Rostro's mission is to build relationships with the Ecuadorian people. Underlying that very simple mission is the defining of who are the "people." Is Rostro here to only befriend the impoverished? Do people who do not fit our ideas of poverty deserving of our time? Well who the hell am I to say who is really poor and who is not so poor? Nobody. I did not come here to compare or to judge the living conditions of Ecuadorians throughout Duran, Guayaquil and the Puntilla. I came here to insert myself into a culture and lifestyle that was unlike my own, so as to learn, reflect, challenge and change. I did not come here because there are poor people here, because there is rampant poverty throughout Chicago, but rather I came here because I was supposed to...why, I don't know!

Recently a community mate told me a story about how he went to a very nice house in Arbolito to help tutor a family in English. They were a middle class family which caused my community mate to question himself "Should I really be spending my time with a middle class family?" He explained to me that when he first arrived to Ecuador he was set on only spending his time with "the poorest" of people and so he caught himself questioning his visit to this obviously not poorest family. What I told him was "what did it matter, people are people." If Rostro is about building relationships it's about building them with everyone and not making ourselves an exclusive foundation.

We are here to enter ourselves into a society that is driven by the oppressiveness of systemic poverty. But aren't we also here to "be" and to give of ourselves to any and all? I fear that a danger to building relationships is this emphasis on building relationships is that we have to keep in mind, "Am I building this relationship for the right reason?" Meaning, do I really have a friendship with them? Are we equals in this friendship? Or did I seek out this relationship because this person is poor? They live in a cane house and I think that I should be there friend. There is a small selfish voice in the back saying "now I can tell people stories about how poor this person was and how great I was for being their friend." It just seems to defeat the purpose of building relationships if we are forcing them to fit some standard.

Perhaps I am ranting, or just not making sense. But I think that at the heart of this blog is the fear of objectifying people as "the poor," "the rich," or "the middle" and then somehow judging who is more deserving of our time. Do I go over to Nancy's house instead of Cira's because Nancy lives in a one bedroom cane house with her family and Cira lives in a 3 bedroom cement house with a TV and computer? Will I benefit anymore from going to Nancy's than Cira's? Or will I simply be spending time with someone I care about no matter where I go?

I struggle with the comparative poverty that happens within Rostro. I struggle with people judging our neighbors because they have nicer houses, because their streets are paved. I struggle with the emphasis sometimes placed heavily on the poverty of a person and nothing else. I struggle with the fact that my closest relationship is with a middle class family who still fights to stay afloat but is only seen for the nice material things they possess. I struggle with the idea that just because my students come to school dressed up and clean, doesn't mean that they are well behaved or any less poor than those kids who attend our after school programs. I struggle with a lot. So now what? Where do all these frustrations lead me? Are they legit? Do they matter? Will I just have to get over them and move on?

So many questions...and no answers.

I apologize for the delay in my blogs. I have not had the ganas (desire) or time to sit down and write a blog without an interruption or distraction. The majority of my time has been spent at Nuevo Mundo between planning, grading, writing worksheets and tests, oh and teaching. My days have grown very long again. I leave the house around 7am for the guarderia in Arbolito and then leave there at 12 to head to Mundo without a break or rest in between worksites. Some days I don't get home until 7pm and then still have obligations to fulfill within community. You could imagine that by the time I'm "free" the only thing I want to do is go to sleep!

I have been feeling very drained with all my obligations and work. I'm split between Mundo, my community life and my Ecuadorian friends who I barely spend time with anymore. I struggle with balancing it all and still making time for myself so that I don't go crazy. To be honest I'm at the point where sleeping in on the weekends can feel like a waste of time because I know I could be spending that time with a family. And although I know I am wearing myself thin, I feel like it's worth it because I need to take advantage of every moment I have left.

We have 3 full months and some weeks left. I continue to remind my community mates because it is on the forefront of my mind. There aren't enough hours in the day to do everything that I want to do / need to do and I struggle with how busy Rostro keeps us with meetings and other requirements we have to fulfill. I just wish I could live here without the restrictions and see how different the experience would be. I'm sure my Spanish would be a million times better if I lived with Ecuas. But there is no point in playing the "what if" game.

The new volunteers have been picked for next year, it's a very sureal feeling. I think part of me is denying the fact that another group is going to come in after us, out of selfishness of course. I think about the fact that these friendships I have built are now going to somehow transfer onto the new volunteers. I cannot help but thinking about it as a kind of "replacement" even though I know it's nothing like that. Sometimes I think "Mary, you knew coming into this program that you were going to leave in a year. You knew you were only temporary." And then I think about the hundreds of volunteers that have come and gone and how they are just as much apart of Rostro as I am. I'm not the first volunteer to experience this and nor will I be the last, and that's the beauty of this program. Although I am temporary Rostro is permanent, for the most part.

