Not An Adventure

I’d like to preface this whole thing by saying that this is a preemptive strike, or rather, post. Why?

Well, because I’d like to clear the air of something that’s been nagging me for the past year. That way, when the time comes (very soon, I might add) that finds me back in the United States, I want to be able to have conversations with people without losing my marbles. I want to share what I have learned, what I have seen. I want to share the love I have felt. I don’t want to share my bad mood that you might set off just by saying the wrong thing.

So here’s the thing. People frequently, with their good intentions, continue to wish me success, happiness, and the like while I am here at NPH El Salvador. Something akin to “on this adventure of yours” is almost always tacked on to the end of the sentence. Adventure. My adventures. My year full of adventures.

In a word, gross.

That’s not what this is. My presence and geographical location for the last year has not been an adventure. It’s not an escapade, a voyage, or what have you. Try out most of adventure’s synonyms and try to claim that what I am doing is in fact of an adventurous nature, and I’ll find a way to disagree with you.

For me, the word adventure implies a passing fancy or some thrill-seeking…thing, as if I just decided to take a year off after finishing college before entering the “work world” to go backpacking or gallivanting through Europe kind of adventure. (Not that that is bad. It’s not! I’d love to travel through Europe, someday.)

My volunteer service, nay, my time in community with my crazy big Salvadoran family is not an adventure.

I was not blown here by the wind. I didn’t blindly place my finger on a spinning globe to see where I should go on a whim. I didn’t look up a list of international volunteer/service organizations and choose one at random from a search engine result page.

All I did was come back to a place that my bones knew and called as yet another home for me. (See the Home Series posts #1, 2, and 3 for a better understanding.) It wasn’t just that I returned home to this family, to this place where I felt and feel loved. I was called back. God planted a seed many years ago and has lovingly nurtured it. I’m blessed to say that it has grown into an awesome little tree. And you know what? Trees keep growing! Life keeps growing and twisting and turning!

God’s plan for my life brought me here. Now granted I could have said no and refused. I could have said, you know what? I’m going to get a paying job and stay. But when you come to know a place like this, when you come to know such beautiful people, and when God says, hey why don’t you go live there? It’s pretty easy to make that choice (and would be definitely mind-boggling if you did say no!)

I love hiking in the mountains or near the lake at home. Sometimes I just love walking along the river near my old apartment for no reason. There’s something about physical paths that I am drawn to, so it makes logical sense that my favorite metaphorical figure for my life is in fact, a path or the trail.

My life, the path that I am walking on and have been on since the day I was born, has climbed up up up in altitude. Sometimes it gradually descends, sometimes rapidly. Then it ascends again with tortoise or hare-like velocity. Sometimes it’s full of switchbacks; sometimes it’s full of big ol’ lazy curves. When I came to NPH El Salvador, I wasn’t switching paths. I was and am continuing on the one I initially set off on, 23 years ago.

So…to bring it all back. It’s not that I don’t like the word adventure and what it means. Will I go on adventures? You bet! Do I think every day holds the possibility of being an adventure? Of course! Have I been on adventures while serving and living in El Salvador? Absolutely. I’ve got a whole mental list of stories at the ready to tell you.

But please, please, please do not mistake my time and presence in El Salvador as a whole as being an adventure. To be quite frank, I hate it when people say, “oh it’s an adventure.” “How exciting is this adventure for you!” What you are doing to me and to my kids here is compartmentalizing our lives, our experiences. We are not some item to check off on a list of things to do in the world and in life.

This is not a philanthropic volun-tourist thing. I didn’t come down to a country rife with poverty and violence to do “good” and make myself feel better, like people often do these days in their quests to “find themselves.” To say to myself, “yeah I have these big grandiose ideas about how I’m gonna change the world and eliminate suffering…okay I did my thing down here and now I can move on with my life.” That’s pretty shallow. If you are going to do service, wherever in the world it might be, do it for the right reasons. Do it because you are serving your neighbor, not serving yourself.

After having countless cup-runneth-over days here at NPH El Salvador, I seriously cannot imagine living out such a ludicrous notion of self-before-others. I came down not to make myself feel better or to change the world. I came down to be a part of someone’s life, to tell him and to tell her, hey you know, I love you. You’re going to be someone in this world. I believe in you.

St. Vincent Palloti says, “You must be holy in the way God asks you to be holy. God does not ask you to be a Trappist monk or a hermit. He wants you to sanctify the world and your everyday life.”

That’s pretty awesome, don’t you think? I’m doing my best to do what God asks of me, my call to holiness, as it were. So, NPH El Salvador isn’t an adventure. It’s the best way I know how to live out the call to holiness.

It’s my life.

Home is Not Places

Final Part of the “Home” series

Just like the source of my blog’s name, this song perfectly pinpoints how I felt when I was making the decision about what to do after college. For the longest time, well ever since my first visit to NPH El Salvador back in 2008, I was pushed and pulled in this direction. To be a volunteer not just within the greater NPH family, but specifically El Salvador. It’s as if God said, “This is your home too. Go.”

So, I went. I came. I am living here in El Salvador.

“Home is Not Places” by The Apache Relay is one of my favorite songs. It came into my life during college, right when my concept of what home was to me began to morph into something bigger than I could have ever imagined. In comparison to the other songs in this series, this song helps me understand and explain the feeling that I had to move, to leave. Rather, it helped me understand that my life was moving forward in a slightly different direction than most of my friends and peers…and that it was okay and perfectly normal. Granted, moving to another country and culture and simultaneously giving up your settled way of life is not something everyone does, and it certainly isn’t for everyone. But it was for me.

Feel it burn in my soul.
Like a wound that is exposed.
I need to run, I need to go.
I took my time, I got no more.
So take me somewhere I don’t know
‘cause home is not places it is love.

There was this indescribable feeling within me. I’m pretty sure the decision had been made long before I was truly conscious of it, if that makes any sense. I knew that in order to be the person that God wants me to be, leaving was part of the deal. Be the person I think I should be, or be the person God calls me to be?

I would be lying if I said that it’s easy to be the God calls us to be. Sometimes that path is easy, but sometimes it is not so much a walk of cake rather that it is more like walking across hot coals (or cement that’s been baking in the sun all day, in my case ha!) However, in this particular point of my life, being the person God wants to me to be, making that step of coming to NPH El Salvador, that was easy. It isn’t often that I have those moments of clarity and know exactly what God asks of me. NPH was and is one of those things that God doesn’t have to hit me on the head to know.

Though I did take my time getting around to doing it, as the song says, I finally had no more time to keep this part of my life at bay. I have been here before, so I had a pretty good idea of what things looked like as a visitor. However, life as a truly entrenched member of this family is something completely different. So instead of coming to a place I didn’t know, in essence, I came to an unknown role.

The one thing I did and do know is that the song is right, home is not a place. It is love. I may not be back in Tennessee or Ohio with my family members and friends, but I feel their love and carry it with me. I am living in a place full of love. At first it was a few buildings and a room that looked nothing like my old apartment or parents’ house. Now, it is my big house. I’ve got a couple hundred people I love and who love me back.

