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Estamos descansando

Hello everyone,

Several of you have asked for a mailing address for our apartment in Mexico. Our address is:
Karsten and Gretchen V_____
Atencion: Hotel Casa Vieja
en la Chalet
Calle Ma. Adelina Flores No. 27
San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico 29230

Mail is kind of a gamble around here, but we have been able to receive a small package and a letter with few problems.

Nola is celebrating her 4th birthday on Feb 10 (and Marcie on Feb 22) and would love a simple card---or email!


Other updates:

We have been the recipients of some incredible hospitality in the last week--and we'll write more about that in the next few days. But here are a few pictures that you might like to see.


First of all, we took a wonderful walk at the Huitepec Nature Reserve, a cloud forest outside of San Cristobal:


Second, we took an overnight trip to Ocosingo to see some dear friends, worship at a new church, tour a medical clinic in progress--and make new friends, too:




Finally, we took some great pics of the girls--one of which I couldn't resist sharing:





With love,

K, G, N and M

Lo Siento

I apologize for slow postings lately. No excuses other than watching CNN International (election news) and the football playoffs. My Pats are looking strong, despite Brady’s ugly game (3 picks). While I feel bad about Favre and the Packers, I’m always game to beat a NY team.

Here are a few highlights of the past week:

Spanish lessons occupy much of our time. Gretchen is excelling. Nola is improving. Marcie and I are working hard. Poco-y-poco (little by little). Actually, I feel good about the improvement after 2 weeks. I’m focusing on learning and conjugating verbs. Nola is actually going to begin a private, Spanish-speaking Montessori school tomorrow (Monday). This will be a 9am- 2pm rhythm for her. We’ll see how it goes but she is extremely excited about learning with other kids (as opposed to the one-on-one lessons she has been taking). During the lessons a new friend, Pilar, comes and watches/plays with Marcie. This has made a huge difference for us.

We traveled to the indigenous village of Zinacatan yesterday (Saturday) in the local transportation system called “collectivo.” Wonderfully inexpensive—and eclectic-- way to travel around here. Zinacatan is a Tzotzil (Mayan descendants) speaking area about 10 miles north of San Cristobal. While the distance is close, it felt like we traveled to a different world when we literally descended into a beautiful valley. The Zinacantan are especially known for growing flowers which adorn their traditional outfits. We arrived during the festival honoring Saint Sebastian. He is one of the village’s patron saints. We witnessed horse racing; posh (corn-alcohol) drinking; fire-works crackling; Mariachi jamming and plenty of general merry-making. Unlike San Cristobal, there weren’t too many tourist types gawking and clicking pictures. In fact, I didn’t see any other tourist types. Needless to say, Nola and Marcie captured plenty of smiles, stares, and even small pecks on their rosy cheeks. Ever the 2^nd child, Marcie enjoys the latter more than her older sister.

We’ve deepened some relationships with hotel employees (one brought his wife and young daughter over today during the Patriot’s game—we’ll go their apartment this week); folks from the church we attend; and even other students/teachers at the language school. This relational building is balanced with our strong desire to intentionally enjoy our time together as a family. We are thankful.

Current Theological Musings:

1) Credibility and authenticity really do matter. I realize that such values are typical overly popularized buzz words of post-modern apologetics, but the Holy Spirit is deepening the conviction that “how” the church lives its mission is instrumental. As a recent example, I asked one of my somewhat cynical, yet social justice-oriented, Spanish instructors whether any churches in San Cristobal provided “soup kitchens” or community meals especially focused upon the many poverty-dwelling people in and around the city. He slyly smiled and told me that the churches (Catholic, Presbyterian, Pentecostal…) here only feed themselves. I pray that he is wrong for many reasons. Regardless, my instructor has rightful skepticism about the gospel when those of us who claim its allegiance “only feed ourselves.” Credibility and authenticity matter if we are to share the love of Christ within this wider world—maybe more now than ever.

