Follow up....

Well, I realize that it might appear that I fell off the face of the earth or something because I stopped posting to this blog all of a sudden, but I assure you that I am back in the USA in one piece (if only significantly thinner).  The four weeks that followed my last post were outstandingly busy.  First, I was able to expand my English classes significantly.  I started conversation classes with the guys who has been studying with me and a new grammar class for the guys who wanted to get started.  I was also able to start a grammar class with the girls.  Secondly, my work in the woodshop really picked up.  One day I just realized how many projects I had committed to and how little time I had left.  My biggest project of the summer was the bookcase that I built with Edwin (one of the pequeños), but there were also lots of other little projects that I worked on.  Lastly, we also had some visitors, fiestas, and trips which also took up a bunch of time, but were certainly well worth it.  Among those were a trip to the Pacific Ocean on the west coast of El Salvador.  That definitely qualified as an adventure.  We also had the chance to visit San Salvador (the capital) and to celebrate mass in the chapel in which Archbishop Romero was assassinated in 1980.  That was really a beautiful experience.

There have been several challenges to returning to the US after spending ten weeks in El Salvador.  The first is that I obviously miss being there with the kids.  On the day before I left they had kind of a little farewell for me, and I told them that I would never forget them.  And I haven't.  Obviously, there were certain kids with whom I had built friendships over the course of the summer.  It was hard to say goodbye to them, but in general I really do miss all of the children there - both the ones who became good friends and the ones who just loved to give me a hard time at every turn.  

The second challenge was simply to readjust to life in the US again.  I won't try to pretend for a moment that I was living out in the jungle on the brink of survival or something, but it was definitely more difficult than living here.  Things that we regularly take for granted (e.g. hot water, being able to choose what you eat, washing machines, cars, etc.) were non-existent in the lives of these children, and I feel richer for having shared in some of them with them.  There is nothing good about poverty, but the idea of living a simple life is something that I think most Americans can benefit from.  You experience a certain level of freedom by living without too much stuff.  I guess that I can kind of sum it up by saying "We're too rich, and they're too poor (generally speaking)."

Lastly, I suppose that it is difficult for me to switch out of a reality in which I was very active in making a difference in the daily lives of other people into life in the seminary again.  The two are similar in that they both run on ridiculously full schedules, but they differ in the role I am able to play.  In El Salvador I was somewhat unique, being only one of two American volunteers.  I taught and led in a unique way that was really life-giving for me.  At the seminary I return to being one among many - a student who still has much to learn about the priesthood.  Both of these dynamics are good, and I suppose that's why priestly preparation is structured as it is.  I'm certain that I would at least go crazy (if not lose my vocation) if all we did was go to school.  The further I go on the more I realize that life is a continuum of changes and that our level of happiness has a lot to do with our readiness and willingness to respond to them.

 Looking toward the future, I know that I will return to El Salvador at some point.  In fact, that was the biggest question I got from the kids the week before I left - "When are you coming back?"  It was also very encouraging to have the kids ask me to come back and celebrate Mass for them when I'm a priest (which I certainly plan on doing).  As I was leaving, I received some of the nicest and most heartfelt cards and notes that I have ever received in my life.  I went to El Salvador to learn how to love, and I left there being loved by others.

Thank you for reading, and may God bless you.

If you would like to contribute to NPH, please visit their website at www.nph.org

The Real Test

There is much news to report from the home front this week.  First of all, as alluded to in my previous post, I went to Santa Ana with two of the kids here last Sunday.  One of them, Samuel, has a foster family that owns a bakery and he goes to help them on their day off.  I got invited to come along and experience the fun.  We started off by leaving the orphanage at 6:30 in the morning and then walking down a muddy road for an hour in order to get to the main road.  Then we caught a bus to get into the city.  After a while we hopped off of that bus and then onto another one.  Finally we showed up in right neighborhood without incident.  Upon walking in the front door and meeting the family we were promptly sat down at the table and stuffed full of bread, coffee, and Salvadoran tamales.  Breakfast of champions right there.  After that, we were off to the back of the house, which really is a very large garage made out of sheet metal.  The bake shop is in the back.  My experiences with baking or bakeries have involved kitchen disasters and what I have seen at my local Jewel or Dominick's.  Normally when you think of bakeries, you think of an army of woman all clad it white outfits standing in a spotless room full of shiny stainless steel machinery.  That was not the case for me.  

