I remember writing a friend one Saturday afternoon last year and, with a sigh, calling laundry “the story of my life.” She knew my weekend missives all too well: “Hi there, I’m just taking a break from folding laundry...(chit chat)…Well, I better get back to the basket of darks. With love, Maria.”
After a few weeks of living in Costa Rica, I realized how hard it would be if I had to work full time and live here in Monteverde—it takes time to walk everywhere and do so many more things manually. Many things (such as appliances and packaged foods) that I used to consider necessities or staples in the States are uncommon here. It dawned on me more clearly than ever before how on one hand, I worked to be able to purchase these various conveniences, but on the other hand, it was those very things which, in many ways, made it possible for me to work and still have time for other activities…including sleep.
Laundry is a good example. In St. Louis, I would often start a load of laundry in the washing machine before going to work in the morning, toss it into the dryer at lunchtime, and then some time in the evening carefully lay it in a laundry basket to be folded and put away on the weekend.
Typical Costa Rican washers aren’t automatic. You have to manually turn the water on and off, flip a switch to drain the water after each cycle, put the laundry in a separate tub to spin the water out (like the swimsuit dryers at recreation centers), and then hang the laundry on the clothesline, turning it upside down and back and forth throughout the morning trying to get it dry before the first rain shower of the day. Fortunately we also have a covered porch where we can continue the drying process if needed. Most people living in Costa Rica don’t have dryers—the cost of electricity is prohibitive. If you do have one, you try to dry the clothes after 8 p.m. when the price of electricity is less and then only use it if, after a day or two on the clothesline, your towels and jeans still aren’t dry. Right now the spinner on our washer isn’t working, but I ceased complaining about having to wring out laundry by hand (it’s a good way to strengthen arm muscles) after a trip to Nicaragua the first weekend in October.
Since we are here on tourist visas, we have to leave the country for 72 hours every 90 days. We left the house at 4:00 Thursday morning to catch the bus to Nicaragua. It was the first time we had ventured to a third world country. The point of entry area was surrounded by people selling inexpensive food, hammocks, and pirated DVD’s, as well as children, the elderly, and handicapped begging for money. Their persistent requests as we waited in line for customs were difficult to handle emotionally, and we wished we had brought more coins or small bills to share.
Not too far from the border, we took a ferry across Lake Nicaragua (the 11th largest lake in the world) to the Island of Ometepe. 40,000 people live on the island which is laid out like a figure eight around two volcanoes. Our hostess at the hotel told us that the people on the island are cash poor but not hungry. Families are able to grow fruits and vegetables and have animals for eggs, milk, and meat. But, very few jobs are available, and those people who have them don’t earn much. Apparently the average annual (yes annual) income in Nicaragua is $600 (as compared to $500 a month in Costa Rica). Nicaraguans will work 10-12 hour days, 6 days a week, for eight and a half cents an hour. Yet, our experience showed that these are kind and happy people.
On Friday, a taxi driver took us around the island in his beat up jeep showing us the sites and waiting while we swam on various Ozark-like beaches. Years from now, however, it’s not the beaches I’ll remember but the slices of life we saw driving from place to place—the groups of children walking to and from school, the young men (some just boys) herding cows down the street on bicycles or scrawny ponies, the oxcarts hauling firewood (while most houses have electricity, it is only for lights; most people still use wood stoves for cooking), pigs and chickens everywhere (including in the living rooms of houses—all of which had their doors open for ventilation on the very warm afternoon), and, perhaps most moving to me, the women up to their waists in water washing laundry by hand in the river or lake.
We returned from Nicaragua on Sunday, and the following Friday, Heidi and I made a trip to the United States. While in St. Louis, I enjoyed being with family and friends, but I often felt frenzied and ungrounded as I did endless errands. I had quite a long list of things to buy, not only for ourselves, but for others too—a list that took me to two different malls, three groceries stores, Toys R Us, Alpine Shop, Sports Authority, Home Depot, Target, Blockbuster Video, Petsmart, our vet, and the new Walmart SuperCenter. Talk about culture shock! I think every square foot of retail space in the Santa Elena/Monteverde area could fit inside the Walmart…twice over.
The contrast between Nicaragua and West County St. Louis was arresting and further stirred paradigms had been struggling with for quite a while. Even though I feel our family’s year in Costa Rica is God-impelled, I don’t think a week has gone by since the idea surfaced when I haven’t wrestled with feeling a bit guilty (OK sometimes very guilty…and concerned) about spending our savings on this experience. (We may be helping our kids pay back college loans for a long time.) However, after our time in Nicaragua, I was even more keenly aware that simply being able to make the choice to be here (a choice on how we spend our money) is in itself a luxury.
I don’t have all (in fact hardly any) of the answers yet, but gratefully I’m beginning to work through some of the issues swirling in thought and reconnect with an inner peace. I have a rekindled faith that moment by moment God will show us how “to be,” how to live with integrity and love.
My “sisters” scrubbing clothes in Lake Nicaragua are never far from thought as I do my daily chores. Next time you do laundry, think of the women (and men) all over the world in lakes, rivers, laundromats, houses, and apartments who, whatever their lot, are doing their best to live not only with clean clothes but, perhaps more importantly, with joy and grace. This new sense of universal sister/brotherhood means a lot to me today and gives me hope.
Happy washing!
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Memories and Markets
Our life has begun to settle down in right and needed ways this week. On Monday, Heidi transferred to the Monteverde Quaker Friends School (MFS). It’s a much better fit for her academically and socially. She came home from school the first day genuinely delighted to have homework again.
Wednesday was Children’s Day in Costa Rica, and both kids’ schools had special activities. At MFS, they divided the students up into multi-grade teams for games and other activities. I was a great way for Heidi to meet younger schoolmates; she was quickly taken under wing by two little girls who painted her face (purple eyebrows, a beard, rainbow and hearts) and who now get daily piggy back rides.
Lincoln and Michael have been busy getting ready for the September 15th Central American Independence Day parade. The Cloud Forest School will be marching with drums, bells, a couple of guitars, an accordion and two brass players. Guess who?
