The real goodbyes have begun. The newbies get here tomorrow. I have 7 days left in Ecuador. I have a full workload at Nuevo Mundo. I'm anxious, sad and unable to really understand what it means to say goodbye to this experience. All in all I'm freaking out!
Today I woke up with a pit in my stomach and my mind and heart racing. Who do I visit? What do I say? How long do I visit for? With time dwindling down I feel apprehensive and like I am going to waste the time that I don't have. But since then I have calmed down. Why put such pressure on myself? It's unnecessary.
Yesterday was my goodbye party at the daycare. The teachers kept telling me that I had to come in on Friday for "sorpresas sorpresas sorpresas!!!" (surprises galor). I had no idea what to expect, and although this place has been somewhat of hell on eart, I was still sad to say goodbye to the teachers. Well it was just a lovely morning. The children were behaved and the teachers put on a great show. First it was a surprise apperance by the "cuatro chicas" four teachers who dressed in florescent clothes and did a choreographed dance. Then there was a skit about being generous with your time and money to help those less fortunate. (the value of the month is charity) and then each class presented me with gifts; a basket of goodies, earrings and then a drawing of Guayaquil done by one of the teachers. The show ended with the teachers singing a special song of goodbye. I of course was a blubbering fool and unable to talk or even say thank you. I won't miss the daycare but I will miss the teachers who have kept me laughing and have taught me what it means to be patient.
Then today I stopped by Gabriel and Theresa's house down the street. When my schedule was more flexible I would stop by their house once a week or so in the beginning, unfortunately I haven't been able to visit in a while. Either way I went today to say goodbye because once the newbies get here there will be no time. And when it came time for me to leave Theresa began to tear up which just made the tears come even faster. I can't even put words to the feeling of saying these indefinite goodbyes. It sucks.
After this quick cyber visit I'm going to go over to Wellington's and dance reggeaton with the girls, then go help Cynthia put together her boquets for her wedding. Then probably back to Wellington's to watch a movie. Tomorrow I'm waking up early to eat encebollado with Steve, then lunch with Javier and Cynthia, then I'm staying at Cira's all day until it's time to go pick up the newbies. Sound busy? Yea, well I'm leaving myself no time to sleep or be alone. I'll have enough time to do that back home when I'm jobless!
I still need to buy as many bootlegged CDs and DVDs as I can fit in my suitcase. Speaking of suitcases, mine is already packed. I packed up all the clothes I'm going to bring home which isn't alot. All that is left are the nicknacks I have picked up throghout the year. It feels weird being in a somewhat bare room, but it also makes it a lot more real. I have been in denial that I am leaving well not anymore, as Theresa said "the rose colored glasses have come off."
Nothing too profound to say in this blog, just keeping you all updated. See you all very soon!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
My Mundo
I feel a strong sense of pride for my students at Nuevo Mundo. I think they are the greatest kids in the world. Don't get me wrong I've had some pretty rough days with these students, struggling through their inability to understand anything I say, to getting them to stop talking about Lady Gaga's latests video, or trying to break up a fight about which boy in my senior class is more of a "mandarina" (a slang term for calling a man homosexual). There are days when I walk out of the classroom entirely defeated and wanting to never come back. But then there are days when we all seem to be on the same wavelength, like we're all finally speaking the same language...usually that language is Spanglish.
Last Thursday I think I realized how mutual the respect and care is between the students and volunteer teachers here at Mundo. Since it was Theresa's last day our Seniors secretly planned a goodbye party during recess with all of our classes. The ploy was that we had a meeting with our supervisor, but too bad our students are horrible at keeping secrets and told me on Tuesday what they were planning.
So on Thursday Theresa and I got caught up in some parent meetings and then finally made our way to the "meeting" escorted by two of our senior boys, Jesus and Joe. All the students were gathered outside in the patio area surrounding tables full of pop, cake and candy. It was so great to see all the students mixed together and helping to throw the party. We were gifted beautiful hand made cards by our 8th and 9th graders, and then our senior girls bought us tagua jewlery sets in our favorite colors. We spent the 30 minutes eating, drinking and taking ridiculous pictures. It was great.
