A Day in La Carpio

Hi there, sorry we haven't written in so long. After illness, moving house and entertaining visitors from the States, we're finally getting back in the writing saddle! Thought I'd write some detailed images/reflections of what it's like to work in La Carpio, where I teach math to teenage girls on Mondays and help run a girl's club on Saturday afternoons...

Driving across a land bridge to an outcropping of earth in the middle of a rock quarry/garbage dump, you notice piles of garbage on the sides of the road and charred spots in the grass. You realize what these are for when you see people jump on the garbage truck right in front of you (smells terrible!) and start pulling out bags to scavenge. Some of these people are kids. I once saw a kid of no more than 12 do a stunt that involved jumping on the moving truck, climbing up the back and walking across the top of the truck, all while the truck continued moving. They pull bags open on the side of the road and look for useful items or (among other things) metals that they can extract by burning. They can sell copper, aluminum, etc. for pennies per pound.

Gangbangers stand at each bus stop and stare at you with hard faces as you pass by. They don't threaten you, but rather stare through you. It's hard to tell what they're thinking and if they would want to harm you. There are 5 gangs in La Carpio, one for each bus stop. The bus stop you live closest to is by default your gang.

Everything seems broken in La Carpio. Ramshackle houses look like they are sliding downhill into the ravines on both sides of the encampment. Walls made out of corrugated tin sheets, bars everywhere (but this part is normal for Costa Rica), foam mats to sleep on inside houses. Mud walkways are the only way to get to many of the houses. If there IS a road, it's full of potholes. You don't see policemen or taxis. The small of garbage permeates everything and the lack of greenery to hold down the dirt makes it fly up and stick on your body. "Palsy dog" welcomes me as I enter the CFCI gate. Goats eat out of the trash dumpster outside. The bathrooms may be out of order, the water may be off, the internet for the computer lab may be down, your cell phone may not get reception, the ladder may be broken, your things may be stolen if you're not careful about locking them up, the whiteboard markers may be missing -- no telling what kinds of obstacles may fill your day today, but they certainly have a mysterious way of multiplying in La Carpio. Sometimes each day seems like a battle just to do the simplest things that we would take for granted in the plentiful U.S.

You work with kids that are so different from you in some ways that you may as well be from different planets. This is a place where kids are not like the ones you know: eight-year-olds who don't know their own birthdays, 10-year-olds who still can't spell their names, girls who have babies themselves, sisters who take care of their siblings and keep the house clean for their moms, brothers dead or in jail, young men with no motivation to do anything because they have no hope for a better life. Ages of students don't match up to grade levels due to multiple dropouts for jobs, babies, sibling care, illness, etc. Abuse of all kinds is normative. Girls are taught that they exist to take care of kids, clean, cook, and satisfy men. Boys are quickly ground down by the lack of opportunity, and fall prey to a mass learned helplessness, believing "it doesn't matter what I do, so I may as well _________."

Here are some of your students:

While other students doodle boyfriends' names in their notebooks, Nazareth doodles "Jeremy" with a heart around the name. Jeremy is her 3-month old son. Sometimes I get to hold him during class so that Nazareth can work. Tania and Surjen, other children of students, also hang out and occasionally demand the attention of their mothers or others. I won't forget the first time that Karen started breastfeeding her baby in the front row of my class without covering herself, though now I'm used to it!

Kassandra has to leave now at lunchtime to care for her 3 younger siblings in the afternoon. She misses study time and the valuable opportunity to have a hot lunch (which we provide every day for our students), when most of the kids in Carpio get only one meal per day. Her head is always down like she's waiting for me to yell at her.

Dayana has trouble concentrating because she is hungry in the mornings from not eating breakfast. I've taken to bringing birthday snacks and food prizes to have an excuse to give them something to eat during class.

Marjorie has recurrent headaches that make her miserable and send her home from class every now and then. I think she suffers from migraines, but doesn't have access to medication. She also frequently sleeps during breaks, leading me to believe she doesn't get much rest at home.

