First of all, shout out to my friend Travis Ray Petersheim. As of December 23 (more or less) is engaged to Allison May Stafford (May is a guess).

As the first decade of the new millennium draws to a close I feel like I need to make some sort of covenant, some sort of pact to make these a great ten years, better myself. I know it comes down to me to make the decision, but I'd appreciate suggestions, comments, ideas, whatever you feel led to do. I'd like to make this an interactive blog, and maybe this is one way to do that.

Some thoughts on my Paraguayan christmas:

I felt awkward at times (normal, don't worry), I felt strangely comfortable in other times. I suppose this represents my comfort level with the culture as well as my extended family. It was more comfort than awkward, which is surprised me, because my family/extended family speaks German. With this its easy for me to feel left out, but the fact that I didn't most of the time speaks to how my family worked to include me.

I think the German Mennonite Christmas is closer to an American Christmas than a Latin American Christmas. For example, Christmas trees aren't that common here, but we for sure had one. It was a must.

I got my first December sunburn. Translation: it's very hot here. Right now it's raining, but it gets up above 100 degrees with alarming frequency and consistency. It's supposed to stay like this all of January, drop off a little in February and March, and then April it gets cooler (or más purete... bad joke. sorry. cuz it means cool in Paraguayan spanish. But cool like James Dean cool).

For Christmas I received a thermos and guampa to go any which way in Paraguay with tereré. This is a big get. Here is what it looks like.

Little ostentatious, but I like it loud... this also helps people sound out Penner correctly... double win.

If you keep tabs on my Facebook profile, you might already know this, but my parents (bless their hearts) sent me a Christmas package. Unfortunately, it is currently in South Africa. Or in transit. Hopefully on its way. Apparently the clerk saw Paraguay, South A. and thought South Africa. In the future, to lower confusion, maybe the best thing to do is fully spell out South America. So if you're thinking of sending me anything (I mean, it might've crossed your mind...) it would go something like this:

Anton Harder
(Para Daniel Penner)
cdc 166, Asunción
Paraguay, South America

I gave away Julian (toy dinosaur that I made in the field museum of Chicago) to my 3 year old host brother. As of 9:37 yesterday morning Julian is decapitated. We are waiting on the super glue.

I definitely appreciate all those who have thought about me and prayed for me these past 3 months. I'm having a really positive experience, but its not always easy. Thanks for supporting me.

Daniel

Greetings and Salutations.

The time is flying and its weird to think about things about how things are progressing outside what is now my bubble of life which is Asunción.

My bro Lucas had his 1st grade promotion on Wednesday. (They end the school year in November and they'll start back up in February) It was an event. Music, awards, costumes, lights, three lions and lots of food. It was a different in a lot of ways, but it brought back a lot of memories. The excited buzz during the presenting of awards, the restlessness of students ready for the liberation that comes with summer. As I left I heard a girl say, "por fin, somos libre!" ("finally, we're free!") as they scampered across the wet grass for food and drink. It made me happy.

Yesterday, Decisiones had it's end of the year party at La Parque de la Familia (The Family Park... yeah, I think it sounds cooler in Spanish too) that lasted all day. They know how to party. But it was full of lots of exciting stuff like asado, futbol, swimming, volleyball, ice cream, presents. I got this neat leather-bound daily planner that makes me look a lot more professional. Mainly it was great to just hang out with my co-workers outside the work setting. We have fun at work, joke around, make coffee, go to Burger King for lunch (ok, that was just once. and it was weird. I could probably write a whole blog entry about that.). But yeah, it was definitely different outside the work setting, with everyone's families, and everyone in the mood to party. And I got pushed into the pool. Fully clothed. Maybe it was some sort of initiation. Romina... shoot. Everyone that I work with is a lot of fun. I'm blessed by this.

I bought a map of Asunción the other day. This was a big get for me. I've done some exploring, but it kinda feels like my daily activities keep me in a small part of the city. So let this be a warning to Asunción, here I come this weekend.

Oh, No Shave November Fail.  I guess I didn't shave, so success.  But this and only this is the fruit of 30 days.

Here is my backyard. It is also where I sleep.                 No, that's just my fort.

