading en la biblioteca, I got a call from my missionary friend Matt about meeting with a woman today about helping to lead a "conversation club" at a local English learning center. So today, the three of us met, and tonight, I went to meet 2 of the classes to just chat and announce that I'd be starting a conversation club, and will meet a few tomorrow, and will return on Wednesday for my first evening of convo club…2 in one night! So I'm pumped about this! The teachers are Uruguayan, so they introduced me as a "real native speaker" (not gonna lie, I totally felt like some sort of indigenous specimen) and people are excited to practice with me. Woot! (It's too bad people aren't as excited to meet me when I'm talking Spanish, haha) So this fell into my lap today, and so I say "yes" and thank God for the opportunity to be a part of education in this community!

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Hola! Here's a picture of me on the beach a few nights ago. That's the city in the background and a scarf I bought at an outdoor market.

I've taken the buses (called omnibus) here several times by myself...and managed to get off at the right stops! You have no idea how big of an accomplishment this is! They are usually tight w/ ppl standing up all the time. I started up a conversation with this older lady by offering her my seat, she refusing it, but the one next to me opened up and she sat down and we chatted for awhile. I know my Spanish is getting better when I can understand strangers with more ease and dont have to ask them constantly "Que?". So last night I was going to someone's house by the omnibus at night, got off at the right stop, but it was dark and dimly lit so I started walking to look for the street I needed (Mom, Dad, don't worry!). So this other guy who got off at the same stop appeared lost and came up to me and started speaking very fast asking me if I knew where some street was he was looking for. I stopped him mid-sentence and told him I was lost too. Okay, once again, dont worry, if I had any reason to be scared, I would've used my better judgment and not have revealed this fact. This situation was just hilarious though! He looked at me blankly and asked if I was serious, I said yes, and we both started laughing. We went to go read the street sign together and I actually was able to somewhat point him in the right direction. After an "hasta luego" between bursts of laughter, I made it to my destination about a minute later. Que bueno! It's a little bit of relief for me to know that there are Uruguayans who sometimes get lost and need to ask for directions as well...I'm not alone!

This is a picture of the yerba mate that we drink all the time. I'll be bringing some back to the States!

I'm using the internet in the mall right now and some guy is eating McDonalds at a table near mine. I find it so amusing that there are McDonalds in other countries! I'll have to try something from there later to see if it's the same...

So I've been doing a lot of thinking and talking since my last entry. I've been talking about poverty with a lot of people. For starters, I found out that the "trash dump" is actually an accumulation of all the stuff that the ppl who live there have "rescued" from trash bins around the city. It's things they can maybe salvage. So it's not like they had no where else to go so they just camped out in some trash. So after talking to some people, I've started to ask the question "Who am I to tell them that they need to get out of those conditions?" A lot of people who live like that are happy that way. They won't go to shelters or send their kids to school bc the kids make good money juggling on street corners. And so if the basic necessities, who am I to tell them that they should live differently? Karen told me that this mentality of needing to go in and change ways of life even "to help people" is such a typical Christian American mentality. But once again, I ask if it's so bad to try to get people into decent houses (by decent i mean one with a roof and 4 sides), get their kids educated, and at least sufficient medical care. Just their basic, basic needs. If they don't want it though, then I'd say that it shouldn't be forced. That sounds obvious, but I mean, for example, here in Montevideo the gov't built a big housing place for people in slums, and when they got there, they didnt know any better and some ppl took out their sink and oven to sell it and instead built a fire on the floor to cook over. So there I see the need for better education on basic stuff like how to live w/ those kind of things, but also, the govt cant do everything (even though they're socialists here) and we cant expect that they will provide for all the people's needs. (Feel free to argue this one) So this is just a demonstration of one culture trying to help another that is so different and can't adjust. Food is ready and waiting for me at home so I'm gonna go, but I'll try to draw some conclusion later (or at least admit that I don't have one), and I'm sorry if this didn't make sense.