Ana Cecilia had to drop out of my class because she found a job in a hotel to help support her 4-year-old daughter Tania. She is 21 and was in my 7th grade math class.

Jareth stares off into space during break times and cites "problems at home" as the reason she looks so sad so often. I hope one day she'll confide in me what those problems are.

These are just a few of the girls I work with and a sampling of the problems they have. I love each of them, and I'm amazed at how they all do 2 things at the same time: (1) mess around, laugh, sing, dance, giggle, and have fun like the kids they should be, and so desperately want to be, and (2) be hard, grown up beyond their years, and pessimistic in their outlook.

I know that many of you have been wanting some specifics about what our life/work is like here, so I thought that describing the smells, sights and people would be an interesting way to share part of it with you. Am I complaining about how hard it is to work in La Carpio? Not at all. Just trying to describe the facts of the matter. I love what I'm doing, and I know that God has me there to be an agent in the process of bringing earthly hope and eternal hope to the girls and young women in this community. I also know that I am learning as much as my students are! Perseverance, patience, contentment, generosity, and thankfulness are just a few of the lessons that they teach me every day.

Humbly, Andrea

Divine encouragement

This morning I went to visit the Abraham Project, an orphanage outside of San Jose that's run by a missionary couple I've been wanting to meet. Unfortunately, the couple had just left on furlough, but I sought out the foreman of the construction project they have going on because I heard they might be willing to donate some wood for the carpentry program in La Carpio.

I approached Orucu and introduced myself. I asked him if they had any leftover wood. He said no. He explained that most of the campus had been built using recycled wood from pallets. I began to think the entire trip had been a waste of time. Then he told me that they were going to give us some wood from what they had in order to be a blessing to us. I was encouraged, and he and I began to pull some pine and douglas fir scraps from an immense pile of wood, taking care to avoid the multitude of rusty nails.

Before becoming the construction foreman for the Abraham Project, Orucu had been a pastor in the South of Costa Rica. He began to question me about the youth I'm working with in La Carpio and what kind of challenges they face. I confided in him that oftentimes it's difficult work because the young men in La Carpio have little or no desire to work, and trying to motivate them and build character is a difficult, lonely endeavor.

Just as I finished talking, I saw a man walk out of their woodshop, about 50 feet away. He walked right up to me and without introducing himself, began to talk. He told me, "Everything you do in ministry for the glory of God is known. It is written down in heaven. The work you do is for the glory of God and it is known to Him."

I thanked him and we shook hands, and then he turned and walked back to the shed where he'd been working. I turned and looked at Orucu. He'd taken off his hat and was cradling it in his hands. He said, "This is from God." He smiled and blinked back tears. "This is from God. Years ago this man came and prophesied about what would come to be here at this location, what we see now, what he's working on."

I replied that I was in need of encouragement and marveled at how this man who didn't know me came and gave me what I needed. Orucu just smiled and praised God. Praise God that He knows us intimately, knows our very needs and wants to meet them in practical, unexpected ways.

Encouraged,
Seth

Pray, for peace

On a recent trip into La Carpio, I stopped at Rener's house to pick him up to take him with me to the workshop. He beckoned me inside and I could tell from the look on his face, something was wrong. I went inside to find his mother, Claudia, sprawled on the couch and his grandmother pacing nervously.

Claudia had a heart attack three days prior to my visit. Her heart had stopped. The paramedics revived her on the way to the hospital. After two days in ICU, she was discharged. She has no insurance and I guess they figured she was stable. Clearly, Rener, Claudia and grandma were hoping I could do something.

I pulled a chair next to the couch and placed my hand on her shoulder and we prayed together. I prayed for healing. I prayed for provision for the family. I prayed for peace and comfort. Rener and I left a little later and we continued onto the workshop in silence. Throughout the day, I thought of Claudia's situation, and also the lives of some loved ones near and far who are going through tough times. I began to feel angry and impotent, wishing there was something I could do practically, immediately and see some results. I didn't want prayer to be my first and only response in the face of a lot of suffering.

