Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #12

Open 1 week after the conclusion of your service

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #11

Open 1 day prior to the conclusion of your service

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #5

Open after you have had a particularly productive day related to your service

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #7

Open one day after the last question

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #6

Open on a day when you're pondering the value of your service

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #10

Open one week prior to the conclusion of your service


(Ok, I realize I'm late [REALLY late at this point.. had most of this written out before I left Bolivia... oh well]... my bad! Blaming it on the impromptu travelling that I took almost directly after my work last Friday, the 13th [my technical week before the end of my service], and then the sicknesses I got from aforementioned travelling that have left me rather exhausted, and then internet problems)

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #8

Open after you've had a particularly emotional day related to service


I must preface this by saying that I'll probably be writing more about various moments than just about today. I feel like I have productive and value-of-service-questioning moments pretty much every day, so it makes it difficult to find a day where it is particularly so.  Similarly with this envelope.  But that being said, here goes!

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #4

Open at the mid-point of your experience

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #3

Open two days after the last question

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #2

Open 3 days after your arrival in your host community

On Maria Cristina (Pre-Visit)

So today was mostly an orientation of Projects Abroad, what my placement will be like, and bits of the city that Freddy (the supervisor of the Care portion of Projects Abroad Bolivia) and I walked around to.  Tomorrow I will see Maria Cristina, the orphanage (well, about 98% are orphans, Freddy says) for people with disabilities.  I guess I should ask why they are referred to as niños, because I found out today that the age range is actually from 9 to about 50. I suppose it's because their ages mentally are, according to Freddy, from 0 - 14.  Except wait... some of them I think are just deaf, which means there shouldn't be a cap of 14, unless all the deaf people are under 14... hmm.  Or maybe it's the whole discrimination against those with hearing disabilities and thinking they're much dumber people or something.  But then again, Freddy worked with children with special needs for 12 years before working at Projects Abroad for like 8 years, so he should know quite a bit.

Apparently, Freddy says that my placement is the hardest that they have, and it requires the bravest volunteers.  Freddy told me about how volunteers are all gung-ho about working at Maria Cristina, and then in like 5 minutes they start crying.  I'm not sure if that means they can't handle it and switch placements, or they eventually get through it all.  Interestingly, the blogger I was linking to in my public transportation post also visited an orphanage in Cochabamba, and her experiences are here, specifically,

"One day during the strike, I went to Solomon Klein Orphanage at the suggestion of friends. When I stepped in the door, they asked if I could help and I was put in a room with twenty 3-year-olds and one other adult. One little boy was blind, one had a club foot, one girl was dangerously skinny. All of them were only as clean as a few adults can keep that many filth-loving munchkins.  I only lasted the morning. It was good to be there, as there was clearly a need, but I just kept thinking 'but for the grace of God...' It made me so sad to think that these kids deserve to grow up with as much love as I did, and they won't have that chance. Then it challenged my belief that 'God's love is sufficient,' a belief that should be and is always challenged, but when looking at those kids, was very hard to wrestle out. I feel like a coward for not spending more time with those children. It was something I did not have the strength to do.
This 'volunteering' thing is like using your fingers to stop leaks in a dam. The dam is never gonna be repaired, or even hold, but you can't pull your fingers out once you're personally and physically committed.

The staff apparently do little to no work because they are like out of high school (or less) and have no experience or training.  How they learn to work with the children is purely through working at Maria Cristina.  Initiative apparently needs to be taken on the volunteer's part, which I'm a little apprehensive about... I often feel like creativity is not one of my strong points.

Perhaps creativity isn't needed as much, because the sheer need will be enormous.

The April 2012 newsletter from Projects Abroad has a volunteer writing about her experience in helping with occupational therapy for a month in Maria Cristina.  Here's the tragic account from Tarryn Stott:

"To say the facility is poor is an understatement. When fully staffed they only have four personnel to manage the orphans, one accredited nurse, two nursing students and a social worker. As there is a mixing of genders the staff is often forced to keep the orphans in a single room where they are able to supervise them. The only materials that they have in this room are old, soiled mattresses on the floor, which are where the orphans spend their days sitting or sleeping as they have nothing to stimulate them. Some of the orphans are covered in wounds from fighting with each other, likely I believe for some sort of entertainment. They are unable to provide basic medication for epilepsy so some have fits, and twelve of the orphans are incontinent, however they cannot afford pads for during the day so they often sit in their own defecation. "

There are 57 residents at the orphanage, and the staff (which I forgot to ask how many there are, but I'm guessing like a handful, if that) work from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. Then a nurse (or maybe a couple nurses?) generally from the nursing school in Cochabamba comes and watches them throughout the night.  Obviously the nurses are under-equipped as well, being still students likely with little training.

