Today was a day that I never expected. I'm not sure how to even describe it because it came as such a shock. A good one I guess, I'm really not sure because I haven't had the time to really think about it. Maybe I'll figure it out as I write about it now...
Last night, Randy called me up and asked me if I wanted to attend his church this morning. Randy is a Youth for Christ missionary that I knew while in Bolivia, and he is back in Denver for a few week vacation before he heads back (many of you may recall the 180 bus trip I took with Randy over Christmas). Youth for Christ actually had about 5 short-timers work for them while I was there, and they are all from the Denver area and currently living here. I couldn't really hear Randy too well on the phone and all that he was saying (i understood he was going to share a little bit), but I got the name of the church and decided I would go visit it. Pretty typical behavior really, visit a bunch of churches when you first move to a place...
This morning I showed up maybe 15 minutes late to the service, and didn't have the time to find Randy and the other YFC missionaries so I just sat down somewhere in the middle. About 5 minutes later, I noticed 5 people up front with hooded sweatshirts and baseball caps under the pulled hoodies. My heart literally skipped a beat, and not because I was scared or anything like that. They looked exactly like how the shoe shiner guys dressed in La Paz. Spitting image. They even had the cloths that wrapped around their face, so that only their eyes could be seen. It took me back to Bolivia so quickly that I almost couldn't believe it. It was almost overwhelming. It made me want to be back in La Paz at that instant. Later they got up, and Randy shared about his ministry with the shoe shiners of La Paz. It was strange to probably be the only person in the congregation that knew exactly what he was talking about and who he was talking about and why he had chosen the things he was talking about. It made me miss a life that now feels so distant, yet at times like this morning so near. It made me think of a lot of my students. to name a few who might read this blog, dan, diego, matheo, jose manuel, juan manuel, pablo, berman, sarah, andy, horacio, iara, cecy, mia, oneide, alex, lucas, alex l., dulce, heber, juan felipe, jeremy, and the list goes on and on.
Everyone puts their time in this life at a different place, with different people. While todays images took me back to a different time, it reminded and challenged me to really live WITH the people that are around me. Not above them or on a different plane, but in the same place, with the same struggles and pains, and with the same dreams and hopes. It can really be done anywhere, even though days like today made me feel temporarily like my place is supposed to be in Bolivia.
There is a reason they were dressed as shoe shiners this morning, just as there is a reason as to why they shine shoes with these guys in the streets of La Paz. They did an excellent job of reminding me on a day I was not expecting to be reminded...
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Undercover
Yesterday the first snow storm of the year came to Denver with about 3 or 4 inches. While last night I had the hope of a reprieve from work, today I showed up to the yard only to be sent off to a job site north of the city to work in the snow. It was cold to say the least, and in only a few hours it turned into a muddy mess that I had to put up with for the next 10 hours.
Although I hate my job, I've decided to stick with it for as long as I'm able. I guess I have a weird attraction to things that suck and the pain that it causes. I'm thinking that the attraction might be the desire to understand a life that I could never live because of the place and time I was born...
I'm an undercover police officer. Two of the guys I've been working with for the last few weeks (Jose and Ignacio) told me last week that when I started with the company, they were convinced I was undercover. Apparently I've been looking for drug dealers and mexicans without their green cards for the last 6 weeks. While I could try to convince them that I am not in fact undercover, I've decided to keep my identity a mystery, and just kind of shrug my shoulders when they talk about it. They told me today that they think they were wrong, because no pig would stay undercover at a job like this for so long. My name is no longer "guerro" when I work with Jose and Ignacio, but "Undercover". While they've tried to keep their distance from me, I've started to get to know their stories, and when the time is right, I will share more about these two interesting characters I have come to call "Paranoids".
Although I hate my job, I've decided to stick with it for as long as I'm able. I guess I have a weird attraction to things that suck and the pain that it causes. I'm thinking that the attraction might be the desire to understand a life that I could never live because of the place and time I was born...
I'm an undercover police officer. Two of the guys I've been working with for the last few weeks (Jose and Ignacio) told me last week that when I started with the company, they were convinced I was undercover. Apparently I've been looking for drug dealers and mexicans without their green cards for the last 6 weeks. While I could try to convince them that I am not in fact undercover, I've decided to keep my identity a mystery, and just kind of shrug my shoulders when they talk about it. They told me today that they think they were wrong, because no pig would stay undercover at a job like this for so long. My name is no longer "guerro" when I work with Jose and Ignacio, but "Undercover". While they've tried to keep their distance from me, I've started to get to know their stories, and when the time is right, I will share more about these two interesting characters I have come to call "Paranoids".
Monday, October 02, 2006
Internet Access for me is back...
I just moved into Brent's place yesterday, and I once again have internet which means I will be able to start posting again. I know most of you don't believe that I will actually follow through and post as often as I once did, but the truth is I still have stories, and you all are wrong once again.
After staying at Marky and Lindsey's for a couple of weeks, I moved in with two friends (Callie and Emily) for the last few weeks. It was a lot of fun, although the apartment was always clean, everything always smelled good, and they often cooked dinner at night.
WORK. That's basically all I do, and nothing in that regard has changed since the last time I posted. I still drive to work before the sun starts to show itself, and I still come home after the sun has set. I really do hate the hours. Tomorrow I have a meeting with one of the main guys in the office who is in charge of the field because I have some issues with the company already. My problem is this. Everyone is ALWAYS on us to get things done faster. That's all I hear all day. FASTER FASTER FASTER. APURATE APURATE APURATE. The problem is, after working for 10 hours, there is no such thing as faster, there is only a slow and mechanical death that the body takes on. I equate it to the Marathon distance: If I have run 20 miles very hard every weekday, there is a positive chance the last 6 miles will not be as fast every day. It's called physical exertion, and each person only has so much, especially if it's being done every single day. The old work phrase "you're not working fast enough" loses all meaning, because OF COURSE I'M NOT WORKING AS FAST! Anyways, that's what I'm going to talk to the office about tomorrow, cause I'm sick of hearing it.
hasta la victoria
After staying at Marky and Lindsey's for a couple of weeks, I moved in with two friends (Callie and Emily) for the last few weeks. It was a lot of fun, although the apartment was always clean, everything always smelled good, and they often cooked dinner at night.
WORK. That's basically all I do, and nothing in that regard has changed since the last time I posted. I still drive to work before the sun starts to show itself, and I still come home after the sun has set. I really do hate the hours. Tomorrow I have a meeting with one of the main guys in the office who is in charge of the field because I have some issues with the company already. My problem is this. Everyone is ALWAYS on us to get things done faster. That's all I hear all day. FASTER FASTER FASTER. APURATE APURATE APURATE. The problem is, after working for 10 hours, there is no such thing as faster, there is only a slow and mechanical death that the body takes on. I equate it to the Marathon distance: If I have run 20 miles very hard every weekday, there is a positive chance the last 6 miles will not be as fast every day. It's called physical exertion, and each person only has so much, especially if it's being done every single day. The old work phrase "you're not working fast enough" loses all meaning, because OF COURSE I'M NOT WORKING AS FAST! Anyways, that's what I'm going to talk to the office about tomorrow, cause I'm sick of hearing it.
hasta la victoria
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