Tú Pones Lo Demás

Sept. 1, 2013

As I´ve previously expressed through this blog, sometimes things don´t go quite as one might have planned here at the Finca.  Most recently we´ve had a bit of a personnel change here …and surprise! I’m a kindergarten teacher!  Sara, who has been a missionary here for 2 years, went home in July and recently decided that she will not be returning.  Sara´s father is very sick (please keep him in your prayers), and she decided to be with him and her family.  Sara’s job was living with and caring for our 3 adolescent girls who go to school in La Ceiba (3 hours from the Finca proper).  The girls will be graduating this November and are very much in need of someone’s guidance and support; so, after much discernment Allison our kindergarten teacher chose to move to La Ceiba for the rest of the her time in Honduras.  That’s how I became a kindergarten teacher.

While I could look at all of this as an undue burden or an insurmountable challenge, I have to be thankful for Allison’s generous response to God’s call.  I’m thankful for the kindergarteners' excitement when they found out that Profe. Kevin would be their teacher and for their daily hugs.  I’m reassured by my own patron saint of Kindergarten teachers, my aunt Mone, who I know is looking down and smiling. 

There’s a song that I heard during our communion service today that I remember being quite striking the first time that I heard it.  It’s called “Tu Pones Lo Demas” which would translate to “You Put in the Rest.”  The song talks about the boy with the loaves and fishes, the host of the wedding feast in Cana, and the Apostles as they fished without success, and God took the little, simple things that they had to offer and transformed them into miraculous signs of God’s generosity and love for us.  The refrain says: 

It’s so little, Lord, what I have to bring, It’s so little what I can give.  My work is the water that I want to offer, and my effort a piece of bread.  In Your divine hands I put it, and You, Lord, put in the rest. 

My time here is growing shorter.  My energy seems less and less, but what little I have I can offer.  I can trust that God will work through me and my community members so that His will might be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.  

Today was another testament to this fact.  We left for Mass in Trujillo this morning at the normal time as we do every Sunday.  When we arrived, there was a big parade going on because today is Honduran Flag Day.  We still made it to the church on time and sat waiting for Mass to begin.  Eventually, a woman of the parish got up and announced that Mass was canceled for the morning because of all of the noise from the marching bands.  This left us wondering what we should do.  Wait around with all the kids for 2 hours for another Mass? Go at night (potentially more dangerous)? Go back to the Finca and have a communion service?  The decision was especially difficult considering that none of the Franciscan sisters nor the director of the Finca are here right now.  

Finally, we settled on going back to the Finca and having communion service.  On the spot I agreed to lead it.  Of course, this meant that there was no time to prepare a reflection on the readings like I would normally do.  We quickly chose lectors and a Eucharistic minister and several of the tias put together the songs that we would sing.  I reminded everyone that we would need the help of the whole community to reflect on the readings.  When it came time for the reflection, several people shared, and it all turned out great.  As we walked back to the house, Ashley asked me, “Did you ever think you’d lead a Sunday service in Spanish?” The answer, “No, not really.”  God put in the rest.       

More Tadpoles

PS: Another funny story about tadpoles.  Recently, Dania, the director of our school, made a public service announcement that we should all remember to pour water in the toilet when we have gone #2, and it won’t flush.  She asked the students hypothetically, “Now if you were at home, you wouldn’t just leave that there in the toilet now would you?  What would you do?”  While most of the kids mumbled quietly in agreement and defeat that they would pour water on it, Joel announced the entire primary school, God, and whoever else was within earshot “I only pee at school! I never poop here!” Thanks, Joel. 

Now you’re probably thinking—Kevin, this has nothing to do with tadpoles.  You caught me; the first part of the story doesn’t have a thing to do with tadpoles, but what happens next does.  My special friend, Darwin, a kind of child version of St. Francis, raised his hand and explained to Dania that he didn’t want to pour water from the pila (a kind of concrete reservoir of water) because someone would hurt the “animalitos.”  His concern showed in his face and gestures. Having no clue what he was talking about, Dania assured him repeatedly that not “animalitos” would be harmed.  Dirty water won’t hurt the fish in the sea, Darwin.   Darwin’s preoccupation could not be assuaged…that’s not what he was talking about.  It seems that there are animalitos in the pila, and Darwin just wanted to make sure that the young tadpoles had a chance to survive.  Mary Clare, take a lesson from Darwin (and not the Natural Selection guy—the little boy from the Finca del Niño).

Psalm 103

God surrounds you with love and compassion…God’s love towers over the faithful.