Book Review and Social Justice

Another reader's discretion: this get's real.
I can hardly believe that it has been 2 weeks already in Uruguay. The time is flying! Yesterday I finished reading the book "Good News about Injustice" by Gary Haugen, founder of the International Justice Mission. It was truly an excellent book! I respect and find Haugen's views very wise because he is first and foremost a Christian who has sought to know God and whose heart breaks over the same things God's does, and he has also used his God-given gifts and talents to rescue and liberate suffering people around the globe. He is a man of great experience in the business world and has effectively started IJM which networks Christians who are highly experienced in fields of work such as lawyers, criminal investigators, etc to intervene on behalf of victims of injustice. What often happens is that missionaries will notice injustices but are unequipped to fight them or do not have the power or energy to do so alone. They can contact the IJM which will send professionals to investigate and verify the injustice and work to liberate the oppressed…all backed by prayer warriors that stay on US soil. For example, a missionary notices that several girls stop coming to the school she started. She hears rumors that they were abducted into a brothel. She can't just bust in there and free them, nor can she turn to the police who frequent the brothel. So she contacts the IJM who sends an investigator in there to get an undercover video of the police in the brothel and the video is turned over to the police's boss who cannot deny the evidence and the girls are freed.

This book is a heart-wrenching and encouraging read that challenges its readers to boldly step forth to fight injustice in any way they can from supporting missionaries to going to law school to clothing a homeless person. But the only reason it talks about any of this is because it is something that God wants to fight as well, and has chosen to use us in the process.

"Our calling does not stop with sharing the good news. All of us are also called to do something to care for the poor. If we aren't, then, asks the apostle John, how can the love of God be within us? (1 John 3:17). And we are all called to do something to seek justice for the oppressed. Why? Because along with mercy and faith, justice, Jesus said, is one of the 'more important matters,' one that none of us can neglect (Matthew 23:23)." ~p. 175

Haugen also says to claim through words or our lifestyle that proclaiming the gospel, helping the poor, and defending the abused isn't really "our thing," then we are making a "conscious decision to impoverish our spiritual life." (176). BOLDLY PUT.

On that note, my mind has been preoccupied as it runs from one seemingly crazy idea to the next, with interspersed whispers of self-doubt that big dreamers who want real change know too well. Allow me to try to recount what I'm thinking…the topic: what can I do, here, now, in Montevideo? Saturday I was driving with my new missionary friend Matt to this center that educates mothers on basic health topics and young children on avoiding sexual abuse. It was supposed to have opened yesterday…we went to waterproof the roof and worked with the American Women's Club or something…through which I made 2 friends from the US Embassy here. So anyways, on our way there, we picked up Matt's friend Luis who runs the place. We got to talking and I told Luis that I was studying photojournalism (or periodismo de fotografia) at UNC and he asked me if I would take a picture for an article someone in their organization wrote about a young girl who has a baby from when she was raped. Of course I said yes, psyched at how beautifully that fits into my love for God, photography, and the marginalized. I'm in the process of trying to coordinate a time for this photo. If this works out and I get to take this, this will be the most serious of any photography work I've done. I mean, I took pictures for my high school newspaper, but even some of the most serious pictures I took for The Howler pale in comparison to looking a rape survivor and her child in the eye through my lens to try to help them tell their story, a hard, painful memory that hopefully, after voiced to the public and perhaps other rape survivors, will serve some sort of purpose. And I have no doubt that it will, because God has been faithful in answering my prayers and the prayers of so many others on my behalf. A prayer that cries "I am here and willing! Use me!" So all this happened in the car ride before we even got there, and so now I'm thinking, "Well dang, maybe this photojournalism thing is truly what I'm supposed to be doing after all." As we continue the drive, we pass what appears to me to be piles of trash dumped on either sides of the road. I began to see dogs running around, then I noticed young children, and then their parents and "houses" as well. These tiny shacks that were open on one side were pathethic living conditions that one would expect to see in a displacement camp in Uganda, not a 10 minute drive from an upper-middle class neighborhood in Montevideo. Trash, people! They were living on top of and surrounded by trash!! Ok, so first this made me feel very thankful for the small apartment that a family of 3 has so kindly shared with me…for the warm water in the tiny shower and for the dresser I have in my room where I can put all Garnier Fructis shampoo, Neutrogena facial moisturizer, and my little purse that is full of pesos, even though I have to bend over pretty far to look into the mirror. I have 3 blankets on my bed that is scattered with books, my laptop, and a North Face jacket. AND I had more than my fair share of tasty food today and will be running it off tomorrow. OMIGOSH are you freaking kidding me? To think that I ever feel like I don't have enough is ridiculous! Ok, so that wasn't exactly a digression, but getting back to the point, along with tying it back in with what I've learned from Haugen's book is that it is a TRAGEDY for me to look at what I saw and to just feel a bit more warm and fuzzy and thankful when I go to sleep (fairly) warm at night (houses aren't heated here). We're not supposed to look at the suffering Christ hanging on the cross and say "Sucks for him. At least I'll never claim to be a King of the Jews." Instead, I believe that we are supposed to look at Christ's suffering and allow that to change us in a radical way, we're talking life transformation, not just a warm-fuzziness. Please correct me if I'm wrong in making this comparison, but I believe that we are shown suffering for the same reason…so that it will transform us if we let it rather than occupy our thoughts for a few minutes or seconds once every few days or weeks when we watch the news or walk past a homeless person, speeding up and avoiding eye contact. I believe that it is supposed to transform us because that is what it is doing in me. It didn't used to be this way. It used to be easier to write off poor people as lazy and the homeless and druggies, but not so much over the last few years, because as with any stereotype, when you meet someone who you used to classify in a certain group and realize that they don't fit the formula, you start to question a lot…and the scariest part, the part that screws up your emotions, your time, and your wallet, is when you start to have compassion on that person. Compassion has mostly just taken things from me such as those which I just mentioned, but it gives back love, a really strong love.

