Singing on the streets

We must have been quite a spectacle, singing on the subway station floor. There were 5 norteamericanas and maybe 8 street kids, some pregnant teenagers and some toddlers and everybody singing at the top of their lungs. Minutes before, they had been huffing glue, and the smell was still strong. But at least during the songs, they were clapping and belting out lyrics and laughing instead. We played guitar down there for a solid hour or so. Quite a few Argentinean passers-by stopped to ask who we where and what we were doing; a couple stopped and sang with us. And as we sang 'cambiare mi tristeza, cambiare mi verguenza', and as we sang about seeing things change, I knew things were changing. In the middle of alcohol and drugs and dirty skin and clothes, I think God was there, somehow.

God's in the villa, too. After class on Friday, one of my students' mom made us this traditional paraguayan cornbread, and sat and talked with us for a while. She has 6 kids, and has lived in the slum for a while now; she goes to the Esperanza church, sings with the music team, takes English classes with Jeremiah. (The pastor's wife, Sarah Chang, calls him 'misionero Jeremias' and we think it's hilarious, so we all call him that too). She wants so badly for things to change in her villa. It's pretty bad: people from the outside usually never go in because they'll get robbed, kids will sell what they rob for pasta base (this drug that's essentially a cheap and more toxic version of cocaine), addicted to drugs and violence their future looks pretty dim. But talking to her was more hopeful than depressing. She writes theater, and it's theater about living a different way. She shared with us about times when they performed her plays in parks, the emotional reactions that people had. She's got six kids in a slum, and she still believes that creativity can change things. She still takes the time to share her food with us. I may be teaching the kids here action verbs in English, but these families are teaching me what true faith & generosity can look like. I'm humbled, to say the least.

And I'm also learning a lot from my church. The Iglesia Bautista Evangelica de Constitucion (I don't think I've actually told you guys the name of the church! My bad.) is a pretty eye-opening place. I'd say between about 1/4 and about half of the committed members are homeless, or have been homeless in the recent past. We eat together after church every week, and I'm always amazed by how much they know. Most of them are oldish men, and I'm often surprised when they have more insights on American politics than I do; a lot of them are really bright. They've been through a lot more than me, and have a lot to teach. In Sunday morning bible study this week (I used to sleep through them, but apparently since I'm living at the church I have to go. Whoops.), we read in James: "Listen, my dear brothers: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him? But you have insulted the poor. Is it not the rich who are exploiting you? Are they not the ones who are dragging you into court? Are they not the ones who are slandering the noble name of him to whom you belong?" Laura (who lives in the room below me and who is becoming a wonderful friend to Megan and I) spoke up about what it was like for her to sleep on the streets, and how she could only sleep for an hour or so at a time during the day to make sure she wouldn't get robbed. Everyone then talked about different ways that it can be easy to 'exploit' and show prejudice, and how maybe we can live a different way. The bible talks a LOT about poverty, and it makes so much more sense to read through it with people who have lived that experience.

So basically, I'm learning a lot.

Prayer...

Gratitude because I'm HEALED! I went from vomiting to snotting to coughing, and now my cough is slowly but surely dying away. And gratitude for Nacho Libre--some of you know that it's my favorite movie ever, and we watched a bootleg copy from peru the other day. We only watched the first half because the second part, from the party scene on, kept freezing. Oh well.

Pray for hope. In individuals lives; seeing them huff glue at the train station was hard for me. Pray for us to be able to share what hope we have with them when they don't have any.

One of the families we've gotten really really close to is about to have a baby, this Thursday in fact. Pray for all to go well with that! It'll be the third kid, a baby boy. A whole lot of responsibility. Especially when their job is selling newspapers a voluntad in the train station.

Pray for depth. It's kind of vague I guess, but I feel like I'm experiencing some really amazing community with the staff and volunteers, and I want to grow that community to fully include the kids on the street, and the families at the villa. It's happening already, but prayer doesn't hurt.

Thank all of you for reading this. :) I want to put up pictures, but someone accidentally deleted all the pictures from my camera (everythings in English, and most people here don't speak any), so I'm now starting from scratch. Sorrry...