Sponsor Letter # 1

Dear Family and Friends,

I was taken off guard the other day when someone asked if I had started to write my sponsor letter, sig­ni­fying that I have now been in Peru for over a month. What’s even more mind­-​​boggling to con­sider is that it was barely this time last year that I first con­tacted Heart’s Home to learn more about the Mission of Com­passion. As I have said many times before, during my first visit this past March to the Heart’s Home in Brooklyn, I was imme­di­ately struck by the sin­cerity and warmness of all those I met. I returned to Brooklyn in June along with five other American volun­teers for two weeks of form­ation before we all departed for our respective mis­sions. For me, it was a comfort to meet other people my age who were sharing in this common exper­ience even though we were each from a dif­ferent part of the United States. This feeling has rever­berated ten­fold with every new encounter I have with the inter­na­tional Heart´s Home family here in Peru.

When I arrived here on September 18th, I was wel­comed at the airport by the members of my new com­munity charging toward me armed with hugs and kisses. All six of us then pro­ceeded to pile into one taxi and head for our home in Barrios Altos. At this point in time I imme­di­ately went into sensory overload, which I am just now starting to come out of. Lima is a bustling city, to say the least, full of crazy taxis and micro-​​­buses, street vendors boasting sizzling skewers of anti­cucho (trans­lation: mar­inated cow’s heart on a stick), fresh produce, flowers, and trinkets galore, and 8 million people roaming to and fro. As is the case in many large cities, even though Barrios Altos (our neigh­borhood) is a mere 15 blocks from the touristy and his­torical “Centro”, it is a world of its own. Once you cross over a large street, you are wel­comed by the sight and odor of dog drop­pings and trash heaps, but moreover you are wel­comed by a myriad of familiar faces waiting for you with open arms.

My new brothers and sisters have been my official tour guides and teachers for it all. As they have so gra­ciously intro­duced me to all of their friends, let me introduce them to you: Tim is 27 years old and a fellow Gringo (the col­lo­quial way to refer to an American). Ale­jandra, 21, and Cecelia, 24, are both from Argentina. Ben­jamin is Chilean and 24 years old. Our household Central American is Jessika, 23, from El Sal­vador. They have given the word “hos­pit­ality” a whole new meaning for me. Not only did they imme­di­ately share their food, bed­rooms, and bath­rooms with me, but they have been by my side every second of every day helping me do everything from nav­ig­ating the book of prayers to washing my laundry. However, I must admit that accepting their help has been a bit of a battle with my pride as I like to con­sider myself a fairly inde­pendent person. But perhaps that is exactly why I am here, away from my home, away from my country, and away from my lan­guage. I have been told many times that in order to share love and com­passion with other people, we must first allow ourselves to be loved and cared for. As simple as that sounds, it is a true struggle for me; it is an act of humility that I don´t think I have ever been fully open to. It is admitting that I am weak, that I don´t have all the answers, and that I des­per­ately need the presence not only of other people, but moreover the ever-​​faithful presence of the Holy Spirit. Here in Lima, I have no other option than to accept this reality. Somehow this acknow­ledgement of dependence is utterly liberating.

THE NITTY GRITTY

But Char­lotte, what exactly is it that you do every day? What does your house look like? What type of food do you eat? These are the ques­tions that many of you have asked and I pondered before arriving so I will do my best to fulfill all of our needs of mental images, but first let me begin with this dis­claimer: our mission is to try our best to be fully present to the reality of our neigh­borhood; to share in the joy and suf­fering of everyone around us. As we all know, reality is highly unpre­dictable so our daily schedule is more like a framework that we work within.

I’ll begin by describing the physical framework that I live in. Our house is com­fortably situated at a dead end of a street, adjacent to a market, making for less car traffic and more foot traffic. When you come through the front door, you find yourself on a patio with a room to your right where we welcome the children who come to our house. Con­tinue on into the house and you will stumble upon the kitchen and the chapel (every Heart´s Home has the grace of having a chapel with the Blessed Sac­rament). In the back of the house are two hallways, a bedroom and bathroom for the boys and the same for the girls. There is also a narrow stairway that leads to a room for vis­itors and the roof where we wash our clothes.

