One day I looked
up.
Usually when I
looked up at the school in Ticaco I discovered the mountains. When I stood in
the middle of the schoolyard, the image of the Peruvian flag waving in front of
the sierras consistently surprised me.
How
did I get here?
But today when I looked up, I discovered that I am the
mom of a bunch of Peruvian teenagers.
How did I get here?
I asked myself this question often during més de misión this past
January.
When I “cleaned” dirty/rock paths by moving
larger rocks to the side
When llamas passed me in the roads
When I walked through the town with a
dripping bag of meat to cook for lunch
When a girl from the town showed me her
house, garden and pets (dogs, cats, ducks and guinea pigs)
When I worked alongside Paola in an oregano
farm
When I had to clean the balde de chanco (bucket of stinky,
dripping food for a pig)
When I yelled at teenage boys to put on
pants
When I went to bed every night in a room
full of my students; telling them to be quiet while laughing at their
conversations
When
my name became La Miss
I heard a lot
about this “month of mission” beforehand. I knew that it is a month-long
service project for the upcoming fourth year students (age 14-15) at my school.
The Jesuit volunteers are prime candidates for faculty sponsors, which meant
that my first teaching role would actually beassesora (small group/ general leader). My responsibilities would
include managing my group during our service work, helping them lead classes
for kids in the town, and leading reflections. However, between the volunteers
somewhat reserved commentary and the general lack of planning characteristic of
Peru, much about my job remained a mystery. I was a little nervous about the
length; a month seemed like a long time for a service project. However, when we
asked for esperanzas during the first
reflection, my hope was time. I was hopeful for this time: time with students,
time away, and time doing work I know I
love. Looking back on the month, I’m full of gratitude for the time…God answers
my prayers, and I am consistently surprised.
It turned out
that the responsibilities of an assesora
were very different than the job description. I was supposed to coordinate and
allocate the tools each workday. We had no tools for the first two weeks. I was
supposed to lead nightly reflections. I think we had five total. One thing was
consistent. Accompaniment. I ate and slept; worked and played; laughed and
cried; listened and shared with my students. We grew together along the way. And
I found my heart growing in a way I had not experienced before. My love came
quickly and freely. I wanted to offer all I have to these kids: all my time,
all my words, all my prayers. I loved when I was proud of them and hated when I
was angry. I saw each one. I loved them for their uniqueness, for their own
light. And I was grateful for the times when they shared that light (Grace)
with me. I wanted to know them and love them. These kids were my family. I let
go of my whole world, all I knew, and made them
my world. That is why when they began a question, a reflection or a teary-eyed
story with “Miss,” it seemed only natural to smile, look them in the eye and
say “my child.”
I arrived to
Ticaco disoriented- and not just because I rode in a van with 11 teenage girls
screaming along to musicaromantica.
[Yes, romantic music is a legitimate genre and a favorite of my girls.] The
transition time rocked my foundation, and I was still feeling pretty unsteady
at the beginning of our journey. More than once I woke up dirty, exhausted,
surrounded by whiny teenagers I could barely understand. These times I did not
wonderhow did I get here but rather what the HELL am I doing here. But walking with my children I began to feel more
grounded— each step of the way bringing me into life here.
The more I think
about it, the caminos (roads/paths)
in Ticaco are like the road to Emmaus. Like Jesus’ disciples, my heart did burn
within me as I walked along the Way. [And we walked ALL the caminos in Ticaco. Several times. So I
feel pretty confident about this one.] Now I can wholeheartedly say that the
best part about being here is my students. They energize me and give me hope. I
feel like I can give of myself more freely and honestly to this service.
Accompanying my kids on their mission made me more ready and able to live out
my own mission.
While walking
and working in MILES of gorgeous, mountainous caminos, I often told my kids to disfruta el camino.As we begin the school year and return to
“normal life,” I’ve decided to take my own advice. I’m still at the beginning
of my journey here, so there is a lot of unknown. I’m just getting to know my
school, my community, my Peruvian family, future friends, Tacna… It’s a lot.
But now it feels only natural to look at the road and smile.I’ll enjoy the
journey.
