Thanksgiving Day Pork

Hace tanto tiempo, no?

It’s been a while since I’ve written. Oops. I’m kinda surprised Aunt Terri hasn’t gotten on my case more about that. She’s too nice to me.

So what have I been up to, what’s the news? The answer is a lot. Of everything. From sharing time with my friends at El Arca, to making dinner with and for friends from the barrio, life is getting busy.

Last week I had a retreat with the other volunteers of my program. It was “super lindo” as one might say around here. We spent last week on an organic farm in Oberá, Misiones (see the red dot below)

 

 

We stayed in a retreat house on the farm, and I loved its name: The bungalow. Excellent name for a retreat house. There was time to share our experiences, relax, SPEAK FLIPPIN ENGLISH, worship together, look at the stars, jump in the river, say hi to the cows, eat some real good food, and generally enjoy ourselves. It was wonderful. For me, it’s the perfect kind of retreat.

It’s no coincidence that this retreat is planned during Thanksgiving. While many volunteers will celebrate Christmas with their communities, Thanksgiving is not celebrated in Argentina. That’s not to say that people here aren’t thankful, it’s just hard to celebrate a supposed dinner that was shared by the pilgrims and native Americans….in a country where this didn’t happen. However, it is about this day that I want to share the bulk of my post.

Supposedly, when the pilgrims arrived on the shores of what is now the United States, they shared a dinner with the natives of the land. It’s obvious why this dinner is still celebrated today, because people of a foreign land were graciously welcomed into a new home. Not only were they welcomed, but they were invited to share a meal. They were invited to share a table together. In this welcoming and sharing, the pilgrims and natives gave thanks for all they had, and their newfound relationship.

Now, I’m not sure this ever actually happened, and I have a lot of friends who don’t think very highly of Mr. Columbus and his arrival to the land, but I’m not super concerned with whether or not this ever happened.

The message and importance of a story does not rely on its actual existence but on its ability to connect to our lives, and move our hearts.

This Thanksgiving, I was in a new land, eating food that was not my own, given to me by people I had just met. The welcome I received at the farm, and the benevolence with which they served me, made the Thanksgiving story all the more powerful in my heart. While I dug into my mud-oven baked pork, I reflected on the Thanksgiving story. Perhaps, I thought, Thanksgiving isn’t so much about giving thanks, as it is about sharing, welcome, AND giving thanks. Maybe, I pondered, the Thanksgiving story calls us to be people who share, open our doors with gracious welcome, and have hearts that give thanks for every. single. beat.

What ever happened to sharing? When we’re kids (especially kids with siblings) sharing is a lesson that is absolutely necessary. Yet, I feel like the force with which we are pushed to share as kids, gets lost when we grow up. Our lives turn from “SHARE WITH YOUR BROTHER,” to “I earned what I have and it’s MINE.” It’s easy to forget that everything we have is a gift—even if we work for it. Furthermore, we become scared that what we have isn’t enough, thus we choose to guard it with force. And so we forget the important childhood lesson of sharing. Yet on that fateful Thanksgiving Day all those years ago, the natives of the land didn’t think for a minute about how hard that had worked to harvest the food, or the long hours it took to plant and grow everything, nor did they question whether or not they would have enough for the next day. Heck, these natives seemed to understand better than most what Jesus means when he says, “Give us this day our daily bread.” In knowing that everything they had was a gift, they chose to share with the odd looking pale people who came to them in giant wind-boats.

I also find it interesting that a huge part of the story is that the pilgrims were welcomed to share a meal. During thanksgiving, we usually focus on our families. Which, I think, is a great thing! I love my family a ton, and miss them a lot. It’s just interesting that the story on which this day was founded includes an aspect of welcoming those who need. It includes an aspect of invitation to someone who has no place to go. Now I’m not here to be political, and I’m definitely not against spending time with your family, I just think there are a lot of people in the world who have need. And maybe on a day when we’re called to share, welcome, and give thanks, we might do a little something for one of those people.