This is where I work

 

And this is me, full of Christmas Spirit

I hope this gives you a picture, pun unintended... really, of what my life looks like.  And this way you don't have to click on another link.

dp

Hey stranger.

It's been a while since I've written, but that doesn't mean I've forgotten about you. I'm just busy.

Things are going well here in Paraguay. Things are settling into a routine, which is nice, but I like the unexpected too. I guess you have to grow when you're not comfortable. Today is hot, but Gabriel tells me it's gonna rain this afternoon. I don't believe it, but Gabriel knows a lot about everything so I didn't contradict him. We'll see.

Work's been a little slow. All the people I work with are awesome, just lots of fun, but the past week and a half has consisted of putting questionnaire after questionnaire in Excel. Kinda lame, but it keeps me busy. I guess while I do stuff like this I have to get fulfillment out of my relationships with co-workers and soaking myself up in the culture. After today I should have a change of job description (I think this will happen with regularity... vamos a ver) which is much anticipated. I am also going to be working with MEDA some, for about a month, maybe in January. I'm excited about this.

Yesterday was busy. After work I successfully managed break my key off in the gate in front of our house... I could explain exactly how it happened but it would take several pages, various graphs and... its not worth it. But then I ran to the grocery store (literally. I jog occassionally. But then I get red in the face, and then my grandma warns me about the dangers of heat stroke. I try to explain my face gets red easy, its just my complexion, but it only ends with me solemnly promising to never run in the heat of the Paraguay sun) to get Chocolate chips to make cookies. Then I mowed the lawn and made a couple batches of cookies. My host dad exclaimed, "wow! A Chef and a gardener." Yeah, you know me, just a regualar 'ol rennaissance man. But it was good to show my appreciation to my family through chores and baked goods.

Oh, here are a couple pics of Paraguay. I could put them here... but why not visit my Flickr page?! Disfrute. that's imperative.

A day in the life of...

So, I’m writing this blog Tuesday night I’m slowly making my way through my extensive rap collection (If you’re not sure, that was slight sarcasm). I just finished It’s Tricky by Run DMC and now 2Pac’s talking about Changes. You just get in those moods sometimes. Yeah…

My workdays have been good. These two weeks I go from school to school spreading the news about the program Sin Excusas by Decisiones (the place I work). In general terms it’s a program to teach teachers, its ultimate goal being to improve the character of kids, steering them away from alcohol, drugs and premarital sex, among other things. Let me break down my by taking you through how today (a typical day) went. Note: times are estimates.

6:54 a.m. I walk the two seemingly insurmountable blocks to work and press the doorbell. I wait a minute or two. Surprising cuz Sergio (secretary/anything else you need) is normally there to greet me. No Sergio today. Laura says hi (but in Spanish. don’t worry, I’ll translate when I can).

7:14 a.m. We prepare the fliers and invitations for the principals of all the different schools. Gabriel (fellow delivery, I won’t say boy, he’s very much a man, a former security guard/former/current (not sure which) boxer, but it’d probably take 3 me for it to be a fair fight) makes a comment how I’m like a maturing apple with my green polo. I’m confused. Things are slowly explained.

7:32 a.m. Fernando and I roll out in our sweet ’96 Toyota Camry. We say a prayer. He likes to make me pray in Spanish. I do, but poorly. I imagine God can fix my poor conjugation. (Yeah, praying in another language. That’s an interesting dynamic).

10:13 a.m. We visit our sixth school for the day. The directora is very excited to have us. She calls an emergency staff meeting so we can present directly to the teachers. Fernando tells me I can talk to them while he waits in the car. I politely decline.

11:29 a.m. We head to a local joint in Luque, a city just outside of Asuncion. I have my usual: ¼ chicken, yucca, salad and 350 mL of Coca-Cola. Delicious.

12:47 Fernando tells me that I’m going to present the program to the principal. I do, awkwardly stumbling through several of the key points before both the principal and I give a pleading looks to Fernando. He obliges.

1:19 We drink terere. This happens a lot. If you’re not familiar, you should get familiar. Link.

2:17 Some kid calls me rubio. This also happens a lot. It means blondie.