There was a big trough in the center of the room in which Samuel's foster father threw all the ingredients.  He then proceeded to put lard on his arms up to his elbows and then jump right in there mixing it all together into the dough.  Apparently I didn't look occupied enough so he told me to throw some lard on my arms too and to get in there.  Wow, that was a lot of dough.  After that he ran the dough through this ancient looking rolling machine to smooth it out.  Then we got cracking on the actual bread making.  You should have seen me trying to rip off pieces of dough and then make them into exactly the right shape.  It was ridiculously hard.  If anyone ever tells you that bread making is easy....they're lying.  It's an art.

Anyhow, we did that for a few hours, and I finally got the hang of it after a while.  Before I knew it, it was time to get fed again.  This time it was some outrageously good fried chicken and pasta combo.  Tasty.  Then we were out the door (in the rain) to the mall.  The other guys ate some pizza and then got the bus back to the orphanage.  I hung out there for a while drinking coffee and reading a book - two of my favorite hobbies.  I also had to kill a few hours before I could meet up with Fr. Ron, Fr. Larry who was visiting, and Evin, my fellow volunteer, for dinner in the city.  It was a great day, most especially because I was able to get a first-hand (literally) feel for what the life is really like here.   You don't really get to know people or understand their experience until you have shared some real time with them.

Also happening this week was Fr. Ron's departure to Mexico for a week for the annual NPH board meeting.  That left me in charge of a lot of liturgies while he was gone.  Basically he asked me to do what is know as a Celebration in the Absence of a Priest, which is what the Church legitimately allows a lay person to do when it is impossible to have a priest celebrate the Eucharist.   It basically looks like the first half of the regular Mass.  I was up for the first time this past Wednesday.  I gave my reflection ("homily") on the Gospel in Spanish to the Kindergarden through Third Graders.  I was happy to have a easy audience to start with.  My Spanish teacher even came too and gave me some great feedback.  

Today, Saturday, in the evening is when the kids normally go to Mass.  So I was up again today, except with all the kids in the whole orphanage, about 500 in total.  I gave a pretty long reflection about today's Gospel, which was about the Jesus' parable of the sower and the seed.  I had to use my notes for this one because there were a lot of ideas I wanted to be able to explain clearly.  The only problem was that fact that I nearly sweat right through the alb I was wearing.  Part of it was the heat, and I suppose the other part was some nervousness....  All in all it went fine, and I was very happy for having been able to put my Spanish to good use.

Major photo credits go to my fellow volunteer, Evin, who snapped the picture of me (top of the post) giving my reflection ("homily") without me even noticing. 

Also, as an explanation, only a priest or a deacon can give a homily.  Lay people give "reflections" on the readings in the course of the Church's liturgies.  I hope that clears up some confusion.  I still think that most of the kids are confused here, though, as many of them are still calling me "Padre Tomás."  O well, soon enough, I suppose.  Pray for me.

Ambrose Burnside Conquers El Salvador

I'm certainly nowhere near legendary when it comes to ridiculous antics, but I certainly enjoy taking advantage of opportunities when they present themselves.  This past week i was afforded just such an opportunity.  My roommate and fellow volunteer, Evin, and myself had been having a beard growing contest for about three weeks - much to the protest of everyone living in this country.  Let's just say that beards aren't "in" here in El Salvador.  Anyway, we decided that this contest had gone on long enough and that we ought to have a little fun.  We figured, "What better way to finish off two ugly beards than to transform them into a handlebar mustache and giant sideburns Ambrose Burnside style?"  We made the grand transformation right before dinner one night and then, complete with aviator sunglasses, went and sat ourselves down on the girls' side of the cafeteria.  There were many laughing (and confused) faces.  Many pictures were taken and then these antiquated facial adornments were promptly shaved off.  It's always fun to change things up once in a while.

Last night, Fr. Ron, the priest in charge here, threw a nice 4th of July party at his house here.  Evin and myself were charged with grilling the burgers.  There were delicious cold beers and American potato salad.  It was the first American food that I had seen in the last five weeks, and I was thrilled to see it (and eat it and drink it.)  There is also a retired priest from Chicago visiting NPH this week.  He works at the college seminary in Chicago as a spiritual director.  It was great to sit down and trade stories within three generations of priests and seminarians.  There is so much wisdom to be learned from those who have lived the life of the priesthood for so many years.  

Tomorrow I'll be going with Samuel (one of the kids here) to Santa Ana to make bread with his foster family.  From what I've heard, it should be quite an experience.  Report to follow....