And I, I don’t want no control,
‘cause home is not places it is love.
It is love.
It is love.
It is love.
It is love.

Part of our life’s journey and God’s plan may involve leaving what we think we know and are supposed to do. Take comfort in knowing that a home is not a place. A home is where there is love, where you feel it and give it in return. That can be anywhere in the world!

The time for me to leave NPH is rapidly approaching. I hate it. However, I take comfort in knowing that this will always be my home too. Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos El Salvador has become (well, has been) part of the fabric of my being. It’s not a home or an institution, but rather a place of love.

And so, there is the conclusion to the Home series. I hope it helped you in figuring what home is and means to you!

Don’t forget to go to the main page to check out the song “Home is Not Places” by the ever wonderful The Apache Relay.

Paz y bien.

*Oh! Also! I couldn’t resist the connection as this song is too great to not mention more about my experience with the band. I’ve been lucky enough to see The Apache Relay four times. Not only are they incredibly talented musicians and put on a great show, but they are very humble and wonderful people to talk to. As is my penchant at any concert or for any artist, I like to hang around after shows in the event that I have the wicked cool opportunity to meet them.

I’ve talked to Michael, the lead singer a few times. The first time I met him was after my third time seeing them. Michael gave me this big old bear hug after I told him that I still hadn’t heard them play my favorite song of theirs live, “Home is Not Places.” We then chatted about some other things, and then right before we parted, he gave me a handwritten set list…which is so awesome!

A few days before I saw them in March 2013, I sent out a tweet to the band/Michael, casually but not so subtly asking if they might have tossed Home back into the set list. I realize that any band might get a bit tired of playing certain things, but I still had to see. The evening came. My sister and I drove an hour to see them, ate overpriced Chinese food next to the venue, got front row/stage view standing positions, and the show was awesome. After playing a mix of old and new tunes, the show had ended and Home was not played. Admittedly very bummed, I still was looking forward to the encore. Then Michael came back out on stage by himself with an acoustic guitar. I thought it was odd.

Then he started playing a stripped down version of Home is Not Places, and I almost cried it was so beautiful.

After the show was really over, Ape (my sister) and I hung around. I was fortunate enough to talk to Michael again, and I profusely thanked him for playing Home. “No problem!” he said. He told me that he had seen the tweet I sent, and instead of replying, he thought he’d make a surprise of it and just played it at the end of the show. How cool and sweet and awesome is he? Very. Moral of my concert story – people are awesome.

Now, for real. Paz y bien!

On Embarrassment and Love

Two very good friends and outstanding young men.

Two very good friends and outstanding young men.

In El Salvador, Mother’s Day was celebrated on Saturday, May 10th. The Friday before, we had a little office luncheon to celebrate. I jokingly asked if I would be included since I wasn’t a mother. Fortunately for me I was included, and we all had a merry ole time. One very nice thing that one of my coworkers said was even though this day celebrates mothers, we also want to celebrate any future mothers. He pointedly looked at me and my friend (who is also without children) and jokingly said, “so hurry up with that then, okay?!” Ha! Yeah, I’ll get right on that.

On Saturday right after Mass, our house coordinator stood up to do his usual announcements. When he finished, he then asked for all of the tías from Casa Santa María (girls’ house) and from Casa Niño Jesús (babies’ house) to come up to the front. I was sitting practically in the back of the church, and I had no intention of coming forward for a few reasons. The two most important ones being A) I am not technically a tía so I didn’t think I was included in whatever was going to happen and B) I had a feeling it had something to do with Mother’s Day since only the female caregivers were asked to come forward…

Of course it had something to do with Mother’s Day because NPH is a kind and loving place, and whether for the most trivial or most important of events, we do for people. If you get what I’m saying.

While I sat there watching the tías untangle themselves from sitting in the middle of pews, I noticed that the girls around me and the boys across the aisle were all saying my name and telling me to go up front. I refused them several times. Then they started getting louder and louder! I panicked because, what if maybe, just maybe, I was included? Then I thought, no I can’t possibly be included. The house coordinator didn’t specifically mention for me to come forward, just the tías.

“¡Pase Ashley! ¡Pase, pase, pase! ¡PASE ASHLEY!”

So at the alarming increase in the mild yelling of the kids near me telling me to go up, I slowly stood up. I sheepishly made my way to the front of the church and stood amongst the tías. I knew my face had become a red beacon for all those embarrassed souls in the world.

After some nice words, all of a sudden some of the children from the babies’ house popped up like daisies from their seats. I inwardly groaned because I saw that they all had something in their hands, which also confirmed my suspicion and fear that this little Mother’s Day surprise was in fact planned. Planning involves numbers! I’m pretty sure I wasn’t included in those numbers!

Each child picked a tía to come to. I was fully prepared to not receive something, since obviously they would be short a little candy rose. To my great surprise (and relief because let’s be honest, who wants to be left on the altar with nothing, ha?) one of my favorite boys came and hugged me. I squeezed him so very tight and thanked him. I had also hoped that that embrace would catapult me back to my seat. Alas, it did not. After what felt like eons in front of everyone, I sat back down. Some of the girls around me all of a sudden started saying, “Happy Mother’s Day, Ashley.”

God I was so embarrassed. I just felt weird because I had this gut feeling like I wasn’t supposed to be up there, and I think one of the tías did not receive a rose. I did! She didn’t!

After exiting the church Octavio*, the little boy who gave me the rose, and some of his pals came up to me and were all chatty. Octavio said that when he saw me walk up that he had picked me to give his rose to. How sweet and adorable is he! I gave him another hug. Then the other boys asked me if I was a mother. I am not. But that didn’t seem to matter to them as they said, “well you’re like a spiritual mother/sister to me!” After that, some of the older boys and year of service youth saw me and hugged me, saying Happy Mother’s Day. At first I was sure they were just being smart alecks since they know I don’t have children. I realized though that they were being sincere, and that left me all confused. Granted, some did tease me because of how red my face was and because they know I don’t have children. “Haha, why did you go up there Ashley? Why was your face SO RED?!”

Much later in the day, I called my Mom to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day. She asked me how my day had gone. After telling her what happened after Mass, she said, “Well maybe you weren’t included by the adults who planned the surprise, but it says something that the kids thought you should go up there. Right?”

I didn’t think about that. (Thanks for pointing that out, Ma.) Moms are so smart! In my abrupt explosion of embarrassment and chagrin, I failed to see the blessing right in front of me. I failed to see the love surrounding me. The kids wanted me up there for a reason. Perhaps some of them see me as motherly figure. I know for sure many see me as a friend and at least a sister.

