December 18, 2008

I did not get on the plane this morning. Would I? Would I not? In the back of my mind I had not been completely certain. When I bought my ticket way back in July, I was told that legally, I must buy a round-trip ticket (two actually, one for Krystal, also). Otherwise, we would not be allowed to board the plane from Arizona to Ecuador. So the ticket agent got out his calendar and counted out 90 days—December 18th –and made the round trip tickets for that date. If one calls it “faith”—mine was strong enough that I would respond to others, “but I won’t be using the return ticket. I don’t believe I’ll ever be coming back.”

But I didn’t KNOW that. And then, over the last several weeks especially, in the back of my mind was the lingering question (that sometimes even came to the forefront): would I really find a way to stay in Ecuador? How would the VISA situation play itself out?

So many possibilities, but none of them slick and easy as originally assured to me. When it finally came down to it, just a few days before my 90 days of permission to be in Ecuador was to expire, I was driven, along with two attorneys, by my dear new friend and brother, Luis, down to Police Immigration to acquire an extension. They were all filled with confidence that this was an easy, routine, requisition. After some round-about business, they were informed (“they” because “they” spoke the language) that I would NOT be permitted an extension because only those from countries that embraced the “Andean Pact” were allowed long-term residency here if not legally citizens. The reality of it was, I was told quietly, was that the new President did NOT like Americans.

Okay, so now what? If my heart were only, somehow, allowed permission to speak to the President’s heart and let him know what I would really like to help HIM DO for his Ecuadorian people! That there is AT THIS MOMENT a plan in place to care for EVERY ONE under his jurisdiction. As I pondered, I realized that this land was more “home” for me than anywhere else on this earth right now. If I went back “home” to Arizona (or any part of The United States, for that matter—and I did have two invitations), what would I do? How would I financially “make it?” Okay, so I would get to hug and be with “my” children probably one or two days for a few possibly wonderful hours. Then what?

Here, in Ecuador, was where my heart would be. Here, somehow, was my work to do, my joy to find, my life to lose. I realized that if I was put in jail, that, oh well, that just might be the way to open up my voice and heart to ears that were open and prepared to hear about the Worldwide United Foundation. Perhaps that would be how I could (at least initially) help the most. I knew that my dear friends, Luis and Marcella (and Beth eventually) would care for Krystal. All would be well.

So, here it is, D Day. I did not get on the plane. Instead, I was taken by Luis and Marcella to Mega Maxi, the store of all department stores in Quito. I thought I would buy some candy canes and white chocolate to make my “signature” Christmas delicacy. However, in the store that had everything any Quitoian could want, there were NO (as in not one) candy canes to be found. Candy canes? Oh, yes, they had heard of them, but no. They didn’t eat candy canes here. Also, there were no bars or chunks of white chocolate.

Hmm, well, maybe I’ll buy a small Christmas tree for our little apartment. There were a few decorations (looking back, it wasn’t even Christmas music being pumped into the air), and there was a very small plastic wall-hanging tree (for $9.98) that I thought about purchasing then decided against it, Krystal’s school art project tree could do just nicely. As I passed the two or three types of Christmas stockings offered for sale (I had previously bought Krystal and I “mittens”—they’re small and require less to “fill”), I inquired of Luis and Marcela if they had any traditions that were special to their family. No, Ecuadorians did not fill stockings, Santa Claus did not come down any chimney (although they had read about that in American stories), but they did have a dinner the evening before and then opened up a couple presents that “Papa Noel” had left.

Interestingly, Luis then told me how he “hated” the holiday. For him, he was sickened at witnessing the commercialism (wow, if he could only see how that word looked in another “America”!) and the vast discrepancy between those who “had” and the many more that “had not.”

As I thought about “my” eight beautiful children, thousands of miles away from me…no holiday traditions being celebrated together, no Christmas stockings to fill, no Christmas Eve pajamas to open around the tree, no tree even—not even a small one propped up on a table, no caroling, no candy making and delivering, no hugs, music and hushed secrets…unbidden tears cascaded down my face. I could not stop them.

Oh, the sham of it all! I had tried for several years to participate on MY terms with the holiday. No stress, little money and hustle, many hugs and fun memories. A focus on the true gift; real peaceful love for ALL, a mere amplification of my life throughout the year.

Now, however, I would be unable to even do that, at least with “them”. Would “my” children really know how much I loved them and wanted their happiness more than my own? Would they know that their “REAL” Joy would bring me joy untold? Would they realize that I felt the same for every other child (no matter the age) , and could not stop until my life’s fire was spent in doing whatever miniscule act I could that my heart propelled me towards, knowing that in this way, their lives would be more greatly blessed in the long run, too?

Quiet sobs came unrestrained, but only for a few moments. Shaking myself, I knew that all truly was well and would work together for good. Christmas tree or no Christmas tree. White chocolate goodies or no white chocolate goodies. Children or no children. Presents and stockings and candy canes or not. Many children (if not most) in Ecuador and most other parts of the world would not even enjoy a warm bed for “sweet visions” of anything, much less a warm meal and a hug.

