Opportunity for Grace

It's the first day of class. My students come in and I invite them to sit with me in a circle on one side of the room. The other side, with the table and materials for the project of the day, must wait until later. Before anything else, we must begin with each other.

After welcoming them, and introducing briefly the class, we really begin, with what is maybe the most important work we will do in the class for the cycle. Taking yarn, and wrapping it twice around my wrist I introduce myself: my name and some thing I like. I toss the yarn across the circle and invite this first student to do the same. Sometimes as the students throw the yarn, the throw it too hard, or not hard enough, and doesn't make it to the student on the other side. We all laugh as it is retrieved, and this too is good. Finally, we are all connected.

"On the count of three" I say "Everyone stand up and put your hands HIGH in the air!"
We do.

"On the count of three, everyone, touch the floor"

"Now... if your name starts with a vowel reach into the air way high. If not, keep yours hands on the floor."

"Switch!"

"Ok, everyone touch the floor. And one person reach way high up.
When you feel tension, stand up with your hands way high too."

And we all stand.

"Ok, one person touch the floor, and when you feel the pull touch the floor, too."

Sitting back down, still connected, I ask, "What did you notice?" "We made a star with the yarn!" I usually hear. "Yes, I saw that too, what else? ... when was there the most tension?" We identify that there was more tension when we did different things and less tension when we worked together.

"And what about when only one person stood up?" ... "We all hand to stand up!"

And so we discover that we are all connected. That it's good to work together. And that what one person does affects everyone else, for good or for bad.

This is my favorite way to start every class -- be it an English class, Cuentame, or Peace Train construction. It expresses a deep truth in a tangible way -- a way that stays with me as at the end of the activity, as I cut the students free, I invite them to ask a friend to help them tie a knot in the yarn around their wrist, to wear as a bracelet reminder. I am wearing three of these bracelets now, reminders of my students, reminders that we don't walk alone. It makes me think of one of my favorite quotes:

"if you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. If you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine then let us work together."

It is only when we allow ourselves to be bound to each other that we can be free.

It is a wise game I think, one that continues to remind me not to feel "irrevocable responsible for everything ..." (that's God's job, I've heard). To step back, see the bigger picture, and take the long view.

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying
that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation
in realizing that. This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well. It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
Amen.

-Monseñor Romero

The Peace Train is coming to Centro Arte!

(I recommend listening to Cat Steven's Peace Train while reading this one :)

Not only is the Peace Train coming ... we are building it, here at Centro Arte. As Peace, though it must start within each individual, must be a community endeavor, we are building it as a community.

So, some shout outs to the team!
Berty and Yanira of our CAP office team thought of the plan of using plywood to build the "bones" of the trains and the use colored poster board for the sides.

Lito, vigilante extrodinaire got us the nails.

And Manuel, a twenty something youth in the community, and Jose Walter, the 11 year old magician from my Cuentame class, did the actually construction (Korla and I got to help as well).

Our construction team started by creating a contract. Walter said paying attention and following directions would be important. Manuel agreed. I added wearing safety goggles was important. And Korla later added putting cotton in our ears to protect from the sound of the table saw. We all signed and set about collecting our materials and setting up our space.



Manuel did all the math for us and was our expert in residence. He got the table saw set up and directed Walter, Korla and I where to be and how to help. Manuel is a very focused, get the job done kind of guy. Though his signature "this is fun" / "i'm so cool" kind of face was to smile and stick out his tongue -- a face I never saw so much as when we were constructing. Walter on the other hand is a bounce off the wall I have so much energy I can't be in one place for more than 5 minutes kind of 11 year old. The two of them working together was priceless. And Walter, when he had a job and something to do with his hands was as focused as ever!





In three days we built 12 train cars! One train of 6 big cars (50 cm x 50 cm x 75 cm) will live at Centro Arte and a second train of small cars (40 cm x 40 cm x 60 cm) will travel to the school in El Sitio and any other site that asks us to come! (We've already been requested to visit another group!!)





Next, Korla and I went to the libreria or the book store and picked up the poster board for the sides. Raquel and Ligia joined me one afternoon cutting them into the right sizes:



Finally, this past Saturday afternoon we had a train decorating workshop! Walter, Geremy, and Victor joined Korla, Ariel and me to 1. braid cloth from the Women's Center down the street (who also want to see the train when it's done!) to make the shoulder straps. 2. Use the left over poster board to make the engine of the 1st car and 3. Decorate the sides. What a wonderful life - giving morning.