We all rotate daily being in charge of the house. If it is your day, that means that you will lead all prayer, go to the market prepare all the meals (chicken, potatoes, rice, and maybe a salad are pretty standard), and remain in the house in the afternoon to welcome the kids.
On an average day, we wake up at 7:00 for morning prayer, read for thirty minutes, and then eat breakfast. Depending on the day, we do dif­ferent things throughout the morning: Mondays we go to the market and the post office downtown, Tuesdays we clean the house, Fridays we help at a special needs home, and Sat­urdays we play with the kids whose parents sell flowers near the local cemetery. At some point in the morning we have an hour of Ador­ation (silent prayer and reflection) and we eat lunch at 1:00. If time permits, you might be able to sneak in a little siesta before we open our front door at 3:00 to pray the Rosary. After this, one person stays at the house to play with the kids while the rest of us go in pairs to visit our friends in the neigh­borhood. We then all reconvene at 6:00 for evening prayer and then go to Mass, fol­lowed by a bite to eat and then four nights a week people our age come over for a few hours to hang out. At 10:00 we gather once more in the chapel for night prayer and then slowly make our way to bed. Wed­nesday is our day of rest.

However, as I said, this is but a mere framework. These past few weeks have been a little dif­ferent due to a couple of things. First, Tim is leaving on Sunday after being here for nearly two years, thus there are countless people inviting us to their house to share a meal and final con­ver­sation. While it is hard to realize that Tim is leaving, these past few weeks have been a beau­tiful oppor­tunity for me to see the true friendship that exists between the people of Barrios Altos and El Punto (p.s. Heart’s Home in Spanish = Puntos Corazón). In the same way I described the hos­pit­ality of my imme­diate com­munity, the people of the neigh­borhood don us with an incredible amount of familial love as we are far away from our bio­lo­gical fam­ilies. Moreover, many of these people have been friends of our Punto since it opened 16 years ago and remember all of the mis­sion­aries who have come and gone. For me, this rela­tionship with Heart’s Home is a reflection of our rela­tionship with God; while people come and go in our lives, God’s love is never ceasing.

Secondly, there was an expos­ition of photos for two weeks in one of the main parks in Lima to cel­ebrate the 20th anniversary of Heart’s Home. There were large panels scattered throughout the park dis­playing photos from Heart’s Homes all around the world throughout the past 20 years. Everyday there were 3-​​5 people rep­res­enting Heart’s Home to offer more inform­ation to the passer-​​byers (in Lima there are four com­munities: my house in Barrios Altos, another in the Puente Piedra, a house of Heart´s Home nuns right out the city, and a solid group of ex-​​missionaries who live in Lima. Needless to say, I love being part of this vibrant com­munity and you will surely hear more about it in the future). For me it was not only a chance to put my Spanish-​​speaking skills to the test, but an oppor­tunity to reflect upon what exactly the mission of Heart’s Home is. At the end of one con­ver­sation, a man asked me why I talked to him while a steady flow of other people passed by. I simply responded that he was there in that moment and willing to con­verse with me, but it hit me how rare it is for a person to show a sincere interest in another. As over-​​simplistic as our mission of com­pas­sionate presence might sound, it is some­thing that we are all in des­perate need of.

Again, I can never thank all of you enough for all of your support. Without you, Heart’s Home would not exist and I surely wouldn’t be in Lima, Peru. The words of Mumford and Sons, a band my friends intro­duced me to this summer, con­stantly run through my head, “You are not alone in this. As brothers we will stand and hold your hand.” Thank you for holding my hand. Know that my com­munity prays for you daily. Please never hes­itate to contact me with spe­cific prayer requests.

¡Hasta pronto!
Peace and Love,
Charlotte 

Who is the most Gringa of them all??

ME!!! Literally, the other day I was visiting someone with my Argentinian sister Alejandra, and the woman told me that I was the most gringa person she has ever seen.



( 'Gringo' refers to a person from the United States, and sometimes is more generalized to refer to any person not from Latin America. 'Gringa' is the feminine form.)

Then two days later a little boy asked me why I had yellow hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes. His grandmother explained.