But I have finally reached a place where I can sit here and say to the new volunteers, "Here, take this experience and grow from it. Allow these people to change your lives. Allow yourself to be open and vulnerable with strangers. Learn to find God in ugliness." I feel ready to hand over the volunteer experience. I never thought I would get there. It feels amazing!

Samira

John Paul, Minoska, Queli (Kelli) and their cousin Samira are probably my favorite family that attends our after school program Valdivia. When I first began helping out John and Laura at Valdivs 13 year old Samira was slow to warm up to my presence at the program. Unlike her cousins who would run and jump into my arms Samira kept her distance and watched me from afar. Many times during recreo I would catch Samira observing me playing memory with Kelli or jumping rope with Minoska. Not sure what to do I thought the best thing would be to reach out to Samira, or try and get her to talk to me. It was a fruitless endevour time and time again. It was as if she wanted nothing to do with me and didn't like the fact that I spent so much time with her cousins.

I continued to spend my time at Valdivia with 8 year old Minoska and 5 year old Kelli, I couldn't get enough of them. The two sisters were not only well behaved but they looked out for one another making sure not to leave the other behind. I admired their closeness and maturity. And as we grew closer, Samira seemed to grow even further away. But there was something about Samira that just wouldn't let me totally give up on getting to know her. She was spunky and outspoken. She didn't allow anyone to push her around or bully her, nor would she let anyone do the same to her cousins. She was quick witted and sarcastic. There was something about her that made me want to learn her story, know where she comes from and follow who she becomes.

It seemed like an impossible task. Everyday I would greet Samira with a big smile and kiss on the cheek despite the fact that I could feel her want to pull away as soon as possible. I respected the fact that she didn't want to talk to me and knew that I couldn't force a relationship with her. After about a month of working 5 days a week at Valdivia , Samira gave me her first smile. I don't know what brought it on, but I don't care. I cherish that smile because I know it was genuine. From that day forward it was as if Samira was a completely different girl. When we saw each other she would run up and give me a huge hug and kiss, she would seek me out during recreo or activity to play with, she would joke and laugh with me. She turned into such a lifefilled girl, it was great.

After a few weeks of our new friendship I asked Samira about her family which eventually led to me coming over to visit one day. Though somewhat difficult we were finally able to set date for me to stop by her house and meet the family. I was nervous at first because I wasn't sure what kind of a situation I was walking into. What if they didn't want to meet me? Or what if they hated volunteers? (That's not too uncommon in AJS) And so I ventured over to Samira's house one Sunday afternoon.

Samira lives in a very small, dark and overcrowded house with her parents 3 brothers, sister in law and 2 baby nieces. I didn't go into the bedrooms but I believe that there are only 2 and they have matresses on the floor for the beds. When I arrived Samira was brining over a tray of food to the neighbors that her mom helps feed every so often. She looked like a little waitress balancing the 5 soup bowls without spilling them. When she saw me she flashed a huge smile and told me to wait just a second while she served the food.

The family was all very nice and welcoming. Her mom was suffering from a pretty bad headach at the time and her one niece wouldn't stop crying, but other than that I felt comfortable visiting with them. Her father and I talked about politics and the struggle for one to make their own life in Ecuador. Her mom told me about former volunteers that they grew close with over the years and how she loves to make ceviche. In fact I talked with Samira's mom and dad for over an hour as Samira sat on the couch withdrawn and quiet. I would try to engage her in conversation and she would answer me with one word answers, or if she began to say more she was usually cut off by one of the adults. I couldn't believe that this was the same spunky girl I had grown close to at Valdivia, who was at times quiet but always a strong presense. At home, she seemed to just fall into the background.

Why? Why must this young girl so full of life be silenced by her home enviornment? Why must she shrink her shoulders and walk around as if on egg shells in a place where she should feel encouraged to take pride in herself? I will not force my own opinions upon her family, her parents, or even Samira herself. I will not pretend to know the slightest about her situation after only going over once. But I will not pretend or try to forget the fact that Samira seems to be just one example of many of the treatment of young girls in the Ecuadorian culture. (I speak from my own experience here in Ecuador and do not wish to speak for all families or all Ecuadorians, generalizations are dangerous and usually wrong)

I worry that if Samira continues to fall to wayside at home that the wonderful spark within her will slowly fade. She will become jaded and complacent. I fear that she will fulfill her "role" as a woman, and not realize any of her own dreams. I fear that she won't realize her full potential and will give up by giving in to a reality that doesn't have to be her own.

