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...