Asi es la vida
Asi es la vida. (Such is life). I heard this phrase many times throughout my first day at Hogar Ambrustar (the nursing home where I will be working for the next year) and thus found it an appropriate title for this new blog. During the first four days in Jose C. Paz, I have experienced and witnessed lots of “Asi es la vida” moments.
Some of the funnier “asi es la vida” moments have happened throughout the last few days as I have learned the ins and outs of my new home. My second night here I was unable to sleep and at 1:30 AM decided to heat up some milk to curb my growling stomach and hopefully get some sleep. I lit the stove and poured a large amount of milk into a small pan. I reached to grab the pan when the milk was heated and ended up spilling milk all over my already wet concrete floor (it was recently constructed and is still drying) , the wooden boards that my stove sits on, and my box of matches (thus ruining the matches). So at about 1:45 AM I was on the floor trying to clean up the milk I spilt with the one towel I had. They say there’s no use crying over spilt milk…so I laughed…and after all of that, I was finally able to fall asleep. Asi es la vida.
The next day I decided to explore the city on my own. I took a bus down town and arrived feeling pretty good about myself that I had taken the correct bus and got off at the plaza. My trip home was a little more eventful. I thought I had taken the right bus, and even asked the bus driver …I didn’t really understand his response so I just smiled and nodded and sat down. About 5 min into the trip I realized we were not going toward my house and I soon found myself on a dirt (mud) road in one of the barrios of Jose C. Paz. I asked the bus driver again if he passed by my house and again pretended to understand what he said. Eventually he told me to get off and catch another number to get home… I did understand him this time and was able to get back safely. Yet another humbling experience to let me know that I need to rely on others for something as simple as trying to get home. Asi es la vida.
Last night I again found myself unable to sleep and decided to eat some yogurt. I went to the refrigerator and pulled out my large bag of yogurt (yes, bag of yogurt) and had a sip (right out the bag!!) before going back to bed. I went to put the yogurt away and dropped the bag…all. over. the . floor. So yet again I found myself cleaning up a dairy product with the same rag as the milk off my already damp concrete floor. This time there were a few tears before the laughter. Asi es la vida.
I spent the majority of the weekend at the community center in Barrio Providencia, where I will be working for the next year. My first experiences with the community were filled with “asi es la vida” moments in the sense that what I was seeing and experiencing is reality for so many people. In reaction to these experiences, I say “asi es la vida” not with indifference but with a sense of reality and an urgency for change. My first experience with Barrio Providencia was on Friday evening through an intercambio project where kids from the local private school came to the barrio and ideally interacted and worked as a team with the kids from the barrio to organize the library in the community center. The key to this activity was to get youth of the same age with different backgrounds to work together and build commonalities. Omar (Rosy’s brother, also involved with Providencia) spoke to the youth about working together and building community before they got to work. When they finally started working, there was not much interaction between the two groups. Hopefully with time they will build community and learn that everyone has something to learn as well as something to teach. Asi es la vida.
Friday evening I returned with Omar to the community center to watch kids of all ages practice the Murga, a dance common in South America which exposes the injustices within society while carrying a sense of hope. I plan to go into more detail about this in my September newsletter, but WOW pretty much sums it up! The only instruments used in the dance are drums which carry a solid and loud beat that even I can clap to on rhythm. The dance has a beginning, middle, and end which includes singing, skits, and improv. I can’t wait to write more about this in the September newsletter. Anyways, it was awesome to watch the practice come together. Kids would show up at the door, grab a cookie to eat, and jump in to the dance. The community center is mostly run by young adults between the ages of 18 and 24. None of them are paid yet they give up a huge chunk of their time to make sure everything runs smoothly. Towards the end, one of the kids came over and grabbed my hand to join in. I was invited to express a reality through dance that I had never lived. It was surreal to watch a community of young people come together and dance a dance of justice and hope. Asi es la vida.
