July 10, 2006

The frustration that consumes my very being overwhelms my every thought and even proceeds to enter into my encounters with people. It cannot be possible to be anymore discouraged, and irritable than I am now. I am lonely, confused, tired and exhausted. An array of emotions swarms within me; so much that I feel the craze physically wearing upon my body. What I desire now, I cannot decide, as my wishes collide in confliction. If only just for one day I was to just be.

I cry for doors on my walls instead of curtains, for even just a little bit of privacy. I just want to be alone, to not be touched, smothered or hugged. I desire, what is to me, a normal human contact, one that respects boundaries and is sadly somewhat distant. I crave the company of my family and closest friends. Nevertheless, a companion who speaks my mother tongue, really anybody would do. I desire to run far away, where no one can find me. I wish for no special treatment, to walk down the street without people staring. I dream of not being any different. I dream of solitude. I am lonely, but I want to be alone.

Everything within my body aches of confusion. Why is this anxiety just now rushing through my system? A little context will help you to understand. I am living with the Pastor’s family at the Church, I live, eat and breathe what is good, right, just and holy. I attend service one or two times each day (except for Friday). The Church is not only Nazarene but is also influenced by Latin Culture and is therefore, extremely conservative and legalistic. The affects of this continually religious lifestyle and a legalistic and conservative church system have drained me. Every service is preached in a different tongue than my own. Yes, I do speak some Spanish, but I am by no means fluent. The praises, songs, prayers and sermons are spoken so quickly that it is hard to catch little more than the general idea that is purveyed. You then wonder why God put me here. He placed me in a Church and this constant religious lifestyle, to do what… allow me to grow in my walk with him. Then why is it that I cannot seem to benefit from these spiritual disciplines, songs of praise, the prayers, nor even the sermons. Is this a cruel and unusual punishment? It is then that you wonder how I could feel this spiritually unfulfilled.

For me, each service is little more than times in which I must show up in a skirt, stand and clap and then sit. You must wonder why I cannot use this very time to sing songs of praise in my own tongue, read my bible during the sermon or pray in my thoughts. If only it were that easy. The Guatemalan culture asks for songs of praise to be belched from the stomach, leaving your ears and mind no room to block out their unison praise and focus on my own words and songs of adoration to God. I have at times managed to get some very prosperous Bible reading done during this time, but with the constant threat of the congregation wanting to see the text in English; it is hard to read from where I last left off. I have however, managed to use the kneeling prayer altar as my place of prayer, this, the only spiritual discipline that I have managed to repeat without fail or obstacle.

Being religious is something that I will never strive to be. In fact, I struggle with what religion has done to spirituality. Religion has placed and trapped God in a box. Legalized what is good and bad, right and wrong in forms of worship, intimacy with God, and even lifestyle. It is so often that the Church completely misses the point of Christ’s words by burying what should be the lifestyle of a Christ follower in repetitious forms of worship. Rare is the Institution of the Church what Paul describes in Acts or even close to living the life that Jesus proclaimed. Who has the authority to declare what is and is not worship, to limit and categorize our spiritual life?

I am tired and exhausted. More than anything, my head hurts from a constant need to translate Spanish to English and English to Spanish. I am the only person who speaks English, at least within ten miles. I attend Church service and am required to follow along, as even I am asked trivial questions that assure an attentive audience, during the sermon. I have even been hassled about how I do not yet know all the words to enough worship songs to lead worship, alone. Not only does my head hurt from translating, but also it as if I cannot turn off the inquisitiveness that lies within every pending thought. Sometimes I just wish that I left well enough alone, and did not have this need to go deeper beyond the surface. I just wish I could somehow drown out my thoughts and let my brain just rest in tranquility.
What brought all of this horrid emotion to engulf my soul? I am at a Youth Camp, a weekend of non-stop Spanish church service, to top them all off. Except I am a twenty one year old, rooming with thirteen year olds, listening to purity ‘sex talks’ with young teens. I am not the only young adult here, but I feel like it. The culture’s mixture of the ages and stages of life is quite drastically different from back home. If I am asked one more time if I have any questions about sex or purity I might just break out screaming. If I have to sit and listen to one more worship song or sermon in Spanish, these people are not going to like what is going to come out of me. I am about to have a nervous breakdown, I have held all of this in for way too long. I need an outlet.

This is the epitome of it all. This is my wall, and I too will climb it, but only after I am allowed to retreat. My one weapon against the craze and rush of frustration is to retreat, which takes forms such as relaxation, sleep and a time to just be alone, silent and often meditating. My host family, God has truly blessed me; they encourage me to rest, relax and take time to myself. While they encourage me to do so, there is not much time for privacy to enter into solidarity between God and me. While the Church congregation has curiously probed as to why I am not always free to play, roam around or join in constant work. My host family, the Pastors, have taken to explaining to others, without my ever needing to explain to them, that the culture, food and lifestyle is one that I am not accustomed to and that I therefore need time alone to rest. However, at this ‘Campamento Juvenil’ or ‘Youth Camp’ I was left without my host family, in my greatest time of need. I knew then that my needing to flee the premises of the Camp, away from the blaring Spanish worship and presence of the youth, would truly offend many of them. It was either I stay, have an anxiety attack and show them a very unchristian side of me, or I retreat to the very touristy poolside hammocks. When I was found wandering back, I had to gently and quickly explain that the language barrier was hard for me to deal with. As soon as I explained, by the look on their faces, I was quickly forgiven and even encouraged.

As I reflect on the anxiety and emotions that once took me over, they allowed me to reflect on my view of the world, how our culture and socialization defines who we have become. Different cultural behaviors and expectations are perceived and regarded differently in each culture. I am placed into a lifestyle and culture where there are little to no boundaries and relationships take the utmost priority. As there is no privacy, everyone knows everything about everyone, little is held back, and there is little to be embarrassed about. In Machaquila, this community shares their lives, experiences, struggles and their triumphs together. When a neighbor prepares a special meal or pastel, a good amount is without question brought to the neighbor to share in the joy and celebration. When a neighbor has marital problems and is left with no bed to rest, without question, he is given a home with the neighbors until all is resolved. When one needs prayer, he is prayed over. When one needs food, he is given food and so much more. This community lives in what might be a pure and simplistic solidarity. The love and community of Christ manifests itself within their unity. In a place where there is little privacy and little to hide.

I now realize that for so long I have hesitated from living in true community. Whether it is how I was socialized or life experiences that have cause me to withdrawal from truly sharing my life with others, I have hardened my heart. However, it is a life in true community that reflects the unity in which Christ calls us. The light shed on this matter here in Guatemala has left me with a new concept of how a lifestyle of unity is simple. We build walls around our houses to keep others out, and doors on our bedroom and bathroom walls. We build walls around our lives, our minds and even our hearts. When we let someone in that only hurts us, we automatically retreat and harden our hearts to others as a form of defense. As a result, we have hardened ourselves to the joys of life found in simple and authentic relationship.

It is my admiration and my belief that infusion will allow me the opportunity to adapt to this culture. At times it is hard and others refreshing. There have been times that I have taken to feeling sorry for my situation. It is only then that I am awakened to the truth. I asked to be here and I still want to be here. I continue to believe that it is where God wants me, to learn and serve. There is so much that he still has to teach me from this people and this place. This is my journey and I will cling to the healing power of Jesus to refresh my soul and awaken a new life of true and right relationship with friends and family. While at times I am forced to retreat, I cling to times of meditation to refresh and energize my will to proceed. I look forward to the day, when I am strong enough to apply all I have learned at home, a very different society.