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Showing posts with label Costa Rica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Costa Rica. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

What I'm doing for Lent: Son's Side Up

Last year in Costa Rica, I went around to each classroom at San Francis and gave a presentation about Lent or Cuaresma,  In these classroom visits, I challenged the students to do something for Lent which involved prayer, fasting (or sacrifice), and some type of service or charitable action.  What some of these kids end up writing down humbled me: giving up video games, junk food, chocolate, TV, Facebook, stop gossiping, stop cursing, get along with a sibling, spend more time with a grandparent, adding five minutes at the beginning and end of their days in prayer, or my favorite and most unique that someone wrote: take the time to apologize and say, "I'm sorry" to someone.

This kid is Smiles-R-Us
This year, I don't know about you, but Lent kind of crept up on me. I haven't really been thinking about it and today, Ash Wednesday showed up, and I still wasn't sure what my promise was going to be.  Then one of my best friends told me what he was going to do.  It kind of made me laugh.

"I'm going to work on smiling."

He told me he doesn't do it enough (or at all), that it has to do with a lot of things, including mistrust, and he needs to work on it.  I commended him.  He actually inspired what will become one of my Lenten promises.

The other week, I wrote a post called Sexual Freedom which was about my answer to some hot topics about sexual temptation.  I'm a big believer that for any sin, the best way to avoid it is not to concentrate on it, but to focus our lives on better things.  Take pornography for example.  I don't succeed at not looking at it by sitting at a computer each day and saying to myself, "I'm not going to look at porn, I'm not going to look at porn, I'm not going to look at porn."  That may work for the Little Engine That Could, but I guarantee that won't work for most guys.  The secret, I've found, again this could apply to any sin, is something my 'ol priest back at CUA Fr. Bob told me, "Fill your cup."  Meaning, if I fill my cup with better things in my life to the point where I don't have room for anything else, I won't have have room for the crap life tempts me with. 

It's hard to think this guy was a
Debbie Downer
Back to Lent.  How did Jesus take on the desert for 40 days and 40 nights?  He had God with him, OK, through prayer, yes.  But today's the first time I thought about that he probably didn't concentrate on his inconveniences or how crappy his life was.  He probably never said, "Oh woe is me.  This sucks."  I bet, and this is my light-bulb-moment of the day, he instead focused on the brighter, sunny side up of life.[Insert foreshadow of pun here.]

So that's what I'm going to do for Lent.  For the next 40 days, I'm going to focus on finding one thing or moment per day that brings me joy. To me, I feel the point of Lent is to humble ourselves, remind ourselves of Christ's sacrifice for us, and in return, better our own lives.  That's why we make these promises or sacrifices. This time, instead of focusing on the sacrifice, I'm going to focus on the positive.  Last November, I was inspired by Catholic Volunteer Network's conference on the importance of JOY in our lives, especially inspired by Fr. James Martin and his talk about how joy is at the core of our spiritual lives.

I'm going to take a picture of this thing that bring me joy each day for 40 days, and I'm going to put it on here on my blog, one day at a time.  Each time I take that picture, I'm going to reflect on Jesus, his sacrifice, and thank Him. And I'm going to call this series, yep, you might guessed it...

Son's Side Up.

Amén.




Monday, January 30, 2012

Community: It is what you make it


My year was covered with community love
[Editor's note: This was written Nov 2011]

As I write this, I see my housemates from Costa Rica, Brittany and Jelly, sleeping and sharing a pullout couch.  Jordan and Tom, my other CR housemates, are in the other room still snoozing.  All of us together are here in Baltimore, reunited once again after leaving each other this past July when our volunteer program ended.  Oh, and our director from last year, Bro. Jim, had dinner with us last night. 

When I told some friends that my old housemates and I were reuniting to catch the Notre Dame-Maryland game today, some people were like, “Wow, you guys must be real tight.”

The truth is, yes, we were/are a tight community/group of friends.  And after having many conversations in my travels about how other communities are doing across the nation and hearing even more stories of communities of the past, I’m starting to understand that what my house in San Jose, Costa Rica may have been atypical, even exceptional.

I have to admit that we did get blessed with the luck of the draw.  If one of us had not applied to our program, the dynamics of our community would have been completely different and maybe not as good.  Plus, I credit our past director, Bro. Jim, for choosing us.

With that said, I’d like to also give us more credit, and challenge current and future communities across the nation, and say I believe our community turned out great this year because each of us personally owned up to the call of intentional community.

We shared the journey
I remember at orientation, my then-director Bro. Jim set the tone on how intentional community living should be. He read scripture about a disciple asking Jesus how we should love and serve one another.  He then dropped his bible, got on his knees, whipped out a water basin, and began to wash our feet.  This was the same feet that had been dirtied from hiking around all day.  He washed them.  It was a powerful moment, the only sound in the room coming from the water pouring and hands rubbing feet.  I teared up.  Bro. Jim’s message was clear from that day forward.

And here’s where I’ll say it.  Community only works if each member is invested in each other and more importantly, if we all humbly serve one another.  I began to fall in love with my community when I noticed that all of us would chip in to clean up every night we had dinner together.  Someone was dutied for dishes but everyone else without being asked would help out in the kitchen, one wiping the table, another sweeping, others drying and putting away dishes, and we always did it to Lady Gaga or Usher or whoever was playing in the background.  Each night we had our dinners, we always shut the lights out on a clean kitchen.

I probably fell more in love with my community when little things would get done for each other.  We didn’t have a dryer down there so we had to hang up all of our clothes (which was often difficult as it rained so much in Costa Rica).  Sometimes I would come home and I’d see my clothes folded for me, neatly piled on my bed.  How humbling!  In the middle of thanking one of them they’d joke, “Well, to be honest I needed room to hang my clothes.” 

I won’t say we had this give and take all year.  It’s inevitable that some would do more than others, there are days I would not be as invested, we disagreed and fought about things (don’t get us started on toilet paper usage) but that was another important lesson: talking things out make things run smoothly.  Consistently throughout the year, if it was after community prayer or dinner, we’d do “check-in," just to get a feel for how people are doing/feeling.  These frequent check-ins helped stop larger issues from brewing. 

Who you get is up in the air.
I personally saw all this as preparation for my eventual future community: my wife and family.  You learn in sports that teams play games the way they practice and one of the biggest gifts I got from my time last year is the experience and knowledge that it is possible to have a dinner every night together with others, to do dishes and have a clean kitchen every night, and that we could pray every night, too.  Knowing that this is possible, I now want and expect it to happen in the future game I’ll play called married life. 

All communities are different.  And as blessed as I feel to walk away with a great experience, I have to say that all of the conversations about other people’s community, even the most dysfunctional ones, each person talk about it with a loving lens and they are glad to have experienced it for themselves.  I actually can’t imagine doing service any other way.

And I’m a big believer that it all starts with head-down humility, the no-thanks-expecting nothing-in-return act of washing one’s feet.

Amen.


Thursday, August 18, 2011

Articles about my service year in Costa Rica

So apparently I'm getting published here and there....check it out!

http://www.cua.edu/125/news/LongTermServiceSurprisesBizGrad.cfm
This article is specifically about me and what I was doing in Costa Rica and how it's changed me.

http://www.cua.edu/125/news/longtermservice.cfm
This article is more about long-term service in general, but it has a picture of me at a service site with a couple of my students. 