Fast forward to Tuesday. I got wind of a celebration for the tías later that night, but since I hadn’t heard about it through official channels, I assumed I was not invited. I was totally okay with that, by the way. When I went to check out the decorations, two of the year of service guys were there working on the last minute details. (Keep in mind that these specific two were also the first ones to hug me and wish me a Happy Mother’s Day after I left the church on Saturday.)

Abraham* came over to talk to me. He had earlier asked me for help in taking/finding pictures of the tías so that he could put together a slideshow for that night. I asked him when I could see the finished product, thinking he would pass it to me via jump drive. “No,” he said. “You’re going to watch it tonight. You’re invited!” At first I didn’t believe him, so he called over to Alfonso* who affirmed the invitation. As it turns out, they also had invited Maki, the new volunteer from Japan. She’s only been here a week, but I was oh so happy that she was included! Inclusion is a powerful element in a work environment after all, and she is so very far away from home.

I know it’s ridiculous, but even when I arrived to the party, I still felt weird being there! I don’t know why I did because I was not the only person present who doesn’t have children. There are tías that don’t have kids. So why was I making such a big deal about it? Only God knows. Seriously, I haven’t a clue.

As the night wore on, that feeling of embarrassment left me completely. We had a delicious meal, and Abraham’s slideshow was very well done. The silliest part of the evening was the entertainment. I’ve long known that I live with a bunch of hams, and the boys’ production of a classroom full of bad students only reaffirmed that fact. They’re hilarious! The girls and year of service young ladies did some very cool dances.

As a gift to all of us, they gave us hand sown aprons. Each had a different painted design on the pocket. I might add that about half of those pocket paintings were done by my friend Katie Ann when she came here to visit me, ha! Kudos to you, my friend.

The best part of the evening, in spite of all the silliness and revelry, was picture time. I walked away with a picture of Abraham, Alfonso, and myself. Because of those two wonderful, thoughtful, and kind young men, I was reminded of what love is and that it manifests itself in infinite forms.

Abraham*

Abraham* and I pretending to dance.

Alfonso*

Alfonso* looking cool.

It is a fact that I am not a mother to any child, legally or biologically. However, Saturday’s debacle and Tuesday’s celebration tell me otherwise. I was included not because another adult thought I should be, but rather I was included in the former at the urging of half of the church full of my kids and the latter because those two sweet young men said I was invited, no ifs ands or buts about it.

Even in the midst of feeling uncomfortable, awkward, and out of place, these kids made and continue making me feel loved and appreciated. That’s all anyone could ever ask for.

Paz y bien.

*Names changed to protect the pequeños’ privacy.

April in Review

The month of April was, to say the least, awesome. A lot of fun and cool things happened here at NPH El Salvador, not least among them being Holy Week and Easter. Lent is my favorite liturgical season, but there’s something about Holy Week that I can’t explain. I love it! It was very neat to have experienced new traditions here with my NPH family.

Here is the month of April in photo review at Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos El Salvador! I included a lot of pictures in this post (more than usual) because of how much went on and simply due to the fact that I cannot make a decision on which picture to use. I hope you don’t mind that (but really, why would you mind more pictures?)

Also, I should note that at some point after Easter, something happened with the inner workings of my camera, and now a black mark appears in the corner of every picture. Unfortunately I have not been able to figure out how to make it go away.

Enjoy!

Paz y bien.

The boys are working (mostly) on some drawings, but near the end of the afternoon they spent more time goofing off than working, ha!

The boys are working (mostly) on some drawings, but near the end of the afternoon they spent more time goofing off than working, ha!

On our way to see FAS play! (FAS is a professional soccer team!)

On our way to see FAS play! (FAS is a professional soccer team!)

Our special treat to the boys was going on the field. In this shot, the players are going back inside to change before the game. Those are my boys lining the tunnel. How cool!? The leading scorer in all of El Salvador is the guy in blue about to give out some high fives.

Our special treat to the boys was going on the field. In this shot, the players are going back inside to change before the game. Those are my boys lining the tunnel. How cool!? The leading scorer in all of El Salvador is the guy in blue about to give out some high fives.

The story of my life – an unsuccessful group picture, ha. I got a few of the boys and some of the players looking at my camera.

The story of my life – an unsuccessful group picture, ha. I got a few of the boys and some of the players looking at my camera.

It wasn’t actually raining, but she needed a picture with an umbrella. So we improvised!

It wasn’t actually raining, but she needed a picture with an umbrella. So we improvised!

With the boys and their homework assignment. Kudos go to the Tía who helped them make the very delicious pudín.

With the boys and their homework assignment. Kudos go to the Tía who helped them make the very delicious pudín.

With the girls while they prepare chilaquiles…

With the girls while they prepare chilaquiles…

The finished product, chilaquiles. I know it doesn’t look like much, but I promise you. IT IS AWESOME.

The finished product, chilaquiles. I know it doesn’t look like much, but I promise you. IT IS AWESOME.

How the frontlines look just before dinner time.

How the frontlines look just before dinner time.

Beans and cream for dinner, one of my favs.

Beans and cream for dinner, one of my favs.

The life of that beheaded piñata was short. There was still candy inside!

The life of that beheaded piñata was short. There was still candy inside!

April birthdays!

April birthdays!

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Going for a spin on the track! I gave some of the girls a ride later on because they don’t know how to ride a bike, but they still wanted to experience it.

Going for a spin on the track! I gave some of the girls a ride later on because they don’t know how to ride a bike, but they still wanted to experience it.

Palm Sunday procession!

Palm Sunday procession!

An NPH El Salvador Holy Week tradition is to go to the Lempa River. It’s a 2 hour walk from the foundation. This is a bridge you have to cross. Really. Haha. I opted to walk through the stream. On the way home, I walked across. It was mildly terrifying as you’d imagine.

An NPH El Salvador Holy Week tradition is to go to the Lempa River. It’s a 2 hour walk from the foundation. This is a bridge you have to cross. Really. Haha. I opted to walk through the stream. On the way home, I walked across. It was mildly terrifying as you’d imagine.

She needed to borrow my shoes, but I wouldn’t let her until I took a picture documenting the stark difference between our feet, ha.

She needed to borrow my shoes, but I wouldn’t let her until I took a picture documenting the stark difference between our feet, ha.

All 3 of the gallinas at the river.  Gallina means hen in Spanish. Our nickname for each other happened because of a misunderstanding between the word for flip flop and the word for hen. The silliness will never go away, and the nickname stuck.

All 3 of the gallinas at the river. Gallina means hen in Spanish. Our nickname for each other happened because of a misunderstanding between the word for flip flop and the word for hen. The silliness will never go away, and the nickname stuck.

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In order to cross the strong current to get to the other side, you had to use the rope that the year of service boys somehow managed to string across. They’re awesome.

In order to cross the strong current to get to the other side, you had to use the rope that the year of service boys somehow managed to string across. They’re awesome.

I kept walking around making kissy faces with my algae mustache. The girls hated it, I loved it.

I kept walking around making kissy faces with my algae mustache. The girls hated it, I loved it.

