A Tale of an SM
A Tale of an SM (or a few haha)
Sick and tired…of being sick and
tired:
I think the last few weeks nearly drove me insane. Between getting the all famous Dengue Fever, a visit from my parents, road blockades, gas shortages, canceled flights, new kids and so much more....it all is nearly impossible to keep up with. I have experienced intense sickness, luxury, and readaptation all in the same few weeks. It has been an unfortunate and unforgettable February to say the least.
On February 11, I suddenly started to
feel incredibly sick while teaching Sabbath School. I proceed to exit the classroom and walk to my bed. I was then bed ridden for nearly the next 86
hours. My sickness consisted of feeling like every bone, joint and muscle in my
back was being crushed at the same time. Dengue Fever attacks specific
parts of your body and creates intense pain in those unlucky areas. I had terrible
headaches, high fevers, and worst of all…I couldn’t take ibuprofen. In the
final days of the sickness, there are cases where your “platelets open” (not sure
what that means), but apparently it has to do with bleeding out…which is not
ideal, which is why I couldn't take ibuprofen.
Eventually Sean encouraged me to get my of bed and go to the hospital…to which I nearly didn’t make it to…just to find out that I caught the mosquito born, “dengue fever”. Of course, my parents happened to be visiting the next day.
Sean and I at the hospital. This was not my best moment.
My parents arrived after having to lug themselves through the roadblocks and heat of the Amazon just to find their sickly child barely able to walk over to greet them. After dropping off the incredible donations, we were transported to town. After a motorcycle ride that nearly made me pass out, I checked us into the hotel and we were finally comfortable. I proceeded to sleep practically non-stop for 4 days straight…of which I don’t remember at all…until I had to make an appearance on campus again.
*My sickness prevented many photos from being taken and didn't allow me to write for nearly the whole month, however I am back and better then ever now!*
We visited campus and played with the
boys until my meds wore off. I then had a fun time showing my parents how to hitch hike back to Rurre. Thankfully by this point all the
roadblocks were figured out and we didn’t have to deal with a intense walk
across a group of angry people.
My dad and I had planned for a few months to
surprise my mom with a visit to La Paz with them. Little did I know…I would be
recovering from one of the worst mosquito borne illnesses and the extra time together in La Paz allowed me to continue to recover. It also didn't hurt that La Paz was one of my
favorite cities.
On the plane to La Paz!
We ate good food, stayed in a
beautiful hotel and spent quality time together as a family. Sadly, the day of
my departure (Wednesday, Feb 21) came. I arrived at the airport at 7:00am with
plenty of time before my 8:30am departure. However after several issues with
“weather” and a 8 hour delay…the flight was cancelled.
During my time in the airport, I had
the chance to meet some incredible people. The tourists were from the
Netherlands, Germany and Switzerland. The airport provided a lot of time to
just talk and learn more about each other. In the end, we had a great time
getting to know different aspects of our different cultures and where we came
from. However, after the delays which culminated in cancelation, they all still
had to get to Rurre. After all, they had paid for tickets and tours already. It
was my time to shine.
Some friends in the airport.
All the tourists were beyond
frustrated. We waited 8 hours…for nothing to be done. Thankfully, a few people
had an idea of what to do. The Bus. This was one of the moments I have felt the
most useful in my life. I was able to help each person find the bus station,
get refunds from the airline and make plans in our town of Rurre. I was also
the main communicator as I understood the most Spanish of any of the tourists.
Thankfully, my parents were staying an extra night in La Paz, so all of this
meant I got to spend an extra night with them. So I simply rescheduled my
flight for 2 days later. Therefore, It was safe to say that I was there for a reason. I felt
helpful and walked out of the airport with a smile on my face…just to realize I
didn’t get any of their contact information.
I was disappointed. I just
met some incredible people and didn’t have any way of communicating with them…until
the next morning. While we waited, I told them all about the coffee shop Roots.
At 7:00am the next morning, I got a call on Instagram from the coffee shop in Rurre.
However, I was still sleeping. Thankfully, my “unreachable friends” were persistent
and got my Instagram from the coffee shop! They texted me and let me know that
they safely made it across the Andes mountains and into the jungle! I was ecstatic.
My new friends found a way to communicate with me and my instructions worked.
It felt great for something to go right for the first time in a while.
