Desconectada (Disconnected)

Early last week, I was commenting to my roommate, Grace, that I felt like I was spending too much time on the computer - checking e-mail, looking at Facebook, trying to stay connected to my world back in the States. Don´t get me wrong, I think the modern convenience of technology is awesome. I am living in Peru, but I can keep updated on pretty much anything going on with my friends and family at home through a plethora of tools through the Internet. I can even talk to people for free while actually seeing them on my computer. But, one of my goals for my experience this summer is to spend more time in seeking God in prayer, in reading and in quietness. Another is to fully commit to the experience of being here and living in the community of San Juan. Both of these goals mean less time mindlessly poking around the Internet. Of course, in this age of super-technology, that is easier said than done.

I don´t know if God overheard my conversation with Grace (and if He agreed with my assessment of my overuse of time on the Internet), but on Thursday my computer crashed. "Crash" isn't the right word, because that would assume that it had turned on. But it didn´t. And in one split second, I felt completely cut off from my world. No e-mail, no Facebook, no Skype. Gone was my music, my documents, my pictures. How in the world can I be so dependent on technology that this felt like a monumental disaster in my life?

I have to admit, it was not a very good moment for me. Between allergies that just didn't want to go away, and then my computer that was muerta (dead), I felt completely disconnected. From life here, from life in the States, and I have to say, from God and this journey that I am travelling on. Feeling disconnected is not fun. For me, it is a mixture of feeling tired and lonely, but also guilty and challenged for feeling tired and lonely. Because, the truth is that I love everything that I am doing here in Lima. I work with a group (Peace and Hope) that is challenging and educating communities about different social issues in this society. In just a few weeks, I have: taught at seminars on Women´s Rights and Domestic Violence; shared bible lessons on our identity as children of God; translated for a seminar on investigation of child abuse cases; and played with street kids living in a center in my neighborhood. I have also met some tremendous Christian servants who live and love unconditionally in extremely poor areas in San Juan. In the midst of the struggles they face on a daily basis, how could I be reacting so strongly to something that definitely was not a crisis?

So I took a step back and asked God to reveal to me what he wanted me to see. In the midst of this "crisis" I was having, I decided to write down the blessings that were surrounding me. This was the list that I wrote in my journal:

• Karen, the secretary at our office, for calling her computer guy and bringing me to his shop.
• Anna, another friend at the central office, for getting me in touch with the computer techs there, and for letting me stay the night at her place on Thursday when they were still trying to fix my computer. (We had an awesome conversation!)
• Genaro, a colleague at our office, for being so concerned about this gringa that he took a taxi into the main office with me (over an hour away!)
• Arturo, who tirelessly worked on fixing my computer Thursday night and then all day Friday as it crashed again.
• Jaime and Anna for introducing me to Sanwichon - a huge Peruvian style sandwich.

I realized that I was never truly disconnected. God has always been faithful in providing people that care for me wherever I am in the world. Sometimes, it is difficult to remember that in the midst of challenging circumstances. But although we may feel disconnected, God never disconnects from us. Maybe He uses those moments that we feel disconnected to help us focus on other things He is doing in our lives.

True to his faithful nature, God gave me a great weekend of fellowship. I was able to let out some frustration from the end of the week during a conversation with my roommate. On Saturday, I had a great time playing with a group of street kids living at a home near my house. That night, I was able to talk to and play volleyball with some teenagers in another community. As for my computer, it is up and functioning. And with its new Peruvian programs, it is now bilingual...which makes me smile:)

Welcome to My Neighborhood

“It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor,

Would you be mine? Could you be mine? Won’t you be my neighbor?”

Mr. Rogers

I have many more stories to share with you about people I have met over the last two weeks in Lima. However, I realized that I haven’t properly introduced you to my neighborhood where I am living and working. Welcome to San Juan de Lurigancho! San Juan de Lurigancho is the largest district in Lima; in fact, many believe that it is so large that it should actually be its own city. There are more than 1 million people that live in this district alone.

The history of San Juan is very interesting because it is directly connected to the recent history of Peru. From 1980 until 2000, the country of Peru was immersed in what it calls “el conflict interno armado” or the internal armed conflict. For twenty years, a guerrilla movement called El Sendero Luminoso (The Shining Path) fought a violent war against the government. As always, those that were caught in the middle were the citizens of Peru, specifically those living in the provinces of the country (meaning all of the areas outside of Lima). It is estimated that over 70,000 people were killed both from the terrorism of The Shining Path and the repercussions from the government as they tried to combat the terrorism.