3:15 Fernando says, “let’s go, ho!” (in English, he likes to use a few words here and there) I laugh, and then ask him if he knows what he just said. He thinks ho is just a nonsense word or something that Santa Claus says (“you know,” he says, “like Santa Claus, Ho, Ho, Ho). I tell him otherwise. We head back to Decisiones.

3:35 We get back, and head home for the day. This is a bit earlier than normal but it we got to plenty of schools today, so it’s all good.

In other news, I’m pressing through my reading material, and I’m ready for more. I’ve read just about all that I’ve brought. Right now the only fresh meat on my bookshelf is the Politics of Jesus, and after slogging through the first chapter I remember I’m not a fan of John Howard Yoder’s sentence structure. Not good nighttime reading.

I’m having questions about my impact here too, I guess. What does me being here do for the people I come in contact with? Well, not lots. But that might change, and maybe I have made some sort of difference, I can’t answer with any sort of clear answer. I could meander more but this is so very public and I don’t think all of you are as quite as attentive as my mother would be. Good night.

dp

Dear reader,

It's been awhile. I hope you are all doing well wherever your are whether it be Indiana or Iowa, Kansas or Canberra. I've been doing well. I'm getting ready to hear to our last day of orientation, leaving the comfort of not really being expected to do much and entering the excitement of a new job.

So my little bro Marcos (2 1/2 yrs old) is pretty ridiculous. He likes breaking into my room and hiding in my closet, terrorizing the family turtles or blazing around the house pushing his cars trying to run into me. Last night after his bath he broke into the fridge (naked, of course), grabbed the Nutella (ok, its not really Nutella. but its chocolate you can spread), grabbed a spoon and looked for a spot to sit (still naked). After deciding none of the chairs in the house would suffice, he took his 2 1/2 year old naked self and awkwardly crawled to the top of the table. He proceeded to sit cross-legged and swallow three large spoonfuls of Nutellaish before being scolded by mother and being sat in a more appropriate place. I really think he's going to do great things with his life.

Fun things are happening and I'm meeting lots of cool people.

More coming soon...
Daniel

Another post.

Hello again. Things are relaxed. Work hasn’t been started, but we continue with our methodical 3 times a week lessons. Every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. Monday we went to Laura’s house for lunch. Laura’s our teacher and I found out that day not only does she teach but she has an amazing family. And this cool old mauve Fiat that looks like it might be a Volkswagen Beetle but is really so much cooler. But her family’s great. I felt definitely and definitively welcomed walking past the curtains and into the kitchen where our feast was being prepared. A sister, mom and random neighbor girl (Moni, who enjoyed corrected my Spanish, dominated Naomi at whatever game they played, and practiced Kung Fu) greeted me and offered me something to drink, the bathroom, or a hammock (which is a verb in Spanish. to hammock. all right.). But their attitude with which they gave this genuine hospitality was memorable. They made me feel special and important.

After our morning lesson, terere and feast we watched Kung Fu Panda. Great Movie. Man, I don’t remember the last movie that made me giggle quite like that. It was good to sit back and watch a movie like that, because, well, the last movie I saw was Scarface and that’s no Kung Fu Panda. Yeah, Scarface isn’t the chuckle every other line kind of movie. At least it wasn’t for me and I hope it wasn’t for you.

It was hot too. 40 degrees celsius. I’ll let you do the math. Old Spice kind of failed me on my 20 minute walk home.

I’m enjoying it here. I haven’t settled into a definite role, because I’m not working at my job yet. I think this is where I’m supposed to be, but its hard to say, because so much of this first month has been structured to help us get comfortable, but right now it feels like its just delaying that process. My expectations weren’t the reality, which I was told was going to happen, but I somehow didn’t believe. Silly me. But I’m excited. Excited for this year. And ready to start working.

I'm here.

It’s been a week since I first landed on Paraguay soil, and it has been enjoyable. The people have been friendly and the schedule was kind enough to make so we arrived on the first day of spring (though yesterday was incredibly cold). I guess like anything incredibly new, it has come with a few surprises. The neatly-packaged two sentence description of what I’d be doing for the better part of a year was not in fact correct. I will not be working with MEDA Paraguay for the coming year.