Tomás is very small, miniscule even, and very delicate.  He is helpless.  He cannot move around on his own.  He’s totally dependent.  I have been charged with his care.  Tomás is a gecko (really a gecko egg at this point), but he has a lot of potential and a name.

How did I come to be the adoptive caregiver of this young reptile?  Well, my special friend Darwin, a real lover of animals, found him in the corner of the chapel near the feet of the Mary statue.  During rosary on Tuesday night, Darwin gifted him to me.  I found myself cradling a tiny gecko egg in one hand while trying to count my Hail Marys with the other.

So Darwin and I traded off holding Tomás during rosary.  Once it was over and all the kids had trickled back home, I was left with Tomás in my hand—just sitting there silently.

Darwin had told me how to take care of him, “Wrap him up in some cloth and put some sand over him to keep him warm.  You are to show him to your students, too.”

Yes, he was in my care now.  I watched him with great concern, and I closed my hand gently around him, and there was the world in the hand of God.  There was God gently, carefully, lovingly enveloping the world in the warmth of His love and the pressure of His touch…but not too much.  Too much and we would be crushed, splattered yolks with no chance for life or love.  To much and we would never meet our full potential, live the life we are called to live.  And there was Tomás happy and free, guarded and loved—just enough not too much.

And happy feast of St. Francis of Assisi!

Farewell Tadpoles

Coming back the Finca after a truly relaxing and refreshing vacation has been really great.  I feel that I’ve really been able to get back into the grit and grime of Finca days with fresh eyes and new energy; nonetheless, there was one rather grave surprise upon my return. 

Before I continue, I must say that I am forever and eternally indebted to Mary Clare for covering my classes for the entirety of my vacation and for being an all-around great gal.  I especially want to thank Bobby and her for extending their Finca adventure for an extra two weeks.  I guess they just couldn’t get enough!

Well, enough beating around the bush.   I was welcomed back the Finca with a note from Mary Clare on the computer summarizing the work that she had done in my absence, where they had left off, how the kids behaved, etc.  Among a few lines apologizing for missing gluesticks, tape, and that little man that goes with the car that we used for physics experiments (whom Fernando had last seen), Mary Clare dropped the following ominous message: “Now I must address a loss much more serious in nature that I had hoped I would never have to discuss with you. Further elaboration on this topic is in another document in my folder entitled ‘IOU’.”

My immediate reaction—oh no! Something worse than losing that little toy man!  He’s just so perfect for demonstrating inertia!...wait, maybe someone was critically injured during the egg drop experiment…or maybe she let one of the kids borrow my pen with the four colors (It’s black, blue, red, and green for crying out loud!).  Ok, so I settled down and mustered up the courage to open the fated document.  To my surprise this is what I read:

IOU some tadpoles.

My deepest apologies for not taking better care of those little creatures…As soon as you asked me to feed them everyday I thought I heard their little voices crying out, “Please don’t leave us to our doom Kevin! She looks worse than Darla from Finding Nemo.” In not telling you about those whispers I heard that day I ensured their demise and secured my own place in history as the girl with a higher aquatic death count than that terrifying dentist’s daughter [sic.]. Please accept my apologies and know that I will forever try to atone for this mistake! 

Below is the gravestone I designed for them should you feel like using it.

Tomb of the Unknown Tadpoles June 26, 2012- July 15, 2012 Beloved sons, daughters, friends, and compañeros de clase “One fish, two fish, red fish, dead fish.” -Dr. Seuss

P.S. If there happen to be tadpoles in your aula it was because they resurrected, not because I told Fernando, David, and Denis to find some more. 

Don’t worry, Mary Clare, I forgive you.

4 Tunes I Never Thought I'd hear in Church:

1.              Jingle Bells (a song about going to Bethlehem to greet the newborn Jesus on Christmas).

2.              The Sounds of Silence (#75 in the hymnal, a version of the Our Father sung to this popular tune. Do you think Simon and Garfunkel know?).

3.              Blowin' in the Wind (I don't really know what the words to this one are which makes it even more tempting to sing along like Dylan).

4.              The Little Drummer Boy (although technically a Christmas song, its scriptural inaccuracy and annoying “parumpapumpum” should never be heard in any decent Christian place of worship).

Needy Missionaries

Today's readings call us all to reflect on what it means to be a missionary.  Here's one person's take on it:  http://www.catholicsoncall.org/needy-missionaries

Also, if you are interested in sporting a cool, new Finca T-shirt, check out this link: http://teespring.com/lafinca
They make great gifts and all the profits support the mission of the Farm of the Child.

