Tuesday, November 25, 2008

# 2 The airport 11/24/09

He reviewed the tapes before he let the girls see them. Dora and Blues's Clues were declared acceptable but he could find nothing to redeem Sponge Bob Squarepants. Luke passion for doing the right thing and maintaining standards was what had first attracted her to him at college. He was so good-looking and stable in comparison to most of the other boys whom were focused on sports, drinking or chasing girls.
Doing the right thing, staying pure before God was the focus of his life. Sure he was stable, but his obsessiveness with pureness was the flip side of the dependable coin. The side that took the fun out of life sometimes. He did seem to delight in the package from his mom that Janai had brought him. His mom had sent his favorite packaged snack foods and some boxes of breakfast cereal. It was obvious that Janai just considered herself just the messenger. She figured Luke had everything he needed when he moved her best friend to this god forsaken place and kept those dear babies 4000 miles away.
The dear babies were now gamely marching along looking adorable, though disheveled, with their matching backpacks made from Indian weave. Lucy felt the sting of loss thinking of the love sewn into those backpacks by the senoras in the sewing co-operative. That was the one thing she truly loved and would miss about Bolivia. It was also the one time that it mattered enough to stand up to Luke. He had wanted her start a Bible Study with the ladies, but when she saw the beautiful things they made, and how poor they were, she knew in her heart that they needed more than words and faith. It had started at the first Bible study when she had asked the ladies to bring something they had made. It was the typical white church lady icebreaker to get to know each other. She was astounded by their brilliant woven cloths, knitted alpaca sweaters and intricate embroidery. Her own knitted dishcloth looked like it had been knitted by Lily. She was too embarrassed to get out the simple craft project the had planned.
Only three women showed up, so they talked about their lives and their children, their hopes and dreams while they knitted and wove. They showed Lucy how to set up weaving and few words in Quechua. Her lesson on Mary, Martha and service seemed beside the point, as apparently they already lived their lives in service to their family and their community. As they left, she thought that perhaps next week she would get a take on their religious views.
"I've gone native" she thought, remembering that was the first thing that they had counseled her against in missionary training. And at her very first Bible Study too! She told Luke that that it had gone well with building relationships with the woman and about their beautiful work. He had congratulated her, thanked her for doing this for the ministry, but suggested that perhaps the next time she get the Bibles out and gave her a few tips on group dynamics.
She knew he was right and the next week she had Mary and Martha dusted off and ready to go. When she arrived, she was surprised to find that each of last week's participants had brought 2 friends and there was a total of 10 women there, all anxious to show off their handiwork! She admired more beautiful weaving and knitting and announced in her sometimes halting Spanish that she had a story to tell them.*****

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Getting started 11/4/08

June 2004
Lucy drew a deep breath as the plane touched down on the O'Hare runway. The slight queasiness that she always felt at landing dissipated as plane taxied to the gate. She sighed again and thought, "Well now", too overwhelmed and tired to think anything else.

Her fellow travelers divided themselves into two groups: The overhead compartment retrievers and and the cell phone users. Up and down the airplane cabin, the former were making a racket snapping open the the compartment doors. The latter were turning on their cell phones in a cacophony of rings, chime, beeps and the tinny bits from well known symphonies. She caught a snatch of "badadadadat dada", the 1812 Overature and felt a little dizzy with sensory overstimulation.

The clamor and activity was overwhelming. Just twenty four hours ago she had loaded herself and her children on the collectivo, really not much more than a school bus to cross the altiplano to board the plane in La Paz. When she left the states 8 years ago, there were few cell phones in the States and none in Bolivia. She sighed deeply again in the midst of the confusion, amazed that her children were still asleep. The had been traveling for hours and their little physical and emotional reserves had been drained dry. She dreaded waking them. Her own reserve of energy and patience, usually deep as an artesian well, was down to a trickle.

Lily would wake up quickly, look around. then launch into a litany of questions and comments unique to five-year-olds. Priscilla would wake up cranky. At two, she had limited ability to make sense of her return to the world of wakefulness. Lucy said a little "Jesus help me" sort of prayer. She had neither the strength for Lily's nonstop chatter or Priscilla's volatile entrance from the world of sleep. Thankfully the new baby, yet unborn was low maintenance: peacefully tumbling about in his or her own tranquil world. The lethargy of early pregnancy had passed and the weightiness of the last months was still in the future.

"Lily, honey we're here"

Her blue eyes snapped open. She surveyed the plane aisles, noticed the passengers disembarking and smiled. "Are we there?" "Are we in Chicago?" "Where are Uncle Phil and Aunt Martha?" "Are we going on a train?"

Lucy reviewed for her, once again, the plan for getting the bags, taking the train downtown to meet her brother-in-law, Phil and his new wife Martha. Tired as she was, Lucy couldn't help smiling at Lily's questions about Phil and Martha, acting as if they were intimate friends, instead of persons she only knew from pictures and conversations. Lucy had wanted her children to be connected to their American family, so kept photo albums and regularly reviewed them with Lily and Priscilla, encouraging them to say goodnight and kiss pictures of grandparents, aunts and uncles.

Lily's five year old sensibilities for the need to know what happens next seemed to be satisfied, at least for the moment.
"Pack your backpack sweetie" I'm going to wake up 'Cilla.
Lily shot her a look of "here it comes" that exactly mirrored how Lucy felt. Priscilla, bless her little heart, began to wake up on her own, rubbed her face on Lucy's arm a few times and began to take an interest in the lady holding a little dog in the aisle. Lucy herself did a double take; who know one could take a dog in a tote bag on a plane. Things had changed while she was gone.

"Cilla, mi corazon, we're here, get your backpack."

The trip to the baggage area was uneventful, but felt like a marathon. Not for the first time, Lucy regretted making the trip alone. Maybe she should have waited until Luke could have come with her to help. The girls were fascinated with the moving walkways and ads. Their small city in Bolivia was isolated and technology was limited to local TV, radio and billboards. The children weren't completely isolated from American culture. There was a TV and VCR that they used in their ministry that the kids could watch. Most of their packages were stolen or held ransom by the post office for unreasonable tariffs, but her jetsetter college roommate Janae had brought American video tapes on her most recent visit; a side trip when she had finished hiking Machu Pichu. Janai, still appalled that Lucy had forsaken her life to live in the tropics attempting the impossible task of saving the Bolivians' souls, had brought a treasure trove of American culture.
Janae's suitcases burped out some trendy clothes for Lucy and Baby Gap for the girls. The moment became tense when the suitcase produced video tapes of American cartoons. She watched Luke's mouth straighten from mildly amused to a grim tight line as Dora, Blues Clues and Sponge Bob Square Pants spilled out.