Yesterday I spent five minutes convincing someone that I had never dyed my hair.

I am a freak show more or less. I am happy I can provide Peru with a little entertainment.

So, in case you were perplexed by the title of this blog, I hope you now have a better understanding.

Get Naked

What? I have now been in Peru for 17 days? As surreal as it all seems, it is my reality. It has been a crazy two weeks...I think just now I am starting to settle into the rhythm of life and feel a little more like myself.

As I mentioned in my last post, everything around me in new and unfamiliar. So often do we hear about having a childlike spirit, but I don’t think I have ever really considered what that means. Last week, the Church took us on a quick journey through the book of Job, and I couldn’t get this tidbit out of my head:

Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there; the Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.       Job 1:20-21

Job had everything going for him, and in a split second, his earthly world came crashing down upon him. And what did he do?? He literally stripped himself and became totally vulnerable to Almighty God. I don’t know. It made me think about all the barriers I put up around myself...how I try to disguise my vulnerability. In the past two weeks, I have found that this is not an option. In order to survive I have to make myself totally vulnerable to not only God, but the people who surround me in my life. I mean, let’s just think about it for a second, when we all came from our mother’s womb, we were perfect innocent vessels. Everything we now know was taught to us, if we are lucky, by a loving  family. I pray that I never fool myself into thinking that I know everything. Each person around us has something new to teach us, and God has an infinite amount of new surprises to offer us if we only let Him.

So metaphorically speaking, GET NAKED. Stip yourself of all the false armor we put on trying to maintain our pride.

Now, for what you all have been waiting for....PICTURES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Family:  Jessika, Alejandra,Cecelia, Tim, Me, and Benjamin

My Home

If this tickled your interest, here are more pictures...Bienvenidas a Puntos Corazon Santa Rosa

Ok, so real quick, I will try and answer some common questions such as how is the weather, food, community, and what our schedule is like more or less.

Ok, in case I haven’t mentioned, I am in Lim,Peru in the neighborhood of Barrios Altos. It is about a 30 minute walk to downtown Lima. As are all big cities, more or less ‘El Centro’ (downtown) is super clean and touristy, then you cross over a huge street and are in our neighborhood, full of run of the mill folk, dirty dogs, and lots of dog poop and trash in the street....o and a plethora of food vendors whether it be something simmering in a potorfresh produce. As far as the weather goes (remember the seasons are opposite around here) it is pretty drab. Since spring just began, sometimes it is warm in the afternoon, but more or lessit is always overcast and literally and never rains...literally Lima doesn’t have a drain system...because o yeah, we are in a desert...making for lots of dust everywhere.

Food. More or less lunch is the main meal of the day and always really good. Pretty much it always involves rice, chicken, and something else-. Everybody tries their best to try and make peruvian food (we have a cookbook). I have yet to cook a meal becauseI am still in what they call a ‘free month’ meaning that I have yet to be assigned a day to be in charge of the house, and just follow people around, and can take a break when I feel like I am abou to go into overload. For breakfast we eat bread with jelly and butter and maybe drink some coffee or malt. For dinner it pretty much is the same, but sometimessomebologna, lettuce, and lunch leftovers are thrown into the mix. And o yeah, LK chamb, I have taken to drinking hot tea.

My new family is pretty rockin...everyone is really lively and quite the jokesters, so it makes for constant entertainment. They are always there to help me figure out something new or repeat the same word in Spanish 15 times until I pronounce correctly. Literally,without them, I would be a goner.