This Thanksgiving I also had a new perspective on what it means to be thankful. Especially thankful for family. This was the first time in my life I wasn’t with my family on Thanksgiving. Sure, it’s not the biggest deal in the world, but that didn’t stop me from shedding a few tears when I called home. #mommasboy. For indeed it is when we are lacking that we truly appreciate what we have. I can only imagine what the pilgrims felt after months of travel, waaaaay too much time on a boat, and no real form of communication with the homeland. When the natives welcomed them in community, the only natural response was to give thanks.

As I said above, it’s not really important to me if this story ever really happened. The fact that we still talk about it and celebrate it’s meaning is more than enough for me to allow it to move my heart and try to live into the story.

Thus as I ate my pork, and watched a turkey happily live his Thanksgiving-free Argentine life, I gave thanks for where I was, felt motivated to continue to share my life with those in Argentina, and looked forward to welcoming the next person, meal, friend, day, opportunity, or adventure that presented itself to me.

 

Con Amor

-Nate

 

P.S. The next adventure presented itself quickly with a post-retreat trip to Iguazu falls.

Called to Love

Hola Hola!

So I’ve been here for about a month now, and gone from home for almost 2. Time flies when you’re having fun, no?

When I studied abroad in Scotland, I wrote a blog every week, without fail. It was my report, my connection to home, and my diary. But here….that’s just not the case. I don’t have the intense motivation to write weekly. I’ve been asking myself recently why this is the case. My answer, like many things in my life, began by asking, “What was the purpose of my blog in Scotland?”

The purpose of my blog was another lifeline to home. Scotland was like a science experiment. I never really invested in the place, I was going through an experience, and I was doing it alone (more or less). I wanted to document said experience, and I wanted to share my thoughts and feelings with those I left at home, because home was where my heart was. I didn’t give my heart to Scotland….I just gave my time. (Don’t get me wrong, it was totally worth going to Scotland, and I’m super happy I did, but I just never really invested my life there) But here, I’m not having an experience by myself.

My time in Argentina is about community. I’m called to give my attention, time, and life to the people here. I would even say I’m called to give my heart to this place. It’s pretty darn simple. I’m called to love. Heck, make it even more simple, I’m called to be friends with the people in my community. Make friends. Doesn’t get much simpler than that. However, if I choose to guard my heart and say it is “only for the people I already know and love,” then I hurt the people here and lose out on the beauty of who they are. And I want to love them. I want to love them regardless of ability, capacity, economic status, race, or gender. I think just plain loving people is incredibly important and lacking in today’s world (probably because it’s a lot harder than it looks). These people have lovingly opened their doors for me, and asked me to share in their story. How dare I guard my heart when they so willingly give theirs.

So in that way, I don’t feel like I need to share as many thoughts in a blog. I don’t want to escape from this place, I want to want to be here.

And so, to be honest, I’ve been trying to understand just how big my heart is. It is big enough to fit all the people I love at home AND all the new friends I have here? Seriously. Just how big is your heart? How much can it hold? I think it’s big enough for everyone. It’s kinda weird to share space sometimes, but sharing is caring, right? But that leads to the really scary thought:

If my heart can hold everything I love at home AND everything here, who’s to say it can’t hold even MORE people? And who’s to say that I’m some special person who can love more than anyone else? What if we all have the capacity to love the entire world, but we’re just too scared to try? WHAT ABOUT THEM APPLES, HUH!?

It’s scary because if we love everyone, we might have to change how we live. We might have to actually care. And the good Lord knows that apathy is much easier than love.

Jesus was once asked about this idea. Check it out:

25 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus.[a] “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” 27 He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” 28 And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”
29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii,[b] gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” 37 He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.” Luke 10:25-37

When we love people, we might have to help a little more than is easy. Loving is hard. Jesus says that the neighbor was the person who “showed mercy”, but I disagree (HA! I disagree with Jesus. Kind of a big deal…). I think all of these people are neighbors, but the Samaritan was the neighbor who loved. And when he loved, he did something to help. And we all have the capacity to love. It’s just up to you if you want to cultivate your loving side or not.

 
Con amor
Nate

From Jerusalem, to Babylon.

Well, I’ve been here for a little more than two weeks. I think it’s time to let everyone know what I’m actually doing. Therefore, this post won’t be so much about deep thoughts I’ve been having (although there are always plenty of those), so much as a description of what my daily life looks like.