La Gordita rants

Alright listen, Ecuador, just because you have no problem talking about body image doesn't mean the gringos are down with it. The only person who had the right to call me gordita was my grandma, and it was because it was said with love! A warning to anyone who wishes to come to Ecuador I hope you are secure in your body and self esteem because Ecuador will detect your insecurities and magnify them. But if you are secure perhaps the Ecuadorian health check system will make you questione everything you once thought you knew about health care.

You have a small pimple on your cheek? Well you better believe that thing will be the topic of conversation at dinner. How you got it, why you got it, how you can get rid of it. You probably have the pimple because you ate something wrong, or the climate. The remedy; wash your face with lime juice. (I've been told that once before)

Are you sick? It's probably because your stomach is delicate, and the climate. The remedy; don't eat anything with seeds in it because seeds "hace daño" and will create rocks in your organs. (no joke)

Do you have a fever or a cough? You were sitting in front of a fan too long, or because of the cold air from the refridgerator and of course the climate. The remedy; pass an egg over your body and don't drink or eat anything cold.

Wihtout a doubt no matter what your problem is the climate is a reason why it is happening. Never forget that the climate in Ecuador will apparently destroy you because it is the cause of EVERYTHING. According to the Ecuadorians that is.

Now last but not least, are you fat? Or maybe just a little extra junk in the trunk? Maybe a tad bit round about the edges? Woooooh let me tell ya you will never hear the end of it. Perhaps Ecuadorians think that you have forgotten what you look like, or maybe they are just so secure in their own jelly that they feel as if everyone should be comfortable talking about it. They will grab your belly and shake it, they will tell you should eat less because you are growing fatter, they will tell you that you are huge! It's as if you don't look in a mirror or live with yourself everyday, because they point out everything that is wrong with you.

Oh and if you're fat they will make you the standard. In conversations when describing people they will say how big or small they were in comparison to your size, oh "you´re nothing compared to how fat this woman was" or "she was probably the size of your leg she was so skinny."

Kids will poke at your belly, or maybe even ask if you are preggers. And like all kids they of course will tease you about eating all the food in the world or some stupid shit like that. People won't let you be even while you are eating dinner or enjoying yourself at a party, if you like the food you may get a comment that of course you do because you like all food. Or perhaps you will hear the comment, "if you eat a lot of rice you're going to look like[inseart your name here]." if you're dancing at a party you'll hear comments about how you need to dance to lose weight. There really is no safe haven from the comments. They will even be your personal scale! Oh you've lost weight, oh nope you've gotten fat again. It can be relentless at times.

And yet, you must accept it and develop a tough skin because that is the way of the Ecuadorian culture, hell that is the way of Latino culture. I know they don't say it to be mean, they do say it with love and for them it isn't insulting so I take it with a grain of salt. I've always been la gordita and I'm fine with it, but at times I just wish I could be something else.

Oh, Ecuador, I love you, but you're killing my esteem!

Reflections on being temporary

"I have bad news," Cira told me over the phone.
"What happened?" I grew concerned as I could hear the quiver in her voice from crying.
"There was a horrible earthquake in Chile and we cannot get a hold of my sister."
"I'll be right over," I said as I hung up the phone, threw on my shoes and headed over to Cira's house.

When I arrived Teo, Elysa and Sandra were all sitting around the living room as Cira sat at the computer screaming into the microphone. They had just connected with Sandra, their sister, over video chat and were talking to her about her condition. Sandra and her 3 babies, including one of 2 months, were all ok but they were without light and water. She informed us that her apartment building had been pretty shaken but no damage had been done, however, she was afraid of another tremor. Her husband was not home and she had no idea how she would be able to get all 3 babies out if another hard tremor hit. Through the computer screen you could see the strain in her face as she sat in her dark apartment contemplating what her options were, her voice cracked and trembled as did Cira's. The rest of us sat around looking at each other and saying things like, "God help us" and "Que horrible las cosas de este mundo." I was at a loss of words but as I sat there I knew that I wasn't supposed to have anything to say, I was just supposed to be there to support and pray.