Every morning we wake up for morning prayer at 7:00, then read for 30 minutes (right now I devote that time to working on Spanish) and then we eat breakfast.Depending the day, different things happen in the morning... On tuesdays we clean, on saturdays we go to cemetery to play with the kids whose parents sell flowers, on Mondays we go to the House of Peace which is a home for children with disabilities run but the sisters ofMother Teresa’s order. Then we eat lunch, take a siesta if time permits, and then at 3 we open the front door for whoever wants to come and pray the Rosary. Normally a handful of kids will trickle in and then they really start coming because until 6 pm someone stays at the house to play with the kids while the rest of us go out and visit people in the neighborhood. Normally we go in pairs of two and each pair will visit anywhere from1-3 different homes. Our Home has been in the neighborhood for 16 years so there is a plethora of people we visit. At 6 we come back home, pray evening prayer and then usually go to Mass at 7pm at our parish (LaVirgen de Mercedes). Then after that, four night a week, young people come over and hang out. Benjamin can play just about whatever you ask him on the guitar so that often becomes the source of entertainment if not a game or a group conversation. Then at 10 pm we pray night prayer and then go to sleep. Wednesdays are our free days where we are free to do whatever we please, whether that be sleep, pray, frolick about the city, use the internet, go to the Sister’s house, or all of the above.

I love turning the corner onto our street because there are always people in the street ready to greet you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Ok thats all for now. Sorry for the long post. In the future, I’ll try and pick out one or two highlights but I thought the introduction was neccesary.

Hasta Luego!

Todo mi amor!

Southern Hospitality

Most of you reading this right now are more than familiar with the concept of 'Southern Hospitality'., so I won't go into extensive detail of what all this phrase entails. But I think we can all agree that Southern Hospitality is a unique gem that is to be treasured, and the deeper south you go, the richer the treasure.

If you really want to strike gold, go beyond the Mason Dixon, go beyond the Gulf of Mexico, leap across the equator, and immerse yourself in South America. Here you will find Southern Hospitality at its finest (Caroline Nabors, if you are reading this, know that I think of you often and how you discovered this treasure long before me).

The geniality of these beautiful people began in teh airport. Everything was find and dandy until i arrived in New York. I successfully claimed by bags to change airlines only to see the word 'cancelado' next to my flight. I jumped into line, soon to find out that my flight had been rescheduled for the following morning due to needed matience on the plane. So I joined my fellow delayed passengers on the 'complimentary' bus that took us to the Hampton Inn to rest for the night. I soon met Emily, a Chilean expatriate now living in Canada on her way to visit her family in Chile and celebrate her grandmother's 85th birthday. After exchanging our common frustration and a few laughs, she invited me to join her for the continental breakfast in the morning. Needless to say, in 12 hours I learned her life story and acquired a faithful friend.

The hospitality continued on the plane with impeccable customer service, and after I made it through customs, I was greeted by my new community charging toward me with hugs and kisses. They grabbed my bags, all six of us piled into a taxi, and I soon arrived at my new house. (I am still a little discombobulated...however you spell that word...but i promise i will try and post pictures soon).

Since then, barely five days have passed and needless to say, my brain has gone into overload, trying to soak in this new world around me and decipher the 4 different Spanish dialects around me (I live with Benjamin from Chile, Cecelia and Alejandra from Argentina, Jessika from El Salvador, and Tim from Boston, and of course there are the native Peruvians all around us).

I feel a bit like a puppy and a bit like a 4 year old. Literally everything around me is new and different. I don't know where anything is so I just follow my new family around. I don't understand how to prepare different types of drinks and food, so I have to ask, and I am about to embark on learning the art form of hand washing clothes. But all the while, my new brothers and sisters are eternally gracious, explaining all the little things to me, and constantly telling me to rest whenever I need to.

La gente del barrio...the people of the neighborhood...que linda!..how beautiful. My brothers and sisters formally introduce me to everyone who in turn greet me with some kind words and a kiss on a cheek. It is an impossible task to get out of a house without consuming some type of refreshment. The warmness and kindness of all the people around are constant pick me ups.

Ok, I feel as I am ending this abruptly but my time here in the 'cyber' is up and I am about to go to Mass. Hopefully in the next few weeks I will get a better feel of the rhythm of life here and be able to think a little more clearly!

Thank you for all of your love and prayers.

You are in mine.

Peace and Love

Lesson #1

As of late, I have found myself leaping far outside of my comfort zone. In response, I have become prone to large pits in the stomach and occasional pity parties, which unfortunately, many of you have had to witness from time to time.

Now let's break this down for a second. What has been the catalyst for most of these leaps? My commitment  to Heart's Home. When you get down to the bottom of it, what is the purpose of my commitment to Heart's Home? Learning what Love truly is.