I won't lie though it was a bit odd for me since I still have 3 more weeks here at Mundo so my real goodbyes will not come for some time. But in that sense the party wasn't a goodbye, it was just a celebration of the year. It was happy and joyful, it was a great example of how motivated our kids are...to get out of class!
I love my job here at Mundo. I love the staff, the administration and most importantly, the students. Leaving this school on August 6th will without a doubt be my most difficult goodbye here in Ecuador. But before then I have a mountain of work to do, so I'm off to begin tackling the tasks that lie ahead.
3 weeks left.
Last Thursday I think I realized how mutual the respect and care is between the students and volunteer teachers here at Mundo. Since it was Theresa's last day our Seniors secretly planned a goodbye party during recess with all of our classes. The ploy was that we had a meeting with our supervisor, but too bad our students are horrible at keeping secrets and told me on Tuesday what they were planning.
So on Thursday Theresa and I got caught up in some parent meetings and then finally made our way to the "meeting" escorted by two of our senior boys, Jesus and Joe. All the students were gathered outside in the patio area surrounding tables full of pop, cake and candy. It was so great to see all the students mixed together and helping to throw the party. We were gifted beautiful hand made cards by our 8th and 9th graders, and then our senior girls bought us tagua jewlery sets in our favorite colors. We spent the 30 minutes eating, drinking and taking ridiculous pictures. It was great.
I won't lie though it was a bit odd for me since I still have 3 more weeks here at Mundo so my real goodbyes will not come for some time. But in that sense the party wasn't a goodbye, it was just a celebration of the year. It was happy and joyful, it was a great example of how motivated our kids are...to get out of class!
I love my job here at Mundo. I love the staff, the administration and most importantly, the students. Leaving this school on August 6th will without a doubt be my most difficult goodbye here in Ecuador. But before then I have a mountain of work to do, so I'm off to begin tackling the tasks that lie ahead.
3 weeks left.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Lists
Funny how dependent we can become upon things like daily planners, calendars and lists. Today I arrived to work without the most important thing in my teacher bag...my "to-do" list. I've been wandering around Nuevo Mundo without a clue as to what to do or where to begin. It didn't help that our schedules were thrown off when they informed us that we wouldn't be having our seniors at all this week. How we are going to get grades in for this parcial is beyond me.
I've been so unfocused for the past 2 hours and it makes me frusterated and annoyed because I know that there is so much to be done I just don't know where to begin. Theresa leaves next week, so this is her last week of teaching at Mundo with me. She and I have been co-teaching 3 classes together and when she leaves I'll be on my own for 3 weeks. It's an overwhelming feeling especially because I will have to prepare for more classes and then write/proctor/grade final exams. All of this must be done before August 6th, my last Friday at Mundo and in Ecuador. The pressure is certainly on.
For our final week in Ecuador we will have to orientate the new volunteers, "show them the ropes" if you will. Well as excited as I am to meet the new volunteers and help them transition into this experience I feel very torn between my two responsabilites as volunteer and teacher. I'm called to be fully present to both groups and that seems almost impossible. I'll let you know how it goes when I see you all back in the states.
This weekend we have our final retreat. It will be nice to reflect but at the same time all I want to do is hang out in the neighborhood. We only have 2 free weekends left, that's just not enough time! Ahh.
Alright, I'm off to class. Less than a month and I'll be back in Chicago...wow
I've been so unfocused for the past 2 hours and it makes me frusterated and annoyed because I know that there is so much to be done I just don't know where to begin. Theresa leaves next week, so this is her last week of teaching at Mundo with me. She and I have been co-teaching 3 classes together and when she leaves I'll be on my own for 3 weeks. It's an overwhelming feeling especially because I will have to prepare for more classes and then write/proctor/grade final exams. All of this must be done before August 6th, my last Friday at Mundo and in Ecuador. The pressure is certainly on.