I'm gonna be working with Desiciones a sex ed program. It took me a little bit to recover from this blow, as my mind was set on helping out with MEDA, I was very excited to work with economic development. Even for someone who adjusts to changes of plans well, this was a change that made me step back and say what? I reacted very negatively in my head, but I continued to listen. I needed to figure out what I was doing there. They told me that I’d be working with databases of high school students, maybe some photography and design work for their magazine as well as possibly updating the website. And this has helped me cope with the change. It’s not stuff I was trained to do, but I think I have enough of a base to learn as I go along. It’s work that will make me feel good and challenge me (I hope).

But yeah, the past week and a half has been overall enjoyable, meeting people, trying to communicate, sometimes succeeding, other times failing miserably, but I’m ready for this year here away from the comfort of my home and language.

Oh, and the other night I got lost. But its ok, because I only was lost for an hour and it wasn’t that dark when my host dad found me (curled up by the side of the road sucking my thumb). When you have general directions like go past the skinny park, turn right where there is a tall house, and you lose the telephone number of your destination and lack the address… It’s hard to get places. My family made me memorize our address and home phone number before I left the house the next morning.

Sometimes when I feel down I have one of those Dove Chocolates with the inspirational sort of quotes on them. They say cool things like, “Buy flowers for yourself today.” I did not do that, but the thought of maybe having flowers put a smile on my face.

So here’s the first post, I don’t know if I was very informative or descriptive, if you want more information e-mail me or comment saying “tell me more!” or something like that.

Daniel H. P.

Soup Kitchens, Mormons and Obama

So, today we volunteered in a soup kitchen. I suppose the action I thirsted for yesterday was to be quenched. I’d never worked in a soup kitchen, but I had this preconceived idea of what it might be, and it kind of met those expectations. I guess its fairly straightforward: there’s people making the food, food and people that need the food. But maybe that makes everything way too basic. I tried going in with a mindset of that I would at Subway, they were customers and I wasn’t doing anything noble by serving them.

After arriving at the soup kitchen a half an hour early, the six of us killed time by checking out the coffee shop The Hidden Pearl (apparently it was hidden for a reason… the girls said the coffee really wasn’t great). We then sat outside the Kenwood Soup Kitchen for about 20 minutes while we waited for the other volunteers to show up. The door was then unlocked and they proceeded to lead us to a room where we were told to wait for further instructions. So much for doing away with inaction… After waiting in the empty room for about 30 minutes we were given two large pans of peppers to slice and dice.

We talked and sliced, sliced and talked and then a couple of Mormons showed up, smartly dressed with their white shirts and striped ties. I just remember the one’s name (Jeffrey, he let it slip) because they introduced themselves by their last names (apparently they all go by the first name Elder while their doing there missionary work… who knew). They sliced eggplant, while we continued chopping are peppers. Then two more showed up. We cut some more. And then another showed up. We finished up chopping, and then the eleven of us moved to the kitchen/dining hall to help serve.

That was awkward. The Mormons kind of knew what they were doing, but we were very much the rookies, and stood around creating traffic jams at key intersections and asked continuously, “what can I do?” I kind of wondered how much help I was being. The Mormons reassured us saying, “lots of waiting for things to do goes on” and at that very moment I was terrified. Would I be waiting for things to do for the next ten months? What if I can’t find a purpose, I just am there in Paraguay, and no one has a use for me? That’s probably my biggest fear.

After suffering this minor panic attack from trying to glimpse in the future, I calmed my self by serving beans and potatoes. After all of the people had gone through I had my turn at the spread in front of me: green beans, potatoes, salad, cornbread, cake, and a delicious tomato corn sort of soup. It was a feast. Probably in the top 10 best meals I’ve had in Chicago… maybe top 5, I dunno. I had a nice talk with a guy named Patrick who apparently sold sandwiches when he wasn’t here eating at the Kenwood Soup Kitchen among various other facts ranging from how Iowa’s a great place to go to college and how he’s never going back to Minnesota. I guess what I’m trying to get at it is when I felt like I wasn’t having an impact, I just sat down and talked with someone. That made my time worthwhile. So, in Paraguay, if there’s nothing else for me to do, I suppose I can just sit down and try and relate.