Friday morning Michael, Heidi and I attended a gathering in memory of our friend Rachel Crandell. Rachel was Heidi’s second grade teacher at Principia, and she and her husband were founders of the United States chapter of the Monteverde Conservation League (MCL). The memorial sharing at Mother’s Garden in the Children’s Eternal Rain Forest (BEN) was a wonderful celebration of a woman whose life showed over and over again that one person can indeed make a difference. There were just over 30 people present many of whom spontaneously spoke about Rachel—her friendship, her spirituality, her work in recording stories of the Mayan and Embera people, and her endless efforts to expand and revitalize the BEN. Mike’s contribution included singing a contemporary arrangement of the hymn “Gracious Spirit Dwell with Me.” Comments were translated into either English or Spanish, making it a bilingual event filled with a sweet spirit of brotherhood. Blue morpho butterflies came to bless the occasion with their eloquent silence; and howler monkeys, although hidden from view, voiced their appreciation for the home Rachel had helped preserve for them. At the end, a tree was planted in Rachel’s honor; and after walking back up to the Nature Center, everyone enjoyed delicious brownies with mint chocolate frosting (reminiscent of Rachel’s favorite Girl Scout cookies).
Today also was a blessed day. Every Saturday morning there is a farmer’s market in the Santa Elena high school gymnasium. Lincoln and I made the walk in together, arriving about 9:45. We were too late for good avocados or mangos, but we filled our big beach bag with green beans, broccoli, hydroponically grown lettuce (50 cents a head), bananas (6 cents each), a pepper, potatoes, zucchini, and a cucumber. Market is a community event filled with happy handshakes and kisses on the cheek (a greeting indicating acceptance in Costa Rica). We always run into friends from our schools or Quaker meeting. Today our neighbor Sara was there, and hallelujah, she was willing to take our heavy bag of purchases home in her car.
Grateful to have our load lightened, Lincoln and I went on to the Super Compro to get the rest of our groceries. We turned down an aisle, and Sara was there too! Not only did Sara again provide transport for our purchases, but she also helped me understand the sale signs. This week’s specials included buy one Kellogg’s cereal and get the second at 75% off (making each box close in price to what we pay in the US). So, for the first time in over two months, Lincoln will get to enjoy Zucharitas (Frosted Flakes) for breakfast.
Our next stop was the vet to buy rain boots for Lincoln (yes, the veterinarian is also a boot store). We got the last pair in his size. (We’ve had some good foretastes of the rainy season this week, and I’m happy to report that my rain pants, coat and boots kept me dry during a 25 minute trek in a yesterday’s 4 hour downpour.) A bilingual friend was there, and it occurred to me to see if she could help me place a special order for Bogie’s dog food. We had hauled 60 pounds of Science Diet up from San Jose in July, but it will run out soon. Thanks to Veronica, a large bag of food will arrive for us on Wednesday.
Then, just as we were about to head up the long hill home, I remembered that we needed to get a white shirt for Michael to wear in the parade on Monday. Three stores later, I had found one—a little large, but it will work. I was grateful to have been successful with our purchases, so glad not to be carrying them all home on my back, and happy to have Lincoln’s good natured companionship.
Today has been good for Bogie too. On our afternoon walk, he got to play with a friend’s two dogs. He even has an invitation to come back again tomorrow.
This evening, Mike and I sent Heidi and Lincoln off to the movies—a James Bond double feature shown in a tiny auditorium near the Bat Jungle (a really cool place to visit). The popcorn is free.
Mike just finished making chocolate cookies, and as you can see, I’ve been enjoying writing. It’s nice to have life feel good. Yeah!
Wednesday was Children’s Day in Costa Rica, and both kids’ schools had special activities. At MFS, they divided the students up into multi-grade teams for games and other activities. I was a great way for Heidi to meet younger schoolmates; she was quickly taken under wing by two little girls who painted her face (purple eyebrows, a beard, rainbow and hearts) and who now get daily piggy back rides.
Lincoln and Michael have been busy getting ready for the September 15th Central American Independence Day parade. The Cloud Forest School will be marching with drums, bells, a couple of guitars, an accordion and two brass players. Guess who?
Friday morning Michael, Heidi and I attended a gathering in memory of our friend Rachel Crandell. Rachel was Heidi’s second grade teacher at Principia, and she and her husband were founders of the United States chapter of the Monteverde Conservation League (MCL). The memorial sharing at Mother’s Garden in the Children’s Eternal Rain Forest (BEN) was a wonderful celebration of a woman whose life showed over and over again that one person can indeed make a difference. There were just over 30 people present many of whom spontaneously spoke about Rachel—her friendship, her spirituality, her work in recording stories of the Mayan and Embera people, and her endless efforts to expand and revitalize the BEN. Mike’s contribution included singing a contemporary arrangement of the hymn “Gracious Spirit Dwell with Me.” Comments were translated into either English or Spanish, making it a bilingual event filled with a sweet spirit of brotherhood. Blue morpho butterflies came to bless the occasion with their eloquent silence; and howler monkeys, although hidden from view, voiced their appreciation for the home Rachel had helped preserve for them. At the end, a tree was planted in Rachel’s honor; and after walking back up to the Nature Center, everyone enjoyed delicious brownies with mint chocolate frosting (reminiscent of Rachel’s favorite Girl Scout cookies).
Today also was a blessed day. Every Saturday morning there is a farmer’s market in the Santa Elena high school gymnasium. Lincoln and I made the walk in together, arriving about 9:45. We were too late for good avocados or mangos, but we filled our big beach bag with green beans, broccoli, hydroponically grown lettuce (50 cents a head), bananas (6 cents each), a pepper, potatoes, zucchini, and a cucumber. Market is a community event filled with happy handshakes and kisses on the cheek (a greeting indicating acceptance in Costa Rica). We always run into friends from our schools or Quaker meeting. Today our neighbor Sara was there, and hallelujah, she was willing to take our heavy bag of purchases home in her car.
Grateful to have our load lightened, Lincoln and I went on to the Super Compro to get the rest of our groceries. We turned down an aisle, and Sara was there too! Not only did Sara again provide transport for our purchases, but she also helped me understand the sale signs. This week’s specials included buy one Kellogg’s cereal and get the second at 75% off (making each box close in price to what we pay in the US). So, for the first time in over two months, Lincoln will get to enjoy Zucharitas (Frosted Flakes) for breakfast.
Our next stop was the vet to buy rain boots for Lincoln (yes, the veterinarian is also a boot store). We got the last pair in his size. (We’ve had some good foretastes of the rainy season this week, and I’m happy to report that my rain pants, coat and boots kept me dry during a 25 minute trek in a yesterday’s 4 hour downpour.) A bilingual friend was there, and it occurred to me to see if she could help me place a special order for Bogie’s dog food. We had hauled 60 pounds of Science Diet up from San Jose in July, but it will run out soon. Thanks to Veronica, a large bag of food will arrive for us on Wednesday.