For our final week in Ecuador we will have to orientate the new volunteers, "show them the ropes" if you will. Well as excited as I am to meet the new volunteers and help them transition into this experience I feel very torn between my two responsabilites as volunteer and teacher. I'm called to be fully present to both groups and that seems almost impossible. I'll let you know how it goes when I see you all back in the states.
This weekend we have our final retreat. It will be nice to reflect but at the same time all I want to do is hang out in the neighborhood. We only have 2 free weekends left, that's just not enough time! Ahh.
Alright, I'm off to class. Less than a month and I'll be back in Chicago...wow
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
What have I gotten myself into??
Within the past 2 months we have made over a dozen trips to the Guayaquil airport. We have spent hours inside the arrival area watching the jumbo screen flash pictures of the Galapagos and the nicer parts of Guayaquil; we have eaten more ice cream cones then necessary, and we have waited for large retreat groups to make it through customs and baggage claim without any major problems. It's a pretty taxing part of our job discription...wasting hours.
But this blog is not about the airport pick ups, it's about the drop offs. Last night our beloved downstairs neighbors, Chris and Jake, returned to the U.S. As blogged about before, they were a couple working at Nuevo Mundo and living in the small apartment below the AJS volunteer house. Chris was a former Rostro volunteer 2 years ago and came back when she was offered a job as head of the English department. They arrived in early October and proved to be a huge part of the AJS Ecuador experience. We shared dinners and community nights together; we celebrated birthdays and watched all four seasons of Dexter with them, and despite the fact that they had no affiliation with Rostro or even lived with us, Chris and Jake became apart of our community without much effort.
And so after weeks of saying, "wow, you only have a month left....you only have 2 weeks...you only have a day" we said the real "goodbyes." It was a sad goodbye filled with tears and hugs, "see you soons" and "I can't belive the time has come." And after giving our biggest hugs and warmest wishes of safe travel, we left them at the exit tax stand and made our way to the car.
The time leading up to Chris and Jake's final week here in Ecuador seemed to be very surreal. It was if no one wanted to admit to themselves that the goodbyes were coming so as to avoid the sadness that comes with them. We scrambled to spend as much time as possible with them, hanging out until 1am reminicsing about the past year and eating as much junk food as humanly possible. But no matter how much time we spent together, it just didn't seem to ease my nerves about the fact that after they left we would never have those moments again.
But Chris and Jake's departure was just a small foreshadowing of what lies ahead for us in just a few weeks. As I watched Chris and Jake hug our young neighbors across the street I couldn't help but picture the 5 of us saying the same goodbyes, experiencing the same sadness. And after leaving them at the airport I felt as if I was experiencing a new emotion, one much deeper than sadness or anxiety. It's as if I have a pit in my stomach or a lump in my throat but with hope and happiness attached. It's strange.
It seems like everything these days has been centered around saying goodbye, and logically it comes at this time when we are preparing to leave, but it seems to be covering up all the happiness that is still to be had. I continue to be amazed at how our neighbors allow themselves to grow close to volunteers when all they do is leave them behind. I can barely stand it now, let alone on a yearly basis. And the cynic in me has to ask, "who is this program truly benefiting?" Why do we do this to these communities and people? Is the pain and sadness that we all experience truly worth it? Or have we all done this with selfish motivations without thinking about those on the other side?
Oh, the big questions that just never seem to stop coming and never have answers. But at the end of the day, I can't help but ask myself the most difficult question, "what have I gotten myself into?"
But this blog is not about the airport pick ups, it's about the drop offs. Last night our beloved downstairs neighbors, Chris and Jake, returned to the U.S. As blogged about before, they were a couple working at Nuevo Mundo and living in the small apartment below the AJS volunteer house. Chris was a former Rostro volunteer 2 years ago and came back when she was offered a job as head of the English department. They arrived in early October and proved to be a huge part of the AJS Ecuador experience. We shared dinners and community nights together; we celebrated birthdays and watched all four seasons of Dexter with them, and despite the fact that they had no affiliation with Rostro or even lived with us, Chris and Jake became apart of our community without much effort.