2) Discipleship-making deserves renewed attention and energy. While in Chiapas, I spend exactly 15 hours each week of one-on-one instruction in Spanish. I literally sit in a small room for two 90 minute sessions each day hashing through grammar, vocabulary, conversation and the like. In addition, I have another hour or so of homework each night. This is intense and it works because of the personal attention and heightened accountability. Compare this to the state of discipleship-making in many of our churches back in the US and here in Mexico alike. We are basically assuming that persons can grow into the ways of Christ on their own. This is often true for newer believers, more mature Christians, and everyone in between. Even in the very beginning when Jesus took a bunch of “disciples” and grew in them the teachings of God’s Kingdom, discipleship-making involved relational attention, heightened accountability, and even committed time to learn, grow, ask hard questions, and be loved through the challenging answers. This certainly presupposes that people find it passionately critical to not only grow in their knowledge and discipling love of Jesus Christ, but to also participate in helping others learn, grow, and be loved by God’s great story of reconciliation. Tonight, I am wondering what our churches might learn from language institutes on how to make disciples.

3) People love to be loved. I realize this sounds simplistic, but I am reminded of its truth in watching cleaning ladies (so far, I’ve only seen women) do some of the dirtiest work imaginable. Around San Cristobal, few people clean up after their own dogs and the stray dogs don’t seem to care about their waste either. So, the city employs these women to clean such dog-crap by hand. This is awful work. This is humbling work. Usually these cleaners walk through the streets with their heads bowed low in acknowledgement of such work. I’ve made it a practice to make sure that I greet each of these workers with a pleasant greeting and warm smile. I’m sure others do as well, but to be honest, the poor aren’t treated well anywhere. I love watching the reaction from these women’s faces. Yes, I cared enough to share such greetings and yes, they were important enough for me to share such love and respect. A little surprised at first, I always receive a warm smile in return.

May you also be surprised by such warmth—or provide such warmth—even in the chilliest of places this week.

And for some interesting videos:

First of all, Marcie has an amazing pincer grasp. Let us demonstrate her skill at picking up the smallest of pieces of Special K:

Second of all, Nola has been helping Karsten with his Spanish vocabulary. Here they are doing an impromptu flashcard quiz:

Goodbye for now!

Finding the Rhythm

Gretchen awakens around 6 am to run and study while I get the girls up and ready (7:45ish). Our first class is at 9am and is a mere 10 minute walk from our apartment. Nola has a lesson with Lulu; Gretchen (and Marcie) with Luis; and I’m with Carlos this week. The language school will change all of this on Monday. These are 90 minute, one-on-one classes which can be somewhat intense and filled with much-needed work. Gretchen is much further along than me, and I even think Nola might lap me in a few weeks, but as the Spanish saying goes, “poco y poco”, little by little. We’ll often walk home around 11 a.m. and make lunch. In this culture, this is the biggest meal. Much to the sheer delight of Marcie (see picture), black beans are the staple of most of these mid-day meals. We often make eggs and beans, or bean tostadas, or beans and rice, or, for Nola, pancakes. There is an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables—frutas y verduras—and we have enjoyed pineapples, oranges, guavas, papayas, and mini bananas nearly every day.

Every 3 or 4 days, we’ll catch a bite at one of many local restaurants. A meal of the day can cost $3, which could include eggs (Mexican style, cooked in a type of salsa), beans, rice, toasted bread, corn tortillas and a licuado--water mixed with some freshly squeezed orange juice. I’ll often order some amazingly strong coffee as well. (If you haven’t tried Chiapas coffee, the seminary bookstore (WTS) in Holland sells very economically-priced, free-trade packages. This is great stuff for coffee lovers, and an important way to positively impact this local economy. Chiapas is the poorest state in Mexico. Much of this coffee comes from small, indigenous owned/worked family farms—folks who are near the lower rung of the economic ladder).

In the afternoon, we’ll all study (me, in the apartment while Marcie naps; Gretchen and Nola in the sun-soaked courtyard. Nola enjoys studying a book that she received from a dear friend in the U.S.—it’s one of those books that asks you to find the differences between two seemingly alike pictures). I’ll also get in a run before our next class begins at 4pm.

Running is challenging but enjoyable here. The elevation is around 8000 feet above sea level. Like a crown, hills majestically surround the city. Elevation and hills are slightly different from West Michigan running. In addition, few others jog. In fact, I haven’t seen anyone else running while here. This being said, I have a favorite route that takes me past the old Reformed Church in America “Mission House” and into some local farms. Today I ran past a Tzotzil woman tending to eight sheep. They didn’t seem fazed.