Then, just as we were about to head up the long hill home, I remembered that we needed to get a white shirt for Michael to wear in the parade on Monday. Three stores later, I had found one—a little large, but it will work. I was grateful to have been successful with our purchases, so glad not to be carrying them all home on my back, and happy to have Lincoln’s good natured companionship.
Today has been good for Bogie too. On our afternoon walk, he got to play with a friend’s two dogs. He even has an invitation to come back again tomorrow.
This evening, Mike and I sent Heidi and Lincoln off to the movies—a James Bond double feature shown in a tiny auditorium near the Bat Jungle (a really cool place to visit). The popcorn is free.
Mike just finished making chocolate cookies, and as you can see, I’ve been enjoying writing. It’s nice to have life feel good. Yeah!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Bumps in the Road
The kilometers covered walking around Monteverde fall more easily under my feet now. Seven weeks without a car have helped me get in much better shape. There are several hills that will never be easy (and which must regularly be traveled), but the walk to my Monday morning yoga class, which in the beginning brought exhaustion, is now pleasant thinking time without complaints from my body.
Today as I walked, my thought wandered first to Bogie and then to things I’m learning about life. We’ve all had challenges here in Costa Rica, the pets included. Bogie has had to have a cone around his head recently so that a wound on his leg can heal, and this morning I was thinking about the beautiful new pale pink skin appearing as scabs fall off. I’ve been told that old cells in our body are regularly replaced by new ones so that literally the body I have today won’t be the same as the one I have when we return to St. Louis in June or July. I suspect I’ll actually look a little different too--a few pounds lighter, skin a bit tanner. But I wonder how many people will notice that every cell of my soul is also new—a renewal process that I can already feel happening (and that I sometimes balk at).
When people asked me if I was planning to blog regularly this year, I refused to make a commitment sensing that this experience was going to be at times a bit messy as I thought through paradigms and spent time in self-examination, that it was going to be about so much more than white-faced monkeys and toucans…about things hard to put on paper. And this has indeed been the case. Looking at the months and seasons that still lie ahead (with weeks of incessant rain coming soon), I can only hope that some of the mental miles will gradually fall more easily underfoot too.
The first month here, Heidi, Lincoln, and Mike were involved in a production of the musical "Urine Town" and my time focused on figuring out daily life—how to make the showers and washing machine work, where to get online, finding good things to eat, etc. When school started three weeks ago, a different reality started to settle in. I realized how much my sense of purpose, community, and identity felt linked to my job. While Mike is having a blast with more volunteer options at his feet than he can take on, finding a niche for myself (i.e. feeling satisfied and purposeful) is proving to be a bit more challenging.
The start of school has been hard for Heidi and Lincoln as well. We’ve realized that when their current school talks about it academics, it is comparing itself to the average US public school, and neither Principia nor Crossroads is average, so their classes haven’t been very challenging; and language and cultural differences have made friendships harder than imagined.
There have been several occasions for me, Heidi, and Lincoln, when if we had an out--a way to return to St. Louis and the schools/job and friends we love—I think we would have been tempted to abandon ship. Yet, each recommitment to staying here has helped us redefine happiness and realize that we are stronger and braver than we think. We are supporting each other more as a family--playing games, learning to me more compassionate, flexible, and forgiving, and we’ve been awakened to what a privileged life we’ve led as middle class Americans.
Sometimes it is tempting to think that happiness is in Prego spaghetti sauce or Smucker’s strawberry jam. (Sadly, we’ve learned to hoard. We were wisely counseled, “If you find them on the shelf, buy every jar in sight.”) When favorite foods aren’t readily available (or in the budget), dissatisfaction simply can’t be soothed by chocolate or a smoothie run. We recently gained perspective on the food front from a friend of Heidi’s who said he has eaten some form of rice and rehydrated beans every day of his life for 15 years; to him a meal of pasta was a treat.
When fast internet access is a 30-minute walk (at least we finally got a dial up connect at home a week ago), long distance calls cost 35 cents a minute, and SKYPE voice calls break up (forget video), the thought of heaven on earth isn’t a place or adventure, but the opportunity to talk face to face with a friend. The absence of these “tastes” of heaven has helped me realize that happiness has nothing to do with people, places, health, or things—it comes from loving (even if just sitting in a chair beaming prayers) and seeing God’s presence in the little things. However, it is much easier to understand all the lessons being learned in theory than to live them in practice, and sometimes the bugs swept out of the corners of one’s heart (as well as our living room) aren’t pretty to look at.
There may be “miles to go before I sleep” on our comfy St. Louis bed again and many roads less traveled to explore before driving down I-64 from Lambert International Airport, but as I was out walking again later today…stepping around puddles and protruding rocks in the dirt roads…the mental ground felt holy.
So while I could have written about an amazing horseback ride to a cascading river and natural hot springs (the one touristy thing we’ve done), or our wonderful houseguests from Maine (they brought dark chocolate M&M’s and great hugs), it felt important today to share the rough spots. When all is said and done, I think these will be the meat of our experience for me--not just memories but the substance of who I am and become...mi pura vida!
Today as I walked, my thought wandered first to Bogie and then to things I’m learning about life. We’ve all had challenges here in Costa Rica, the pets included. Bogie has had to have a cone around his head recently so that a wound on his leg can heal, and this morning I was thinking about the beautiful new pale pink skin appearing as scabs fall off. I’ve been told that old cells in our body are regularly replaced by new ones so that literally the body I have today won’t be the same as the one I have when we return to St. Louis in June or July. I suspect I’ll actually look a little different too--a few pounds lighter, skin a bit tanner. But I wonder how many people will notice that every cell of my soul is also new—a renewal process that I can already feel happening (and that I sometimes balk at).
When people asked me if I was planning to blog regularly this year, I refused to make a commitment sensing that this experience was going to be at times a bit messy as I thought through paradigms and spent time in self-examination, that it was going to be about so much more than white-faced monkeys and toucans…about things hard to put on paper. And this has indeed been the case. Looking at the months and seasons that still lie ahead (with weeks of incessant rain coming soon), I can only hope that some of the mental miles will gradually fall more easily underfoot too.
