My New Apartment

Many people have asked me to post pictures of my new apartment so here they are.  My roommate Catherine, is a Maryknoll Lay Missioner who arrived in Sao Paulo about a year and a half ago.

Dining Room/Living Room

Bathroom

Living Room/Dining Room

Kitchen/Laundry Room

Kitchen/Laundry Room

My Closet!!!

My Bedroom

The apartment is starting to come together. We still have a few more things to do but we now have cabinets and I have my room mostly set up.  It is starting to feel like a home.  After 8 months of moving around from place to place I am very grateful to have my own space.  It was a great experience getting to stay with the Maryknoll Community in Brazil, Brazilians and at language school.  But I am ready to unpack and be in one place for awhile.

Taking Things for Granted

So tonight I entered the bathroom and began to play the game Catherine and I do with the light switch.  We have 2 light switches but they don't turn on at first so we flip them both on and off about 10 times trying to get the right pattern and the right pressure to have the lights come on.  In one of the apartments I stayed in for a while it was a similar experience trying to turn on the lights in the bedroom and at times when cooking in the kitchen the lights would just go off.  It was really no big deal we would just wait for them to come back on which they would eventually do.

Tonight after I got the lights on I turned on the shower and waited for the warm water to come which it never did.  Eventually Catherine helped me turn a button on the shower head which made the water hot.  I did not know about that button and I stay away from touching the shower heads because with most of them you can be shocked if you touch them.  Ours does have the shock thing too but at least now I know about the button.  Also many showers do not have a shower box so the water goes all over the bathroom, after we are done with the shower we take a big squeegee and mop up the floors.

All of these things are just a normal part of life for many Brazilians.  For me, they just add to the adventure of living in another country.  However, this week I have been reflecting on the things I have taken for granted in my life in the U.S.  Lights and a warm shower are part of those things.  Also, a clothes dryer and perhaps one of the most important is heat.  I do miss being able to turn on the heat when I am cold. The houses don't have heat here.  I am going to buy a little heater but have not done so yet.

I started thinking about this topic last week when I was visiting the woman's prison.  We have a heath group with senior woman on Wednesdays.  As I sat in the circle of about 9 woman who are moms and grandmas I noticed they have such a desperation when it comes to their families.  Last Wednesday I listened to their stories and their desperate pleas for help and I thought about all that they have lost.  These woman have nothing and yet it is not the conditions they live in that they care most about it is their families.  I thought about the fact that when everything is stripped from a person what is the greatest need and desire, family.

I can understand this somewhat because there are times when I really miss my family and friends.  And yet my situation is different because I can skype or email or call my loved ones.  If necessary I could get on a plane and go home.  I have the freedom to make choices these woman do not.  And yet when I think about how my life will be different because of my choice to live as a missioner I believe that I may not take things for granted like I might have in the past.  Yes, water, lights, heat, peanut butter, those will all be things I will notice.  However, the most important thing I believe we should all not take for granted are our family and our friends.  Those people who stay with us in good times and bad and stand by us because they love us. I ask myself  if everything was strip away from me what would I miss the most...family.

Children of Poverty

She arrives early every week.  When I arrive she looks up to see if I notice her.  As I say her name she lets herself smile, but only a little.  She pretends to go back to sleep but I think she is watching everything that is happening.  We all move to a large, cold room with a table.  Seven other girls take their seats at the table.  The girls range in age from 14 to 20.  They all have unique qualities and personalities.  But they also have a few things in common.  The first is what they hold in their arms.  Each one cradles their baby.  And each one lives in poverty.  Poverty I don't know that I could ever imagine.

Today as I sat at the table I thought about all the teens I have worked with in the US.  I thought of how in so many ways these young ladies are similar to so many groups I have sat with for so many years.  And yet their lives are so different.  Today we did a tree of life where we placed our values, our abilities, our dreams, our desires and the names of those who support us.  This was like so many activities I have done in the past and yet the outcome was so different.

When it came to writing abilities a few of the girls said they had none.  They were not being modest, I think they really believe that have no abilities.  When it was time to write about the future the girls said I use to have dreams for the future but now I don't any.  I have a baby.  And when it came time for dreams the girls dreamed of having money, and one said I hope my baby has a house some day.  She was not hoping for a big fancy house she just wanted a house because she has none.  She bounces from place to place and she fears that the next time she has to leave the place she is now she will be on the streets.  She is 14, has a 3 month old baby, and is pregnant again.  Her mom is in prison and when she stays with her grandmother her uncle beats her.

These girls lives are full of violence, drugs (the girls don't necessarily do drugs but others in their life do), sex, and uncertainty.   The group they go to is an attempt to help them to see beyond their circumstances and dream of a different way of life.   Very difficult when you are 15 have a sick baby and are not sure where your next meal is coming from.  After the session the girls get something to eat.  As they ate I held one of their babies.  I held the 5 month old boy in my arms and I wondered what his life would be like.  Like his mother he is a child of poverty.

Poverty is dreaming of a house no matter what it looks like.