FACT. Obama’s house was about 4 blocks from the soup kitchen. No, I didn’t go. Apparently there are quite a few cops and the house is hard to see. At least that’s what Jeffrey the Mormon tells us.

Estoy listo.

 Monday, September 14th.

It's less than a week now before I leave for Paraguay and my thoughts flip between excitement for all the things to come and the apprehension of exiting a comfort zone for the better part of a year.  I'm struggling with the inaction which sometimes I feel orientation, but the "inaction" was valuable (right?).  Readying my mind, giving me knowledge and enabling me to be the best I possibly can.  But I suppose I have no way of measuring the value of this time.  I know it helped... I just don't know how much.  I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm ready to go.  Say the goodbyes, board my plane and go.

cross-cultural

Sunday the 13th.

I appreciated the cross-cultural weekend in Goshen.  I say this not because of the “hippie mentality” that people associate this campus with, but rather in comparison with my heavily tattooed, anything-pierced friends at Jesus People USA (the place I’m currently staying) the Goshen campus had the distinct air of conservatism.  This wasn’t the same feel I had gotten in previous visits when the norm was shaped by the Hesston College standard.  I suppose this shows how perspectives change when one is in a new environment (like a new country…) for a while, how familiar things become weird and the weird seems normal.

Hospitality.

We were given an assignment this morning.  Go and be hospitable.  We weren't given any sort of extra instructions, but simply that, go and be hospitable.  So I thought about it.  Hospitality has to do with treating guests or strangers warmly.  And I was in Chicago, where there are about 2.8 million strangers (minus the 100 some odd people I've met so far) so advantage me.  I didn't really have a place to host, so I decided to create one.

I took two armchairs from our flat, awkwardly toted them (with the help of Tim Wenger, he's quite helpful) about a half a block in front of a somewhat busy intersection and set them up facing the street.  I then placed a sign that simply said, "wanna talk?" on the chair opposite of me and waited.  I wasn't really sure what to expect, the idea was really in the moment, and I decided to run with it.

I felt kind of foolish, and after ten minutes all I thought that would result was awkward stares and a sunburnt nose (the only shade I had was courtesy of a year old tree that didn't have the most impressive set of leaves).  People weren't really rude... they just weren't quite sure what was going on.  After these painfully slow minutes I had what I thought was my first customers.  Unfortunately, Johan and Mary Jane (I really couldn't make these names up) were taking their dogs on a walk, but told me they really wanted to talk with me and they'd be back in an hour.  I nodded, smiled and said I'd be here.

Seconds after they left, a middle aged Panamanian woman wearing some sort pirate-looking bandana and large hoop earrings sat down, thoroughly fascinated that someone was here to just talk.  It quickly turned into an evangelism session of sorts and it was my soul that needed saving.  It was a religion of Japanese origins and centered in large part on cause and effect and karma and sounded very exotic... I think it started with an n.  She asked me about my faith and what I was doing here, and I clumsily did my best to explain Mennonites (she was well versed with Christianity) and how I was going to Paraguay and she was quite patient and receptive through all of this.  I sensed that she wanted to talk more and so I opened the door for her to speak and she continued to tell me about her belief system.  This all went down in about 45 minutes.

After Miriam left, I pulled out my required reading, Foreign to Familiar, and squinted through about 5 pages before I decided to surrender my battle with the sun.  I looked around.  People now seemed more receptive to the pale twenty year old with braces sitting on the corner of Hazel and Wilson.  I got some smiles, a few waves and even an enthusiastic thumbs up from a passing car.  I felt good.

Then Hutch showed up.  He was 53 wanted to talk about Revelation.  At least that's what he told me.  Hutch was homeless, and after exchanging a few words about the last book of Bible, he started telling me about his life in short responses... he needed some prodding.  But I'm pretty sure he wanted to talk, I mean he sat down.  I found out he had lived in Chicago his whole life and played multiple positions in football in high school (left end, center and leftfield.  I think the last one was a joke.) and his favorite book was a biography of Hellen Keller.  But Hutch left as quickly as Miriam showed up.   He told me he needed a phone to call his uncle.  I asked him where his uncle lived.  He said about a block that way.  I said why don't you just visit him?  And then he sat up and left.