Santa Ana

On Sunday I made the big journey into the city of Santa Ana with Edwin, one of the older kids here at the orphanage. We met at the front gate at 7:15 to get a ride up to the road to catch a bus, but there were too many older people there so we had to yield to them and walk the road instead. The bus caught up with us when we had just about reached the end of the road from the orphanage, about thirty minutes later. We rode into the city and popped into the cathedral first to get a glimpse. Mass was going on, and we stayed for a little bit. I'm still working on understanding Spanish spoken through a microphone. From how poorly I did understanding the bishop's homily, I would say that I still have some work to do.

After ducking out of the cathedral we went on a hunt for pupusas, one of the typical foods of El Salvador. Since it was Sunday most of the pupuserias (i.e. places where pupusas are sold) were closed along with almost everything else. We finally found a lady on the sidewalk making pupusas on propane fired griddle. Pupusas come in two basic styles – cheese and revuelto, which is a mix of beans, cheese, and other stuff. To make them the lady took handful of dough, flattened it, shoved some revuelto in the middle, closed it up, and then dropped in on the grill in a pile of grease. A few minutes later we were happily sitting at a table on a street in the middle of Santa Ana eating pupusas covered in spicy cole slaw and tomato sauce. I realize that it doesn't sound like the most appetizing combo, and I myself wasn't convinced at the outset. One bite was all the convincing that I required, though. ¡Qué rico! We washed it all down with some coffee that was simmering on a stove. I am going to have to learn how to make those things before I get out of this country so I can continue enjoying a piece of Salvador back in the US. (For more info on pupusas click here.  Also, pupusas shown in picture are not the actual pupusas that I consumed.  They were considerably greasier than those shown...)

Filled up and properly caffeinated we grabbed a bus to Metro Centro, which could be easily mistaken for an American mall. It's like a little taste of the suburbs. The main purpose of this visit was the movie theatre. After minimal discussion we decided on seeing “Hulk.” With only $3.00 to get in it beats the Marcus Cinemas price any day (and especially on Thursdays when it's only a buck and half!) Seeing movies in Spanish is actually a good exercise for me to practice listening and keeping up with dialogue. I think I got about 75% of Hulk, most of which was explosions and shooting anyway, so I pretty much got what was going on.

Metro Centro comes complete with a supermarket inside, so we dropped in to pick up some necessities. Ramen noodles, chips, candy, fruit, yogurt, hot sauce, you know, the usual. With a full backpack of goodies riding on my sunburnt shoulders we were ready for the journey back. Two busses later we were standing at the top of the road back to the orphanage. We walked for a while before a pickup stopped for us. We rode along for a while in the back and then we finished the last leg on foot. It was nice to get to know Edwin a little bit better and to spend a little time away from the daily routine of the orphanage. Part of coming to understand the kids here also has to do with understanding the situations from which they come. Although a few trips to Santa Ana won't do that for me, it will at least help me to form a context in which I can begin to understand the way of life here.

Anniversary

These past few days have been full of fun and excitement, mainly because this weekend Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos El Salvador celebrated its ninth anniversary. Nine years ago this place started with twelve kids and one house in the city of Santa Ana. Now there are almost 500 kids and a whole campus full of new, beautiful buildings. As I may have written previously, this orphanage is only one of nine orphanages of a larger organization of the same name. The first house was founded in Mexico in 1954 by Fr. William Wasson, an American priest who died only a few years ago. The director of this house in El Salvador grew up as an orphan in the house in Mexico and came here to start another orphanage at the request of Fr. Wasson.

In what has become an annual tradition, all the kids get a day off of school and go to a water park about 45 minutes away from the orphanage to celebrate the anniversary of the founding of their home. This past Friday eight busses pulled into the orphanage and everyone piled in. After a bumpy ride in a beat up school bus that wasn't designed to handle the hills we were taking (not in a million years...) we took that water park by storm.  Then, after pumping all the kids full of sugar with a brief snack, they were all set loose on the unsuspecting patrons of the establishment. If you need to form a mental picture, just imagine your local American water park only with less order, safety, and supervision and you will have seen “Termos del Rio.”

I spent the morning checking out the various parts of the park, including the awesome water slides, with a couple different groups of kids. Pretty soon, though, it was time for everyone's favorite pastime – soccer, or as it's known here – fúbol. The first game was between the adult male staff and the high school boys. Imagine this – they even asked me to play on the adult team. They obviously hadn't seen my performance in American little-league sports... Anyway, we got out butts kicked. The score was something like 7-1. I actually lost count after a while. To my credit, though, I attempted to make a header and almost got my head knocked off. I also managed to succeed in playing defense a couple times, sending the ball flying downfield to our waiting offense.

