8 days spent in any country is by no means long enough to drink in your surroundings, process the sights, smells, and sounds experienced, nor is it a long enough to begin to process the questions that begin to arise when put in a new environment.

El Salvador was as beautiful as it has ever been. The mosquitoes were at a minimum, the heat while still annoyingly humid was not completely oppressive, and oh how my mom, friends, and I were welcomed and embraced by the people.

My time in El Salvador was a blink of an eye, almost as if it didn't happen. A day ago I was lying on the tile floor of my sister in law's house trying to find some relief from the heat, now I'm sitting in my little office at home with a fan pointed towards me, writing. I am happy to be in a dry place where I am not constantly sweating.

A day after arriving in San Salvador I thought to myself--I can move here. I can find a life for my family here, I can truly see it working out. That was a shocking moment for me because I fought that idea 2 years ago for the entire three months I lived there. I have always thought that I could return there to live as long as I was "called" from God. Is the fact that I am somehow more at peace with the idea such a calling?

I wrote previously about being nervous to return to David's country as his wife. All those feelings were quickly overturned when my sister in law threw her arms around me upon seeing me and threw my 2 year old niece in my arms who was born the first time I visited. She talked rapidly as we drove home catching me up on two years of having been gone.

Maria Rosa and her husband had taken off work that day to pick me up from the airport and spend the day with me. To us, that may not seem like a big thing. I can take off work whenever I want for the most part and still get paid for it. My family however does not have that perk. They don't work, they don't' get paid...Financial life is difficult there as well. They gave that up to be with me.

I took along a few books with me when I went. One was a Nouwen book. He writes:

Increasing prosperity has not made people more friendly toward one another. They're better off; but that new found wealth has not resulted in a new sense of community. I get the impression that people are more preoccupied with themselves and have less time for one another than when they didn't possess so much. There's more competivness, more envy, more unrest, and more anxiety. There's less opportunity to relax, to get together informally, and to enjoy the little things in life. Success has isolated a lot of people and made them lonely.

For being the wealthiest nation, America has a high concentration of miserable people. I have no hard stats to prove this, but perhaps the rate of depression meds that are handed out speak loudly enough, or the suicide rate, or the drug consumption levels of residents. Any time I have traveled to a third world country or a developing country I have witnessed people who work harder than I probably ever will but they know how to find joy in life.

El Salvador offered me a very special time with my mom who accompanied me on the adventure. My mom who has traveled a bit had never been to a country quite like El Salvador. It was a blessing to have her witness my husband's roots, sip coffee with his sisters, make tortillas with his aunt, and be able to climb into bed with her the night I had a fever and could not stop shivering. I think it was a bit frustrating for her that she never quite new what was going on or what we were going to do next, but that is the beauty of stepping outside one's own culture.

Jim Wallis writes in his book, Faith Works, "You won't really know yourself if you stay in the carefully constructed boxes of your life. Getting out of the house is actually the first step on a spiritual journey."

This idea of stepping out is very true to my own life. I can trace dramatic shifts in my thinking, priorities, and overall view of God back to moments of stepping into a world foreign to my own comfortable surroundings and ideologies.

The importance of the elderly is abundantly evident in the culture. David's grandmother, though in her early 90's, is very much the matriarch of this family. The mother of 9 or 10 (or maybe 11) children (I always lose count) and grandmother to innumerable more, she is adored and cared for by her children. She spends her days in a wheelchair in the outdoor courtyard as several of the 4 and 5 year old great grand-children who live with her run around. Her face has a thousand wrinkles that each have some story behind them. Her long grey hair is worn in two braids. When she talks about David she begins to cry as she tells me that her heart is not complete with him so far away. She likes to tell stories about how she cared for him as a kid and how much she stile loves him. For a culture that has undergone so much turmoil in the past century and seen so much death and destruction, for a country whose economy is slowly being sold to multi-nationals and life is a daily struggle to think of something creative to sell in order to make a living, people live a long time there. It is not rare to see old people well into their 90's and even 100+ years old. It seems that the elderly here slip into non existence even while still alive. Do people live longer there because of the strong family unit surrounding them?

Not too long ago I felt the need to be more involved with the Pasadena Community because I live there. I work at an organization where we depend on our 50+ volunteers to make our program work so I understand the importance of having committed people day after day. I came across volunteermatch.org about a year ago when I started posting positions for volunteers with our organization. Last month I started looking for an opportunity for me. That's when I found Union Station Foundation Pasadena's very own homeless shelter located on Raymond and Del Mar.

The facility itself is very nice in the sense that it is modern. I went in last Friday to talk with the volunteer coordinator about the possibility of hanging out there. Little did I know she would have me start that same day. Guess that was where I was going to be!

Today was my second day. I'm trying to stifle my usual tendency to overextend myself to the point where I bail after a few weeks. I'm only going there once a week for a couple hours. I don't do anything glamorous. Their greatest need is to have someone answer the phones. I can do that. Today I emptied out old file cabinets. I remain anonymous in a little back office used for case management. The employees treat me like I've worked there for a long time. They feel free to ask me to help them out with menial tasks--I appreciate that.

One of the case managers is a Van Halen loving, 30-something going on 20-something, no-nonsense, loud mouth (in the good sense) who made my first moments there wonderful and put me at ease.