The boy in the middle had just basically fallen off his seat, which happens to be a water jug that caved in on itself. Haha.

The boy in the middle had just basically fallen off his seat, which happens to be a water jug that caved in on itself. Haha.

Walking home

Walking home

Enjoying a lovely sunset. I walked home with 3 girls in less than 2 hours! We were very proud of ourselves.

Enjoying a lovely sunset. I walked home with 3 girls in less than 2 hours! We were very proud of ourselves.

Holy Thursday is my favorite! Washing of the feet.

Holy Thursday is my favorite! Washing of the feet.

On Good Friday, the year of service youth put on their production of the Stations of the Cross. We all lined the field to watch.

On Good Friday, the year of service youth put on their production of the Stations of the Cross. We all lined the field to watch.

I love Pilate’s outfit. It makes me giggle, especially since this guy is always so serious!

I love Pilate’s outfit. It makes me giggle, especially since this guy is always so serious!

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It was awesome watching the guys put the crosses up, so very smooth and skilled.

It was awesome watching the guys put the crosses up, so very smooth and skilled.

This is the thief who defended Jesus and asked Jesus to remember him when he arrived in the Kingdom…well that guy happens to be my little brother, E, who said those words. Although Holy Thursday is my favorite of the Triduum, Good Friday ALWAYS gets me and makes me cry. I lost it, internally, when E said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.” This time it wasn’t just words I heard from a lector. It was my brother, hanging from a cross, who said them.

This is the thief who defended Jesus and asked Jesus to remember him when he arrived in the Kingdom…well that guy happens to be my little brother, E, who said those words. Although Holy Thursday is my favorite of the Triduum, Good Friday ALWAYS gets me and makes me cry. I lost it, internally, when E said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.” This time it wasn’t just words I heard from a lector. It was my brother, hanging from a cross, who said them.

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Good Friday was…good...to say the least.

Good Friday was…good…to say the least.

Veneration of the Cross

Veneration of the Cross

All of the year of service youth and Padre Ron being silly!

All of the year of service youth and Padre Ron being silly!

Blessing of the fire on Easter Vigil

Blessing of the fire on Easter Vigil

I could make an album just from pictures from that night, titled “Boys who squint because of the flash.”

I could make an album just from pictures from that night, titled “Boys who squint because of the flash.”

Easter morning’s only light at 4:30am was a path lined with these votive candles in sand.

Easter morning’s only light at 4:30am was a path lined with these votive candles in sand.

Padre and the guys before Mass started

Padre and the guys before Mass started

Happy Easter! The sun has risen, Christ has risen! Alleluia.

Happy Easter! The sun has risen, Christ has risen! Alleluia.

With my friend! He studies on the other side of the country, so we rarely see him.

With my friend! He studies on the other side of the country, so we rarely see him.

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Hahaha. This is a beautiful and silly picture.

Hahaha. This is a beautiful and silly picture.

The week’s other Peter Parker.

The week’s other Peter Parker.

“This is my beloved family, with whom I am well pleased.”

“This is my beloved family, with whom I am well pleased.”

One of the tías and her girls

One of the tías and her girls

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Easter Sunday activities…I promise, she clears it and makes a big ol’ splash.

Easter Sunday activities…I promise, she clears it and makes a big ol’ splash.

This kid is awesome. He asked to see the picture, and when he saw it he yelled, “WOW I LOOK SOOOOO COOL!”

This kid is awesome. He asked to see the picture, and when he saw it he yelled, “WOW I LOOK SOOOOO COOL!”

Even the year of service girls got in on the fun.

Even the year of service girls got in on the fun.

I love the smiles.

I love the smiles.

I spent part of my Easter afternoon in the clinic because of a gnarly blister I got on our hike to the river.

I spent part of my Easter afternoon in the clinic because of a gnarly blister I got on our hike to the river.

More homework time in the kitchen, this time it was sopes! Delicious.

More homework time in the kitchen, this time it was sopes! Delicious.

This year of service guy, who is not assigned to work in the kitchen, randomly stopped by and started helping the tía prepare beans without being asked. I love it! Yet another reason why my kids are way cool.

This year of service guy, who is not assigned to work in the kitchen, randomly stopped by and started helping the tía prepare beans without being asked. I love it! Yet another reason why my kids are way cool.

“Haciendo la paja” is what the boys told me (doing the lie, literally). The boys didn’t actually make the tortillas, the girls helped them ha. So I took a picture of them pretending to work.

“Haciendo la paja” is what the boys told me (doing the lie, literally). The boys didn’t actually make the tortillas, the girls helped them ha. So I took a picture of them pretending to work.

Their final product was chilaquilas (though the name is only one letter different from what the girls made – see the earlier picture – it is in fact much different but still just as delicious!).

Their final product was chilaquilas (though the name is only one letter different from what the girls made – see the earlier picture – it is in fact much different but still just as delicious!).

My best friend Katie Ann came to visit me for a little over a week. She’s so cool!

My best friend Katie Ann came to visit me for a little over a week. She’s so cool!

She made friends in the clinic too, haha.

She made friends in the clinic too, haha.

Photographic evidence that I do in fact wash my clothes by hand…

Photographic evidence that I do in fact wash my clothes by hand…

…and then almost cry because the sun is shining in my eyes when I hang them up to dry. Ha.

…and then almost cry because the sun is shining in my eyes when I hang them up to dry. Ha.

Friends making friendship bracelets

Friends making friendship bracelets

After a few days at NPH, Katie Ann and I went to the beach!!! This is looking at the tide pool area at high tide!

After a few days at NPH, Katie Ann and I went to the beach!!! This is looking at the tide pool area at high tide!

First time for me swimming in an ocean, ever. First time for Katie Ann seeing the Pacific Ocean (I’ve seen it before but had only gotten my feet wet.)

First time for me swimming in an ocean, ever. First time for Katie Ann seeing the Pacific Ocean (I’ve seen it before but had only gotten my feet wet.)

Low tide! Such awesome views.

Low tide! Such awesome views.

The tide pool when you can actually swim in it.

The tide pool when you can actually swim in it.

Let’s just say, I was nerding out after witnessing the tides come and go and what is left behind.

Let’s just say, I was nerding out after witnessing the tides come and go and what is left behind.

Lens kept fogging up, which annoyed me, but I did get some cool pictures.

Lens kept fogging up, which annoyed me, but I did get some cool pictures.

Ah, if only that pesky black spot weren’t there.

Ah, if only that pesky black spot weren’t there.

Home (Falls)

Part 2 of the “Home” series

In spite of the fact that the first thing you hear is, Sure feel like escaping, so I hit the road, that’s not what I’m getting at. I believe that with Falls’ “Home” there are many interpretations. One obvious one for me is that of someone who ran away or at least deliberately decided to leave and then much later on realizes the value of home.

That would be a suitable interpretation, of course.