I arrived Saturday September 5^th to my “hogar”(home). I was welcomed to the community by the pastor, his wife, and the director of the hogar. I live in a hogar that is for women who are working or studying and need a good place to stay. Since I am volunteering for the church that is connected to the hogar, they have given me a wonderful room and bathroom to use while I live here. My neighborhood is very nice. I don’t feel scared to walk around, or that I stick out like a sore thumb. I enjoy exploring the stores and local areas, and hope to know this place really well by the time I leave. I want to be able to say that I lived here, and know where you can get the best food and dessert, and how to travel to the city. It’s part of being a part of a community (example: the best food in St. Peter is probably Patties, but depending on who you are I might recommend the Coop). Right now, I’m very satisfied with a coffee shop on corner of J.B. Alberdi and Alejandro Witcomb.

The church I work at is called Santo Sacramento. I work there on Sundays. Every Sunday morning, I go to the church service, and then afterwards, I work with the kids of a neighboring barrio who come to the church for some lunch. Though I work with the kids (of varying ages), it’s really a mix of all people who attend Sunday school. What exactly do I do? Well as I write this, it is The International Day of Peace so yesterday we talked about what peace means, and why a day of peace exists. This was followed by lunch. Then we usually just hang out and play soccer or something. So essentially, it’s church, learning important things, food, fun. Pretty solid Sunday, if you ask me.

My main focus at Santo Sacramento is what happens on Sunday, so I also have a second site placement. During the week, I work at a home called “El Arca.” El Arca is a Spanish translation for “L’Arche.” L’Arche communities can be found around the world. These communities were started in France, to create loving homes for people who are differently abled. These people who live in these homes are sometimes known as acogidos, which means “those who are taken in.” Which is cool, because I could be considered an acogido in this community. I have been taken in. During the day I accompany a group of acogidos who are differently-abled work, and go through daily life. There are two locations that are important to my job: the taller (pronounced tah-share, and essentially means workshop) and the hogar of El Arca. During the day, a group of 7-12 acogidos work on projects at the taller. The group then migrates to the hogar for lunch and a siesta. After the siesta, most of the group returns to the taller for a few hours before going to their various homes. The ones who stay at the hogar, actually live there full time. So my time is spread between projects at the taller, lunch at the hogar, daily life at the hogar, fun projects at the taller, or something in between. I really believe it is a trait of the members of El Arca to love first and ask questions second. I think this is one of the things I need to learn from this community. I want them to teach me how to love. I feel welcome and safe, yet challenged and pushed to accompany these people in their daily lives.

My first week here was really good! I felt more comfortable than I originally thought I would. I think this is because I feel like I have a community and a purpose here. When I studied abroad, I did not find a community like this, and my purpose did not include other people. Here, I have been welcomed with loving arms into a journey filled with purpose, meaning, and intention. For those reasons, my first week went really well.

I won’t lie, my second week was a little bit harder. Things weren’t as new and “novel,” so I missed home a little more. Once things become “normal,” you realize that you have up and down days, just like at home. But I was still happy to be here, and trying to build meaningful relationships.

For the most part, you can find me in one of four places: My house, the church, the hogar of El Arca, or the taller of El Arca.

That should at least give you a background as to what I do here. From now on, I hope to post blogs that are more story-based, or thought-based.

 

To be fair to all the readers out there who want something interesting to think about, I do have something for you. Before the volunteers went to our various places, we had a sending worship service with our Country Coordinators Krystle and Ignacio. Krystle’s sending thoughts were largely based off of this Bible verse (Jeremiah 29:4-14):

This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon:

“Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” Yes, this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: “Do not let the prophets and diviners among you deceive you. Do not listen to the dreams you encourage them to have. They are prophesying lies to you in my name. I have not sent them,” declares the Lord.

This is what the Lord says: “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”

 

This is how I feel about being here. Although, I want to make it very clear that I am NOT an exile, and have been overwhelmed by the welcome I received, there is a lot to this story I carry with me.

1) I have been called here. Reread the first line like this: This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to Nate whom he carried into service from his home to Argentina.” I am not an exile, but I am far from home. I have been carried here by a call to service, and now I have left my Jerusalem. I have left my holy land. My paradise. My home.