After Hutch had gone, I was kind of sweating, the sun was starting to crisp my face and I had a slushee appointment with James in 10 minutes... I called it an afternoon.

I think I learned a few things through this exercise on hospitality. 

One, people genuinely want to talk.  They want to express their opinions, they want others to agree with them and a lot of times they just need to be listened too.  I do.  Second, you have to be intentional about listening, especially when you don't agree with someone.  It wasn't easy sitting through Miriam talking for 45 minutes about her religion.  I appreciated what she had to say, but it was work hearing about the intricacies of her beliefs.  There were moments when Hutch and I just kind of stared at each other.  That was fine.  It was kinda awkward then, but I'm still here.

Finally, people appreciate when you make the effort for hospitality... or whatever it is I did this afternoon.  People seemed to think it was a good idea, with the approving smiles as well as the verbal affirmation I got from Johan and Miriam.  Its important to welcome them whoever they are.  I suppose they'll appreciate when you try.  I think this is how I need to approach things in Paraguay... with a level of caring and effort.  I don't know what my action's today led to, but I think it reinforced some important beliefs.

Daniel

Fun!

Well, Rachel (co-participant) said I should blog about having fun because that's what she did, so here goes.  I probably won't do as good of job as her, because, well, she's always having fun.  To those who don't have the privilege of knowing Rachel, I'm sorry, but those who do will have an appreciation for Rachel and fun.

I would say I'm having fun here.  For the first time in too long that isn't my main goal.  I mean, I want to have fun here, but I'm here to learn.  I'm here to get to know people, understand stuff about God, understand stuff about myself and if I do that I think the fun will follow... and it definitely has, in these two weeks.  At Hesston College (the fine institution I spent the last two years of my life at), it seemed too often the question was how can I enjoy myself the most, rather than how will I grow the most. (don't worry all, I grew lots at Hesston.)

These questions are both important, but the changing of emphasis, hopefully, represents a level up on the spectrum of maturity.  But I was writing about fun, and well, this isn't about fun.

I'm in Chicago, and so naturally there's lots to do.  Festivals, libraries, sports, the Navy Pier, lake Michigan, museums... the prospect of going to the Field Museum has sort of renewed my previously dormant passion for dinosaurs (I don't know who all knew me as a first grader, but I could rattle off a fact or two about Triceratops back then).

But the thing that I'm enjoying the most about Chicago is the characters I meet in Chicago.  I could tell you about Fred who hangs outside JPUSA (Jesus People USA, the place I'm staying, its not a cult), always troubling us for a cup of Kool-Aid (it's really not a cult... Fred drinks it every day).  I could tell you about the White Supremecist, Neo-Nazi who struck up a conversation with a group of four of us about Anabaptists.  I could tell you about the guy (who I unfortunately wasn't able to talk with, just observe from a distance on the Subway), who was the expert on everything, planned on being the president in 2012 and was, with his wife, a master in ballroom dancing as well as tae kwon do.  A true rennaissance man no doubt.

While this is just a brief sampling of some of the extremes in Chicago, I hope it gives you a glimpse of the wide variety of types that live here.  It is another culture. It is fascinating for me to understand how these people operate and what things have shaped them and what there favorite time of day is and all that other stuff (not just the eccentric ones, though they are a treat to talk to).  I think conversation is the key to understanding a culture, not books or simple observation.  They help, but I think relating with people is where you'll discover the most.  All the more reason to keep on practicing the Spanish I suppose...

Well, I suppose I deviated from the attempted topic.  And I rambled.  But if you have any questions about what I said or what I didn't say, feel free to e-mail me at: dhp1020@hotmail.com or if you're more of a pen and paper person this is my mailing address:

Daniel Penner
c/o Visiting Group Coordinator JPUSA
920 W. Wilson
Chicago IL 60640

Thanks for reading.

Daniel.