Though I did not run away or feel like escaping (as they sing), I did deliberately (but prayerfully and thoughtfully) make the decision to leave home and move to El Salvador and volunteer with Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos. As I mentioned in the first “Home” series post, I discovered through several experiences and over several years just what home means to me.

Home is not solely a tangible thing. It is not just a physical object, a pile of bricks with paint and glass and flowers out front. It is also the moment when you are surrounded by those you love. That moment or that special grouping of individuals doesn’t have to occur within a house.

On Easter Vigil night, I ventured out to the cancha (soccer field) while the boys were bringing out the cafeteria benches and setting up for the Easter sunrise Mass. That in itself was a comical and memorable experience, listening to some of them gripe at each other or argue about how to best set things up all while working with a few flashlights and very little light from the church’s floodlights, haha. There are no streetlights on the way to the field nor are there lights at the field. The field was in near darkness, save for the stars and sliver of moon. So, I found myself looking up at the sky. So big and so endless and so full of stars. I know that Tennessee is beautiful and that we have breathtaking views, but there is something about being in El Salvador, about being the person that I have become, that makes this sky view so much more special to me than any others I have seen.

We are far enough away and out in the country that I can’t see any lights from Santa Ana (the big city nearby) when I’m in the main part of the ciudadela (as we call it…which is to say, the main NPH campus); though, we do have our fair share of streetlights lining the roads and sidewalks that connect the houses and other buildings. Even in the cancha, one can see a few blinking tower lights and a small pocket of light from a nearby small town. However, the majority of the view is unobstructed by artificial structures, and light pollution is nonexistent.

Anyway, as the boys finished, only a few of them hung around to help with last minute tasks. While I was gazing at the sky, I started to pay attention to the three year of service boys standing a few feet away from me who weren’t actually doing any work, ha. “We’re supervising.” “Yeah…yeah! That’s right, we’re supervising.” Haha. They were cracking jokes, laughing, and having a merry old time standing in complete darkness. At that moment when I tuned in to their shenanigans, I realized I could tell the difference between the 3 of them though I could not see their faces: Wilfrido’s* almost high-pitched, infectious giggle that cracks me up every time; Abraham’s* serious and somber tone that masks a very funny and quick sense of humor; Alfonso’s* sarcastic quips and drawn out sentences pocketed with bouts of near silent laughter.

All 3 very different forms of expressing joy. All 3 forms united in one great big cacophony of joy and laughter. It was music to my ears. In that moment, I felt like my chest had grown in size, like my heart was about to burst. I was just so overwhelmed with how much I love them, these brothers of mine. I was overwhelmed with how at ease and how much at home I felt just by being able to hear them.

Falls sing:

And oh when those city lights are blinding, back across the bridge. Back into acceptance that this is where I live.

While there aren’t many city lights (as in, none) near NPH or even near my parents’ house and certainly not near my grandparents’ house, these “blinding lights” that draw me back toward home are people.

Just like my sisters, parents, and grandparents back in Tennessee as well as other loved ones in different states, I felt and feel like those 3 boys that Saturday night were lights pulling me in the direction of home. With and around them, I too feel loved. They are the blinding city lights that tell me I am home, that I am accepted.

And I know, yeah I know, it all comes back the moment I get home.

When I arrive at a place or moment when I am surrounded by the people that I love, I am reminded that I am home. The interestingly beautiful thing for me is that I have multiple places and many “city lights” with which to draw me home.

Many lights are put in our lives to help us get where we need to be. The blinding lights, at least for me, are the ones that guide me home and that lead me to the people that I love, wherever in the world that may be.

There’s song #2 in the Home series. There’s only one left! Stay tuned for that finalizing post to what’s been a fun series to write.

Don’t forget to give “Home” by Falls a listen on the main page. It’s a nice tune!

*Names changed to protect the pequeños’ privacy.

Lunch Table Wisdom

One Saturday at lunch, I didn’t sit in my usual spot at the table with my girls, las chicas. Because Tía Silvia was off that weekend, I sat her in place and so sat across from the girls I usually sit next to. It’s nice to change things up a bit and see different faces.

That day was not my favorite lunch, as it’s what I like to call “chicken parts” stew. It’s literally all the edible parts of a chicken cooked in a mildly spicy sauce, served with rice and a warm tortilla. Before I even sat down after the long walk to our table, I had given away my chicken portion to a girl who shouted “Quien me da comida?” faster than you can say “chicken parts” stew. Haha. Anyway, it turns out that thick slices of chili peppers were part of the sauce.

Melisa* (whom I normally sit next to, but that day sat across from) had one chili on her plate. At one point, I looked over at her and saw her rubbing the chili on her tortilla. I looked at her with this look as if to say, hey that’s probably not going to end well for you. (Those chilis pack a punch and then some, my friends!) She just smiled and kept doing it.

I watched Melisa take a bite. At first, there was no reaction. I asked her if it was spicy, and she said no. Then a few seconds later, Scarlet* asked Melisa if it was spicy. She shook her head yes. Then her eyes bugged out and she threw the tortilla back on to her plate and grabbed her cup of water and chugged it. Meanwhile, I was nonchalantly sipping my water, observing Melisa’s comical food episode.

As soon as I brought my hand down with my cup and set it on the table, Melisa seemed to have slammed her empty cup down right next to my hand at the same time. She looked at me with such desperation, such longing, such…well I don’t really know how else to describe it other than maybe she was the textbook definition of miserable. I knew her chili-rubbing experiment would end badly! And the results of that experiment were written all over her face.

Normally, the girls say at meal times “hey if you don’t want X or Y, give it to me, okay?” Sometimes, they’ll just straight up ask one another, “hey can I have some Z?” But in that particular instance with Melisa and the chili-rubbed tortilla, all sense of decorum was gone, lost to the warm air being blown around us by the industrial-sized fans on the wall and the residual burn of the chili in her mouth.

I didn’t even have to think. She didn’t have to ask. Her imploring eyes said it all.

I tipped my cup and poured all the water into hers. Ravenously, she tossed it all back. Having still not quenched the fire burning her mouth, she started asking the other girls for water in her frenzied state. Two other girls tipped what little water they had into Melisa’s cup. Mind you, at this point during lunch, a lot of the girls were finishing so there wasn’t much left to go around.

Minutes later, Scarlet (the other girl I sit next to, usually) took a bite of the same fiery tortilla. She had the same reaction. This time, I had no water to give away. Another girl, Lourdes*, just so happened to get more water from another table at that particular moment. She teased Scarlet endlessly with how long she took to pour some of the water into Scarlet’s cup. Then, when she was finally done taunting Scarlet by almost giving her the cup and then snatching it away, Lourdes knocked the cup over by accident.

Water went everywhere.

Scarlet gave Lourdes such a look that would turn even the strongest and most able-bodied of men to stone. It made me laugh, and I couldn’t stop laughing.

What I learned from that lunch table lesson is that sometimes, we watch people make decisions even though we don’t think they’re the smartest ones to make. Sometimes, when we advise them otherwise, people will go ahead and make those decisions anyway. We can’t control what others do or change them, even if we think it would benefit them. Sometimes, we just have to watch people fail.