This is an impressive organization. They provide something like 130k meals a year and they do that with only one paid kitchen staff. The rest is all volunteer labor. That is quite phenomenal to have a volunteer retention rate such as that.

The demographics of clients I met surprised me. There was a fairly even mix of Whites, Latinos, and African Americans. I am accustomed to the large shelters in Skid Row, this place was different. Much calmer, mellower...

I am interested to listen to the people who stay here unfold their stories of life if the right time ever arises.

Childlike Gratitude

How do you teach a kid in such a way that they come to their own conclusions without feeling indoctrinated? I want to teach Ke'ano my values but I don't want it to backfire when he's 16 once he realizes their not his values, but his families. So how do you teach something so that they can own it? I think that is the big parenting question I'll be working through my whole life. Where is the boundary between being a bit too postmodern (i.e. don't teach a kid anything let them learn themselves which I think serves no purpose) and hammering beliefs into their heads until they want nothing to do with the one teaching. I've seen so many friends walk away from God and value systems they were raised with out of sheer annoyance. Modeling is the most powerful thing a parent can do but beyond that, what else is there?

I had a cool experience last Thursday when Ke'ano and I were strolling in the altadena foothills. After we'd been walking for quite some time he asked to go sit down and rest at which point he found a big rock under a huge tree. Out of nowhere he says very casually out loud--Thanks for this rock and shade God. I like it.-- that was it. One sentence. I began to think about that moment as we continued our walk after resting. Not too long ago I had been putting him to bed and I asked him to pray and he said--Dear God, thanks for the food....--and then he realized that was the wrong formula for the moment. He knows he prays before he eats, but did he really understand why he prays? SO now, months later as he is experiencing something as natural and simplistic as a tree that gives shade, he is grateful for it and he had the awareness and connection to God to know that he is the giver and maker of all things and the he is the one to be thanked. Ke'ano continues to send up his thank yous to God when he feels indebted about something--whether it is trees that keep him cool, or running into a school friend at the library he hasn't seen in two months he is very grateful for these mundane "ordinary" occurrences. I hope this is something he doesn't lose as he gets older.

This morning I was whipping a towel around our kitchen trying to kill all the fruit flies that have been driving me crazy. Ke'ano came into the kitchen and asked what I was doing. When I told him he gave me a disapproving look and told me I should not kill the flies because God made them and they are alive for a reason. We've never taught him anything direct like that. I stopped killing the fruit flies, and instead I put the rest of the fruit in the fridge. It is so amazing to see how this little 5 year old's mind develops and comes into his own understanding of God.

The joys of impulsive traveling....

I booked a ticket to San Salvador today. Then I read the confirmation and realized I booked the wrong return date for September instead of august...I'm a winner. Then I realize I haven't traveled internationally since I got married last year so I still have a passport under my maiden name. Again...I'm a winner. Looks like I'll have my work cut out for me this next week trying to rectify all this.

I am very grateful to be working in a small yet effective non profit that is very laidback in nature. I was hesitant to ask for a week off so short notice--especially since I took a week off in July. I talked with my boss today who is such an amazing individual to begin with and she was completely supportive. I really appreciate my job and the atmosphere to explore life without being confined to strict scheduling. I am even more indebted to my husband who goes through all the headaches of working a 9-5er when that is even less his style than mine.

I feel a twinge of guilt knowing I'll be visiting David's country and his family which he longs to be with and yet can't at this point in time. Life is far more complicated right now when it comes to traveling for him.

It has been two years since I have been to El Salvador. Last time I was there for 3 months. This time I will be there a short week. Returning to Central America will be returning to many unique and deep friendships I made during my first trip. I look forward to the reunions with people that inevitably changed my life while I was there. When I was last there I was only David's girlfriend, now I'm the wife. I wonder if that'll make me somehow more accepted as "family" or if I'll just be that white girl that will always keep David from returning to El Salvador in their minds. (In reality, we'd move back in a moment if we were called by God and all the details regarding Ke'ano worked out here...But that is unlikely...I should know better than to say something like that now. God has a way of showing me how "likely" he can make things.)

I'm excited to have more conversations with my friends. When I was there last I'd only begun my endeavors with the Spanish language. Now, two years later, I use it almost daily in my job and feel confident to survive on my own.

Lastly, I hope to return to Archbishop Oscar Romero's grave at the national cathedral. I have never been one to be obsessed with the dead, or paying respects--however you want to call it, but Romero changed El Salvador. Romero went through a radical personal transformation. Romero strived to create a bridge between the Salvadoran Armies and the rebels during the long bloody civil war and he stood up for human life above all else. His body lies entombed in the basement of the cathedral. There is a small monument, but it is nothing gaudy or exorbitant. I remember it being peacefully quiet when i was there. I was alone. Just me and this spiritual leader.

I have begun to reminisce. more to follow i am sure.

This week has been far better than last.

No hospital visits. No children out for days at a time.

This week was great. And now it is friday.

David and I got free tickets to see Eric Clapton on monday thanks to David's co-worker and his unfortunate break up with his girlfriend.

I'm starting to hammer out the details of beginning grad school in october which is exciting to think about and look forward to.

I saw a great movie--Maria Full of Grace--the other day.

and i just now booked a ticket to El Salvador in two weeks. Couldn't pass up the price--250$ round trip! you can't beat that.

that's the round up for the week.

peace y'all