Freddy said that if I want to work both morning and afternoon, I can (which I hope to be able to do), and if I want to stay the night at some point, I can (which I definitely want to do as well).   Tarryn (the volunteer from above) and another volunteer set up an account and have already raised over $8,000 for materials to help entertain and teach the children, which is incredible.  I'm not really interested in raising money... soliciting for things makes me feel quite awkward, as it probably does for many Asians (or well, actually, since the account has been set up already, maybe I can just piggyback onto that).  I do wish I could be as awesome as they are, though.  But maybe I can at least give my time and my love.

Loewenstern Fellowship Envelope #1

Open 2 days before your scheduled departure

¡Gracias!

I finished reading When Invisible Children Sing, and came across this book, ¡Gracias! on Amazon, which purportedly was by Henri Nouwen and his travels in Peru and Bolivia.

I was thrown off by the cartoonish front cover and was wondering if this was actually the same Henri Nouwen that I knew about.  uhhh, surely this was someone else who happened to have the same name.

But nope.  It is.  My first encounter with his writing (as far as I was aware that I was reading his work) was an article on community that Jeff gave to me to read that I immensely enjoyed.  Next was Bill Henson talking at HCC and providing some quotes from him.  And finally it was in Washed and Waiting, where Wesley Hill found that Henri Nouwen also had same-sex attractions but wasn't open about them except to a few very close friends. Being a Catholic priest and having taken a vow of celibacy, he was also celibate.  But he struggled intensely with loneliness and companionship nonetheless, and Wesley noted that reading his writing in light of his struggles with his attractions just gave an even deeper level to them.

So to see that he also wrote a book on his travels to Peru and Bolivia, where he was trying to discern if this was where God wanted him to live in the future, was like God was just further placing role models in my lap.  Not to mention that in the end, although he didn't stay in Latin America, he did go to be the pastor of the L'Arche Daybreak Community in Toronto, Canada, working with and living with the adults with intellectual disabilities there.

oh hey.  Similar much?

And interestingly, this book was published in 1983.  The same year as the birth of my sister, my mentor, my staff member on my ASB this year, and one of my close gay friend's boyfriend.  Hm. 

Anyway, Nouwen lives in Cochabamba, Bolivia (oh hey, that's where I'm going...) for three months, taking language courses.  Then he goes to Lima, Peru (oh hey, that's where Caleb's going for his Loewenstern, and hey, Jeff is going to Peru too [although not Lima] this summer) for three months to work at the Maryknoll Society there, which is committed to working with and helping the poor.

oh hey.  There could hardly be a more perfect book for me after having read Dr. Huang's When Invisible Children Sing, with him being the Harvard med student raised in Texas having gone to A&M, and also Houston for his sister's cancer, working at two orphanages during the day (I realized recently that I'll be volunteering at two orphanages for a 7 - 8 hour weekday, one with children with special needs and one with children without special needs) and Bolivian street children at night.

I just find it kinda amazing that these things are falling into place more than I could have ever expected.  I wonder what conclusions and thoughts Nouwen will encounter as he tries to see if this is where God wants him in the future.  After all, I have the same questions of whether or not Bolivia/some Latin American country will be my home for a decade or two (or more) in the future.

Man, just blown away by God's provision.

A couple of things I've gleaned so far from the book to come.

At the youth study lock-in at Houston Chinese Church.  A lock-in is basically like a sleepover.  This one is for the high school and middle school students, and it's a "study" lock-in because I go to a Chinese church and apparently the kids here ask for lock-ins like that so they can study for their AP exams and what-not. haha.

I couldn't sleep the last hour and half (5:30 a.m. - 7 a.m.) because I was too lazy to stuff a blanket into my backpack and I was too proud to borrow an extra sleeping bag.  Also, I wanted to see if I could handle being cold and just sleeping with my pillow in my shorts and t-shirt.  I couldn't really, as the AC got too cold for me.

(ok, well, now I'm back in my room, but let's reflect anyway).

So I spent the hour-and-a-half reading from my iPhone a book Dennis recommended to me, When Invisible Children Sing, as I talked to him about my Loewenstern.  We happened to talk for like an hour-and-a-half on HCC's Health Day because there were no Spanish speakers for us to translate for.  =\  But still, at least I got to find out about this book.