I spent the entire rest of Saturday with Cira's family cooking, cleaning, wrapping birthday gifts and even going to a neighbor's birthday party that was being held out on the street in front of the house. We sat and watched as the rental trucks came in and set up the many tables, chairs and tents. We watched the DJ set up his huge obnoxious speakers at either end of the street and begin blasting music hours before the party even began. Then we watched as the cotton candy and churros machines arrived along with the clowns and face painters. And then right before the guests arrived we watched in awe they brought out the birthday cake, an 8 car train with different characters from the show Ben-10. It was trully an all out birthday extravaganza....for a 1 year old.

How surreal it was that only a few hours before we were all sitting around the sala with tears in our eyes wondering if Sandra was alive, and there we getting ready for a party. Of course the party wasn't going to be canceled because of the earthquake in Chile, nor were Cira and her family going to sit around and be sad all day, but in some small way the events of the day brought me back to the theme of being temporary.

Two weeks ago I finally received my first retreat group of the year, Dominican Academy. They were an outstanding group of high school girls who came to Ecuador over their week break to open their eyes and hearts to the effects of poverty. They came to do what many people are not able to do they came to put a name and face to "the poor." At first I was hesitant to have a retreat group because I wasn't sure what they were comind down here for, was it to get away from the bitter winter? Was it to "do" something? Was it to just put another stamp on their passport? Judgements, I know, but also big questions that I ask about all retreat groups. Motivations are so important in coming into other countries under the title of a "service trip" or "service immersion" I should know, I've gone on them myself. But after the amazing group from DA my judgements were blown out of the water.

My time spent with the incredibly well educated and mature ladies from DA revitalized my hope in education and reminded me of the importance of both fromal and informal education(as well as single sex education, although I'm a bit biased). But the short week they spent here also proved a glimpse into my own experience in Ecuador. As the girls began to meet more people from the community and spend more time with the kids at Valdivia they felt the burden of building relationships and then leaving them. Many times during reflection the idea of "turning your back" on someone came up as they talked about how they make themselves a presence in the lives of the people and then quickly are ripped away from them, most likely to never come back.

Doesn't that just sound horrible? Yes, but oh wait...I'm doing the same thing but on a much longer scale. Year after year volunteers come and go, they build their relationships, they share themselves with the neighbors and then they return back to the United States to stay. I too am apart of that cycle. I am here "replacing" a volunteer and soon enough another young freshly graduated American will come and replace me. In 5 short months I will return to my life in the US and I will have left so many people that I have grown close to. People I have grown accustomed to seeing every day, people who I eat, laugh and even have cried with. And people who will probably never travel outside of Guayaquil let alone to the US.

Those kids at Valdivia that run up to me every day and greet me with a hug and kiss, soon they'll be doing that someone else. And perhaps they won't forget me, and perhaps they will think about me as much as I will think about them, but the fact remains I am only a temporary figure here and everyone knows that. While the group was visiting with Jesus they asked her if it was hard to constantly have new groups of volunteers come in and out and she responded, "Yes, we cry a lot" with tears builing up in her eyes. I had to divert my glance so that I didn't start crying myself. A few days ago I mentioned, again to Jesus, that we were at the 5 month mark, she said to me as she stood at the stove cooking, "I don't like to hear those things." And truth be told, I don't like to say those things.

At times I wish that I was just here living on my own not being apart of Rostro. What would my experience look like then? I think I could play the "what if" game all day long, so I won't because it gets me nowhere, but it's so hard not to do at times when I wish things were different. But I should say that there isn't a single part of me that questions my choice in Rostro or my motives for coming down. The program I feel was tailored to my strengths, otherwise known as my social skills. I walk down the street and have at least 1 person to stop and have a quick conversation with and I spend hours on end chatting with neighbors, it seems that the language barrier is not a barrier in terms of my need to socialize!

But what is going to happen to these relationships when I do leave? When I get swept up in life back in the US and don't have as much time to spend writing and calling, how will I sustain them? Perhaps I am asking these questions too early in the game, and not living in the present moment. But it can be difficult to live in the present when it seems as if it's just slipping away from me. Am I just going to end up hurting people like so many before me have done? I know the fruit of the labor is there, but at times it seems to be hidden.

Although this blog may seem to be a little on the "downer" side know that it's not written out of sadness, only concern. I am so happy here at times I wonder if I was meant to live in South America...don't worry, Mom, I'm not getting any ideas. I just think it's important for people to understand that life down here isn't just all fun and games and extravagant birthday parties, it's real.

Birthday Ecua style

Tonight my birthday festivities come to an end after a 4 day extravaganza! Allow me to fill you in on my Ecuadorian birthday.