Who whudda thunk, huh?

Amen.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Last Prayer

Tonight my housemates from Costa Rica and I said our last prayer together.  In Tom's room in Pennsylvania, a couple weeks back from down south (some of us more), and we laid in his bed and prayed for the last time. We each said one thing we were thankful for in the year.  One mentioned gratitude for the people we met, another for the fun we had, another for how she has changed, another specifically about St. Francis and his model to live by.  

I was thankful for how much this year has (unexpectedly) altered the way I want to live the rest of my life.  In this past year, I got to find out that I want to teach and has pushed my ambitions and life goals in that direction.   Through our community I found out that it is possible to pray together every day with someone else, to share a meal every day together, both things I was skeptical that it was going to happen, but it did, and I want to bring that to my family.  I told them that I too had fallen in love with St. Francis and the Franciscan way of thinking and living.  And no, maybe I won't be a Franciscan friar, but I want to have a Franciscan family one day, a family that is big on feasting together, laughing together, and being true to each other.  And words are not necessary in any of those activities. 


At the end of our prayer, we ended with one Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be in Spanish.  It was touching for me, to say it together, probably the first full Spanish sentences some of us have said since Costa Rica.  And I was proud, that we knew it with our eyes closed, with a Tico accent and everything.  It took me personally a long time to get these prayers down by heart, longer than everyone else when we first learned them in our first several weeks.  I write them below:


Padre nuestro 
que estás en el cielo.
Santificado sea tu nombre.
Venga a nosotros tu reino.
Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.
Danos hoy nuestra pan de cada día.
Perdona nuestras ofensas,
como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.
No nos dejes caer en tentación
y líbranos del mal. 
Amén.

Dios te salve María, llena eres de gracia,
El Señor es contigo.
Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres,
y bendito es el fruto tu vientre Jesús.
Santa María, Madre de Dios
ruega por nosotros, pecadores,
ahora y la hora de nuestra muerte.
Amén.

Gloria al Padre, al Hijo y al Espíritu Santo
Como era en el principio, ahora y siempre, por los siglos de los siglos.
Amén.  

------------


And for me, it wasn't a better way to end our prayer, our year.  In Spanish, something we had learned and experienced together, to our Father and Mother who took care of us down there.  Thank You God.  Gracias a Dios.


Amén.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

The Present of the Moment

            Today I found myself doing something I haven't done for a majority of this year.  I was having dinner outside sitting with the core members and workers at L'Arche, the volunteers from Syracuse, and Amy's parents and brother.  We were there celebrating Amy's birthday, lucky her having three communities, really three families, surrounding her on her day.  I joked with Danielle, one of the core members, I laughed with Amy's mom, and played sass-tennis with Jeanie as we tend to do since I've been down here.  And in the middle of that picture-perfect memory, I found a peace in myself and noticed I was doing something I found so hard to do for months.  I was living in the moment.

            January this year, I came back from winter break strong with momentum and everything was hitting all cylinders.  I was praying and working out every day, going to bed and waking up at the same time, and my balance of life, work, community, and friends and family were pretty good. 

            Then once March rolled around and was starting to be in the thick of applying for jobs, things started to change.  I was applying to dozens of teaching and ministry jobs, waiting, waiting, checking my e-mail several times a day.  After not hearing back from many, getting straight e-mails how it "won't work out", I got two interviews via Skype.  Both felt like shoe-ins, one at a school where one of my best friends worked was talking up the staff for me and another at my old parish where many of the staff already knew and liked me.  After what felt like another month of interviewing and waiting for them, I received e-mails from both directors saying the spot has been filled. 

            The following months I pursued with the job search (longer than I had expected), and even though I had my projects like my Lent Project, "Proyecto Cuaresma" I found myself still at times filled with anxiety and still wondering and worrying about my future. 

            Finally on May 31st, I landed my job with Catholic Volunteer Network, and for that last month, especially my last two weeks until now I have found the present moment again, especially starting in Costa Rica considering that I may never see some of these people ever again.

            I guess I just want to reflect on how refreshing it has been to be fully in the moment of where I am.  To be with someone and just sit and be fully engaged in what they're saying, not thinking or worrying about what I need to be doing somewhere else.

If I had a Dumbledore's Pensieve to save memories, I would take my wand and pull out these picture-framed moments of the past several weeks to save forever. 

-Tom's tears as he read us his final prayer to us in our living room.  His tears weren't the only ones falling in that room.

-Brittany's pursed lips whenever she talks about her girls from her work and how they give her havoc. 

-Jelly's barking laugh, chin up in the air and eyes shut, finding humor in one or all of us.

-Jordan holding me when one day after I came home in tears after an upsetting moment at Hogar.

-Singing "Trading My Sorrows" with my youth group, Paxto, for a last time, all of them praising God with me with their thumbs and L's in the air yelling "Yes, Lord! Yes, yes Lord!"

-Reading "Buenas Noches", my departing poem to my English classes, the kids that have made me realize my calling in teaching. 

-Playing "Pass the top" with the my boys at La Isla.  I had taught them to say "May I have the top," "Yes, you may" and "Thank you" in the exchange of the thing we threw around.

-Hitting the last student square in the chest in our last dodgeball game of the tournament that my decimos and I organized.  It was glorious.

-Saying goodbye to Flori, a blind woman I had gotten close to at Hogar, at her bedside because she's really sick now.  Saying one last prayer with her, holding her hand, seeing her tears, hearing her say my name one last time, "Mateo...."

-Being in front of the teaching staff in my goodbye breakfast, telling their example has made me want to become a teacher.  Some joking, shaking heads, telling me I had chosen wrongly.

-Singing and playing guitar in the office with my boss Jenny, praising God together, songs I had taught her in the beginning of the year, finishing our time together with those same songs.  Blessed be the name of the Lord.

-Arriving on U.S. soil, to find in the Charlotte airport Bojangles Fried Chicken, my all-time favorite fast food that's based out of NC.  Getting upgraded a 3-pc meal for 2-pc for free.  The seasoning and Texas Pete hot sauce covering everything.  It was a sure sign God loved me.

The first weekend back, I attended a wedding where I saw a lot of close friends.

-The moment Josh and I rolled into Kelsey, Kara, and Juliette's hotel room, which JJ later followed.  House '08-'09 reunite.  I'm the luckiest guy to have loving faces to be so happy to see you after such a long time, joke with you, beam at you. Kara yelling: "Matt has facial hair!"  These are best friends for life.

-Seeing Casey and Kate kiss the numerous times at the wedding and reception.  They are so in love.  And classy.  I want to be that in love and classy when I get married one day.

-Praying with Mimi in the hallway before the night ended, both leaning over the railing.  It's touching that I can still pray with my friend after not talking and seeing each other for so long.

This past week I've had the opportunity to go to each of the sites of the volunteers here in Syracuse, one per day.

-At Jeannie's site, Vincent House, to see the smile on Malaysia, a short pudgy girl with almond-colored skin, a smile where her eyes look almost shut.  Every time I glanced at this seven-year-old I thought to myself, "She is so pretty."

-At Tim's site, CYO, to see Gah Wah, a four-year old Asian boy with red pajama outfit with action heroes all over it.  The way he would just sprawl out on the floor when he was tired, overwhelmed from learning ABC's.