And so after weeks of saying, "wow, you only have a month left....you only have 2 weeks...you only have a day" we said the real "goodbyes." It was a sad goodbye filled with tears and hugs, "see you soons" and "I can't belive the time has come." And after giving our biggest hugs and warmest wishes of safe travel, we left them at the exit tax stand and made our way to the car.
The time leading up to Chris and Jake's final week here in Ecuador seemed to be very surreal. It was if no one wanted to admit to themselves that the goodbyes were coming so as to avoid the sadness that comes with them. We scrambled to spend as much time as possible with them, hanging out until 1am reminicsing about the past year and eating as much junk food as humanly possible. But no matter how much time we spent together, it just didn't seem to ease my nerves about the fact that after they left we would never have those moments again.
But Chris and Jake's departure was just a small foreshadowing of what lies ahead for us in just a few weeks. As I watched Chris and Jake hug our young neighbors across the street I couldn't help but picture the 5 of us saying the same goodbyes, experiencing the same sadness. And after leaving them at the airport I felt as if I was experiencing a new emotion, one much deeper than sadness or anxiety. It's as if I have a pit in my stomach or a lump in my throat but with hope and happiness attached. It's strange.
It seems like everything these days has been centered around saying goodbye, and logically it comes at this time when we are preparing to leave, but it seems to be covering up all the happiness that is still to be had. I continue to be amazed at how our neighbors allow themselves to grow close to volunteers when all they do is leave them behind. I can barely stand it now, let alone on a yearly basis. And the cynic in me has to ask, "who is this program truly benefiting?" Why do we do this to these communities and people? Is the pain and sadness that we all experience truly worth it? Or have we all done this with selfish motivations without thinking about those on the other side?
Oh, the big questions that just never seem to stop coming and never have answers. But at the end of the day, I can't help but ask myself the most difficult question, "what have I gotten myself into?"
Monday, June 14, 2010
lloronas
My friend Cira, continues to be probably my best friend here in Ecuador. We are nothing alike, she is a 33 year old single mother supporting her 2 children on the basic Ecuadorian salary, $250 a month. Everyone who has met her agrees upon one thing: She crazy! She talks a mile a minute and is the worse gritona (a woman who screams loudly) I have met down here. When we began spending time together in early December I had to always ask her to repeat what she said or explain it in another way, but now our conversations can flow with little to no interruptions. That trully was a triumph.
Cira has told me before that I am her first "gringa" friend, and it is for that reason that I believe we have developed such a strong relationship. I am not "volunteer Mary" I am Mary the volunteer and those are two totally different things. She is not friends with me because she is friends with Rostro, or because she lives across the street and feels obligated to host me, she doesn't benefit from our foundation in anyway. We became friends because we are cowokers, we are neighbors and we found something within each other that we like. I am going to say that my friendship with Cira and her family is the most sincere relationship I have here in Ecuador.
Cira and I have one thing in common, we are lloronas, or women who cry a lot. Today as she was selling ice cream during recess I sat at the stand with her and talked about how I only have 54 days left in Ecuador. She told me to stop talking crazy because that is "altisimo tiempo," so much time, but then we talked about what would happen when I did go back. How often will we talk? When can either one of us come to visit the other? Getting a visa to the states is more difficult than prying a fat kid away from chocolate cake. And then I asked if she would come to say goodbye to me at the airport. She was almost offended that I would ask such a question because obviously she would be there. I told her that I will be "pura lagrimas" pure tears. She just shook her head and said "yo tambien" me too.
Then her eyes began to glisen and she said, "look, I'm already crying!" and began laughing. I told her I couldn't look at her because then I would start to cry and we would look like such fools sitting there at the ice cream stand sobbing. We then began to laugh so hard at ourselves that the sad tears tunred into happy ones. (wow, i can't believe i just wrote that cheesy ass line) It reminded me of crying at a Ruby Tuesdays with Kelly on our drive back to Chicago! Kelly you would love Cira.