However, we should be there for them all of the time. Not some of the time. All of the time. No matter what.

What my girls Melisa, Scarlet, and Lourdes taught me that afternoon was simple and yet profound. I knew what was going to happen to Melisa, and when it did, instead of being selfish and saying I told you so, I gave her the rest of my water. And even though Lourdes’ attempt to help Scarlet ended in laughable failure, she still reached out to help after a mild dose of teasing.

From small to big decisions in life, whether it’s a chili-rubbed tortilla adventure or deciding finances or big adult things like that, you’re there for the people you love not because you have to be there for them, but because you want to be. Because you love them.

Sometimes you can’t help them in the ways that they may want or think they need. At the very least, if you’re there for that person in the best way that you can be, I think that counts for something. It counts for everything.

Though, I’ll admit that if you try the chili-rubbed tortilla and can’t handle the fire, I’ll still laugh at you and share my water.

*Please note that I changed the names of the girls to protect their privacy.

Home (Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes)

Part 1 of the “Home” series

I got the idea one day when I was scrolling through the song list in my iPhone. Three of my favorite songs happen to be right in a row because of the alphabet. It amazes me how even the tiniest things grab my attention. I often listen to them, without putting my phone on shuffle. They all have the word “home” in the title, and obviously the concept of home is a huge theme of the song. One day, many moons ago, the idea for the “Home” series occurred. Of course I’m just now getting around to it…

The definition of home has changed for me these last few years, but it has especially been sharply defined since I moved to El Salvador and became a volunteer with Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos.

I remember redefining what home was when I first moved into Clement Hall my freshman year of college at the University of Tennessee. Of course, I still went home often to visit or do laundry. My room stayed the same, minus the few things I took with me to the dorm. However, I remember the first moments of confusion when I would talk with my parents about having to run home for something while I was out and about, etc. “Oh I’m on my way home.” “What, you’re coming by the house?” “No, I mean, I’m going back to the dorm. To my room.” That kind of stuff. Naturally, my dorm room and campus life became a home to me because I did live there.

Of course being accepted into college and then graduating high school months later was a humongous sign of growing up. For some reason though, it became clearer to me once I started having the “what is home” issue when I moved to campus. At first it was just about a physical place, but then it grew to my identity. Where was it rooted? Is it allowed to grow and change? Can my identity take on new colors and shapes and schemes or am I bound by the past and by my foundations? How do you learn and grow without losing who you are? How do I become my own person, an individual, without forsaking my family and friends?

I didn’t have a sheltered life, so I’m not too fond of this next cliché for what it implies, but it works for what I’m trying to say, which is…how do I cease being a caterpillar, break out of the cocoon, and become a butterfly? How can I be something different while still knowing my roots and acknowledging history and loving every moment and person along the way?

All of that started because of a seemingly simple problem of rationalizing my physical location because let’s face it, a lot of your identity can potentially be wrapped up in something physical, like a house.

I moved back to my parents for the summer after freshman year, then back to the dorms for sophomore year. However, the big change really took place when I didn’t move home pretty much at all the summer after sophomore year in 2011. I had a mini-term class which began the day after the spring semester officially ended. It was also 4 hours long, every day for 2 weeks. That’s a lot of driving from Lenoir City to campus for just one thing. Then, the day after the mini-term class ended, my summer class started. Fortunately for me, it only lasted for the first half of the summer term. The point is, when faced with such an odd class schedule and a new job that was only a few miles from campus, I couldn’t really bring myself to move home, to justify all that driving if I was presented with a more economical opportunity.

So for most of that summer, I camped out in my friend’s room at Tyson House, which is the Episcopal-Lutheran campus ministry house at UT. I had spent a lot of time there the first few years as a student. While Katie Ann was away being a camp counselor, her room became my new home for the summer. It was great. I lived with a few other Tyson House residents who were taking summer classes. (Fun fact – I was the only female resident for a few weeks until the other girl moved in. That was a new and neat experience as well!) I went back to my parents’ house almost every weekend though. After classes were over, I spent a week visiting family up in Ohio, and then I technically lived at my parents’ house for about week until I moved into my apartment right before the fall semester started.

I hadn’t spent that much time away from home in a long time. (Haha, well, until I moved out of the country. But we’re not there yet.) So what was home? While I still called the house in Lenoir City my home, I also frequently referred to it as “my parents’ house” and not just simply “home.” The change in my vocabulary was an indicator of the shift in my perception of what home was to me. Then, when my family entered a particularly difficult time during my last 2 years of college, we were faced with the possibility of not calling our home, home, anymore.

I remember the sense of panic, of what it would be like to not go back to the place that I call home. Now, I’ll admit to you that I put a lot of stock into physical things as ways of holding onto memories. That is, I keep things and hold onto them tightly because I think they serve as a valuable connection. Even though I wasn’t born in Tennessee, we’ve lived there the longest. I feel like I’ve mostly grown up there, especially in that house. So I found the possibility of saying goodbye to it very challenging.

Then one day, a thought occurred to me. If I can but for one moment lay aside my attachment to the house, what then do I define a home as, if it isn’t in fact a tangible object?

Suddenly, my worries seemed rather trite when I thought about that question. You know why? Because as Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes sing,

Oh home, let me come home. Home is whenever I’m with you. Oh home, let me come home. Home is when I’m alone with you.

At least, that’s what they sing in the studio version of this song. I’ve got a live version from a Daytrotter session where they change things up a bit and instead sing,

Oh home, yes we are home. Home is wherever there is you. Oh home, yeah we are home. Home you are me and I am you.

Either as stand-alone verses or in thinking of them together, the message is clear to me. Home is being with the ones that we love. Home in this sense is not a place but instead is a gathering of or a union of the people that we love. Our family and our friends. Whenever we are with each other, we are home.

Now I know that I haven’t been with my family and friends for quite some time, almost 10 months as of this writing in fact. I miss them all very much. I’ve had very small bouts of homesickness. These tiny bouts don’t occur that often, actually. In the beginning I struggled with that feeling. Shouldn’t I feel weird that I’m not dying to go home? Well, the honest truth is no, I don’t have to feel weird. It all gradually became clear to me. I’ve always considered the pequeños of NPH El Salvador as family, so in a way when I came down, I just came back to a very big family. NPH isn’t the one that raised me, but it’s my family nonetheless.

One night, one of the high school girls and I were talking about when I was leaving and why. Though I didn’t have time to explain everything, I mentioned that I would like to see my family and friends. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. She thought about that for a few seconds, and without missing a beat responded with, “Well, you don’t have to go back to the United States for that. Your family and your friends are right here.”

She’s right.

So if I’m in the US, El Salvador, or somewhere else entirely, what I do know is that whenever I am with the people that I love, I am home. Day by day, I am forming my identity outside of the physical house that I grew up in. I know for a fact that I am not the same person that I was when I started college, nor am I the same person that I was when I left the US. And that is such a good thing.