-At Monsy's site, the food pantry, Sister Therese as she's packing the grocery bags.  Joking to me how she needs a step to reach the top shelves.

-And at Amy's site, L'Arche, "shooting" Tim, one of the core members, in the eye, and he going, "Oh!" while grabbing his eye, then following, like a script, "Did you see that?"

            A side not about the my friends here at Syracuse...they inspire me.  They are so into their work, into the relationships they have with who they work with ("work" in quotations, as Amy would put it).  They really are invested, and they often put extra hours, extra heart, so things can work out the way they should.  They may have been overworked this year at times, but it's manifest that the places they work at are over-loved by them.

            As for me, I'm at a peace again after months of trying to find it.  I had moments, but this past month since the last two weeks of Costa Rica, has been the most consistent time I've just been happy. (Well, I take that back, the last two weeks of Costa Rica I was borderline depressed thinking about all the people I was leaving).  But I got my closure there and I'm smiling because it happened as Dr. Seuss would say.  Not stressing about jobs, not stressing about girls, just me being me, playing my guitar, smiling at the person I'm talking to, engaged in what they have to say, laughing out loud at stories told, and having no other place to be but here and now.

            My dad once told me that life and each day is a gift.  Jordan would say "that's why they call it the present."  I say, thank you God, for letting me to truly be in it again.
  
           Amén.


Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Despedida

A couple last words written and/or said to a couple key people today on my last day:

"No sabiá mi futuro antes de me llegue aquí en Costa Rica, a San Francis, que voy a hacer despúes mi tiempo aquí.  Yo crecí pensando no es posible para ser un profe y tener bastante plata para una familia también, pero ustedes profes, están haciendolo, están haciendolo, me inspiran, porque de sus ejemplos, y de mi experiencia dando clases de inglés a los décimos, quiero ser un profe ahora.....Me di cuenta ustedes son una buenísima familia.  Ojalá voy a buscar una familia como ustedes en un colegio en los estados."
-To the teaching staff in my good-bye breakfast and teacher´s meeting

"Gracias por ser mi oración contestada. "
-What I had said to Paxto, and a couple other key people today.  In our house there´s a jar where we put shells in for answered prayers.  Throughout the year my housemates and I have put a shell (collected from the beach) into the jar whenever we felt God had answered one of our prayers.  I had put shells in when I would pray for La Isla to start or for more new volunteers for Hogar.  The shells I gave to people were to signify to that person that he or she was specifically an answered prayer for me.  I meant every bit of it. 


"You are a leader.  The world, the church, will need, and needs guys like you.  Keep your prayer life alive and show it to everyone.  People look up to you and you need to be the example for your peers, your friends.  You´re a leader, mae. "
-Words to one of my guys, taking him aside.  In reality, there are a lot of good male leaders at the school, and could have said this to a lot more, and I have in different ways in different times to others, either written or said.  I was glad to at least catch this one in particular. 


"Tenga paz en su vida.  Cuando si hay paz, bendice el nombre del Señor.  Cuando no hay paz, bendice el nombre del Señor."
-what I wrote on Jenny´s song sheet of "Blessed Be Your Name".  We had sang that song together several times together, especially last fall.  It´s one of her favorites as is mine, probably top five ever.  It meant so much to me to sing it with her, and to sing that song after this year.  There had been moments when "the sun [was] shining down on me" and "the world[was] all as it should be" but there were other moments, especially this year when my "road was marked with suffering" and "there [was] "pain in the offering."  In total case, singing the song made me realize I can´t help but praise and thank God for all of it, He lovingly gave me my blessings, got me through my sufferings, and I´m better for all of it.  Blessed be the name of the Lord. 

Good-bye San Francis, good-bye Costa Rica.  Thank you for being good to me. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Amén.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Beginning of the end

Last Monday I started to plan my good-byes and thank-yous.

This morning I asked Miguel if I could have some time to say good-bye to everyone for our last Paxto.

These are not happy activities.

Tomorrow will mark the beginnings of the Lasts.  Last Paxto, then next week, Last conversation class, Last La Isla, Last Hogar, Last everything....

:/

Lord, a prayer to You.

Amen.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Something to chew on

As my close friends and family know, food is a big part of me (though, I´m not that big).  I have an appetite of an elephant and the size of an ant.  I simply love food.  Of my top 5 Things in Life, eating a good meal is a very close second next to spending quality time with close friends or family.  Obviously the combination of the two is the ultimate trump.

A lot of times for lunch, I´ll go home to the house and eat dinner leftovers.  And I´ll just sit and eat, nothing to read, nothing to watch.  For many years, I used to always need some other type of stimulation while I was eating, whether it was rereading the back of cereal boxes when I was a kid, watching TV with my plate on a chair as a teen (shoot, I still do that), or checking my E-mail when I was in college.  Now I just sit and eat, rest my mind, and concentrate on the moment and the food I´m eating.  Maybe I picked this up after watching Eat, Pray, Love several months ago, but I can´t blame Julia Robert´s character for trying it.  It´s such a different experience when it´s just you, your food, and your thoughts.  Like an intimate relationship.  When I was on newspaper staff in high school, we used to order these huge burritoes from a local hole in the wall during production week, and I remember my then-Editor-in-Chief Will Litton saying, "You have to make love to the burrito" and he would close his eyes, and slowly bite and chew the chickens-bean-guacomole-queso-rice-filled tortilla.  His make out/love/eating session would last quite the moment.  I, likewise, share the same care and love for food.

I´m the type of person who will eat anything.  Though, at this moment, I´d like to make a shout-out to those special foods who tear at my heart-strings.  To do this, I will categorize this by meals.

Breakfast
Spam
Made in Minnesota, loved by Filipinos

First Place: Spam and Rice
Since I was a kid my favorite breakfast is Spam and Rice.  Simple, from the can (made from Minnesotta, who knew Jordan Differding), spam cut up thinly, fried to a crisp, and eaten with plain rice-cooker rice.  Eaten with fork and spoon---Filipino style.  If you really want to get into Filipino style, you could eat with your hands (right hand for mouth, left for tearing meat), and sit on your chair with one foot on it having your knee all up in the air.  Also, if it was a true Filipino meal, there wouldn´t just be spam and rice on the table (there are never just two items for any Filipino meal) and you might find dinner leftovers made into some type of fried rice, fruit, and probably a combination of eggs.

Runner Up: Bacon and Eggs
Now, it´s not like I can show up at someone´s house or Denny´s and ask for Spam and Rice. That just wouldn´t be right.   So the next best thing is bacon and eggs.  Emphasis on the bacon.  I don´t mess around, bacon is up there on my top five favorite foods ever---for it´s crunchiness, greasiness, saltiness, and versatility (it can show up on your eggs, in a sandwhich, on a burger, even around yummy appetizers).  It´s simply amazing.  As for the eggs, I love my huevos sunny side up, very runny to soak up with with bread, or the Filipino way, with rice.


Honorable Mentions: Gallo Pinto or multi-grain, nutty, oaty cereal
Gallo Pinto is the typical Costa Rican breakfast made up of fried up beans and rice.  It´s cooked differently everywhere I go, but a well made one takes the cake.  Again, insert bacon and/or fried eggs here.
If none of these are available, I do appreciate a good cereal that has crunch, almonds, and oats all up in it.  I love this cereal here in CR called "Komplete" Miel flavored.  It´s comparable to Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds, my favorite cereal in the U.S.