In his letter to the church in Philippi, Paul exhorted the saints to, "... not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

God has really been challenging me to turn to Him in prayer, with thanks, as my first option, rather than when I've exhausted all my futile efforts. So selfishly, I'm trying to pray, for peace, and to honor Him as the giver of all good.

Peace,
Seth

A Glimpse of the Puzzle

Isn't it a beautiful thing to see pieces of a puzzle fit together when you didn't even realize they were pieces to the same puzzle?

Recently, we have focused our teaching at The Refuge in La Carpio on preventing drug and alcohol addiction. These girls are at-risk of abuse, addictions, early pregnancy, you name it. I realized that some of the women at the addict home I visit for Bible study might be an encouragement to them. These women have powerful testimonies of what it is to make mistakes and lose everything, but to be found and loved by Jesus and learn that He is enough. The past 2 Saturdays of the program, I have taken my friends Maria-Eugenia and Clara to share their testimonies with the girls.

It was a special time for both groups. The first Saturday, Maria-Eugenia shared the pain and disappointment that her alcoholism and life on the street has caused her and her family. She poured out her broken heart after having fallen again into temptation after 9 years of sobriety. She wept as a mother would and pleaded with the girls not to destroy themselves and make their situation worse by abusing substances as an escape.

The second Saturday, Clara echoed many of Maria-Eugenia's exhortations. She shared her estrangement from her entire family even now after her battle with drugs. She warned the girls that it all begins with one little cigarette, one little drink at a party, a friend or boyfriend who pressures you to try something. Most importantly, both women testified to the power of God and the love of Christ in their lives, to their dependence on Him in every moment to see them through.

Our girls, about 30 each Saturday, ages 12-18, sat transfixed and taking to heart every word that they said. We were able to discuss some concerns that some of their girls have for their friends that are beginning to get into drugs. We shared and discussed several bible verses about how to resist temptation and the tools that God gives us to do so.

The beauty of seeing this unfold was witnessing the mutual blessing that they were to each other. The women were touched by the youth and potential of the girls, and by the knowledge that many of them would see or are already seeing many trials and pain due to substance abuse. Maria-Eugenia and Clara saw that they had something to offer in ministry because of their life experiences, not in spite of them, and that God could use even those painful memories to declare his glory to others and show them victory in Christ. The Holy Spirit used them in a way that He could not have used me because of where they've been, and He gave them words to minister to those hurting girls.

The girls were supportive of the recovering addicts and encouraging, one of them even giving Clara her craft for the day as a gift (if you knew how much these girls treasure their crafts, you would understand how special that is!). I know that they will not quickly forget the genuine love and compassion that was shown for them by these amazing women, and that they will remember the hope and forgiveness that Christ offers them even when they do fall and make mistakes.

It was awesome to see God put together people in 2 completely unrelated ministries in a way that was used for the mutual edification of each. His ways are mysterious and beyond understanding, but perfect in every way!

Thankful to be a part of it,
Andrea

Ever wonder what missionaries do on the field?

We come to tell people about Jesus and serve them in their areas of need, but sometimes we get to do other things to assure that we get to continue to do that. In case you've never experienced the bureaucracy of Central America, you will get a flavor for it if you can actually get through this whole post. We've tried to make it worthwhile by also making it entertaining.

Seth and I started the day out yesterday taking our applications for our religious worker resident visas to immigration. We had an optimistic outlook after months of document preparation, authentication, seals and translations, advice from a lawyer, and the whole sha-bang. We prayed while walking in that God would give us grace and favor with those with whom we would need it. It went like this:

• We arrive at immigration and ask where the bank is to complete step one of the process: pay our fees. The sheet we had printed off said $30 per person, so we showed up with $150 for all 5 of us. Ready, set go!
• We wait in line for 30 minutes, to be told by the teller that the amounts are variable and that we need to ask at information first to see what the right amount is, and then come back.
• We wait in line at information for another 30 minutes. We decide to divide and conquer. Seth tries another source of information while Andrea stays in line.
• Seth is patently rejected by the person who accepts the religious worker visa applications, who assumes that we can't possibly have all the documents we need (without looking at them) and refuses to give him any information. "We need to pay our application fees, but how much do we pay?" "Go away and come back when you've paid." "I know, but how much do we pay?" "Come back when you've paid." Gee, thanks for your help.
• Little ringlets of smoke begin to come out of Seth's ears. We now know why SHE is assigned to the religious worker desk: those of us who are filled with the spirit of Christ are the only ones who can engage with her without homicide being the result.
• Seth returns to find Andrea at the information desk, and the man who is trying to help her has disappeared. He looked at her blankly when she explained her question, and left to ask someone what the heck to tell her. The elderly ticos behind her ask if he's taking his coffee break.
• Info man returns to explain that the law just changed. $30 was the old amount. $250 is the new amount. Over 800% increase in the fee overnight? Sure, that makes sense. We leave knowing that we're not submitting our applications that day, because we don't have the money and have to submit another advance to CFCI for the rest of the money.
• We begin to suspect there are other things that have probably changed that would affect this process, so we do some searching on the internet. We learn that we now have to register for voluntary insurance with the socialized medicine system (La Caja) to apply for visas. We decide to try to accomplish SOMETHING today, so we try to figure out what we need for this, make copies of everything required according to their website, and head out again.
• We find the building that the Caja's web site directed us to for this and wait in line for an hour. We begin discussing the merits of ripping people's arms off and stuffing them down their throats as a way of getting things done in developing countries. Very Christ-like, huh?
• The man at the window that we explain our situation to has no idea what to do or tell us. He finds a superior, who explains to us that we have to go to another building 2 blocks away for this. We explain that we already have insurance and that we're hoping to get an exemption when we show them our insurance cards, past bills paid by them, etc. and assure them that we will not be a burden to their health care system. Their response: it is now obligatory to participate in the Caja regardless of your insurance status.
• The light bulb goes on: this is a new way for Costa Rica to make money off of foreigners and get us to help fund their medical system that is bankrupt. Maybe our money will help people get their medical care after a 4-month wait instead of after an 8-month-one.
• We find the next building and sit in chairs for 30 minutes until someone can help us. He tells us that we need to somehow prove our income and expenses so that he can calculate our premium based on our "extra" (net) money. We have a letter on hand from CFCI stating our income (which was not required, but we suspected it might come in handy). He is confounded that we do not receive our income in Costa Rica (we are paid in the U.S.) or pay taxes here, and has no idea what to do with us. He tells us to go home and bring him copies of our bills, something the web site said nothing about. It is clear we are the guinea pigs and he is making this up as he goes along.
• We go home and do this, and go back freaking out that most of our monthly expenses are in cash and we don't have "bills" to show him to account for what we spend each month, so it will appear that we have plenty of extra money to hand over to them.
• We go back and sit in chairs for another 30, listening to other Americans in front of us flip their lids when he tells them they owe $400 per month. We begin sweating profusely. The others leave without enrolling and promise to return with more bills showing a more accurate reflection of their expenses. Seth threatens under his breath to deliver a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick to the man's solar plexis if he tries that highway robbery with us.
• When it's our turn again, the man kindly explains that the bottom line is that the Caja wants 10% of our leftover income after our bills. As we hand him our "bills," which don't nearly reflect the total of our mandatory monthly expenses, we explain that we don't have EXTRA money. We get x amount per month, and we spend it all on necessities of life. Period. He is worn out after his conversation with the previous Americans and explains that the minimum amount he can calculate a premium off of is about $200. We say great. He tells us our premium is $15 per month.
• Andrea asks if there's a document outlining the coverage we will receive if we use the government health plan's services. He looks at her blankly and says, "You get health care, we pay for it." "There's no co-pay or deductible?" "No, we pay for it all." Gee, I wonder why they're bankrupt and people don't get care in a timely fashion.
• He cannot remove the pension aspect of our premium due to a computer glitch (without that the premium should have been $8 per month), even though we explain that we don't expect to still be living here when it's time for retirement. I guess Seth now gets a Costa Rican pension in about 25 years.
• All of this only enrolled Seth in the plan, since he is technically the wage earner in the family. We now have to go to the nearest health clinic to our home and register the rest of the family on his policy to get cards for all of us to show to immigration that we've fulfilled this requirement.
• We hit the clinic on the way home (it looks like Hannibal Lector's prison cell from the outside), and it's locked up tight. They've closed for the day by 4:30.
• We head home, and remember to thank God that we made progress today and did get the much-needed favor from the gentleman at the Caja at the end of the day who gave us the benefit of the doubt and took our word for it on our finances, a favorable low premium that does minimal damage to our monthly budget, and an opportunity to take our lives into our hands by getting treatment at the government health clinic free of charge. We can't wait to taste that government cheese!