2) I must prosper here. After God sends the exiles out of Jerusalem, he tells them to prosper. He tells them to plant roots and grow. Indeed, if the city prospers, so shall they. I must plant roots here, in my own way. I’m not trying to have children during this year, but I need to invest myself in this place. And indeed if it prospers, so shall I.

3) I will come home. The Lord promises the exiles that their exile is not forever. After 70 years, they will be called back to their home. Ok, I’m not tryna spend 70 years here, but the point is that my time here is limited. I have been called here. I must invest in this place. BUT, my “exile” is not forever. I am called to return to my Jerusalem. I carry with me everyday the knowledge that I get to go home and share my experience. One day I will again embrace those I love. One day I will be in my holy land, my paradise, and my home.

So although time away can be hard, I always carry my Jerusalem in my heart, knowing that after my time away is done, I will return, and I will return with stories, wisdom, and probably some mate.

 

Lots of Love,

Nate

On the road again

So here we go again. A new journey with much ahead, and much to learn. I wrote my last blog for the Scotland adventure about 10 months ago, which was about 6 months since I had returned from Scotland. Now, as I sit on my bed in Argentina, it is time to again to take the first steps on this new journey.

All journeys must have a beginning. After completing my degree at Gustavus (a place that will have a very special part of my heart forever), I decided to join the Young Adults in Global Mission program. This program, created by the ELCA, invites young adults ages 21-29 into a transformative, year-long journey in international service. Through this experience, the young adults bear witness to how God acts through different cultures. They build relationships with companion churches and organizations in one of nine countries around the world. After an intentional interview process, I was chosen to serve in Buenos Aires, Argentina. So although this is a new adventure, it is not just some trip abroad. During my time in Argentina, I will work with a Sunday school, and at a vocational center and residence for high-functioning adults who are differently-abled. I look to this year and hope to grow, learn, and build new relationships. When I come home, I hope my stories and experiences will allow my home community to experience God’s work in the world. That’s what I’m up to, that’s where I’m going, and wow will this be an exciting year.

I would also like to talk about the title of this blog series. Way up at the top of the website underneath the Argentina flag. Learning to Tango with my Mate. I want to do this one, because it took me a long time to think of, and two because it has a lot of meaning to it.

Part one: Alan Watts once said, “The only way to make sense of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” This year abroad brings great change in a multitude of ways. If I am to thrive within this change, I must choose to join the dance. I must choose to flow and move with this vibrant Argentine culture and the remarkable people within it. The Tango is a famous part of this vibrant culture. In saying that I must learn to Tango, I am saying I must learn to grow, change, and move within the Argentine culture.

Part two: Mate. Mate, pronounced mah-tay, is a drink that is also distinctly Argentine. I’m sure that there will be a blog in the future explaining the specificities of what it is, but what is important for you to know right now is that Mate is a drink that is always shared. As far as I can tell, you don’t order Mate at your local Starbucks on the way to work. You bring it out while in community to share the drink and share in the company of one another. This is exactly why I wanted it in the title. I am in Argentina to build community and relationships. That is the most important part of this year. As we move towards an ever more diverse and globalized society, it is of the upmost importance to try to build relationships with other people, instead of destroy them. God calls for us to build His kingdom, Martin Luther King Jr. calls for us to build the Beloved Society, and gosh darnit I just want people to get along. Mate is all about building community so it totally fits in the title.

Part three: I am learning to Tango with my Mate. I am learning to understand the foreign aspects of this culture while also attempting to build meaningful relationships with the people that are here. I am trying to join the dance in relationship with these people.

Part four: If you read mate in English (as most of you probably did), it says I’m learning to tango with my mate, as in partner. Ha. I’m so funny.

All in all, this will be a very different experience then my last abroad experience was. Why? Probably because I feel called to be here, there was a ton more intentionality behind choosing this program and being selected to go to Buenos Aires, and there is a wonderful community waiting to welcome me with open arms. Because of their willingness to welcome me, it makes me that much more ready to welcome them into my life.

And so here I am, on the road again.

Trying to join the dance.

Nate

Picture of the day: The Argentina Group + Ignacio, who is one of our Country Coordinators, out and about.