Rostro de Cristo in Ecuador

it's funny to realize, but i've had more time to think in the last three months than i did in four years of college. i constantly find my mind somewhere else, thinking about a myriad of things, mostly concerning my future: what am i going to do when next august roles around? will i go live back in the states? will i do another volunteer program? will i move to argentina? will i go home for six months then move abroad? will i go to grad school? will i move to l.a.? back to chicago? how would i pay to do any of this? these are all good questions i should be asking myself, but right now isn't the time. i need to be here, now, experiencing this, but that has proven to be hard. the last few weeks have been very hard as future plans or friends and family back in the states have consumed my mind, which in turns makes being present here, both mentally and physically, difficult. i thank god every day that i am here, i do, but there have been many days where i just wanted to get on a plane and leave. frustrations with spanish. frustrations with community living. frustrations with ecuadorian culture. it's easy to start to think being here is a mistake. but then it takes some outside perspective to clear the fog sometimes.

pat mcteague is that outside perspective for me. simply, she is my hero. pat mcteague came to ecuador in 1965 with a group of nuns and started working with shoe shine boys in quito. after five years of frustrating attempts at social work and constant lack of oxygen, pat moved to the coast, to guayaquil where she met a future life-long friend and business partner. the pair wanted to create a quality education for the poor of the region, with the hopes that one day a very class-oriented society would integrate and the poor and rich of the guayaquil region would go to school together. twenty-odd years later, their dream came true ... sort of. pat and sonya founded nuevo mundo, a school and foundation which serves the wealthy families of guayaquil in the morning, while serving the poor of guayaquil and duran in the afternoon. both receive the same quality education, which is one of the top programs in the nation. rostro is associated with nuevo mundo for several reasons, one of which is the retreat groups. we take retreat groups to see nuevo mundo's ridiculous campus at the end of their trip to show them the hope and opportunities that exist for kids in duran, and at the end of the tour, pat talks with the group. this is one of my favorite stops with groups because even though she conveys the same message every time, with 24 groups a year, she still has a passion and sincerity that excites me every time i hear her speak. she is one of the reasons i am here. she has this way of conveying my responsibility to be here. i'm a white male from the united states. i have a college education. a passport. in essence i have access to anything i want in the world. how many other people can say that? maybe two percent of the world. so if i'm part of the two percent with all of these privileges, what does that mean? do i have a responsibility to help the rest of the world that lives in inhumane conditions, facing the worst of atrocities. what do i do? can i lead a guilt free life and do nothing? i say this because of this: anytime i feel like being here is a mistake, i should talk with pat. she makes me feel like i truly have a reason for being here. like i should be living an extrodinary life. listening to her talk makes me excited about all of this. that this is my responsibility.

and what better way to be present then celebrate? last night we went across the street to abrahan's (ab-BRAN) house for his 30th birthday party. abrahan, who is one of the guards at our house, is one of those guys who always has a smile on his face, always joking and eternally thinks he's a college frat boy. his party was no different. lots of dancing, lots of music (the loudest speakers in the city), lots of food, lots of fun. i left his house around 1:30 am and rejoined the party as it was still going at 8:30 this morning, (if that gives you any indication as to how parties go down here.) at one point in the night, after abrahan had yelled at me to come back over to the party, we played this little game where abrahan would pick someone from the party, tell them to choose a balloon which had a piece of paper in it, pop it, then abrahan would read the piece of paper and the person would have to act out whatever he said. my balloon, which abrahan loved since he always jokes with the male volunteers about being ¨sopa¨(gay) was to shout at the top of my lungs ¨quiero un hombre que haga me feliz¨three times (i want a man to make me happy). it was hilarious how something so small made abrahan crack up so much. this is why i need to be present. to remember this. to experience this.