Sunday, August 26, 2012
In Which I Lose my Wallet
I wanted the title of this post to be "In which I lose a wallet, my voice, and my sanity but rediscover friendship, music, and hope"... but that would've been much too long and even I would have been bored of reading by that point. But I shall explain each of these anyway, and if you get bored, feel free to never read this again.
In truth, the story of the wallet is quite uninteresting, and is the least important. I was at the office of the Arbol de Vida Community on Monday night, dropped it on the ground, and now it is gone. The importance of this event is that in my wallet was $200 (rationing 50 per month, it was supposed to support me for the next 4 months), and my driver's license. Also, this was the first day of my first full week in Costa Rica, and after this event I jumped to the rational conclusion that this entire year was going to be just awful. But let us depart from this incident.
My Voice: For all intensive purposes, I am mute and deaf. I speak little, understand precious little more, and am mostly completely lost whenever we have a meeting. I'm sure I pose an interesting picture: bewildered eyes beneath a furrowed brow in a generally spaced-out expression. What I have come to see, is the beauty of silence. Unless you become like a little child echoes in my soul much more frequently now. And it is true. Because I do not have much of an ability to speak or hear, there is much more silence around me. And in this silence, Christ is re-teaching me many things: not only how to speak to others and hear what they are saying, but how to pray to Him, how to listen to His voice. Also, the whole country of Costa Rica is probably benefiting from the fact that the voice of Catherine is much less heard.
My Sanity:there is not much to be said on this point. I have not truly lost my sanity, in fact I am probably more sane now than I was before I left. Who in their right mind goes on a Gap year anyway?
Friendship, Music, and Hope. There is much to be said here, but I shall not say it all. What I have rediscovered is that words are not necessary for friendship. If people can be so close with their pets, how much more so can we share with others? Language does create a barrier, but it is more of a picket fence at times than a full-blown wall. And music: that universal language. It makes more sense now why Paul and Silas sang songs of joy while they were in chains. Music is the voice that cries out to go beyond yourself and your situation. I have felt no closer to people here than when there was a piano, two guitars, a set of bongos, and several voices rising up together in harmony. We did not speak, because who needs words when there is song? No translation is needed when each note tells it's own story. And hope: esperanza, the song of my own heart. 'Esperar' means to wait, and it is used often, so daily I am being surrounded by hope. What joy there is in that.
"Wait for the Lord. Be strong, take heart, and wait for the Lord" -Psalm 27:14