We had started the day making a web of yarn between our wrists and talking about how we are all connected and to make peace (and the train!) we needed to work together. Then we learned a song: "Caminamos en la paz de dios" ("Walking in the peace of God" ... originally "Walking in the light of God". We ended the day with presentations of what we had done so far and how it had brought us peace and singing and marching en train around the room!



Today Walter came to talk with me about the next Cuentame class I'm giving -- he took it last time but he wants to write another chapter -- a manual of magic tricks. So we had a brief meeting and then we worked on braiding the shoulder straps. At first I sat next to him, each of us with our 200 cm pieces of fabric and we would do each step together but he got lost. So then we did it together -- I held it on the floor and he braided. He did so well! And got very into it!



The Peace Train, even in the making (yay process!) has been so life giving to me. There is so much do to here, so many ways I want to give of myself, that sometimes it is overwhelming. In the making of the train and all of the people who are already part of it, I am reminded I don't have to walk alone, I don't have to carry all that is weighty alone. We do it together. We built peace together. And we give life to one another.

PS ... my address

So I realized I've not put my address here yet. So here it is!

And if you would like a letter or post card from here, comment or email me your address :)

CAP
2a Calle Poniente #5, Barrio San Jose Suchitoto
El Salvador, C.A.

Coming Home

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers this past month. It has meant so much, made such a difference. I was so glad of your support, so glad to be with family during a time of such sadness amidst a season of such celebration.

And now I am back. I've been blessed to have friends and family who have taught me that one can have many homes. As I've returned, I've recognized once again that Suchitoto is one of my homes.

As with all homes, there are things that are easy and others that are difficult, there is joy and sadness, but we help each other along. The other volunteers here are amazing beyond words, and in this first week back I have already been inspired by them, and humbled, to see the work they are doing with such love, with such self-gift, amidst circumstances that can be shaking and challenging. There actions, there presence is calling me forth from myself, to give and be present and love and not preoccupy myself with the self-guilt or pressure which I can tend to. They make this place home.

The Salvadorans here, too, make this place my home. Walking through the plaza this morning, a young boy called my name and come over and said hello. On a walk this morning, a man on a horse walked is horse at my speed for several minutes and talked as we journeyed toward el centro. Minutes before, a pick up whizzing by had stopped to offer my a ride up the hill. One of my students -- one of those students who has stolen my heart -- came by yesterday asking when our classes would be starting again, and then hung out with me while I watched the skate park. One of my friends who runs a tienda near by kept hugging and hugging me when she I visited to let her know I was back, as glad to see me I was her. Eva, the woman I live with, too. They make this place home.

This country makes itself my home -- the smell of the air, the heat of the day (sometimes scorching), the coolness of the night, the beans with every meal, the green and now brown country side, the breezes.

And I make this my home. Alex, one of my fellow volunteers, sent out an email over Christmas with the phrase "as we plan for the new year in Suchitot, we all know now what we need to feed us..." what we need to make this place home. So I've been going for walks in the morning, taking in the beauty of the countryside, the lake, my neighbors. Mother Theresa says "The fruit of silence is prayer. The fruit of prayer is faith. The fruit of faith is love. The fruit of love is service. The fruit of service is peace." So I am grounding each day in the silence which is the breath of life.

December

Dear Friends,

I am writing to you all with sad news. This past December 10, my grandfather passed away. I had been able to return to Colorado about a week earlier, having heard he was in very poor health and getting worse. It was a privilege to spend that last week with my grandfather. At times his eyes would sparkle and he would smile, just as he always did when I was growing up. He would look at my grandmother and say "Oh look how beautiful she is." or "Oh, I love you." I had the blessing to help to take care of him even as, once again, he took care of me, helping me begin to find some important questions.

I don't know if I know what the questions are yet. But I am so aware of them. And all I can do is cry Amen and Alleluia because God is and He was there.

He was there in the organizing of plane tickets -- originally my whole family was going to visit El Salvador for Christmas, but gracias a dios we were all here.

He was there in the love my grandparents had for each other -- in there 60 years of marriage and particularly this past week.

He was there in the way my family came together

He was there the three nights before my grandfather died when he got out of bed for the first time in months and sat in a chair for an hour and a half chatted with us, blues eyes snapping and smiling, and even walked a few steps

He was there in my grandfathers strength of spirit character and love to the very end.

He was there at the funeral when the servicemen presented my grandmother with a flag, something that touched her so deeply that she remembers it even in the midst of Alzheimer's.

He is here now with each of us as we mourn and grieve and keep loving and laughing. Asking questions and looking towards the future with hope.

I will return to El Salvador at the beginning of the New Year, renewed in life from the testament of my grandfather, discovering the questions

Peace Train!

So some exciting news!

