"Maria mírame, Maria mírame.
Si tu me miras, El también me mirara.
Madre mía mírame, de la mano llévame.
Muy cerca de El que ali me quiero quedar."
- "Maria Mírame"
Well, here it is: the long awaited blog from Perú. We have been so very busy here, from arriving late on Tuesday night to going to school via the bus to visiting classrooms and sisters to walking all over the city of Miraflores. So far, each day has been filled with aventuras. I have already had a novio (a boyfriend), have told people we were monjas (nuns) and have been called a madrecita (the common name for sisters). We have eaten everything from pollo (po-yo, chicken) to ceviche (fish with lemon sauce). We have had questions from our students from what is you favorite color to do you have a boyfriend to have you met any celebrities. While I cannot speak entirely for my three other peers, and truly mis hermanas (my sisters), I know each day has been so fruitful and blessed for each of us. In truth, I know we are all always experiencing something new. Even though we are traveling and visiting here together, at the end of the day we each have a funny story. So, I cannot really share their stories, as they are always better coming from the person herself, but I can tell you mine. Now keep in mind, for having been here on four days, a lot has happened. So, bear with me but enjoy the aventuras.
We started out Tuesday, each of us meeting from our respective homes at the Newark airport. Having traveled so much (I am so very blessed) and by myself, I know the ropes inside and outside. I am the type of person, when traveling in the airport, via airplane, who likes to zip through check in and security then relax at the terminal. Others often like to take their time at check in and security, but me, no. So, that is what we did. We met in the morning, flew through check in and right before security sad our good-byes. While I am not the oldest on this aventura, I have taken on the role of Madre simply because I am a worry wort and I know the other moms were as well. No worries, I told them. If anything bad happens, which it wont but if it does, it is my fault. Hugging my Dad good-bye was probably the hardest thing. My sisters had each headed to school separately and we even got the chance to drop Lizzie off at school. Sister Jean walked her in the door and then said good-bye to me as well. There were no tears with any of my family members, but with my Dad, the longer he held onto our hug, the more our eyes filled with tears. I wanted to tell him not to do this to me, to not make me at the very last minute, regret leaving the country for a month, to regret leaving him behind. I also wanted to tell him not to worry, that I will be okay; but truly there is no guarantee that nothing would happen to us in our travels alone. Leaving daddy was hard. It always is. Soon, we were through security and waiting in the terminal. We made our last phone calls and soon we were immersed in a Peruvian crash course on the plane. And that was just the start.
Among the conversations between us, the big question was: who is picking us up. I was so proud of my girls for succeeding in customs and baggage check. You would not believe the amount of people waiting at the airport for people landing. Nothing like in the States. We were searching and searching among the sea of people for a small ocean of BLUE. Nothing, nothing, nothing and then: MONJITAS! I yelled monjitas and ran to the sisters. All I heard in response was laughter and "that must be Becca." Right away, I felt, they probably knew me more than I knew myself at that moment. Immediately, hugs and kisses were given from all the sisters. We were ushered out of the waiting area and into cars. Right away, I decided that Sister Eileen drives a mean stick shift. The experience driving in Perú was almost like what I experienced in Jamaica. After I reached more than two hands, I stopped counting how many times we almost died. Not because of Sister driving, but because of the lack of order among the roads and lights. I was fascinated by everything; I could not stop staring out the window. At one point, I told Sisters Eileen and Angélica, about what we ate on the plane. In response, Sister Eileen said: Polo is what you wear, Pollo is what you eat. We were all laughing hysterically. Finally, we made it to the convent and our beds.