The first month here, Heidi, Lincoln, and Mike were involved in a production of the musical "Urine Town" and my time focused on figuring out daily life—how to make the showers and washing machine work, where to get online, finding good things to eat, etc. When school started three weeks ago, a different reality started to settle in. I realized how much my sense of purpose, community, and identity felt linked to my job. While Mike is having a blast with more volunteer options at his feet than he can take on, finding a niche for myself (i.e. feeling satisfied and purposeful) is proving to be a bit more challenging.
The start of school has been hard for Heidi and Lincoln as well. We’ve realized that when their current school talks about it academics, it is comparing itself to the average US public school, and neither Principia nor Crossroads is average, so their classes haven’t been very challenging; and language and cultural differences have made friendships harder than imagined.
There have been several occasions for me, Heidi, and Lincoln, when if we had an out--a way to return to St. Louis and the schools/job and friends we love—I think we would have been tempted to abandon ship. Yet, each recommitment to staying here has helped us redefine happiness and realize that we are stronger and braver than we think. We are supporting each other more as a family--playing games, learning to me more compassionate, flexible, and forgiving, and we’ve been awakened to what a privileged life we’ve led as middle class Americans.
Sometimes it is tempting to think that happiness is in Prego spaghetti sauce or Smucker’s strawberry jam. (Sadly, we’ve learned to hoard. We were wisely counseled, “If you find them on the shelf, buy every jar in sight.”) When favorite foods aren’t readily available (or in the budget), dissatisfaction simply can’t be soothed by chocolate or a smoothie run. We recently gained perspective on the food front from a friend of Heidi’s who said he has eaten some form of rice and rehydrated beans every day of his life for 15 years; to him a meal of pasta was a treat.
When fast internet access is a 30-minute walk (at least we finally got a dial up connect at home a week ago), long distance calls cost 35 cents a minute, and SKYPE voice calls break up (forget video), the thought of heaven on earth isn’t a place or adventure, but the opportunity to talk face to face with a friend. The absence of these “tastes” of heaven has helped me realize that happiness has nothing to do with people, places, health, or things—it comes from loving (even if just sitting in a chair beaming prayers) and seeing God’s presence in the little things. However, it is much easier to understand all the lessons being learned in theory than to live them in practice, and sometimes the bugs swept out of the corners of one’s heart (as well as our living room) aren’t pretty to look at.
There may be “miles to go before I sleep” on our comfy St. Louis bed again and many roads less traveled to explore before driving down I-64 from Lambert International Airport, but as I was out walking again later today…stepping around puddles and protruding rocks in the dirt roads…the mental ground felt holy.
So while I could have written about an amazing horseback ride to a cascading river and natural hot springs (the one touristy thing we’ve done), or our wonderful houseguests from Maine (they brought dark chocolate M&M’s and great hugs), it felt important today to share the rough spots. When all is said and done, I think these will be the meat of our experience for me--not just memories but the substance of who I am and become...mi pura vida!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Blessed Sabbath
The past two Sundays here in Costa Rica, Michael and I have attending Quaker meetings. From where we live, you REALLY have to want to go to church to get there. Unlike in St. Louis where I think nothing about hoping in the car and driving 5-30 minutes to my favorite service, it’s a different story when you have to walk 35 minutes up and down hills in heavy winds, hike over very rocky dirt roads, dodge mud puddles, and are likely to get rained on during at least one leg of the journey. By the time I got to meeting this morning, I was ready to collapse into God’s arms mentally and physically. As I sat down on the pew, that’s exactly what I did.
During the half-hour before meeting, there is a camp style a cappella hymn sing. People pick their favorite songs from two different hymn books (everything from old traditional favorites sung by our grandparents to “Let There Be Peace on Earth” and a few Pete Seeger songs); someone hums a starting note, and the music begins. We thoroughly enjoyed the singing last week.
At 10:30 the hymnals are collected, and the meeting officially begins. The meeting is very simple—approximately 50 minutes of silent prayer. But the atmosphere is profound; it is one of spiritual awareness not drowsiness. Someone may speak during the silence if so moved, but apparently most people save any comments until the last 10 minutes or so, when whoever is running the meeting that day invites “afterthoughts” followed by introductions and community announcements. On the first Sunday of each month there is a potluck.
I’ve struggled this week to feel at home in Costa Rica and have also been a bit ill, which is one reason why getting to meeting this morning felt like an accomplishment in and of itself. The night before, I had been unsure if I would be ready for the trek. We arrived late, and the silent prayer was underway. Across from me, a woman sat yoga-style with her legs crossed on the bench. Her eyes were closed and she a lovely expression of peace and joy on her face. Her serenity made me smile, and my troubles melted.
Then little Odelia (a beautiful blonde toddler) began fidgeting and making noise. Her presence inspired me to pray for the children of the world. The Bible verse, “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of thy children,” became the launch pad for my prayers which quickly expanded to include all mankind as children of God—free from fear or disease of any kind.
It was a lovely holy meeting. We’ll be there in time for hymns next week, but today we were cleaning house for after church company—a potluck for other new “international” families. The kids enjoyed soccer, hacky sack and wii while the adults shared stories of how we all got here and what treasures, challenges, and tips we’ve discovered in our few days here.
I think many of us will share the same Sunday after meeting routine: check out books from the Friends’ (Quaker) Library (today I got Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince for Heidi and Lincoln to reread before they see the movie and picked out an Alice Hoffman novel for myself) and then stop at the Cheese Factory to pick up dairy products for the week including milk that comes out of a spicket (you bring your own container)—very delicious.
It has been a lovely day of healing, fellowship, new friends, AND on the way home from meeting, I saw three white faced monkeys up in the trees. My first monkeys!
Thank You God for this day.
During the half-hour before meeting, there is a camp style a cappella hymn sing. People pick their favorite songs from two different hymn books (everything from old traditional favorites sung by our grandparents to “Let There Be Peace on Earth” and a few Pete Seeger songs); someone hums a starting note, and the music begins. We thoroughly enjoyed the singing last week.
At 10:30 the hymnals are collected, and the meeting officially begins. The meeting is very simple—approximately 50 minutes of silent prayer. But the atmosphere is profound; it is one of spiritual awareness not drowsiness. Someone may speak during the silence if so moved, but apparently most people save any comments until the last 10 minutes or so, when whoever is running the meeting that day invites “afterthoughts” followed by introductions and community announcements. On the first Sunday of each month there is a potluck.
I’ve struggled this week to feel at home in Costa Rica and have also been a bit ill, which is one reason why getting to meeting this morning felt like an accomplishment in and of itself. The night before, I had been unsure if I would be ready for the trek. We arrived late, and the silent prayer was underway. Across from me, a woman sat yoga-style with her legs crossed on the bench. Her eyes were closed and she a lovely expression of peace and joy on her face. Her serenity made me smile, and my troubles melted.
