Volunteers are in community

Hello everyone,

I'm sorry things have been so crazy. I said I would be more consistent about updating this, and I plan to keep it that way. Volunteers are in community. Such a simple statement for such a ridiculous action. How this organization manages to get more than fifty high school students (most of them anyway) on a plane and into the homes of caring Latin American men and women year after year I will never understand. I do understand the why though, and that is all that matters to me. And I understand part of it. There are a lot of sleepless nights. And laughter that springs from exhausted insanity. And a lot of hours checking and trusting and proceeding. Because at the end of the day, no matter what gets left behind or who doesn't do their fair share, you have to push forward. Time waits for no one. But yes. Vols are in community.

Life here is different than I expected. For the past two years of my life, I have continuously received small tasks to complete, and once they are finished, I would ask for more. Here, I have this enormous thriving mess that constantly has to be checked and remembered and all of the parts move even when they're not supposed to. I can feel them moving. The volunteers. I can feel them settling into their communities. Walking around their neighborhoods and meeting and speaking and struggling and failing and succeeding. I can hear their sniffles and their laughter and their tears and their loud farts as they try to adjust to things they've never tried before.

Briefing, where the volunteers receive their training, is an odd beast. You've stolen these little ones from their homes and are holding them above their new bowls. Like fish they thrash and squirm and scream with a need for life. To be in their new homes. But you have to make sure that their new homes are clean and ready for their arrival. And then you give them one quick breath as you pair them with these people who they are praying will be their new best friends. Then you must give them older brothers and sisters who swear to spend sleepless nights ensuring their safety and to fight tirelessly for an ounce of their happiness and satisfaction. My eyes teared watching the excitement of seeing them find out their partnerships and supervisors for the summer. It seems just yesterday that JCC was formed. I miss and love each of them still. Even the ones that stabbed me in the heart. And then of course there are my girls from Houston. Even though I am not their supervisor, they are still my girls, and I am still their papa.

And now we hide in our sanctuary here in Chitré. Protected from them for only a little while until the piercing screech of the telephone sends us to their sides. And to be honest, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.