On Saturday I returned to the community center to help set up for el Dia del nino…a day reserved especially for kids. About 15 of us spent the next few hours hanging up decorations, filling balloons, setting up games, filling goodie bags, and getting the music ready. Kids from all directions started to show up once the music started blasting through the speakers. In the end there were about 150 kids and youth participating in the day’s activities. I have a TON of images from this day in my mind, but I’ll just share a few so you won’t have to read a whole novel. I worked the games throughout the day and was reminded of the fact that the kids in this neighborhood…although older than their years in many aspects, were still kids. They loved playing the various games and their excitement was contagious. After the games, we passed out cookies and milk. Many of the kids took handfuls of cookies and quickly inhaled what they had…this is when I was reminded that they face the reality of hunger every day and have developed a sense of survival. The milk that was not consumed was poured back into the pitchers for later use and the plastic cups were saved to be reused. A bit later I was asked by two girls to play tag. Through this I was reminded that we all play in the same language. A boy about 10 years old brought his sister to come and play with us; but before he let go of her hand he looked at me with solemn eyes and told me to take care of her. I was touched by the love and seriousness expressed from this young boy as he asked me to take care of his baby sister. Asi es la vida.
After a long and busy day at the community center, I went to a birthday party with Omar and his family. In Argentina, when a girl turns 15, the family throws a huge party complete with dinner, a DJ, fancy dresses, and dancing. Omar picked me up at 10pm and shortly after arriving dinner was served. People began to dance at about midnight and dessert was served at 4am. EVERYONE , young (2yrs old) and old (86 yrs. old) was dancing, conversing, eating, and enjoying the evening. I found myself judging the parents who were letting their kids stay up so late, and questioning why grandparents would want to stay up so late for a birthday party. I later reflected on how structured and time oriented our society can be and how liberating it must be to break the rules every once in while. Kids of all ages were dancing, and they had rhythm! Maybe that’s why most people who grow up in suburbia can’t dance…because bedtime was at 8pm, before dancing (if there was any dancing) got started. I don’t think either way is right or wrong, but what if we all took time to spend the whole night eating, conversing, dancing, laughing, and spending time with friends and family? I wonder if our (the US) society would be happier as a whole. Asi es la vida.
Ok, time to finish this up with the last “asi es la vida” moment. On Sunday the kids from the barrio were asked to dance the Muegra at two different locations. I sat next to the 10 year old boy I referred to two paragraphs above and we conversed throughout the ride. We talked about school, batman, airplanes, dancing, and work. This boy, like most 10 year old boys, was interested in everything from airplanes to batman yet as we passed on part of the city he exclaimed, “that’s where I work!” On the weekends him and his brother go with the family to pick up the “treasures” that others have thrown away and resell those treasures for income. This 10 year old lives two very different realities on a daily basis. Asi es la vida.
WHEW. I hope you got through all of that! I don’t have internet access and the closest internet café is about 10 min by bus, so bear with me on the communication side of things.
Thanks to everyone for the support and love!
Cristina
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Getting ORIENTED at ORIENTATION
Hello from Buenos Aires!
First off, please excuse the spelling errors that are bound to happen in my posts from here on out...having spell check in Spanish is not very helpful!! Wow, where to begin. Well I recently finished up 2 weeks of orientation in Chicago and Buenos Aires. I don´t want to bore you, so I´ll try to sum up what has now become a bit of a blur in my mind.
I left for Chicago 2 weeks ago to reunite with 50 other people in the YAGM program. We were quite the sight at the airport, each struggling to carry what we believed would be necessities for a year in a foregin country (I wonder if our perception on what is a "necessity" will change by next july!). After a long bus ride through traffic, we arrived at the U. of Chicago and walked with our luggage through the POURING RAIN. As I was grumbling inside my head I began to realize that this is what the next year would be like...that I would be challenged to give up control of schedule, time, comfort, communication, safety, transportation, and experiences; and learn to live in the unknown.