Then little Odelia (a beautiful blonde toddler) began fidgeting and making noise. Her presence inspired me to pray for the children of the world. The Bible verse, “All thy children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of thy children,” became the launch pad for my prayers which quickly expanded to include all mankind as children of God—free from fear or disease of any kind.
It was a lovely holy meeting. We’ll be there in time for hymns next week, but today we were cleaning house for after church company—a potluck for other new “international” families. The kids enjoyed soccer, hacky sack and wii while the adults shared stories of how we all got here and what treasures, challenges, and tips we’ve discovered in our few days here.
I think many of us will share the same Sunday after meeting routine: check out books from the Friends’ (Quaker) Library (today I got Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince for Heidi and Lincoln to reread before they see the movie and picked out an Alice Hoffman novel for myself) and then stop at the Cheese Factory to pick up dairy products for the week including milk that comes out of a spicket (you bring your own container)—very delicious.
It has been a lovely day of healing, fellowship, new friends, AND on the way home from meeting, I saw three white faced monkeys up in the trees. My first monkeys!
Thank You God for this day.
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Initial Suprises of Life in Costa Rica
I know we’re not in St. Louis anymore when…
• The grocery store runs out of peanut butter (and when it does come in, it’s tiny jars of crunchy)
• The entire frozen foods section is only about 12 feet long
• Some taxis don’t have seat belts
• You can’t flush toilet paper in your bathrooms.
• None of the sinks in the house have hot water (you have to boil water for dishes; however, the showers do have individual instant water heaters).
• Electrical outlets aren’t grounded (Crocs and hot pads help avoid shocks while cooking).
• There isn’t a single closet to keep your clothes in.
Actually, other than the safety hazards, I appreciate (most of the time) these daily reminders that we are in another country and that in the United States we take so much for granted.
Things I’m enjoying about Costa Rica…
• The bright colors—interior and exterior walls (our house is white, but it has a bright blue roof and fence; the master bedroom walls are a pale lavender and the living room a light green), fabrics used in decorating (our comforters are so cheerful), the yellow little pitcher and cups we bought and the blue glass bowls, and even the hot pink or blue striped grocery bags (they’re really strong too).
• The gorgeous flowers growing everywhere including our own yard—lilies and hydrangeas (we’ve enjoyed fresh rosemary and lemons from the yard too).
• Waking up to roosters crowing and listening to the bell birds “sing” all day with their unusual clanking and squeaky hinge sounds.
• The sound of rain on our tin roof and the wind in the trees.
• The neighborhood dogs who escort us on our walks (Bogie loves having so many dog friends).
• People being so kind about my limited Spanish, and learning/using a little more of the language each day.
• The gorgeous view all the way to the Pacific Ocean seen from the Cloud Forest School and enroute to the Quaker meeting.
• Delight in finally getting something to “go through” on the internet (my apologies to all who haven’t gotten personal responses to comments and emails, but thank you so much for them!).
• The grocery store runs out of peanut butter (and when it does come in, it’s tiny jars of crunchy)
• The entire frozen foods section is only about 12 feet long
• Some taxis don’t have seat belts
• You can’t flush toilet paper in your bathrooms.
• None of the sinks in the house have hot water (you have to boil water for dishes; however, the showers do have individual instant water heaters).
• Electrical outlets aren’t grounded (Crocs and hot pads help avoid shocks while cooking).
• There isn’t a single closet to keep your clothes in.
Actually, other than the safety hazards, I appreciate (most of the time) these daily reminders that we are in another country and that in the United States we take so much for granted.
Things I’m enjoying about Costa Rica…
• The bright colors—interior and exterior walls (our house is white, but it has a bright blue roof and fence; the master bedroom walls are a pale lavender and the living room a light green), fabrics used in decorating (our comforters are so cheerful), the yellow little pitcher and cups we bought and the blue glass bowls, and even the hot pink or blue striped grocery bags (they’re really strong too).
• The gorgeous flowers growing everywhere including our own yard—lilies and hydrangeas (we’ve enjoyed fresh rosemary and lemons from the yard too).
• Waking up to roosters crowing and listening to the bell birds “sing” all day with their unusual clanking and squeaky hinge sounds.
• The sound of rain on our tin roof and the wind in the trees.
• The neighborhood dogs who escort us on our walks (Bogie loves having so many dog friends).
• People being so kind about my limited Spanish, and learning/using a little more of the language each day.
• The gorgeous view all the way to the Pacific Ocean seen from the Cloud Forest School and enroute to the Quaker meeting.
• Delight in finally getting something to “go through” on the internet (my apologies to all who haven’t gotten personal responses to comments and emails, but thank you so much for them!).
Friday, July 10, 2009
We're All Here Together
Dear Friends,
We’re here…blessed by the grace of God abundantly expressed by so many of you. Thank you to Mom, Susan, Cindy, Penny and Dave who came to the rescue when our vacuum cleaner broke the day before our departure, to Blair for helping Heidi with last minute errands and cleaning, and to John for taking care of putting on the car license plate and lawnmower oil.
And, a special thank you to all of you who prayed. I was so touched when I met a colleague in Walmart a few days before we left who said we were on her calendar for July 7th to include us in her prayers that day. And I know friends from the Lafayette Square Society were thinking about us as we travelled—especially our pets. Getting the pets here has given me unquestionable proof that God is Mind and Love and also helped me see that actions--the expressing of gratitude, trust, and obedience--are also prayers.
Our golden retriever Bogie and our cats Piko and Caleb are family and an important parts of home for us. One of my first web searches in exploring Costa Rica as a destination for our family sabbatical was researhgin travel with pets. There is no quarantine on dogs and cats entering the country, and at first glance, bringing them with us looked like it would be simple enough. Wrong.
If you have a small pet, like our cats, you pay a fee, buy the right size carrier, and can easily get a confirmed reservation on a flight. A large dog is a different story. I think I called every airline that flys to Costa Rica—some twice—trying to find a reasonable arrangement for Bogie. Continental is the only airline that flys pets as cargo in the summer, but they take great care to keep them the proper temperature, exercise them on layovers, etc.