I feel ready to leave Ecuador, but I am in no way ready to leave the realtionships I have made, especially Cira. But ya, no more sadness I'm going to focus on the positive and just live.
Love you all! Hope you enjoy the recent blog entries.
Cira has told me before that I am her first "gringa" friend, and it is for that reason that I believe we have developed such a strong relationship. I am not "volunteer Mary" I am Mary the volunteer and those are two totally different things. She is not friends with me because she is friends with Rostro, or because she lives across the street and feels obligated to host me, she doesn't benefit from our foundation in anyway. We became friends because we are cowokers, we are neighbors and we found something within each other that we like. I am going to say that my friendship with Cira and her family is the most sincere relationship I have here in Ecuador.
Cira and I have one thing in common, we are lloronas, or women who cry a lot. Today as she was selling ice cream during recess I sat at the stand with her and talked about how I only have 54 days left in Ecuador. She told me to stop talking crazy because that is "altisimo tiempo," so much time, but then we talked about what would happen when I did go back. How often will we talk? When can either one of us come to visit the other? Getting a visa to the states is more difficult than prying a fat kid away from chocolate cake. And then I asked if she would come to say goodbye to me at the airport. She was almost offended that I would ask such a question because obviously she would be there. I told her that I will be "pura lagrimas" pure tears. She just shook her head and said "yo tambien" me too.
Then her eyes began to glisen and she said, "look, I'm already crying!" and began laughing. I told her I couldn't look at her because then I would start to cry and we would look like such fools sitting there at the ice cream stand sobbing. We then began to laugh so hard at ourselves that the sad tears tunred into happy ones. (wow, i can't believe i just wrote that cheesy ass line) It reminded me of crying at a Ruby Tuesdays with Kelly on our drive back to Chicago! Kelly you would love Cira.
I feel ready to leave Ecuador, but I am in no way ready to leave the realtionships I have made, especially Cira. But ya, no more sadness I'm going to focus on the positive and just live.
Love you all! Hope you enjoy the recent blog entries.
They warned me about this
I remember hearing from former volunteers that blogs are great and all, but it becomes difficult to maintain them towards the end of the year. I didn't believe because I thought that I would always find the time to sit down and blog about all the goings on in my Ecuadorian life. Yes, well, I was wrong, surprise surprise. The end of the year here just seems to be stocked full of business from retreat groups, to meetings, work obligations and of course spending as much time as possible with those Ecuas we have grown so close to.
Well everyone I'm just going to say it, I'm BURNT OUT. I just don't have the energy anymore to balance my many different roles and responsabilites. I'm a full time high school English teacher, I'm a part time kindergarden teacher's assistant, I'm a retreat group leader, I'm a community memeber and then I'm a friend with limited time. So really....who am I supposed to BE? I am spread very thin and feel it taking a toll on me, mentally, physically and emotionally.
In other news, this past Friday I said good-bye to my last retreat group, the wonderful students from University of Scranton. We had a pretty shaky start as one by one 6 out of 14 retreatants found themselves sick, I mean stuff coming out both ends. Every morning when I would walk over to the house I was given another name of the latest victim of what we believe was a flu virus. There was a good amount of vomiting, including some that got on my leg and foot. But hey, it's all part of the package and I didn't mind it that much. My maternal instincts were definitly on high gear.
Spending time with them definitly revived my own desire for being down here. Now in the home stretch I find it so difficult to not think about the future too much. To not focuse on the unknown future that awaits me in Chicago. I have felt very removed from my life here in Duran. Not really spending much time with neighbors or community mates, but rather retreating to my room to journal or listen to music. I feel as if I have nothing more to give, I'm spent. But then came Scranton and I was reminded about one of my motivations for coming down: people. I just love people. I love meeting them, getting to know them, learning from them, and just plan talking to them. I love all people. I mean, don't get me wrong, there are a lot of people I have no patience for and there are others who I find myself being very skeptical and conscious of, but all in all, I just thrive off of person to person contact. I'm realizing it's a gift that not many people have.