Yes, it's "Christmas" and yes I have seen several decorations, but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO it is not anywhere near the chaos and materialism that is taking place elsewhere. I am thousands of miles away from "my" children and who-knows-how-far from helping these other children of “mine” here. But, somehow I know that I am helping in my own small way. There's nowhere else on earth that seems as much "home" to me, yet my heart is so full with the discrepancy of those who HAVE and those who know-not-that -they-do-not-have.

Whatever my future looks like, I am here. Now is my moment. Krystal will feel my love. “My” other eight living children will too, I hope, being firmly rooted together in our hearts.

Later this afternoon, Luis took me to pay for and pick up the promotional flyers announcing the English classes I will be starting to teach in the afternoons and evenings at his school. As he drove, he began sharing something from deep in his heart. Only understanding part of what he spoke, he promised to write it down and send it to me via email. He did. I include here what he wrote, followed by a translation.

My new friend coincidentally shared with me this experience of his from long ago on this very day of deep peace AND emotions. This was just another poignant witness that my life IS being guided, that, however ludicrous my decisions may appear to others, I am finding my way (and doing that, as Frank Sinatra sang, *“My Way”). Interesting that Diego Romero expressed very similar sentiments to these expressed by Luis a few weeks ago as we were shopping with his relatives in the Otavallo market: somehow, he knew he knew me from somewhere. As soon as he met me he “recognized” me and felt very connected and close. (And, though the reader may intuit an erroneous viewpoint, both of these men I consider dear “brothers” and, I believe, they would each declare that I am a dear “sister.”) People are being prepared. Though certainly not slick and easy, my feet are being led.

My life will NOT be in vain. Following the peaceful promptings in my heart, I will find my way. However that may look to others. (They see with their own eyes, anyway.)

Here’s what Luis shared today, entitled “Un Sueno” (a dream):

MY FRIEND.

Hace unos años, quizá unos 8 años yo tuve un hermozo sueño, cuando yo en ese entonces me encontraba solo y en una situación muy dificil, en la que tenía un contrato por 91 millones de sucres para realizar unos trabajos en una hacienda ubicada en Pintág; en ese entonces los bancos cerraron por un mal llamado "feriado Bancario" en la que el dinero quedó congelado, al no tener el dinero suficienteciente no había para contratar trabajadores me tocó trabajar solo y para ahorrar combustible de mi coche me quedaba a dormir en el y una noche muy cansado me había quedado profundamente dormido, en eso de la 1 de la mañana aproximadamente soñaba que había una mujer muy hermoza de cabellos rubios con un vestido bello de tez blanca me acariciaba mis cabellos y me hacía sentir una paz inmensa y al momento que senti que habrío la puerta de mi coche desperté y la vi que se alejó en ese instante yo baje de mi coche y dije es verdad o un simple sueño.

Cuándo por primera vez te conocí me sorprendí, pero pasó unos días y en mi mente pasaban muchas cosas y me pregunte dónde le conocí y al recordar el sueño traté de encontrarte péro por algunos días no aparecias hasta que un lindo día te ví pasar y te invite de nuevo a pasar a la escuelita. y hoy tengo la suerte de que estes aqui en pérsona. Crees tu que me pudo haber pasado? fué sueño o realidad.tus hojos son los mismos que ví.

siempre
LUIS

Here’s a translation:

MY FRIEND.

A few years ago, maybe about 8 years, I had a wonderful dream. During this time, I found myself alone and in a very difficult situation. I had a contract for 91 thousand sucres to complete some work on a ranch located in Pintág. However, the banks closed because of problems and so all the money was frozen. Since I did not have enough money sufficient to hire workers I was required to work by myself. I had to save fuel for my car so I was left to sleep in my car. One night, when I was very tired, I had fallen deeply asleep, and at around 1 am I dreamed about a very beautiful woman with light colored hair wearing a beautiful white, lacy dress. She caressed my hair and made me feel an immense peace. At that moment, I felt the door of my car opened and I awoke. I saw that she had left. At that instant I got out of my car and I questioned, is it true or just merely a dream?

When I met you for the first time, it surprised me, but a few days passed and in my mind I thought about a lot of things and I asked myself, where did I know her? And as I remembered the dream I tried to find you for a few days but you did not appear until on a wonderful day you saw me pass and I invited you again to go to the school. And today I have the luck that you are here in person. Can you believe what has happened? Was it a dream or reality? Your eyes are the same ones that I saw.

always
LOUIS

Pleasant dreams, or, as the Ecuadorian’s say: “Duerme con sus angeles!” (Sleep with the angels!)
Kimberly :-)

“My Way”
And now, the end is near;And so I face the final curtain.My friend, I’ll say it clear,I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain.I’ve lived a life that’s full.I’ve traveled each and ev’ry highway;And more, much more than this,I did it my way.Regrets, I’ve had a few;But then again, too few to mention.I did what I had to doAnd saw it through without exemption.I planned each charted course;Each careful step along the byway,But more, much more than this,I did it my way.Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knewWhen I bit off more than I could chew.But through it all, when there was doubt,I ate it up and spit it out.I faced it all and I stood tall;And did it my way.I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried.I’ve had my fill; my share of losing.And now, as tears subside,I find it all so amusing.To think I did all that;And may I say - not in a shy way,No, oh no not me,I did it my way.For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught.To say the things he truly feels;And not the words of one who kneels.The record shows I took the blows -And did it my way!