American Pie?

I've heard people say that the Paraguayan culture is a lot different than the United States and it will take a lot of adjusting for me to get used to it. What they call "culture shock." I will admit that the culture is a little different, but if anything it seems a whole lot more friendly. I have been told multiple times by my host dad that I am family now and this is MY house. I am family. Everyone who I have been introduced to has been very accepting and overall friendly. My problem with all this is that i can only understand a very small percentage of what people say to me. I have yet to have what i would call an intelligent conversation with anyone in Castellano (the dialect of Spanish spoken here).

What all this means for me is that i don't think i have experienced culture shock so much as "language shock." I find myself hiding out in my room or anywhere away from people because it is so tiring constantly only hearing a language that i don't speak. (also somewhat frustrating not being able to understand what is going on in a conversation or on tv.)

I think the majority of the United States could dare to learn something from the people here. Instead of instantly rejecting those who don't speak English we should accept them and try to understand them whether or not they speak the language we hold in such high regard.

"And he said: 'I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.'"

- Matthew 18:2

"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

- Matthew 6:21

not much to say right now. i am in Paraguay and i have a host family. I like them a lot, but i can't talk to them much because i don't know a whole lot of Spanish (or as they call it here "Castellano")

They say my name now is Naomi Cabrera - saying that i am now part of their family. My host father's name is Antonio, my host mother is Catalina. I have two host sisters, Sara and Ruth and one host brother, Santiago.

Like i said, they are all very nice, friendly people. I think it won't be too long until i really do feel like family with them.

Tomorrow we start Spanish classes. I'm looking forward to that.

"Jehova es mi pastor, nada me faltara"

Salmos 23:1

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want."

Psalms 23:1

Everything will turn out all right

So.

Three days until I leave Chicago. Three days until I leave the United States. Three days until there are only four people who will understand me when I speak English.

Really more like two days. Or two and a half. Paraguay team flies out at nine o'clock Sunday morning. Which means we are leaving this flat at five. In the morning.

It's exciting. And scary. There has been a nervous energy running through the entire group tonight.

I'm not even sure what to say about this ... this journey. The time has come for the teams to split and go in their own directions. Time for us to leave our families and loved ones for a year. Time for personal growth. Time for expanding world views.
Time for extreme excitement, and happiness as well as a penetrating loneliness.





"There is a time for everything
and a season for every activity under heaven"
(Ecclesiastes 3:1)


We are blessed.

All Together Now

To those of you who are trying to follow my blog, I'd like to say sorry about not posting very consistantly. I did try to post a couple days ago and blogspot (or Tim's computer) was acting up so i couldn't.
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Yesterday we did an excersize on hospitality. Krista sent us into Chicago and told us to spend the whole day being hospitable to others. It was Labor Day, and in the park we were at a march was being organized (apparently there is always some sort of march on Labor Day in Chicago.) This march was a protest of unfair treatment and deportation of immigrants in America. There were signs being held saying "No human is illegal" and chants ringing out crying "Obama, escucha, estamos de la lucha!" (Obama, listen, we are for the fight!) The people were a mix of white and Latin American, there were labor unions, politicions, families, and college students. There were speaches given in Spanish and in English, people handing out flyers and pamphlets promoting various causes (one about how much we need a Communist revolution) and everyone was (or seemed to be) actively, even aggressively, passionate about justice and immigration laws.
The march finally began and I walked with them, listening to the chants rippling from Spanish to English and back again.

By walking in the march I was attempting to show hospitality to immigrants. As I thought about it though, I wondered if the march really had anything to do with the kind of hospitality and love we are to show to others as followers of Christ. I honestly do care about the cause as I see it. It is a fight for the justice and liberation of people, of my family (family as I have come to understand it in the larger, global sense.) But did it really matter in the long run, or to anyone personally, that I walked a few blocks with a crowd of people who were much more vocal and passionate and informed than I?