There was another game after ours, which I was quite content to watch from the sidelines. After that finished, all the kids got rounded up and put into their usual lines according to age to say grace before eating lunch. Fried chicken, bread, cole slaw, rice, cans of Coke, and ice cream bars were a welcome treat to a bunch of kids who are accustomed to a daily diet of tortillas, black beans, sour cream and powdered milk. I, too, was thankful for the change.

An interesting note about El Salvador is that some of the kids are what they call “chele.” That means they are born in El Salvador but very well look like they could have come from a farm in Iowa they are so white. So, after lunch, I had to get out the sunscreen again to protect my Irish self and my Salvadoran look-alikes. In spite of our most valiant efforts we all still got a little sunburned, which tells me that either the sun is stronger here than in Chicago or that I have already lost more hair than I thought. You can be the judge.

At any rate, all the kids had a blast with a full day of fun in the sun and got right back to playing soccer with any available ball as soon as they got off of the bus. Being able to spend the day at the pool with kids who are only guaranteed two such pool day every year made me considerably more thankful for having been able to go swimming all summer long during my childhood in the U.S. Also, I was with a group of three 10 year olds during the afternoon. We braved the wave pool, visited the hot spring, and went down the slides so many times that I thought I was going to lose that fired chicken. By the end of the day it was obvious to me how thankful they were to have someone who wanted to play with them and pay attention to them. That may well be the biggest lesson that I learn this summer, that is, how to be someone that these kids can look up to.

Salvadoran Sunsets

I don't really have any good stories to tell right now, so I'm just going to show you a picture of the kind of awesome sunsets we get down here.....when it's not pouring rain, that is.  I have a great backyard here.

Guatemala and Father´s Day

There has been a lot going on in the last ten days or so. Besides the day to day happenings of NPH and continuing to get used to life here, there have been some special events too. First, Fr. Ron (the director of NPH Central America) invited me to go to the NPH house in Guatemala to celebrate their Quinceañera last weekend.  The five hour ride to Guatemala went by in flash. The beautiful, green mountains kept my attention and we climbed in altitude towards our destination. We also went through Guatemala City (aka ¨Guat¨), the most developed city in Central America. I never thought I would see a Taco Bell here, but I was proven wrong in Guat. Upon arriving at the house in Guatemala we got a warm welcome and a full tour of the place. They have fewer children than in El Salvador (about 350), but they seem to have a much bigger operation. All of their workshops (bakery, woodshop, metal fabrication, sewing) are up and running and have teachers so the kids can learn a trade while they are there. Also, there is a couple from Spain who is helping to develop a farm where they grow their own vegetables for food. They also have livestock. All of these things are still in the process of getting done in El Salvador. One of my goals for the summer is to at least put the woodshop in order before I go. Right now it looks like someone just backed up a dump truck to the door and dropped in a ton of stuff.

On Saturday morning Fr. Ron took a group of us to Antigua, which is a pretty popular tourist destination because of its nice, colonial buildings and parks.   (To the left you´ll see me standing under ¨El Arco¨.)  It really is a very beautiful city that thrives off of tourism.  I spent most of the morning just walking around the city and checking out its two churches and the open air market.  The whole group met up for an awesome Italian lunch and then we hit the road back to the orphanage to get ready for Mass.

The Quinceañera is a tradition that exists mainly in Mexico and Central America, from what I understand.  Basically, it consists of a Mass to bless a girl on her fifteenth birthday, the age considered to be the threshold to adulthood.  At the Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos houses they celebrate one such Mass each year for all the girls who turn 15 in that year.  There were 18 girls for the Mass in Guatemala and it was celebrated by the bishop of the diocese.  Fr. Ron gave the homily and did a great job.  Afterwards, all the girls did a special dance, and then we had a big old feast.  

On Sunday morning we headed back to El Salvador in a smooth four hour drive.  It was a great trip to Guatemala.  Sunday was also Father's Day in the US, and I was able to call both my Dad and my Grandad.  In El Salvador, Father's Day is always celebrated in June 17, regardless of what day of the week in falls on.  So, all the male staff at NPH (including me) went out to this awesome restaurant on a pier at Lake Coatepeque.  It's surrounded by mountains, including a volcano that I hope to climb before I'm out of this country.  I also discovered a new drink, called the "Michelada", which is basically a beer mixed with a fair bit of lime juice, Worcester sauce, salt, pepper, and ice.  It may sound gross, but it was a tasty treat.  Just so you're all ready, I'm making some of these when I get back.

