We come to share our story. We come to break the bread. We come to know our rising from the dead.

As I closely am approaching my sixth month mark here in Ecuador it seems inevitable that I have reached the point where I begin to ask myself why I am here. For a few days now the thoughts that have filled my mind are thoughts of doubt, insecurity and confusion. What am I doing here? Why did I come here? Why am I in this program? How the hell did I get here?

Most of the time I try and reflect on the path that lead me to where I am today, a path that at times seems to have disappeared in the depths of my doubt. I often times imagine myself in that scene from Alice in Wonderland when she is following the path that the Cheshire cat told her take and just as she thinks she is getting somewhere her path is swept away. Poor Alice stands on her one square of path left looking longingly back to where she came from and desperately forward to where she was headed but all she is met with is the darkness of her surroundings.

While this may seem like a very dramatic example it is somewhat comparable to my experience in Ecuador as a volunteer. The other day I received an email from good ol' Mike Polish who wrote "It'll be interesting to look through your emails after you're back and chart your emotions because it kinda looks like a roller-coaster." And Mike couldn't have said it any better because most days I feel like I've been thrusted around and had the wind knocked out of me over and over again, but then there are the other days when I simply can feel the freedom that comes from being airborne. If that makes any sense.

Now unlike the rollercoaster Alice was on in Wonderland mine will never prove to be just a dream. I will not wake up one day and realize that these past 6 months have been just a figment of my imagination. No when I wake up I am reminded by the heat, sweat, noise, smell and drab colored sky that this is my reality. But truly what a beautiful reality it can be.

I have been in a funk for a few weeks now. I've been sick, stressed, frusterated, sad and incredibly homesick. A bad combination of things to say the least. It has been difficult for me to see the good in life here in Duran, to be witness to the transformation that is taking place within me and my community. I have struggled to see the positive in any situation and have often times allowed myself to wallow in self pity and negativity. All of which is natural but draining nonetheless.

But even when I found myself laughing and enjoying my time with friends my mind would quickly turn to the same questions, "what is my purpose down here?" It especially is difficult to answer when our form of service is being and not doing and we strive to think of ways to help people that are sustainable and not just a bandaid solution. Which then leads us to talk about what happens if we do give a hungry child a piece of bread or banana one day, if he comes back the next day with his brother, and then the next day with his sister and so on. Do we continue to give them food, or do we try and find a longer solution to their hunger? We want to continue to give them food because we can, but we also have to think that we are only here until August so then who will feed them after we leave?

It seems as if these questions have been coming to us much more frequently these days. We have entire dinner conversations or we stay up well into the night talking all these things through, and of course we never come up with any real answer or solution. We are left standing on our piece of the path without knowing how to go forward or how to go back.

And so with all these thoughts consuming my mind I have found it difficult to concentrate anything else. I needed to talk and to someone who I hadn't already talked to for hours an end. With few English speakers handy I turned to a woman who I felt could give me some perspective and objective advice, but also a woman who would give me the blantant advice I needed. And so I turned to the one and only Pat Mcteague.

As blogged about before, Pat is one of the co-founders of Nuevo Mundo, the school in which I teach. Hailing from Canada originally she spent most of her youth growing up in the best city in the world Chicago. She has now lived in Ecuador for something like 30 years and her vision of equal education for all children is truly inspiring. Now Pat says what's on her mind. She's direct, sometimes brash, and usualy has the last or only word on a matter. In other words she tells it how it is, a quality I find quite refreshing in a person. Mostly she reminds me of my family members back home who don't often beat around the bush when they have something to say.

So I went to Pat to work out the kinks that were within my head and heart. I sat down and threw up my thoughts, questions, frustrations and emotions that have been building up over the past 6 months all over Pat's small blue walled office. She listend to me contently and didn't interupt me as I rambled on for longer than I should have. And then when I took a breath she began to offer me not her advice of age old wisdom, but her story. Her story full of struggles and victories, of openness and vulnerability. Her very real and human story.

The fact that I felt so comfortable with Pat then allowed me to share just a glimpse of my own short life story. And I told Pat that I just didn't understand what my purpose was down here. I told her how I could no longer see the path that lead me here and I cannot see the path I am supposed to be following. Midway through telling Pat a story she stopped me and said "that's why you're here, to share your story." Well why didn't I think of that before?

And so I left Pat's office with a sense of peace and clarity, but also with this new reflection of "sharing my story." I do think I am here to share my life with my community and my neighbors. I believe that I will grow close to them through sharing my life with them, including my defeats and greatest achievements. To share my story full of love, family and overcoming outside obstacles. A story full of character and many twists and turns. A story centered on faith. A story dotted with funny anecdotes and quotes. A story of laughter and tears.

I feel at times that my story is one that many of our neighbors have found relatable in that we have encountered several of the same experiences. I of course in no am comparing our lives, because it's so hard to do so spanning so many different areas. But I am saying that when neighbors realize we hold an experience in common they have oftened replied with "I didn't think that happened in the United States," or "I only thought things like that were common in Ecuador." And these have been experiences that I know many people have in the US. Yet the US stereotype and image seems to be ingraned into the minds of people throughout the rest of the world. And while I am only talking to a handful of people, perhaps through the sharing of our stories we are beginning to bridge the huge gap that remains between our countries and cultures.

It is through the sharing of ourselves that we come to know others more fully. It is through making ourselves vulnerable and open that we can trully enter into relationships not only with those around us, but most importantly with God.

So at this point in my Rostro year I can say with confidence that I am here to share my story. And through the sharing of my story I will connect with my family, my community, my Ecuadorian community and my faith. Perhaps I'm not as lost as I thought I was...