Dang this is long :). Please keep reading though. I am away from home and have to tell my story, tell their story.

So now I'm thinking, "What can I do for the people who live in trash?" As we had driven past, Matt mentioned "Now this would be a great spot to take pictures." Really? Go in there? But it'll probably smell….oh shoot, there goes my self-righteous attitude again. Yeah I'd really love to take pictures there. I want to talk to them in my limited Spanish, want to see what the kids do during the day, heck, I want to see what the parents do. I want to take the pictures to the government of Montevideo or to the upper class and say "Are you going to let your brothers and sisters live like this?" If they don't listen, I'll take it back to my home church. It's like my role as a photographer, if I am to do this, is similar to that of the missionary I mentioned at the very beginning. It isn't to give them money or build them houses, because there isn't much in that department that I can do on my own. What I can do is retell what could possibly be a compelling story to the public, and get people much more equipped and skilled to act than I am. Wouldn't that be nice and entirely ideal? Well why can't it happen? That's what I asked Ana. She told me that although it is the government's fault that some people don't live in real houses, a lot of people choose that lifestyle. Why? There are supposedly plenty of centers open that will take people in, give them showers and food, and help equip them with what they need to get a basic house built to start a new life away from the trash. But there is a schedule at those places. Often times, people there have to wake up at 7am to start their days…not entirely unreasonable, but when you live amongst the trash and don't have a job or obligations, you can sleep as late as you want. So for some people, it's laziness that keeps them from going. But I'm sure some of them have to guard their "houses" and possessions. Yes, that could surely be true. That's one reason. At this point in our conversation over dinner, I felt helpless. What am I, what is the world supposed to do if some people don't want to change. "That's where God is truly the only one who has the power to act. We can do all we want to help out, but we can't change people's mentalities. But we can pray that God will change them." Dang, that girl is wise. But the world isn't gonna buy it…that ancient systems and commonly held beliefs will change by prayer. Well little voice in my head that may be playing Devil's Advocate but is stifling my newfound voice, you can just be quiet because I have an idea, let's prove the world wrong. (Now addressing my readers rather than myself, I apologize for the schizophrenia…) Some study was done that looked at people who were ill who received prayer and prayed themselves for healing as well verses those who did neither. Results showed that one group did not heal more quickly than the other…so basically, that prayer is a bunch of bull. Well that was a study on faith, which defines itself as being certain of what is unseen (Hebrews 11:1), and I'm pretty sure that a study doesn't accept things that are unseen as evidence, so I think that study is bull.