The daily fear of living in this internal armed conflict caused many people living in the provinces of Peru to migrate closer to Lima. Today, more than 1/3 of the population of Peru lives in the capital. Along with the flight for safety that occurred during this period, there is also the draw of the “big city” for those living outside in the provinces. Some call this the “push-pull factor.” Citizens believe that Lima can provide them with basic needs like housing, education and health care (pull) while in the provinces they may be suffering from the effects of poverty, terrorism, lack of resources, or a bad crop season (pull). The pull factor seems particularly strong in Peru because everything is centralized in Lima rather than being decentralized throughout the different provinces of the country.

As people came looking for safety or for a new life, the periphery of Lima began to grow outwards. The way that communities began to appear happened in levels. First, a group of people would get together and set up “invasiones.” They would literally invade a piece of land and establish a presence there by setting up basic shelter. Members of the group would take turns keeping watch at night and over the next days and months they would begin to level out the land and build on it. They would build their houses first out of estera (a thatched material), then thin wood, and then brick. Once the “invasiones” grew, they would eventually get basic services like electricity, running water, and paved roads. At this point, the invasiones become known as “asentamientos humanos” – human settlements. As these settlements become more organized and form local leadership, they are then called “urbanizaciones,” or urbanizations.

This is how my community, San Juan de Lurigancho was formed. I live in an urbanization called San Rafael that is about an hour and 15 minutes outside of the center of Lima. In our apartment, we have electricity and running water (lukewarm in the shower because we have an electric contraption hooked up to it). Some of the roads are paved in our neighborhood and some are still dirt. Up the road about 15 minutes from me is a town called Mariategui which just received running water and electricity a year ago. At the edge of Mariategui, the cerro (hill) begins. The closer one is to the hill, the greater the poverty you encounter.

Interestingly, in our community, we are witnessing the first-hand effects of globalization. A large Chilean supermarket called Metro is building a store on the corner of our street. Metro is one of those huge, mega-supermarkets that has everything…food, clothes, appliances, etc. You name it and they have it. It is like a huge Target and Stop & Shop in one big store. Within the two weeks that I have been in San Juan, the area where this supermarket is being built has been transformed: Dirt roads have been paved. The busy street that people daily risk their lives trying to cross now has a crosswalk, a stoplight and crossing guards. New bus-stops were put in. These are all the structural benefits of a large store like Metro making its way to our neighborhood.

However, on the other side of the street, you see the row of local vendors that sell fruit, pastries and other commodities. I can’t help but wonder what the other effects of these improvements are going to be. How many of these vendors will lose business and income because of one-stop shopping at Metro? Are the days of fresh fruit and fresh bread on the way home from work soon going to disappear? I wonder if the gain will outweigh the cost in this community.

I struggle with what to do with things like internal civil war, terrorism, extreme poverty, and globalization. They all seem so interconnected; they all seem to be driven by supernatural forces of their own. It is overwhelming to think about what I am called to do as a citizen of this world, and as a child of God, with issues that are so big. I believe this is part of the reason that I am here, living in San Juan and working with Peace and Hope, a Christian NGO that is deeply involved within these communities and these issues. I realize more and more how I have come here to be a learner…and I’m excited to be a part of this adventure with God, with this organization and with these people.

The Peruvian Drive-Through

Considering that most Peruvians don’t own their own cars but rely on public transportation, the title of this post might be a little misleading. Let me explain to you what the Peruvian drive-through looks like. Every morning, I am awakened by the sound of peddlars driving down our street selling their goods. Each horn represents a different good for sale. The bread man has a different horn than the churros man (who actually uses a loud speaker to let everyone know that the “rico churros” have arrived.) To me, these sounds just represent a hindrance to more sleep, so I couldn’t imagine that anybody in their right mind would get up and go outside to go buy bread in the early morning hours. Apparently, my neighbors can’t be bothered to get up and go down to buy anything either. One day, as I was leaving the house, I saw one of the bread vendors stopped. He was yelling to our neighbors upstairs as the transaction took place. I waited to see someone come out our front door. Instead, directly in front of my face appeared a plastic bag that was being lowered down from the third story window. The bread boy reached in, took out a few soles from the bag, and then put in some fresh bread. The bag then quickly disappeared back to where it came from. So, while Peruvians might not have cars to go to the drive through, the drive-through comes to them. I guess convenience is sought and appreciated in any culture!