Change and growth are so beautiful when we allow ourselves to be open and vulnerable to it. So I acknowledge my roots and that physical home I grew up in, but I also now count an entirely different country and group of people as home and as family. That’s awesome.

So, there’s Part 1 of the “Home” series. In keeping with the original idea, the posts are in order of how the songs appear in my iPhone. Stay tuned for the next post.

Don’t forget to give “Home” by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes a listen on the main page! It just might change your life!

Alegría

What is alegría?

In its simplest form or definition, it means joy in Spanish.

The word “joy” is a nice English word in and of itself. For me, it conjures up beautiful images and can be manifested differently. However, as much as I like sound of the word, I’ve come to discover that I much prefer the Spanish word, alegría.

In my time here in El Salvador, being surrounded by and using Spanish, I’ve noticed that I do that a lot lately, prefer Spanish words over English words. Sometimes there are words in Spanish that, for me, capture an entire thought or idea or whatever…that is, what I feel can sometimes be expressed in one or two words in Spanish rather than several words in English. I think that’s pretty cool.

Anyway, back to the point – alegría. According to my experiences in the Spanish-speaking world (and also Merriam-Webster’s Spanish dictionary), alegría is defined as: joy, cheer, happiness.

Joy, cheer, happiness

Now, there are other, similar words such as: gozo, felicidad, placer. But for some reason, for me, alegría just does it for me. If words could “get” people, then alegría gets me. Know what I’m saying?

In my almost 8 months here, I’ve had an infinite number of joyful moments. I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately though because of two things in particular – a conversation and a photograph.

It was no surprise for me that when I got here, there would be children that wouldn’t want to talk, that wouldn’t come up and ask me millions of questions. There are shy kids, quiet kids…kids just like I was. Well, just like I am. Whatever the reasons may be, we’re just quiet with and around each other. Here’s an example from a previous post:

…almost 5 months had passed when one of the older girls finally opened up and started talking with me; at least it became more than just saying hello in passing. Just a few weeks ago, she felt comfortable enough with me to cry on my shoulder. I would never have expected that when I first met her.

In addition to shy, quiet, and/or reserved kids, the other issue is that I don’t see the university students very often. Those few that I have made connections with just so happened to have stayed here at our main facility for an extended amount of time; or, they were here finishing their years of service and have just recently left the campus to go study and live in our university houses in Santa Ana.

So, it wasn’t until the days leading up to Christmas that I created a bond with two of the university guys. For whatever reason, we just clicked and now get along swimmingly. We’re able to joke and tease each other, but we can also talk about serious things or subjects with much depth.

They both left not too long ago, at different times. The one guy returned for the weekend the other day, and we picked up our usual banter as if he hadn’t left and been away for a few weeks. That moment in itself was joyful and full of alegría when I ran into him.

However, it wasn’t until the conversation left its usual lightheartedness and became serious that I fully understood what alegría is. I’m not one to betray confidences, so I won’t discuss what he and I talked about. Suffice to say though, it was a very deep and beautiful conversation.

It’s not very often (really, ever) that I get those moments with the pequeños. Where all the barriers are down, and life is looked at and discussed for what it is.

That is alegría. Being human. Being human and sharing the human experience with someone.

It is being able to be trusted and confided in. It is joyful, full of cheer, full of happiness. And everything else that I simply can’t put into words. Oh how I wish you all could just feel what I feel by being here!

So there’s the first thing – the conversation. The easier and shorter moment to share with you is a photograph. Well, I lied. It’s multiple photographs…

This is the picture I intially thought of. Keep thinking about it, honestly. She's just so alive and joyful. Alegría.

This is the picture I intially thought of. Keep thinking about it, honestly. She’s just so alive and joyful. Alegría.

You see...

You see…

...what I mean?

…what I mean?

I know for a fact that I didn’t do the word and the meaning justice, but it’s my attempt nonetheless. Alegría, what a wonderful thing.

Torneo de Fútbol

As I mentioned in a previous post, I spent the last week of November at NPH Guatemala, for the 7th annual NPH International Soccer Tournament. The tournament is held every year in honor of NPH founder, Fr. William Wasson. Five of the nine homes join together to play a lot of fútbol, laugh, and so much more.

This year, the tournament was named after Ryan Rossi, and NPH was so blessed and fortunate that the Rossi family could support us. Without them, the tournament would not have been possible. Welcome to our NPH family!

I went with our directors, the drivers, and one of the office employees. So basically, we were the smallest cheering section of the 5 countries, haha. I tagged along to document the experience in addition to helping take care of the girls. It was such an incredible experience on so many different levels! In 6 days time, I took almost 2,600 pictures. That number doesn’t include what I deleted on the go, and I can’t take credit for all of the pictures, as I did hand my camera off to some of the kids who love taking pictures as well.

So, here is the rest of November in photo review – this time from NPH Guatemala!

The boys checking out the field minutes after we got to NPH Guatemala

The boys checking out the field minutes after we got to NPH Guatemala

The weather was much chillier than anything the kids have experienced in El Salvador. For me, it felt like fall in East Tennessee (so, it was awesome, haha), but the girls didn’t let the cold stop them from having fun and being silly the first night there.

The weather was much chillier than anything the kids have experienced in El Salvador. For me, it felt like fall in East Tennessee (so, it was awesome, haha), but the girls didn’t let the cold stop them from having fun and being silly the first night there.

Here I am checking out the week’s schedule, trying to memorize it haha.

Here I am checking out the week’s schedule, trying to memorize it haha.

Looking sharp

Looking sharp

Our teams with the Rossi family parents. They are such a great family!

Our teams with the Rossi family parents. They are such a great family!

This year’s tournament logo

This year’s tournament logo

El Salvador’s first match: our girls versus Guatemala

El Salvador’s first match: our girls versus Guatemala

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Our national director came up behind me and scared me, haha. I’m not crying in this picture, but laughing instead.

Our national director came up behind me and scared me, haha. I’m not crying in this picture, but laughing instead.

The girls won! We started and finished every match the kids played, win or lose, with prayer.

The girls won! We started and finished every match the kids played, win or lose, with prayer.

The boys’ first match was against Mexico.

The boys’ first match was against Mexico.

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Just a few minutes after our loss to Mexico, we went over to watch another game. Here’s one of our kids sitting with one of the players from NPH Mexico. That’s an example of being part of the NPH family right there!

Just a few minutes after our loss to Mexico, we went over to watch another game. Here’s one of our kids sitting with one of the players from NPH Mexico. That’s an example of being part of the NPH family right there!

Oh don’t pay any attention to the awesome backdrop we had over at the girls’ playing field.

Oh don’t pay any attention to the awesome backdrop we had over at the girls’ playing field.