The next morning it was my parents time to
leave. Saying goodbye the first time was hard…but now I had to do it again just
over 24 hours later. We all talked in our room for a while before moving me to
a smaller hotel room. The hotel my dad chose happened to be one of the nicer hotels in La Paz in a beautiful part of town. It was surprising that when we walked
to the reception desk and asked how much my room would be for the night, the answer
was $55. Quite a different experience traveling down here in South America!
The final goodbye...see you all in 8 weeks.
I said goodbye to my parents and they made their way to Cusco, Peru. After this, I was at a loss. This was the first time I had been completely alone since August. I either always had kids running around me, tourists in a coffee shop with me, or someone to break the silence. In my hotel room, there was NOTHING to occupy my time except my computer and my phone. The term “silence is deafening” was made real to me for the first time in my life. However, the deafening silence was quite enjoyable for me. I spent the time either calling friends, or just scrolling on my phone with stable internet. I was in a king sized bed (that didn’t have a mosquito net) in a room that had a private bathroom and enough space to run and slide across the wooden floors…yea that was fun. However, the peace only lasted one night.
At 6:30 the next morning my taxi was waiting for me
and I had a boxed breakfast at the reception desk. I talked to my driver a bit
before arriving at the airport…to yet again another delayed flight. However,
this one was only delayed an hour and we finally flew to Rurrenabaque.
Getting back:
Arriving back to Rurrenabaque was
harder than I imagined it would be…I came from the “Ritz-Carlton” of Bolivia
back to the rainforest. *side note, it rained non-stop for the 4 days after I
arrived…and I didn’t have any clean clothes.* When I got back, I had to readapt to
a life that already took me so long to adapt to.
Since Friday, I have slept a maximum
of 4 hours each night (with the exception of my day off). We have several boys
who are very homesick and struggle to sleep at night. The older ones are easier
to deal with as my co-parent and I can have a short conversation with them
about the reasons they are here. They then go upstairs to their beds and go to sleep. However, with he little ones it is much more difficult.
One of my 6-year-olds, Joel, has
seriously been struggling with homesickness lately. All day he cries and all
night he whimpers. I found that if I am with him…and play some “Disney sleeping
music”, he will eventually go to sleep. The key to this is “eventually”. Each
time I put him to sleep it is around a 30-45 minute process, and this process
occurs 3 or 4 times per night. What hurts the most is seeing him suffer. He doesn’t
talk all that much, and when he does the only words that come out of his mouth
are, “Quiero mama”. (I want my mom). The reality is…he can’t see his mom outside
of Sundays for a few hours. His mom usually comes by, and he is always happy to
see her. However, when he returns, all he can think of is his mom. This makes
continuing with normal life rather difficult for him. Social services of Bolivia
sent his sister and brother to us a few years ago, and they have not given us
the ability to send the children back, so he is with us indefinitely.
Here's little Joel. He is usually such a happy guy.
Even though I have had a serious lack
of sleep over the last few days, the other SMs made it much more bearable. Sean
will come over in the afternoon to take the kids for an hour or so and Zoro and
I trade off time so we can rest. While life here can be difficult, I have
adapted back to the crazy schedule of this mission field and am prepared to spend
the remainder of my time here in dedication to these kids.
During the past week at 6:30pm, we have participated in “10 days of prayer” with our local church community. While it can be a pain to get all the kids ready and to the church at that specific time, it has been such a blessing to see the kids pray each day.
Our children know the
name of Jesus. They go to a school that has a bible class, live on a campus that
goes to church weekly and has an active pathfinder club and Sabbath school
classes. We have sunrise worships each day and bedtime songs with a story time
each night. All 13 boys in my house are prayed with on a nightly basis and
cared for all day. However, we rarely get to see them in the act of prayer.
During our week of
prayer, something cool happened. We tell everyone to get in groups. That’s it. To
be honest, it seems like our kids don’t like to pray out loud. They always like
when the volunteers pray for them. So I was rather surprised when all the kids
in my group started saying prayer requests, followed by each child saying a
prayer for the whole group. It makes me very happy to see the work we do being
shown in such a real-life way.
