Day 130.

Christmas Observations:

Christmas Eve:

- At around noon, I head over to the CFCI office where a team of a dozen or so people were preparing a Christmas Eve dinner for 100+ homeless people in downtown San Jose. Let's just say I got really good at cutting papaya.
- By the time 6:30 came around, we had made a whole ice chest full of arroz con pollo, -- rice with chicken -- two jumbo Gatorade dispenser's worth of fruit salad, and six garbage bags of potato chips. Our team drove into a dark corner of downtown with our humble banquet. I was the only person from the US.
- People were waiting for us before we even arrived. Don Horacio, the Argentinean pastor behind our whole plan, leads a weekly Bible study with his "sheep of the streets" and knows most of them by name. The majority showed up in some sort of intoxicated state -- stinking, swearing, weeping...but by looking at how Don Horacio prayed for, embraced, and served every single one of them, you would think he was in the presence of Jesus himself. And I think he was. We all were.
- At one point, a car pulled up and some of the homeless folks literally bolted to the vehicle, scrambling back with bags of white in their hands. A few policemen were present (something that definitely made me feel a bit more secure), and ran over to see what the commotion was about -- all the while eager hands grasped at the car window. The police didn't do anything though, they just stood by and watched as these drug addicts were obviously receiving whatever it was that fed their addiction. Slowly though, I began to notice what was in the bags...it wasn't crack cocaine. It was sandwiches. And cookies. A Colombian couple had the same idea as us, making food for people that are usually forgotten during the holidays. Lesson: God takes our tragic assumptions about the human race and turns them into miracles.
- After that whole extravaganza, I returned home and had the opportunity to skype with the Holtgeerts side of the fam. Then my Costa Rican family and I devoured a delicious roast beast at midnight (a tradition here that I definitely want to continue with my family in the States).
- My host mom gave me a jar of crunchy peanut butter. She knows me too well.

Christmas Day:
- Christmas morning I opened presents with my family in a-town via skype, which included the annual Christmas production that Luke, Henry, and I put on for my parents. Henry played a song on the piano, Luke played some tunes on his tuba, and I plucked my ukulele for a bit. We also recited Emma Lazarus's "A New Collosus" together. Okay, actually Luke and I recited it...Henry performed an interpretive dance to our recitation.
- Later that day I went over to Melisa's mom's house and enjoyed another Christmas feast, eating the BEST lasagna I have ever consumed in my entire life. We also watched "John Tucker Must Die" dubbed in Spanish (I'm actually getting much better at that!).
- While hanging out with Melisa, we had a great discussion about Mormons. Her theory? "Why do all the missionaries that they send out have to be tan guapos?! Sooo handsome? I mean come on -- that's just cheating!"

The 26th:
- I woke up to run off some of the kilos of food my stomach is still trying to digest (I believe my food baby now has a twin), stepped outside, and decide that because my fingernails were sweating, it might be best to just sprawl on my sheets and watch the Cotton Patch Gospel (thanks parentals).
- Today I downed my seventh tamale of the season.
- In the afternoon, as my family and I sweltered in the 100+ heat, my host mom whipped up some "granizados" -- shaved ice smothered in sickly sweet red syrup, sweetened condensed milk, and evaporated milk. So bad, but so so good.
- This evening I got to chat with my Rarig side of the fam; it was great hearing from Aunt Natalie, Aunt Karol, and my beloved Jeanbean.
- Apart from that, I watched lots of Recess episodes on youtube.

Other observations:
- Two things that are considered holiday delicacies here: plump grapes with seeds you could easily choke on and beautiful Washington-grown Red Delicious apples.
- Last week I finished my mom's sentence for the first time! Now this may not seem like a big deal (It's something both my mother Valerie and I are incredibly guilty of in the States), but I actually knew what my host mom was going to say. IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE.
- At Melisa's house, I also tried an oatmeal concoction of sorts: oatmeal, milk, and some sugar. Far more delicious than I anticipated.
- My friend Anders Rodin sent me a very touching facebook message, warming my heart by describing how he had presented his restaurant meal leftovers to a homeless man, saying "I knew that he would enjoy those leftovers more than I had even enjoyed my meal." Amen.
- One of the volunteers helping on Christmas Eve had spent quite some time in the States, and he obviously wanted a chance to practice his English with me. We talked about Christmas and he asked if I was missing home. Well duh. He began talking about the feelings of Christmas, hinting that commercialism has consumed the true meaning and that we get lost in the feel-good, warm romantic sentiments that we all associate with December. He talked about sitting next to a lonely old woman in Orlando who questioned his anticipation of the approaching 25th day of the 12th month. His response? "I don't celebrate Christmas day. I celebrate Christ being born every day in my heart." Well yes, that is just dandy and a fabulous Sunday School textbook answer, but I can say I don't agree with it. Of course we are to celebrate Christ's birth every day, but I feel that Advent is a special time of waiting, anticipation, and joy. To deny it these emotions I feel is to disgrace the gift that God has given us of feeling deep things stir within our hearts, reach out, and touch each other in warmth during the coldest time of the year.
- I wrote this poem in honor of Joy Brandli. I think it highlights the importance of Advent and expecting something.

Waiting.

So here I am, waiting.
Waiting like an unopened envelope,
like a forgotten promise.
I wait in the sunshine,
I wait in the storm drain.
For what?

For unanswered questions,
for kitchen timers to sound.
I wait for the bus to pull up
and the plane to take off.
Once I waited a long time,
a long, long time,
to get from one place to another.
Now I wait to return.

I am waiting for a boy to enter my life as a man,
and for a Holy Man to enter my heart as a baby boy.

esperar v.:
1. "to wait"
2. "to hope"

Is that what this is?
Hoping?
That is a pleasant thought,
but terrifying.

For so often,
God refuses to give us what we wait for.

But rather,
we are presented with something far better
than what we could have ever hoped.

- Every since December started, fireworks are constantly blaring all through the day and night. It made reading "A Thousand Splendid Suns" a lot more real with large explosions in the background.
- My host sister Laura made us chocolate chip cookies that were charred, flat, and the chips poked out like little round rabbit poops. I miss real Christmas cookies. And heavenly treats.
- This is my favorite reading from the "Watch for the Light" book of Advent readings that my parents sent to me:

"What matters in the deeper experience of contemplation is not the doing and accomplishing. what matters is relationship, the being with. We create holy ground and give birth to Christ in our time not by doing but by believing and by loving the mysterious Infinite One who stirs within. This requires trust that something of great and saving importance is growing and kicking its heels in you."
-- Loretta Ross-Gotta

- Today I put all my Christmas music on my external hard drive and deleted it off my computer. Time to move on.


--Hannah

PS SARAH MOSES-WINYARD. If you are reading this, please know that there is a present waiting for you at my house. It seems you've gotten all mature on me again and deleted your facebook. I'm impressed as usual.