However, July is a peak travel season to Latin America, and when I first began investigating flights, the airline policy was that pets could only fly standby. Bogie would fly from St. Louis to Houston and then to Costa Rica. There was one only one flight to Houston each day with the properly sized and air-conditioned cargo bay and because of rules pertaining to connecting flights, Bogie would have to stay overnight at Continental’s kennels in Houston. We couldn’t get Bogie on the standby list until 3 days before his flight, and even then he could only fly if the flights were less than 75% full. It could take several for days for there to be a space for each leg of his journey. But at least there was a way to get Bogie to Costa Rica; he likes being with other dogs at kennels, and we knew someone with a pet sitting service that would be willing to take Bogie to the airport day after day in St. Louis, if needed. So we booked ourselves on a less expensive airlines and trusted that somehow the “Red Sea” of regulations would part for Bogie.
In mid-April, I decided to call back to get a clear definition of “3 days ahead of time,” and found that the rules had just changed in our favor. Continental was now guaranteeing one cargo pet per flight. No more standby, and you could make the reservation beginning 12 days ahead of time. Yeah! This was progress. (In fact as the rules now stand, you must make the reservation more than 3 days ahead of time.)
I knew that Piko and possibly Bogie needed to have their teeth cleaned before we went to Costa Rica, and made an appointment for the vet to look at them the afternoon after our Upper School graduation. The final week of school is crazy, and I kept wondering why I had made the appointment for that day, but I was too busy to call and change it. That morning, I searched online for “rules for taking pets to Costa Rica” so I could print the shot requirements for the vet in preparing for a future appointment. In addition to printing the official regulations from the embassy website, I also looked at several personal postings and learned that while the embassy regulations say that all shots need to be given less than 30 days before travel, rabies shots have to be more than 30 days (a rule the airlines later confirmed to be true). So, all the pets got their rabies shots that day—had the appointment been the next week, it would had been too late.
The personal postings I read also raised other questions which led to another timely call to the airlines. Once again the rules had recently changed. I was able to make Bogie’s reservation right then (not just 12 days out); however, if you didn’t fly with your pet, you were required to hire a broker (approximately $600 on top of the airfare) to coordinate the pet’s travel with the airlines, and import fees had increased to $250. So we changed Mike’s reservation to have him fly with Bogie (who could now get a connecting flight the same day) and swallowed the extra fees, grateful that we knew Bogie had a space on the desired day.
From the personal postings we also learned that we needed to have the pets’ certificates of health stamped by a USDA vet in Jefferson City, Missouri—another important detail not clear on the embassy site or in information from the airlines or vet.
The story doesn’t end there. (I’m sorry this is long, but each step is such wonderful proof to me of God’s care.) We took Piko in for his teeth cleaning (Bogie ended up not needing it), and the day after he came home, one of his eyes was infected. The ointment the vet gave us wasn’t doing any good, and the day for the pets’ exams for the certificates of health was drawing near; so we decided to stop using the medicine and asked a Christian Science practitioner to treat the situation with prayer. I really struggled with faith and trust. The morning of our vet visit, the Bible verse, “He performeth the thing that is appointed for me” spoke to me in a new way-- God would perform the appointment for Piko. Although Piko’s third eyelid still covered a portion of his eye, it was not at all inflamed, and we received the necessary certificate of health.
We also asked a Christian Science practitioner (THANK YOU!) to pray with us for the pets during our flights. Piko did great the whole time. Knowing that Caleb didn’t like being in his crate and wanting to be kind to fellow travelers, the vet had given us a pill to calm him. It didn’t work. Caleb meowed and pawed to get out of the crate during the whole flight. Fortunately, he was underneath a family with loud children, and his meows weren’t noticed much by others, but he clearly wasn’t a happy camper. So, I checked in with the practitioner between flights, and she reminded us that Caleb hadn’t left the kingdom of heaven and agreed to continue praying. He was calm and only meowed a few times on the next flight as well as on our four hour van trip to Monteverde the next day. For Caleb—truly amazing!
Bogie’s adventures continued the day of travel too. The airlines had told us that there needed to be three inches of clearance in the crate above his head, and we’d measured it carefully. (And a bigger crate wouldn’t fit on the small plane between St. Louis and Houston anyway.) But when Mike got to the airport, they were concerned that the crate was too small and weren’t going to let Bogie fly. Finally they agreed to take out the crate pad and let Bogie fly. Then, their flight out of Houston was delayed. The delay, however, turned out to be ablessing. Because they arrived in Costa Rica so late, Bogie was delivered to the baggage area rather than to the cargo facility. As baggage, we didn’t have to pay the anticipated import fees. Like the cats, Bogie was treated as a family member, not a commodity.
The pets seem to appreciate how special it is to be here with us. They love the cooler weather. In our smaller, one story house it is easier to keep an eye on all of us. Tico dogs usually live outdoors and are very sociable. Bogie has made many new friends—the trio of dogs that greets us on our walks and the two that share our back yard fence. Bogie has accompanied us to outdoor cafes and loves rolling in our grass.
We’re all here together…and you’re here with us in our hearts.
Gracias amigos,
Maria
We’re here…blessed by the grace of God abundantly expressed by so many of you. Thank you to Mom, Susan, Cindy, Penny and Dave who came to the rescue when our vacuum cleaner broke the day before our departure, to Blair for helping Heidi with last minute errands and cleaning, and to John for taking care of putting on the car license plate and lawnmower oil.
And, a special thank you to all of you who prayed. I was so touched when I met a colleague in Walmart a few days before we left who said we were on her calendar for July 7th to include us in her prayers that day. And I know friends from the Lafayette Square Society were thinking about us as we travelled—especially our pets. Getting the pets here has given me unquestionable proof that God is Mind and Love and also helped me see that actions--the expressing of gratitude, trust, and obedience--are also prayers.
Our golden retriever Bogie and our cats Piko and Caleb are family and an important parts of home for us. One of my first web searches in exploring Costa Rica as a destination for our family sabbatical was researhgin travel with pets. There is no quarantine on dogs and cats entering the country, and at first glance, bringing them with us looked like it would be simple enough. Wrong.
If you have a small pet, like our cats, you pay a fee, buy the right size carrier, and can easily get a confirmed reservation on a flight. A large dog is a different story. I think I called every airline that flys to Costa Rica—some twice—trying to find a reasonable arrangement for Bogie. Continental is the only airline that flys pets as cargo in the summer, but they take great care to keep them the proper temperature, exercise them on layovers, etc.