The celebrations began Thursday morning at 1:00am when Laura and Julia sang Happy Birthday to me while holding a candle. It was off key, but beautiful. Later that morning as I was getting ready to leave for work, I heard loud smacking noises coming from outside. When I left the house I discovered it was Maximo and Wellington, two of our guards, smacking their leather belts against the cement post. They were practicing their swings for the lastigatos they were about to give me. It's tradition in Ecuador to whip the birthday person for how many years they are turning. It's actually quite an awkward event, especially when it's two big men coming at your ass with thick leather belts. But before they each gave me one whip, they presented me with my birthday gift: chocolate bread and juice. They went gentle on me and made sure to hit hard enough for me to feel it without leaving any marks! (mom probably thinks this sounds so strange, and i'm sure one of my brothers is making fun of it as they read!)

I then went to work where I was met with Happy Birthday wishes from all sorts of faculty, staff and workers. People who didn't even know me were giving me hugs and kisses. And every time I walked past the snack bar Tia Jackie would yell "Que viva la santa!" which is also another birthday tradition here. My students were very well behaved and we had a great class. I left Mundo with another gift: diet coke and two small cakes.

Later Thursday night was the best part though, my community mates threw me a surprise party! Dan, Theresa, Karla and Jaime came over from Arbolito after work and helped cook dinner and bake a cake. I was taken on a wild goose chase to get ice cream with my Ecuadorian friend Denisse as the distraction to get me out of the house. When we arrived home, I knew something was up, and as I approached the hosue I heard them quiet down and then turn off the lights. Yeah, we aren't that great with surprises, but it's the thought that counts! It was great to see everyone though, Chris and Jake came up too! We ate dinner, chatted, then Dan shoved cake in my face and we all sat around talking and laughing. I couldn't have asked for a better birthday.

Friday Cira and her family invited me over for dinner and cake. I have blogged about Cira before and feel like she is just such an important person to me here in Ecuador. I have grown very close to her and her entire family which includes mom, sister, brother in law, kids and various cousins and neighbors. It felt like I was at home with my family as we ate and told funny stories. As usual Yudy, Cira's brother in law, berrated me with questions about "in your country is it true..." We ate delicious food, an even more delicious cake and then enjoyed each other's company.

And then came Saturday, the day we had been waiting for. On Saturday night our neighbors Jesus and Walter threw a joint birthday party for me and their grandson Matias, who turned 4 on the 11th as well. Earlier in the day I journeyed out to the Outlet Mall with Denisse to buy a cake and other party necessities. It was nice to spend the day with her, walking around the mall, chatting about our lives. She also has an affinity for Hello Kitty and Strawberry Shortcake so obviously we were ment to be friends. We spent most of our time trying to find party decorations of either cartoon character...we were unsuccessful. But anyways, Saturday night we all put on our dancing shoes and headed across the street to Watler and Jesus'. We ate dinner, had cake, took a million pictures and then danced danced danced. Then we stopped dancing to do the 23 whippings. Everyone took a turn giving me 3-4 whips, which let me tell you was pretty embarassing. Jesus insisted that she give the final 3, and let me tell you I'm still sore! She did not mess around with that whip. After the whipping the dancing continued until about 12am. Just like at Cira's I felt right at home and like I was where I was supposed to be. At one point during the photoshoot, Jesus called out "Walter come take a picture with your daughter" and it ment so much for me to hear that, because that is exactly how I feel...apart of the family. I never thought I would get to that point, but I have and it's amazing.

Steve, Laura, Chris, Jake and I then came home and stayed up until 3am watching the final episodes of Glee (Best birthday present ever!). And then today, Sunday I woke up late, went to the boardwalk with Laura, Steve and Alicia's family, and now I await for my group of retreatants to arrive. It has been a very busy but lovely couple of days full of so much love and laughter. I even got to talk to some of my family on Saturday afternoon which was truly the icing on the cake, to be able to have my two lives be entertwined if even just a little.

So yet another mile marker has come and past way too fast. We are entering the 3rd week of February and the time is flying by like the planes above our house. I'm excited to have a change of pace with my retreat group and to have a slice of that immersion trip vitality. As I now start my 23rd year on earth I begin it with energy, happiness and a desire to love love love! (oh, Happy Valentine's Day!)

Quick note: Carnival has begun. Today on the bus Steve and I were soaked as a kid threw a bucket of water at us. Tomorrow begins the war that is carnival. More to come soon!!

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...