The Three Amigos

Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them. Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." When he had placed his hands on them, he went on from there.
(Matthew 19:13-15)

Last night, I stayed in an apartment in a different part of Lima….a barrio that is socially and economically of a higher standard of living than San Juan de Lurigancho where I am living and working. I have to admit, it was like a retreat. I have only been living in San Juan for a week and a half, so I didn’t realize that the change of scenery would make such an impact on me. But it did. My bed is comfortable in San Juan, but this bed felt like heaven. The shower was hot and had strong, glorious water pressure, unlike ours that is lukewarm and trickles. I didn’t feel as conspicuous or alert walking on the street as I do in San Juan. People didn’t seem to stare at this gringa with blonde hair as much for some reason.

But, to be honest, I don’t notice these differences when I am living in San Juan. I simply live life and feel privileged to have a shower and a bed when others just a few minutes away often go without. So then, I have to ask myself, was the difference really the bed, the shower and the people, or was it the feeling of being back in “my element” in a socioeconomic sphere that I know so well? It’s easy to be in a place that makes me comfortable, where I “fit in.” But I don’t think that “fitting in” is necessarily where God calls me to be most of the time. I don’t think Jesus “fit in” to his time and culture. He was a revolutionary if there ever was one in Ancient Israel. And the people he ministered to sure didn’t fit in either. If there was ever a rag-tag group of people, it was those that Jesus sought out. They were the prostitutes, the crippled, the lepers, the adulterers, the tax collectors….even the dead (the sermon was on Lazarus today!). Jesus ministered to a beautiful rainbow of people who were not perfect and often were not accepted as full members of society.

In this rainbow of different people, one of the groups Jesus most loved was children. Children were not often valued in Ancient Israel. Many of my professors have often commented that to gain respect in traditional societies, both ancient and modern, gray hair is the key! The more years you bring with you, the more people tend to respect you. So in terms of age, children were not respected. In the passage above, when the children came to Jesus, the disciples rebuked those that brought them. But Jesus said to the disciples, “Let them come…the kingdom belongs to ones like these.” Why does the Kingdom belong to those who are like children? Is it because they see things that adults don’t see, through their innocence and their unhardened hearts? Is it because children are willing to give of themselves passionately and live with childlike wonder?

If innocence and childlike wonder are the reasons, then what do Kingdom-builders, those of us who seek real biblical transformation in our world, do with children who have been robbed of that innocence and childlike wonder? On my way home, three young street boys got on our bus. One of them began to play an instrument, which upon closer inspection turned out to be an old ridged aluminum can and a hair pick. (I guess imagination is something that ALL children have in common.) These three amigos then began to sing a repertoire of songs which no doubt they had sung on many days on many buses as they worked for a few soles (Peruvian money). The youngest one could not have been more than 5 or 6 years old. At hearing them begin to singing, I smiled because, after all, who doesn’t like listening to children sing? But as the littlest amigo turned around to look at me, I smiled at him….and his reaction was blank. No smile, no frown, no words of rebuke. There was no joy, but no pain either. It was almost as if he were numb. A friend said to me this morning, when one stops feeling anything at all, that person has reached the darkest place. This young child had a face that seemed almost empty. My smile turned to a frown and as I thought about this young boy, his life and the things he has been robbed of as a child living in poverty on the street. What must his life be like? What experiences have taken his smile, his joy, and even his pain away?

When we live in a world, where children are not allowed to be innocent and they are not allowed to see things with childlike wonder, how can we be living in a world where the Kingdom of God is theirs? Where does this little boy see the Kingdom of God? Where is Jesus for him? Praise God that there are many people who work with street kids in Lima and all over the world. But my desire is that the church, that Kingdom workers all over the world, take seriously Jesus’ desire that his Kingdom come and his will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

In less than a twenty-four hour period, I started off praising God for my unexpected retreat from San Juan. It was a welcomed break and something that I think is necessary, especially for those working among the poor long-term. However, at the end of this adventure, I praise God for not letting me be comfortable in my life all the time. He continues to stretch me and ask me to do things and go places that I never thought I would go and do. My continual prayer is that God would show me the world through Kingdom eyes…the world as He sees it. Thank you Lord, for being faithful!