[Editor´s note: I´m getting hungry writing this, and I just had lunch.]

Lunch
First Place: Fried Chicken
Bojangles...just gotta have more.
If there is a food I have been most deprived of the past five years (fours years in D.C., one year here in Costa Rica) it would be good ´ol Southern fried chicken.  Where is my Bojangles??!  Ah, the right formula of cruchiness, greasiness, with hot sacue (Texas Pete, Tobasco go away) is again up there in top favorite foods ever.  Add in Bojangle´s seasoned fries or if I´m at home, a plate of rice and I´m in heaven.  Throw in a glass of cold, sweet tea.  Add in a heart attack, but it´s well worth it.


Runners-Up: A good meaty sandwhich or cheeseburger (insert bacon here)
Give me a sandwhich with thinly sliced salami, tomatoes, cheese, and bacon and I´m good to go.  Or a good meaty restaraunt burger with cheddar cheese and bacon and I am on like Donkey Kong.  Or a good chicken sandwhich from Chik-fil-a (again, very southern).  With either, a plate of fries is a must.  Side note, fries are one of my top favorite foods ever (Bojangles´seasoned fried or Chik-Fil-A´s waffle fries or when I´m home I´ve made fries a several times).  Actually, the potato itself is top two, and I rank how much I like them based on its crunchiness and friedness----french fries, tater tots, hash browns, latkes (prounounced "la-kas". I would be Jewish solely for these bad boys), baked potatoes and last, mashed potatoes.  


Honorable mentions: My mom´s lumpia and arroz con pollo
One of my favorite meals ever has been my mom´s egg rolls, dipped in vinegar, eaten with plain rice, all by hand.  This is probably my most missed meal and haven´t had in a very long time.  It´s a treasure of my childhood though and special occasions.
Arroz con pollo is also very Tico and is literally translated "rice with chicken".  It is fried up rice with bits of chicken and vegetables mixed with it eaten with frijoles molidos or refried beans and eaten by scooping all of it with big potato chips.  If there is a meal I´ve had fourths and fifths of, it would arroz con pollo down here in Costa Rica. 

Dinner
As difficult as this category is, I have to break it up with all the different parts of the dinner meal.
The perfect dinner includes:

Salad. As carnivorous as I am, I love me a good salad with a well-done dressing (my current favorite is Fray Nader´s olive oil and red wine vinaigrette that I´m learning to make.  Second favorites would a good Italian or Japanese Ginger House dressing.) 

Appetizer: Something fried like buffalo wings (Top 10 pick) or mozarella sticks and marinara sauce or if we´re going classy: fried, chewy calamari (currently most frequently chosen appetizer by Mateo) 


My requested last meal
The main event: Steak
If there is one food completely missing in Costa Rica, it´s the big, fat, juicy, medium rare steak that we have in the United States.  As tender as the Filet Mignon is, it´s not enough food.  Slab me that New York Strip, Ribeye or Porterhouse 20 oz and now we´re talking.  Hit me with a side of asparagus, maybe a mushroom sauce (both top five vegetables), and some type of variation of potato and I am loving life.  Since working at a Japanese restaraunt, I´ve always loved their steak Hibachi style with all the different sauces.  

Dessert.  Now I´m not much of dessert guy (I always felt bad when cookies or brownies were given as gifts from friends and I couldn´t eat it all).  Honestly, I´m the type of person who would rather half thirds than a plate of pie.  But if I had to choose, my favorite desserts have always been in fruit form.  I love me some cold, cut up mango or watermelon.  Also, my cousin Titat´s cookie cake topped with cool whip and a variety of fruit on top has been a local favorite.

Runner-Up: Some form of burrito or taco or quesadilla or taco shell salad with chips and salsa
Since working at Moe´s, I´ve had a knack for creating the tasty burritoes and tacos of different ingredients.  I already made it a law (discussion with unknown wife not necessary) for my future family to have at least one Mexican night where I can conjur one of the above contraptions. 


Honorable Mentions: Italian and seafood
If I were to have a pizza all to myself (or with someone with my same-tastes), it would be a thin-crust pepperoni, mushroom, and anchovi.  Yes, anchovi.  I remember when I was a kid my family and I went to Kitty Hawk Pizza in the Outer Banks, and my dad was insisted in asking if they had anchovies.  I never had heard about it before, but I wanted to have what my dad was having.  And the thin pieces of it on my pizza was delicious.

As for pasta, I love me a good white sauce (something I´m currently try to make well) with a linguini or a good garlic red sauce with penne.  Or better yet, a good pesto is my favorite and is the next sauce I´m learning to make well. What I like about Italian food is that it´s pretty filling, which is pretty important if I´m involved.

As for seafood, I love me a good tuna steak (raw in the center), or better my Dad´s salmon, or cracking blue crabs or Alaskan crab legs.  Sushi hits the spot, too, with wasubi, tuna or shrimp tempura being top favorites.  The thing about seafood is that it´s often not enough to fill me up.  Problem-city involving this continously hungry stomach.

Disclaimer: As much as I mentioned different brands, I will say that a home-cooked meal of anything is my favorite.  I am going to go ahead and say that a well-cooked breakfast, lunch, or dinner is one of the best gifts you can give me, or in my opinion, anyone.  With that said, I´ve been trying to train myself this past year to be a better cook, so I can one day deliver this kind of gift to people. 

I´m a little ridiculous when it comes to food, I know.  But it´s the little things that count in life, right?  One bite at a time.

Amen.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Bastará

"Lord, I´m not worthy to receive You, but only say the word and I shall be healed."

Since freshman year of college, this has always been my favorite prayer to say during Mass.  My friend Mike used to make fun of me: "Dude, you would just have your eyes closed and you´d say it so much louder and slower than everyone else.  You´d look so intense."  Haha, and I would laugh with him, I guess I am a little intense, but that´s how I felt about the prayer.  Considering the big pride issue I have, the prayer allows me to humble myself at my knees (literally, we´re kneeling at that moment) and remind myself I really am not worthy to receive Jesus as we´re about to go up for communion.

I appreciated the prayer even more when one day at campus ministry Ashley Wells and I were talking about it (I´m pretty sure it was after I had asked her who her favorite Gospel writer was, and she said Johh, and I said, "No, I meant out of the Synoptics", and then we laughed at how gross our Catholic geekiness was).  I mentioned how that was my favorite part of the Mass, and she said it was one of her favorites too, especially because of the story in the Bible where it comes from.  I said, "There´s a story?"  And she said, "Yeah, it´s the story from the Centurion who had his servant sick, and tells Jesus that he´s not worthy to receive Him in his house to heal him, but if He only said the word he shall be healed."  To this day when I say that prayer I think about the story and how the power of the Centurion´s faith was enough for his servant to be healed.  Thanks Ash.

Well, anyway, since being here in Costa Rica, saying this same prayer has never had the same effect in Spanish until a couple days ago.  The prayer in Spanish is:

"Señor, no soy digno de que entres en mi casa, pero una palabra tuya bastará para sanarme."