What's Next?

My first goal as a Maryknoll Lay Missioner is done.  I have finished language school.  I have a piece of paper that says I have been trained in Portuguese.  I am thinking about carrying it around with me so the next time someone does not understand what I am saying I can show them my certificate (the reality is that will be tomorrow when someone does not understand my Portuguese).

So what is next for me?  Right now I am in Joao Passoa, Brazil which is in the North.  We are visiting one of the Maryknoll Sister's home.  It is a wonderful home within walking distance to the beach.  It is winter now so it is not hot but it is warm.  Today we had a lot of clouds, nonetheless, it is wonderful to be here.  We will be taking a break after a lot of hard work this year and visiting the ministry of the Sisters.

On June 3rd I will return to Sao Paulo.  The plan for now is that we will continue our orientation by living with Brazilians, learning more about ministry opportunities, and working on our Portuguese.  One way that I will do this is by volunteering in a few ministries.  What we have planned now is that I will accompany a social worker who works with young, single mothers on Monday, on Wed I will visit the woman's Prison with another Lay Missioner to work with woman over the age of 55, and one other day a week I will visit a homeless center.

I am planning on living with another Lay Missioner.  We think we will find an apartment around August. Until then I will continue to move around to other Lay Missioner homes and live with Brazilians to understand the language and culture better.  I will not lie, moving a lot is a challenging experience but also a rewarding one.  The generosity of all those to open their homes to us is overwhelming.  I am grateful to all of those who offer me the gift of hospitality.

So that is what is next for me (at least today, things change from day to day but that is the plan for now). My next plan is to go to bed so I can be ready to go the beach at 6:30AM tomorrow.  I know some of you might have your mouths open right now because you cannot believe that I will be up that early.  But for the beach in Brazil I will get my......out of bed.  Boa Noite.

My fellow language school students from all over the world

How Many Pizza's Have I Ordered?

Tonight as I sat in a Mass celebrating 25years of religious life for one of the sisters here at language school I realized something.  It was my 25 year anniversary of ministry as well.  I was such a young woman (20) when I prayed that I would find a way to serve either in the church or with the poor.  All I can say is that God acted fast because the next Sunday was Pentecost and before I knew it I was given a card to fill out to volunteer.  I chose Youth Ministry honestly because I did not understand most of the other ministries and I thought I could serve cookies and chaperone a dance.  25 years later I find myself in Brazil.  All I can say is be careful what you wish for because it may just come true and then some.

As I reflect back on the years my heart is full.  So many people have touched my life in profound ways over the years.  I think of all the young people and their families, the staffs I have worked with, the parish communities of St. John the Apostle, Our Lady of the Lake, St. Pius X and St. Cecilia's,  and all of my fellow ministers and I am overwhelmed.

How many floors have I slept on?

I started to laugh when I thought about counting the number of meetings I have been too, the amount of chairs and tables that I have stacked and unstacked, the number of people who have thrown up on me (or worse), the number of hospital visits, the number of vans I have loaded, the number of times I have rolled up a sleeping bag, the number of bowls of punch I have made or most importantly how many pizza's and Costco cakes I have ordered.

These are the daily details of a minister but they are not the ones that stay with me.  I have been so graced to be welcomed into so many people's lives.  I have been blessed to witness the faith of young people come alive, I have seen first love blossom and heartache take it's place, together we have served in soup kitchens, homeless shelters, migrant camps, and in Mexico.  We have sang and danced, we have laughed and cried.  I walked with so many people suffering from life's challenges of depression, eating disorders, drug abuse, divorce, pregnancy, abuse, and sexuality.  I have welcomed new life with you and I have helped bury you and grieve with you.  Together we have walked the road of life and the road of faith with all of its joys and with all of its sorrow.

Tonight I am grateful for my years of ministry.  For all who have been a part of it.  For my friends and family who have supported me in the good and bad times.  At Mass this evening I thought about just reflecting on this moment and letting it quietly pass because I don't want any attention, I prefer to honor it in quiet ways.  But here I am writing about it.  The reason I chose to do that was to honor and thank all of you who have shared these years with me.  You have all brought me to this moment.  I never dreamed I would be in Brazil as a Maryknoll Missioner and yet here I am.  The past has given me strength to embrace my present and my future.

St. Pius X on Mexico Mission Trip

The Cry of the Poor

"The Lord Hears the Cry of the Poor, Blessed Be the Lord." (spiritandsong.com)
Today's Psalm is 34, it is the one I used for my sending Mass when I left Oregon.  Today I again find comfort and challenge in this scared scripture.
This week I have reached the half way point of language school.  Honestly, I really wish I had more command of the language at this point.  However, I know that I am in a better place with it than I was 1.5 months ago.  Today I was in a 3 hour lecture on church history in Brazil.  (I know right about now you are thinking how lucky I am).  Of course it was in Portuguese.  I understood 3/4 of the talk which I was happy with.  I am able to understand a lot more, however, I am still struggling with speaking.  I like to say I speak shopping.  Because I can go to the grocery store and get whatever I need.  Granted it is messy but I get it done.  