Our week in Chicago was spent learning about the program, discussing fears, hopes, and expectations, and relaxing as we prepared for this new journey. We got a bit of a taste of the challenges of public transportation, the need to be aware of your surroundings, and the importance of community when experiencing the unknown. On the following Thursday, 50 of us when our seperate ways to S. Africa, Malaysia, UK, Mexico, Hungry, Slovokia, Palestine, and ARGENTINA!
I am one of five who is in Argentina and Uruguay this year. The flight was about 13 hours to Buenos Aires. It went smoothly and was relatively painless (apart from cramped legs!). About an hour in, I noticed a boy about 4 years old staring at me with big brown eyes I smiled at him and he promptly reached over and took my hand. We stayed like that for a minute before he started talking about aliens, movies, and grandma´s house. Who knew that something so simple coming from someone so young would give me comfort as well as lots of laughs for the next 13 hours.
We landed in Buenos Aires at about 9:30 in the morning. Kate and David (the country coordinators for Argentina as well as the regoinal reps for the ELCA in S. America) met us at the airport and helped us strategically get our luggage into the 2 small cars we used to get the the seminary where we would stay for the next week. Once at the seminary, we unpacked and settled in a bit before the start of "in country" orientation. The seminary we stayed at is called ISADET and trains pastors for 7 different denominations of Christianity.
That afternoon we made our way to the Plaza de Mayo, a famous plaza in the center of Buenos Aires. The subway was closed due to protests, so we had to take a bus into the city. It was at this point that I realized that I really was in another country. I forgot what it feels like to be the odd one out , and standing on that bus, the many pairs of eyes that I precieved were looking at the 5 of us, reminded me that I was no longer in "Kansas" and that much like the rest of the world, many people view the US (and people from the US) negatively and that because I blatently stand out as a US citizen, I would need to get used to all of the negative stereotypes that I would now display-covering up the individual inside. I think everyone should need to experience this feeling at one point or another. Anyways, the Plaza de Mayo is famous for the Madres y Abuelas who march there every Thursday in the afternoon. The women who march each week have been marching there for years in response to the dictatorship, leaving over 30,000 people "disappeared". When people started to disappear, a group of mothers and grandmothers marched around the plaza each Thursday with pictures of their kids (many between the ages of 18 and 30) who were taken from their home and never seen again. As I watched these brave women walk around the plaza, I reflected on the painful events that have led them to form this community. Through their sorrow and loss, they are now a powerful political group in Argentina and continue to march each week not only in rememberance of their lost ones, but also in support of various causes.
Later in the week, we visited a clandestina (or what we might call a prison or concentration camp) from the dictatorship. Out of the 5,000 people who passed through this camp, 4,800 people disappeard. Many were given sedatives and droped from planes into the ocean, others I imagine, were tortured to death. Pregnant women were kept alive until they had their babies so that army officials interested in adoption could quickly recieve their new baby. Throughout the year I hope to learn more about the role of the United States in the dictatorship. Many countries in S. and Central America have experienced violent dictatorships, many of which were connected to the actions of the US government. In the spirit of capitalism and globalization, many lives were lost and many families were torn apart. I hope we (as a global community) can look back at history and learn for the future in order to prevent such tradgedy.
WHEW. Well, to wrap this up, I am now in Jose C. Paz, the providence where I will be living for the next year. I am living in an in-law apartment behind the house of Rosy and Ernesto, a wonderful couple who are very involved in the community center where I will be working. Rosy and her family helped to start the community center and all of them have been involved every since. The differences between poverty and wealth in this providence is blatent. I will write more later about my experience so far, as for now, I have to get going!
Love,
Cristina
First off, please excuse the spelling errors that are bound to happen in my posts from here on out...having spell check in Spanish is not very helpful!! Wow, where to begin. Well I recently finished up 2 weeks of orientation in Chicago and Buenos Aires. I don´t want to bore you, so I´ll try to sum up what has now become a bit of a blur in my mind.