I always appreciated the first part, because it´s closer to the actual words of the Centurion in the Bible: "Lord, I´m not worthy to have you in my house" but I always just kind of guessed on the second part, knowing it loosely translated to what I know in my head "say the word and I shall be healed"  Everytime I read this prayer (I keep a little cheat sheet card of the Mass prayers in Spanish) I always wondered what bastará and sanar literally meant.  Especially when I would go to daily Mass with the friars, I told myself I would look those two words up later, but I always forgot.

Then last Tuesday when I took mom, dad, and Melissa to the daily Mass with the friars while they were here, I had a light bulb moment.  Someone had said it or I had read it differently, and I realized (stupid me) that the there was an accent on the "a" in bastará because it was the future tense of bastar.  And I never used the verb bastar before, but I realized it must come from basta, which means "enough."  Maybe I should have figured this out a long time ago, but it was a huge revelation to me considering how much I like this prayer.  Bastará literally means "will be enough."  Then para sanarme must mean "to heal me".  For the first time I finally understood what the prayer was literally saying "Señor, no soy digno de que entres in mi casa, pero una palabra tuya bastará para sanarme" means "Lord, I´m not worthy to have You in my house, but Your Word will be enough to heal me."  

After months of being frustrated with the job search, two interviews, two rejections, not hearing back from the other dozen applications, becoming a little Negative Nancy this past month about it and getting off my game of being the best version of myself, I had come to a point where I wanted to change my attitude, where I needed to choose to be happy again. This realization lead to this choice, prayer lead to this choice, and my family´s visit, especially the joy and laughter of my sister brought me back to this choice. Right there in Mass after communion, after my revelation, I wrote this in my journal:

"Bastará para sanarme"
Your Word will be enough to heal me.
Father, may You be enough for me.  May my family be enough for me, my friends be enough for me.  My failures be enough for me.  My accomplishments, hunger, and dreams be enough for me.
May your love be enough for me.
May your love be enough for me.
May your love be enough for me.


"Bastará para sanarme."
Amén.

Then I sat there, and I asked God, "How can I let your love be enough for me?"  After silent reflection, I wrote this down below my prayer, something I believe that came from Him:

"See the love you want to see
Be the love you want to be
Free the love that you should free."

Lord, may You be enough for me.  Bastará para sanarme.

Amén.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Cuaresma

A couple weeks before Lent started, I was inspired to do a project for Lent, but wasn´t quite sure what.  After talking to a lot of different people, and the idea changing daily, I, really we, collectively came up with Proyecto Cuaresma or Lent Project 2011.

I wanted to deepen the Lent experience for my students, create something fun and simple for them to do, and then follow up with something that could continue for the next 40 days.  As for the high school, we ended up coming up with three things: going to each class to talk about Lent, giving out rubber bands to wear, and signing students up for the Cuaresma Facebook page.

Giving it in Spanish
Before I went to my first class, my plan was to give the whole talk in English.  I was going to write the three words of Lent in Spanish (ayuno, oración, limosna)  on the board, translate them into English (fasting, prayer, almsgiving), correlate other words I wanted them to think about for each word (to sacrifice, to pray, to serve/give time) and then connect all of it to the three different types of Lenten promises they could make with concrete examples (less Facebook, pray nightly, participate in service activities). 

What happen, instead, was when I introduced myself to the first class in Spanish like I always do....I didn´t stop talking in Spanish!  I kept going on writing the words on the board, explaining things, and only Spanish left my mouth.  I would ask them for examples in Spanish, they told me them in Spanish, and I wrote them down in Spanish.  I was completely surprising myself that I was doing all of this seamlessly, ha even the teacher in the classroom commented that she was surprised I was spelling everything correctly.  It was like all my school Spanish and experience Spanish all showed up.  It hit me then---wow Matt, you could teach/explain in Spanish to a class if you had to.  It was the first time ever I had experienced that long of a time period (35 minutes) of straight Spanish in front of a classroom.  I was so proud of myself, especially from where I´ve come from in my Spanish.

Giving away las ligas
In the middle of my charla, or talk, after I had finished writing down all the examples, I would stop and explain that I was here part of a project the entire school is doing.  I would take off the rubber band I was wearing on my right wrist and raise it up for everyone to see. In all of the classes I went to, if anyone had been talking up to that point, no one would be at this moment.  Everyone would be so silent and it was so uncanny and cool to experience.  "Qué es esto?" I would ask, and many would respond "Una liga."  Then in that silence, I would explain  that when they choose their Lenten promises, or their Cuaresma compromisos, they can get a liga, or rubber band, from me, they would be able to wear it for the next 40 days as a reminder, and on it they could write two or three words to remind themselves of what they´re doing specifically.  For example, the three words they could write could be "chismes, confesarse, hermana" which meant for that person, she would sacrifice gossipping, would try to hit up confession during Lent, and that she´ll try to get along with her sister.  

As expected, I got some heat for some of these difficult expectations.  I finally closed my charla asking them who was the most important person in Lent (response: "Jesús") then would ask what was His sacrifice (response: "su vida") and then emphasize that if He could do what He did, we can do this small sacrifice for Him.  That´s why we do this.  I had them take out a sheet of paper and to start coming up with their Lenten promises.  I went around to push them to make their promises as personal and specific as possible.  It was so cool to see what some of my students were giving up, "I´m giving up all of Facebook" "malas palabras (bad words)" "going to spend time with my abuelita (grandmother) on weekends" "I´m going to pray every morning."   I told them that when they were ready, they should find me in my office to get a liga.

Getting the guys and power by numbers
I remember that first day I gave talks, I waited in my office during breaks and lunch for the hoards to come.  And they came.  Two, five, or ten at a time would come and fill my office, asking for my rubber bands, but they were 90% girls.  I was like, oh no.  I´m not about to do this whole project and get only girls.  Actually, part of my motivation behind the whole thing was so I could get guys involved. As we all know, getting guys to think prayer or God or anything is cool is a lot harder.  I figured out that even though some guys may be interested, they´re not going to go out of their way during their break time to get a liga from me.  I changed my strategy.

The next presentation, I quickened it so it left me with 10 minutes left in the period.  Then, I told them that when they were ready, they could get the ligas right there in the class.  Boom.  I noticed when students saw their peers get in the long line at my desk to get a liga, it motivated them to do the project, too.  Even the most skeptical student didn´t want to be left out, and he even came up with something to do for Lent.  Success.

Reflections: a blessing and a curse
For me, to give away these rubber bands wasn´t enough.  I wanted something that could keep me and the students in conversation with each other the entire Lenten season.  So I created a Lent Facebook group, and when students got a liga, I had them add me on Facebook from which later I would add them on the FB group.  My goal was to get all 500+ students on the page, but some of them didn´t have Facebook, some of them ironically gave up Facebook so I couldn´t add them, and some of them (maybe an average of 9 or 10 per class) simply didn´t participate in the project.  I ended up getting a little more than 300 in the group. 

Back at CUA, we had a link on the campus ministry Web site that had a daily reflection written by a student, a different one per day.  I wanted to bring this idea to St. Francis, and I asked students from our youth group to write reflections for the group.  A lot of what they had written, some in Spanish, some in English, were so beautiful, so profound, so thought-provoking and well-written.  I was so impressed and proud to be associated with these fine writers as each day I posted their different reflections on the page.  It was a hit, too, as many students would "Like" what they read from their peers on Facebook.  It was an opportunity to empower students and see the hidden talents they had.  It was one of the true blessings of this whole Lent experience.