I write a prayer journal
of my own every night. I have found that the journal has started to steer away
from me and toward the kids. The interesting
thing is that when I first got here, the kids made me uneasy, therefor
I wrote about what I thought of the kids. Now my prayers are for the kids, instead
of about them. I have grown to see that what I think doesn’t matter as much as
how these kids feel. If Otto doesn’t want to take a shower…I shouldn’t get
upset with him. He just needs time. The prayers I pray have helped me be more
patient with what is happening around me.
Please continue to pray
for our kids and Familia Feliz. While seeing Jesus in such a strong way is
encouraging, it is also apparent that the Devil wants to disrupt our work in
many ways. Thank you all for your words of encouragement, they stick with me every
day!
Photos from the last few weeks!
Being an SM:
"I'm a 20 year old volunteer at
an orphanage/boarding school in the small town called Rurrenabaque, Bolivia."
The sentence above has placed me in
some unique conversations with people from around the world. Being from
Orlando, Florida…I am rather used to tourists. However, not the kind that tend
to travel to our little part of the Amazon. The cool thing about where we are
located is that the only way to get here is to TRULY search and find it.
Rurrenabaque isn’t just a simple google search away. You need to talk to
people, make a friend, and THEN do all the research necessary to have the
chance to visit the “Gateway to the Amazon.”
All of this means that most of the tourists we get in Rurrenabaque are from all walks of life. I typically spend my days off sitting at our only coffee shop and simply waiting for the next group of tourists to walk in and have a seat. Most of the time, it is a group of French or German tourists that don’t speak a lick of English (or don’t want to). However, on occasion there is a group that is more then happy to tell the stories of how they ended up in Rurrenabaque (Rurre).
Student Missionary: A student that took the opportunity to go where help (physical, mental, spiritual) is needed. -Collin Standard Dictionary
Being a missionary carries a variety
of titles. At Familia Feliz, the simplest title is “house parent”. We wake up,
prep the kids for the day and deal with any troubles that come up…just as any
parent would do. The exception is that there are 16 people under one roof
instead of 4. My daily mission work is to fulfil the tasks of being a parent
for my boys.
I have taken pride in the work that
we do. It is fun for me now and a part of life that I am used to. Now, I see
Jesus in ways beyond just our campus.
On a weekly basis, there are new
people that visit Rurre. At the coffee shop Roots, there is always a new
opportunity to share the message of our mission to a group of people that may
not have ever encountered people willing to do the work we do.
My goal is not to preach the gospel
to each visitor. While I care about the Word and how it can lead someone’s
life, I recognize that most of our visitors feel drained by this spiritual
practice. Visitors of Rurre like to see experience and hear a story from recent
times. This is how I have learned to connect with people.
I am not only telling a silly story of how one
of my boys is learning to swim. I am also explaining to them how Jesus can be
experienced anywhere in the world. Not only in the church near their
neighborhood. But also out here in the Amazon.
The chance to meet new
people and hear their stories has made me see life from many different
perspectives. I have appreciated every conversation that I have been a part of
and pray for more every day. Getting to know the different lifestyles of the
people who live around the world has opened my eyes in so many ways.
What I am living in right
now is not normal for me. This is not the life I plan on living for the rest of
my days. However, for everyone in Rurre, there is nothing wrong with how they spend
their time here in this jungle. The hardship and struggle that I feel so often,
is a normal aspect of living in this area.
My boys have no idea what
situation I come from. They probably think that I am a professional parent that
struggles with Spanish on occasion. Little do they know…I am just a college
student that has an interest in service and in doing hard things.
My prayer isn’t that I
can be a professional house parent. It isn’t that I speak fluent Spanish when I
leave (though that would be nice). It isn’t that I learn to make the perfect empanada.
It is simply that I provide a worthwhile life for these boys before I return
home. I try not to think about returning home all the time, but it slips into my mind quite often. I find myself thinking about planes, Star Wars, my mom’s rigatoni pasta with garlic and broccoli or many of the other things that I miss. Then I have to refocus on the 13
faces that I get to take care of on a daily basis.
Thank you for keeping up
with my stories down here in Bolivia. I would love to write all the time and
share every hard, sad and silly moment that I have with these kids. But my days
off just aren’t long enough.
Keep praying for these
boys and our experiences down here in Bolivia. Every prayer is felt more then
you know.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
16 Rejoice always,
17 pray continually,
18 give thanks in all circumstances;
for this is God’s will for you in
Christ Jesus.
Comments
Post a Comment