The other day, I found my eyes transfixed on a Crucifix.

Lesson #1: Love is anything but comfortable.

In a nutshell

For graduation, Courtney and Jeremy gave me two books, The Prince and Gracias. While I like to think I know the ins and outs of the Heart's Home website, they discovered these two little gems that I had overlooked. According to them (I still am not too sure where they read this), these are both books that many Heart's Home missionaries hold close to their hearts.

 True fact #1: as soon as I settled into my room in Brooklyn this summer, I noted the copy of The Prince in French belonging to my temporary roommate.

True fact #2: Gracias addresses, almost to a scary level, my inner-monologue these past few months. The book is actually a journal kept by a priest, Henri Nouwen, who lived in South America for 1-2 years in the 1980s. More than anything, I appreciate his honesty in expressing not only his joy but his suffering as well.  I can't even give a decent estimate to how many things I have underlined and starred as he was able to eloquently express so many of my thoughts that come out of my mouth as word vomit.

One such example, is his explanation of what a missionary is. Why (both selfishly and ideologically) a person would choose to be a missionary and what they are truly supposed to do. I read this after completing my orientation. There is literally not a single phrase he says that I had not thought about (the first two paragraphs) or had been discussed during my orientation (the second half). 

So as a starter to try and share this experience with you, or maybe just a little insight into my brain...

"It is far from easy to be a missioner. One has to live in a different culture, speak a different language, and get used to a different climate, all at great distances from those patterns of life which fit most comfortable. It is not surprising that, for many missioners, life is full of tension, frustration, confusion, anxiety, alienation, and loneliness.

Why do people become missioners? Why do they leave what is familiar and known to live in a milieu that is unfamiliar and unknown? This question has no simple answer. A desire to serve Christ unconditionally, an urge to help the poor, an intellectual interest in another culture, the attraction of adventure, a need to break away from family, a critical insight into the predicament of one's own country, a search for self-affirmation -- all these and many other motives can be part of the making of a missioner. Long and arduous formation offers the opportunity for re-alignment and purification of these motives. A sincere desire to work in the service of Jesus Christ and his kingdom should become increasingly central in the mind and heart of a future missioner, although nobody can be expected to be totally altruistic. Not seldom do we come in touch with our hidden drives only after long and hard work in the field. Preparatory formation and training cannot do everything. The issue is not to have perfectly motivated missioners, but missioners who are willing to be purified again and again as they struggle to find their true vocation in life.

The two most damaging motives in the makeup of missioners seem to be guilt and the desire to save. Both form the extremes of a long continuum, both make life in the mission extremely painful. As long as I go to a poor country because I feel guilty about my wealth, whether financial or mental, I am in for a lot of trouble. The problem with guilt is that it is not taken away by work. Hard work for the poor may push my guilt underground for a while, but can never really take it away. Guilt has roots deeper than can be reached through acts of service. On the other hand, the desire to save people from sin, from poverty, or from exploitation can be just as harmful, because the harder one tries the more one is confronted with one's own limitations. Many hardworking men and women have seen the situation getting worse during their missionary career; and if they depended solely on the success of their work, they would quickly lose their sense of self-worth. Although a sense of guilt and a desire to save can be very destructive and depressive for missioners, I do not think that we are ever totally free from either. We feel guilty and we desire to bring about change. These experiences will always play a part in our daily life.

The great challenge, however, is to live and work out of gratitude. The Lord took on our guilt and saved us. In him the Divine work has been accomplished. The human missionary task is to give visibility to the Divine work in the midst of our daily existence. When we can come to realize that our guilt has been taken away and that only God saves, then we are free to serve, then we can live truly humble lives. Clinging to guilt is resisting God's grace, wanting to be a savior, competing with God's own being. Both are forms of idolatry and make missionary work very hard and eventually impossible.

Humility is the real Christian virtue. It means staying close to the ground (humus), to people, to everyday life, to what is happening with all its down-to-earthness. It is the virtue that opens our eyes for the presence of God on the earth and allows us to live grateful lives. The poor themselves are the first to help us to recognize true humility and gratitude. They can make a receptive missioner a truly happy person."