The curse was after about a week of getting reflections from students, it became pretty difficult to get reflections from students, especially as the next following week was exams and everone was focused on studying.  I started using reflections from other Web sites, started writing my own, but was trying to ask more and more students to write something, even teachers, but wasn´t getting much success.  I didn´t want to ask the same students to write something because I didn´t want to make it seem I was favoring anyone.  But ended up happening was me writing or finding reflections from an outside source for probably about half of the 40 days.  Were I to do this again (and I plan on it, in whatever school or youth group I end up working at), I´d get these reflections a lot sooner.  It´s a good idea were I executed it better.  Lesson learned.

La Primaria
It took me about a week to go each classroom 7th graders through Seniors in the high school.  What was cool is that the religion teachers in la primaria, or elementary school, had heard about what I was doing, and wanted me to do the same in their classrooms.  I did not expect nor was planning for this.  I met with one of the religion teachers, and she said she wanted to do two class periods (one hour) per class, and she suggested maybe I could play a song on guitar. 

After ordering more rubber bands, I went back to the drawing board.  I thought to myself, "OK, I´m not about to each 4th graders about the word "almsgiving".  So I simplified my presentation and came up with three main words I wanted them to take away: ofrecer, orar y compartir (to offer, to pray, to share).  And during my talk I told them how they can "offer up" different types of sacrifices like chocolates (response: "Nooooo!") they could pray daily, and they could share---their time with a grandparent, or get along with a sibling. 

It was a lot different in la primaria.  First off, they were more enthusiastic, which was pretty cool, but they also had a lot more energy and got off track a lot easier, which I had to adjust accordingly.  They also had a harder time writing on the ligas, especially the first and second graders.  But when we handed out the ligas and they were all working, that silence in the room was simply the best "sound" I´ve experienced in recent memory.  I´d walk around and they´d run up to me, "Vea, Mateo! (Look, Mateo!)" and I´d affirm them, encouraging them that they did a good job. 

Cuaresma Canción
I remember being in my room thinking of a song I could play when I decided, "I´m going to write one."  I used the music of a song I really liked from a retreat I recently went to, and I wrote away, using pieces of my talk, especially the three main words "ofrecer, orar and compartir" as my main emphasis of the song for reinforcement.  Also, I knew from my experience with kids (thank you Mom and Sto. Niño), that choreography to get them more involved would be better.  So at the chorus "podemos ofrecer" (we can offer up), "podemos orar más" (we can pray more), "podemos compartir" (we can share) "con amigos y los demás" (with friends and others) I had them lift up their hands for offering, put their hands together for praying, hands out for sharing, and hands back and forth like a jig for the last part.  Below is the song I came up with, the song I played at least three times per class, one to teach, twice for repetition, a song I know very well by now.  A song I played for each class from 1st graders through 6th graders.  Here it is:


Cuaresma Canción



Por Mateo Aujero

Durante Cuaresma, necesitamos hacer cosas
para Jesucristo, nuestro Salvador
Durante Cuaresma, necesitamos mejorarnos
por cuarenta días, para nuestro Señor. 

Podemos ofrecer
Podemos orar más
Podemos compartir
Con amigos y los demás

Todo es para Dios
Es difícil, pero si Cristo pudo,
podemos hacerlo.

One day I´ll record this song.  I know I will use it again, maybe next year if I´m ever surrounded by little Hispanic kids.  I remember after two weeks of playing the song, I came to my last class, and played for a last time.  I got pretty nostalgic.  These talks had become repetitive, some better than others, and I was feeling about done with them, but I played that song with all my heart that last time.  

Well, that´s all I have to say about my Lent project.  Unforseen, this project allowed me to step into every single classroom to see every single student in the entire school of St. Francis.  That´s pretty cool.  I think if I´m remembered for anything at St. Francis, this project will be it and will be the biggest footprint I leave.  I´m happy knowing that.  I´m still not done and feel like I have something else up my sleeve before I leave here (two months from now), but I´m happy for what this was for now.  

At least in some small way, I hope I bettered the experience of Lent for each of my students.  That was all I hoped for in the beginning anyway.  

Happy Lent and Happy Easter everyone.  Feliz Cuaresma y Felices Pascuas a todos.

Amén.


Sunday, February 27, 2011

My best weeks in Costa Rica: A letter to Syracuse

[The following post is originally hand-written in a journal entry I wrote in the journal that we send to our FrancisCorps partners in Syracuse.]

---------------------

febrero 2011
Dear ´Cuse,

                It´s Mateo here.  Unlike my planned, thought-out journal entries in the past, I´m just going to write.  As Tim would say, (and what we say often in the house) I´m going to ´´let the formation come.´´
                I´m currently cozied up on the hammock outside, it´s sunny with a slight breeze.  I´m sorry to hear about the below zero temperature there.  However, I may be the unfortunate one at the moment---the sun glare that´s bouncing from the whiteness of shirtless Tom to my left is seriously blinding.  Where are my sunglasses?
                It´s actually kind of refreshing to write by hand.  The other week my computer passed away.  She kind of left with no warning, just one day stopped working.  I tried to get some people to look at her and possibly save her, but it was hopeless.  The day before she died, I happen to back up all my documents on my thumb drive as I occasionally do.  It´s like she knew.  She was good to me.
                On a happier note, let´s talk about work.  To remind you guys on what I do, I plan and participate in service trips for each grade in the school.  Additionally, I run two after-school visits---La Isla where we tutor children on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and Hogar San Francisco where we visit sick elderly on Thursdays.  I love all of it.  This year though, to discern my calling to be a teacher, I´ve asked one English teacher if I could help assist teaching.
                And I gotta say, teaching has been great.  My baby right now is my English conversation classes I have with my 10th graders.  My teacher has let me take full lead with these on Thursdays and Fridays and it´s been pretty invigorating.  For my first class, my teacher asked me to lead a discussion on ´´´Machismo.´´  Little did he know how much I care about the topic.  I got some really good responses from the guys on how they think the two sexes should be equal and good response from some girls too saying how they should not settle and expect the best from men.
                Teaching these past several weeks has ignited something in me.  Last year, the thought of being a teacher crossed my mind, and it was a matter of something that I´ll eventually do in my life.  Now the experience of teaching has made me want to pursue it now, and I am now currently looking for Catholic teaching jobs in the D.C. area.  I´ve got one promising lead so far, so keep me in your prayers as I will keep yáll updated.
                On a related note, these past several  weeks, I feel, have been the best weeks I´ve had so far in my entire time in Costa Rica.  Last fall I was awkward-city working on relationships, my Spanish, all while trying to figure out my role at St. Francis.  Now, things are kind of falling into place, and I´m not sure if I can attribute this sense of peace to just one thing.  Maybe it´s because I know who I am more and who I´m called to be.  All of last fall I was discerning if I should be a priest or not (Mike and I were in timely solidarity as prayer partners) and after my time at home, I´m fully convinced now that I am called to be a father and raise a family.  With that being able to work towards, my New Year´s resolution came from a question, ´´How can I become the best version of myself?´´  I{ve considered this holistically, and since school started, I´ve made my goal to do three things each day: 1.) begin and end each day in prayer, 2.) work out every day (ha, the other day I told Brittany I was working on my chest, tri´s, back and bi´s and she had no idea what I was talking about.) and 3.) I´m going to bed (11 p.m.) and waking up (6 a.m.) at the same time.
                So maybe this sense of peace is coming from this consistency and feeling good, but it could be coming from other things as well.  Maybe it´s coming from my new sense of role and purpse at the school.  I look sharp now wearing shirt and tie everyday, and I love it when the students call me ´´profe.´´  Maybe it´s because I figured out what I´m suppose to be doing next year.  And maybe it could be one last thing.
                The other week was Valentine´s Day, a day for many years I´ve shared with a girlfriend.  That whole day I was trying to figure out who my ´´Valentine´´ was.  Obvious answers that came to mind were Jell, Tom, Britt, and Jordan or could it be my family at home or my students or my bros at the states or even the Mike Lamanna.  I wasn´t sure.  At the end of the night before bed, I picked up my guitar.  As a musican, sometimes songs just come, the formation comes, and you let your hands play something familiar.  The song that came was called ´´Your Love is Extravagant´´---one of my all-time favorites.  It´s a song about having an intimate love and friendship with God.  I played it over and over again, singing with full heart, eyes closed.  When I finished, I said something out loud for I think the first time ever in my recent memory.  I said, ´´I love you, God.´´