It is incredible.  It is so profoundly moving for me.

The book is about a Christian who goes to Bolivia.  He's taking a gap-year between his third and fourth year of medical school at Harvard Medical School to treat and help street children in La Paz, Bolivia (which is a few hours from where I'm staying, in Cochabamba, but I am hoping to visit La Paz).  Although he was born overseas in Taiwan, I think, and lived for a few years in South Carolina, he mostly grew up at College Station and went to A&M (mind wanders for a bit and gets distracted about person) for his undergrad to support his family.

Reading about him treat and care for this girl for her bleeding (as she just aborted and buried her unborn child in the sludge who died because her boyfriend kicked and hit her in the stomach because he accidentally kinda flew into a fit of rage [but she needs him around and does like him still because he protects her from getting abused/raped from people on the streets]) in the sewers of La Paz, as she and other street children lie/sit by the warm river of excrement is intense and so poignantly moving.

Living among the people practically, and visiting them where they live, sometimes on the streets, sometimes in the sewers... just kinda like the incarnational ministry that Urbana talked about.  He sees the street children and works and tends to their knife wounds and infections and STDs and all sorts of diseases from 10 p.m. - 2 a.m. during the week, while he works at 2 orphanages during the day.

I wish I could be that amazing.  That cool.  haha.

The book is one of those books where I sometimes have to put down to soak it all in... where sometimes I put it down and just let my tears flow.  Hearing about what the street children have to go through is naturally heartbreaking, and reading the book gives me the continual thought of what I'll encounter at my government-run orphange for children with special needs.  Stories as heartbreaking/even more heartbreaking than the ones I read here?  Will I even be able to contain myself from just crying all the time?  (I'm sure I will.  or at least I have to.)

And how much help can I provide anyway?  I'm no med student.  I'm not even out of college.  I feel like I'm getting ready to feel useless right now, actually, because I probably will be pretty useless.

But maybe in the future, I will come back, or maybe the knowledge gained from this summer can be used in a really productive way.  I can't let the inevitability of me not really doing much stop me from seeking to learn and grow as much as I can from this experience so I can one day give something back.

Feeling useless... reminds me of the 12 envelopes with prompts inside that Mac and Sarah (the directors of the fellowship and two of the directors of the CIC) gave each of the Loewenstern Fellows.  Such a cool idea.  I'll probably be sure to post and blog about each one on here.

Here are the instructions on the following 12 envelopes:

#1  Open 2 days before your scheduled departure

(that would be May 11th!  Day before graduation...)

#2  Open 3 days after your arrival in your host community

(I arrive the 14th, so on May 17th... I will have already done two days of service)

#3  Open 2 days after the last question

(May 19th.  They said these envelopes tie in to the last envelope we open)

#4  Open at the mid-point of your experience

(June 17/18thish)

#5  Open after you have had a particularly productive day related to your service

#6  Open on a day when you're pondering the value of your service

(haha.  I wonder how often that'll happen?)

#7  Open one day after the last question

#8  Open after you've had a particularly emotional day related to your service

#9  Open on any day after the mid-point of your experience

#10  Open one week prior to the conclusion of your service

(I think my service would end on July 20th?  Or maybe the 22nd, when I actually fly out? 20th's the last Friday though.  So I should open this on July 13th at the earliest.)

#11  Open one day prior to the conclusion of your service.

(July 19th/July 21st)

#12  Open 1 week after the conclusion of your service.

(July 26th--oooh hayyyy.  Happy 21st to me!  lol.  And happy 29th to my mentor.  =)--or July 29th.  Although I may be at camp and without internet then.)

 

Some side-notes about the book:

It was a little disconcerting to go two thumb-swipes from reading the word Cochabamba to reading the word Houston, haha (he was saying how perhaps one of the kids fled to Cochabamba for the better economy, and then it was a flashback to his family taking his younger sister when he was a boy to what I presume was M.D. Anderson to treat her leukemia).  Houston and Cochabamba... Two words that were never part of my vocabulary four years ago, and now they'll probably stick with me for the rest of my life.

It also took me over half the book to realize that his first name is Chi... well, of course I realized his first name was Chi, but just the fact that it's my accountability partner's last name, you know?  Kinda unnerving/amusing too.

All in all, the book is a huge blessing in preparing me for Bolivia.  I can't wait to read the book Caleb gave me for Christmas too, Open Veins of Latin America.