So where to from here…."We want to be good Christians, but deep down we trust that only the power of the state and its militaries and markets can really make a difference in the world…..Amid all the buzz, we are ready to turn off our TVs, pick up our Bibles, and reimagine the world"-Shane Claiborne in "Jesus for President" p. 20. Vamos! Adonde? Let's begin by opening our eyes to suffering, letting ourselves have compassion on the oppressed, know that they are our brothers and sisters under God, let that move us, respond in practical ways in the vocation, location, or calling that God has placed on our hearts, and, above all, let us fix our eyes upon God, seek to know Him and His mysterious ways, and be bold in our prayers! Perhaps a summary of our response to suffering in the world in one sentence is too simple. Or perhaps it is what we need to go back to. The simple, the basic, the bottom, the radical.

Names, Death, Mission Statement

Reader's discretion: I recommend reading the last 2 paragraphs if you don't have time to read all of this.

Good news! Pedro, Ana's father, just learned my name today! Every since I've arrived, he has referred to me as "otra chica." Today, I asked his wife about it and she said he has trouble pronouncing it, so I wrote down my full name and told him he has 3 options.

Much has been happening here. I'm becoming braver with speaking spanish...I was very nervous and sometimes still am and would like to give up bc I feel like I'm so far from fluency, but I'm slowly getting there. And day by day I feel like I can converse better than the day before or at least I've learned a few new words. I write down most of the words I learn in a journal. It's like working out...you know it's good for you but you can't always see progress every day, but you know it's happening on a small scale as long as you are working on it.

So we got some really bad news the other day. Soon after Ana and I walked into the house after shopping at an outdoor fair/market, her mom Nelly got a call that Ana's cousin, Pablo died. He was only 20 years old. He was volunteering at this place in the city that is called a kids club or something that works with kids from very poor families, and I think he was playing a game with them or something and he died from electrical shock somehow. I didn't understand all the details. We had just seen his dad at the market because he is a vendor there. What's even crazier is that the place where he was volunteering was a place where Ana suggested that I could work with on Sunday afternoons with the same program. So crazy! Ana was a mess. Her parents didn't cry but she was all over the place. She was about to head out to her aunts house I think and I asked her if she wanted me to go with her or stay here and she was so selfless and stopped and said "it's up to you. whatever you want to do." And I said, no, what would you prefer, and she said it's whatever I want. I can't believe how focused on me she was in that moment when she should've been focusing on herself. I decided to stay because I think she needed time with family and close friends. I went to the funeral with them yesterday. It was so sad bc he was apparently such a joyful guy and he followed hard after Christ and impacted so many lives. It's very bittersweet that he died serving the Lord. Yet praise God, bc now, only 2 days after his death, people are starting to have peace about this. I mean, he's with God, and the way I see it is that we need to count his 20 years on Earth as a blessing.

20 is too young? But what becomes to appropriate age of death? Until the body wears out? For you and me that may be sometime in our 70s or 80s or even 90s, but what about for the child laborer in India or the enslaved prostitute in Manila? Their bodies wear out very quickly, so when their bodies are ready for death at age 30 but their souls are still young (if not worn out from the toils of their life), then the standard for death must change. But to what? See, while I believe in the existence of a law of human nature, call it a conscience, God, morality, virtues, whatever, I hesitate to believe that there is some ultimate standard as to what death should or shouldn't be. Early, late, peaceful, too painful? Since it has happened to every person who ever walked this earth (minus Elijah and Enoch, if you choose to believe that) and has happened in countless different ways and at different stages in life, I think that death is too diverse to take an average or ideal of the ways and times and say that death should be that way. I don't apologize if this is weirding you out, me talking about death. I'm far from suicidal and not exactly "emo," it just happens to be something people think about when they've recently been to a funeral. And we have no need to fear talking about it. We talk about every other stage in life, but death is this super scary, somewhat taboo topic that we'll think about, sorry, that I'll think about for a fleeting moment then put it back on a dusty shelf in my mind where I keep it locked up. But hey, we're all gonna face it, and let's not do so in fear. It is the healthy acknowledgment of death's inevitability and unpredictability that makes life so beautiful! As Achilles said in the movie Troy, the gods are jealous of us because we are mortal and any moment may be our last which makes it so beautiful. I don't really think that God is jealous of us, I mean, He could be, but you see my point?