----

Sigh.  I´m lucky.  We´re lucky.  He´s got us.  Thanks for reading and talk to you soon!

Love, Paz y Bien,

Mateo


Sunday, January 30, 2011

Hostel





Camille and Pascual at Kon-Tiki!
During our trips in January, my housemates and I stayed in a variety of hostels.  They were all different and the same at the same time.  One of our rooms, in Playa Negra in Guanacaste, was legit in a tree house.  Our room was in top of three flights of wooden stairs outside.  The hostel was ran by a young French couple, Camille and Pascual, who cooked delicious food for us every day.  Of course I was in the kitchen sometimes finding out their secrets and how they prepared this and that.  The hostel we stayed at in Playa Tamarindo had beach access at the back of it.  Not bad for $14 a night.  

Just a portion of our 26-bed room
The one that takes the cake for me in terms of unique experiences was the one we stayed at in Manuel Antonio. In the room we stayed in had 26 beds in it.  Yeah, that's right, count it twenty-six.  13 bunk beds of strangers from all over the world.  Let's just say we got to know each other real fast.  I ended up meeting a lot of people, people I ended up having a drink with later or even dancing with, but there were a few who were notable and became as close as one night would allow.  There were the siblings Craig and Casey from Idaho, Justin the Samaritan from California, Megan and Jessica the University of Illinois who helped me find that tree house hostel in Playa Negra, and of course, can't forget the really cute girls, Caro and Carolyn from Germany.  One of them had been living in San Jose like us, and asked me if I wanted to go to Nicaragua with her the next weekend because she was going to go alone.  In my head I was thinking, "You are so pretty, yes, I would go in a second," but I ended up saying, "Shoot, I wish, but we already have plans."  And we did, that was the weekend Bro. Jim was coming over.  

I loved every bit of that hostel experience, mainly because I love getting to meet new people.  We stayed there for two nights, and it's funny how you feel a little sad to see someone leave the next day or having to leave your new friends behind when you go.  To me the experience was the epitome of what we do in life:

People come into our lives, we get to know them, we get attached to them for the short (or long) period of time you have with them, and then they go.  Now maybe I'm being a bit dramatic, and I'm not ruling out that I'll never see them again (though highly improbable) nor do I rule out that I'll never contact them again (thank you Facebook, e-mail, and the telephone) but if I think about it, how many people do I plan to consistently stay in touch with for the rest of my life?  It's a short list.

The whole experience made me think about something, well, maybe someone, now that I've been here for in Costa Rica for four months.  Last semester, almost every Thursday I've started to visit this old folk's home called Hogar San Francisco with my students.  There I've started to become good friends with this blind woman named Flori.  For about an hour every Thursday (or less than that if I bring my guitar to play for everyone else) I ask about her life as she asks about mine.  It came to the point that she would look forward to see me, and if I missed a Thursday, my students would tell me that she would would ask for me, even cry.  The last time I saw her before I left the for the states for Christmas, she told me, "Te quiero Mateo, no va" (I love you, Mateo, don't go.)  

Every time I go it kind of breaks my heart.  God, this is sick.  Why am I doing this to her?  Have her become close to me (and I her) to only know that I'm going to leave in four months. (June 29th to be exact, looking at the calendar the other day...).  Why do I do this?

I proposed this question to my housemates the other night for prayer.  I asked them why do we make relationships in our lives, especially ones that we can't promise to keep, ones like those we're making here in Costa Rica, to only know that we'll have to leave this place one day.  They felt in solidarity with me, and the best that we came up with was that at the end of the day we're suppose to be here, and we should keep making and building our friendships and not be afraid of the end.

The other day, I ran into my favorite gate-keeper at the school Jose, who's the jolliest man I've ever met in my entire life.  As I pass him every school day, sometimes I linger after school and have had many conversations with him.  By now, he's let me in on his life, letting me know how he has two kids, how his wife died, how he never went to school past second grade, but he prays every day and thanks God for giving him what he has.  A couple days ago, in mid conversation, he told me that he's worked there at the school for six years.  He told me that sees many people come and go through his gate, but he knows very little of them.  He said that I've been here less than a year, and he's happy that he knows me, and that he has a a good friend in me.

Maybe I can learn something from that jolly big guy.  People come and go in his life, but he's just happy for the ones who stop and be with him for just a little longer.  Whether I just met someone for a night in a hostel, or hung out for four years of college, or a week at a retreat, or less than in a year in a country I probably can't come back to very often, I hope I have the same outlook as my friend Jose, too.

Amén. 



Sunday, January 16, 2011

Letter to myself: pre-Costa Rica

The following is a letter I wrote to myself during orientation with FrancisCorps.  Bro. Jim gave it to us tonight during the first part of our reorientation retreat together.  It was while we were still in the states and I hadn't touched Costa Rica soil yet:

Friday, Aug. 27, 2010
[On the porch of the Jersey Shore House]

Dear Matt,

There are too many things to say, so many blog entries have escaped you, and probably won't ever get written down, but this is your chance for awhile.

Probably your biggest take-away so far is the concept of letting go, and let things happen naturally by letting God work through our lives.  Tim's words were right on: it's no longer about my desires God, but Your desires.  So much more easier said than done, and scary to do.  But it's the answer.  For me it means letting go of Mimi, and especially "the plan."  Don't let "the plan" and your desire to be a father and have a family influence you.  Let it be, and don't force anything.  Try everything.  Be open, especially to the scary.  Remember, it's what God wants, right?  And you can't fail doing his work.

Right now you're biggest fear is not being able to talk and understand the Spanish when I get down there.  I do feel like a weak speaker compared to everyone else here.  But remember Liz's words: "smile, and don't be afraid to look like a (fool)."  Pray for patience and humility, remember?

At this point, I feel very much like a comfortable person and who I want to be.  People think I'm funny, and I'm not hiding anything.  I'm just being me and letting them accept me.  It's amazing, Matt.  You are loved.  Continue to stay true to who you are.