Prayer request: Please pray for these three young boys and for the many other street kids that live in Lima. Pray that somebody would be the hands and feet of Jesus in their lives. Pray that they would be able to experience life as children, that innocence and childlike wonder would be restored to them.

A Servant Named Gigi

There are so many things that I want to tell you about as I write this first update with less than a week of time actually being in Peru. It amazes me how much I have experienced in only five days in this new country. I could tell you about the city of Lima, about its tremendous size and impossible bus system that doesn’t have any rhyme or reason to it. I could tell you about my orientation with Paz y Esperanza, the organization I will be working with this summer. I could tell you about talking to people on the streets of Lima about International Environmental Day in a city that is extremely affected by air pollution. There are so many things I could tell you about, but I want to tell you about a young Peruvian woman whom I have never met. Her name is Gigi.

I arrived in San Juan de Lurigancho on Thursday morning to a new apartment and a new roommate, Grace. Grace is from California and has been living and working in this community for a year and a half. She has an incredible smile and a great personality. We have a lot in common and spent the first half of the day drinking coffee and talking (two of my very favorite love languages!!) Grace had just heard the news that a young woman whom she had been in ministry with, Gigi, had passed away earlier that morning from leukemia. As Grace told me about her friend, Gigi, little did I know that this young woman whom I had never met would be a huge part of my first week in Lima.

Grace attended Gigi’s viewing and funeral on Thursday. On Friday, I accompanied Grace to a “pollada” in Gigi’s name. A pollada is a type of fundraiser where chicken (pollo in Spanish) dinners are sold. The ministry where Gigi volunteered was having a pollada to raise money for the funeral and hospital costs that the family needed to pay off. Grace and I picked up Gigi’s family to take them to the pollada as it was the first time they had gone to the ministry where Gigi volunteered. I sat next to Gigi’s mother on the crowded bus. Gigi had just passed away a couple of days earlier and her mother was suffering deeply. She began to talk to me about her daughter – about her dreams, her life and her death. I was so privileged and blessed to hear about this amazing woman of only 31 years of age. I was also blessed to be able to cry with her mother as she shared her pain and her heartache. It was a precious moment for me, one that I will never forget.

Gigi was a true servant of God. Her family comes from a poor area of Lima also in San Juan de Lurigancho where I am currently living. But, although living in a poor area, Gigi never liked her family to say that they didn’t have things. Gigi would always tell her mother, “We have a family, we have a home. I have a mother, a father and a brother. We don’t have nothing. We have a lot.” And what she had, Gigi wanted to share with others. She spent her time teaching young kids and loving her neighbors. She volunteered in an even poorer part of Lima, ministering to young children living in extreme poverty. These young children that Gigi loved and nurtured were the ones who prepared the pollada in her name.

One by one these incredible children stood up to testify to Gigi’s life, talking about what Gigi had taught them and how much she had loved them. The first young boy that stood up was named Marco. You could tell by looking at Marco that he has a difficult life. Marco stood up and said, “Gigi taught me a lot. Gigi helped me a lot.” And then his lip began to tremble. And his eyes watered up. His body began to shake. He couldn’t say any more. Marco was too overcome with emotion to finish. You see, Marco lives up in the hills of Lima in extreme poverty. He comes from an abusive home and is a target for not only his parents, but his older siblings as well. With Gigi, he found love and compassion. He found someone who loved him like a child should be loved. She was like an earthly angel for this little boy. She was Christ’s hands and feet caring for him. And Marco was not the only child that Gigi touched. One after one they stood giving testimonies about Gigi.

So this is what I learned from a young Peruvian woman that I have never met. I want to be a sold-out servant of God for whatever time I have on this earth. I want to practice a ministry of presence wherever I am. I want to show people Christ through genuine love and compassion. I want God’s love to pour so strongly from inside of me that people can sense His presence always. I want to love my family. I want to love my friends. I want to love the people that many would say are unlovable. I want to live simply and love fully. And when my time comes to be in the presence of the Lord, I hope that people will say that they saw the love and the compassion of Christ in me…just like Gigi, a servant of servants in the Kingdom of God.