After our afternoon Spanish lesson (with a different teacher), the sun sets and we take a daily trip to a store where we buy what we need for that day. This also allows Nola to pick up a treat at the adjoining bakery (Today, she selected a miniscule cake donut with chocolate frosting and sprinkles.). Next comes dinner, bath and bed for the girls. One of us can cross the street to the hotel lobby to check emails (and post blogs) after all is calm on the home front. We’ll also sneak opportunities for further Spanish homework and to pour into some needed reading. Besides this daily rhythm, we find time to play family games (Dora Uno is the current choice), reconnect with some RCA folks in San Cristobal, listen to endless coverage of the New Hampshire primary on CNN International, and venture off on walking tours of this amazing city.

On Sunday, we worshiped in a RCA connected Presbyterian Church two blocks away. Nola loved being with other children during Sunday School and we all enjoyed the unconditional welcome we received by other brothers and sisters in Christ (hermonos y hermonas). Life is good and we are continuously grateful (to God, Trinity, and others making this sabbatical possible) for the opportunity to find such a rich rhythm of family, faith, and renewal.

Postscript: Nola told me just before falling to sleep tonight that she missed the donut store (Sandy’s on Leonard Street) back in Michigan. Fair enough. Buenos noches.

Here are some videos of Nola with her friends. One video is of Nola at her group lesson (an English lesson. Listen carefully to what the little girl says: "Su madre esta afuera"--telling Nola that I am outside the classroom. Then I laugh.

The other video is of Nola playing in our apartment with her toys. She named them Laura, Inga and Clorox. Can you tell that we've been using a lot of bleach these days? :)

Unencumbered

This setup, with Nola in the backpack and Marcelle in the sling, got Gretchen some time to catch up on a blog posting—and got Karsten some amused looks from the Chamulan (indigenous) woman across the street.

Since arriving in San Cristobal, we have made lists of various items to buy at the market. Among these items: eggs, milk, cheese, butter, bread, beans, tortillas, fresh produce, a can opener, matches, and, in a moment of weakness, an extra space heater (which we seriously considered buying—well, which GRETCHEN seriously considered buying—but then reconsidered, betting on a weather change). All of these items can be easily purchased at the local supermercado, the large mercado, from street vendors, or even at a large Meijer-like store on the outskirts of the city.

The “what if I need” instinct in me—the me from home—tempts me to buy as much as possible in one trip. It seems silly to go back later if I can simply buy more now. But then I think of the very small cupboard back at the apartment, and the two pots and two burners we have for cooking, and the dorm refrigerator already housing some leftovers and a very large bottle of Coca-cola, and I realize that I need very little at the moment. One stick of butter, one quart of milk, one dozen eggs, one bag of beans, one half of a kilo of tortillas—this is enough for several days for most of our neighbors here in San Cristobal.

I know a lot of people return from trips to developing countries and simplify their lives. Yes, I have done the same. I’ve cleaned out my closet and vowed to stay out of the mall. I’ve recalled my brothers and sisters in poverty and pledged to pray for them and act in ways that honor their witness as well as mine. On previous trips to Mexico, however, most meals have been prepared for me in restaurants and homes. We have moved into fully-furnished, fully-equipped hotel rooms and apartments. On previous trips, we have needed very little. Here, on this longer trip, the surroundings are a bit more stark (but not too stark). Nevertheless, the needs are more obvious, more tempting (especially when that space heater is $40 and it is 40 degrees outside, and we have the $ for such a purchase). I suppose I could lament the fact that I forgot to pack certain things, or that I need to buy ______. However, I am beginning to realize that I have been given the gift of time, and of practice. If I know that my world view will change the way I live my life when I return to the U.S., why not practice such discipline now? After all, couldn’t practice make close to perfect?