However, July is a peak travel season to Latin America, and when I first began investigating flights, the airline policy was that pets could only fly standby. Bogie would fly from St. Louis to Houston and then to Costa Rica. There was one only one flight to Houston each day with the properly sized and air-conditioned cargo bay and because of rules pertaining to connecting flights, Bogie would have to stay overnight at Continental’s kennels in Houston. We couldn’t get Bogie on the standby list until 3 days before his flight, and even then he could only fly if the flights were less than 75% full. It could take several for days for there to be a space for each leg of his journey. But at least there was a way to get Bogie to Costa Rica; he likes being with other dogs at kennels, and we knew someone with a pet sitting service that would be willing to take Bogie to the airport day after day in St. Louis, if needed. So we booked ourselves on a less expensive airlines and trusted that somehow the “Red Sea” of regulations would part for Bogie.
In mid-April, I decided to call back to get a clear definition of “3 days ahead of time,” and found that the rules had just changed in our favor. Continental was now guaranteeing one cargo pet per flight. No more standby, and you could make the reservation beginning 12 days ahead of time. Yeah! This was progress. (In fact as the rules now stand, you must make the reservation more than 3 days ahead of time.)
I knew that Piko and possibly Bogie needed to have their teeth cleaned before we went to Costa Rica, and made an appointment for the vet to look at them the afternoon after our Upper School graduation. The final week of school is crazy, and I kept wondering why I had made the appointment for that day, but I was too busy to call and change it. That morning, I searched online for “rules for taking pets to Costa Rica” so I could print the shot requirements for the vet in preparing for a future appointment. In addition to printing the official regulations from the embassy website, I also looked at several personal postings and learned that while the embassy regulations say that all shots need to be given less than 30 days before travel, rabies shots have to be more than 30 days (a rule the airlines later confirmed to be true). So, all the pets got their rabies shots that day—had the appointment been the next week, it would had been too late.
The personal postings I read also raised other questions which led to another timely call to the airlines. Once again the rules had recently changed. I was able to make Bogie’s reservation right then (not just 12 days out); however, if you didn’t fly with your pet, you were required to hire a broker (approximately $600 on top of the airfare) to coordinate the pet’s travel with the airlines, and import fees had increased to $250. So we changed Mike’s reservation to have him fly with Bogie (who could now get a connecting flight the same day) and swallowed the extra fees, grateful that we knew Bogie had a space on the desired day.
From the personal postings we also learned that we needed to have the pets’ certificates of health stamped by a USDA vet in Jefferson City, Missouri—another important detail not clear on the embassy site or in information from the airlines or vet.
The story doesn’t end there. (I’m sorry this is long, but each step is such wonderful proof to me of God’s care.) We took Piko in for his teeth cleaning (Bogie ended up not needing it), and the day after he came home, one of his eyes was infected. The ointment the vet gave us wasn’t doing any good, and the day for the pets’ exams for the certificates of health was drawing near; so we decided to stop using the medicine and asked a Christian Science practitioner to treat the situation with prayer. I really struggled with faith and trust. The morning of our vet visit, the Bible verse, “He performeth the thing that is appointed for me” spoke to me in a new way-- God would perform the appointment for Piko. Although Piko’s third eyelid still covered a portion of his eye, it was not at all inflamed, and we received the necessary certificate of health.
We also asked a Christian Science practitioner (THANK YOU!) to pray with us for the pets during our flights. Piko did great the whole time. Knowing that Caleb didn’t like being in his crate and wanting to be kind to fellow travelers, the vet had given us a pill to calm him. It didn’t work. Caleb meowed and pawed to get out of the crate during the whole flight. Fortunately, he was underneath a family with loud children, and his meows weren’t noticed much by others, but he clearly wasn’t a happy camper. So, I checked in with the practitioner between flights, and she reminded us that Caleb hadn’t left the kingdom of heaven and agreed to continue praying. He was calm and only meowed a few times on the next flight as well as on our four hour van trip to Monteverde the next day. For Caleb—truly amazing!
Bogie’s adventures continued the day of travel too. The airlines had told us that there needed to be three inches of clearance in the crate above his head, and we’d measured it carefully. (And a bigger crate wouldn’t fit on the small plane between St. Louis and Houston anyway.) But when Mike got to the airport, they were concerned that the crate was too small and weren’t going to let Bogie fly. Finally they agreed to take out the crate pad and let Bogie fly. Then, their flight out of Houston was delayed. The delay, however, turned out to be ablessing. Because they arrived in Costa Rica so late, Bogie was delivered to the baggage area rather than to the cargo facility. As baggage, we didn’t have to pay the anticipated import fees. Like the cats, Bogie was treated as a family member, not a commodity.
The pets seem to appreciate how special it is to be here with us. They love the cooler weather. In our smaller, one story house it is easier to keep an eye on all of us. Tico dogs usually live outdoors and are very sociable. Bogie has made many new friends—the trio of dogs that greets us on our walks and the two that share our back yard fence. Bogie has accompanied us to outdoor cafes and loves rolling in our grass.
We’re all here together…and you’re here with us in our hearts.
Gracias amigos,
Maria
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Costa Rica...How It Began
Dear Kate,
In a few days, you leave for camp, and just over two weeks later, our family moves to Costa Rica for a year--an adventure that actually grew out of insights you shared from another drive to Colorado this past October (see Kate's Oct. 28, 2oo8 post "Thank you for hearing me...." at http://stoneriverstudio.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html). As you were driving, a friend called on your cell phone and commented on how happy you sounded. Reflecting on the conversation, you talked about hearing your voice in a figurative concert hall...in an atmosphere where you felt "free of past impressions or future expectations."
Last fall was challenging for Heidi. In her search for who she is and what she believes in , she was finding it difficult to live in our house on the campus of a conservative Christian school. Even though she was no longer a student there, she didn't feel like she had much mental breathing space. After your comments, I found my heart longing for Heidi to find a Carnegie Hall in which to hear the voice of her soul.
You have often written about God planting desires in our heart...and then answering them. A few days later, I got the clear message that, "You won't have to move off campus to meet Heidi's needs." "OK God," I replied. "I look forward to hearing what you have in mind." I didn't have to wait long.