It's funny because origionally I wasn't supposed to have this retreat group. They weren't even staying in our house. But I'm so greatful that I had them. It was a wonderful week. Challening and stressful, but worth it in the end.
Well everyone I'm just going to say it, I'm BURNT OUT. I just don't have the energy anymore to balance my many different roles and responsabilites. I'm a full time high school English teacher, I'm a part time kindergarden teacher's assistant, I'm a retreat group leader, I'm a community memeber and then I'm a friend with limited time. So really....who am I supposed to BE? I am spread very thin and feel it taking a toll on me, mentally, physically and emotionally.
In other news, this past Friday I said good-bye to my last retreat group, the wonderful students from University of Scranton. We had a pretty shaky start as one by one 6 out of 14 retreatants found themselves sick, I mean stuff coming out both ends. Every morning when I would walk over to the house I was given another name of the latest victim of what we believe was a flu virus. There was a good amount of vomiting, including some that got on my leg and foot. But hey, it's all part of the package and I didn't mind it that much. My maternal instincts were definitly on high gear.
Spending time with them definitly revived my own desire for being down here. Now in the home stretch I find it so difficult to not think about the future too much. To not focuse on the unknown future that awaits me in Chicago. I have felt very removed from my life here in Duran. Not really spending much time with neighbors or community mates, but rather retreating to my room to journal or listen to music. I feel as if I have nothing more to give, I'm spent. But then came Scranton and I was reminded about one of my motivations for coming down: people. I just love people. I love meeting them, getting to know them, learning from them, and just plan talking to them. I love all people. I mean, don't get me wrong, there are a lot of people I have no patience for and there are others who I find myself being very skeptical and conscious of, but all in all, I just thrive off of person to person contact. I'm realizing it's a gift that not many people have.
It's funny because origionally I wasn't supposed to have this retreat group. They weren't even staying in our house. But I'm so greatful that I had them. It was a wonderful week. Challening and stressful, but worth it in the end.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Dear Seniors
This is the second year that DePaul's Catholic Campus Ministry held a retreat for graduating seniors. Last year I was blessed to have gone on the retreat with some of my best friends and favorite DePaul staff. It was truly a beautiful experience full of love, support, laughter and sadness. While I felt it was a great way to end my time at DePaul it was bittersweet to know that the community I had fostered while there was disbanding and spreading throughout the country. Funny, but I find myself in the exact same position now.
I was asked by a Campus minister to write a reflection on my first year out of college by answering the question "How do you know you are a Vincentian in the world?" Big question, right? Well I took the time to think about it and I really felt like I wanted to share my reflection with you.
Note DePaul is a Vincentian univerisity meaning it is founded under the charism of St. Vincent de Paul who is a saint from 17th century Paris. He spent his life devoted to serving the poor and his mission is still strong today throughout many countries. The men religious are known as Vincentians and women are known as Daughters or Sisters of Charity. They are wonderful people. You should learn more if you don't know that much about them.
My dear seniors,
Almost a year out of college I find myself miles away from the comforts of family and home as a volunteer with the program Rostro de Cristo in Duran, Ecuador. There are days when I find it difficult to believe that this is where God has taken me, that Ecuador was apart of God's plan for me. It's truly amazing what happens when you can let go and realize that where you end up is where you were supposed to be. But perhaps like many of you I find myself coming to the end of a very beautiful experience without any clue as to what lies ahead. Sometimes the uncertainty can feel overwhelming but I have come to realize that it is the uncertainty of life that draws me closer to God.