In the evening, the kids put on Father's Day skits for everyone and then we had a big old dinner outside on the soccer field.  We finished up just in time to avoid the latest Salvadoran deluge too.

Being here this summer is an amazing opportunity for which I am thankful.  I will be the first to say that I do not find it easy to live and work in a different language, but I feel that I get a little better at it each day.  I miss everyone at home and look forward to writing some more (hopefully) interesting bits about my time here.

Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos

This summer I am living in El Salvador at a place known as Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos (NPH), or in English, “Our Little Brothers and Sisters.” It is an orphanage for about 500 children who come from various backgrounds; some are here because they have no family, others are here because their families fell apart because of poverty or some other reason. This is only one of nine houses that NPH runs. The other eight are located in Mexico and all throughout Central America and down to Bolivia.

NPH is an alternative to growing up on the street. Reports indicate that there are 11 million orphans in Central America. The mission of NPH is to try to break the cycle of poverty by providing some of these children with a safe place to grow up and an excellent education. I will have several roles here at NPH. Each day I will study Spanish myself from 7 – 11 in the morning with a teacher from Santa Ana, which is the nearest city. He walks 40 minutes each way to come and teach me every day. Also, I am supposed to be the Pastoral Care Minister here. While there is a priest here, my role is simply supposed to be to live and talk with the children about what goes on in their daily life. There is also a clinic here on campus, and I will visit the kids who have to stay in there for whatever reason. Lastly, with so many kids and so few resources, birthdays really aren't celebrated each day , but only about once a month for everyone who has their birthday in that month. So, I have been given a list of all the birthdays and I'll be passing out birthday greetings and candy to the kids on behalf on NPH.

Now for a little bit about how I got here...

I flew into San Salvador on Monday around noontime and was met by one of the employees from the NPH house, José Juan. He told me that I was going to get started working right away because we were going to pick up a donation. It seems that NPH runs mainly off of donations, and, according to José Juan, the businesses here in El Salvador usually donate to the home regularly. Well, to pick up this donation we drove around in circles and down busted-up roads in little shanty towns for about two and a half hours while Juan José made about sixty-five phone calls to someone who allegedly knew where this place was located. We finally found the place after realizing that the business had recently moved (and thus their address had changed) and that there were two different exits for the same town that went two totally different places. Also, it didn´t help that their building was located in the middle of a muddy field with no discernible road or exit off of the highway. Anyway, we drove up to the huge steel gate and were met by several fellows brandishing shotguns. After some negotiation, they told us we could come in to the parking lot for the donation. We then proceeded to wait in the parking lot for another hour and half while José Juan made another dozen phone calls trying to get these people to give us the donation they promised. By this time I was so tired that I passed out in the front seat of the van for about an hour or so. Finally they gave us a bunch of bacon, ham, yogurt, and cheese for the orphanage and we could go on our way.

From there it was another forty-five minutes drive to the outskirts of Santa Ana. Then we had to crawl down this narrow, rocky road for another twenty minutes or so before we finally reached the gate of NPH. We pulled up to another steel gate and were again met by some nice folks with guns. (Basically, the way José Juan explained it me, if you want to hold on to something in El Salvador you had better put a guy with gun in front of it.) I went over to Fr. Ron´s house (the Director for Central America) and met him and another priest from Chicago who is on sabbatical here. Then we hopped in his truck and took a drive around the campus. There is an office building, separate dorms for the boys, girls, and babies, and a clinic that´s open 24/7. They also run their own school here for the kids until they finish 9th grade. Then they have to go into Santa Ana for high school.

My room is in the boy´s dorm. I´m sharing it with another volunteer from Seattle. We live on the top floor of a very noisy building full of kids. Monday though Friday we wake up around 4:45am when the extremely loud bell goes off to wake up all the kids. Then we line up outside with the kids to say grace at around 5:15, and then we head over to breakfast. All the meals here consist of cup of hot milk, a plate of black beans with a fried egg on top, and a thick tortilla. It tastes pretty good, is agreeing with my stomach, and seems to be pretty predictable, so I can live with that. There is some variation, but for the most part you can plan on seeing those black beans every day.

I am excited about what this summer will hold. I found the first week difficult, but now the kids are getting to know me better and it's becoming easier to get to know them. I'm realistic about the challenges that I will face here, the least of those being the language issue. While this orphanage is good place to grow up, it's no substitute for one's own family. Learning how to help kids deal with that may be the hardest part.