Within a week, the outline of a family sabbatical to Monteverde was in place. Prior to this, we'd never seriously talked about living abroad, and none of us had ever been to Costa Rica. But Mike had occasionally mentioned his desire to travel as a family with a community service focus. I looked at several international community service websites and then investigated Christian Science schools abroad as possibilities for Lincoln (I knew we'd need to balance his love of home with Heidi's spirit of adventure), but nothing clicked until I glanced at a Monteverde Conservation League newsletter in my inbox. Several of Lincoln's classmates had traveled to Costa Rica; so the idea wasn't completely foreign to him. A web search quickly led me to two bilingual schools in Monteverde, and I learned that in this community founded by pacifist Quakers in thd 50s, you can get by with minimal Spanish--a good thing since Mike and I are just beginning to learn the language. And Costa Rica has no quarantine on pets. (Yes, the dog and cats are going with us.)
For now, I'll keep the story short and skip most of the details between last October and today. The school where we work has generously granted Michael and me leaves of absence for next year. The kids have been accepted at the Cloud Forest School (http.www.cloudforestschool.org) where we will be one of ten international families at the mostly native Tico school. We've arranged to rent out our house in St. Louis and are busy packing.
While the trip may have started out as an answer to our prayers for Heidi, we now see how in different ways it promises a needed practice room and concert hall for each family member--a place to learn more about who we are as individuals, a family, and as part of a global community. It is an anwered prayer for all of us.
I'll be thinking of you while you are at camp and will miss being a bunkhouse mom there this summer. As you look out at your snow capped peaks, I will gaze out over Costa Rica's tree-canopied mountain tops to the Pacific Ocean and hear the spirit of your voice in the wind.
Happy trails!
With gratitude and love,
Maria
In a few days, you leave for camp, and just over two weeks later, our family moves to Costa Rica for a year--an adventure that actually grew out of insights you shared from another drive to Colorado this past October (see Kate's Oct. 28, 2oo8 post "Thank you for hearing me...." at http://stoneriverstudio.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html). As you were driving, a friend called on your cell phone and commented on how happy you sounded. Reflecting on the conversation, you talked about hearing your voice in a figurative concert hall...in an atmosphere where you felt "free of past impressions or future expectations."
Last fall was challenging for Heidi. In her search for who she is and what she believes in , she was finding it difficult to live in our house on the campus of a conservative Christian school. Even though she was no longer a student there, she didn't feel like she had much mental breathing space. After your comments, I found my heart longing for Heidi to find a Carnegie Hall in which to hear the voice of her soul.
You have often written about God planting desires in our heart...and then answering them. A few days later, I got the clear message that, "You won't have to move off campus to meet Heidi's needs." "OK God," I replied. "I look forward to hearing what you have in mind." I didn't have to wait long.
Within a week, the outline of a family sabbatical to Monteverde was in place. Prior to this, we'd never seriously talked about living abroad, and none of us had ever been to Costa Rica. But Mike had occasionally mentioned his desire to travel as a family with a community service focus. I looked at several international community service websites and then investigated Christian Science schools abroad as possibilities for Lincoln (I knew we'd need to balance his love of home with Heidi's spirit of adventure), but nothing clicked until I glanced at a Monteverde Conservation League newsletter in my inbox. Several of Lincoln's classmates had traveled to Costa Rica; so the idea wasn't completely foreign to him. A web search quickly led me to two bilingual schools in Monteverde, and I learned that in this community founded by pacifist Quakers in thd 50s, you can get by with minimal Spanish--a good thing since Mike and I are just beginning to learn the language. And Costa Rica has no quarantine on pets. (Yes, the dog and cats are going with us.)
For now, I'll keep the story short and skip most of the details between last October and today. The school where we work has generously granted Michael and me leaves of absence for next year. The kids have been accepted at the Cloud Forest School (http.www.cloudforestschool.org) where we will be one of ten international families at the mostly native Tico school. We've arranged to rent out our house in St. Louis and are busy packing.
While the trip may have started out as an answer to our prayers for Heidi, we now see how in different ways it promises a needed practice room and concert hall for each family member--a place to learn more about who we are as individuals, a family, and as part of a global community. It is an anwered prayer for all of us.
I'll be thinking of you while you are at camp and will miss being a bunkhouse mom there this summer. As you look out at your snow capped peaks, I will gaze out over Costa Rica's tree-canopied mountain tops to the Pacific Ocean and hear the spirit of your voice in the wind.
Happy trails!
With gratitude and love,
Maria
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Day of Silence
Friday was the National Day of Silence, and this is the second year Heidi has been the leader in coordinating its observance at her school. However, this year they celebrated today instead of Friday so that the event’s significance wouldn’t get lost in the hubbub of Spirit Week. If you’re not familiar with Day of Silence, here is what participant badges said:
“Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence, a national youth movement bringing attention to the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by anti-LGBT bullying, name-calling and harassment. I believe that ending the silence is the first step toward building awareness and making a commitment to address these injustices. Think about the voices you are not hearing today. What are you going to do to end the silence?”
Last year, I promised myself that I would not let another Day of Silence pass without making my own contribution…without in some way helping Heidi share the message. I admire Heidi for challenging cultural paradigms on this issue and encouraging people to love not judge, for her willingness to speak up when people say “that’s so gay” and help them realize that they are stereotyping and insulting many loving, courageous people, whose desires and motives are really no different from yours or mine.
Heidi has a t-shirt that says “Love knows no gender.” I like to remind myself that God causes love—that He is the only source of the love and affection in our relationships with others. Perhaps someday, if we all spend a little more time seeing and appreciating God in every expression of tenderness and kindness rather than trying to categorize affection, then Day of Silence will become unnecessary.
Thank you, Heidi, for repeatedly reminding me to think beyond my own little world with my prayers and actions. You are making a difference!
“Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence, a national youth movement bringing attention to the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by anti-LGBT bullying, name-calling and harassment. I believe that ending the silence is the first step toward building awareness and making a commitment to address these injustices. Think about the voices you are not hearing today. What are you going to do to end the silence?”
Last year, I promised myself that I would not let another Day of Silence pass without making my own contribution…without in some way helping Heidi share the message. I admire Heidi for challenging cultural paradigms on this issue and encouraging people to love not judge, for her willingness to speak up when people say “that’s so gay” and help them realize that they are stereotyping and insulting many loving, courageous people, whose desires and motives are really no different from yours or mine.
Heidi has a t-shirt that says “Love knows no gender.” I like to remind myself that God causes love—that He is the only source of the love and affection in our relationships with others. Perhaps someday, if we all spend a little more time seeing and appreciating God in every expression of tenderness and kindness rather than trying to categorize affection, then Day of Silence will become unnecessary.
Thank you, Heidi, for repeatedly reminding me to think beyond my own little world with my prayers and actions. You are making a difference!
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