Today some one said to me that we should enjoy our time in language school because this might be the best time of our mission.  I totally disagree with this statement.  At this point I think this may be the hardest part for me.  Learning the language is challenging and humbling.  Many of the students reflect about how stupid they feel when trying to speak with Brazilians.  It is true I do feel stupid a good part of every day.  This person said we are lucky because we have a great room.  Which is true.  And I love, love, love, that Maria washes my sheets and towels every Friday.  But for me this time is not what it means for me to be a missioner. It is a necessary time for me to learn the language and the culture.  It is important for me because it gives me some of the tools to build my foundation as a missioner.  However, if I could I would run out the front door of the school and into the streets where the people I came to accompany live.

As I reflect on the words "The Lord hears the cry of the poor," I feel like I too have heard those cries.  In my work and ministry for the last 25 years I have listen to the stories of the poor.  I have seen their tears and felt their pain as well as their joy.   And it is those cries that have brought me to Brazil.  To do what, I still do not know but I long to be able to get started.  My heart's desire is to live out my vocation to journey in this life with the poor.

But for now I have to think about my own poverty.  My lack of control and power at this point in my life.  My dependence on others and a humbling of my heart.  I think about a child learning to ride a bike.  I remember my dad putting my training wheels on my bike.  Then having my parents holding on to the bike and running alongside me, until I was ready to go it on my own.  At this point in my journey as a missioner my training wheels are still being installed.  I have so many people that are working on running alongside me.  As much as I desire to take off and ride I am not ready yet.  I long to feel the wind in my hair as I peddle on my own, but for now I know I must embrace my journey.  I need to trust that I will get there, and appreciate all those around me who are cheering me on.  

I think the cry of the poor comes from each of us.   My poverty is no where near that of others.  And yet in my poverty and in my weakness I know that God listens to my heart.  He hears me and answers me. 

O Senhor ouve o grito dos pobres, bendito seja o Senhor.   

What matters is not how fast we go, only that we go.

Below is a link to the Psalm on spiritandsong.com.  It is a nice prayerful song.  I like the one by Jesse on Pray Your Heart.   If you have a chance listen to it, I find a lot of peace in the prayer.
The Cry of the Poor

Like A Child

Being a missioner in a new land and new culture transforms one into a child in so many ways.  In our orientation in New York my fellow missioners and I discussed the reality of this statement.  However, now that I am living this truth I find it both challenging and amusing.

To be like a child means to learn again how to eat, how to speak, how to read, how to walk, how to sleep, and how to go to the bathroom.  Yes, I have been working on all of these. If only I had a Dick & Jane book in Portuguese.  

Perhaps the hardest thing for me is the inability to communicate with others.  Imagine every time you need something you have to think about how to say the words to express yourself.  It is one thing to be in a restaurant and for the waiter not understand when I order a Coke Zero.  Really how wrong can my pronunciation be that I cannot be understood to order a Coke?   (No worries I have learned how to order it now, could not let too much time slip by on that one).   But imagine riding a bus and trying to ask for directions, and needing to go to the dentist (thank God my Maryknoll Family went with me), and now think about all the little things we need daily, like toilet paper.  It is humbling to have to think about how to ask for a roll, then most likely to have to explain it a couple of times (this is one that it is best not to explain with too many hand gestures).  I think about children who speak but cannot be understood.  I understand how frustrating that must be for them; at least I have Google translate. 

Communication seems to be a challenge in more ways than just a language.  In language school I live with religious men and woman from all over the world.  During the last week I have been in a couple of situations where it was clearly stated that woman in some countries are not equal to men.  Women are to do what the man says and not to have an opinion.  You can imagine how well that has gone over with me.  Most of you know I usually have an opinion and believe that people have the right to share their opinion as long as it is done so with respect.   I have been working to navigate these relationships where I feel like I am suppose to be lesser than the man, it is a bumpy road but I am working on it. In the US I have felt like I was treated as a lesser because I am not a man, but this is a whole different level.  I am trying to understand it as a learning experience because so many women in this world experience a world where their voices are not heard.   

The challenges at times can be overwhelming, however, the amusing part comes in discovering things again or for the first time.  New tastes, new smells, new ideas, and new places.  It is an amazing experience to achieve something for the first time, even if it is just riding the bus or figuring out how to use the phone.  Some day I am going to figure out how to mail a letter  Today I got a towel that had been in a dryer.  It was amazing.  Towels that dry on a clothes line just never seems to get completely dry.

To be a child is to be full of possibilities, it is to be open to discovering the world around you.  It is to fall and then get back up again.  It is to be humble, pure hearted, and to trust and rely on others.   It is not to be afraid to fail.  And so I try to put my pride on the self and to embrace my world as a child would.  I just hope I can set aside my pride, my fears, my embarrassment, in order to relearn how to live in the world.  This can be exhausting, I understand now why children take naps.  I need to start giving myself permission to do the same.