A taste of the culture to come

8/29. Saturday.

Today we got dropped off by one of our sponsors in a southern part (though we had no idea at the time) of Chicago. And by we I refer to my country group, consisting of four other young adults from all corners of North America, who all are bound for Paraguay (like me) September 20 or thereabouts. And when I say dropped off, it sounds rather pleasant, like we might go for a stroll in the park, or have a picnic, or go see one of Chicago’s famous museums. But rather we were blindfolded and told we needed to find our own way back to our current, month-long place of residence. It sounds rather harsh, and the storyteller inside of me would like to play it up this way, but there were no tense moments. We had a map, we had a cell phone (with key phone numbers) and we had most of the day to meander back to our JPUSA home.

We were left in a Hispanic neighborhood (which was appropriate. Paraguay, right?) and we ended up going to a Hispanic flea market for the first hour or so while we were "lost." I smiled (note: not a figure of speech) with the familiar sights and sounds as it transported me back to the markets in Guatemala. The language that people spoke was strangely comfortable, or at least it gave me a sense of satisfaction that I could pull pieces out of conversation and make sense of them.

After buying a much needed bar of soap at the flea market, we headed south in search of a Mexican restaurant. Success was quickly found five blocks later tucked between a panaderia (bakery) and Jerry’s (Hispanic) Grocery store. Here the waitress spoke only Spanish, so I was given an opportunity to practice my mildly conversational Spanish. The correct order was taken, and only minor hiccups occurred, so I’ll chalk it down for success.

These two experiences left me somewhat sentimental of my summer in Guatemala and filled me with hope for my time in Paraguay. I enjoyed spending my time in this Latin neighborhood in the South Side of Chicago. While the dosage of culture was small, the anticipation for Paraguay was incredible this morning, but slightly smaller now, as time has already somewhat dulled my memories and feelings of this Saturday excursion.

Jesus People USA

8/26
Well, I suppose this is my first true post, or rather the first post inside the lines of the program I’ve chosen to start for the year. I’m pleased with how it has gone and who I’m with. This is Day 4 here at Jesus People USA (JPUSA, pronounced ja-pooh-sa, its really quite fun to say), an intentional Christian community in uptown Chicago. This is where we’re at for our orientation. It’s a little more that simply using their facilities. Each day I’m impressed by the people here and the willingness they have to find out about our group, and the passion they have to so continuously strive to do what they feel God has called them to do the best way they know how. Here’s a link to there website to describe a little bit more about them, because I could try and explain, but I feel its best to let people describe themselves.
Today I sat and ate with Rick and Karen (the head of IT and a teacher, respectively, from subjects ranging from the great Thai place to eat to World of Warcraft (an online game, I suppose you can look it up on Wikipedia if you’re still curious) to how they arrived here at 920 W. Wilson (Jesus People USA) and just exactly why they had chosen an intentional Christian community to live. I find it fascinating to ask people here where they come from and why they are here. It’s such a unique and new way to live. I guess I had heard of people doing this, but to truly understand how it functions I needed to experience it.

ICT to O'Hare, 30,000 feet up.

8/23
As I’m flying to Chicago only now does the reality of one start to set in. It seems like some great length of time but I know in actuality this experience will fly. And as this reality sets in I examine my hopes, apprehensions, but most of all my excitement. I have never done anything like this before. I know I’ll be tempted to compare this to Guatemala, but I know that won’t work. This is new. This is different. This isn’t schooling, at least in the literal sense. I’ll be working at a job (no idea what kind) while at the same time having an idyllic structure and setting to ask and explore questions about my faith, my life and my future.

I’ll arrive soon… meeting people I have never met before, several who I’ll be living in close proximity with for the next year. I hope they’re cool… otherwise it’ll be a longer year. But I’ll remain determined to gain as much information, experience and life lessons out of this year as I can. The opportunity is incredible, now all I have to do is make the most of it.

Site under construction.

Currently my internet access is limited to hour trips to the library or me spending $2 for a cup of coffee to use internet in a trendy cafe.  I have stuff written but it needs to be typed up.  I'll try to correct the lack of content shortly. Hopefully today or tomorrow.

Daniel