Sooo, we started the day setting out to apply for residency, and ended it by participating in the socialized health care system. I guess you just never know, huh?

Maybe we'll actually get to leave our application files with immigration when we try again. Then again, maybe it will take 5 more trips to even begin the process...

We know that it's worth it, and despite the frustration we really did laugh at times,

Andrea

After the lull ... the big Mo.

After a slow start to the carpentry program, we've really got some momentum. Five young men showed up this week each day and participated in the program--we studied the first chapter of the gospel of John, worked our way through a couple of pages of a carpentry book, built some cabinets, did some painting and even studied a little English, too.

This week I really felt like we turned a corner relationally, too. Alex is almost 16 years-old and was assaulted by a group of boys last year. His mother told us that he quit going to school and rarely left the house due to fear of the same happening again. Somehow, he overcame these fears to show up the last two weeks and participate. Although very timid the first week, during Bible study Wednesday, he responded to a question about how God has blessed him by saying the carpentry program and our growing relationships have been a real blessing to him!

Two other exciting bits of news this week are that Gustavo, the director of New Horizons, the outreach that the carpentry program is a part of, found some money in the budget so we can buy some wood to begin creating some pilot products to sell in the neighborhood. This will be an initial effort to determine what we want to begin building and how it might sell in La Carpio.

In addition, Andrea and I have been invited to co-lead a couples' Bible study in La Carpio with Cesar and his wife, Carmen, two residents of La Carpio that are volunteers with Christ For the City and are involved in starting a church in the neighborhood. The second week that Cesar and Carmen and others gathered for Sunday morning Bible studies, nearly 150 people showed up. Clearly there is a real hunger for the Lord in this desperate place!

Please pray with us that we'd have wisdom and discernment to determine which additional ministry opportunities to become involved in as they present themselves as we try to be good stewards of our time and energy. Please also continue to pray for Alex, Rener, Harold, Mychall and Jonathan to continue to be consistent and respond to what the Lord is doing in their hearts through the carpentry program.

Peace,
Seth

Dedication, part 2

In my last post I'd optimistically estimated starting class with eight interested young men. The designated Tuesday for starting, one young man named Harold showed up. The next day, we had two more young, but eager-to-learn boys.

Over the last couple of weeks, we've done repair work around the property, salvaging wood from discarded pallets, and I've begun to build a relationship with some of these young men. After another week, a 17-year-old named, Micah showed up. He liked what we did and brought a friend with him the next day.

Last Friday we sat in the shade and talked for awhile and I shared my vision for the program with them. I also asked them what they hoped to learn and achieve. Later, one boy went out to the street and bought a couple bags of Tamarindo-flavored ice (about 10-cents a pop). We bit the tip off the bags and sucked the flavored water and hung out. It was good to be accepted on their turf.

Later that afternoon, I visited a wood-crafting factory and thanks to a conversation I struck up with a resident artist, I was shown into the office. I spoke with the owner's son about my vision for the program in La Carpio and told him I'd like to supply him with trained workers if he could put them to work. He was eager to see such young men and provide employment.

Please pray with me that God would bring more interested young men and that we'd come together and form the right team to launch this program at the right time!

Expectantly,
Seth