This Was not in my Job Description

This was not in my job description:

Life at the Finca comes with many surprises including things I never expected to do.  Here are a few of them:

1.              Trash man- Within my first few weeks here, Jacob invited David and me to help with trash collection on the Farm.  We drove around filling the bed of the Nissan Tundra with barrels upon  barrels of trash (including one full of Ruben's stinky diapers).  We dumped it all in the “crematorio”, a nearby dump where the trash is burned.

**As an added bonus, we finished this adventure by filling the bed we just emptied with...you guessed it...cow manure!

2.              Fumigator- We seem to have a bit of a shortage of men on the Finca leaving the 3 of us male missionaries and 1 house dad doing a lot of the “manly jobs” that would be culturally unacceptable or rare for a woman to do.  With Jacob and David gone for a few days, the job of fumigating the Finca for mosquitoes landed on house dads Edgar and Roni (who has since left) and me.  While everyone else was sent to the safety of the beach, Roni and I suited up like ghostbusters with a skin disorder covering every inch of our bodies with long pants, long sleeve shirts, goggles, mask, hat, gloves, and a bandana.  With our gaseous poison spewing from our petroleum-powered backpacks, we trudged around the Finca mostly deaf and blind due to our protective gear to eliminate our 6-legged foes.  I wish I could say I hadn't been bitten by any mosquitoes since then, but this unfortunately is not the case.

3.              Poopy paper burner- Just as it sounds.  Everyday someone from our house has to burn the poopy paper.  About two times a month I get to spend warming myself in the glow of a blazing pile of used toilet paper and plastic wrappers (neither of which like to burn so much as smolder).

4.              Godfather- No, I am not running the family business and there are no canolis involved. Apparently, this job also comes from a lack of men; in this case, men who are in good standing with the Catholic Church and single (I still don't fully understand  why the latter is a requirement to be a Godfather here...but it is).  So back in November I became the Godfather of not 1, not 2, but 4 children. I’m also very excited to be Godfather to Jose Manuel (one of our very own Finca kids) who will be baptized at the end of July. For me and in this culture being a padrino is kind of a big deal, so I really hope I am up to it.

5.              Assistant to the Ambulance Driver- Again, shortage of Y chromosomes=me doing lots of weird jobs.  Our nurses, Deirdre and Ashley often have to make runs to the hospital with medical emergencies.  At night they need a man to go with them as a security precaution.  Don't be alarmed at this seemingly sexist statement.  Yes, women can take care of themselves, but in this country a woman who is seen with a man is much safer than a woman alone at night.  That's how it is here.  Anyway, sometimes we get women at our gate claiming that they are about to “dar a luz” (i.e., give birth).  I rode shotgun as we traveled to the hospital with one such woman. She did not give birth in our truck, but we joked that if she had she would have named the baby after me.   A few days later we found out that she still had named the baby, BUT was considering Kevin as a name!

6.              Fireman- One evening I was cooking dinner.  My cooking partner (who shall remain nameless to protect her identity) and I decided to fry up some guineos (they're like plaintains which are like bananas).   We put the oil on our outdoor wood burning stove in order to heat it up.  A few minutes later I look out the window to see a towering inferno, a monstrous fireball shooting out of the spot where our pan had once been.  Without much time to think of a better solution, I grabbed a bag of corn flour from the table and ran outside.  I dumped the bag on the flames which extinguished the fire only to blaze back up after 2 seconds.  As I was about ready to watch burn down the place, my cooking partner reminded me that we have a fire extinguisher in the house.  Who would have thought?  Someone ran and grabbed it.  Of course, you must remember that we live on the property of a home for children, so needless to say, by this point a small crowd of 11 year old boys had gathered to see what was going on.  After telling the small crowd to stand back, I fired away with the extinguisher.  It really took a lot to finally get the fire out such that we could remove the pan.  The chicken (which was also on the stove) was ruined by the soft, white snow of the extinguisher, but a valuable lesson was learned: Don't put a lid on your fry oil and be careful not to get it too close to flames.  Remember that you have a fire extinguisher.  Only youcan prevent kitchen grease fires!

Well, after several months of living here, I have come to discover the value of the "unofficial 5th pillar" of Finca life: Flexibility.  Sometimes I am asked to do things that may not seem to be my responsibility (especially when it's something stinky, vile, uncomfortable, hazardous, befuddling or all of the above). In the end it's really just all part of the job!