People are praying for my safety, which is great and all, but which is greater? For me to come back to NC and have been entirely safe but not have been open to God or allowed him to use me and change me and dare me, that would be sad to me. Or there's the chance that I would come back and maybe something bad would've happened but I heard God's voice or I saw Him move or something. Not to say that one can't be both safe and hear God, but just with those 2 options, I'd choose the latter. Because my trip is pointless and my life is pointless apart from God. And if I were to forget that but be safe, that you should worry the most, because it is the condition of the soul that matters most.

If you've made it this far through my blog, then let me tell you this, I have feared that my time in Uruguay would go to waste. I don't have anything particular to do here, but I find various things arising, new friendships that cross generations, and different classes or house churches to attend. I've been afraid that since I don't have a set schedule of any official volunteer or missionary work (the definition of this is being reworked in my head), that God won't be able to use me. But seriously, I'm so thankful that He is much more creative than I am and has countless ways to work, reveal Himself, and use me that I can't even begin to fathom. ANYWAYS the point I'm trying to come to is that after sorting through all that has happened, all I have seen and learned, and the vast nothingness that I have accomplished, I have come to a conclusion of what my hope is for my time here. "Why are you in Uruguay?" people ask me. I doubt I'll actually say this, but the real reason that I've figured out, if you really want to know, is to pour my life out as an offering to God. I want to be spent, sold out in obedience to God...whatever that looks like. But to obey, one has to hear, which is another hope of mine while I'm in Montevideo...to have the desire to ask for God's voice, to actually hear it, and to radically obey. That's my mission statement. Please hold me to it! Below I have included some verses that inspire me while I'm here.

"For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel--not with words of human wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power." -1 Cor 1:17

"When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power." -1 Cor 2: 1-5

"Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak

and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked." - Psalm 82:3-4

"Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart." -Proverbs 3:3

Yerba Mate

Yerba Mate is a piece of Heaven in one's mouth. Part of it may be because it makes me feel like a true Uruguayan, y otra parte es porque the tea leaves son muy rico. Last night, el padre de este casa, Pedro, offered me yerba mate which is basically a way of saying "we are friends." The Uruguayans drink mate (pronounced w/ 2 syllables, ma-te) all day long. Today on the bus, there were at least 2 men carrying their mate gourd in one hand and a thermos of hot water in the other. People drink it in houses, on the street, in classrooms, etc. Mi madre aqui, Nelly, teaches at a seminary here, and I went to her class today that she taught on the Psalms. I understood maybe 70% of what was said, which I thought exciting! Classes are VERY small...I was the third student. Everyone greets everyone with kisses on the cheek, even the students in this class that I'll probably never see again. Just a heads up, I'm bringing that back.

I went on a run this morning on this walkway called the Rambla that goes for miles alongside the oceanfront. It was the first time that I was out by myself, which was a lovely taste of freedom. Everywhere in the city, no matter where you go, smells kind of dirty. But the water is fine to drink. So far. The guys here wear very fashionable jeans, different from the women's jeans, but still very fashionable. If an American man wore what these guys did, he would probably be labeled gay, but not here. I tried explaining this to Nelly and she got a kick out of it.