As many of you know, my thesis last year was creating a Peace Education class for children in El Salvador. This January, my class will start!

It is amazing to see things start to pull together. So December (in addition to watching over the skate park and "Historical Memory" Museum and teaching an English class) my job is to get everything ready to go!

There are three parts to this preparation:

1. Review my thesis and the foundation (pedagogical and contextual foundations I already have) and pull together the units and day to day lesson plan, as well as all of the materials!

2. have weekly (or twice weekly) meetings with my equipo -- my team. I am asking five or six 7th 8th or 9th graders to be my helpers. They will each have two or three 1st or 2nd graders that they will mentor through the class. So, we will be meeting and talking about peace and why it's important. we'll go over the peace train problem solving steps. some of the other volunteers and i will likely do skits and they'll have to use the train to resolve the conflict. sweet!

3. build the peace train! out of wood! There's a young man here who knows about constructing things, so he is team leader/manager of the train constructing project. I asked him is he would work with a couple elementary school kids and he said yes but that he would also need one more big person. SO! There's a team of 4 who will be building the 6-car peace train.

I am so excited! And so can't hardly know where to begin! I'll be in Connecticut for Thanksgiving and am planning on moving into Barnes and Noble and finding pictures books of Peace Makers to read -- quizas in Spanish, but if not I guess I'll translate.

I have to talk to Peggy and figure out special guest peace makers from the community to invite in, as well as decide what our first "project" will be. The converting of my thesis from the theoretical to the actual!

Sketches and Reflections

It's been a week of many goings-on. My story class only has two pages left to illustrate. Last weekend was the anniversary of the Massacre in Copapayo and this weekend is the anniversary of the 6 Jesuits who were killed at the UCA 31 years ago. A week ago to the day was the Day of the Dead. It's been a week of challenges, as I learn again how to live here and how to live into myself (my created self!) and recognize and acknowledge that createdness in those around. It's been a week of hard work (and rewarding!); a week of, very literally, life and death.

And so in the midst of this, I've felt this desire to draw, to create myself something beautiful and to, through pictures, somehow express the mezcla of everything, when the words escape me or just aren't enough. It has been a way to prayer.



This first is a drawing of the cemetery where Eva's mother's family -- parents and siblings -- are buried. The tradition here is on the day of the dead, every one decorates the graves of loved ones with flowers. More than anything else, this day was a day of celebration: of the lives of the ones gone, of the family coming together to remember them. We drove an hour and half to arrive at the cemetery -- a road that Eva told me they used to walk three hours when she was growing up. We drove through Cinquera and the tone of the day was sent. The park outside of the church of Cinquera has the tail of a bomber plane on a concrete pillar. It the fence around it, sawed-broken guns are attached; a promise to never forget the war. The church bells are three bombs (duds). Hit with a rock, the make a beautiful ringing sound. What a powerful symbol: this transformation of objects of destruction to calls to worship. From death to life. The line, it turns out, is very fine indeed.
From Cinquera we continued on and came to the cemetery. The whole family was already there and we spend the morning decorated the crosses, surrounded by these luscious green plants. (In the drawing if you look closely you can see 8 crosses, in two lines of 4, among the green plants to the left of the big tomb adorned with floods of flowers). When it was time to go, Eva's mom said "Good bye until next year, and if we cannot come, others will."



This image is one that has been developing and growing in levels over the past several years. In the center is a heart - jar. By which I mean it is at once a heart and a funny shaped clay jar. The aorta and vena cava form the mouth of it and water is being poured in. Yet it is a broken jar, wounded. And through the brokenness the water is flowing out. I remind myself that it is often through my own hurts and brokenness that I can be a vessel of God; and my prayer that God's love and grace may be poured through me (because my love on its own can be so small) and that even my failures, imperfections, and wounds may be ways through which that love may be shared.



Finally. This one I painted last night in my house -- the only paint brush I brought with me is one from my Taiwanese friends I met during World Youth Day in Sydney, used to write characters. So, in this one I was going for a some what Oriental style. Yesterday was a hard day in my house. Eva and Rosa had had terrible days at school among other things --everything hard at once. I think perhaps this picture is wiser than I am, so I can do nothing more than tell you what I see and perhaps you, my friends family and supporters, could let me know as well what you think and see:

On the right there is a cross with a vine bearing fruit growing up it. On the cross is a small person picking the fruit and giving it to the big person on the ground, putting it in the basket. To me, I think of how connected life and death are, the fruit that is born amdist suffering and death, the necessity of working together to have this life-giving fruit -- the big one needs the little one, clearly, but the little one will need the big one for help to get down. There is life even in death