Girls’ first match of the second day of the tournament – versus Nicaragua

Girls’ first match of the second day of the tournament – versus Nicaragua

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Boys’ first match against Guatemala

Boys’ first match against Guatemala

Girls second match of the day – against Honduras. Also, the girl in focus is readying herself to block the kick with her back. She did that countless times during the match. I was so impressed! She never did complain about her back hurting or being sore…I know I would haha.

Girls second match of the day – against Honduras. Also, the girl in focus is readying herself to block the kick with her back. She did that countless times during the match. I was so impressed! She never did complain about her back hurting or being sore…I know I would haha.

The United States, Mexico, and El Salvador all in one.

The United States, Mexico, and El Salvador all in one.

Boys second match of the day – against Honduras

Boys second match of the day – against Honduras

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That’s what I like to see, helping each other out.

That’s what I like to see, helping each other out.

My boys! Such a fierce looking group, no?

My boys! Such a fierce looking group, no?

Boys against Nicaragua for a spot in the semifinals.

Boys against Nicaragua for a spot in the semifinals.

We lost…and closed the game like this.

We lost…and closed the game like this.

“Let’s all pile on Ashley!” What’s unfortunately missing are the photos preceding this event, in which 6 girls all piled on top. We were all hanging out and having fun in the grass, as we had the entire morning/early afternoon free on the third day of the tournament.

“Let’s all pile on Ashley!” What’s unfortunately missing are the photos preceding this event, in which 6 girls all piled on top. We were all hanging out and having fun in the grass, as we had the entire morning/early afternoon free on the third day of the tournament.

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Girls against Mexico for a spot in the semifinals.

Girls against Mexico for a spot in the semifinals.

Culture night. A thorn between 4 roses.

Culture night. A thorn between 4 roses.

Girls game against Guatemala for a spot in the finals. We lost.

Girls game against Guatemala for a spot in the finals. We lost.

I spent my Thanksgiving at NPH and in Antigua! That’s pumpkin pie sitting in front of me 

I spent my Thanksgiving at NPH and in Antigua! That’s pumpkin pie sitting in front of me 

Seconds after the time ran out and the Guatemalan girls won the final match, on their home turf! Congrats.

Seconds after the time ran out and the Guatemalan girls won the final match, on their home turf! Congrats.

The final match between Honduras and Nicaragua was a good one.

The final match between Honduras and Nicaragua was a good one.

The Honduran boys celebrating their win with their national director

The Honduran boys celebrating their win with their national director

More celebrations on the field! This photo makes me happy.

More celebrations on the field! This photo makes me happy.

Both our girls’ and boys’ teams won the “Most Disciplined” award. We’re awesome!

Both our girls’ and boys’ teams won the “Most Disciplined” award. We’re awesome!

It can’t be a journey without at least one meal at Pollo Campero!

It can’t be a journey without at least one meal at Pollo Campero!

With the girls in Antigua’s town center on our fun/outing day in one of my favorite cities

With the girls in Antigua’s town center on our fun/outing day in one of my favorite cities

Taking the traditional photo with the arch in the background

Taking the traditional photo with the arch in the background

We were standing under a tree looking for someone when I turned and saw the bird poop. Haha! He literally just finished making fun of me for having to buy size 41 sandals (like a women’s size 11 in the US) in the market. Payback’s the best.

We were standing under a tree looking for someone when I turned and saw the bird poop. Haha! He literally just finished making fun of me for having to buy size 41 sandals (like a women’s size 11 in the US) in the market. Payback’s the best.

Update and A Slice of Happy

Well, this is embarrassing.

The whole point of this blog was to help in sharing my experiences. What have I done? I’ve been quiet for the last 2 months. My sincerest apologies!

I know it’s an easy way out, but it’s the truth when I say that I have been busy. There has been soooo much going on, it’s great! At times, it’s an exhausting kind of day when I get back to my room, so I tell myself, oh I’ll write tomorrow. Then I don’t.

My only disclaimer is that my Facebook friends have been kept up to speed…it’s way easier for me to post updates there. Though I also have more constraints with that medium. Here on the blog, it feels like the world is my oyster, so to speak. And I tend to go more in-depth with my experiences here (which requires more time than a quick Facebook status takes), few and far between though they may be.

Anyway…here’s a quick recap. Then I’ll start posting posts with some more meat to them, as they say.

I realized I never told you this, but back in the middle of October, I went to NPH Guatemala/Antigua/Panajachel, Guatemala for 6 days (note: got a post coming up that’s sort of related to the trip). A family that has been instrumental in supporting and fundraising for NPH, practically since its inception back in 1954, came for a visit. They have worked with NPH for what seems like forever, so it was a wonderful opportunity to have met them. It was almost like meeting Fr. Wasson himself with the stories that I heard. Anyway, the family’s original travel plans changed right before they left NPH El Salvador, so they “borrowed” me for a few days to help translate while they visited at NPH Guatemala and went to do a few tourist-y things. You could say that it was an awesome working vacation. It was great!

November came. I ceased working at the school because classes were over, so I went full time in the office. We had a lot of visitors for various reasons, and I had roommates for practically the entire month. We hosted a spiritual workshop for 5 of the NPH homes, a large group of sponsors from the US came to visit; we celebrated kindergarten and 9th grade graduations and quinceañeras for 12 of our beautiful girls. In the middle of all of those activities – which happened within the same week – I turned 23. It was the best birthday that I have ever had, seriously. I’ve never received so many surprises in one day. Who knew that 23 could be so awesome?

The last week of November, 25 of our kids went to NPH Guatemala to participate in the 7th annual NPH International Soccer Tournament. I was fortunate enough to go along and document the experience and be a caregiver for our girls’ team. For me, November was the month that was and wasn’t. It flew by so fast and there was so much going on, I sometimes don’t remember that it happened, though I have the photographic evidence to prove otherwise. In one November week alone, I took almost 4,000 pictures, and I’ve been here 6 months!

The majority of December has also been incredibly busy and packed full of many fun things. Of course, we’re still in December so more on those experiences and happenings later on.

As many of my friends who have visited and become a part of the NPH family can attest, NPH is a wonderful place and is creating positive change in the world one child at a time. In speaking with a friend, our mutual discovery was that you really can’t find this kind of happiness anywhere else outside of NPH. It’s almost unreal. Recently I’ve come across two magnificent quotes, and I’d like to share them with you. The first comes from this season’s Little Blue Book (daily reflections and prayer for the Advent season; they also make books for Lent and Easter – check it out!):

“Whatever God wants me to be is the happiest life I could ever have.”

This next quote is from Vicki L. Kucia:

“Life is too short not to do something you love every day.”

My challenge to you is (if you haven’t found it already) go find that something that makes you happy. Find that something that you love and invest yourself in it, heart and soul. I think it’s safe to say that I’m doing what God wants me to do, and I couldn’t be happier. I also can’t imagine not being here at NPH.

At NPH, we always say that our doors and our hearts are always open to you. So come visit! Perhaps being a part of the NPH family is just the “thing” for you.

Paz y bien, Ashley.