Last night we had a meeting with all the leaders of the different house churches that meets under this one church called the "simple church." They came over to our house and we drank coffee and tea, ate banana bread and they indulged in the Hersheys Kisses I brought from the States which I heard is a rare commodity here. They were so kind and stopped the conversation to catch me up on what was said, but spoke so fast and often times at the same time since it was a round-table meeting where everyone interrupted everyone, although I saw no tension among them. Uruguayan adults continue to surprise me with how much fun they can have, laughing during typically serious and stressful times like in the meeting or in line with strangers in an airport after our plane being delayed numerous times. I love that about this place.

Voy a leer. Aca, ellos usan "ir + a + infinativo," no usan el otro tenso del futuro.

Bienvenido a Montevideo

Hola amigos! Estoy en Montevideo, Uruguay. I want to write in Spanish but for the sake of my dear English-speaking friends and family, I will refrain. Although you may have to just translate certain parts if I switch over. I've been writing in Spanish in my journal and am pretty excited about that, but actually conversing with people is so much harder! I arrived this morning around midnight. It's been a bit of an adventure. Rewind.

I arrived at my terminal in the Raleigh airport around 4pm and found my friends Christina and Eric sitting at my gate to get on the same plane to Miami. They were traveling to Buenos Aires to visit Christina's family and then were heading off to Peru to do social/mission work. Our flight was almost 2 hours late, which was fine. As I was about to board, I saw a guy wearing a t-shirt from a climbing competition I went to, so we chatted it up a bit and will hopefully climb next fall after we get back into the country and before he leaves for the Peace Corps. So the flight lands in Miami, I get off, but Christina and Eric are already gone off to catch their next plane (the whole time I was worried cuz I didn't see them and I thought they were on my flight). So I get to the gate, they announce a change, I go to the next gate, they announce that the flight was delayed from the 11pm take-off time to 8am. So we all stood in line as they gave us vouchers for a hotel stay and some food. I met some older friends in line, Wayne and Theresa. Wayne spoke little Spanish and Theresa spoke no English. We stuck together and were a lively crowd. So when I got to my hotel room, I couldn't fall asleep because I was worried that I wouldn't wake up on time in the morning. Alas, I made the flight and arrived in Buenos Aires to find out that since I missed my connecting flight by 12 hours, I had to travel to another airport 40 minutes away. A rental car driver took me and this other Uruguayan man, Sebastian, over there. I met a man that Sebastian had befriended on the plane que se llama Heber who was a huge help! He helped me get through customs alright and bought Sebastian and I drinks as we were waiting to board our small plane to Montevideo. He was so worried that I wouldn't make it to my destination. So when we arrived in Montevideo, no one was there to meet me so I took out my short list of numbers and Heber and 2 of his friends, an older couple, were on their phones calling my numbers for me. They were so concerned and kind to wait with me. I guess it wouldn't have been a good idea to leave me alone at 11:30pm at an empty terminal with 3 young Uruguayan workers eyeing me as they drank yerba mate. We finally got through to Ana, the girl I'm staying with, and so she, her mom, and their friend came to pick me up. Heber and his friends gave me their numbers and told me to call them and come hang out later in the summer! It was SUCH a relief to get into the car with Ana and go to my new home in Uruguay. So after about 33 hours of traveling, I made it! Thanks to many kind strangers and a lot of grace.

Wow, I'm really sorry, that was a bit verbose. Today I did the basics...exchange money, buy shampoo, go to the panderia (bakery) with Ana. And I realized that my choice in shoes are very different. I knew going into this that few people here probably ever heard of Chacos, but I didn't realize that my Merrel clogs would look so ridiculous in contrast to the little cute shoes everyone wears here. I did have one pair of cute red flats I wore to blend in more so I wore those today. Just in case anyone was curious about my shoe crisis.

Tengo miedo. Escuchando a espanol es muy dificil! I want to open my mouth, but I'm afraid of being wrong. But that's okay. I've already been wrong SO many times and that won't change, but I'm just hoping that eventually all these wrongs will start paling in comparison to an acquired accent and extended vocabulary. Espero que si!

I do hope these entries will become more exciting. Once I get out more around the barrio I think it will. Hace frio. Tengo que buscar para mi chaqueta...