Your boy,
Matt

--------

It's funny, five months later, these are all things I'm addressing now, but now in much different lights.  Letting go of the plan has taken me all four months of last semester until I finally did with seeing Mimi back at CUA during break.  We let go of each other once and for all and aren't talking anymore, letting go of "the plan", and it's refreshing that I've gotten to relieve myself of that sadness and burdening expectation of myself.

As for the Spanish fear, it took time and confidence growing to relieve a lot of that.  Going back home has given me a boost and confidence I needed to come back and I'm ready more than ever.  I'm even coming back wearing shirt and ties so I have the look good, feel good mentality.  I can't wait to see my students with my new found confidence once again.

Be true to who I am.  I talked to a priest friend of mine over break and he told me, "At the end of the day, you have to admit, 'This is who I am.'"  Being back home has reminded me who I am.  I am a family father and young man at heart, and I believe in solidarity and sharing our struggles and joys with each other.  As I talked to Fr. Mike, I felt the strong urge and reminder that I'm just called to walk through life and share the follies, fun, and faith of it all.  I'm called to be me.  I'm called to be Mateo  I'm called to be Matt Aujero.

I'm called to be Catholic, Filipino, and well, ridiculous.

Amén.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

33-Day Total Consecration and Our Lady of Guadalupe

Our Lady of Guadalupe
(Pretty, ain't she?)
This past Sunday was the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.  It was also the end of a 33-day prayer journey called Total Consecration to Jesus through Mary by St. Louis de Montfort.  My housemates and several students and I said our final prayers at the end of Mass to end our Consecration together after a long yet fruitful 33 days.    


The following is my attempt to capture the highlighted moments.  


Signs and the answer to my prayers
After two months in at St. Franics, I wanted to do something with my kids now that (many of them) think I’m cool.  My prayer was, "OK, God, I think they like me.  But it's not enough for me to be liked, I want to use it for You.  But what?  How?  What can I do?" After praying this for weeks asking God what I could do, a good friend of mine reminded me about the Consecration that I had done these past two years.  The timing was impeccable.  I knew it was God’s answer to me.  This could be one way---I could pray the Consecration and invite them to do it with me.


26 strong
I wanted to invite the entire school, but I didn't have time, so I just asked two or three students I knew really well to pray it with me. I told them about the Consecration and how it's a way to pray to Mary to get closer to Jesus, and how it's 33 days because 33 is a sacred number (number of years Jesus lived) and at the end of it is the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.  Well, word got around and one of my students told me it'd be a good idea to ask three classrooms I knew best: the Novenos.  I took him up on it.

However, during the two days I was inviting people, I was starting to get huge doubts.  I was getting voices from the Wrong Guy Downstairs saying, "You're asking too much from your students," "They'll never follow through, you're wasting your time," "You picked the wrong thing for them to do for a first request."  Then that day I went to lunch, and I opened the Bible to a random page.  This almost never works for me, but that day I turned to a story about Jesus walking on the beach asking some fishermen to follow Him.  It was a sign. Jesus had faith in these guys, I should have faith in my kids and what I'm doing.  "Bet on yourself," as Liz would say.

17 ended up joining by the time it started.  What?  I remember going to the copy room more times than I expected so everyone could have one.  Add my four housemates, Jenny my boss, Nader my friar friend, Tim all the way in Syracuse, and Bobby my boy in D.C. and that was 26. What?  I think my favorite number of all of this is 8: the number of male students (pretty much half) that wanted to join, four of whom who came at the last minute before my work ended that day.  For anyone who knows me well, this means the world to me.The thing is about guys, I think it's tougher to make anything God/prayer-related seem cool. So when 4 of the 8  showed up at my office door, it's like four individual celebrations for me.   When they left, I immediately went to the chapel, got on my knees, and thanked God.  I also told Him that I could die now, too.  He responded, "And now the battle begins..."


Cami, Mariela, Jose, Howie, Pao, Me, Britt, Jell, Jordan (Tom and Karla missing)
Our Lady of Guadalupe, Guadalupe
Dec. 12, 2010 -After 33 days of Consecration
Second Week=Rosary
After a fruitful 12-day prep and First Week of prayers, we were half way there, but I was starting to lose steam.  I missed my first day.  The next day came the Second Week, which involved the longest set of prayers including a rosary on top of it---at least 45 minutes of prayer time total.  It was the first momentI just straight up didn't want to do it.  Tom, my housemate, happened to be online, and I told myself, "All right, God, I'll ask if Tom wants to do it with me, but if no answer, I'm not doing it."  (P.S. Isn't it weird how we make these weird deals with God?  For me, in my mind, I feel like I have to at least  try something small before I entirely gave up.  He almost always responds. How annoying.)  But Tom was up for it, he saved me, because I didn't want to pray.  We did the first rosary night tonight brother to brother.

The second day I still didn't want to pray, and after work, I heard some music playing from one of the music rooms.  It was some of my students and I sat and watched them sing/play. After their rehearsal, we walked towards the gates, and one of them mentioned, "Mateo, do you want to do the prayer with us?"  That day, Jose, Howie, Mariela, and I sat in a circle in the chapel and prayed the Consecration and rosary together.  The next day was La Isla and they asked if we could meet beforehand and pray again.  What?

Later that week, I went on a camping trip with my housemates and senior students.  Each night after dinner for four nights, my housemates and I would get away either in a vacant room or our tent and prayed.  I may have been the initiator of prayer, but I owe them.  I may not have prayed were they were not there with me.

Looking to Mary...
Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe
I thought it was ridiculously cool that we were ending our Consecration together on the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe in a church called Our Lady of Guadalupe in a town called Guadalupe with the priest presiding happening to be the school president.  What?  Of the 25 who started, 11 of us finished, and definitely not perfectly and maybe not entirely. But numbers and who finished isn't important, what was important is what each of us made it to be.  And maybe it may have sparked a prayer habit we may not have had before.  Whatever it is, I hope something was good for everyone who tried something different.

Here's what it means to me:

First, I'm passionate about a lot of things. Playing music, writing, dancing (baller bolero moves), and eating all being at the top.  Praying is up there, too.  They're all things I'm not the best at (well, maybe eating...), but they're the things I care the most and try the most at.  I just feel like praying is a sixth love language for me.  There are people who you hang out with, play sports with, work with, go to school with, even live with.  But then there's people you can personally pray with.  It's a tighter, smaller circle of friends and loved ones.  And that prayer that you share together, for me, that is probably one of the most special things you can share with someone.  So I guess I want to say Thank-You for those few students and my housemates who I got to personally share prayer with.  Who invited me into their prayer lives.  I couldn't have followed through without you.

...to find Jesus.
Second, writing this post is a reminder for me that I have to find things in my life that I'm passionate about doing.  I remember that night I was reminded about the Consecration, I got so worked up and excited about getting my students to do it with me, too.  I couldn't sleep, I was so excited.  That kind of emotion isn't the first time that's happened for me, and I'm sure it won't be the last.  I've been spending a lot of time these past several months thinking about what I'm going to do post-FrancisCorps, and potentially the next four or five years.  This post reminds me that I need to follow what gets me going, what gets me caught up in role I love, wrapped up in an adventure worth striving for.  I hope and pray I find what that is when the time comes.

Amén.