So how do I know that I am a Vincentian in the real world? I don't. What I do know is that everything I do here in Ecuador is influenced by my DePaul education, but more importantly by my Vincentian education. Throughout my time at DePaul I grew to love St. Vincent and St. Louise. I studied their lives, I befriended members of the Vincentian family, I became involved with their mission. And what I took away from all of that is that at the heart of being a Vincentian is loving God, and through your love for God giving your life to others. Being a Vincentian means seeing the face of Christ in all whom you come into contact with, all whom you serve, all whom you love and hate. Vincent spent the second part of his life working to improve the living conditions of those who were deemed worthless and a burden on society. He first listened to the struggles of the people and then acted, he took the time to give voice to the voiceless and restore their human dignity.
So how could I even begin to talk about how am I living all that out? Well for starters I am with a program called the Face of Christ in which we strive to see the Face of Christ in the people we meet and work with here in Ecuador. I am living out my Vincentian roots because the most important thing to me are my real, meaningful relationships with the Ecuadorian people. Because I live a life giving of myself to others through giving them my time and attention, the most valuable things we have to give. I like to think that like St. Vincent, I am somehow giving a voice to the voiceless and understanding the true problems of poverty so that when I return to the states I can begin to work on fixing them. I am striving for systemic change, not a band-aid solution.
Seniors, this letter may be dense, and hard to hear. But know that within all of you is the desire to do good, to make a change, to love. My parting advice or words of encouragement are to love, love, love. Love God and through God love others.
Love,
mary
I was asked by a Campus minister to write a reflection on my first year out of college by answering the question "How do you know you are a Vincentian in the world?" Big question, right? Well I took the time to think about it and I really felt like I wanted to share my reflection with you.
Note DePaul is a Vincentian univerisity meaning it is founded under the charism of St. Vincent de Paul who is a saint from 17th century Paris. He spent his life devoted to serving the poor and his mission is still strong today throughout many countries. The men religious are known as Vincentians and women are known as Daughters or Sisters of Charity. They are wonderful people. You should learn more if you don't know that much about them.
My dear seniors,
Almost a year out of college I find myself miles away from the comforts of family and home as a volunteer with the program Rostro de Cristo in Duran, Ecuador. There are days when I find it difficult to believe that this is where God has taken me, that Ecuador was apart of God's plan for me. It's truly amazing what happens when you can let go and realize that where you end up is where you were supposed to be. But perhaps like many of you I find myself coming to the end of a very beautiful experience without any clue as to what lies ahead. Sometimes the uncertainty can feel overwhelming but I have come to realize that it is the uncertainty of life that draws me closer to God.
So how do I know that I am a Vincentian in the real world? I don't. What I do know is that everything I do here in Ecuador is influenced by my DePaul education, but more importantly by my Vincentian education. Throughout my time at DePaul I grew to love St. Vincent and St. Louise. I studied their lives, I befriended members of the Vincentian family, I became involved with their mission. And what I took away from all of that is that at the heart of being a Vincentian is loving God, and through your love for God giving your life to others. Being a Vincentian means seeing the face of Christ in all whom you come into contact with, all whom you serve, all whom you love and hate. Vincent spent the second part of his life working to improve the living conditions of those who were deemed worthless and a burden on society. He first listened to the struggles of the people and then acted, he took the time to give voice to the voiceless and restore their human dignity.
So how could I even begin to talk about how am I living all that out? Well for starters I am with a program called the Face of Christ in which we strive to see the Face of Christ in the people we meet and work with here in Ecuador. I am living out my Vincentian roots because the most important thing to me are my real, meaningful relationships with the Ecuadorian people. Because I live a life giving of myself to others through giving them my time and attention, the most valuable things we have to give. I like to think that like St. Vincent, I am somehow giving a voice to the voiceless and understanding the true problems of poverty so that when I return to the states I can begin to work on fixing them. I am striving for systemic change, not a band-aid solution.
Seniors, this letter may be dense, and hard to hear. But know that within all of you is the desire to do good, to make a change, to love. My parting advice or words of encouragement are to love, love, love. Love God and through God love others.
Love,
mary
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