Gretchen

And a few easy updates for you all:

First of all, we will be starting Spanish lessons on Monday. This is all very exciting not only because our Spanish needs some serious work, but also because we found out that Nola can take private Spanish lessons in the mornings AND preschool-level lessons in the afternoons. She doesn’t need those extra lessons, especially since these are preschool-level English lessons, but the important thing is that she’ll be able to interact with some kids her own age. The last few days, Nola has been asking when she’ll get to play with some other kids. These extra lessons will hopefully fill that void for her. Here are a few pictures of the Instituto Jovel de Lenguas (and its beautiful courtyard):

Second, the weather has warmed considerably since we arrived in San Cristobal. We spent yesterday and today basking in glorious sunshine—and wore sunscreen today! Our apartment is finally warm. Here are some pictures of the view from our apartment window (and one of the apartment--we live upstairs):

Third, our kids are doing great. Marcelle has mastered the art of waving to complete strangers. Today, we walked through the city and in addition to the normal stares and smiles from the locals, we also got some waves. I then realized that Marcie was smiling and waving from the backpack. We took a video to document this helpful skill:

Our thoughts and prayers continue to be with all of you back home. We hope that these pictures, videos and updates help you to experience the many sights and sounds we’ve encountered these last few days. Our final video sums up the action on the streets of San Cristobol (especially the last-minute participation from a local child asking us to write our names in her school book—a common tactic that turns into a request for 10 pesos):

Hasta luego!

Communication 101

Hola y Buenos noches de San Cristobal, Chiapas

Here begins our royal experiment in blogging. It is our earnest hope that these stories and pictures share a taste of our Chiapas sabbatical. While the adventurous excitement of spending this time in southern Mexico allows us unique opportunities for renewal and rejuvenation, being away also means we will miss quality time from our dear friends and family (and church). May this blog lessen the spatial divide.

Waiting for our flight to Mexico City heightened the importance of communication, which is one of the major reasons we are here. On one side of the seating area was a deaf mother and her overly gregarious, non-deaf son from Madison, Wisconsin. We fielded many, many questions. They were en route to a vacation destination. She was armed with a Blackberry. On the other side was a Mexican American father with a daughter about Nola’s age. The father was bilingual and they were off to visit family around the Mexico City area. We all communicated through various means—lip reading, translation of English/Spanish, the use of the Blackberry, and in the case of the children, simply being children. Yes, there were limitations to what could be communicated, much like being an English speaking tourist in Mexico, or a Spanish speaking immigrant to the West side of Grand Rapids. One can get by, but only through the assistance and patience of people who can “bridge” the differences created by language, culture, and even disability. In this case, the main bridge-builder was the Mexican American father—a trumpeter in a mariachi band--who was born in Mexico but now lives in Chicago. He had the ability and desire to connect folks normally disconnected because of language or disability. We hope to act as such “bridges” in our life back in the “norte” when we return. During these next 11 weeks, we will be very reliant upon folks willing to spend a few extra moments with us while we fumble through dictionaries and limited vocabulary. Without such help, we wouldn’t be able to do much. Communication certainly involves linguistic “knowledge” but in the wider picture, effective communication necessitates a bridge-building desire. This is certainly true for the work of the gospel (many of us just sang a riveting rendition of “Go Tell it on the Mountain” on Christmas Eve) but also as human beings trying to live together with dignity. I write all of this as Kenya further implodes and as Madison Avenue readies more negative campaign ads in New Hampshire.

On a different note, we’ve dug into our apartment and have enjoyed reacquainting ourselves with San Cristobal. The market is bustling. The streets are filled with energy. The fruits are lush. The coffee is thick. Once we figured out the Spanish word for matches (really—how else would we light our stove?) we enjoyed a Chiapan meal—black beans, tortillas, green beans, manchego cheese, and potatoes…with fresh pineapple for dessert.

It is great being back and walking Nola (Nolita down here) and Marcie (Marcella) through one our favorite places in the wider mundo. Both girls are getting plenty of stares, smiles, and kisses (the locals say that they are muy preciosas). Our only complaint is that it is extremely cold. Seriously. While we are in the highlands of Chiapas, this weather seems exceptionally harsh. With folks shivering everywhere we go, it is also apparent that this is harsh by local standards as well. While it would be nice to have the sun make an appearance, life goes on. Language lessons (bridge building) formally begin next week, but they really started before we even got onto the plane.

Here are links to two videos: one of our apartment and one of the streets of San Cristobal.

Karsten