The next day, we had our first experience on the bus. Sister Regina told us: You know you are comfortable in a new country when you can take the bus. It was on this hour long bus ride from Miraflores to Callou that I met my first Peruvian novio (boyfriend). Of course, I barely speak Spanish, so I could not understand anything. Sister Regina encouraged the entire flirtation! I was dying inside, absolutely mortified. It seems that in every country I visit, I am the one, of all people, who gets hit on! In the end, he told Sister that when he comes to Inmaculado Corazón, he was going to bring me flores (flowers), a hat and a shirt with his name on. He then asked who he should ask for when he came and that was when sister told him to ask for the Madre (the Superior of the convent). He was mortified. And so, no more novio.
We finally made it to the school and convent, San Antonio, in Callou. We met the sisters, but not the students since it was Report Card day. They were so gracious and beautiful. We had a tour of the convent and the school. I fell in love right away. The sisters were already so good to us. We headed home and then had a free night. I was so tired, I was in bed before nine. The next day, we were on the bus again. Sister went with us just in case, but we were pretty secure. As soon as we got there, the students and the teachers gave us a welcome ceremony and presented with gifts. It was so precious and beautiful. We soon after met our students. While the other girls were in the younger grades, I was in high school and I loved every single moment of it. The olders senoritas speak English very well, but they were so interested in the culture. My job with them is to perfect their pronounciations and help them with grammar. I am in Heaven. They are practicing pronounciation by reciting poesia, mi favorita. They have taught me a little Spanish, but I am there for the English. I love it so much. They are so gracious, so sweet and so welcoming. It has me so excited to be a teacher.
We did the same thing on Friday, having lunch at the convent there and then heading home, only on Friday, school lets out early so we were home very early. We took adventage of the time and three of us walked to the market just to look. It is overwhelming how beautiful it is. A little slice of heaven in the middle of the city. We have perfected, almost, the bus riding, since we do it alone now. The first day alone, we missed the stop home, but that was okay since we just walked. But, now we are fine. No problema, si? We have a schedule down almost but still it changes every so often. I love the children, the people, the sisters, the culture. I love everything.
There are a few stories significant to only me here, because, while the sisters do not know of my discernment, it still exists and I have been taking every chance I can to be with the sisters. My first companion was Sister Marie who helped me with the Office through Mass and then allowed me to spend breakfast with her. We chatted and chatted and chatted. It is ironic how small this world is; she is from the next parish over at home. Yes, she grew up in Bensalem. We have often had, even in these first few days, many conversations about so much. She is such a dear with so much experience and so many stories.
On Thursday in Callou, I got to know Sister Liz very quickly and very closely. She is the novice directress here in Perú, but there are no novices. We had been searching the convent for somebody we she took me into the little Chapel. Immediately, my heart went crazy at the sight of Jesus in the Tabernacle. I told her how much I fell in love, as it was simply made of wood. She found the key and opened it for me, so that Jesus was staring right into my heart. My eyes filled with tears as I proclaimed, MUY BONITO. Sister took her hand and placed it over my heart saying, Jesus is always in your heart. Always. I was so touched by it, that I wrote her a little letter that night.
Today, I was so blessed to accompany Sister Lisa to Mass. We walked to the church down the street, Santa Cruz. While it was all in Spanish, just being there was enough for me. Since we have to travel from place to place in the morning, there is not enough time for me to go to Mass. My work then becomes my Mass, but I miss the blessing of the Eucharist. I was so grateful to Sister Lisa and truly, I felt so blessed to be able to share our Mass.
Last night, the sisters gave us a welcome ceremony. We had pizza and a few Peruvian desserts, but what was most important to me was the conversation and the laughter. The sisters sang my favorite Spanish Mary hymn, and so, I told them. They asked me where I learned it and I had to tell the truth: at the IHM chapter last year. Of course, the laughed at me. I think they are catching on to my secret. We laughed and conversed for almost two hours before we all decided to hit the hay. It was so beautiful. I love the simplicity of everything.
I am so sure there will be many many many more aventuras to come. I am looking so forward to sharing my journey with you all. Thanks for all the prayers, love and support. And please, if there is anything you want to know, just ask. Please pass the word that we are all safe and enjoying every moment! Dios te bendigo!
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