I left for Chicago 2 weeks ago to reunite with 50 other people in the YAGM program. We were quite the sight at the airport, each struggling to carry what we believed would be necessities for a year in a foregin country (I wonder if our perception on what is a "necessity" will change by next july!). After a long bus ride through traffic, we arrived at the U. of Chicago and walked with our luggage through the POURING RAIN. As I was grumbling inside my head I began to realize that this is what the next year would be like...that I would be challenged to give up control of schedule, time, comfort, communication, safety, transportation, and experiences; and learn to live in the unknown.
Our week in Chicago was spent learning about the program, discussing fears, hopes, and expectations, and relaxing as we prepared for this new journey. We got a bit of a taste of the challenges of public transportation, the need to be aware of your surroundings, and the importance of community when experiencing the unknown. On the following Thursday, 50 of us when our seperate ways to S. Africa, Malaysia, UK, Mexico, Hungry, Slovokia, Palestine, and ARGENTINA!
I am one of five who is in Argentina and Uruguay this year. The flight was about 13 hours to Buenos Aires. It went smoothly and was relatively painless (apart from cramped legs!). About an hour in, I noticed a boy about 4 years old staring at me with big brown eyes I smiled at him and he promptly reached over and took my hand. We stayed like that for a minute before he started talking about aliens, movies, and grandma´s house. Who knew that something so simple coming from someone so young would give me comfort as well as lots of laughs for the next 13 hours.
We landed in Buenos Aires at about 9:30 in the morning. Kate and David (the country coordinators for Argentina as well as the regoinal reps for the ELCA in S. America) met us at the airport and helped us strategically get our luggage into the 2 small cars we used to get the the seminary where we would stay for the next week. Once at the seminary, we unpacked and settled in a bit before the start of "in country" orientation. The seminary we stayed at is called ISADET and trains pastors for 7 different denominations of Christianity.
That afternoon we made our way to the Plaza de Mayo, a famous plaza in the center of Buenos Aires. The subway was closed due to protests, so we had to take a bus into the city. It was at this point that I realized that I really was in another country. I forgot what it feels like to be the odd one out , and standing on that bus, the many pairs of eyes that I precieved were looking at the 5 of us, reminded me that I was no longer in "Kansas" and that much like the rest of the world, many people view the US (and people from the US) negatively and that because I blatently stand out as a US citizen, I would need to get used to all of the negative stereotypes that I would now display-covering up the individual inside. I think everyone should need to experience this feeling at one point or another. Anyways, the Plaza de Mayo is famous for the Madres y Abuelas who march there every Thursday in the afternoon. The women who march each week have been marching there for years in response to the dictatorship, leaving over 30,000 people "disappeared". When people started to disappear, a group of mothers and grandmothers marched around the plaza each Thursday with pictures of their kids (many between the ages of 18 and 30) who were taken from their home and never seen again. As I watched these brave women walk around the plaza, I reflected on the painful events that have led them to form this community. Through their sorrow and loss, they are now a powerful political group in Argentina and continue to march each week not only in rememberance of their lost ones, but also in support of various causes.
Later in the week, we visited a clandestina (or what we might call a prison or concentration camp) from the dictatorship. Out of the 5,000 people who passed through this camp, 4,800 people disappeard. Many were given sedatives and droped from planes into the ocean, others I imagine, were tortured to death. Pregnant women were kept alive until they had their babies so that army officials interested in adoption could quickly recieve their new baby. Throughout the year I hope to learn more about the role of the United States in the dictatorship. Many countries in S. and Central America have experienced violent dictatorships, many of which were connected to the actions of the US government. In the spirit of capitalism and globalization, many lives were lost and many families were torn apart. I hope we (as a global community) can look back at history and learn for the future in order to prevent such tradgedy.
WHEW. Well, to wrap this up, I am now in Jose C. Paz, the providence where I will be living for the next year. I am living in an in-law apartment behind the house of Rosy and Ernesto, a wonderful couple who are very involved in the community center where I will be working. Rosy and her family helped to start the community center and all of them have been involved every since. The differences between poverty and wealth in this providence is blatent. I will write more later about my experience so far, as for now, I have to get going!
Love,
Cristina
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